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hoseoksluna · 15 days

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VAPOR, pt I. | jjk ft. myg

pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x steam!oc

genre: smut, a hint of angst

word count: 10.6k

summary: yoongi never promised his healing time would be easy and when he hurts you enough that you need your other "boyfriend", jungkook is quick to rescue you.

pinterest board: blur | playlist: car playlist

warnings: mentions of a sex toy, jungkook is upset and angry at his hyung, public sex, dirty talk, sexual tension and frustration, praise kink, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), bruising, cum swallowing, going behind someone's back........

note: HI MY LOVES—MY STEAM DRABBLE IS HERE AND I'VE NEVER BEEN MORE EXCITED TO POST SOMETHING, OH MY GOSH. OKAY, before i say anything else, i would like to put a disclaimer here: even though all my characters are fictional, they are still human in this world, which means they fuck up, which means they're not perfect whatsoever and never will be. i would like to really put an emphasis on that before you read and if i receive any vulgar and rude asks about this, i assure you that i will not respond to them. OKAY ALL SERIOUSNESS ASIDE—this was fucking AMAZING TO WRITE and i already CANNOT WAIT to start writing another part, this time with yoongi included. i promise to make everything right and—SPOILER—this couple WILL get a happy ending, so don't worry, my loves. ENJOY READING. SPAM MY INBOX. I LOVE YOU.

There’s a mango-scented candle rustling in a bag, resting on the passenger seat, and Jungkook is driving very carefully so as to not knock it over and possibly break it. For a moment, one that reemerges in his headspace as he keeps his foot light on the pedal, he wonders if he should buckle a seatbelt around it and ensure its safety that way, his fear of ruining his surprise for you causing his brain to come up with the strangest of ideas—in the name of the love he carries for you.

Is it love, though?

Jungkook furrows his brows, that thought seizing his sternum enough that he has to turn his music down and let some fresh air in through the window so he doesn’t crash his fucking car. Icy sweat stings his spine, his stomach churning and without sparing a second longer, his eyes take after the sadness of the weather outside his vehicle. His vision blurs and he rubs his eye, one at a time, to focus on the road.

A red light blinks at him and suddenly, there’s fury that he feels deep within chest.

Conceivably because slowing down means he has to face the onrush of emotions sloshing in him. Has to hear the rain not just outside, but inside, too. Has to feel the prick of those raindrops along his waterline. The heft of those clouds outside and inside his clavicles as well, tightening and tightening.

Jungkook sighs, drumming his fingers upon his steering wheel, trying to distract himself from it all. From the invading question that absorbs his body like the vapor rising across the night-clothed street—when did he get so emotional?

Unfortunately, he knows the answer right away.

You’ve been sad. On your own.

It’s been a few weeks since all three of you made a deal to stick together. Yoongi has been brave, his good mood clutching him for a lot longer than Jungkook sadly estimated. You’ve spent these past two Fridays and weekends together, out and about, rolling in bed, rolling in Yoongi’s apartment. It was all fun and games until the boss reached a dead end. Somehow. Jungkook still doesn’t know what it was that Yoongi actually saw—what was that one particular thing that caused him to spiral.

To relapse.

And you didn’t tell him until it was too late.

Perhaps, you did tell him—nonverbally, that is. You stopped adding your signed messages whenever he was texting with Yoongi during the week and even those alone stopped coming in as the days went on. There was something wrong and he knew it. His intuition only proved to be right when another weekend showed its face and it contained no undertone of you. And no suggestion of Yoongi either.

Silence. Dead silence.

And it wasn’t until Jungkook got an incoming call from an unknown number half an hour ago that he realized the gravity of the situation.

It was you who called him up, sobbing into the phone, having stolen his number from Yoongi’s device. As difficult as it was to understand what happened, Jungkook tied all the strings of information you gave him between your broken breaths and blubbering: Yoongi hasn’t spoken to you all day and took a shower alone, the latter being the most devastating of the two.

He felt bad for you, terribly bad for you—but simultaneously, he was upset with you.

Still is.

It’s one of the reasons why he’s driving up to Yoongi’s apartment. With a mango-scented candle and a puffed-up bag of cheese balls. He doesn’t want to think what the other reasons are, not when he’s staring down his gift for you, clicking his tongue at last and reaching over for the seatbelt and sliding it into its buckle. Just in time for the traffic light to turn green.

Now, now he’s speeding down the road, turning up the volume of his car playlist. A slow song by the Arctic Monkeys is playing and it’s a movie—the set of circumstances that are happening in the present. The rain, the tightness in his chest, the but faint adrenaline of the momentum. What is he really doing?

It feels as though he’s following a script, however his eyes haven’t skimmed down the entire thing. He doesn’t know how this is going to end. Hell, he doesn’t even know if he’s doing the right thing because he’s planning on staying outside of his hyung’s apartment. Like hell he’s going inside when his sweetheart—

Jungkook purses his lips. Moves the shift stick. Kills the engine. Closes his eyes.

His heart thumps. Turbulently. It stirs worry in him. What if he’s going to die?

This is the first time he’s left in the hands of the unknown. He’s always had the sixth sense of knowing tactness like the back of his hand, although this time he doesn’t know shit. Doesn’t know if he’s breaking his best friend’s trust. Doesn’t know what’s going to happen once he sees you, possibly wearing one of your nighttime robes. The last time you touched him was the last time he had his release. His hand doesn’t feel as good as yours does—and his orgasm isn’t as fulfilling as when it’s shared with you. He’s brimming with frustration, with anger so vast that he could explode and he knows it’s unfair to be mad at Yoongi, when he himself said it wasn’t going to be easy, that it was going to take a lot of work. But Jungkook can’t help his feelings. Can’t help to see you.

Only you.

Broken, tear-stained, when it should be blush painting your cheeks red from all the love and happiness your own boyfriend should give you as it’s his duty. Something he’s responsible for. Something he should put above himself.

“Drunken monologues, confused because it's not like I'm falling in love, I just want you to do me no good and you look like you could,” Alex Turner sings and Jungkook’s chin quivers, his heart gaining tempo, his perturbation rising—owing to the violence of that muscle, owing to the state of your feelings.

He wonders if you’re still crying.

He’s outside of Yoongi’s apartment. Didn’t even realize it, mind too fucked up, too full of you.

Grabbing his phone, he sends you a text.

I’m here. Come outside

A reply pings right away.

SWEETHEART: ?

SWEETHEART: it’s raining

He’s halfway typing his response that he doesn’t want to go inside, but he decides against it. Doesn’t want to make it worse for you. If you knew of the dark corners of his mind that don’t particularly like Yoongi at the moment, you wouldn’t look at him with those pretty eyes of yours as you always do.

He can’t afford that.

I have an umbrella

As his thumb hovers above his phone, waiting for your reply, he can almost hear your sigh. Can feel your breath on his clammy palm as he rubs it on his pants in effort to rid himself of the nerves crawling in his veins. The breath he was favored enough to hold in his grasp the last time he had you to himself—clamping your mouth shut as he spanked your clit for being so beautifully responsive to his touch, rubbing it until your eyes whisked back while Yoongi slept beside you, unaware.

It’s engraved in his brain. It plays on loop before sleep overtakes him at night and it’s his first thought in the morning once consciousness reminds him that you’re not his.

SWEETHEART: is it cold outside?

He figures you’re asking the question in order to decide whether you should change or not. It seems as though warm pajamas don’t exist in your world, for the beginning of September is in the process of blooming. It nudges his anger; provokes it enough to fill it with a lethal dose of a yearning to buy you the warmest pair of pants he could find. He clenches his fist, thumb quick to type a response.

Wear something that covers your legs or stay home.

The same thumb shakes at the expression of his firmness, his anger disturbed, wholly—wholly disturbed. If you come out wearing your little shorts—

A reply pings again.

SWEETHEART: ok ill change

And another one right away.

SWEETHEART: ill text u when i come down

That’s a good girl.

He almost types it right then and there, but something within, despite the slowly calming storm of his feelings, despite his cock tightening in his pants at the swift image of your bare legs, at the lingering perception of you being a good girl and listening to him, drags his thumb to his emojis. A sudden renewal of his sixth sense, and he doesn’t understand how it’s happened as it dawns on him, makes him realize that’s not exactly what you need right now. You didn’t call him for a fuck.

You called him for emotional support.

👍🏻

And like the good girl you are, you merely take five minutes. Stay true to your words, text him as you’re coming down and Jungkook grabs his umbrella from the backseat. Doesn’t forget to unbuckle the seatbelt in the passenger seat. Saves himself from the embarrassment.

The trees sway in his direction, inviting him in, once he takes two steps at the time, coming up the stairs. He watches them through the clear roundness of his shield, beckoning him closer. The rain pelts against it, but softly this time. Merciful as it knows you’re about to emerge from the ocean of such unfathomable sadness. It doesn’t wish to frighten you, rather it desires to soothe your escaping, make it less harrowing. Even the wind that whips at him stills as soon as you open the door, bathed in light.

And Jungkook is struck with the notion that he wants to do the same.

You’re wearing flared leggings. Gray. With sneakers of the same color and a white top that hugs your waist, that seems way smaller than the last time he touched it. He gets a glimpse of it, and it unnerves him, as you lift your hand to curl a strand of your hair behind your ear because otherwise your body is shrouded in a flannel that’s too big for you. Too robust for you and your particular liking of tight, little clothes.

He doesn’t want to know who that garment belongs to. Doesn’t even want to come close to unfolding that thought, to even let it get a taste of his burning blood. Because there’s another matter at hand.

You’ve lost weight.

And he’s going to kill his hyung for it.

You step out and it’s an instinct, the way his arm draws closer to you so you don’t get touched by the rain, even if it means the raindrops get to trace the back of his head and the nape of his neck. Yet even that invigorating, tender liquid doesn’t cool the scorching lividness that takes place beneath his skin, beneath his bones. But then you touch his hand, left to left, drag it away and hide yourself in his chest. Everything changes when you do that.

Jungkook explodes. Silently. Gently. His chin quivers again and he doesn’t care that you can hear the tremor of his heart as you lay your ear against it. Doesn’t care that his grip might hurt you as he hugs you back, thinking he could wrap his arm twice around your much different waist. And he takes you like this. Back to his car. He doesn’t even feel the wetness pooling in his waterline, leading you as you walk backwards. And you laugh, you laugh softly while he inhales your mango scent that has somehow even crept up to your scalp, and he doesn’t believe it’s that easy.

It can’t be that easy to make you feel better.

He opens the door for you, a façade of nothingness plastered on his face as he tries his hardest to remain stoic so you wouldn’t see the turmoil churning within every perimeter of his body. And it’s an instinct, too, the way he catches your little purse when it slips off your shoulder, even though he doesn’t see it, too busy devouring your gaze—afraid, awfully afraid that tonight might be the last time he sees your pretty eyes, considering the contempt he’s now showing his hyung.

If Yoongi finds out about this, it’s over.

His life is over, too.

Anger, frustration, sadness, love—how is he able to feel all of those emotions at once? You purse your lips, your weary eyes skip his features all the way to his mouth, stopping at his lip ring and the question rises again in his brain.

Is it love?

The rain falls harder. And so does he, unfortunately.

“I got you something. It’s right there.” He tips his chin to the passenger seat without taking his gaze off of your busy eyes. They’re still looking at his mouth, watching every word come out. He finds it so endearing that there’s nothing more he wants to do than grab your cheeks and kiss you for it. Maybe his frustration would loosen a little bit if he did it. “Don’t sit on it.”

It’s that addition to his previous sentence that causes you to flick those pretty irises of yours up to his. And he studies it as the double meaning uncoils in your brain, even though it was by accident that it tumbled out of his mouth. The weariness in your orbs parts like clouds upon the heavens, though no sunshine spills through them. There’s still a lingering blankness, something unknown, something foreign. Then, the tiniest of smiles curls your mouth and it jolts through him, his heart thudding harder—to the point that even more profound discomfort settles in.

“Did you get me a dildo? I could use one right now.”

The perplex that seizes him almost causes his legs to give out. And he can’t help it, the way his eyes roll back and his hand, with your purse hanging from his forearm, runs down his face. Jungkook wants to get drenched in the rain—maybe if the raindrops put out the sudden fire licking at his every nerve ending, maybe then he’ll come to understand how you manage to be in the mood when your state of mind can’t possibly let you have dirty thoughts.

His cock tightens again and he calls you by your name, firmly. He can’t have this. Not right now. He needs to be sensible. You need it. “Get in the car.”

You listen, but your smile falters. Grabbing your bag from his forearm, you turn around, bending over to wrap your fist around the bag on the passenger seat. Jungkook doesn’t mean to look at your delicious round cheeks and once he discovers that they’re hidden under that layer of the hideous flannel, he sighs a breath of relief. He can’t look at you that way. Averts his gaze, immediately.

As soon as you’re seated, he clicks the door shut. Considers letting the rain have him. Did he make a mistake, being firm with you?

Inside his car, his favorite song is mellowly playing. In the mere few seconds, you’ve managed to suffuse the entire atmosphere with your mango scent and Jungkook inhales it. It takes him into a whole different world, one filled with eternal sunlight as the song portrays it. He finds himself in a country of spring that has been briskly rained upon and now is being softly seared with those shafts of light and speckles of heat, the details of your beauty.

“For the love of my life, she's got glow on her face…” the singer sings and the lyrics plod into his mind. Jungkook wishes the description applied to you at this very moment like it had before, like it had every single time he stole a glance at you. He misses your glow and your glitter and it pierces his unstable heart that he finds no traces of those particles of shimmer on your cheekbones and eyelids as you’re rummaging through the bag, not even on your cupid’s bow as you gasp, gently, discovering he bought you your favorite things.

You’re looking at him with such smothered joy and it would relieve his feelings if he didn’t feel such guilt, if he didn’t feel as though he was a crumbling pillar, a failure undeserving of your time.

You take the candle into your small hands. Such a stark contrast—his heart aches at the sight of it. You pop the lid open, sniff the aroma and your mouth rounds in a terribly, terribly cute manner. Jungkook is glad for the lack of light in the space of his car, which hides his growing manhood. He props an elbow on the door and pinches his nose, trying to regain his composure—

“It’s mango-scented,” you say in disbelief, pouting and Jungkook can’t breathe. “And cheese balls, are you kidding me?” You open the bag right away, plopping the treat into your mouth. He’s surprised you eat just one—it doesn’t feel right. “Thank you. Honestly. Thank you.” You cradle it into your chest and Jungkook has to look away.

What has Yoongi done to you that you react this way to such silly things? He needs to ask, but he fears your answer. And what’s worse, he fears what he’ll do to him once you tell him.

“What did you tell him?” He needs to get away from this place, but it has to correlate with your plan, if there even is any. If not, he’ll handle it. Figure something out.

You take a sharp breath, loading your gifts back into the bag, keeping it nice and safe on your lap. Then, you lick your lips and look at him with an intention that causes his heart to jump right there onto the wonderfully clothed flesh of your thighs. “I told him I was going home.”

Home. Since the moment he knew of your existence, your home has been the place wherever Yoongi resided. It never mattered where. Jungkook grips the steering wheel, knuckles white. “Where do you live?”

You tell him your address. He knows that from this day on, he’ll never, ever forget it. He starts the engine, wondering in the meantime about the ordinariest things of your life. Do you live there during the week and spend your weekends at Yoongi’s apartment? Or has he completely overtaken your life that you spend every hour of it in his presence? He wants to know. And he wants to get some food in that slim tummy of yours. “Do you have any food there? When was the last time you were there?”

It’s you who looks away now, staring ahead, playing with your fingers while the rest are still wrapped around the bag. “I don’t live there anymore. Haven’t been there in months.”

Jungkook bites his lip. Too, too many questions are hovering in his brain—he barely has the capacity to think about them, let alone hurl them at you. “What did he say when you told him you were going home?”

You snivel and his heart on your thighs twitches in pain. He has to grip the steering wheel harder in order not to jump out of this car and kick down Yoongi’s door.

“Nothing.”

Jungkook puts the car in drive, wordlessly, seething inside. He’ll invent another plan while yours will remain its prototype. Will keep you safe.

Safe, fed and tearless.

The drive is quiet, save for the euphonious melodies emitting through his never-ending playlist. The rain has become less severe, soft in nature, only adding to the background noise—adding to the process of your mollification that he’s overseeing. He’s put a stop to the questions. Has figured you have enough of them, for the only reason you decided to lie to your own boyfriend and go behind his back was because you needed to get out of his clutches.

A decision he approves of.

The quietness has helped him regain his composure fully, set some things straight in his brain as the anger in him slowly dissipated. Space is good, for both his hyung and you and he’s proud of you for allowing yourself to get to this point that you walked away. Yoongi, evidently, has returned to his hermit tendencies and Jungkook knows very well that it’s something that he needs in his healing time. It’s who he is; who he always has been. He didn’t push him away too many times for him to be possibly wrong about this and while the information he gained from you that Yoongi changed his ways shattered Jungkook’s heart and glued it back together, he knew, somehow, deep within him, that it was just an effort. For you.

He didn’t think it was a façade because Yoongi is certainly not a phony person.

He did it for you. Tried his hardest. And succeeded. With your help, he’s sure—which makes it all the more beautiful—but Yoongi is still Yoongi.

Someone who deals with things on his own.

And although the distance he needs hurts other people, he doesn’t mean it. Jungkook knows this just as well, despite the fact what he truly thinks is that Yoongi should try harder.

For you.

He needs to tell you this. Needs you to know. But he doesn’t think you’re ready to hear it just yet, which is okay. The plan is constructed, he’s here for you and he will make you feel better. He will caress your heart and make your belly full. Will make you forget for a little while before he gently brings you back to reality.

You deserve this. After everything you’ve been through. Because of him. Because of Yoongi.

And because of this, he no longer feels guilty that he has you to himself without Yoongi knowing. Even if that means he risks his brotherhood, even if that means he risks his affection for you seeing the light of day.

You’re more important.

It’s this thought that gets interrupted by a sudden ring of your phone. You jump, zipping your purse open and Jungkook keeps his eyes on the road. He doesn’t really want to see the kind of picture you have Yoongi saved under. He has to keep his feelings intact. Remain calm.

Your breath shakes. “He’s video calling me.”

Sparks of electricity nip at his fingertips. A surge of adrenaline, the threatening, false notion that he’s doing the wrong thing. Jungkook almost smirks. It’s so fucking thrilling to him.

He lets you decide on your own what to do, but you grow unsure, nerves burdening you. He feels that heft and it’s quick to sober him up.

“Should I get out of this car? Say I’m taking a walk?” you ask, your pretty, pretty eyes wide, your pupils so tiny. Jungkook wants to take your hand in his, take your fear that makes you think these silly thoughts and crush it.

He’s here. He’s going to take care of this. Of you.

“Let it ring.”

You look back down at your phone, lip between your teeth, but Jungkook keeps his eyes on you, the red of the stoplight pervading you with the danger of your girlish freedom. And it does ring two more times before Yoongi gives up.

Good.

You have the right to need to distance yourself just as much as he does. Give him the same silent treatment like he did to you.

There’s a smug smirk plastered on his face when he catches you putting your phone back into your purse before the light turns green. He speeds down the road, driving with just one hand, ready to unfold his plan.

One he’s already shared with you.

He’s taking you to the mall.

His hand itches to take yours as you walk beside him. Strangers stare you down, but you keep your attention on the myriads of shops lining the side of the promenade. He doesn’t understand how it’s possible that there’s so many people wasting their Thursday at such a place like this. At this hour, especially. It kind of makes him regret that he took you here, despite the fact the sole purpose of it was to feed you until you were full. The lights are too bright, children are screaming and running around and it’s giving him a headache, but one look at you changes his mind in an instant. The glow he missed has found its way back to your cheeks and there’s a glint to your eyes that he hasn’t seen in a long while. The paleness is gone and he’s not really ignorant to the way a bush of roses begins to bloom in his chest at the realization.

You stop dead in your tracks all of a sudden. Your little purse slips off of your shoulder. As attentive as he always is, he slides it back up, a smile tugging his mouth to the side. He thinks it’s just so damn cute. And the fact you don’t pay any attention to it as well. Probably used to it.

Red posters of sale adorn the storefront that has caught your eye. Jungkook is unfamiliar with it, but you seem to be completely enthralled by it.

“Where do you wanna eat?” he provokes. Already knows what restaurant you’ll be feasting at, obviously, but poking you is a matter of enjoyment for him. “There’s so many food courts to choose from.”

You look at him and clutch your stomach, as if the mere mention of food made you hungry. A faint, faded light flashes across that glint in your irises before it dwindles away and Jungkook is ready to throw you over his shoulder and push people off of his path to get you there right now.

“Can we… go here first?” you ask, hesitatingly, grabbing a hold of his elbow, but he feels as though you’re squeezing his heart, wringing it out of all that liquid emotion that he swallowed down earlier in the car. Your touch is warm, like the pond water kissed by the sun back at his cabin, seeping into his skin and languidly streaming through his body.

It’s automatic, primal and right, the way he clasps his other hand across your fingers wrapped around his bicep and the way your body draws closer to his. It should be normal to do this when he’s seen you bare—when he’s seen you feral, needy and disappear into your pleasure, one he’s the creator of. Why does it feel so thrilling? So dangerous?

You can meander through as many stores as you want. And he tells you that, or at least tries to, as he smiles at you, softly, and nods his head, letting you lead him inside the shop that has so vehemently caught your attention.

A trillion styles of jeans, tiny tops, skirts and shorts of the same size, Jungkook understands your fascination as he takes it all in. And he’s pleasantly surprised when you indulge him as you fondle every material of every clothing you like, telling him how pretty you find it. You’re not timid to show him your disappointment either, wrinkling your nose, when the fabric is too frail or too expensive for the price, muttering vulgarities directed to capitalism and leading him away.

It isn’t until your sight stumbles upon a rack of dresses that your breath, audibly, hitches in your throat. And you unlink your arm from his, going straight for your seemingly new obsession.

A red dress. A sheer fabric, more like. With roses sewn in, a split in the middle, one strap covering only a part of the hanger. It’s the only piece of clothing you actually take into both of your hands, putting it against your body, as if to see what it would look like on you. Fuck if he knows what you’re doing—all he knows is that his throat is dry, the image of you wearing something like this making him a living, breathing corpse.

Jungkook clenches his fists. Even more so when you disappointingly click your tongue upon seeing the price tag, putting it back where you found it. The thought of you not having that dress causing his heart to lodge, tightly and disturbingly, in the shriveled walls of his throat.

Not happening. Not under his watch.

That dress was made for you.

Jungkook licks his lips. Doesn’t stop the words from spilling out. “Why don’t you try it on?”

You give him a look as if he was a mad man. And he is. That he certainly is. “Please, this costs more than I can afford. I’d only go home crying if I tried it on and had to put it back.”

He stifles a laugh at how ridiculous you sound. Picks up the price tag. Less than two hundred thousand wons. It wouldn’t even make a dent in his bank account.

He grabs the hanger. Hands it to you. “Go try it on, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes. Don’t look amused at all. Your brows knit ever so adorably and the corners of your mouth curl downwards, arms crossing over your chest. Oh, he’s going to wipe that expression off of your face. Paint it in pretty, pretty colors. “No, thanks. I think I cried enough today. Let’s go.”

You walk past him, but Jungkook stops you. Grabs your arm. Calls your name, firmly. “I’m not gonna repeat myself.”

You huff. “Is there something wrong with your ears?” Your brows quirk and he thinks he died again. Might melt into a putty. Just for you.

He smirks, showing his teeth. “It’s no issue for me,” he says, speaking of money, taking your hand in his and enveloping your fingers around the hanger. “So be good and try on this dress for me. Off you go.”

Jungkook turns you around and, with his palms on your shoulders, he leads you towards the dressing rooms, not stopping until he finds one that’s unoccupied. You huff and puff again, but he gently pushes you inside. And when you open your mouth to say something, he drags the curtain to the side. A laughter bubbles in his chest.

“You’re not buying this for me.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “Strip.”

There’s no witty remark, no exhales of your exasperated breaths, only the obnoxious music blasting through the speakers and he assumes that you gave in to him. A tendril of proudness, not of his actions but for you and your good behavior, swims in the hot bloodstream of his veins and it’s now, now that he’s almost alone and you’re out of view, save for your feet clad in pink socks under the curtain, that he perceives that he’s coated in sweat. The disorder of his colorful, all kinds of feelings has turned him so numb that he doesn’t even feel grounded in his body. He needs a strong sip of alcohol. And a good meal.

He begins to flutter the sides of his leather jacket, just to alleviate himself of how hot he feels, when he hears you gasp, your footsies shuffling on the carpeted floor. He takes a step towards the dressing room, a trembling hand reaching for the curtain and stopping there—a spasm of nerves zaps his abdomen, spreading iciness to the tips of his fingers. He knows what he’s about to see will make him a dead man for the third time this evening and because of that, he takes a deep, soundless breath, closing his eyes for a mere second before his hand pulls the curtain away.

Nothing, absolutely nothing could have prepared him for the sight before him.

And nothing is what you’re wearing underneath the dress.

Abruptly, there’s no music. There’s no gasps emitting out of that marvelous mouth of yours. And the film in front of his eyes is in slow motion, accompanied by the winged fuckers going equally mad inside his stomach. You’re twirling. From side to side. Patting down the material tight against your slender body. A grin on your face, one that he’s last seen during that time joy rested in you, bathes you in a glow that he longed to see. The glint, the light in your eyes takes on a whole new intensity and it shoots embers into his bare hands, burning him ferociously and curtly—just for him to find that he likes it and that he wants more. You turn around, facing him, and you swathe him with that flaring, almost raging light. It’s the sole thing he senses amidst the numbness of his headspace.

Except for one thing.

The ruffle of the sorry excuse for a rose beneath the singular strap of the dress is but an inch above your stiffened nipple while the other, just as excited, is left bare for his eyes—as if the principle of being exposed like that awakened your body. But it’s the vast, stitched red buds of that flower across your small waist, stomach, mound and the apex of your thighs that brings his attention to this other thing that he’s aware of.

He’s hard for you.

This image of you will perpetually haunt his dreams. Your little, carmine rose tattoos as if lining your skin, mainly. His throat swallows, dryly.

Jungkook cups himself in an effort to hide his arousal and his bafflement from your stark, astonishing beauty. He thinks you’re unquestionably otherworldly, so far beyond his reach and his league that it aches. As much as the apprehension that if you wore anything else in this fucking dressing room, he’d fall to his knees just the same.

And then you speak and somehow you bring sharpness back into his reality.

“The socks go well with the dress, don’t you think?”

Jungkook glances at your feet and what he sees makes him pinch his eyes and let out a rumble of laughter. There’s a fucking Pikachu on your socks, grinning up at him, mocking him for getting hard for you for the third time.

He can’t look back up and be a witness to the magnificence of your body. If he allows himself to do so, he will combust. Bring the whole building down—

A set of footsteps sound behind him and, with a racing heart, Jungkook steps inside the dressing room, shrouding you with his body without touching you, pulling the curtain shut. You startle, backing away until your spine leans against the mirror and there’s no space, none whatsoever, for him to run from you because when he turns back around, it’s your eyes he meets first. Nose to nose, breath to breath.

When did they start making dressing rooms so fucking small?

His breath picks up speed. He wants to pretend he doesn’t see the thick veil of your feminine carnality shunning out the light in your irises, because he can’t afford this, not when you’re sad, not when you need a friend, not when he needs to be stable for you. But the more you look at him, the more you draw him in and he has very little strength to fight against it.

Averting his gaze, he props a hand on the wall beside your mirror. Notices your clothes, untidy, sprawled on the bench. Finds no traces of you taking off your underwear, which means only one thing.

His heart nearly skips a beat.

“Where’s your underwear?”

Your grin forms into a smirk and you latch both of your hands onto the sides of his jacket. Danger mingles into that carnality in your eyes and Jungkook knows, right at this instant, that he’s fucked. “Didn’t take any.”

His cock hardens even more in his hand. A brief flashback of the way he ripped your panties off at his cabin when you disobeyed him fills his mind, and he grows weak. It’s still a private pleasure of his, one that he likes recollecting, no matter the events that took place after. And the whole escapade has caused him to form a certain attachment to your underwear—or lack thereof. Knowing you didn’t take any on your first, secret night out with him suffuses him with delectation, one that intertwines with a rising question in him.

Did you choose not to wear it for the sake of the old time or did you choose not to wear it because you’re expecting something from him?

He yearns to know. Needs to.

“Why?”

Your fists bunch up his T-shirt underneath the jacket, tip of the tongue darting out to lick across your top lip. Your eyes follow the way you squeeze the fabric and Jungkook catches your long lashes quivering at your discovery of his quite prominent problem. A blush scatters along your nose and cheekbones and he doesn’t have to look down to know that his hand scarcely conceals his imprint. He’s grown harder for you in this close proximity and, peculiarly, light pervades him now that you know about his arousal, even though he doesn’t expect you, nor demand from you, to do anything about it.

“Oh, you know.” Palms flat, you drift them down his stomach. Jungkook stiffens, a forest burned by you. “It would only get in the way.”

He sucks in a breath, pressing his other hand beside your head, caging you in, his cock in full clothed glory for you. His head spins, but paradoxically, he feels himself gaining strength, as if you managed to rejuvenate him by laying out your cards on the table in such a filthy, electrifying manner.

“Get in the way of what?”

You mirror him, sucking in a breath of your own. “Get in the way of you fucking my brains out?”

A quirk of his brow. A twitch of his cock. He can’t breathe—you’ve taken all of the remaining oxygen in his lungs when you sucked in that breath and uttered those dirty, dirty words. How are you capable of this? What has Yoongi done to you? Jungkook drags his teeth up his bottom lip, although it attenuates close to nothing. His arousal only blossoms, the bush of roses in his gut thickening, so akin to your little, feigned tattoos. He yearns to feel them under his palm.

A dead man, for the fourth time.

His knees might give out. His hands are clammy.

Though his mouth acts on its own. “Have you forgotten what I’m capable of doing?”

He watches the flashback swim past your irises and it connects to your mouth, expanding it into a coy smile. “I guess I have.”

Bad, bad girl. It’s you who’s fucking his brains out, trembling like a little leaf, longing for his touch, calling out for his hands. He feels them buzz, interwoven with your senses and your desires. Even if you didn’t move an inch, if you remained still as a sculpture, his hands would still know you want them and it drives him to the peak of insanity—enough for him to consider taking you right here and there, in all seriousness. In spite of the fact he still has a mind of his own and is aware that he shouldn’t. For Yoongi’s sake, yes—but mostly for your sake.

The tips of his fingers tingle with the craving to rip that flimsy fabric off of you and make you remember what he did to you, even though you fully remember. Something about that fills him with an onrush of vigorous energy, one that needs a release. It whispers, most intensely, its plea for it within his skin.

“Do I really need to remind you?” Jungkook asks, playing your little game after all, digits clenched into fists on either side of your head. You nod, briefly, seemingly becoming smaller in his captivity, hands drifting lower, rooting by his hips. He’s surprised he’s letting you touch him like this, but then he’d let you do anything you want. He sweeps a glance at your form, just once, before he bores his gaze back into yours. It did something to you and he draws closer, senses you squeezing your thighs together. Such a cute, bad girl. “It would be a pity to rip this dress off of you. What would they think, hm? If you walked out of this dressing room and had to explain to them what happened?”

Jungkook drags a finger down your neck and at the first physical contact, you release a breath that wafts over him, deepens his heat. He traces the line of your strap until he reaches the frilly bud of the rose and tugs at it, just once.

He’s about to continue taunting you, but you catch him off guard.

“I dunno, I’d tell them I wanted you to do it. That I needed the reminder,” you whisper and your low tone of voice curls unfathomably somewhere within his gut, forcing him to double over. You hook your fingers around his belt loops and Jungkook brims with gladness that he didn’t wear a belt. “What was it that you did to me?”

He nearly, nearly rolls his eyes back. The effect you have on him—he craves to bunch your hair in his fist, teach you a lesson regarding what you’re doing to him.

And he just might. Take full responsibility while he’s at it.

Two responses swirl on his tongue, however.

One to scold you for provoking him in public, but he knows it would stall the aroused energy and back it away into a corner. The other to keep going and drive you to his level of insanity.

It’s a crossroad and he’s standing in the middle, a man in charge, his morals questioned and at absolute fucking risk. His blood pumps at full speed and sweat lines his forehead. He’s on the verge of bursting. Time and tension presses against him and with all that energy and strength pulsating in him, it’s scarcely the one he needs to put a stop to this all. It all leads into a far different direction, leading him away from the clearness of his morals.

Fuck.

Then, your chest lifts in desperate staccatos and that’s it for him. That’s the breaking point.

No way out.

Only way in.

For you.

Jungkook wets his lips. “How well can you keep a secret?”

In the same trembling staccatos, you exhale in relief and he’s ready to give you everything. Absolutely fucking everything. “I’m the best in the game.”

A flash of light in his being. He’s immensely pleased with your answer, growing hotter and hotter. He inches closer to you, flush to your body, lips by your ear. Feels your little nubs pressing against his upper abdominal muscles. Craves to sink his teeth into the delicious flesh of your ear. “You can’t tell anyone about this,” he starts, mimicking your low tone, speaking of the evident elephant in the room, hoping you catch onto it. “And if they ask, you have to come up with something else. Can you do that?”

He pulls away a tiny bit, just to study your reaction. Your hold tightens on his belt loops while your mouth parts and your head nods in agreement, ever so needy but patient for his next move. He wants to lick you all over just for that, reward you until you lose your voice.

“You teased me with your words, with your little bratty mouth, and even though you listened well when I told you to lick your finger for me, you disobeyed me when I instructed you to not wear panties at my place,” he starts, lips mouthing your ear and he feels the need of your body to stabilize at the memory. Offering you his own, he presses closer to you until he pins you against the mirror, until both pairs of lungs sync in movement, his fingers skimming, barely, over the sides of your hips. Though something resistant takes place in the middle of that entwinement. Something that gives his mouth the aftertaste of copper. “And when I found out, I ripped them off of you. Fingered you so fast you came in seconds and made a mess on my hand. And then…” he pauses, an inkling regarding how to get rid of his uneasiness plaguing his mind. “Then I made you apologize and you did. You did it so sweetly that I made you come so many times until you lost count,” he alters the memory, concluding the reminder finding the aftertaste rapidly increasing, transmitting down to his heart, burdening it with a heavy load that he doesn’t know the contents of.

“Can you show me what you did? I think I might remember better if you do.”

He almost sinks to his knees, but the resistance, the coppery aftertaste in his mouth immobilizes him, keeps him glued on his spot and his hands begin to tremble. An image of Yoongi blazes in the back of his mind and, fleetingly, Jungkook sees a swift movement, a memory of getting hit. If his hyung is in as bad a mental state as he is, it’s inevitable that history will repeat itself. You haven’t received his blessing. Neither has he.

But at this very moment, he thinks knuckles to his cheek will simulate the act of a kiss.

Secrets are secrets and he’s weak.

Awfully, awfully weak.

“Is this what you want me to do?” he asks, looking you dead in the eye, lifting his chin, hoping you see his frailty—hoping you see that he’s hanging by the thread. “Finger you in this dressing room until you ruin that pretty dress?”

A smile. “Well, you didn’t get me a dildo, so your fingers will have to do.”

A sharp inhale of breath. “What about this cock, huh? You don’t want it?”

You drag a finger along his jean-clad length, barely touching him. Jungkook twitches all over.

“It’s too big for me, you know I can’t take it.”

A deep chuckle. He’ll ruin his jeans himself. “If my mind serves me well, you’ve always taken it well. Came around it a lot of times.”

You whine. This, this is your breaking point and all of Jungkook’s muscles tighten at the recognition. He’s gonna give it to you. Say fuck it to it all—his life was damned the moment he set his eyes on you. Knew he was going to die prematurely. Thinks dying in Yoongi’s hands is quite merciful. It’s his best friend after all.

“Please, Jungkook, I—”

He grabs your waist, tightly. His thumbs touch and his stomach drops. “You what?” He’s going to make you say it, he doesn’t care. He needs it. He craves it.

A mewl, one that coils around his length. “I’m so wet. I need you. Please, do something. Anything. Let’s get out of here.”

He turns you around and because you didn’t expect it, you gasp—loudly. Angels must be by his side, for your sounds get instantly swallowed by the blasting music. You can be as loud as you want, as he wants and he makes a mental note to remind you that when the time asks for it.

His fingers gather the flimsy fabric, bunching it at your waist. In the sharp light, shining down at you most perfectly, he has a splendid view of your drenched thighs and swollen clit. He presses you against him, needs you to feel how hard you made him, how rock solid his cock is at the sight of your mouth-watering filthiness. He needs you in his mouth, he needs you.

“Where?” Jungkook asks, staring you down in the mirror, brows furrowed, head tipped to yours, lips in a tight line, parting with every hardened exhale. “Where do you need me? Show me.”

You moan, ever so softly and he can’t help but grind against your ass, fingertips making dents in the flesh of your waist. You take your hand and drift it down to your sweet little cunt and Jungkook holds his breath. You rub your center, your adorable lips wrapping around your small fingers and you show him the thick sheen of your arousal, glistening in the light. Just like you did the first time he set his eyes on you, even though the paradisiacal sight wasn’t meant for him.

Now it is—and he’s nearly about to weep in joy. Such spiritual experience, swathed with gratitude and mercy, healing him through and through. This is for him. You’re willingly giving it to him. He never thought he was ever deserving of it, but now in your hands, at your service, it feels too good to be true. His eyes wet, his arousal taking a new form, becoming something bigger, more profound, something that will change him, cling to him for the rest of his life.

“Here. I want your fingers.”

He takes your palm in his, planning something with it. “Just my fingers?”

You lean your head back against his chest. “All of you, please, please.”

At your service.

Jungkook wraps his lips around your fingers, sucking your dew, swallowing it, needing more. You grow more desperate, watching him in the mirror, and your little index finger grazes his lip ring, smiling sweetly, pleased with yourself. He coos at the sight, but then you turn around, pressing yourself against him, your cunt against his thigh, his cock against your tummy, and you grab the back of his neck and pull him in, harshly, for a kiss.

You eat his mouth. He’s barely able to reciprocate your hungry kisses, the roll of your tongue, your moans at your own taste and he decides he will simply slow you down.

Reaching behind you, his fingers tease your entrance. In response, you lift your ass for him, arching your spine as much as you can. He knows that if he were to pull away, he’d see your juices in the mirror, in the stark light, but your starvation and your craving tastes too good and he physically can’t.

Gathering your slick, he drags his fingers past your parted lips towards your clit and you swirl your hips for him, outrunning him—making the tip of his digit give you the circles you want. He groans into your mouth, out of breath and it isn’t until he rubs your bud rapidly, with deep pressure, and you moan so loud that it alerts him enough to pull away.

The music did not, in fact, swallow that sound.

Jungkook clamps your mouth shut.

Without stopping his movement. Watches your eyes roll back. And he’s greedy, unfortunately so.

Turning you around, he props your leg on the bench and he looks at your pretty cunt. Swollen red clit, like your feigned tattoos, parted lips, dripping hole and equally soaked folds, glistening in the direct light. He swears, can’t help it, fondling your femininity, all four of his fingers gliding with ease, back and forth, everywhere. Down to your other hole, to your inner thighs, back up to your seashell, to your mound and lower tummy. He cakes you with your arousal, one he’s the creator of, bunching your dress higher until he’s holding you right underneath your breasts that spill over his forearm. So full and perky—he’s unhinged. Utterly, utterly unhinged.

He wants to smear your slick over those clothed nipples as well.

Fuck.

Jungkook rubs your clit again, with the same speed as before. Your eyes lid, but keep the eye contact in the mirror, ravaging him through and through. He submits to it, even though he has the upper hand, even though he has the capability to make those eyes go cross. And they do—when he sinks his fingers inside of you, middle and ring, stuffing you full. Your walls suck him in so hard that he almost loses his footing, squeezing you so hard against him that he’s sure he will leave bruises on your tender skin. He silently promises he will kiss them later.

“Is this what you wanted?” He lifts your leg, hoists it up in the air and begins to fuck you speedily, fingers curling in your spot every once in a while. He doesn’t want to make you come fast, but then time is pressing against him and he knows the mall will be closing soon. He still has to fill that belly. Would prefer if you came around his cock. “My fingers fucking your needy little princess parts, hm?”

You moan his name and Jungkook shushes you in your ear, rewarding you regardless by abusing your clit with circles, alternating between those and swiftly fucking you in your tight hole.

“I’m gonna come, Jungkook, I’m gonna come.”

He withdraws his fingers. All of them—even those wrapped around your leg. You sway on your feet, heady, panting, and he stabilizes you with a hand on your arm. He smirks at you in the mirror, fingers in his mouth and you give him a dirty look.

Before you can tell him off, he explains himself. “You’re coming around my cock, I don’t give a fuck, sweetheart.”

His words wipe your face off of that scowl and you smile at him. A sunshine personified. Jungkook chuckles, pushing you against the mirror with his hand on your sternum and getting on his knees.

He places your leg on his shoulder. “Hold your dress for me.”

You listen right away, ever so eager. One hand clutches the hem, the other sneaks to his hair. Jungkook likes it so much that he doesn’t waste a second and envelops his mouth around your little clit.

Just briefly. He has your dew to drink.

He swipes his tongue along your slit. Over and over, until his sweat drips in pearls down his temples and he makes new bruises on the sides of your hips. Even goes one step further and fucks you with his tongue, letting out short little breaths and soft moans against you, gone feral by your taste and your fleshiness. He takes your lips in his mouth, plays with them with his tongue. Pulls away, stares lovingly at them and spits on your clit, sucking it inside his mouth and rubbing his face in your dripping juices, licking up everything you’re giving to him.

And when your knee gives out, he catches you in time, standing to his feet. Doesn’t kiss you. Is selfish. Wants your taste perpetually on his tongue. Your eyes sink to his wet chin and you lick your lips, a feral look on your own gracing your features. You resemble a horny little animal, one that he craves to own and make his. But he can’t burden his heart with that thought. Doesn’t have the strength for it, not when he’s still hanging by the thread.

“How do you want my cock?” he asks, his own eyes lidded, darkness consuming him. “Like this or from behind? You decide. I’m giving it to you. It’s yours.”

You’re left speechless. He taps your cheek, gently, to make you talk. If you don’t, it will be his ruination and he will die. At your Pikachu-clad feet. A sweet, sweet death. Ideal.

“I—I can’t take it from behind.” A deer in the headlights, terribly cute.

He chuckles, caressing your hair. “But you have.” He grins, but it’s an answer for him. He’ll take you from behind in the safe confines of your home. “Like this, then. It’s more than perfect, sweetheart.” He kisses you, deeply, but he doesn’t give you his tongue. His heart expands, his affection crawling all around the kiss. He wonders if you can feel it.

Pulling away, he unbuttons his pants and takes out his length. He’s soaked his underwear, but he doesn’t mind. His arousal drips down and he rubs it along his tip to make it as painless for you as he can when he enters you.

And once he does, your eyes roll back and you break into whines, ones that fuck with his brain. Your leg is wrapped around his torso, but he joins the other one, holding you by your splendid little cheeks. Like his fingers, you suck him in, even though he hasn’t given you all of it yet. He’s already losing it. Doesn’t know what’s going to happen to him once he’s balls deep. He won’t last. He physically can’t.

Jungkook bites your lower lip, sucking it into his mouth. “You want all of it?”

You tug at his hair. “Yes, all of you.”

At your fucking service.

He sinks deeper into you, hissing, furrowing his brows, sweat dripping down every perimeter of his body. Your mouth latches onto his neck and he’s gone. Even more so, when you graze your teeth upon his skin before you suck it—like he sucked your lip. He fucks you hard for it, making you let go of his neck and moan against the column. It pleases him so much that he does it again, a warm pressure coiling in his lower belly. It creates a cacophonous sound, your body colliding into the mirror and it mingles, beautifully, with the music playing. As well as the squeaky noises of your slick gliding along his cock every time he draws out.

“Who do you belong to tonight, huh?” Jungkook rasps, filling you balls-deep just like you wanted, driving into you slowly until his pelvis kisses yours. “You can be as loud as you want, sweetheart. Nobody’s gonna hear you but me.”

Rapid, whiny moans. He mimics their speed while maintaining eye contact with you and he groans when your eyes go unfocused, mouth parted. You’re just as gone as him. He pecks you for it, so terribly pleased. His orgasm inches closer, enveloping him with even deeper, thicker darkness.

“To you, Daddy,” you cry out and because you called him by the title, he maneuvers you. Hoists you higher on his cock, with your legs now dangling from his forearms. And like this, he drags you up and down his length, his own moans breaking at the feeling of you tightening around him. He’s gonna come now and it’s your fault.

“No, sweetheart, you can’t call me that when we’re here,” he scolds, shaking his head, brushing his lips against yours. “I can’t ruin you the way I’d like. They’d kick us out.” He kisses you, slowing down his tempo, stalling his orgasm. “Now apologize or you’re not coming.”

“I’m so sorry. I won’t call you that in—in public.”

A rewarding kiss to your neck. A hard stroke. One that blankets his vision with colorful stars. “Good girl,” he praises, looks down at you and kisses you without breaking the stare. “Now you need to be the best girl and come around my cock. I can’t fill you up—you didn’t wear your panties. I’d ruin your leggings for everyone to see.” You cry out again, the idea dizzying your mind as much as his and you tug at his hair, scratching your fingernails down his neck, touching him all over. “Can you do that for me? Can you come for me and not make a mess like the last time, hm?”

He pounds into you, the strokes so hard that the sound of skin slapping turns disturbing and he holds his orgasm for your sake, all of his muscles clenched, stars dancing across his vision, pecking your features. And that’s it for you.

You come so hard around him—and you are the bestest girl in the world because you manage to keep your eyes on him throughout the entirety of the wave of your orgasm washing over you, licking up at your body. Mouth parted, his name slipping past, a deep tinge of red, deeper than your dress, flushing your cheeks, eyes dazed, so gone, so fucked out, dark and alluring, so akin to his.

His bestest girl. His sweetheart.

He needs to pull away. He needs to come.

“Sweetheart, I know you’re tired but I need you to take off your dress and get on your knees.”

You do it so quickly, without talking back, that even his own flush finds its way to his cheeks, his heart growing even larger and hotter, winged fuckers zapping his stomach. He fucks his fist in your face, loving the way you’re watching what he’s doing for a little while with a lingering hunger before you flick your eyes to his, beckoning his orgasm out of him.

“Good girl,” he whispers, muscles straining, movement quickening. White clothes the colorful stars, the warmth in his stomach on the very brink of exploding. “Open your mouth.”

And he paints your mouth in the same shade of white. You’re so good that you wrap your lips around him, sucking him softly, making popping sounds that prolong his orgasm and he grasps your hair in his fist, gently, despite the violence of his release. He’s not just giving you his cum; he’s giving you all of his affection and when you swallow and smile at him in such a kind, beautiful manner, it wets his eyes in a way that he can’t explain.

He helps you get on your feet and you worsen his state of emotions. Like earlier, you fold into his form, hugging him skin to skin, squeezing him so hard that he stops breathing altogether. And when you begin to weep and smear his chest with your precious tears, he weeps with you.

Never in his life before has he experienced such embrace, such love unraveling in the form of tears and quiet sobs. And he doesn’t want to absolve this again. With you, it’s perfect. And right now, he could die with the utmost certainty that you’re both crying for the same reason.

Love unable to be real, to be fulfilled.

He senses it. Senses it in the way he cradles your head and wipes your tears away. In the way your lips wrap around his, kissing him as if this was the very last time. You don’t have to say a word. He knows. And it’s enough.

Jungkook dresses you. Runs his fingers through your hair in effort to fix it and make it look as nice as it did before he ruined it. And his eyes drench again when you zip him up in the meantime. No one has ever done that for him.

The warmth in his heart heightens. He doesn’t understand how it’s possible.

Taking your hand, purse and your dress, he leads you to check out. Pays for it. Carries the bag. Pretends you’re his; pretends his duties are nonexistent and his morals have different colors—just for this night. Doesn’t let go of your hand, even as he orders a good bowl of soup for you and himself, even as you sit down together and wait for your food. Even as you look at him deep in thought.

“You saved me,” you unravel, a soft, tender, drowsy mien gracing your face and his heart thuds against his ribcage, gratitude surrounding it, eyes wetting again. “Thank you. And for the dress. I’ll only wear it for you.”

The thuds halt. And it’s the only thing that does—a tear rolls down his cheek and he can’t truly believe he’s baring his feelings like that for you, in front of you. He feels as though he was dreaming and he fears he’s going to stir to awakening any moment now.

A waiter brings your food. None of you pay him any kind of attention, though you don’t forget to say your thank you’s.

Jungkook opens his mouth to say something, despite the fact no words rise on his tongue, but something interrupts him.

His phone rings.

And it’s none other than his hyung himself.

BACK to masterlist

#jungkook x oc #yoongi smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #btscreatorscorner #kpop smut #jungkook one shot #yoongi x oc #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine

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naughtyneganjdm · 7 months

Text

Back Pain

Summary: After you find Negan on the floor of his cell in pain when he hurt his back, you offer to give him a massage. With how touch starved Negan is, you find yourself taking advantage of the moment and make Negan feel good in other ways.

Characters: Negan & the reader (OC, second person)

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50901724

Warnings: 18+, Swearing, smut, little to no plot, hurt/comfort, submissive Negan, dominant reader, praise kink, p*ssy job, begging Negan, etc.

Notes: This is pure filth. Not gonna lie. I thought I would make it innocent at first, but that's not how this story wanted to be written. I hope you enjoy it.

You would never admit this to the rest of the people in Alexandria, but days like these were your favorites. Getting to be the person to go and spend some time with Negan when you gave him his meals for the day actually was something you looked forward to. Many people hated the job, but you took it whenever you could. Talking to Negan was something you enjoyed. Even though people didn’t really give Negan credit, he was quite intelligent and knew a lot about books. You always enjoyed having conversations with him. Sure, he was a bit of a smart ass and was always very inappropriate at times, but you liked it. You liked him. So any chance you could take to do this, you would. And people wouldn’t often fight you on it when you offered. Negan rubbed a lot of the people in Alexandria the wrong way, but you felt like you saw more to him than everyone else did.

Heading down to the cell that they kept Negan in, you clutched tightly to the tray that Negan’s food was on when you didn’t see him sitting at either in the corner of the room or on the cot that they had for him, “Negan?”

“Oh, hey,” Negan’s voice responded raspier than normal causing you to drop your head to see that he was laying on the center of the floor face first on the ground. His head turned toward you and he let out a small groan. “I’m…here.”

“Are you okay?” you wondered noticing that he wasn’t moving much and he let out a hesitant breath.

“I think I pulled out my back,” Negan was honest, his words coming out in a slow slur. His eyebrows bounced up and he let out a groan when he tried to push himself up but let out a hiss when he braced his hands on the floor. “My tennis ball went underneath the cot. I bent down to grab it and well…the rest is history.”

“Oh,” you chuckled, setting his tray of food down on the ground to slide it under the bars for him. “Do you need some help?”

“You trust me enough for that?” Negan managed to pull himself up to his knees, his hands still bracing on the floor when he winced. “Getting older sucks. My back has always been shit, but this fucking cot doesn’t help any.”

“I trust you,” you assured him pulling out the keys to his cell. Opening up the door, you closed it behind you when you entered it and headed over to Negan. Wrapping your arm around his waist, you reached for the other arm and wrapped it around your shoulders. Using your strength, you helped pull him up from the ground and heard him grumble under his breath. “Let’s get you seated.”

“If people could see me now,” Negan winced, his left hand reaching behind him to press over the small of his back. “Big bad Negan pulls out his back and he’s in agony. I’d love to say I hurt it doing something incredibly wild, but nope. Just reaching for a tennis ball.”

“It happens to the best of us,” you cracked a smile and thought about it for a moment. “Do you want me to massage your back for you? Try to help you loosen things up?”

“I don’t know,” Negan began looking toward the window in his room letting out a long sigh. “They really don’t like you in here with me.”

“I could care less what they think. Lay down,” you instructed, getting up from the cot that you were sitting on together. Pushing into Negan’s shoulder, you could see the resistance in his movements before he finally lowered down face first on the cot. Adjusting the pillow under his head, Negan wiggled a bit until he found himself in a comfortable position. “Do I have permission to touch you?”

“Yes ma’am,” Negan grumbled when you carefully lowered down onto the cot with him. Crawling in over him, you rest your knees at his sides. A loud exhale fell from his throat when you lowered your hands to start caressing over his lower back. Watching his body language, you wanted to make sure that you weren’t going to hurt him while you did it. Carefully you caressed further up the length of his long back and then up toward his shoulders. Taking your time, you paid attention to him learning what areas seemed to affect him by his breathing changes. Putting a bit more pressure into your touch had Negan groaning out. “That’s good.”

“Are you sure? You’re shaking,” you noticed, pulling your hands away from Negan when he looked back at you over his shoulder. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“No, it’s not that. I just…” Negan turned on his side, visible pain in his face when he stretched his back a certain way. There was embarrassment flooding into his features, when he forced himself to look away from you. “I haven’t been touched in a very long time. Never by someone being gentle or kind at least…”

Frowning, you reached out to palm in over the side of Negan’s face. You were tender in the way you touched his face and Negan let out a tremoring sound. His eyes came to a close, his lips parting when he leaned into your palm showing how much he missed simply just the touch of another person. Cuddling his face in against your palm, you felt your heart rate quicken with the way his short beard tickled at your flesh.

Using your free hand, you outstretched it to drag your fingertips over the top of his hand hearing his breathing getting louder. Stroking tenderly at his flesh, you took your time noticing the way that his shaking got more intense. Hooking your fingers with his, you leaned forward to place a faint kiss over his temple.

“Lay back down,” you commanded and he did as you asked of him. Going back to the original plan, you continued to rub his back. The knots that you had worked on started to loosen up and you noticed that it made Negan much more relaxed beneath you as well. Sliding your palms down Negan’s back, you reached the back of the gray t-shirt that he was wearing. Tugging faintly at the material, you managed to sneak your fingers in underneath it for your fingers to come in contact with the warmth of his flesh. The sound Negan made showed you that he was alright with it. A breath caught in your throat as your touch raised up toward his shoulders. There was no question that he was enjoying what you were doing by the sounds that he was making. “Feeling better?”

“So much,” Negan breathed out, his head cuddling in closer to the pillow. Dragging your hands down Negan’s back, this time you slid your hands down over his sides and toward his lower abdomen. That had his back arching up and you repeated the motion up again. Multiple times you did the same thing and what sounded like a moan fell from Negan’s throat. “Stop.”

“What’s wrong?” you questioned almost losing your balance over him when Negan pulled himself from underneath you and toward the opposite end of the cot. Almost instinctively he reached for the pillow that he had been laying on and covered the center of his pants with it. An amused sound escaped your lips when Negan’s face flushed over with red.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” Negan looked ashamed and you knew what he was insinuating was going on. “I wanted this to be as innocent as possible, but the way you were touching me…”

“That’s okay Negan,” you hushed him, reaching out to place your hand in over his and he seemed to tremor. “I’m not mad.”

“You’re not?” Negan confirmed with you, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat. Dropping his head, Negan looked toward the pillow that was covering his lap and he shook his head. “If you want to leave, I will understand. Shit, I wouldn’t blame you.”

Nodding, you stood up from the cot. The expression over Negan’s features showed that he was disappointed at the thought of you leaving and it made your heart flutter in your chest. Stepping forward, you reached for the pillow that was over Negan’s lap and he clung tightly to it. Shaking your head, you hushed him and grabbed the pillow. Setting it beside Negan, your eyes lowered to see the bulge that was at the center of his pants showing that he did get a hard on from what you had been doing.

“Lift your arms,” you instructed with Negan’s hazel eyes locked on yours. At first, he seemed nervous and like he didn’t want to listen, but when your fingers grabbed the bottom of his shirt he obeyed.

“Yes ma’am,” Negan’s tongue dragged out over his bottom lip lifting his arms for you. Pulling his shirt up and over the lengths of his slender abdomen, you tossed the shirt aside and heard him breathe out shakenly. Dragging your fingers across his shoulder had his pupils dilating. His lips parted and he didn’t take his eyes from yours. Teasing your fingers further down over the center of his chest had Negan leaning back against the wall. Stroking over his slender abdomen, you circled your fingers through the dark curls of hair that covered his flesh. It had Negan breathing unevenly and he was trembling again showing how much this was truly heightening everything for him. Sliding your fingers down further, you reached the belt in Negan’s pants and heard him whimper. “What is this?”

“Relax,” you ordered once more not giving him an answer when you started to pull apart the material of the belt. Once you got the material separate, you went for the button in his jeans and unhooked it. Leaning forward, Negan’s lips hovered in over yours. The warmth of his breath lingered, his eyes narrowing with how close you were to him. “You shouldn’t have been treated like this Negan. You deserve better than you were given.”

Negan’s hazel eyes fell to your lips as you dragged the zipper down in his jeans. Faintly your lips dragged over his and it made him let out what sounded like a whimper. Pressing forward, his lips claimed yours in a hungry, passionate kiss. One that surprised even you. Negan’s fingers curled around the back of your neck while the kiss lingered. There wasn’t much time to separate from Negan because he was eager to keep kissing you over and over again. Purring against his lips, you went to pull back, but he was eager to meet you again, his tongue brushing between your lips causing you to place your hand over the center of his chest to stop him.

Tugging at the material of Negan’s jeans, you got them down his long slender legs and tossed them aside after pulling off the boots that he was wearing. Curling your fingers around the back of Negan’s calf muscle, you caressed over his body and watched hm tip his head back. The vein at the side of Negan’s neck was bulging while you squeeze and caressed at the flesh of Negan’s thighs.

The large bulge at the center of Negan’s gray boxer briefs was very evident and you felt your mouth go wet at the sight of it, “We’re going to finish your massage.”

“But…” Negan’s head lowered back down, his lips parted and he looked disappointed to hear you say that. “I thought…”

“We will, just not right now…” you whispered making him frown when you admitted that. “Lay back down on your stomach.”

Following your instructions, Negan did as he was told laying back face down on the cot, getting comfortable again. This time you crawled in over him again and caressed over the planes of his back. Your touch was more sensual making sure to slide over his shoulders, down over the side of his torso, toward the front of his lower abdomen and back toward his lower back.

Adjusting your weight, you moved down lower and allowed your palms to drag down over his small bottom caressing over the flesh. Sliding further down, you squeezed at the back of his thighs and heard him moaning. Sliding your hand between his thighs, you cupped his balls through the material of his boxer briefs and it had him moaning out.

Reaching for Negan’s boxer briefs, you tugged the material down and heard his shuddering exhale that followed. Unhurriedly you exposed Negan’s small ass to your sight and smiled. Caressing at his lower back had his hips arching slightly and you caressed lower.

“Lift,” you instructed sliding your hand around Negan’s side around to the front. Doing what you asked, he arched his hips up slightly allowing your fingers to connect with his rigid manhood. The moan that followed from Negan drew chills to fill your own body. At first your strokes were slow, taking the time to test Negan’s flesh in your grasp. Lowering further in over Negan, you pressed kisses over his earlobe and felt Negan lazily bucking his hips up toward your caresses. “Are you being a good boy or a bad boy?”

“A good boy,” Negan panted, his head stealing a glance back over at you. His eyelids were heavy, his hazel eyes locked on you while you continued to take your time jerking him off.

“You are such a good boy,” you praised him, kissing over his jawline. Another deep, raspy moan fell from his throat when you nibbled at his flesh. “But when I need you to be, you’ll be my bad boy, won’t you?”

“Yes ma’am,” Negan nodded his head, whining when you pulled your hand away from his cock. “Please…please don’t stop…”

Snickering, you caressed over the lengths of Negan’s back and sighed, “Get on your back…”

Shakily he moved on the small cot and stretched out beneath you, his hands settling in over your thighs when you rest yourself on your knees over him. Your eyes fell to his swollen cock and it made you suck at your bottom lip. There was a vulnerability in Negan’s eyes and it was such an interesting thing to see. You weren’t used to this idea of Negan, but you loved it.

“Just lay back, relax and be my good boy,” you praised Negan caressing over the lengths of his lower abdomen and it had him licking his lips again. Curling your left hand around Negan’s girthy shaft, you started to stroke over him again and watch his abdomen sink in with his deep breaths. “I want you to come for me. Do you think you could do that for me?”

Nodding his head, Negan looked down toward your hand watching it pump away at his flesh. Outstretching his hand, he stroked down over the side of your face in a gentle sweep. Turning your head toward his hand, you kissed over the center of his palm before taking his index finger between your lips. Nibbling at the tip had his faint moan filling the small cell and when you took it further into your mouth you had him hissing out.

Sucking at his finger had him panting when your other hand joined to help stroke over Negan’s body. It was throbbing in your grasp and you knew that Negan’s body was eager to come. Hell, he wanted it so bad.

Pulling your mouth away from Negan’s finger with a wet sound, you allowed your grasp to get stronger while you jerked Negan off and felt his hips arching up toward you. Rocking your hips forward had the denim of your jeans rubbing up against the ridge of the tip of his cock and it had him grunting loudly.

You hated to admit it, but this turned you on more than you planned on it doing. Getting up from the cot had Negan whining and you saw his cock twitching with the anticipation of not getting to finish. When he saw that you were undoing your pants, he let out a shuddering breath. The way his eyes ate you alive when you pushed your panties down with your pants and then crawled in over him brought an incredible amount of confidence to you.

Eagerly Negan pushed up onto his hands, his mouth claiming yours again in a passionate sweep. Pressing your hand into the center of his chest, you forced him back down onto the cot. Huffing out, Negan’s hands settled in over your hips giving them soft sweeps with his thumbs. Lowering his left hand, Negan grabbed the base of his erection in attempt to lead his cock to your entrance, but you pulled your hips back and shook your head.

“You’re supposed to be my good boy, don’t be bad…” you warned him watching Negan pout and he nodded his head. “You’re not allowed to enter me. I told you we’ll have sex and you can be in me however you want, but right now it’s just a massage.”

“I don’t understand,” Negan’s hands brushed up and under your shirt, his rough fingertips caressing over your torso. Pushing up the material of your shirt, Negan lifted up enough to pull the cup of your bra down. Taking your breast into his mouth, Negan’s tongue circled your nipple before sucking faintly at the flesh. Pulling back with wet lips, Negan allowed his thumb to circle the bud. “You are so fucking beautiful.”

“You’ll start to understand,” you hushed him, using your left hand to caress over his length. Bringing the tip of it to your wet folds, you traced the swollen head between them. His moan vibrated against your lips and you bit faintly at his bottom lip. “Lay back…”

Pushing into his chest, you forced Negan back on the bed again. Reaching for his hands, you put them over his head and allowed his cock to rest against his lower abdomen. Hovering your hips over his length, you started to rock your hips over Negan’s shaft allowing your sensitive folds to rub up against his cock again and again. Every roll of your hips would have the tip of his cock rubbing against your clitoris and it was giving you the right amount of friction to make this just as pleasurable for you.

“Does that feel good?” you demanded an answer, your free hand reaching to grab a hold of Negan’s jawline to get him to stare up at you. “Do you like this kind of massage?”

“So much,” Negan growled against your lips when he lifted up enough to kiss you again. You put a lot of power into the rolls of your thrusts and you hoped the sounds the two of you were making wouldn’t draw the attention of those outside. “You’re teasing me.”

“I am,” you hushed him sucking at his bottom lip, dragging your tongue out over his flesh. “I’m going to let you do whatever you want to me, but we’re going to give that back a rest for today. Let it heal and then tomorrow, this pussy is completely yours.”

“You could ride me,” Negan begged against your lips, his breathing broken with his eyebrows furrowing while you continued to rub up against his cock. Shaking your head, you felt your heart hammering inside of your chest and this was doing wonders on your sensitive bundle of nerves. You were so wet and you could hear it by the way you were rubbing up against Negan. “Please.”

“No,” you shook your head, keeping his hands forced above his head. Hot, wet kisses were pressed over his lips while his moans grew louder.

“I’m begging you,” Negan huffed against your flesh, his hazel eyes rolling back to a close while you used his cock for both yours and his pleasure.

“You want to come inside of me?” you inquired watching Negan desperately nod his head. His dimples were prominent, his eyes full of lust and want for you. “You want to be balls deep inside of me?”

“I do,” he whined, lifting his head to see that there was precum developing at the tip while you continued to rub your pussy up against the length of his cock. It was a wet sensation and he loved it, but he was so desperate for more. “I promise it will feel so good.”

“This already feels good,” you corrected him cooing out with the friction it caused against your clit. “I promise you, tomorrow you can fill me with your cum you beautiful, gorgeous man.”

“I can’t wait until tomorrow,” he whined once more and you tsked against his lips, pulling your hips up and away from him. Your own body hated that move, but you were trying to make a point of who was in charge. “Maybe just the tip?”

“If I get the tip inside of me, I’m gonna want the whole thing beautiful,” you licked at his lips drawing Negan to moan once more. “I can stop all together if you want. You’re being a bad boy Negan.”

“No. No, please,” Negan begged once more, his expression growing more upset. “I promise to be a good boy.”

“Of course you do,” you smiled using your hand that wasn’t holding his wrists above his head to drag your fingers through his wet hair. Adjusting your hips over him again, Negan was eager to arch his hips up toward you to have you rubbing yourself over his throbbing manhood. “You have such a pretty cock. You know that?”

“I do?” he breathed out and you smiled. You didn’t realize you had it in you to be such a dominant in a situation like this, but Negan was so touch starved that it was easy for him to be your submissive. “You are so fucking beautiful.”

Lowering yourself closer to him, you released Negan’s wrists and felt him wrapping his arms around you while you upped the speed of you rubbing your pussy up against his erection. Your cries grew louder, matching the sounds that Negan was making. Between kisses, Negan would steal quick looks to see what was happening between the two of you. There were chills flooding your body, your pulse jumping in your throat when you cried out.

One over exaggerated roll of your hips with him arching up led the tip of his cock to enter your wet and ready entrance when you slid back. It immediately made you moan out against Negan’s mouth when his thick cock stretched you on your rock back. Digging your nails into his shoulder had him hissing out and you lifted your head to stare into his desperate hazel eyes.

“You bad boy,” you shook your head feeling the ache with having Negan’s cock inside of you. Your movements stopped and Negan threw his head back.

“I’m so sorry. It was an accident, I swear,” Negan pled with you, seeing that you were unhurriedly sinking down over his cock. Once you had him filling you to the brim, you rocked your hips in a circular motion over him. You told yourself you wouldn’t let this happen, but fuck it felt so good with him inside of you. Neither one of you were going to last much longer. But hell, you were going to take advantage of it. Starting to bounce your hips over his length powerfully had his moan raspy and his eyebrows furrowing. “You feel so good. So wet…so tight…”

Your movements were strong and steady setting a pace between the two of you that had the cot squeaking with the motions. You were still laying over Negan having his hips bouncing up toward your movements eagerly. The wet sounds of your bodies moving in unison grew louder. Negan’s left hand was caressing over the back of your neck, urging you to his lips while his right reached between you to allow his thumb to caress over your clitoris. With your motions, you helped aid to that friction and fuck it felt so good.

“Negan,” you panted his name, tossing your head back feeling your thighs start to tremor and shake against him. Burying your nose against the side of his neck, you paused your movements over him when you felt your walls clenching tightly to Negan’s cock after you orgasmed with him inside of you. Panting against his flesh you were in awe of the way he caressed over your neck and his other hand slid around to palm over your bottom.

“Permission for me to come?” Negan requested and you laughed, gaining enough strength to bounce your hips over him repeatedly. Winces became more frequent from his throat when you felt the first twitch of his cock inside of you. The warmth of Negan’s release was felt and you looked down between the two of you to see his cum dripping down the base of his cock and your mixed fluids pooling at his groin. It surprised you how Negan clung to you when he came, desperate to kiss you and hold you close while you milked him completely of his release. Falling in over his chest, you stroked your fingers over the center of it and heard him breathing loudly. “If you don’t punish me and you still want it, I promise I will make tomorrow perfect. It will be all about you and only you.”

“This wasn’t all that bad Negan,” you slurred, tracing your fingertips over his wet lips noticing that he was nervous about how you would respond to things. “It actually felt pretty nice, didn’t it?”

“Yes ma’am,” he growled, rolling you over onto your back with him over you. A thick rumble of a moan fell from his throat when he pulled his hips back allowing his cock to pull from you.

“You filled me up good, didn’t you?” you stroked your fingers through his wet hair and he gave you a single nod. “Maybe you should clean up your mess. Don’t you think?”

“Yes ma’am,” Negan smirked kissing your lips one final time before peppering kisses down over the lengths of your body. In this moment you found yourself thankful that Negan was so touch starved to begin with because you were certain now after everything you could tell Negan to jump and he would ask how high.

----

Tags: @slutlanna976 @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @jennydehavilland @de-gabyconamor @ibelongtonegan @smallsadjellyfish @labyrinthofheartagrams @msjamesmarch @thebeautysurrounds @hotfornegan @redmercysugar @caprithebunny @tuttifuckinfruitty @emoryhemsworth @a-girl-interupted @akumune @stoneyggirl2 @xsarcasticwriterx @insertneganhere @haleygreen23 @xhannahbananax03 @sanctuaryforthelost @burningredaffair @killaweiser @dead-of-niight @ayumi-wolf @hollyismentallyillhelp @promiscuousbarnes @tone-stark @lanadelnegan

#Negan #Jeffrey Dean Morgan #Negan fanfiction #negan x reader #The Walking Dead #Negan smut #negan x you #twd fanfiction #negan imagine #Negan Smith

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ashipiko · 1 month

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WHATS THIS? ASHI HAS APPEARED W A NEW TWST OC? CRAZY!!!!! <3 introducing niko cimarron!!!

FEEL FREE TO COME INTO MY INBOX AND TALK ABOUT HIM BTW IT WOULD SOOO HELP ME DEVELOP HIM 🫶

“What’s it now, Carrots? Got yourself in another mess?”

INFO UNDER CUT!

• HE KINDA??? IS MAGICLESS? while in NRC. THE MAGIC SCHOOL.

• 😭😭 you may be wondering how exactly. he doesn’t know either. I FEEL LIKE MIRACULOUSLY HE DID IT AS A JOKE AND SOMEHOW GOT INTO NRC????? as for the entrance ceremony IM STILL WORKING ON IT but magicless fox boy. OK

• <3 scarabia 2nd year!! he vibe checked himself and was like “yk what this one is convincing enough” and here we are

• he doesn’t necessarily LIE despite people sayin that he does all the time 🤔🤔 more so that he’s really good w his words and he just kinda dodges questions in a creative way 🫶 does this sound familiar

• rumor has it he’s made out w azul once and no one knows if it’s actually true or not </3

• everytime he sells his little “pawpsicles” outside of montro lounge (like RIGHT outside) and Azul tries to kick him out he pulls the “oh I GET IT you’re just salty I’ve moved on aren’t you” and suddenly it’s like no one believes Azul 😭😭 ITS KINDA FUNNY

• the tweels LOVE him because of how entertaining he is espec w azul!!! THEY SUPPORT NIKO WRONGS!!!!

• best friend is crowley FR I feel like azul’s TRIED to talk to him about niko but he’s just “a student trying to make a profit. much like you, ashengrotto!” so it doesn’t work. AZUL OUT HERE STRUGGLING

• as for relations w the prefect I FEEL LIKE THEYD BE A LOT LIKE NICK AND JUDY. considering the fact that’s he’s also a magicless student in a magic school I can see a small scene where it’s like “you’re not alone, all right? hey— that doesn’t mean you can run off telling everyone, carrots.” BUUUT. he kinda has issues

• trying to keep up the act of him seemingly having magic because he doesn’t want to be exposed as a phony at NRC……. he doesn’t wanna give into that fox/playboy stereotype and now he’s kinda in this big mess of a lie that he can’t get himself outta 😔 so I imagine telling the prefect is a whole big thing with vulnerability

• he doesn’t care too much about the other guys at nrc but w the prefect who’s given him a chance to be smth more than just a flirt or playboy or scammer he’s kinda scared to tell them he’s been lying to their face this whole time. YK? HES JJST A LITTLE GUY!!!! 🫶 he’s attached to the prefect whether he’d admit it or not <3

• DID I MENTION HE KINDA HAS A PLAYBOY PERSONA?

• ALSO W CALLING THE PREFECT “CARROTS” I can imagine a scene at lunch where he meets the prefect and he’s like “oh you must really like carrots, huh? there’s a bunch on your plate” and yuu gets the decision of either “no, I hate carrots” or “yes, I love carrots!” and either way he goes “huh. well, carrots is your name now~”

#a widdle guy!!!#been holding off this idea for like since twst dropped #but it was only a matter of time till I twisted my fave disney chara……#COME INTERACT W HIM AND DROP ASKS ABOUT HIM PSPSPSPS #niko cimarron #ashi’s ocs ♡#twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #twisted wonderland original character #twst grim #grim twst #twst #disney twst #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland #ashipiko draws ♪

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runnning-outof-time · 11 days

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The Joys of Being a Girl Dad | Tommy Shelby & Alfie Solomons (set in Girl Dad series)

Request: no - written for @justrainandcoffee ‘s 2 year ‘Alfieversary’

Pairing: Tommy Shelby (x Reader mentioned) & Alfie Solomons (x fem!OC & child OC mentioned)

Summary: Tommy stops by Margate to congratulate an old associate…adversary…friend.

Warnings: language (it’s Tommy and Alfie we’re talking about here), a slight bit of Cyril slander

A/N: I’m sorry it took me soooo long to write something for your celebration, Flor!! I guess I could call this a present for Rose’s 1 year anniversary too now, even though she’s not really in it. Thank you for sharing this beautiful au with us!!

A/N 2: I should also say that this story was supposed to be shorter, but I just kinda became invested and ran away with it…I hope you don’t mind. Also it’s been a bit since I’ve written for Alfie, so I hope he’s not too ooc here. Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! — YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged!

“Who let you in?” the man who was sitting facing the open balcony door asked.

“How’d you know it was me?” the other man, who was standing at the entrance of the room, responded with his own question.

“Smelt the smoke and horse shit the second you stepped through that archway,” the first man mused, earning a snort from the second. “So I’ll ask again: who let you in?”

“Your wife…”

“Figures she did,” the first man cut the second off, muttering the comment under his breath.

“Your wife’s assistant let me in after she told me to get lost and slammed the door in my face,” the rest of the statement was shared, which made the first man finally spin in his seat to look back towards the archway.

Silence hung in the air for a few moments, the two men staring at each other from several paces away…much like they had on that fated day all those months ago. “So why didn’t ya listen to her?” the first man finally broke the quiet, his quip conjoined with a look of query.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Alfie?” the second man asked, his eyebrows just slightly raised.

“It has,” the first man nodded, pursing his lips together for a moment before he continued, “yet it is still sooner than the day in which I thought I’d see Tommy Shelby again.”

Tommy Shelby just shook his head at the man’s remark, looking at the ground as he pursed his lips. It didn’t faze him in the slightest.

“Why’re you here then?” Alfie asked, still wanting to get to the bottom of the Birmingham man’s presence. However, he interjected again before said man even had the chance to speak: “you’ve come to finish me off, haven’t ya? Since ya couldn’t get it right the first time.”

“I’ve come with something,” Tommy answered, not even bothering to respond to Alfie’s second comment.

He then stepped towards the chair that the other man was sitting in, his hands still behind his back. Anyone else would have wondered if maybe they’d got it right…maybe he was actually there to finish his old adversary off. But Alfie wasn’t bothered in the slightest. No, he could tell from the manner in which Tommy approached him.

“I want to offer a congratulations…on your daughter,” Tommy finished his statement once he was standing in front of Alfie. Alfie looked him over with raised eyebrows, wondering just how a busy, business-minded man like him would have gotten such information. “(Y/N) told me the news. She got word of it from Rose,” Tommy gave the curious man some more information.

“That Rosie…” Alfie mused with a slight shake of his head, “I had a feelin’ that she hadn’t cut off all contact with you Shelbys.” He couldn’t help but smile at the thought of his wife still keeping up a regular correspondence with the wife of the man who’d shot him.

(Y/N) and Rose had hit it off practically from the moment they met each other. Their friendship went beyond their husbands’ business partnership, and so when one disgruntled husband aimed a gun at the other and pulled the trigger, the two women tried hard not to let it come completely between them. There some time where radio silence prevailed…actually most out the time over the course of the last year was filled with radio silence, but it didn’t seem like a beat was missed when Rose contacted (Y/N) to tell her of the newest addition to the Solomons family.

Although Tommy was more hesitant to make amends, he couldn’t deny his wife’s request to deliver something to the newest Solomons.

“She wanted me to give you this,” Tommy then said, finally revealing the tan, stuffed rabbit that he’d brought with him. “To give to her,” he included, making his intentions more clear.

“I knew you weren’t givin’ me a stuffed rabbit,” Alfie quipped, snorting to himself before continuing, “or at least I hope you were plannin’ to.”

“I wasn’t planning on doing that, Alfie, no,” Tommy shook his head, dismissing the comment before it gained any ground. “The rabbit’s for your girl.”

Alfie took a moment to look over the other man again. He was still holding the rabbit out in front of him, waiting for Alfie to take it. Tommy wondered how long Alfie was going to make him stand like this.

Finally he took it. “She’ll like it,” Alfie stated, eyeing over the animal from close up now. He couldn’t deny that it felt soft in his hands. Allie would surely love it. “Thanks, Tommy.”

“My three couldn’t go to bed without it,” Tommy commented, a small smile gracing his lips as he thought of his three daughters and the love they had for that very stuffed rabbit.

A look of realization flashed across Alfie’s face as he heard Tommy’s comment. He brought his hand up to his jaw and ran it down his cheek slowly, stroking his beard as if he was in thought. “Have a seat,” he then said, gesturing to the chair that was set directly across from the one he was sitting in. He waited until the other man was seated before continuing, “three girls, huh?” he mused, sounding like he was talking more so to himself than anything.

“Yeah,” Tommy nodded in response.

“A proper girl dad,” Alfie commented then.

“A what?” Tommy asked with furrowed eyebrows.

“You’re a dad that’s got all girls, hence the fucking term girl dad…stick with it, Tommy,” the response came laden with derision.

Tommy raised his eyebrows at the other man’s comments, looking to the ground as he let the air cool off before he cleared his throat and nodded his head. “Yeah, a girl dad then.” He ran a hand along the back of his head as he spoke, wondering if he was even using the term correctly. Alfie didn’t comment, so he guessed that he didn’t seem to care none.

Instead the newer father continued on with the conversation. “Does it ever get hard?”

“What? Being a girl dad?” Tommy looked over at him again.

“No, not being able to hit your fucking mark when you’re fifteen fucking paces away,” Alfie retorted, “yes, being a girl dad,” he then exaggerated his words.

Tommy bit his tongue yet again. He wasn’t here to get into a fight with Alfie Solomons. The rabbit currently sitting in the other man’s lap was supposed to serve as a sort of olive branch.

“It does,” he finally answered after a moment’s pause.

“Give me some fuckin’ detail, mate,” Alfie asked.

“Fuckin’ hell, Alfie,” Tommy sighed under his breath, pressing the pads of his thumbs against his eyelids. He cleared his throat again as he thought of how he’d answer the question. “It’s been hard from the moment we brought Thea home. A different sort of hard than the ‘hard’ I’ve experienced prior. But it’s also been rewarding...with Thea, then Evie and now Juniper. I’ve learned more from them than from anything else I’ve ever done.”

Alfie took a moment to digest what his confidant had just shared with him. He truly didn’t expect Tommy Shelby to come out with such meaningful statements. I guess even the worst of men can change their tones, he thought to himself. “I didn’t know ya had it in ya, Tommy,” he commented, exuding a breath of a laugh as he shook his head.

Tommy kept his eyes locked on Alfie unsure of how to respond to his comment. He wondered if this was all some sort of game…if Alfie now wanted to toy with him; getting him to open up just to use the information against him.

“Thanks for sharing it though. I, uh…” Alfie paused, the sound of his voice cutting through Tommy’s thoughts and making him focus in again. “I’ll take all of the help I can get with this one. They say that raising a child takes a fucking village, or however that fucking saying goes.”

“There’s a great deal of joy in it too,” Tommy made sure to add, hoping to convey that having daughters, or kids at all for that matter, wasn’t only stressful. “I just know that I wouldn’t be able to do it without (Y/N) though.”

“That’s the same with me and my Rosie. A fuckin’ trooper, that woman is,” Alfie agreed in regards to his wife. Truthfully, he wouldn’t be here right now if it weren’t for Rose Solomons. He genuinely owed his life to her…and he was going to spend the rest of it showing her.

Silence fell between the two men then, both sitting comfortably in their thoughts of the women they had in their lives, and of how much their respective wives meant to them. The silence hung until the sound of small feet came pattering off of the hardwood in the hallway.

“Daddy! Daddy!” a shrill voice of a small girl soon accompanied the hurried footsteps. Said girl quickly appeared in the archway of Alfie office. Along with her frantic demeanor, Alfie was also able to see streaks of tears on her chreks.

“What’s wrong, Allie?” he asked her, his brows furrowing together.

“Cyril chewed on my stuffie, daddy!” she exclaimed, hiccuping as she spoke through her tears. “It was my favorite stuffie!”

“Awe now love, I’m sorry about that,” Alfie began, opening his arms to the child as she came over to him. She quickly fell into them, and he wasted no time in hugging her tightly. “He’s just a brute that knows nothing of favorite stuffies,” he consoled her as she continued to sniffle her tears away.

Tommy watched on as the moment played out in front of him. He laughed to himself as hearing the reason behind the problem at hand took him back to the moments where Cyril had chewed his girls’ stuffies; there had to have been several instances during the dog’s stay at Arrow House.

“I don’t have a stuffie now, daddy,” Allie whimpered, finally lifting her head from her father’s chest. “Mum said it was too covered in slobber to be saved.”

“Well I’ve got just the fix for ya, Allie,” Alfie began, unwrapping one of his arms from her so that he could blindly search for the stuffed rabbit that Tommy had just handed him. He continued when he found the animal, “now I know it’s no bear, and I know that your favorite stuffies have all been bears, but this lovely little lass was just placed upon my lap moments before you came runnin’ in.”

Allie’s eyes immediately found the rabbit, and she had it in her tight embrace within an instant. “This stuffie is so soft! And she has a lovely bow!” she observed, now beaming with excitement. “Thank you so much, daddy!” she smiled at her father.

“Thanks have to go to that man,” Alfie told his daughter, nodding in Tommy’s direction. He bit his tounge and stopped the urge to add ‘the one who shot your father’ because even he knew this wasn’t the time for that. He didn’t want to bring that feud into Allie’s realm.

“What’s his name?” Allie asked in a loud whisper, her shy eyes finding Tommy’s.

“Tell ‘er your name, mate,” Alfie beckoned Tommy to share the information.

“It’s Tommy,” the other man followed suit, smiling as he spoke.

Allie observed him for a moment, surely trying to decide what she felt about him. A few beats of silence passed before a smile formed on her face. “Thank you, Mr. Tommy,” she said in a small voice.

“You’re welcome, Allie,” Tommy nodded, his smile widening.

“Dad you have to yell at Cyril now,” Allie turned back to her dad, a deep frown present on her face.

“I’ll make sure he knows what he’s done,” Alfie assured her, “go play, love.”

With one last smile, Allie hopped off of her father’s lap and exited the room almost as quick as she entered it.

“That fuckin’ dog…” Alfie trailed off, shaking his head, “why’d you give him back?”

“You wanted him back, Alfie,” Tommy answered in a monotone voice.

“You may be right,” Alfie conceded, cracking a smile as he thought about the dog.

“Your daughter’s lovely,” Tommy commented.

“She is, ain’t she?” Alfie answered, “light of my fuckin’ life, that girl…both her and her mum.”

Tommy nodded, his mind going to his wife and daughters. There was no doubt that he shared the same sentiment towards his girls.

Oh, the joys of being a girl dad…even if — or rather when, because it’ll surely happen again — Tommy and Alfie were at odds with each other, they’ll always have the shared title as something they can both relate to.

MASTERLIST

The Story of Rose and Alfie

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21

@mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @notyour-valentine @theshelbyslimited

@peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss

@alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl

@emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife

@anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08

@insanitybyanothername @depxiety @justrainandcoffee @dragons-are-my-favorite @forgottenpeakywriter

@cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable

@thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife @jomarch-wannabe @ryecosse @padfootdaredmetoo

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lazycats-stuff · 4 months

Note

Hello author. I hope your having a splendid day

May I request a reader x batfamily ( a year younger than Damian)

They are a Demi god of lightning and electricity.

He has been having a hard time with cases and failing and stuff like that, too much pressure. And he’s kind of hitting his breaking point.

So during a fight with a villain, alone. The villain corrupts the reader and makes him evil.

For a few months he became a villain and barely anyone could stop him. The batfamily at first didn’t know it was him but during a mission that was orders by the villain that corrupted him, to kill Althea (your oc) but Althea got away with injures but saw his face and told her mom and her mom told bats.

So with this new information the batfamily were more devastated .

With the help of the justice league the batfamily are in a show down with the reader, somewhere near a cliff and they fight and while also talking about their memories together. Reader was too powerful though and restrains everyone with use his electricity. His eyes are red and with dead eyes he walks towards any batfamily member of your choice and was about to deliver the final blow before the bat member looks at them and says ‘ I love you, my son/little brother’ reader hesitates and his eyes widens and filled with tears, the red disappearing.

He’s of course confused and disoriented, he steps back and not notices the cliff. His mind coming back to me as he slowly lets his restaions of the others disappear. He steps back near the cliff and looks back into the abyss and back at his family and friends. With regret and a messed up mind right now thinking he won’t be forgiven, he purposely steps back and fall down the cliff. No one was fast enough to stop his fall and he dies.

They retrieve his body and they’re just depressed and stuff for a while hut Damian won’t allow his only little sibling to die and takes his body to talia and he gets revived back. when he brings unconscious reader back, the batfamily are upset at him for doing a dangerous act but happy that it went well.

Sorry it’s too long.

Hi anon, I hope you have have a splendid day too. Also, don't worry about the length. Lets go.

Summary: (Y/N) gets taken and is broken. The family has to save him.

Warnings: angst, fluff, SUICIDE- read at your own risk everyone!, near death of another character, the fam is suffering...

(Y/N) Wayne, the youngest child in the family and the only child who isn't really human. He is a demigod you see, a demigod of lighting and electricity. I think you can guess that his biological dad is Zeus. Because of it, he got close to Wonder Woman her daughter, Althea. He liked them both and he didn't mind hanging out with them.

He was a good detective too. Bruce was happy and proud, but made sure he wasn't over working himself and neglecting himself like, ahem, Tim. He was different from the rest of the family too. He didn't really have a traumatic past. His mom left him, but the Justice League and Bruce took care of him.

He was really close with his brothers too. Jason and Dick made sure he didn't overwork himself, Tim was fascinated with his powers and how they worked and Damian liked to just hang out with him in general. (Y/N) is the only person he liked and tolerated.

But times have shifted a little bit. (Y/N) was overworked and he was just dead inside. The pressure to solve the cases was piling and piling on and while (Y/N) knew that Bruce wouldn't mind if he took a break, he knew it wouldn't fit his own image. He would be disappointed in him, although not outwardly, inwardly.

He was nearing his breaking his point. He hid it well from the others, not wanting to disappoint them or worry them. He worked himself to the bone, closing in and refusing to open up. He knew he needed to do this and solve this. These cases need to be solved one way or another.

One way or another. It was time to get this shit over with and to do this as best as he can. He needs to get as far away from this pressure and from this breaking point as soon as possible. ASAP. Bruce explained to him that whenever he is nearing that point, he should take a break, but there are people depending him to solve this shit.

(Y/N) hated this shit more than anything else in the world. He really wanted to get this over with. Frustration, anger, sadness... He really wants to feel happy...

Is that so wrong to feel and wish for.

(Y/N) knew that he had to tell someone. Maybe Wonder Woman and Althea would be a better option to talk to, but those two were raised as warriors and they probably don't put emotions on the first place. Mental health is a difficult area to navigate. (Y/N) didn't even sleep from time to time, for a few days, school also being a big overwhelming factor in this stuff. He had good grades, not a straight A student, but still a good student. That was more than enough for Bruce who simply says to do your best in school.

If (Y/N)'s grades dropped, then Bruce would've caught on. Really caught on and he would force (Y/N) to stop with the cases and patrol.

(Y/N) knew it was a bad idea to do this. But there was nobody to help him in this fight. It's said that every single batkid has his own villains. Well, (Y/N) could fricking confirm it. This bastard was a pain in his ass for him and for the rest of the family. (Y/N) was thrown into the wall and he grunted as he tried to get up.

It was difficult, but he managed to do it.

He glared at the villain, clenching his fist. He could feel electricity coursing through his veins, out right refusing to back down. He could feel his eyes turning electric blue. The villain used his powers to disappear into the shadows, making (Y/N) scowl.

" Did you really come here alone? " The villain said from the shadows, making (Y/N) look around, trying to pinpoint the source of the voice. He really didn't like this at all.

" That is brave. Coming here alone to face me. " (Y/N) scowled more as he heard mocking tone in his voice, knowing that facing alone this type of villain is not good and not advisable. (Y/N) threw some electricity at the villain.

He didn't know whether or not he has hit him, but he moved, not wanting to stay somewhere where he could be a sitting duck and more so an easy target for the villain. Shadow and darkness is a scary place and although his family could often be found in it, (Y/N) thought of them as some sort of beacons of light. Sure, they were dark figures, but they were bringing hope and justice.

That sounds like a paradox or oxymoron, but it was true. But being a person in the darkness and shadows and being evil... Yeah... Not good. Really not good.

(Y/N) turned his head when he heard something behind him, but that was a distraction. The real blow came from the front, leaving (Y/N) no time to react as he was thrown into the darkness and into the shadows. (Y/N) couldn't get his bearings together and he was panicking now. He had to get out of this cloud of darkness. He really had to.

He had to.

He started walking, hands reaching out to try and feel where a wall is. Everything was dark and he had no idea where he was going. One guess would be hell, one would be the exit for this stupid building. (Y/N) hoped that he was on his way to the exit, but hey, you can't have it all, can you?

(Y/N) pushed on, but screamed only a few moments later when the shadows pulled him in, invading his mind, breaking through his defenses easily. NO! Fighting was futile though, (Y/N) knew it. (Y/N) knew that very well.

" Just surrender. It will be easier. " The voice said and (Y/N) knew that he couldn't fight and with the last bit of resistance, (Y/N) allowed the darkness to take over his mind.

For now, it was over.

The entire family was loosing their collective minds and their shit. Each in their own way. Some were silent, but some were more emotional and taking it out on criminals. Ahem, Jason. Bruce was quiet and worked non stop to to find his youngest son, his child. Alfred was on the verge of killing someone.

It was difficult to even function normally without their family member. Also, there is another problem on the horizon. A new villain was on the prowl and he was good. Bruce saw he had a lot of training that was far too good for some amateur.

What the hell is going on here?

Bruce was overworked and asked Wonder Woman and Superman to try to locate this new villain because his son was a far more bigger priority than some stupid villain coming to their scene so to speak. Bruce had no time or patience for it.

If only Bruce knew.

Wonder Woman and Superman were doing a good job at tracking the new villain, making sure to communicate with Batman and offer comfort whenever they could. They would often see their nephews, trying to bring some comfort to the poor boys who lost their brother.

For a few months, there were no clues, nothing. Not about a new villain, not about (Y/N) either. Bruce was on the edge of an abyss and he can't do anything to stop himself from going over the edge. A little push was needed and then he would be long gone in that aspect.

The entire batfamily was at the Justice League HQ, looking through intel. Wonder Woman and Superman were in the middle of presenting the intel they managed to obtain when Althea burst through the doors, falling down on her knees, making Wonder Woman gasp before running towards her daughter.

" Althea! " She said, clearly worried and Bruce walked up to the duo, trying to see if Althea is okay.

" Mom, it's (Y/N)... " She said before coughing up more blood, making the inside of her mouth red.

" What about (Y/N)? " Bruce asked quickly, hoping she would stay awake and conscience long enough for him to know. Everyone was waiting patiently for Althea to start.

" (Y/N) is the villain. " She said, coughing even more and Wonder Woman picked her up and ran towards the medical wing of the HQ.

When Wonder Woman left, the room was shrouded in silence. Tense and palpable. Bruce had to sit down. No. No. (Y/N) couldn't have... Dick wiped his eyes as he started crying softly. Bruce broke out of his trance and quickly hugged his sons in a big group hug.

" I know... " Bruce said, pausing to compose himself. " But now we know that (Y/N) is alive. He is somewhat okay. " Bruce said as he swallowed with a bit of difficulty.

(Y/N) was alive. (Y/N) IS alive. They will bring their brother and son home. No matter what.

Well, (Y/N) got stronger during his kidnapping. His eyes were red and nobody could even get close to him. Tim and Dick were unable to move from being restrained by electricity and the other three members were trying everything they could fricking think of. Everything. They have tried to awake his memories. From when he was little, from when they did stupid pranks... Anything they could think of.

Nothing worked.

Soon enough, everyone was restrained with electricity and (Y/N) looked like he was going to kill them. Bruce watched his son as he walked over to him, ready to finish him. Bruce watched in silence as (Y/N) was ready to kill him. But there was one thing that they didn't try just yet.

Bruce watched as his son raised his fist up, ready to strike. Ready to kill.

" I love you son. " Bruce said as he smile and (Y/N) stopped.

The red was gone. The red was gone! Bruce smiled even more and the boys were waiting with a baited breath as to what would (Y/N) do. They didn't expect the tears. But by God, it was a sight they were hoping.

The shadow chains were getting broken.

(Y/N) was slowly moving backwards, going to the edge of the cliff, hands gripping his hair and head. Everything was coming back to him... What he did to Althea... His brothers... His dad, father.... What he did when he was under the villain's control...

(Y/N) looked back at the edge of a cliff, seeing the waves crash at the hard stone... Usually, (Y/N) would love to watch it, just to relax. But now, (Y/N) only sees the dark abyss. Everyone at one point is just standing at the edge of that abyss and then, sometimes, the abyss blinks back at you.

He glanced back at his family, who were out of the restraints, just waiting for (Y/N) to say something. (Y/N) couldn't really see their faces due to tears, but he did wonder one single thing.

Would they forgive him? Would Althea forgive him?

(Y/N) shook his head as he took another backwards, he could feel the edge, right at his heels. His mind was in shambles, ruins... He wouldn't be forgiven...

He knew that his family wouldn't forgive him. But Althea might kill him... (Y/N) looked back at his family once more, one last time. He swallowed and closed his eyes for a moment.

" I'm sorry. "

Bruce's eyes widened and he knew exactly what he was going to do and he got up and ran towards (Y/N), but it was too late. (Y/N) took a step over the edge, falling backwards into the waves and onto the hard rocks. Bruce leapt forward, hands grabbing the edge, but it was too late.

Bruce watched his son laying down there, waves washing over him. Bruce closed his eyes as he heard a scream behind him and then there was sobbing. Bruce looked up towards the sky, which opened up and Bruce for a moment thought that the sky was crying over their son.

The boys were destroyed and Bruce was destroyed with them... Oh God... Alfred will be destroyed too... Bruce allowed his tears to fall, and those tears were mixed with the rain.

Bruce swore that someone came in and took a part of soul. Just took it and ripped it out of his chest. A part of his heart was also taken and shattered. He look back at his sons, quickly grouping them into a hug, wanting to give them as much comfort as he can.

" Why? " Damian asked, shaken to his core.

" He said he was sorry... He thought we wouldn't forgive him... " Bruce said, burying his face into Damian's hair.

The boys all cried, crying out for their brother. Their souls and hearts were shattered too.

The world seemed to cry for (Y/N) Wayne.

Unfortunately, they couldn't bury (Y/N) just yet. They had to make sure that there were no restraints on his mind and body... And maybe they weren't ready to bury him just yet. They all hoped for a miracle to happen. Maybe (Y/N) would wake up and just be hey guys... But they all knew that wouldn't happen.

They were all grieving for (Y/N) in their own ways, but Damian was hurting the most. He was thinking about (Y/N) all the time and he cried alone in his room, thinking about his brother. The house was silent and there was no way it could ever be the same.

Damian thought about his grandfather and the Lazarus pit... Maybe... Just maybe...

The way back was easier than the way to Lazarus pit. Talia didn't expect him to come, especially not with his younger brother, well, half brother but still. Talia met (Y/N) and she did like him. She didn't know what happened, but she felt bad for the poor boy. She also didn't expect that Damian would want to use the pit, but she wasn't going to stop him.

She helped him put (Y/N) in the pit, waiting and watching. The color was coming back to his cheeks. There was that infamous white streak in his hair... Damian watched with a bated breath, hoping it would work.

After a few minutes, they checked for a pulse. Damian sighed in relief as he felt a pulse. His brother was alive... He is alive.... Talia watched as Damian took (Y/N) into his arms, lifting him out of the water, hugging him tightly.

She left the two brothers alone, allowing Damian to have a moment to get himself ready. He had to go back home...

As said before, the way back was easier and oddly enough, he made it just in time for dinner. He didn't question it and walked through, carrying his now alive brother.

Bruce spat out his water and the rest paled. There was (Y/N), but he looked like he was sleeping. He had more color than he had...

" Damian, " Bruce started as he stood up, not sure what more to say. The rest was quiet. " What did you do? "

" I used the Lazarus pit. "

That sentence... Bruce's eyes widened as he walked closer to his now alive son... He took (Y/N) into his arms, trying not to cry. (Y/N) was alive... He is alive.

" Lets put him to bed. " Bruce said with a strain in his voice. The other 3 boys jumped from their seats to really see if their brother is really alive.

(Y/N) was alive... They all cried softly as they realized that (Y/N) was alive... (Y/N) is alive!

They were happy, but mad at the same time since Damian didn't tell anyone of them what the hell he was planning. But they were happy and maybe their family could be whole again, once more.

#dc comics #dc x male reader #x male reader #batfamily #bruce wayne x male reader #batman x male reader #jason todd x male reader #red hood x male reader #dick grayson x male reader #nightwing x male reader #tim drake x male reader #red robin x male reader #damian wayne x male reader #robin x male reader

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holly-the-trash-writer · 1 year

Text

Runaway Fiancé Part 1

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Part 2

Summary: You find out about J.J's love confession to Spencer, one month before your wedding. Why didn't Spencer tell you? Does he love her too? Can you get past this or will J.J come between you?

Word Count: 2,295

A/N: This was another work with an OC character but I really wanted to do it again with Reader. Also. I'm sorry. But J.J sucks. (I'll be honest I've never seen this episode because I refuse but like... bitch, you better be joking)

Yours and Spencer’s wedding day was coming up fast.

The happiest day of your lives was only a month away.

That’s when J.J and Spencer got caught up in a life-threatening situation and flipped everything on its head.

You could tell that something changed with Spencer after the ordeal.

He pulled away from you almost completely, he barely listened to any of your wedding plans and yous hadn’t spoken properly in two days.

Now, being held at gun point isn’t something you can just walk away from, everyone on the team knows that but that’s not what’s wrong here.

There was something else. You were sure of it.

And it all decided to come to blows on Rossi’s wedding night.

Spencer wasn’t himself. He isn’t spinning you around on the dancefloor like he usually did or doing magic with Henry or even laughing with the team.

Instead, the love of your life was sitting at the table alone, drinking and thinking.

You watched him stare into space and decided to ask Penelope about it. She would know if something was going on.

You made your way over to the dancefloor where Luke was spinning Penelope around.

You felt bad to interrupt them, but you needed to know if Penelope knew anything.

Narrowly avoiding their waving hands, you tapped Penelope on the shoulder, “I’m so sorry to interrupt but can I talk to you for a minute, P?”

Penelope grinned and linked arms with you, “Of course!” before they walked off, she waved her finger seriously at Luke, “Do not move.” to which Luke only laughed.

You led her over to the corner and subtly gestured to Spencer who was sitting with his back to you, “Has he said anything to you about the other day?”

Penelope thought for a moment before shaking her head, “No, honey, why do you ask?”

“He’s barely spoken to me, danced or even talked to Henry. He’s been sitting there drinking quietly almost all night and I’m worried that whatever happened in that shop really got to him.”

Penelope looked over sadly, “He hasn’t said anything to me. But I’m sure he’s alright, just a bit shaken up. He just needs some of your good lovin and he will be our regular boy wonder again.” She nudged you knowingly, “And it’s probably this reception is making him think of his own big day in a few weeks.”

“Yeah.” You smiled at the thought of your wedding being so close, “You’re probably right. I’m feeling it myself. This will be me soon.”

Penelope grinned and gave her a hug, “And it will be perfect. I’ll make sure of it.”

You giggled and gave her a big hug, “Thanks, P.”

With Penelope’s words fresh in your brain, you decided to just make Spencer feel as loved and cared for as possible, letting him know you were here when he felt ready to come to you. You grabbed two fresh drinks from the bar and made your way over to the table Spencer was sitting at.

You slowed down and couldn’t stop the small frown appearing on your face when you noticed that J.J was now sitting beside him and the two were talking quietly.

When you had found out that Spencer used to have a crush on J.J it really twisted your view of her. Not that it was her fault of course. But since they were such good friends, you just couldn’t help the insecurity that bubbled within you when they spent time together. Not that you’d ever say anything to anyone about it.

Taking a deep breath, you shook off any of the negative feelings. You were just going to walk up and join them; you didn’t mean to eavesdrop on their conversation.

“What I said… I said to throw the unsub off. Nothing more.” J.J’s voice wavered.

Spencer sighed, “Truth or dare?”

J.J turned to him, her eyes were shining with tears, “Truth.”

“Did you mean it?” Spencer turned his head to look at her as well, “Do you love me?”

Your blood ran cold.

Your heart thundered in your chest as the fog cleared and you now understood why Spencer had been acting so distant all day.

J.J told Spencer she loved him.

Your fiancé.

Your brain began to shut down and go ninety miles per hour all at the same time. You couldn’t process what just happened.

Spencer nodded, the look on J.J’s face told him more than words ever could. He pushed his chair back and moved to turn away from the table which, unfortunately for you, meant that he was now frozen in place and staring right at you. J.J noticed Spencer freeze and turned in the seat also stiffening when she saw you there.

You were just standing there like an idiot with a glass in each hand.

“Y/n?" Spencer called softly.

Your eyes darted between the two, before your flight response kicked in and you placed the two drinks quickly on the table, blurting out an, “Excuse me.” and rushing away from the table.

You were not going to make a scene on Rossi's wedding day. Absolutely not.

“Wait!” Spencer rushed after you before you made it outside and grabbed your wrist, “Y/n, please, this isn’t-”

J.J had also followed the couple and interrupted Spencer, “Y/n it isn’t what you think.”

“I really don’t want to hear anything from you right now. Okay?” You kept your voice low, “Your husband is looking for you.”

J.J nodded, knowing she was not wanted here and quickly vacated the area before it got worse.

You were so furious as you turned on your heel and walked away, forcing a smile to anyone you passed before finally making it outside.

You knew Spencer was following you, so you walked around the house until you were far enough away from everyone else.

You rounded on him immediately, “What is going on? And I’m not stupid Spencer so don’t even think of lying to me or try to run me in circles.” It was freezing outside but you couldn’t feel it as the anger inside you was keeping you warm.

Spencer just stared at you with wide eyes.

“Spencer Reid, so help me. I’m not angry often but you’ve seen it and I am two seconds away from combustion. Now, I don’t like jumping to conclusions, but this situation isn’t looking good, for either of you.”

“We are not sleeping together. I would never do that to you.” Spencer rushed out quickly, he knows where your mind was headed and he needed to get the truth out as fast as possible, “When, uh, when we were tied up, he ordered J.J to tell a secret she’s been too afraid to say, or he was going to shoot her. So, she- she told me that she has always loved me.”

She told me that she has always loved me.

You didn’t know if you wanted to laugh, cry or scream at this point.

This entire situation was ridiculous!

J.J has always loved him? Since when?! Where? In which universe? Because it certainly wasn’t this one.

You couldn’t wrap your head around this.

So, you inhaled and said the only thing you could, “And you?”

“And me what?” he frowned at you in confusion.

“Do you love her, Spencer?” You knew that there was a history there, years ago. He asked her on a date which J.J then brought Penelope to, and nothing ever came out of it. You thought it was over.

But apparently having kids and marrying another man still doesn’t mean you don’t love someone else!

Spencer was silent for a moment and then he took a step towards you, “I love you, Y/n.”

You could feel the tears welling up as Spencer deflected, “That’s not what I asked, Spencer.”

Spencer walked towards you, but you stepped back with each step he took, “Y/n...” he pleaded.

You couldn’t do this. You can’t process all this information.

You waved your hands at him, pleading him to stay back, “I need to think about this.” You rushed past him as fast as your heels would carry you. Making your way back inside and over to the table, grabbing your bag and shawl from the chair as quickly and as quietly as possible.

You could feel the tears threatening to spill over. You kept breathing deeply to try and keep them at bay until you were out of here.

You took one last glance around, watching the team all laughing, dancing and chatting happily, completely unaware of the breakdown that was crashing over you. You spotted J.J across the room dancing happily with Will.

Anger boiled inside you and turned and left the room before you trailed her by her hair.

You haven’t felt this petty since high school but that’s what you wanted to do.

You sniffed and rustled through your bag to find your phone and calling a cab company. Looking around you decided to hide behind the large tree in Rossi’s front garden and wait. Praying that no one saw you.

“Y/n?”

You cursed heavily and stepped back into the light and watched Emily making her way towards you.

“Hey, what are you doing out here?” she smiled.

You forced a smile back and clutched your shawl tighter around your shoulders, “I’m leaving.”

“What? Leaving?” Emily’s jaw was on the floor in shock. “Why?”

“I can’t be here. I need to leave, and I need to go right now. I don’t want to ruin Rossi’s big day.”

“Okay, woah.” Emily stepped closer and raised your hands to stop you, “Slow down and take a deep breath.”

You nodded and followed your boss’s instructions.

“Now, what’s going on?”

You didn’t even really know what was going on yourself. One second you were excited for your wedding and the next your fiancé was held at gun point and his old crush-slash-best friend told him she has always loved him and there was a possibility that he also loved her too.

Huh, maybe you could explain what was going on.

You opened your mouth to explain but the beeping of the taxi behind you stopped you and you sighed in relief, “I’ll explain later but, please, don’t say to anyone, not even Spencer. I’ll text you. I will.” She talked as she opened the door of the cab and slid in and gave the driver her address.

“Y/n!”

You heard someone yell after you as the taxi began driving away, turning around to look out the back window you saw Spencer panting and standing in the garden beside Emily, looking as though he had just run around the building to find you.

Your eyes locked and neither of you broke it until the driver was outside the property and your fiancé was no longer in sight.

---

Spencer had gotten the next cab as quickly as he could. Ignoring all of Emily’s questions as he began calling and calling and calling you. He told the driver to go to his apartment, hoping you would be there, but it was empty.

He sprinted back down to the cab driver to give him your address.

He threw the money at the driver; more than the fare even cost as he got out of the cab and glad of his long legs as he took the stairs two at a time until he made it to your door; he couldn’t have been more than thirty minutes behind you.

“Y/n!?” he yelled as he searched all the rooms, “Baby, please.” He ran into your bedroom and saw the closet open, and a few clothes were taken. He looked under your bed and saw your go bag missing, “No, no, no, no.”

He felt the tears forming in his eyes as he stumbled back into main area. Beginning to hyperventilate and glancing around the room until his eyes fell on an envelope.

An envelope with his name on it.

Empty apartments and letters with names on them are never good.

This just reminds him of when Gideon left him, and everyone knew how much that devastated him.

He ran his hands through his hair and down his face before walking over to the counter and picking up the letter.

He let out a sigh of relief as the envelope wasn’t weighted which meant that meant her engagement ring wasn’t in it which filled Spencer with a little hope.

He ripped open the envelope and read over the letter five times before the words sank in.

Spence,

My love, I’m sorry I left without telling you why in person. I know what that did to you when Gideon left, but I just couldn’t bring myself to talk about it at Rossi’s wedding.

I needed to get away from the situation.

I don’t know how to process this and being around J.J will only make it worse.

So, I’m going away for a few days. I need to think this through, and I hope you do as well.

You are the greatest thing in my life, and I hope that you never doubt that.

You may say you didn’t, but you hesitated when I asked you if you love her and then you didn’t say yes or no.

I can’t marry someone who is in love with someone else and I’m sure you can’t either.

Please think about what and who you want to be with.

Please, don’t try to find me. I’m safe and I’m checking in with Emily.

I’ll see you soon and I love you so much,

Y/n x

Spencer fell to his knees when he finished reading the letter.

You were gone, and he wasn’t sure if he was going to get you back.

#spencer reid angst #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #criminal minds

2K notes · View notes

trevuorzegras · 2 months

Text

━╋ SHE WAS BORING

✿ umich cheer au part one ⬚͒ㅤㅤㅤ♪

ⓘ all works for this series can be found on the #wrong time is an inconvenience au tag! ❤︎

fem!reader x mark estapa

mentions of fem!reader x cole sillinger

mentions of mark estapa x fem!oc

faceclaim: jules leblanc

find the series masterlist, here!

colesillinger

colesillinger: my girl. ❤️

liked by adamfantilli, bluejacketsnhl, and others

user1: uhh did y/n dye her hair??

↳ yourusername: i very much did not. still very much a brunette. 🙃

↳ user2: wait what? yourusername

user3: i’m so confused

user4: dude did you mean to post this.. cause..

jadewinters: what the fuck??

↳ colesillinger: is there a problem jaden?

jadewinters: watch yourself sillinger.

user5: what is going on??

user6: isn’t y/n back at uni..?

↳ user7: yeah y/n is also NOT A BLONDE.

liked by yourusername

user8: he just openly posted about him cheating.. ok..

user9: y’all act like a man can’t have friends 🤣🤣

↳ user10: they’re kissing, if that’s friends then 💀

user11: interesting.. 🙃

(PINNED) colesillinger: coming at me like i care, she was boring so i traded up 🤷‍♂️

↳ user12: you’re so fucking odd bro

yourusername: good to see where you stand. this definitely could’ve been handled privately; but if this is how you want it, so be it. have a good life, and an amazing nhl career, cole. 🩷

↳ user13: this is actually so upsetting. she’s genuinely too kind to be treated like this.

user14: i thought you guys were end game wtf

adamfantilli: yk i love you dude, but what the fuck is wrong with you bro

↳ user15: even adam knows ts is wrong

this post has been deleted.

yourusername

yourusername: been a very productive day! 1) got cheated on. 2) went to a hockey game! 3) went to a post hockey party! 4) met some of the team 5) got absolutely shit faced with jadewinters oh! and i took this beautiful picture of dylanduke5

liked by edwards.73, luca.fantilli, and others

(PINNED) yourusername: i have practice tomorrow, and jade let me do this. whatever #goblue 〽️

lhughes_06: i really shouldn’t have left you alone at umich. 💀

↳ yourusername: can’t believe you never introduced me to your team, especially since they’re this fun to be around

↳ lhughes_06: ?? that’s EXACTLY why i didn’t introduce you to them. yourusername

user16: THERES ABSOLUTELY NO WAY

user17: SHE MET THE TEAM?

user18: cheerleader meets hockey players

markestapa: hope to see you again y/n

↳ yourusername: boy i gave you my number

↳ jadewinters: oh did you now 😏 yourusername

lhughes_06: so it’s YOUR fault that y/n met the hockey team. jadewinters

↳ jadewinters: shut up mr nhl

user19: they seem like such a fun group 😭

user20: DUKER 💀

umichcheer: the second slide is correct! (also we’re ignoring the caption.)

↳ yourusername: oh… thanks guys love you

user21: the cheer account being in the comments LMFAO

user22: ETHAN AND MARK

user23: y’all on about the umich guys when y/n is RIGHT THERE HELLO???

liked by yourusername

user24: can’t wait to see more of y/n at the hockey games 🥅🏒〽️

luca.fantilli: OH YEAH

user25: the picture of y/n and jade awe 😭

user26: hope you had fun!

user27: puck bunnie

↳ yourusername: i prefer umich fan but thank you!

↳ user28: LMFOOAOAOOA yourusername

dylanduke5: oh i look dashing!

↳ yourusername: of course you do duker pooker 🥰

edwards.75: me and y/n become bestfriends if anyone is wondering

↳ yourusername: he accidentally drank my drink three times and kept apologizing, + said he’ll be my bestfriend & buy me whatever i want if i forgave him

user29: so many unexpected duos omg

user30: beauty

user31: WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THE CAPTION??

↳ user32: SHES SO UNBOTHERED IM CRYING

user33: cole fumbled and she’s living her best life LMFOAOAOA

rutgermcgroarty: no one talk to us we’re doing hot girl shit *hair flip*

↳ yourusername: boy go to BED 😭😭

user34: y/n it’s 3 am. 💀

its 5 am i’m so tired but i wanted to get at least one chapter done since i haven’t really worked on anything recently. find my masterlist, here!!

taglist | @wnderify (comment 2 be added)

also little psa! i love cole, so don’t even start with that please, it’s for the plot guys trust!

207 notes · View notes

wonwoonlight · 10 months

Text

dear autumn / jeon wonwoo

➝ Wonwoo x Reader (ft. Joshua, Seungcheol, Mingyu, etc.)

➝ nonidol!au // angst???? // romance // fluff?????? // drama...ish??? // soulmate!au // somewhat past life!au

➝ word count: 18k (lol🧍🏻‍♀️) // playlist🎶

➝warnings: curses, lots of pov changes i'm sorry lol, i'm honestly not sure if the pace is a abrupt or not?, i'm not sure how you'll like this OC, she cries quite a lot towards the end sddfgd, that's about it i think

➝A/N: happy birthday, wonwoo❤ shoutout to @ahundredtimesover who's not even a carat but readily brainstormed with me when i asked🥺😭 also special thanks to @sleeplessdawn @twogyuu @savventeen for sparing your time to talk with me when i was unsure where to go with the plot💕💕 i'm gonna talk more on the author notes at the end instead of here. enjoy! hope you'll like this and don't hesitate to drop by and tell me what you think abt it even if you... don't like it sdjhfbsjhdf

In a world where everyone bears the soulmate mark to find the one heaven perfectly made for them, Wonwoo is an outlier with no marks in sight. But he has more pressing matters to attend to because he remembers his past life and the promise he made to his soulmate that he’d find her again no matter what. Alternatively, He didn’t think he’d be reborn in a world where you are made for someone else.

Wonwoo isn’t sure when it began. But he’s eighteen when he knows why they appeared and realizes that the memories in his head do not belong to his current lifetime.

They come to him through his dreams; sometimes long, sometimes short. At first, he thinks his mind is just playing games with him, but when he wakes up with an almost perfect recollection of whatever his older self in the dream did, he eventually realizes they aren’t simply dreams.

They’re his memories from another lifetime. Which one, he’s not sure. Wonwoo imagines they’re pieces of a puzzle–a very big one–making a bigger picture he doesn’t really understand at first until he does. Until it clicks one day why the dream has been getting longer and why he’s getting them in the first place.

He’s not himself when the dream happens, more like a shadow that watches from the sideline. He’s been seeing this older self of his for quite some time; he can’t be much older than he is now, probably in his mid twenties or so.

It was weird at the beginning, knowing how he’d look (looked?) in the future (...in the past? Fuck, this is confusing), but it was even weirder to watch himself with a girl that he seemed to be so very much in love with. Not that he can’t blame his other self. They’re soulmates, after all, if the identical marks on their wrists mean anything.

The word doesn’t even sound bitter in his lips anymore, and he wonders if it ever was.

Sure, he used to question why he’s an outlier and why he deserved to have no one when everyone else around him has someone predestined for them–someone that the universe deems just right and someone that will complement them in ways unimaginable.

He’s never angry though. Just a little lonely.

It’s not easy to be surrounded by people who are happy with their fate, who have someone that they know is their person for as long as eternity allows them to live. People are subtle with their pity when it comes to him and Wonwoo would like to think it probably has to do with the fact that Wonwoo doesn’t seem bothered at all.

Outliers aren’t that rare; perhaps one every one hundred people or so, and they’re not ostracized from society, just that they need to handle the pitiful looks every now and then–which never stops being annoying.

Wonwoo knows there’s a community for people like him though he has never been one to seek companies. He’s fine the way he is. He’d attend their gatherings when it’s one of the rare days he feels like being social, but he doesn’t attend enough to feel any kind of kinship towards them. They’re just some people who he somewhat sympathizes with.

Naturally, it means the community becomes a place where people try to find their romantic partner. After all, it is frowned upon if you try to date someone with a soulmate even if they haven’t met their other half.

…Which makes it awkward when they break up because even if the community isn’t very small, they’re still a minority and they need to stick together.

Hence, Wonwoo never really bothers.

It’s not like he’s into the concept of romance. When he was a kid, it simply didn’t appeal to him. During high school, games were more worthy of his time than anything. And during university… How could he when he’s been dreaming of the same girl over and over again? Any other romance potential simply didn’t register in his mind. His parents, who obviously had no idea about the dreams, tried to talk to him about it; to try dating and find love but quickly changed their insistence once they realized their son wasn’t too bothered himself.

He doesn’t even know if she’s alive in this lifetime, and yet…

“You’re really moving, huh?” Seungcheol brings him out of his mind, reminds him that he’s packing and he needs to get things done.

“They knew I’d be the one most willing to move away.” He shrugs. “Everyone else has their significant other here. Pretty sure they asked Namjoon first but with his pregnant wife and all–yeah.”

“I’m sure you’re still a choice because you’re competent.” The older guy reassures him. “What do you need me to do to help?”

“Help me throw away those bags in the living room, please.”

“Got it.”

Five minutes later, Seungcheol pops back into his bedroom.

“Are you throwing this away too?”

Wonwoo looks at the postcard in his hands, a look of recognition passes through his face before he takes it from him before he says he’s keeping it. The older guy throws him a curious look, but Wonwoo doesn’t offer any explanation so he leaves him be and returns to the living room.

“Autumn, huh.” He mutters to himself as he stares at the rows of yellow trees and ginkgo leaves adorning the ground on the postcard.

Autumn in the city is beautiful, Wonwoo has heard. He doesn’t know how it would be more beautiful there than here with the buildings and the busy lifestyle, but perhaps he’ll take the time to find out now that he’s moving there.

Maybe he’ll find out once he’s seen it himself.

And maybe…

Maybe he’ll also–

“Should we have some jjajangmyeon for lunch? I’m starving, man. Think I’d be able to eat two servings and an entire plate of dumplings. What about ordering some shrimp also? I think–”

Yeah.

Maybe.

Four months pass by in a blink and July comes around.

The city life is better than Wonwoo expected, but it’s not like he has any particular expectations to begin with. He’s a twenty six years old doing a regular job, living a regular life. He doesn’t have any grand plans in life, doesn’t strive to climb the corporate ladder nor make any difference in the world.

By theory, he should be some kind of a main character: an outlier with no soulmate mark and memories of a past life? Wonwoo would’ve written a book had he possessed any sort of literature gifts. But he can even barely express himself, let alone pour them into writings, so there goes his spotlight.

Plus, it’s not like he has ever told anyone about the memories. He tries looking things up online, and except for some ridiculous claims that were eventually proved to be false, he barely finds anything about it that would help. And if he could find nothing in the wonderful, vast world that is the internet, he doubts he would find answers in the real world.

So he’s just another guy. Another Jeon Wonwoo in the sea of people that would pass by people’s lives and lots would forget about.

And he doesn’t mind.

He really doesn’t.

But if there’s anything he could wish for…

He looks down at the small birthday cake his brother has ordered from the delivery app for him on behalf of his parents, the package greeting him in front of his door when he has just gotten back from work. He doesn’t really celebrate his birthdays, and usually only does so if the people around him encourage him to, namely Seungcheol and his family.

Though, now that he’s actually by himself in a city he’s still trying to get familiar with, it does feel a little lonely to be celebrating it alone, if you can even call it that. At least there’s a cake from his family and he might as well keep up with the tradition.

He lights up the ‘27’ candle and stares at it for a few seconds before he closes his eyes and makes a wish. A familiar smile he’s only seen in his dreams flashes through his mind, the warmth of the small fire blankets his face for a few seconds before it goes out.

I hope I can find you… whoever you are.

He dreams of another memory that night.

But, for the first time, he’s not watching from the sideline. The love of his life is pressed to his side as she urges him to blow the candle and make a wish. She takes his face while hers scrunch up into a smile, wishing him ‘happy birthday’ that he doesn’t think is the first that day before leaning in to kiss him on the lips.

He catches a glimpse of the single ginkgo leaf on her right wrist, the same exact thing on his left.

Wonwoo wakes up with a jolt before he could taste her lips against his, a thunderstorm outside his window and another inside his heart.

Despite being born in the season, Wonwoo isn’t fond of summer.

It’s too hot and there’s almost nothing he can do about it. He would’ve stayed inside 24/7 if he could, but that’s out of the question because he needs to go to the office and the amount of people in the public transportation is not something he looks forward to.

He doesn’t like winter for basically the same reason: it’s too fucking cold.

Spring and autumn are nice. But Wonwoo has a pollen allergy so he can’t enjoy the blooming season even if he wants to.

So if someone asks what his favorite season is, he always says autumn.

Wonwoo isn’t sentimental enough to actually have opinions about seasons. Like he said, he doesn’t like summer and winter because they’re extremely hot and cold respectively. He doesn’t mind spring but he has pollen allergies. And so he’s left with autumn.

It’s all just practical.

But, if there’s one season that actually means something… it’d also be autumn. And it doesn’t even have much to do with the actual season. It’s the memories it carries.

Yeah, that’s what he’ll call it.

Memories.

Because no matter what–

“Get going, will you?” Someone grumbles and goes past him.

Right, another reason why he hates summer. People get (rightfully) annoyed all the time and everyone wants to hang out near the Han river, him being one of them.

What can he do? He was already outside due to prior meetings, it’s hot, and being near the body of water sounds like a good idea if there’s any. He just happens to be in the area and he supposes why not. It’s been quite some time since he’s spent some time outside by himself, anyway.

At least he’s by himself so it’ll be much easier to find a seat. –Or so he assumes as he sighs, still trying to look for an empty spot to sit down ten minutes later. He doesn’t find any, if only because the only one-person spots available are surrounded by couples making googly eyes at each other.

Eventually, he finds one a little further away and settles there with his plastic bag filled with a canned highball and a bag of chips. It’s only somewhere after two in the afternoon, a weird time to be drinking alcohol, but he sighs blissfully at the first sip and stares mindlessly at the people around him.

He likes people watching, though he doesn’t make any grand scenarios about them in his head; simply thinks about how he’s only one of many in the sea of people. That he can be special but he chooses not to be. On the contrary, he likes to pretend that he’s normal; that he has a mark somewhere hidden on his body and he just simply hasn’t met his soulmate. That his dreams are simply dreams.

Or maybe they are nothing but dreams.

Maybe he’s simply thinking too much about them.

Maybe he’s just projecting the ideal life he’d have had he not been an outlier.

He blinks.

Why… had he not considered that before?

Sure, he feels too strongly about them (and Wonwoo isn’t even an emotional person) and is way too conscious because they feel real, but what if his head really is just messing with him? What if they really are just illusions and–

“Hey, sorry, do you mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is full and you’re the only one by yourself so…”

Wonwoo looks up at the weirdly familiar voice, freezing when he recognizes the person in front of him at once, the word coming out of his mouth before he even can stop himself.

“Autumn?”

Surprise colors your face at the name, your head empty because you honestly have no idea what to think. You don’t even have it in you to be suspecting, just very fascinated and somewhat nostalgic in the matter of seconds.

It’s been some time since someone calls you ‘Autumn’; the nickname that your late grandfather would always call you by because he said it’s his favorite season and you’re his sweetest grandchild. A few of your relatives adopted the name even though they outgrew it almost immediately after your grandfather passed. You’ve never told anyone outside the family about the nickname, not even your closest friends, as you’d like to keep it dear to your heart.

And it still stings to think about it after his passing ten years ago.

Several seconds–minutes?–pass like that, with you and this stranger looking at each other, mouth a little ajar, unsure what to say. But he breaks the silence first, shakes his head before he apologizes.

“Uh, sorry. You just–umm, uh, look like someone I know. You can sit down, sure.”

You nod and whisper a ‘thanks’, holding back the urge to ask him about his friend who apparently looks like you and shares your old nickname. But the silence that looms over you both is a little suffocating, and your usual extroverted self who never hesitates to talk to new people seems to die in front of him as you ponder if it’s okay to start a conversation with this handsome stranger.

Perhaps it’s just the weird interaction earlier, you think to yourself, the memory of your grandfather and your favorite nickname that no one except your family knows filling your chest with warmth. The last time you heard someone referred to you by that name was probably a decade ago, and to be referred to ‘Autumn’ again after so long… you wonder if you should’ve told someone about it if it inflicts this much fondness within you.

Or maybe it wouldn’t be so special if you had.

“So you have a friend who looks like me and is called ‘Autumn’, huh?” You try to maintain a confident smile, pray that you’re simply imagining the slight shake in your voice.

The stranger flinches a little, a gesture that you’re not sure what to make of, but then he nods and offers you an awkward smile. “Yeah, something like that.”

“You know, it used to be some sort of my nickname as a kid.” You’re not sure why you’re telling him this, but you are and it’s almost comical the way his lips open a little in surprise before he mutters a small ‘I see’. You offer your name to him, and thank him once again for letting you share his spot.

“Don’t mind it.” He smiles tightly before returning the gesture, and you can’t help but wonder why the name Jeon Wonwoo rings something in your head even though you’re sure you haven’t met this guy. You’re pretty good when it comes to remembering names and faces. You’ve never had any friends called Wonwoo, though you recall there were probably some people from your year in school and university who share his name.

Never a Jeon though. And he doesn’t look familiar at all, so you’re sure he’s not a friend of a friend that you might’ve seen in passing either, but… why does he feel familiar?

You shake your head before you let go of the thought, and then rummages through your bag to look for your drink. You take everything out of the way only to find your bottle lying sadly at the very bottom of your tote bag, when you look up again, you see Wonwoo glancing at the book you’ve put on the table.

On Soulmates: Love without Commitment

Xu Minghao

You hope the way you put everything back to your bag is subtle, like you’re not trying to hide the book you’ve been reading and the glimpse into your mind that people can easily decipher from your choice of literature alone. His face doesn’t tell you anything though, and it’s his next question that gets your heart beating in irregular beats.

“It’s quite the book, isn’t it?” He takes a sip from his can. “Gave me insights that I didn’t know I needed.”

“Right!” You reply with exaggerated enthusiasm. But can anyone blame you? Anyone who catches you reading that book always gives you the side eye, some people who are frontal even asked why you’re reading something that sounds as stupid as a flat earth. “I haven’t finished, but it’s so interesting to read why the author thinks soulmates aren’t it because it doesn’t give you a choice and everything about the relationship is a given. That perhaps the love that people who don’t have the soulmate marks might be purer because they choose to love and they put effort into it. I’m currently on chapter 7 and–”

You stop when you realize you’re rambling, words of apology on the top of your tongue when you see Wonwoo tilting his head in question. Not in judgement because you’re enthusiastic about it. Not in annoyance because you talk too much when it hasn’t even been twenty minutes since you’ve met him.

“Why are you stopping?” He asks, further making you speechless with the genuine interest in his voice. “Chapter 7 is about fate and destiny, isn’t it?”

You cough a little to hide your flustered face, a little too excited to finally find someone that isn’t against you reading this essay. You’ve been wanting to talk about it with someone–anyone–, all those hours you’ve spent on countless communities online with people who share the same sentiment as you not being enough.

“Yeah. I’m almost done with the chapter, though I haven’t been able to pick it up again these days.”

Wonwoo hums, seemingly deep in thought before he asks you again. “What do you think about it?”

“Fate and destiny?”

“Yeah.”

“I think it’s bullshit.”

He looks at you in surprise; whether it’s because of your choice of words or because of your opinion, you don’t know. But he doesn’t look like he’s going to jump at you for having such an opinion, so you continue even though he didn't ask you to.

“I’d hate to think that someone–something out there has enough power to decide what’s going to happen to us moving forward. That everything we do is predestined and that we have no choice whatsoever in life because it’s fated to be and it’s thanks to the universe that something happens a certain way.” And then you add, your voice comparably smaller as you suddenly realize you’re being too open with this stranger. “It feels… confining…”

He nods as he opens his bag of chips, putting it right in the middle as if telling you it’s okay to take some.

“I agree.” He doesn’t meet your eyes as he says this, looking straight over the Han river like he’ll find an actual answer there. “If it’s true, it’s very cruel for some people to know that their life is fated to be miserable and can do nothing but accept it.”

“Right? And, personally, I don’t know how I feel about the soulmates concept. You know how in the book it says that soulmates might take each other for granted because they’re meant to be together? Or that they simply accept the other person because, apparently, they’re their person? What if the universe messed up and you’re paired with a serial killer or something?”

Wonwoo looks at you alarmed, and you laugh before you say that you’re just speaking in general. He hesitates before he asks, unsure about where you actually are when it comes to soulmates. Are you this opinionated because you don’t have a soulmate? His heart skips a beat at the thought of it; or perhaps you simply hate the idea of it regardless. But before he can actually ask the question, his eyes fall to the side of your neck, and he notices the strings of flowers on the side of your neck, something that you also notice–so you clear your throat to dart his attention away.

“You feel… strongly about it, don’t you?” Wonwoo settles it at that, not wanting to offend you somehow. He doesn’t deny the mixed feeling in his heart as he realizes what it means. You have a soulmate. Even though there’s a chance that you don’t want them, you still have a soulmate and whatever feeling that’s brewing on the pit of his stomach, it’s not a good one.

What was he expecting, anyway? That if somehow he found you in this lifetime–which he did, what the fuck. It’s you who found him, even–you’d happily take him in your arms? The bitter taste on his mouth is getting worse by the seconds, only now realizing that even though he’s been wishing he’d find you, he never has any real plan about what to do if he actually did.

It helps that he doesn’t actually think he would, so he can hold on to it like a dream that would never come true. Something he holds dear in his heart but doesn’t really need to take responsibility for because it’s not going to happen. Something that somewhat keeps him going and some sort of wishful thinking.

You shrug, not offering any explanation.

He doesn’t press.

“I think.” He begins, looking at you this time, and if anyone ever asks, you’re going to deny the way your heartbeat picks up and up and up the more he looks into your eyes, your face getting hot like a high school girl with a crush. “You can always go against your destiny if that’s what you choose to do. If fate and destiny actually exist, who is there to say that what the universe has decided for you is your best path? Perhaps it’s just one of many and you can try taking another road to see if you’ll like it more. Even if they exist, it doesn’t mean you have to follow them all the time.”

You lay in bed thinking about his words that night, wondering if it’s as easy as he makes it to be to get away from your path and try a new one.

You dream of Wonwoo, a birthday cake, and a ginkgo leaf mark that you’re sure was not on Wonwoo’s wrist when you saw him earlier that day.

You wake up wishing you’ll meet him again.

Joshua, you’ve always known, is the ideal partner that anyone could ask for. He’s sweet, he takes care of you well, is respectful, and you honestly feel bad for not returning even half of what he feels for you.

You love him, you really do, but you don’t think what you feel for him is strong enough to be considered in the same league with the love that people believe soulmates should have for each other. It’s nowhere near there.

You love him, he’s very important to you, and you’ll drop anything for him if he needs you. But you know something’s wrong when Joshua starts talking about living together, marriage, and family, and dread is the only thing that fills your chest.

You know something’s wrong when you don’t feel the butterfly nor the fireworks that everyone–and you mean everyone–says they experience when they meet their soulmates.

It was nothing like that for you; you knew he’s your soulmate, and if there’s anything right about what people said regarding your first meeting, it’s true that it just clicked that it’s your soulmate in front of you. But your heartbeat picked up for all the wrong reasons that didn’t have anything to do with rush of excitement nor romantic expectation. You were a little anxious, even, but you couldn’t do anything when Joshua immediately recognized the feeling once his eyes met yours and he ran to you like he’d give you the world right that very second.

There was nothing magical about it.

You’re not sure how you feel either about the universe giving you the perfect partner by theory, but also somehow shaping you into a person that believes the whole soulmate thing is bullshit. It doesn’t seem to matter whether Joshua notices your lack of romantic reciprocation or not, because Joshua still treats you like you’re the love of his life and he looks at you like you’re his whole galaxy.

Or perhaps he mistakes the way you care for him as romance?

What a fucking drama you live in.

“What got you thinking?” You blink at his voice, and Joshua looks at you amused as he settles right beside you despite the heaps of empty space on your sofa. “You’ve been zoning out a lot these days.”

“Have I?” You ask, accepting the way his arm automatically goes behind you on top of the sofa head. You like his warmth, you really do. You like–no–you admit that you love a lot of things about Joshua and you’re glad you met him even though you absolutely abhor the soulmate system.

You love his eyes, the way they seem to stare into your soul and are able to tell what’s inside your mind most of the time.

You love his hands, they always know to wrap around yours when you need it most, pull you closer when you stray away because something distracts you along the way.

You love his voice, so calm and soothing that you would ask him to talk you to sleep through the phone on nights sleep refuses to find you, the way he’ll hum when he’s in a good mood though he never actually sings in front of you because he says he can’t carry an actual tune otherwise. (Two years since you’ve found each other and you’re still on a mission to make him sing because you just knew he sings well.)

But, most of all, you love the way he treats you.

The way he’ll ask if he’s not sure what you want him to do, the way he’ll carefully thread through your mood when the day hasn’t been good, and the way he gives you space even if he wants to be near you all the time.

He respects you. Not only as his soulmate but also as a person, and you can’t thank him enough for that.

Perhaps that’s why it hurts much more now; why guilt is eating you inside out because you can only think about Wonwoo and his words when Joshua is right next to you, his thigh pressed against yours and his thumb caressing your shoulder over your shirt.

If fate and destiny actually exist, who is there to say that what the universe has decided for you is your best path?

You force back the tears before they can actually form, gulping before you tell him it’s nothing.

“Should we go out?”

“Where?”

“Hmmm. Namsan? We can take a walk, get you off your mind.” His smile is kind, and you feel like crying again because of how considerate Joshua is. He doesn’t even ask, doesn’t push even once just in case you’ll crack. He simply accepts that you don’t want to talk about it and offers you something that might help.

Why the fuck aren’t you in love with him when he’s your soulmate and he’s as perfect as someone could be?

His arms envelop you and thrust you into his chest before you could break, and you manage to hold it for three full seconds before the tears stubbornly fall and you whimper softly into his hold. Joshua doesn't say anything, doesn’t hush you and asks if you’re okay.

No.

He accepts that you’re not okay and you don’t want to tell him about it. That you’re crying and he feel so fucking useless because he can’t do anything to help you with it.

That you’re hiding something from him that’s possibly making you cry even though you never did before.

Still, he holds you close and lets you cry.

You grasp the front of his shirt as you try your best to stop your tears. You don’t even know why you’re crying this much, but you suppose between the stressful week and the whole Wonwoo situation, the guilt combined with Joshua’s innocent look trigger something within you.

“I’ll just get you some water.” He whispers against your head once you’ve calmed down, squeezes your shoulder and then lets you go. He’s back not even a minute later, and you thank him as you take your mug, embarrassed when you wipe the remaining of your tears off your face. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” You manage to whisper, too embarrassed to even look him in the eyes.

His smile is meant to be comforting, but thinking yet again about the reason why you even cried to begin with, it only makes your heart squeezes painfully.

“You probably need it. You know I won’t judge.” He caresses your cheek as if to make sure to get rid of all traces of tears there. He searches for your face, as if he can tell what’s inside your mind just by doing so, and for a moment, you’re afraid that he really can; that he’ll see the man that you’ve met once some time last week clouding your mind like there’s no tomorrow. “Do you want to go for a walk anyway? Perhaps you need to get out of the house for a bit?”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” You reach up to circle your fingers around his wrist, smiling back at him because despite everything, you’re still thankful that the universe thinks you’re deserving of someone like him. You’re still thankful that you get to be on the receiving end of his affection.

Joshua leans forward to kiss your forehead, lingering for a good few seconds before he tells you to get ready.

It doesn’t take you too long to get ready, nor does it take long for you two to arrive at Namsan. Climbing the stairs to get to the park, Joshua asks instead if you’re willing to just go further up to get to the peak where the tower is. You’re not exactly dressed for climbing (though it’s really just stairs, stairs, and more stairs), nor are you in the mood for it, but you think exhausting your body is just what you might just need so you can pass out the moment you reach your bed later on.

He extends his hand, and you take it with a smile despite the pinch in your heart. You spend the first ten minutes in silence, hand in hand as you ascend up the seemingly never-ending stairs.

Already out of breath, you begin to doubt your decision of climbing up when Joshua speaks.

“I haven’t gone here in so long.” Undeniably, it’s a very nice weather out. You being out of breath has more to do with your lack of exercise on a daily basis more than anything, but even in your predicament you can still appreciate the night view around you. As much as you feel like dying right now, you know you don’t actually regret it.

“Yeah? Me too.” You grip his hand tighter for support, then ask if you could rest for a bit when you see a rest stop. Joshua laughs as you ask this, though he nods and hands you a piece of chocolate the moment you both sit down on an empty bench overlooking Seoul from where you’re at.

“You’re a lifesaver.” You moan as you take a bite of the chocolate, leaning your head on his shoulder and stretching your legs. “I haven’t climbed in so long. My legs will fall tomorrow, I’m sure.”

“I’ll run a bath for you before I go home tonight.”

You try to trample the way your heartbeat picks up; not because you’re fluttered, but because you’re once again eaten with guilt by how perfect Joshua really is. He doesn’t exactly know how you feel about soulmates; you’re not cruel enough to say things right to his face.

But you know for sure that he’s aware of your choice of literature.

He doesn’t comment on them, and you try not to read them when he’s around. But he once caught you reading on your phone over your shoulder and you sheepishly said you simply find those essays interesting.

Joshua isn’t stupid, knows that there’s a reason why you find them interesting, but he chooses to be in ignorant bliss and says you’re free to read whatever you want and there’s no need to justify yourself to him of all people.

Yeah, because it’s totally normal that your soulmate is interested in reading essays on why soulmates are bullshits.

Forty minutes later with some short breaks along the way, you finally reach the top. There aren’t as many people, and you walk around for a bit to let your legs relax before finding yet another bench to sit on.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been here at night.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm. Sure is different from being here during the day.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Joshua agrees, his palm absentmindedly caresses your thigh as if it helps relieve your sore muscle.

“Should we have some cup ramyeons?” You suggest, pointing to the convenience store you pass by earlier. “I think I can do some if I share with you.”

Joshua nods, but before he can offer to go, you tell him he can rest instead.

“I’ll go get it. Should I buy two or are you fine just sharing one with me?”

“Two is fine.”

“And the usual drink?”

“And the usual drink.” He grins. “You sure you can take everything by yourself?”

You roll your eyes in mock annoyance, exhaling a ‘duh’ as you tell him to just wait.

Pleased that the convenience store isn’t crowded either, you hum as you go through the snack isles instead. Knowing yourself, you’ll probably only eat two thirds of the cup ramyeon and wolf down the snack instead if you buy some; but you don’t see why not because Joshua’s there to finish your food anyway. Plus, it’s a nice night out and that’s enough to justify your choice of dinner.

Juggling two big cups of instant noodles, a packet of cheese, a hotbar, and a bag of shrimp chips isn’t your talent, but you manage and you drop them on the cashier before quickly telling the cashier you’re just going to grab a drink real quick.

Almost bumping into the person behind you, your apology is stuck in your throat once you realize who’s the person exactly.

What the fuck.

“Oh…” Wonwoo says in surprise, the words seemingly out of his mouth before he even realizes. “Hi…?”

You give him an awkward smile and nod before quickly going to the drink aisle. Apologizing once again to the cashier who’s still scanning your purchase (and to Wonwoo) once you return even though it’s barely been five seconds.

“Need help?” Wonwoo says good-naturedly, gesturing to the amount of things you’ve just bought.

“Hey, I–”

Wonwoo looks at you staring between him and the guy who has just entered. Getting the hints immediately that his help isn’t needed, he smiles before paying for his stuff and leaves the convenience store.

He looks spitefully at the night sky, it’s so unnecessarily pretty too, unsure if he wants to curse whatever’s up there that of all days he decides to go outside, he just has to see you again. With another guy at that. He doesn’t want to jump to conclusions. The guy could simply be your friend for all he knew.

But if there’s one thing that is Wonwoo, he’s quick to put pieces together. From your panicked glance and the way you tense when you see him, he knows. Perhaps it’s also just intuition. But he just knew that man, whoever he is, is the one that heaven has decided to be the one for you.

He exhales a deep breath before finding a secluded place somewhere behind a tree, carefully hidden to minimize any chance of being seen by you (or seeing you with your soulmate). He would’ve immediately left if he could, but he’s only arrived and it feels like it’s such a waste for him to leave just like that despite the situation.

What even is the situation?

He’s been thinking a lot since he met you, if he wants to seek you out again and what he wants to do if he does. The thought is no longer so much of a wishful thinking like it used to be. He knows you exist now. You’re actually living, you’re real, and you have a soulmate that is not him.

It sounds so much like an exaggeration, but he’s never felt so empty after going home that night, thinking about you and your soulmate. Do you live together? Do you care about him regardless of your stance on the whole soulmate thing? Does he treat you well? Does he get to hold you while you sleep? Does he–Fuck.

Wonwoo hates being like this, and he’d love to say it’s gotten better the more time passes by, but it has only gotten even worse because his dream is getting longer and even more prominent since meeting you. And what he hates most is he’s started to feel more and more strongly about you even through his dreams.

What is one supposed to do when they fall in love with an illusion that has a counterpart living in the realm of reality? He’s pretty sure no one would have the answer.

He glances up at the sound of faint laughter, seemingly so loud in the silent night, or perhaps he simply picks it up because he knows exactly who it belongs to before he even sees you. He bites his lip at the scene he’s witnessing: you, laughing with your soulmate at god knows what.

He can’t blame the guy for looking at you like you hold the universe for him. After all, Wonwoo would probably do exactly the same thing had he been given the chance. His past self from another life could vouch for that.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, he’s not sure, you end up sitting a good distance away from where he’s at, your back facing him as you settle beside the man destined to be with you. You’re not too far that he can’t see your side profile, which gets his heart both squeezing in pain and fluttering at the same time.

He doesn’t even know that was possible.

Wonwoo looks far to the distance, at the endless night sky that’s so unnecessarily full of stars today of all day. He wants to think the universe is mocking him, playing a joke on him for being alone by himself on such a beautiful night, making him watch you laughing with your soulmate as the cherry on top.

But he knows he’s not that special.

He’s just one of many; his misery wouldn’t be all that amusing for the universe.

Scoffing at the thought of the universe, he lowers his eyes from the sky only to accidentally meet yours.

Is this the work of the universe too?

Nah, he shouldn’t give too much credit to the damn thing. But, then again, blaming it for every single thing that went wrong in his life has proved to be some kind of comfort if he’s being completely honest.

You offer him a small smile anyway, not even waiting for him to return the gesture.

It hurts still to see you with your soulmate, sharing food and talking about what he assumes to be nothing and everything. But as he lays in bed that night and thinks about your smile, he admits that if the universe lets him meet you in this lifetime, perhaps it isn’t so bad, after all.

Wonwoo has always liked the number three.

Third’s time the charm and all that jazz. He doesn’t hold on to it religiously, just some fun little routine that he finds amusing. When he takes an item in a grocery store, he takes the third one from the front; when he goes to the convenience store because he needs one (1) thing, he takes two small snacks so it’s three items in total; on the rare days when Wonwoo feels like trying a new drink in a cafe, he’d just choose the third item in the menu.

It’s fun.

Today, Wonwoo’s supposed to meet Mingyu for a little get together. He’s the first friend he’s made in Seoul, a guy that’s a little too flashy for his liking but is still a good person nevertheless and definitely a much better company than most people that he’s made to be acquainted with in the new city.

He’s not too excited about the invitation, but doesn’t see why he should turn the younger guy down when he has no plan during the weekend, and, as much as he loves staying inside, the four walls of his apartment is starting to feel a little suffocating because it’s almost been a month since that night he randomly went to Namsan and saw you, and… he hasn’t gone out for anything that’s not a necessity since then.

So when Mingyu asks for the third time since they got to know each other if he wants to join him on a night out or not, he decides he should also appreciate the guy’s persistence despite already being turned down twice before.

Anyway.

He was supposed to meet him for a little get together. Apparently, Mingyu’s version of ‘a little get together’ is to invite a group of friends that Wonwoo obviously doesn’t know for dinner and only notifying him of the additional party thirty minutes before their promised time.

He exhales. It’s too late for him to bail. Right now, his hope is only as high as the ground: he simply wishes he wouldn’t return home socially exhausted.

It’s a small pizza diner inside an alleyway where they promised to meet. And Mingyu along with his friends thankfully arrive at the same time as him so Wonwoo wouldn’t need to go inside and look around like a fool, wondering where his table full of strangers and a slightly familiar friend is.

He’s not close enough with Mingyu to say he’s comfortable around him, but he’s still the most familiar face between the four faces in front of him so he decides sitting next to Mingyu is the best choice. Thankfully, the younger guy doesn’t seem to be the type to push him to interact with new people immediately.

Thirty minutes into dinner, Wonwoo can tell Mingyu probably brings these friends around because he thinks Wonwoo needs to meet new people (or maybe he thinks it’ll be awkward if it’s just the two of them?). It’s easy to tell that he’s brought the friendliest people who’s just loud enough, who understand that Wonwoo’s quiet but still able to naturally included him in conversations without making him feel bad about being, well, quiet (god knows how many people have tried to make him feel bad for staying quiet during conversations).

Jungkook is a friend from high school, he’s learned, apparently one of Mingyu’s closest friends. Jeonghan is a senior from his previous company; someone that he didn’t know he’d end up being close with because, at first, Jeonghan was obviously just someone he had to work together with. Jisoo, he finds out later on, is Jungkook’s ex-girlfriend before he found his soulmate, though they treasure their friendship too much to cut each other off.

Except for Jungkook, the other two friends seem a little unconventional and Wonwoo doesn’t understand how Mingyu ends up being close enough with them to go out together like this.

He doesn’t ask.

“We’re planning on bar hopping.” Mingyu tells him, and Wonwoo feels dread fill his chest at what this might imply until Mingyu adds, “You’re free to leave if you don’t want to go with us though! I understand it might not be everyone’s thing.”

Weirdly, Wonwoo now wants to go because he’s been given the freedom of choice. Plus, at least he knows he’d be surrounded by these people and he can go home at any time if he wants to.

“What kind of bar?”

“Definitely not clubs pretending to be a bar.” Mingyu jokes. “Maybe wine or cocktail bars?”

“Sure, I’ll come then.” Wonwoo shrugs, then tells Mingyu he’ll probably return home first if he and his friends are planning to go until morning, to which Mingyu nods and says that it’s no problem at all.

Wonwoo doesn’t really understand the concept of bar hopping. He’s always been curious about it, but never curious enough to actually do it. So he supposes it’s also his curiosity that pushes him to say yes. He kind of wants to see what it’s all about and he doesn’t think he’d have another opportunity where he might remotely enjoy the experience if not now.

The first cocktail bar isn’t that great, if only because the place is small and it feels like everyone can hear what they’re talking about. They each have one drink and immediately leave for the next one. They go to a wine bar, and Wonwoo is pleased to know the alcohol in his system (and the current company, he’s sure) has made him more relaxed than he had been the past week.

After an hour or so, Mingyu decides he’s had too much energy and asks if it’s okay to move to an open bar that’s not as noisy as a club but is still noisy enough for people to enjoy the music and fill the dancing floor.

Normally, Wonwoo would say no. But he surprisingly still has enough social battery and thinks might as well go all out while he’s at it. It’s not often that he’s in a social mood.

The bar is a little too noisy for Wonwoo’s liking, though the half part of the building has no roof so it’s not too loud nor suffocating. After ordering their drinks, Mingyu and Jungkook head to the dance floor. Jisoo and Jeonghan stay at the table with him; Jisoo says she’s not really in the mood to dance while Jeonghan says his soulmate is picking him up in a bit so he’s just going to stick around til then.

It’s thirty minutes later that he leaves and Wonwoo’s now left alone with Jisoo. It’s not uncomfortable, but it is a little awkward and Jisoo seems to share the sentiment as she tries to find topics to talk about.

They end up talking about literature and movies, and Wonwoo has to lean forward to be able to listen to her clearly over the music until she eventually moves to sit next to him so they can talk easier. He notices Jungkook glancing every now and then, and when Jisoo follows his gaze, she chuckles a little and shakes her head.

“Sorry. It’s just a habit of his, don’t mind him.”

Wonwoo blinks, unsure. “Why are you apologizing?”

“I know a lot of people find his stares uncomfortable.” She shrugs. “He’s just protective of me. It’s nothing, I promise.”

Wonwoo’s not nosy. But between the alcohol in his system, his remote curiosity, and the way Jisoo looks like she wants to talk about it, he kindly throws the bait.

A subtle one, though.

“How did you end up being close with Mingyu?”

“Through Kook, at first.” Mingyu and Jeonghan don’t refer to Jungkook with that name, he notes. And a part of him wonders if it’s a nickname that Jisoo has for him or if it’s just how his girl friends call him. “We dated before. But we broke up because, well, he found his soulmate and… Mingyu was kind enough to keep me company and made sure I was okay after the whole ordeal. I’m not sure why he felt the need to do that, but I’m thankful regardless. So… yeah.”

He bites the question about soulmates. Doesn’t ask why they tried dating each other if they knew they aren’t soulmates, but he does wonder about how she must’ve felt or how she’s feeling right now. He can’t exactly compare his situation with hers, because as much as he’s going through a… heartbreak, it’s somewhat onesided while Jisoo actually had a relationship with Jungkook.

And she still has to be friends with him.

He doesn’t know if it’s the universe or Jungkook that is cruel.

Or perhaps Jisoo is a masochist.

Apparently, she’s also very honest when she’s tipsy.

“I’m an outlier.” She smiles bitterly after downing a shot, then she pulls up the sleeve of her cardigan and shows him what he assumes to be a trace of a soulmate mark; a faint outline of a snowflake that’s barely visible unless you actually take a look at her wrist. “I hav–had a soulmate. They died before I even met them and that’s why the mark… burned.”

Her chuckle is nowhere near amused when Wonwoo’s eyes widen in surprise, and she answers before he even asks as she pulls down the sleeve of her cardigan.

“It literally burned. I was sixteen; and I was out with Jungkook getting ice cream when it started to burn and he had to witness me being all hysterical, crying as I told him my wrist burnt and it felt like it’s going to fall off.” She doesn’t look bitter at all as she talks about this, just very sad and perhaps even a tad bit nostalgic. “He was fourteen. A little shorter than I was at that point, but he tried his best to tug me to a secluded place so people wouldn’t stare despite my struggle because everything hurt and I just felt like crying, hugged me to muffle my scream, and stayed with me for hours after that even though I was just zoning out, not saying anything.”

Wonwoo isn’t sure if it’s a story for him to hear; but Jisoo looks like she needs it (or is it just the alcohol?) and the least he could do is to listen. At least he can rest easy knowing this story wouldn’t be going anywhere else.

“I knew what happened even though I didn’t know by theory. I could feel it; felt the connection that was only faintly there just… gone. Jungkook took me home and told my parents about what happened. Of course they knew what it meant and they thanked him before sending him home. I couldn’t really talk for weeks, the emptiness and the burn were too prominent for me to be doing anything. My parents told the school I was sick so I was dismissed from classes.”

She pauses, and for the first time, Wonwoo can tell exactly what she’s feeling: she’s numb and she’s exhausted. There’s no trace of tears in her eyes. They’re void of anything and Wonwoo suddenly feels an odd sense of affinity the more he listens to her.

“Jungkook… stopped by everyday even though he didn’t know what actually happened. He probably had an idea, but he didn’t press and he talked to me about anything and everything even if I didn’t say anything–said from the beginning that I didn’t need to answer, that he’d do all the talking for me.”

Wonwoo doesn’t need to listen to the rest of the story to know why Jisoo still treasures Jungkook as…, well, whatever she regards him as right now. He doesn’t want her to talk about more sad things like how she ended up dating him and how she broke up with him, so he offers her what he could: honesty and a change of topic.

Even if it’s only a little.

“I’m an outlier also.” He says quietly that Jisoo almost misses it. “Doesn’t have a soulmate but… it’s complicated.”

Thankfully, Jisoo doesn’t pry, simply takes another shot and offers a cheer to him.

“Sucks to be us.”

It’s weird, but Wonwoo finds himself chuckling before he takes his own drink and clinks his glass to hers and takes a sip of his highball.

“Sucks to be us.”

His mind wanders to you, thinking if he could stand being in Jisoo’s place had it been like that for him. He had only seen you with your soulmate from afar, had only talked to you once, and it hurts anyway.

Why is he cursed with the memories of his previous life, again?

He’s been mentally restless since that night. How could he not when he keeps on seeing you everywhere? His dreams are getting more and more prominent and so are his feelings. He keeps on thinking he sees you somewhere–everywhere–only to realize it’s not you, just ghosts of you haunting him in every person that he sees.

How fucking stupid, falling in love with a series of images and illusions.

Drinking the rest of his drink, he shakes his head and winces at the alcohol and at how his mind is playing tricks once again. Perhaps drinking alcohol hasn’t been the best option if he ends up imagining you even here between the blurry images of people.

Fuck, he’s down bad.

In such perfect timing, Mingyu and Jungkook return to the table, so Wonwoo leaves Jisoo with them and excuses himself to the restroom. He looks at himself in the mirror, and then looks at his phone only to realize it’s already almost one in the morning. Perhaps it’s time he goes home; the talk he’s shared with Jisoo proves to be more mentally exhausting than he thinks it is.

He almost bumps into someone on his way out, hands reaching out to the person in front of him in reflex only to let go just as quick once he sees your face once again. Christ, is he that drunk? He really needs to go home.

That version of you is very pretty too, fuck.

“Uh… Wonwoo?” He’s even imagining your voice now? “Are you… okay?”

He looks up in alarm once he realizes you’re real. It’s actually you in front of him and you’re not a figment of his imagination. He opens his mouth to say something, but someone bumps into you hard and you tumble into his chest.

Wonwoo’s breath is caught in his throat at the turn of events, but his arm catches you anyway and glares at the guy before he looks down and asks if you’re okay. You look as flustered as he’s feeling, and he hopes the loud music is enough to cover the sound of his heartbeat.

“You’re okay?” It’s stupid how disappointment fills his chest the moment you step away, a sense of longing already making its way to his heart.

He needs to get away.

“I—yeah.” You look unsure and Wonwoo doesn’t like how your body screams uneasiness.

“Are you by yourself?”

“No?” Now you sound unsure, and even though Wonwoo is also another stranger in the sea of strangers, he thinks he trusts himself better than any other people here to help you if you don’t want to be here. “Well, I was with my friend but she… yeah.”

You’re biting your lip, as if afraid he’d scold you (Why would he? He’s not your boyfriend (Wait. No. Back pedal, back pedal)). Fuck, fuck, fuck. He swallows hard to calm himself down; this is not the time to imagine what it’d be like to be your boyfriend.

“Come on.” He says as calmly as possible, his fingers balled into a fist to stop himself from taking your hand in his. He considers bringing you to his table, but he doesn’t know how he should introduce you to his party so he quickly texts Mingyu he’s going home because something turns up before he leads you out of the club.

It’s silence filling you two despite the somewhat noisy alley you’re walking through, and you don’t know Wonwoo enough to be able to tell if he’s pissed or what; but he does seem tense and you’re the one uncomfortable with the unnerving silence.

“I’m–I’m sorry.” You try to open a conversation. Wonwoo stops in his tracks and turns to you in confusion. “You were probably there to have fun or something… Sorry I made you get me out of there.”

He shakes his head, and your heart relaxes when he smiles a little. “It’s fine. About time I go back anyway. Do you mind if we stop by a convenience store for a bit?”

It’s then that you realize you’ve been blindly following him. You don’t even know the guy. You’ve met him twice before, and your second meeting barely even lasts five minutes, yet you readily follow him because you know you’ll be more comfortable with him than there–more safe, more… secure.

Fuck, you didn’t even ask him where he’s taking you earlier. It was almost automatic the way you followed his steps. You try to convince yourself that it’s his familiarity that makes you feel safe. Because even if you don’t know him that well, his face is still one imprinted in your head so it’s normal that you’d feel safer than you would with any other person in that club.

Plus, you’ve talked to him once before and he at least passed the vibe check, right?

But as you pile these thoughts in your head, trying to justify the uncalled feeling of security this stranger brings you, deep down you know why exactly your anxiety seeps away at the sight of him earlier, why your shoulders drop down in relief, and why your chest is no longer filled with dread.

“Here, have this.”

That’s why. You think to yourself.

Wonwoo isn’t smiling at you, but there’s a kind of warmth that he radiates as he hands you a drink and ushers you to sit on the table in front of the convenience store. There’s a certain warmth that reaches you as he sits in front of you and places a hot bun on the table, pushes it towards you without saying anything.

You watch him slot his hands into the pocket of his jackets, and you suddenly wonder if he gets cold easily. It’s not that cold outside, though you suppose it is one in the morning and the wind picks up a little at times like this.

“Thanks.” You mumble as you wrap your fingers around the small bottle of warm honey water. You can’t help but smile at the drink of his choice, a little funny how he didn’t get you a hot chocolate or tea; something most people would usually get. “Can I ask why honey?”

He blinks, as if not getting what you’re talking about until you hold up the glass bottle for him to see.

Wonwoo panics a little. He has bought the drink without thinking, a part of his mind that stores the information about you from his dream making him do so. In fact, it was only yesterday that he dreamt of you drinking one.

The dream is still vivid in his mind. He dreamt of you sleeping, and he assumed he was trying to sleep himself when you jolted awake out of nowhere, eyes frantic and hands flailing around looking for him. He saw himself whispering words of comfort to you, and he saw you burying yourself into him like there’s any space between the two of you before he pulled away and said he’d get you some drink from the kitchen.

You had smiled weakly at the sight of your favorite drink, a warm honey water that always comforted you at nights like this.

“Do you not like it? I can get you something else if you want?”

“No, it’s fine.” You smile, something inside you blooming dangerously at his words and what you may or may not be implying with yours. “Just… I usually drink those too. Some of my friends judge me for that.”

He’s more surprised about the fact that you share this with your past self more than anything, but, still, he asks. “Huh? Why?”

“Just because it’s unusual, I suppose.” Shrugging, you proceed to open the lid and take a sip. “Not a lot of people drink this, you know? Or, at least, they drink it cold. I prefer it warm.”

He wonders if you share anything else with your past self. So far, there’s been two: Autumn and this drink. Would you be suspicious if he threw it out there? Would you freak out?

“Someone I know eats watermelon only if it’s frozen; I’m sure it's just a preference on your part.”

You smile shyly as you answer him, an image that’s forever burned into his mind. “I do that also.”

His mind runs a thousand hundred scenarios of what this could mean, wonders if it’s simply a coincidence or if the universe is on to something.

“Aren’t you special,” he smiles tightly, hoping that you don’t catch upon his awkwardness.

“Thank you for putting it that way.” The sound of your laughter makes him want to be selfish; to drag out conversations and spend as much time as possible with you even though he knows you have a soulmate. Is it considered cheating like this? Is he immoral for wanting this? “My friends also judge me because I don’t like cheese cake, cheese sauce and anything cheese flavored even though I don’t mind an actual cheese.”

“You… don’t like cheese cake?” Wonwoo blinked, unsure if he heard right. He wasn’t a cheese lover or anything, but he didn’t think he’d ever seen anyone who grimaced at the word ‘cheese cake’.

“They’re too… cheesy.”

“Autumn, it’s called cheese cake for a reason.”

“And the texture… yuck.” You grimaced before telling him to stop talking about it before you lose your appetite.

“Are you judging me too?” Your voice snaps him out of his gaze, and he blinks a few times before he shakes his head no. This can’t be good, fuck. It’s been less than 10 minutes since he’s been talking to you, and yet his heartbeat is out of control and the fact that you share a lot of things with the illusion of yourself that he’s developed an attachment for isn’t good at all.

He tries his best to remind himself that his feeling isn’t real; that perhaps he’s too blinded by something that he’s been holding on to and he doesn’t know what to do now that it’s somewhat changing. That he’s confused and he shouldn’t do anything that would cause him further confusion.

But with you in front of him, as real as you can be, smiling and launching into a bunch of topics that is actually dear to his heart, he can’t help but indulge his feelings and bask in your presence, in your smile and your voice, in the sound of your laughter and the way you lean forward so you can speak to him better, a habit that he notices the you in his dream also had.

So he lets go.

Whatever consequence that awaits him, he’ll face it when it comes. Right now, he just wants to pretend like you don’t have a soulmate who’s probably waiting for you back home–who may be worried sick because you haven’t looked at your phone even once since the moment he sits down in front of you.

Wonwoo isn’t usually selfish and he hopes that the universe will let him go this one time for wanting to be–for wanting to keep you to himself even for a limited time. Even if you aren’t aware of it.

This chance might not come again, he tells himself. The chance of talking to you under the stars in front of a random convenience store at ungodly hours, like you’re just two people talking to each other–like soulmates isn’t a thing and he’s free to feel whatever it is he’s feeling.

He wants this, he realizes as his eyes flicker down to your lips for a few seconds, subtle enough for you to miss. He wants a real memory of you. Something real that he can keep to his heart, something that isn’t a part of his dream and a fragment of his memories. And even though he’d go home feeling empty and he’d curse himself tomorrow, it doesn’t matter because what matters now is that you’re here with him and he’s going to take as much as you’re willing to give him.

“I’ve finished reading the book, by the way.” You open another topic. A controversial one, if you may say so yourself, and you know deep down what you’re trying to do by saying this even though you’ll deny it if anyone asks.

“Oh yeah? How do you find it?”

“I think I agree with most of what he said.” You bite your lip, your mind wandering to Joshua for the first time since you saw Wonwoo. “I just… I don’t know. I’m not anti soulmate, I just don’t see why you should succumb to your… instincts? Feelings? And simply accept your soulmate without thinking too much about it.”

Wonwoo doesn’t say anything for a moment and you wonder if he disagrees with you or if he’s simply gathering his thoughts. He seems thoughtful, perhaps trying to find words that won’t offend you before he offers you his opinion.

“Can I ask why you started thinking that way?” he asks instead, and it’s your turn to be silent and arrange your words.

Because you don’t know.

You can’t tell since when do you feel this strongly about the soulmate situation. You used to be quite indifferent about it, not having any opinion whatsoever though you sure weren’t as excited as the other kids your age when it came to romanticizing anything about soulmates.

Your friends would talk about their dream scenarios of the first meeting with their soulmates, or they would go on and on about looking forward to meeting them.

But you were never that excited.

It was just another thing in your life: like eating ice cream or trying out a new cafe. There’s nothing so special about it.

“I think…” You contemplate, wondering if you want to be that honest with this beautiful, familiar stranger in front of you. “It was when I met my soulmate?”

Wonwoo seems surprised, probably not sure how to interpret your words and you don’t blame him at all.

“Sorry?”

“You know how people say that there are… fireworks? And butterflies? Just those big, grandiose feelings blooming inside your chest at once when you meet your soulmate?” He nods, trying to see where you’re going with this. “Well, I… didn’t feel those when I met mine. Sure, it all made sense and it just kinda… clicked in my head. Like a moment of eureka, if you will. But I wasn’t… excited or anything of the sort. If anything, my heartbeat picked up because I was anxious, already worried about what he might expect of me and all that.”

You refuse to look at Wonwoo. You’re not sure what kind of answer that you expect from him, but he doesn’t seem like he’d judge and, between the ungodly hour and the little alcohol that’s left in your system, it feels relieving to finally be able to say this out loud.

You’ve never been able to. Not only because people would call you crazy, but because you know no one wouldn’t not judge you for it.

But here in front of Wonwoo… Jeon Wonwoo who you’ve only met for the third time in your life, you feel safe for reasons that you can’t comprehend.

So you continue. You’ll blame it on the alcohol tomorrow morning, even though you know you’re not intoxicated enough for it to be the case. You’ll justify yourself by saying Wonwoo isn’t a friend and he knows no one in your life–that if this goes south, you technically wouldn’t lose anything.

Yeah.

That’s how you’ll go down this road.

“I mean… I love him, you know?” You would’ve seen Wonwoo’s face drop had you not been busy staring at your nails, still too afraid to look at him despite the resolve you’ve made. “But not… that way.”

“Like… platonic?” Wonwoo offers, careful.

“Yeah…” You bite your lip, trying to stop the tears that suddenly blur your eyes. “Like platonic.”

You hate yourself for the way your heart lightens at your own words. Because even though it’s something that you’ve thought of once before, you bury it so deep somewhere you can’t reach. You never say it out loud to anyone; never admit it to yourself even though you know it’s true.

And to say it like this to another person–out in the open… You hate yourself so fucking much because it’s true and you’re somehow going to hurt Joshua even if you don’t mean to.

Wonwoo panics at the sight of your tears, at the way your lips tremble and the way he’s sure your nails are digging into your palms. He doesn’t know what to do, unsure about what he can do because you’re…, he winces as he thinks to himself, not even a friend.

What is the appropriate distance he needs to keep? Is he even allowed to comfort you? He can’t even be relieved at your revelation because you’re obviously not fine and there’s something churning at the pit of his guts the longer he sees you try to stop yourself from crying.

It’s when a sob eventually escapes your lips that he stops thinking. Because how can he stand still when you’re there crying like you’re admitting a crime worthy of a death sentence? When you can’t even lift your head because you’re trying so damn hard to hide your face and your tears?

He hears you gasp when he wraps his arms around you, something that he wishes you’re okay with, and if there’s anything Wonwoo would describe as magical, it’s the way you perfectly fit against him as you press yourself closer for comfort, your forehead on his neck and your tears warm against his skin. He’s sure he’s just making things up, but it feels like there’s a soft wind going through his whole body, leaving trails of goosebumps on his arms.

It’s probably not the most appropriate moment for him to be feeling that way, but he doesn’t have time to be guilty because it seems like you somewhat share the sentiment–pulling away like you’re electrocuted before you look at him wide-eyed and gaping.

“Won–”

“I’m an outlier.” He cuts you off, riding the rush he’s feeling across his body and letting his honest words get out before he can think too much. He doesn’t know why but he feels like he should tell you and he should do it right now. “I don’t have a soulmate and–”

“Kiss me?” There’s urgency and a slight tremble in your voice as you ask this, fingers grasping the material of his shirt tightly like it’s your lifeline.

“But your soul–”

“Wonwoo, please?”

It’s hard to tell who moves first, or perhaps you two move at the same time, but the moment his lips meet yours, Wonwoo would like to retract his statement earlier about your embrace being magical because it’s nothing compared to this.

It’s absolutely nothing compared to the thousand fireworks exploding in his chest at different intervals–never stopping and electrifying in the most pleasant way possible. He doesn’t know it’s possible for humans to feel this way. Is this what people with a soulmate feels like when they meet their soulmate? Isn’t this what you said earlier: fireworks and butterflies?

It’s not even butterflies in his stomach. He’s pretty sure there’s an earthquake down there. But, the most important of them all, it feels right and it makes sense even though it shouldn’t be.

The longer his lips move against yours, your fingers grasping the front of his shirt to pull him closer while his fingers thread through your hair to pull you closer, the more it feels like… fuck, he hates to say it but, it feels like it’s meant to be.

It’s only because you both need to take a breath that you pull away, and Wonwoo doesn’t think it’s possible for his heart to run even faster than it already is, but it is because, Christ, the way you look like you’re in a trance and your slightly swollen lips are doing things to his heart that he has never experienced before.

It’s a mystery how long you spend looking at each other like that in silence, wrapped against each other without saying anything. He wants so badly to just kiss you senseless once again, but the gears in his head are starting to turn and he knows the right thing to do is to talk.

You have a soulmate. But you asked him to kiss you and he did. And it was magical and all the good things he’s heard before, but it’s not supposed to be… right?

“What was that?” You whisper, more to yourself than to him. “I… I don’t understand?”

He whispers your name softly, trying to pull away only for you to pull him closer again, your eyes full of distress and your body tense, a complete 180 from how you were just seconds ago.

“W—why?” You look at him like he has an answer. But he doesn’t, because he’s not even sure what you’re asking about and he’s still trying to find words to say. “This… this is what they say about–about fireworks and… and butterflies but… you’re not my soulmate? What does this mean?”

Wonwoo tries once again, this time reaching out to caress your hair to calm you down. It helps, because your shoulders visibly relax and he reminds you to breathe. You refuse to let go of him though, and his heart squeezes painfully at how shaken up you seem to be.

“Hey, I’m–I’m not going anywhere, okay?” He tells you softly, trying to appear calm even despite what he’s feeling inside. But he can’t show it. Not when you look so lost and your feelings are presumably all over the place. “I’ll just… get some stuff inside. I’ll be back in a minute, I promise.”

True to his words, Wonwoo comes back not even a minute late with a pack of tissues and two water bottles. He opts to sit right beside you as he hands you the tissue and opens the water for you.

“Here, drink this.”

“Thanks.” You murmur quietly, embarrassed now that you’ve (somewhat) come to your senses. There’s a thousand questions running through your head, some of them hateful, loathing yourself for asking another guy to kiss you when you have a soulmate who’s probably worried sick at home because you haven’t texted him at all since you left the club.

But you have more pressing matters at hand–like why did Wonwoo actually kiss you, and why did it feel like how people around you have been describing what it feels like to be with your soulmate? And… Did he say he’s an outlier?

“Feeling better?” His voice is meek, like he’s not sure if it’s okay to talk to you. But you’re too all over the place to think about politeness and whatnot. It’s a trainwreck inside your head. Your head isn’t dizzy because you’re overthinking; it’s dizzy because you’re thinking of too many things at once–it’s thought after thought after thought after thought. They’re colliding and everything’s a mess.

“You felt that too right?” is the first thing that you manage to say and it’s only after you say it that you realize how horrifying it would be if Wonwoo says no.

He nods, albeit hesitantly, but you don’t really mind because you’ll take anything right now. “It’s… what was that? Why… Why do I feel it with you but not Joshua?”

Joshua is your soulmate, Wonwoo registers in his mind, and he looks at you helplessly, his heart dropping a little at the mention of his name. Should he tell you? About the dreams and the memories? He thinks the dreams and the memories are simply, well, dreams and memories after he met you and Joshua all those nights ago.

Perhaps he really is just an outlier, a special one at that, but that’s about it. He has trampled any hope of making something out of his dreams when it’s clear that you belong to someone else in this lifetime. The universe that gifts him the memory of his past life with you, one that arranges another meeting in this lifetime with you, is the same fucking universe that decides you have a soulmate and it’s not him.

What the fuck was he supposed to do?

But with how he–and you, apparently–feel earlier, he doesn’t think it’s a meaningless coincidence.

He might’ve considered it as one if it was only him feeling it. That he might’ve been desperate and any contact that he was to have with you would simply be magical because it’s nothing but an illusion on his part.

But you?

You’ve just said you feel it too, whatever it might be. And he feels a glimpse of hope even though the whole situation is completely fucked up and there’s no way to get around it without hurting anyone.

How would you feel if you knew?

Would you freak out?

Would you hate him for hiding it?

Would you think he was planning something against you?

Would you laugh at his face and call him crazy?

“You know something.” Your voice brings him back to reality, your eyes searching his face. You don’t sound accusing, you sound downright confused and, dare he says, a tad bit hopeful. “There’s something you’re not telling me… right?”

Wonwoo takes a deep breath and braces himself for whatever he might need to face afterwards. He owes you that much, he thinks to himself. To a certain extent, his memory is your memory, and if you’re as distraught as you seem to be, he hopes this would help you somehow.

“I remember my past life.” He says as calmly as he can, carefully hiding his fear somewhere behind. “They come to my dreams. I thought it was just dreams at first, but they’re… memories and they’ve been getting longer since I met you. Clearer, too.”

It’s hard to say why you’re not freaked out, why you simply believe him like it’s not the craziest thing you’ve heard in your life. But if the universe can decide two people are destined for each other and grant marks to people to seek their other half, why should this be regarded as impossible?

“Did you… know me in your past life?”

Wonwoo smiles bitterly, and it takes everything in you not to reach out to cup his cheek–tell him that he can be honest and you’re going to listen to him no matter what.

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

“As honest as you can be.”

“I might sound crazy.” He whispers, basking in your touch. “This… might affect you in a bad way.”

“Crazier than you remembering your past life?” You smile a little as you say this, which he returns. He appreciates your attempt to lighten up the atmosphere, and he reaches up to take the hand that was cupping his cheek, his fingers tighten around yours before he braces himself once again.

“You were my soulmate.” He rips the bandaid in one go, afraid that he wouldn’t be able to say it otherwise.

It’s hard to describe what you’re feeling: your breath is caught in your throat, the revelation means more than you thought it would. But it’s not shock that’s filling you up. No. It’s recognition, acceptance, and tears because things finally make sense.

“I promised you that I’d find you again in our next life and–”

It finally fucking makes sense why you always feel like there’s something missing in your life, why Joshua’s arrival doesn’t fill it up even though you secretly thought it would; why you feel that pull with Wonwoo since that first time you met him.

You remember that day still. You were just taking a walk, there was no plan whatsoever to sit around and spend time out in the open when it’s so hot outside. But you had seen him by himself, and it felt like time stopped for a few moments and you were enchanted. You felt compelled to look at him–to approach him and ask if it’s okay to take the empty seat on his table.

It wasn’t magical, your first meeting, but something about Wonwoo had pulled you in and you didn’t even try to question it.

The shock you felt when he called you ‘Autumn’ never really died down. And while you tried to convince yourself that it’s simply because it had been a long time since someone referred to you with that name and it was a nickname that is so dear to you, you could feel deep down that there was something else.

And then there was that dream.

Wait.

Right, that dream.

Is that dream…?

“Ginkgo leaf?” You whisper out of nowhere, trying to recall what you saw all those nights ago. “Was that your mark? In your previous life… was that your mark?”

It’s his turn to look at you in shock, the way he’s gaping at you wide-eyed giving you the answer you were looking for.

“H–how?”

“I had a dream, once.” You’ve never felt this vulnerable in your life, but how can you not be when it feels like you’ve just found the reason you’ve been seeking for your whole life? “It was… that night we met… at Namsan. It was your birthday and we were celebrating with a cake and–”

“Hey, breathe?” Wonwoo cuts you off, and you squeeze his fingers in return, only then realizing that you’ve been holding hands the whole time. “Take your time, okay?”

“And I saw the ginkgo leaf on your wrist…” You finish, trying your best not to glance at his wrist even though you know it’s not there. “I didn’t get to see mine though, and that’s why I didn’t assume you were my soulmate.”

“I see…”

You hate how defeated he sounds. And for all the time you’ve been doubting the universe, questioning its means and cursing its ways, you don’t know what to do right now.

Should you be cursing it some more for putting Wonwoo in that position? For making you feel the way you feel only to find out the reason why is because your heart is apparently caught in the past? What does this make Joshua? What does this make your entire relationship with him?

You ask about his dreams, and even though Wonwoo is hesitant at first, he gets more comfortable the more he relays them. And you feel like crying because, apparently, all of them are about you. There’s not one single dream that doesn’t have you in it, and it feels like a punch to your guts to know that he has to live his life with this replaying in his mind, that he can’t even talk about it to anyone because he doesn’t want to risk it, that he’s been keeping something this big for his whole life because he doesn’t really have any other choice.

You grief about the memories you don’t have. About what could’ve been and about the pain Wonwoo has to go through by himself because the universe has arranged you to be with someone else when he’s been seeing pictures of you with him in his dreams.

“What… what do you think we should do?” You throw the question out there, hope that someone has the answer. But Wonwoo stays silent, and he looks at you with eyes full of yearning that wrenches your soul. You know what he’s trying to say. You’re the one who has a soulmate. Whatever that he might want with you, what he might’ve imagined throughout the entire time he has those memories, they all don’t mean anything because you’re off limits.

“I don’t… think there’s anything that we can do.”

“But–”

“It’s okay.” He shakes his head with a sad smile. “I didn’t… I wasn’t expecting anything. I didn’t even think I’d be talking about this with you.”

“But, still!” You’re grasping his hand tightly–as if he’ll be gone if you let go even slightly. “This… this has got to mean something!”

“You have a soulmate.” He reminds you, his voice shaking. And tears blur your eyes once again at how resigned he sounds, but can you blame him? The universe has fucked him up in more ways than one, you would’ve lost it a long time ago if you were him, but here he is, taking care of you still even though it might make things worse for him.

“Do you love me?”

Wonwoo exhales deeply, pressing his lips together to hide the fact that they’re trembling because he’s so close to tears.

“I know my past self loved you more than life itself.”

“Do you love me?”

“Look–I…”

“Because there’s—there’s clearly something because my heart feels like it’s about to burst and I already want to be with you all the time.” You cry as you honestly bare yourself in front of him, as you tell him all the emotions that have been going through you since the kiss you share with each other minutes ago. “I don’t… I’ve never felt like this before and I’ve always questioned why–wonder what went wrong and if there’s some kind of mistake. But I couldn’t do anything because supposedly he’s my soulmate and I’m supposed to accept that. Because it’s a given and it’s obvious and there’s just no fucking reason for me to question it.”

Wonwoo lets his tears fall as you say all this, his hands warm against yours and he relishes at the way you’re holding on to them tightly, like you want to convince him that there’s something–some way to go around this.

“But you just gave me a reason to question it now.” You sob, reminding him about the talk you had the first time you met each other.

If fate and destiny actually exist, who is there to say that what the universe has decided for you is your best path?

You must look absolutely hideous right now, with tears all over your face that won’t stop no matter how many times you wipe them. But you don’t care, because you finally feel content with him beside you. Because even though it’s selfish and you would need to figure out the whole Joshua situation, you’re not going to let go of the person who finally makes you feel complete, who makes you realize the things your friends have been saying are all true: that it just makes sense, that it’s practically binding to the point where you even hate to think about having to separate with him after this night ends.

“You told me I could always go against my destiny if that’s what I choose to do. Why are you not letting me? Do you not feel it?”

“I do. I swear, I feel it too.” He wipes the last of his tears and calms himself down, makes you panic when he tries to let go of your hands only for his palm to rest warmly against the side of your face. “But you have a soulmate and it’s not something that you can decide by yourself. It wouldn’t be fair to him, don’t you think?”

“Has the universe ever been fair to you?” You ask him, wondering how he can still have this much consideration for someone who he should’ve harbored ill feelings for.

“It leads me to you, doesn’t it? In two different lifetimes too.” He smiles and caresses your cheek, wiping your tears also.

“Please stop making me cry.” You whisper weakly, certain that your eyes will be red and puffy once you’ve stopped crying.

Wonwoo chuckles at this, and the sound of his small laughter brings a smile out of you despite the tears.

“I’m not saying you’re not in your right mind. But perhaps… we’re too high on our emotions right now, don’t you agree?”

You don’t. You really don’t. But you get what he’s saying so you nod and instead bask in the way his thumb is caressing the apple of your cheek.

“So what do you suppose we should do?

“You… might want to think this through and have a talk with… Joshua.” It’s bizarre to hear Joshua’s name from Wonwoo, but you know he’s right and if… if you want to try whatever it is you’re going to try with Wonwoo, you don’t want to do it in hiding and you don’t want to betray Joshua’s trust and respect more than you probably already have at this point. He might hate you, he might not accept it, but you have to at least try and a part of you believes Joshua would understand somehow. “And then we can decide from then?”

“Okay…” You close your eyes and lean forward to rest your forehead against his shoulder, feeling his arm pulling you closer and trying to memorize his scent and his warmth to calm the erratic beat of your heart. “Okay.”

Wonwoo takes you home, sitting a good distance from you in the taxi like you both weren’t pressed against each other just minutes prior. But you know why he’s doing it, and you still appreciate him for going with you just to make sure you’ll go back safely even if he doesn’t have to.

For the first time that night, your mind wanders to Joshua. About how you should approach the subject with him and all the consequences you might need to face afterwards. It’s not going to be pretty even if Joshua somehow understands: what would you say to your family? To his family?

But you can’t let go of Wonwoo. Not now that you’ve met him, that you’ve found out what his existence means to you and you’ve felt all the magic you’ve been hearing from other people.

You wonder now if the reason why you’ve questioned the whole soulmate system is because it doesn’t apply to you personally. Because you didn’t feel the pull and all that should’ve come along with the first meeting.

Now that you’ve felt it with Wonwoo… You glance at him, which Wonwoo catches almost right away. He smiles at you, though you can tell his eyes are full of worries, his mind probably elsewhere. You don’t blame him though, what has transpired tonight is beyond the two of you; it’s only right for him to be out of it.

You suddenly feel like one of those stupid main characters in a romance movie, one who would throw everything away for a man they barely know. But your heart knows Wonwoo, yearns for him before you even know it. In a world where two people are destined to be together… you don’t think it’s stupid of you to want to do this.

When the driver tells you that you’ve arrived you hesitate before you get off, not wanting to leave Wonwoo. But he smiles in encouragement, tells you that you have his number and you’re free to text him after you’ve figured things out.

He omits Joshua from his sentence, but you know that’s what he means.

“Hey.” He calls for you right when you’re about to close the door and reaches out to squeeze your hand once, letting go before you can return the gesture. “Don’t rush it, okay? Take your time. I’ll be waiting. You know I’m good at that.”

Wonwoo waits.

Days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months.

There’s a reason why he gave you his number instead of asking for yours.

He wants you to be ready before deciding anything, wants you to make the decision that you think is best for you.

He knows he’d call you right away if he has your number, to make sure you’re okay and to see how you’re doing.

But that’d be even more painful, he feels like. More painful than a thousand scenarios going through his mind because he’s by himself. At least like this, he knows it’s nothing but scenarios that he comes up with; nothing is real and it’s all in his head.

Like his dreams.

Like his memories.

He exhales as he looks at his phone once again, waiting for your message that isn’t coming.

The third time Wonwoo meets you might be the last time he sees you, after all.

Three months later, October comes around, yellow leaves telling him that autumn has arrived. Not his Autumn, obviously, and he glares at the ginkgo tree he passes by that is still annoyingly green even though everything else has started to turn yellow.

The third week of October, you finally text Wonwoo, apologizing for the time you took and asking if it’s still okay to see each other even though it’s been months since then. He says yes, of course, and you’re currently sitting anxiously in the taxi on your way to his place.

You don’t know how Wonwoo is going to take what you’re about to tell him and you don’t think it’s wise to be having this conversation out in the open; hence why you’re thankful that he agrees when you ask if it’s okay to talk in the privacy of his walls.

“Hi.” He opens the door, offering you a small smile that you return tightly. It’s weird that you immediately feel at peace in his presence despite the anxiety that has been building up in your chest.

“Hi.” You press your lips together, exhaling a deep breath before you apologize to him once again. “Sorry it took me quite some time to text you. I didn’t want to… rush, like you said.”

“It’s okay.” You know it’s not, you can tell by how tense it is and how forced his smile seems to be. Plus, it doesn’t take a genius to know why he looks like he hasn’t been getting decent sleep because you know you probably would’ve looked the same if not for your makeup.

He ushers you to come in, tells you to sit down on the sofa and offers you a drink, in which you say you’re fine with just water.

Wonwoo returns with a cup of warm tea though, and he says that he’s put some honey in it, that you look tense and hopefully the drink helps.

“I figure you’ve made up your mind?”

Truth be told, you can’t even begin to imagine what’s been going on inside Wonwoo’s head. You offered yourself to him only to go missing for three months straight, not even a text that tells him that you’re okay and you’re not forgetting him.

But you didn’t want to text him when things were uncertain, not with what happened right after you got home–with what went down between you and Joshua.

You couldn’t.

That’s why you’ve only finally managed to text him a few days ago. With things being in the clear, you can finally talk to him and decide what’s going to happen moving forward.

“Give me a chance to explain?” You look at him hopefully.

“I wouldn’t tell you to come if I wasn’t going to listen to you.” His smile lifts parts of your tension, and you take a deep breath before you begin, already having imagined this conversation a hundred times in your head.

“Joshua was there when I came home that night.” You bite your lip, already feeling like crying as you recall that scene in your head. “He was on the floor, passed out. He wouldn’t wake up no matter how much I shook him, and I realized he was clutching his neck–right where our soulmate marks are. It was hot, like it was burning before, and I called the hospital right away and–”

“Wait–burning?”

“Yes and… and the mark was fading and it was only hours later that I realized mine was fading also.” You swallow hard at this, a painful wave crashes against your heart as you recall his face when he came to, when he told them what happened and when they told him what actually happened.

“It just… started burning out of nowhere.”

The doctor glanced at you, your eyes were puffy from crying even more than you already did before that, your fingers tight against Joshua’s because you thought you’d lost him.

“Did you feel the burn also?” The doctor pulled you out after Joshua fell back asleep, a conclusion already knitting itself together in her mind. There’s no way you’d be fine enough to stand on your own feet if you had felt the burn, but still, she had to make sure before jumping into conclusions.

“No…” You sniffled. “I… was out with… a friend and he already passed out when I came back home.”

“No pain, at all?”

You shook your head, mentally and physically exhausted after everything that had happened in the last twenty four hours.

“No. I–He’d be fine, right?” You asked in desperation. “What… what happened, exactly?”

“We need to run some more tests. But… you’re sure you didn’t feel anything at all?”

“No, I didn’t. I really didn’t. Does that mean anything?”

“They… they said it’s the universe… taking our marks from us.” You force a smile just right after the first tear falls, your feelings still all over the place even though almost three months have passed since then. “Apparently, it had happened before. Though it’s been fifty years or so since they last heard of a case. They couldn’t really tell why it happened because there weren’t many cases to study and compare, but I felt like… I might have an idea why it happened so I met the doctor privately and told her about you.”

Wonwoo holds back the urge to reach for your hands that are balled into fists, to free your lower lip from your teeth because he’s sure you’d bleed if you bite down just a tad bit harder.

“She said that there’s a possibility that I was right. That… the universe is rearranging my soulmate because I met you. It’s not unheard of, but it’s not something that you’d even find in books because it’s some sort of myth at this point.”

You look up to meet his eyes. His heart breaks at how sad you look, and the protective feeling from three months ago when he saw you crying at one in the morning returns at once. He’s not sure if it’s okay to comfort you this time around though, because by the way you’re relaying the story, he can’t tell at all where you stand exactly.

“I was debating with myself whether it would be better to tell him right away or wait until he got better. But Joshua… caught on easily that something bothered me and it just… came out. I didn’t say your name, and I only told him what he might need to know: that I met someone and it just… made sense.

It wasn’t easy. He was the one laying on the hospital bed but he was also the one comforting me. And I felt so bad and I kept on apologizing to him but he said it’s okay and he understood. That it’s not my fault because he knew I didn’t have a say in how I felt.”

From the thousand scenarios Wonwoo has imagined in the three months you left him in silence, this is not one of them. He can’t even begin to imagine how painful it must’ve been for Joshua, both physically and mentally. His mind takes him back to Jisoo, about what she said about the burn she felt and how it affected her after.

How could Joshua say that in his position?

For what it’s worth, Wonwoo is glad to know that you were meant to be with someone as caring as Joshua is–who is so understanding that he would withstand that kind of pain and said it was fine. That he doesn’t blame you for it.

But where does this leave the two of you now?

“He asked me what I wanted to do now that we’re… no longer bonded by the marks. And I told him honestly that I don’t want to lose him; that I still… love him even though it’s not how he expected me to. That I understand if he doesn’t want me around because it can’t be easy to look at someone who used to be your soulmate.”

You’re sobbing at this point, and he hands you some tissues to wipe your tears, reminds you to breathe before you continue.

“Can you… can you hold me, please?” Your voice is small as you say this, as if you’re uncertain whether you’re allowed to ask that. Wonwoo is glad you did though, because he immediately comes closer and pulls you into his chest, offering you whatever comfort he might be able to give that way. “Sorry, I just–”

“Shh. It’s fine.” Whatever the outcome of this conversation may be, this is the least he can do for you. And perhaps a little for himself also, because it’s painful to see you cry and not able to do anything at all. Because he’s been dreaming of hugging you–the you in this lifetime, not the past one–and he’s not going to pass any chance that’s presented in front of him even if it might be wrong. He still doesn’t know how your talk ended with Joshua, but if you asked him to hold you… that should mean something, right? “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise?” You sniffle, pulling away to look at him.

“It is my place, so.” He tries to joke to help you relax, and it works because you weakly hit his chest before you exhale another deep breath and continue after Wonwoo makes you take a sip of your tea.

“He… He’d like to keep me around too.” You say quietly, your tears now replaced with hiccups. “But not now. Because it still hurts and… and he says he’d contact me once he’s ready.”

“And how do you feel about that?”

You shrug, burying yourself further into his neck. Is it bad that it feels so right to do this already? Is it bad that you’re doing this when you’re still trying to move on from your guilt?

“I honestly have no idea… But… Well, he says he wants me to be happy with you and that he doesn’t want me to not give you–us–a chance because I feel guilty towards him. That… what’s done is done and he’ll eventually be okay.”

“He’s very kind, isn’t he?” He comments instead, unsure how to feel after everything you’ve said. A big part of him is relieved, but it’s still hard to be completely happy when he knew it cost someone the kind of pain that would last a lifetime.

“The kindest.” You smile for the first time, agreeing with him. “I think that’s also why I’ve always had this guilt within me, you know? Even before I met you. Because I just know I can’t return his feelings but he was supposed to be my soulmate.”

“I understand.” He whispers against your head, leaning his cheek there. “Is that also why it took you three months to text me?”

“Partly… yeah. I ended up taking care of him until he got discharged, and we decided to just… talk to our parents separately about what happened and what… might happen moving forward. And then I spent some time arranging my thoughts and cleaning up his stuff from my apartment. I haven’t given them back to him, but they’re all in a box in my place. So… yeah. Sorry for not texting you at all.”

He hums and holds you tighter, feels the way your arms are also hugging him in apology. He doesn’t press about your parents, he supposes you would’ve talked about it if you want to. But you’ve just relayed a very emotionally loaded story which must be very exhausting in itself.

“I did tell you to take your time.” He says, a smile blooming into his face at what he says next. “Thank you for coming back to me.”

“Thank you for letting me come back to you.” You say instead, pulling away from him to meet his eyes. Your eyes must be puffy from all the crying, gosh, you seem to be crying all the time when you’ve only seen this guy four times in total. You wonder if you were this much of an emotional wreck too in your past life, but you decide against asking about it because it does not matter now.

Your past lives might be the one that eventually leads you to each other; but Wonwoo has probably had enough stories regarding the past life and you don’t see why you should talk about it when you have the future in front of you.

“They’ve stopped, you know?” Wonwoo suddenly says.

“What have?”

“The dreams.” He presses his lips together and looks at you for comfort, which you readily give as you squeeze his shoulder. “They don’t appear anymore. Like, completely stopped. I do dream of you, but not… you from the past life. Just you.”

“How do you know it’s not me from the past?”

He takes your hand before he answers, gently lifts it up to point at your empty wrist and smiles.

“Because there’s no mark on your wrist.”

“Ah… right.” You lean forward to rest your forehead against his shoulder, and you spend a moment like that: your body pressed against each other and the ghost of his lips on top of your head.

It’s then that you whisper, a little afraid but also hopeful–perhaps even excited at what the future might have in store for you two.

“Are we really doing this?”

“A little too late to not do this, I think.” He jokes, which earns him another hit on the chest and a glare that doesn’t affect him at all. He cups your cheek and looks into your eyes, making you shy from the sudden attention. “If you want it then I want it. Easy as that.”

You press your lips together and bask in his stare, get lost in his eyes as you finally try to let go of the guilt holding you down and focus more on the certainty that you felt that night you tried to convince Wonwoo to do something about your situation.

“I’ll be okay.” Joshua reassured you for the nth time as you dropped him off his place, your second home that you probably wouldn’t be able to visit until an indefinite time. “Don’t worry too much about me, okay? You know how I am.”

“I’m really–”

“I don’t want you to apologize again.” He cuts you off, his voice stern. “I don’t blame you, I really don’t. I’m happy to know you’ve met someone that has made you complete. I’m sorry for not being able to do that to you. It must’ve been hard for you all those time, hm? So try to be happy now. Don’t think too much about me. I will be okay, trust me on that. I’ve never gone back on my words, have I? I don’t regret the time I had with you and I don’t want you to feel guilty for not feeling a certain way.”

“Let’s do it, then?” You say, wanting to make sure like there’s any way Wonwoo would say no. “Fuck the universe, right?”

Wonwoo laughs and gently squishes your cheeks before he nods, his forehead leaning to rest against yours, his breath warm against your face even though his lips aren't touching yours just yet.

“Fuck the universe, indeed.”

It's later that night that you point at the inside of his wrist and gasp when you check yours: identical marks of a twin gingko leaves intertwined with each other adorning your wrist and his.

Wonwoo grins.

His Autumn is finally here.

©wonwoonlight – all rights reserved. I don’t allow any reposting, translation, and any other kind of redistribution of this fic. Please tell me if you’re aware of anyone doing this without my permission.

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A/N 2: well, if you're reading this, thank you once again!! i have never written this trope before and i honestly can't tell at all if you'll like it or not. but i wrote this for wonwoo's birthday, so hopefully i'll have it in me to accept it if it's not your cup of tea. but anyway, it's been some time since i write anything this long also--didn't even know i had it in me to still write anything this long, and it kinda made me realize that... this might be my last long piece for a quite some time. it's not easy to write this, to see my notifications everyday and see less and less feedbacks while the likes take up 95% of them. i've said it before, but it gets discouraging the more it goes. i'm not announcing hiatus or anything, but i hope you know where my blog stands at this point. happy birthday once again wonwoo, my muse, the loml 🥰💕

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ahgasegotarmy116 · 29 days

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Do it for Him | Do You Even Love Me? | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: Voicing the thoughts that had been on your mind for so long leaves you broken and regretting every decision you've ever made. Pairing: Daughter in law reader x Father in Law Jungkook (Yändere) Word Count: 1.1k~ Warnings: An argument and some explicit language (kinda but not really) a/n: This is a hypothetical situation and is NOT what happens in the story. Oc and Jungkook don't end up together and I'll be writing another bonus chapter about how everything ends but this is simply a longer drabble that I just decided to make into a bonus chapter since I think some of you would be interested in reading it 😁 P.s. Requested by an annon 💜 (also written in one sitting so ignore any mistakes lol) Series Masterlist

"How was your day today?" I ask half heartedly, wondering if he'll actually speak to me like a human being today or skip to having sex again like he's done almost every time he's come to visit lately.

"It was fine but I don't want to talk about work since it looks like someone's been missing me huh?" he taunts, taking my want for interaction with him as a sign of an insatiable hunger he wishes I shared.

"I did miss you but I missed being with you, not just sex" I say, pressing on his chest to keep some space between us to show I'm serious and want to talk about this.

He stops and waits for me to continue but his eyes don't leave my body for a second.

"When I told you I loved you I didn't mean for our life to end up like this" I say, referring to the way we've been living for the past year.

"What's wrong? Did you need something else? You have my credit card and I told you before that you didn't have to ask me for anything. If you want it then get it. It's the least I could do for my beautiful Angel" he says while caressing my face but I take a step back, not letting him put me under his spell again.

"I'm not talking about money Jungkook. I'm talking about how I told you I didn't want to live as 'The other woman'. You told me you were going to get a divorce and let the children and I move in with you. Not just have you pop by at this separate house you have us living in" I say.

He turns around and heads to the kitchen, gulping down a glass of water and placing the cup down on the counter. "I told you I would take care of it" he growls out while leaning both hands against the sink, clearly not appreciating the topic of conversation when all he had been looking for was a quick fuck.

"You told me that a year ago and from what I've seen you've been lying to me this whole time. Have you even filed the papers? You know that neither of you love each other so what's the point of keeping this whole charade going?" I say, following after him and standing my ground, not letting him drop this.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to center himself so he won't blow up on me like he has in the past. "These things take time Angel, plus going through a divorce would make my company take a big hit and might ruin some of the relationships I've built" he tries to explain but I'm not having it.

"If your company is all you care about then maybe all of this was a mistake" I say, turning around to walk into my bedroom with him following lazily behind me.

"You know I care about you too Angel" he says, leaning in the doorway while I've decided to plot down on the bed, running my fingers through my hair and trying to figure out if any of this was a good idea.

From the looks of it to any outsider this whole relationship was bound to go up in flames sooner or later. My life wasn't supposed to be like this. Was I really that naïve to think that somehow things would change if we were actually together? Did I really think that he was capable of loving me too?

"No I don't know that. I know that you love my body and that you love having sex with me and the idea of being with me and stealing me away from your son but I don't even know if you actually love me. Y/n. Not Angel, not the mother of your children, not the daughter in law that you took advantage of, just me" I spout off everything that's been on my mind and I can see that he starts to more or less assess our relationship and I really hope I'm going to get the answer I'm hoping for.

"You knew who I was when you first met me. You knew who I was when you married my son and you definitely knew what you were getting yourself into when you left him to be with me. I'm not this loving and kind husband that you want me to be and deep down you know that too. Do I care about you? Yes, I do. Do I love you? I don't know. I don't know if I do and I don't know if I ever will and if that's not good enough for you then be my guest, say the word and we can end this right now" he says and every condescending word that falls from his lips is like a knife through my heart.

I choke back a sob as my eyes glass over leaving him rolling his eyes, clearly not having the patience to deal with this today.

"Seems like you've got some stuff to think about and from the looks of it I've got some business to attend to" he says, hinting at the headache it's going to be for him to go through with this divorce.

He strides over to the bed where I'm sat with my head down, trying and failing to hold back my tears and picks up my chin. "Just remember who you're dealing with Angel okay? It will make all of ours lives so much easier if you stop thinking that you can change me" he says, caressing my face again, driving the knife deeper.

"I am who I am and if you can't accept that then I think we have some hard decisions we'll need to make here" he says a wipes away a few of my tears before tapping underneath my chin twice and walking away.

"Where are you going?" I ask, getting up and following him out, my vision going glossy. "It seems you're not in the mood that I thought you might be in so I think it's best if I go. Give my love to the children" he says over his shoulder and walks out, leaving me speechless and beyond heart broken, mourning the life I had with his son all over again and missing the feeling of loving someone and being loved in return.

"What have I done?" I whimper, sinking to the floor and sobbing, wishing that I could take it all back. That I could start over and never get mixed up with this family no matter how in love I was with his son. I never knew that a love that was once so pure would be traded for one that is so devastatingly one sided, wrecking my life beyond compare and stealing what little pieces of me I had left.

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darkbluekies · 1 year

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Family life with the yandere OC's

A/N: a few of you have asked about having kids with the yanderes or already having kids when meeting them etc, so I figured I'll give my view on how they'd handle a family with you :)

Warnings: drugging, neglect, isolation, guns, threatening of beating up fifth graders,

Silas:

Things will change once you have kids. Oh, they’ll really change. For the better? Of course not. He’ll grow even more protective and possessive over you and your children. I can see him with three daughters of different ages. He’ll move from his two story house to a bigger one out in the countryside so you and your child can grow up far away from the city’s polluting atmosphere. He wants to be able to ‘taint’ his children himself, no one else. After all … if your kids start to talk about your home life at school … maybe someone will try to take them and you away from him.

As a father, Silas will be the ultimate deal. He'll be loving, playful and protective. He will give your daughters whatever they desire. All he wants is to see them happy. They will go to school under fake names to make sure that none of his enemies can find them. You better get ready for hell if someone (even from school) dares to hurt your daughters because Silas will do everything in his power to get rid of the ones that have the nerve.

"Daddy's home! Hi, my beautiful girls, i've missed you so, so much! Have you been good girls while daddy's been gone? Wonderful. Where's Y/N? Upstairs? Thank you. I have to go hug them too."

Dr Kry:

Once you find out that you'll have twin girls, Dr Kry is quick to turn off the poisoned air purifier. He can't risk that anything happens to you or your kids. He'll move you from the hospital to his house in the woods. He wants his kids to grow up near nature, to care about the earth and its inhabitants. It's a perfect place too, there's no one around.

As a father, Dr Kry is strict and a bit harsh. He wants both his daughters to succeed and not be compared to one another. He will read for the family in front of your fireplace in the evenings and teach your kids things about the world. As much as he'd like to homeschool your twins, he can't do everything at the same time. He'll let them go to a private school that shares his beliefs and tutor them a bit on the side. He will support your kids in any way they need to affirm that they'll succeed in life.

He won't keep them sick, like he does with you … unless they figure out what he's done to you. He's done his best to indoctrinate your twins, but if his smart genes have passed on to them … then he'll have no other choice.

"Sweetpea, don't look at me like that. I have to do that! They know about what happened at the hospital. They know everything. They're smarter than I thought. Of course I love them! That's why I'm doing this! They're safe this way. If I can't create a world for them, then they'll have to stay home. They have each other, Y/N, they're okay. I will do anything to protect my family."

King Edmund:

He’ll be joyful. Maybe not too much about having a kid … but because that part is over now. He won’t have to worry about not getting an heir. The castle will get more guards now that there’s a baby coming. Every corner will be baby proofed and every staircase will be watched. Every window will be locked and every door blocked off. You’ll have maids surrounding you everytime Edmund’s not close. He won’t risk a. single. damn. thing.

As a father, Edmund’s absent and strict. He expects his son to be a worthy heir and continue his legacy. If he doesn't, he'll be more than disappointed. He'll watch you play with him from afar with a smile on his face. Deep inside he really loves the child, but there's so much more on his shoulders than just raising a kid. He has to teach him so, so much. He can't be a failure.

He'll teach his son to protect you when he's gone. And your son will do everything to impress his father. If you thought that Edmund was suffocating, you haven't seen his offspring.

"Why that look, my dear? Our son wasn't letting you leave the room? He threatened a guard? Oh my … sounds like it's my kid afterall. I'm proud of him. Now I know you'll be in good hands when I'm gone."

Jerry:

To be honest, Jerry doesn't want kids, but if she had one, it'd be a daughter. She knows she'll mess them up, she won't be a good mother. She's terrified of giving birth and hates toddlers. It'd be better if you already had a daughter / sister before Jerry laid her eyes on you. Wherever the child comes from, Jerry will take care of it her way. She'll teach her to protect herself and to fight. You'll notice that Jerry will be softer with her and do whatever the little girl wants. Bake a cake? Go shopping? Beat up some fifth graders? Jerry will bring her baseball bat.

Jerry will be more of a big sister / aunt, then a mother. She will move with you and the little girl to a new house to give all of you some more space. She will have her men watching the house at all times. You want to leave her, knowing that she's not good for the little girl, but the little girl seems so happy. She really thinks that Jerry is cool. Jerry will never let the two of you leave, she's never been this happy.

"Hi, baby boy/girl, how's it going? You're mad because you can't leave the house? Well, duh, it's for your safety. By the way, I brought our little girl to the shooting range. She needs to learn how to use a gun. What? No, I'm not making her into a mini-me! I'm creating a strong woman, like me. There's a difference. Now come over here with your cute, little body."

Hedwig:

Hedwig will live a traditional rich home life. Two kids, a boy and a girl, nannies, maids, chefs, everything. The four of you will have moved to another house that her family owns. The kids will go to expensive private schools and get taught by the best of the best. Hedwig will spoil them, just like she was. You'll not get to have a job and will stay home with Hedwig. She wants you to 'go full on out on your hobbies'. The only time you're allowed outside is when Hedwig’s with you. Never alone, especially never alone with the kids. You could run away with them.

As a mother, Hedwig will be present and understanding. She will stay home for the most time and will always be available. She has assistants for a reason. She'll listen to all of your kids' problems and stand up for them, even if they're at fault. Her kids can't do anything wrong. If they act spoiled and ungrateful, however … she will cut off all allowance until they understand how lucky they are. You'll do a lot of trips and go on a lot of vacations. Your kids will have a lot of freedom, but you will be wrapped around Hedwig’s expensive finger.

"Ah, they got in trouble in school again. I have to go get them. Some kid accused our son of throwing a ball in their face. I don't think our little boy could ever do that. No, sweetheart, please stay at home. I will take care of this. You shouldn't lift a finger. I love you, stay here. When i come home we can watch a movie, okay? Perfect!"

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere fics #yandere mafia #yandere oc x you #yandere ocs #female yandere #yandere doctor #yandere king #yandere au #yandere headcanons #yandere oc x reader #yandere parents #yandere scenarios #the younger generation

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lilacjk · 6 months

Text

𝗡𝗘𝗖𝗞 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗦

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

genre: yandere, best friend to lover, jungkook is a hotty, angst

warning: oc is sad and lonely

Summary : He loves bieng my friend, but he has girlfriend who he loves ....could this possibly change him from your close friend to a distant person.. And will that be able to change his habit of kissing your neck to seek comfort

A/n : I am just too nervous for part too... I changed oc from y/n to nari.But I hope you all like it please share your reviews on it

------------------☆♡☆☆♡---------------

It's been two weeks, he is still being cold. Now not even bothering to replying to her messages, not even her calls . She called him three times yesterday, two times today. And what did he do? Just shooed her away sending a quick " Busy rn call you later " but never calls

Nari scoffed felling tears dwelly up. Just sitting there on her bed for past 5 hour seeing her twelve years of friendship dying. And could do nothing. She wanted to meet him ask and ask why is he doing this to her, shout at him, nuzzle her face in his neck and cry until he gives the answer but she could not do it she felt defeated.

She messaged him that she wanted to hang out 'he said he is busy' . She asked him if she can come over and have some time together 'he said please not now' . He is just avoiding nari, it's more than evident.

Yuna , a good and close friend ( not more close than jungkook) who met nari met through jungkook himself. Even said that why were you running after someone who is not even willing to make things clear or even pushing you alway. Why can't you let things be.

She can not, she did'nt knew how to. From when she was nine and he was eleven , she have been with jungkook, they both have done everything together. She perfectly knew how to live with jungkook by her side but without him. She felt lost .

Every day seemed like months, she cried cried. Two weeks turned into three and still no word from him. He knew she that how shattered and broken this all was making her but he was keeping his quite.

---------------__-----------__-----------

I knew there was a part of me that was selfish. I was being petty by hating and blaming Aeri. But would it be understood if I said that i loved him since the first day we met he was different from others. Always caring genuine, kind , good looking and most of all my best friend. I never wanted him to know this because I never wanted to lose him I was happy having him by my side as a friend.. Even if I knew he would leave me one day Or another.

I'm starting to wonder if this is really what being in love is. Being okay with ripping yourself to shreds, so the other person can stay whole.

I was always afraid the poison love would make me a monster, but what if trying to get rid of it makes me more of a monster than I was before., monster for loving my own best friend

But how could I stop falling for him. He was the only person who ever made me feel like I was the one worth protecting.

__________________________________

I have decided enough is enough , I will go to his place. This all is making me crazy. But this time I will go without telling him. So he won't have a reason to deny.

So here I am in front of his door ready . Ringing the bell sand waiting for him to open .

"Nari " he says with shocked expression, of course he did not expected me to be here. "Kook, hey" you say seeing him getting confused " Hi , why are you here".

You scoff "Of course I m here to talk but could you let me in ". He moves aside and you enter his visibily tidy and spacious apartment. That's one thing about jungkook you love the most that he loves to be clean arranged and tidy.

"You are avoiding me " You say with visibly tensed expressions."No I am not". " Yes you are, u are not replying to my messages , not picking my calls, and not even hanging out with me". You saying trying hard not to cry. "I not avoiding or ignoring you, it's just this month have been a busy one" He say nonchalantly.

"It's not the first time you were busy kook, there have been times when you were but you never ignored me then, and its much more than evident that there is something bothering you" Now you were crying. You don't know how to stop the tears , you feeling you are not able to breath, the pain in your heart and mind is now getting to much.

"No it's nothing nari , you are just making it a big issue".

"Is it something I did, or something I said " You say not being able to stop the tears "not everything in my life is about you nari". He knows his word are doing nothing but making you hurt more. His heart clenches seeing you cry, if the circumstances where different he would have kissed your tears away. But not know, no matter how much it hurts him seeing you so broken that to because of him , he can not hold you.

"I am just busy nari, we are not kids anymore, we have a lot of responsibilities now, I have more people in my life not just you, I can not be with you everytime or talk to you everytime. You are being a problem now ".

"Oh so I am a problem, and you want to get rid of me don't you ". Crack evident in your voice, you were now breathing heavily.

"Nari you making it a big deal, I didn't meant that "

"You know na kook, how much I hate fighting with you, you know how much this all is hurting me and still you are fooling me with your words .why? Why kook?. "

"Nari I think you should go it's getting dark . I need to go somewhere "

You knew there was no use of stretching this conversation now. He has just cut you off his life. You mind was clouded with all the emotions you were felling. You were shaking, it was getting hard every second to breath.

Jungkook noticed your state and held your hand. "Nari, you are shaking, talk to me ,you are fine ? ". You were just standing not able to speak. You yanked his hand away and started moving towards the main door

You held the door knob .and looked over your shoulder to see him him still standing there with some unrecognizable emotions in his eyes. “You're still wearing your bracelet ,It reminds me of a relationship that I don't want to lose. Kook" You said, more like pleaded. It was the bracelet you gifted him when you were eleven and you both promised to each other you will not leave each no matter what. He never removed that bracelet. And you wish he never do in future too.

Jungkook pov :

I felt as if someone is snatching my life from me. I wanted to hold her in my arms , tell her all the truth, calm her.

" Nari " She turned.

I moved towards her, and I don't what took over me and I wrapped my hands around her waist and my lips were met with the soft skin of her neck. This was not knew to us but kissing her neck knowing this would be the last time. I wanted to just do it forever. But this time she didn't moved her head back to give me more space instead she moved away from me. Hurt was in her eyes and I realized how much I fucked up.

Shooing her away one second and kissing her neck the other second. Kissing her neck was something i always did to show her affection and also to calm myself but doing it right now was not a great move it must have felt as if I was using her to calm my nerves as I always did.

She left as soon as she could, without even sparing me a last glance. Why would she, when I was the only one who was being an asshole and wanted her to leave ..

She is worth nothing less than stardust, but all I can give her is dirt..

( Part three - coming soon...)

Tagelist -:

@heyitsmehaneul ,@xonga

@theblueslytherin , @drqvn

@jjeonjjk7 , @hskahvd5 , @chaconnelatte , @talyaaas-blog

@ane102 , @hobabobas @kochycooky

Sorry if I missed someone out.. Tell me if so

#jungkook #jungkook x reader #bts ffs #bts #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #jeon jungguk #jeon jungkook #jungkook fwb #yandere jungkook #jungkook fanart #jungkook au #jungkook x reader smut

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ahundredtimesover · 1 year

Text

Belong (01) | MYG

Pairing: Yoongi x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: exes-to-lovers-to-exes-to-lovers; actress!OC x basketball coach!Yoongi; summer romance; “long” distance relationship; parallel timelines; angst, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, family drama, sport injury; dreams & moving away; implied depression; basketball and acting talk; 2014 and 2022 Yoongi; shy and nonchalant cocky whipped Yoongi; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter (18+)

Chapter Word count: 14.2k

Series Masterlist

Status: Complete

Series summary: Being an actor has always been your dream. Pursuing it meant many things - leaving the town where you grew up, distancing yourself from your family that had fallen apart, and saying goodbye to the man who made you feel what home was like. When you decide to finally return after being away for so long, you meet Min Yoongi again, and you’re reminded of the summer romance from 8 years ago with the college basketball superstar whose broken dream pushed you away. As you find yourself spending time with him, you’re left to wonder if love changes, if it gives second chances, or if it’s just another illusion that will hurt the both of you the second time around.

Listen to: Boston by Augustana; Shelter by Luca Fogale || Playlist 🎶

A/N: Posting this today to celebrate People pt.2 and D-Day! Here’s a little piece I’ve had for a while. It felt fitting to write something about dreams and finding your purpose through Yoongi and at a time when I’m going through something similar. There’s nothing like his wisdom and his warmth so I hope this could mean something to you somehow. 💕 Please enjoy! And 🫡 to NBA Ambassador Suga! Now that’s his 🏀 dream in another form.

Present Day

There’s always something magical whenever you watch yourself on screen.

It’s not due to some narcissistic reason or an insatiable desire for the spotlight; it’s not even because you think you’re really talented. Sure, you like the attention and just like anyone who’s spent years of their lives perfecting their craft, you want to be pretty great at it, but all those thoughts become suspended whenever it’s your scene.

During these instances, it’s only about your character and her emotions, and that’s what you think is remarkable about it - watching yourself is just like being there, in that moment, on that set, feeling it all.

Most actors would say they love acting because it gives them a variety of roles and personalities to play. You like that bit, too, but it’s the character’s emotions that you commit yourself to the most; it’s being able to immerse yourself in the feelings of joy and anger, of contempt and fear, of envy and admiration, of guilt and love. You like the finiteness of it, that with acting comes the feeling, and you know at some point, it’s going to end.

Once the scene is over, so is the emotion; you’re able to let go of it right away with one breath. You’re good at that, you think - holding onto something for as long as it’s yours, and then letting it go when it no longer is.

The collective gasp of the people around you breaks your bubble only a little; you release a breath yourself as the last scene unfolds. And with the final shot and the succeeding transition to the end credits, you let go of the sadness.

“I can’t believe that only took one shot,” your best friend, Taehyung, says in awe. “I would’ve been crying already knowing how it ends.”

“Jin and I challenged each other,” you proudly say. “We said we’d do our absolute best for that first try and the director thought it was that good. Seriously, not crying until that last second was so hard; I didn’t think I could do it.”

The Kim Seokjin, your co-actor and good friend, looks at you from the other side of the couch with that soft and proud look that you only ever get from him once a project is over. You return the sentiment, knowing that you wouldn’t have survived your first lead role in a drama series if he wasn’t acting alongside you.

He’d been your senior at university where you both took your major in acting. He was already modeling then and snagged a major role in a movie right after graduation; he became a household name after that.

You watched from the sidelines as he achieved his dreams while you took the occasional 30-second roles given to the students, but he didn’t forget you. He called regularly to know how you were doing, gave tips when you asked, and informed you of upcoming auditions.

It was the type of friendship that challenged you, given that you both wanted to one day star in a series or movie together, a culmination of all the long hours of rehearsals and line-reading and classes that you both did. He had already made a name for himself; you wanted to be good enough to have yours be opposite his.

It would take a few years, but after a supporting role in a romcom movie that saw people wanting more of you, you and Jin finally got cast in a series about a mortal woman falling in love with a celestial being, which, at the beginning, reflected your respective statuses in the industry. You expected the show to do well - everything that Kim Seokjin touches turns to gold, as the saying goes - but you didn’t expect for the public to love you both as a pair as much as they do, given that they want you to star in another show right away.

“I cried as I turned around,” Jin says of the scene where he had to go back to his world and leave you behind. “That was heavy and even I’m impressed we did it in one shot.”

“Well, the sadness and grief would have dwindled by the third or fourth time,” you chuckle. “I’m not good enough yet to maintain all the emotions after so many takes.”

“Not that you aren’t good enough,” Jin counters. “You just haven’t been in the industry that long yet. That kind of experience makes a difference. I’d say I wouldn’t have been able to sustain the same emotion for long, too. It was a difficult one. I mean, what goodbye scene isn’t?”

It’s a rhetorical question, of course, but much of why it was difficult for you to keep the emotions in was because it was your first goodbye scene. You have a feeling that the succeeding ones wouldn’t be any easier, though. You’d like to think you’re okay with goodbyes and that says a lot, but then again, you don’t know anyone who’s actually good at it.

Or maybe you do. But you’d rather not think about it.

It’s silent for a few more seconds. You suppose that the rest of your co-actors who are here with you are still processing the end of a series that’s been their source of comfort for the past few months, too. It had been your weekly routine to watch the episode together in Jin’s house, not wanting to let go of each other just yet after filming wrapped up a few weeks ago.

“Well, that was amazing, wasn’t it?” He finally speaks up. “It was a good run and thank god that ___ insisted on these watch parties. Or else I’d be crying by myself in my room after the finale,” he laughs. “This better not be the last time we see each other.”

“Because it isn’t,” you reply. “We still have that cast and crew dinner and a couple more filming stuff for promo. That’s easily another 3 more weeks of being together. Which is really 3 weeks too short.”

“So… does anyone want to go on a trip after that?” Hyun-seung, one of the actors, excitedly suggests. “It’d be a good way to unwind and use up what we’ll earn.”

You laugh along with everyone but you’re the only one who passes up on it.

“I can’t,” you sigh. “I have a trip to Daegu at the end of the month and I can’t move it.”

Disappointed sighs echo throughout the living room, and you insist that they should continue with the trip without you. Most of them don’t want to, but you eye Jin so that he would make the call to push through with it even if you won’t be around, so he does. It’s rare to find such good company with other actors, and you truly want them to maintain the friendships they built here way beyond the series.

Your friends make general plans as you listen in, wishing you could be there instead of home, which is where you’ll be for the next 2 months as you promised your family. Or more like, as they guiltripped you into doing.

You haven’t been home in years and for good reason. After your parents separated and you were the lone child who didn’t harbor anger towards your mother who wanted to pursue her dreams elsewhere, you promised yourself you’d leave that place, too.

Visits during summer had been fine. But after the most painful goodbye you ever made, you’d stopped going back altogether, reasoning that your up and coming career required all your time. You doubt that your family knew the truth, and despite their remarks of you following in the footsteps of your mother, those weren’t enough for you to open up about something so heartbreaking, knowing it hit too close to home. Their bitterness wasn’t a reason for you to keep going back either.

“Daegu, really?” Jin asks after everyone else has left, save for Taehyung and Jimin, your personal assistant whose glassy eyes say he’s not yet over the season finale. “You haven’t been home in 6 years.”

“Four, actually,” you correct him. “I had a filming there sometime ago.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t actually go home,” he clarifies. “You went to the shoot then back to your hotel. I remember that; I kept asking Tae how you were doing.”

“I was fine,” you shrug. “How was I supposed to be? I was good, just couldn’t wait to get back here. I had a boyfriend, remember?”

“Andrew was a fling, not a boyfriend,” Jin rolls his eyes, and you confirm that the model is his least favorite of your exes. “And if I remember correctly, you broke it off days later.”

“Well, it stops being good when it stops being fun,” Taehyung says, mocking your usual statement whenever your friends ask why you broke things off with your partners. “She shut down when she came back. I guess going home does that to her.”

“You know how places just naturally comfort you? Daegu isn’t that place,” you try to explain. “I had to get it off my system for the one week I was there and Andrew acted out. I just didn’t want the drama.”

Everyone nods, knowing it’s how you usually are. You always viewed relationships as a complement to your job. Being an actor is tough work with its own complications and you definitely don’t want it from your partner. It was always easy for you to fall into that honeymoon hole with someone, but you always walked away from it just as quick once the rainbows and butterflies had subsided. Whether it’s jealousy over your leading men or not having enough time, or just wanting to be by yourself to regroup, your exes always found a reason to argue. And you were always good at walking away when you needed to.

It was like that with every person. Except one. Your friends don’t know if he’s the reason why, or if he’s the exception.

“So what made you decide to go home? And for how long?” Jin queries, feeling a little worried because of what he knows is out there for you. He’s always been a little protective like that.

“About 2 months?” You respond, to the surprise of the older man. “My dad wants me to celebrate his wedding anniversary with them. And spend time with my sisters’ kids and my grandparents and shit.”

“And spend time with my parents,” Taehyung adds, knowing it’s probably the only thing you’re excited about, given how much they adore you and vice versa. “They can’t wait to see you.”

“Same here,” you finally smile. “We’re definitely seeing them first.”

“Anyone else you’re going to see there?” Jin asks some more.

“You can say his name, you know?” You nudge your friend’s knee. “I know he’s who you mean.”

“Well then. Are you going to see Yoongi?”

“I don’t plan on seeing him but I probably will. It’s a big city but it’s a small town. Plus, I’m with Daegu’s Prince right here,” you say, pointing to your best friend who’s made a name for himself as a ballad singer. “Tae will be dragging me around so I won’t be surprised if I encounter Yoongi somehow, somewhere.”

“And what happens when you see him?” Jimin now asks, wanting to know if he’d need to drive to you in case you decide to come home early.

“Then I see him. We’re… fine,” you state, earning you an eye roll from each man, so you clarify. “I mean, I’m perfectly fine living my dream in Seoul. And he’s a college basketball coach in Daegu, which is the closest to his dream he could get, and I heard his team’s doing really well. It’s been 6 years. He let me go. And I’ve moved on. Who knows how it’s gonna be like? But I’m civil with each one of my exes and it won’t be any different with him.”

“He’s different, though,” Jimin points out. “You actually loved him; you can’t say the same for all your exes. And you can’t argue that,” he adds, seeing your shaking head and disagreeing face. “Drunk and hungover you told me all that more than once and I trust that version of you over the sober one when it comes to your love life.”

“Okay, Mr. Know-It-All,” you frown at him. “I wasn’t going to deny that but it was the naive, impulsive, hopeless romantic version of me who loved him. That’s not me anymore. I’ve grown up. I know what I want from my partner, and Yoongi is just the small town boy who’ll always think that his broken dreams will keep him from loving me the way I deserve. And maybe he’s right.”

It’s quiet for a while, as your friends take in your words since you rarely ever talk about the man unless you’re in an inebriated state or recovering from it. But it’s the first time that the possibility of seeing him looms over you, knowing that within those 2 months, you’re bound to run into him somehow.

Now it’s too quiet, and you realize that none of you know what to say since you’re all sober. Truth be told, you don’t remember anything that Jimin’s ever told you during those times that you opened up, and Jin never really said much, knowing how hard that breakup hit you. And Taehyung, well… the man was there before, during, and after it all, yet he never really said much, always choosing to let the silence engulf both of you.

“Look, I’m touched you all seem to be worried,” you finally speak up. “But I’m going to be fine. I found a house I’m renting that’s nice and private. I’m actually excited to eat at my favorite restaurants and visit places I’ve missed. I can’t do anything about my family but at least Tae will be with me the whole time and save me from their madness if he needs to. And Yoongi, well… he’s a closed chapter in my book. There’s no reason to revisit that. Hi, goodbye - that’ll be it, just like before.”

You sigh to yourself, hoping that your friends would take your word for it, though you don’t really blame them if they don’t. They’ve seen you barely bat an eye after calling it quits with your exes but they’ve heard of how broken you were because of that breakup; seeing Yoongi again might just bring up old memories that you might not be ready for. And they won’t all be there to lift you up like they’d want to.

“Okay then, if you say so,” Jin finally smiles. “But if something comes up… you know I can always drive there and bring you back here.”

“And add to the already existing rumors about us being a thing?” You laugh, referring to all the social media fodder about your chemistry that’s too good, it might be real.

“So? Then we let it,” he shrugs.

“Does the Kim Seokjin not care about dating rumors?” You gasp. “You always complained about it. Don’t tell me you like me.”

Jin sits next to you and cups your face in his hands. “I… love you. The way a dear friend who dreamed with you and who gets to live that out with you does. We all love you. We’d do anything for you. You know that, right?”

“I do,” you say, humming once he plants a soft kiss on your forehead, just like all the times he’d done before - when you graduated university, when you didn’t get callbacks, and when you landed your first major role. “Thank you.”

You decide to head out after a long evening. Jimin lists your activities for the next day before he’s dropped off at his apartment. Taehyung lets you listen to his new single for his upcoming album, and you get emotional over his soulful sound and the fact that he gets to live out his dream with you, too.

He walks you to your front door and hugs you tightly, just like all the times he’d done before - when you cried about your family, when Yoongi broke up with you, and when you found out he was dating someone new.

“I love you, okay?” Your best friend whispers.

He says it in that soft, comforting voice of his. The one that always told you that things were gonna be fine, as if love solves all things, and at one point, you believed it did.

Your hometown of Daegu looks very different from the last time you were really here. It changes a lot. And it changes pretty quickly.

But some things about it stay the same - family-run restaurants, streets lined with little shops passed down from generations, the parks and the temples, the playground in your old neighborhood with the basketball court that you know all too well.

They make the place home, Mrs. Kim says. That doesn’t change no matter how far or how long you’ve been away.

You want to disagree. This place was never home. It felt like bits of it during the times you used to watch ballet performances at the Opera House with your mom or when your dad used to grill makchang on Friday nights.

But when she decided to leave and then he remarried, you had just memories of home left. Your sisters’ resentment over your happiness for your mother as she achieved her dreams took all that was remaining, and coming here reminds you more than what you lost; it reminds you of what you can never have - that space to dream, the place of safety, the love that would endure time and distance.

You enjoy the best short ribs dish over Mr. Kim’s recordings of his saxophone performances. Mrs. Kim dotes on you like her own daughter, and Taehyung announces all the things you’ll be doing now that you’re both back home, taking your respective breaks that you deserve, and spending the money that you worked hard for.

You eventually leave for some rest. The house you’re staying at is far from the buzz of the city. It’s private and secure, a little too spacious for one, and boasts of the views of the mountains. Jimin had found it, knowing you’d need the peace and quiet amidst all that would be taking place during your short time here.

Taehyung will be staying over at his parents’ place, but they insist that it’s open for you to visit anytime you want. You think you need the time for yourself, though. Your job often requires you to be around people, and you’re thankful for the choice you have now to be away from them. For some time, at least.

[From: Manager Jung] Are you settled? I’ve got a script for you to go through. Sending it now

Your agent-slash-manager’s message disrupts your moment of tranquility as you sit out at the garden, watching the sun set. You’d arrived from Seoul in time for lunch and spent the rest of the afternoon at Taehyung’s parents’ house before heading to yours.

[To: Manager Jung] Yeah, all good. But give me a week until I read the script. Don’t want to think much about work yet

[From: Manager Jung] Fine. Just don’t take too long

You sigh, knowing that though you promised Jin and Jimin that you won’t be thinking about work while you’re here - you need a break from it all, they told you - your manager won’t really let you. And much as you want to complain about him pushing you real hard, you’re thankful that Jung Hoseok always does.

He was the one who saw your talent and insisted you’ve got a bright future after one casting call that you were almost late for. He was strategic in which roles to pitch you for as a rookie actor, and which ones would get you ahead of the game, no matter how challenging it was. During the times you wondered if you were meant for this industry, he always assured you that you were. There was always going to be a bigger break after the last, he believed, and he promised you he’d go searching for that role until you got the biggest break of your career.

And every time you think he’ll cross the line of pressuring you too much, he says something sweet, brotherly, friendly.

[From: Manager Jung] But take care of yourself there, ok? Don’t let them talk down on you. Don’t let them crush your dreams

You’d cry if his words came with a hug.

[From: Manager Jung] And guard your heart. Don’t let him hurt you again

You pretend he means your father; he let your sisters’ resentment of you go on after all, and his inaction made you feel unloved in your own home.

You don’t want to think that Hoseok means someone else because it would mean that for all the times you questioned if everything you gave up to chase your dream was worth it, then he knew it was because of the man who broke your heart 6 years ago. You don’t want to think that all these years, Hoseok knew that your buzz-worthy dating life, whose aftermath he always had to manage, was just your futile attempt at getting over the first and only man you ever loved.

Being in any sports facility unsettles you. You always claim that the buzz of sporting events just isn’t your cup of tea - you prefer the noise of a film or television set, or of a theater right before the movie starts. It wasn’t always like that, of course. You used to enjoy the screams and heckles of sports fans; you used to be one of them.

But you found out the hard way that losing someone means you lose the parts of you that you’d adopted because of them, that you fall out of love with the things you used to love because of them.

Basketball is one of those things. It’s why Taehyung used to not invite you whenever there were Thunders games at Jamsil despite the free tickets always available for you; he knew you’d say no and he hates rejection.

But Mr. Song is a man you can’t say no to. Not only is he the city’s mayor, he’s also a good friend of your father’s, which is how the chief official got wind of your return.

Your trip isn’t meant to be publicized. Actors take breaks and visit their hometowns regularly without attracting the media, and oftentimes, that’s thanks to the local government, who employs their political will and own security to ensure that celebrities aren’t disturbed while they’re on vacation or just visiting family. It’s good for them, of course, but it also sometimes comes with small favors, like a private dinner with some of their close friends and some photos or autographs. You don’t really mind, especially since the same is extended to Taehyung, hence why the lunch earlier at the mayor’s residence wasn’t all that bad. It was only slightly awkward with your father because you chose to meet up with Taehyung’s family first before yours, but your dad didn’t dwell on it.

Other than privacy, one other thing you get are free courtside Korean Basketball League tickets. The Pegasus just recently moved to Daegu from Incheon and there’d been a lot of promotion to get the city to give their full support to their new hometown team. Mr. Song thinks that photos of you and Taehyung attending the game will be the publicity that the team needs, and while your best friend genuinely agrees to the arrangement, you only do so half-heartedly. You’ll at least see your friends who are playing for the other team, but even the thought of Jungkook and Namjoon being back home and the party they’ll throw after is making you even more unsettled.

“Hmm, number 16 was pretty cute,” you whisper to Taehyung as you head out of the locker room after some photos with the home team. “I wonder if he’ll be at the party tonight.”

“No, he won’t,” your best friend responds.

“Why not? Because he’s from the other team? I’m sure that Jungkook won’t mind, right? I mean, yeah it’s his house but—”

“Tonight is for college friends only.”

“We didn’t even go to their university,” you point out, given that you and Taehyung studied in Seoul and had met there, instantly clicking after finding out you both hailed from the same city. “Why are we going?”

“We are honorary members,” he replies. “I went to high school with them and you…” he trails, trying to figure out how to phrase how you became an honorary member of their group of friends without bringing him up.

“Are the ex of one of their friends,” you finish for him. “You can say it, you know?”

“I don’t know, can I?” He arches a brow.

“Yes. I don’t deny the fact that Yoongi and I dated.”

“You just deny how much it affected you.”

“You mistake my amazing ability of moving on for denial,” you groan. “But oh shit. Wait. Does this mean that he’ll be there at the party?”

Taehyung huffs as he settles in his seat and looks at your worried eyes. “For someone who doesn’t seem to be in denial, you sure look a bit anxious that he might be there tonight. Didn’t you say you can be civil with your exes?”

“Yeah, I can,” you reply defensively. “I don’t know about him. But then again, he moved on first, so I doubt seeing me would affect him much.”

Your best friend lets out a breath, not wanting to argue. He’s learned long ago that when it comes to Yoongi, you’re dead set on many things - like the narrative that he moved on first, that he was so much happier without you, that dreams were always more important for him, whether it was yours or his. Taehyung tried to help you process that whole experience, especially the aftermath, as you went on dating one man after another after you found out about Yoongi dating some local musician.

But you always had a default answer, that you’ve always been that way - quick to fall in love and quick to fall out of it, and Yoongi was no exception. You met, fell in love, and while you technically didn’t fall out of love, the breakup left you no choice but to do just that; he was the one who insisted that you leave, after all, and you’d been the one too heartbroken that he didn’t love you enough to make you stay.

“Well then let’s just see what happens,” Taehyung shrugs. “We’ve got a game to watch, a party to go to, and friends to catch up with.”

“And a nice, peaceful home to retire to after tonight. I’ll need all the good energy before I see the rest of my family tomorrow,” you sigh.

Right, there’s that, Taehyung frowns. Your family’s too complicated that you insist you don’t want him to get sucked into the drama, hence why you don’t want him to go with you. But between that and the possibility of seeing your ex, he could only hope that during this trip, you won’t get your heart broken too early, too quickly, or too hard.

“How is it that the Pegasus have been playing here for months but it’s the first time we’re watching their game live?” Geumjae asks incredulously as he sips his beer.

“Because it’s the first home game of the season against the Thunders when I’m home and when Jungkook and Namjoon don’t have girlfriends to give their tickets to,” Yoongi explains to his older brother. “And well, I never asked before.”

“Well, good on us that you’re here and your friends currently don’t have girlfriends,” Geumjae laughs. “Also, you could totally ask. They’re your friends; I don’t think it would be that hard for them to get extra seats for us.”

“I’m not their only friend here. I’m sure a bunch of the guys from college would ask,” Yoongi shrugs.

“You’re not just their friend, Yoon,” his brother groans. “You played with them, you captained them, and led them to college championships.”

“Yeah, yet I’m the one hustling it out as a college coach while they’re playing pro,” the younger man huffs.

He doesn’t mean to be bitter. He loves those guys, hustled it out with them until the late evenings just to get the proper training and workout in almost a decade ago. He couldn't be any prouder when Jungkook and Namjoon got drafted to professional teams and then reunited as teammates with the Seoul Samsung Thunders just 2 years ago. Yoongi had been the encouraging senior who messaged them right away, happy for his peers for being together again just like old times. He won’t lie and say it didn’t sting a bit to be left out from the life they all dreamed of having, with him being the only one who didn’t get to achieve it alongside them.

“Well, if it matters at all, you’re doing amazing,” Geumjae tries to cheer his brother up. “I read online that many are calling your team to win it all this year. Imagine being the only person in your school’s history to be a champion player and coach? Not just anyone can say that.”

Yoongi hums, trying to let the thought comfort him. It doesn’t do much; coaching a college basketball team is leagues away from playing professionally. The energy is different, so is the hustle. Shooting hoops with the kids during training isn’t the same. The lights and the cheers as he sits on the bench calling plays isn’t the same either. He can at least say that with coaching, he’s able to shape and mentor the young ones, direct them to better paths, encourage them to reach their dreams, and to not settle for a life they’re not happy with or proud of. He’s got a bunch of players who got drafted last year and dedicated their first professional game to him, and that’s an indescribable feeling he’ll always hold onto. It reminds him that even if it wasn’t him, it was at least someone he cared about.

He watches as the players do their warmups on court before the start of the game. This isn’t the first time he’s watched live, but it’s the first time with Jungkook and Namjoon as teammates, so seeing them goof around and do the handshake that they used to do warms his heart a little. Maybe it’s this bit of joy that he needs to remind him that it’s okay, that even if life turned out differently for him, at least basketball is still part of his life. There’s more he wants, of course, but this is way better than nothing. He reminds himself at one point, he didn’t think he could ever set foot on a basketball court again.

The game finally starts and though he’s usually quiet whenever he watches games, he can’t help the small small cheer he makes whenever Jungkook or Namjoon scores or makes crucial plays. He still knows their moves, can still read Jungkook’s pump-fake, and can still tell by Namjoon’s stance if he’s gonna make that rare three. Though he was a shooting guard during his glory days, Yoongi still prides himself in his playmaking skills and knowing his teammates well, something that scouts used to rave about.

Yoongi sips his beer, no doubt enjoying the exciting match. He obviously wants the Thunders to win, but the Pegasus aren’t backing down, not letting themselves trail by more than 8 points. He’s in a bit of a trance, as he lets himself drown in the cheers of the crowd, imagining that it’s him leaving it all out on the court.

But as he looks up on the big screen during timeout, he feels like the air is being sucked out of him. His ears don’t betray them either, as the announcer calls on your name and Taehyung’s - “celebrity sightings,” he says, while you and your best friend wave to the camera and smile like the superstars that you both are. The cheers get louder and Geumjae joins them until he realizes.

“Shit, that’s your ex-girlfriend,” he whisper-shouts. He laughs at the scene of his brother practically choking on his drink. “Wow, she still has that effect on you, huh?”

“No, she doesn’t,” Yoongi says nonchalantly, desperately forcing his heart to slow its beating.

“Did you know she’s gonna be here?”

“I don’t keep tabs on her whereabouts, Geumjae,” he replies, suddenly sounding hard, defensive.

“Do you think she’s gonna be at the party?”

Fuck, the party, Yoongi slightly panics. Jungkook talked about the sort of reunion he’s throwing at his house after the game. Their old teammates will be there, as well as some other friends from college who are still in the city. You and Taehyung were honorary members of that group and Yoongi knows that you’re both invited, too.

“I guess,” he merely shrugs, looking like it doesn’t bother him much.

It shouldn’t. It’s been 6 years, and while he’d been the one to break it off, you’re the one who’s dated a lot since then, something he can’t fault you for. You’d obviously catch a lot of attention - you did catch his - not just for your charm and unbelievable beauty but for your talent as well. He’s not surprised that you’re rumored to be dating Kim Seokjin, said to be this decade’s most desired leading man and who also happens to be your good friend, the one who’d helped you out a lot during your years in university. Yoongi used to be a little jealous then, something he never told you, and well, he guesses it’s meant to be with you and Seokjin now, a man he could probably never live up to.

“Are you gonna be okay?” Geumjae breaks through his thoughts.

“Yeah. Why won’t I be?” Yoongi huffs, sinking back to his seat to watch the game that suddenly isn’t so interesting anymore.

His question is left unanswered and his brother resumes his cheers, no doubt invested in this match that’s now tied. But Yoongi drifts in and out, his eyes following the players up and down the court then mindlessly landing on you. You’re seated in a relaxed manner, the opposite to how you used to watch his games. He sees you silently cheer for the Thunders, too, and you giggle at Taehyung when you scream louder than you intended, your hand covering your mouth as you lean on your friend and he laughs along.

He could hear the sound of your laughter from across the gymnasium, as if the way the dulcet tone of your voice used to send shivers down his spine whenever you giggled in his ears was just yesterday. He shakes off the goosebumps he feels and tries to sit comfortably on the chair.

“Are you nervous?” Geumjae asks. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“Since when was I ever loud during a basketball game?” He shoots his brother an incredulous look.

“You may not make a sound but your body does,” the older man points out. “I could feel you buzzing earlier and cheering in that Yoongi way of yours but now,” he eyes him up and down, “your legs are just bouncing. And you're biting your nails again.”

Yoongi catches himself. He forces his leg to be still and tucks his hand under it. It’s a tell he has, and he has no doubt that his brother has caught on. Still, he lies. “The game’s close. I want the Thunders to win.”

“Really? That’s what you’re going with?”

“Yes, now can we just focus on the game?” Yoongi chides, not wanting to confirm whatever his brother’s suspicions are.

“Fine, but for the record, I know exactly why you’re nervous.”

“I don’t really care.”

Geumjae sighs as he watches his brother’s gaze go to you once more, unknowingly, perhaps, as Yoongi seems to shake himself off after every time he realizes that his eyes were locked on your direction. But he can’t blame the younger man. You entered his life and he fell, extremely hard, and letting you go was the most difficult thing he ever had to do. Yoongi doesn’t need to tell him though, but there’s enough of his younger brother’s broken pieces lying around for Geumjae to know that it was also something he regretted doing, and he wishes his brother was at least brave enough to admit all that.

The Thunders win by 5 points. It was nail-biting until the very end. It was Namjoon’s crucial offensive rebound and Jungkook’s 3-point shot that sealed the game for them, and Yoongi was present enough to witness those last few plays. He decides to enjoy this moment with his friends, knowing they’d be asking him about it later. If he’ll still go to the party. Somehow, seeing you again made him a little dizzy. It was still on the screen, but now he’s not sure he’ll know what to do when he sees you in person.

He and his brother let the crowds go before heading out separately. Geumjae’s car is parked elsewhere, and Yoongi decides to head to the washroom and pace his walk to the parking lot. Hands on his pockets and eyes glued to the floor, he hears a gasp, and he releases one himself when he sees you, hiding behind one of the vending machines as a group of fans at the end of the hallways starts walking towards your direction, wondering aloud where you went.

He sees the panicked look in your eyes and decides to stop the crowd before they come any closer.

“She headed that way,” he announces, pointing to the right. “There’s an exit there. She probably left already.”

You hear the disappointed sighs, and much as you don’t want to let your fans down - you’re not one to deny them autographs - there have been too many of them this afternoon and you weren’t mentally prepared to accommodate each one of them. The footsteps disappear not long after and you let out a sigh of relief. That was close, but you didn’t expect Yoongi, of all people, to be the one to stir them away.

You turn to him, about to say your thanks, but somehow the words get stuck in your throat. You recall being a giddy mess the very first time you saw him, with nibbled lips and palpitating heart as you watched him shoot baskets and dribble the ball like no one’s business, and you’d been a goner since then. But he was a lot thinner during that time. His hair was cut short and his eyes had this sharp, confident gaze that usually intimidated people. You eventually saw how they softened only for you, though, but you’ll always remember that summer and how he had you wanting him at first glance.

This man before you isn’t all that different. He still has the same sharp eyes, with his look penetrating right through your soul like he knows you and well, he does, which is also why he was quick to misdirect the crowd after he perhaps saw the look of worry on your face. His tiny nose is the same, so is his pale skin. But his hair is now long, pushed back in the middle as it softly reaches close to his shoulders. He’s a lot leaner; you can easily tell from what’s hiding behind his thin white shirt underneath his blue jacket. You recall him dressing mostly in monotone colors, so seeing him in something a little more striking is new. He’s gorgeous just like before, and you don’t really know why you expected that he wouldn’t render you speechless this time around.

“___,” he calls out. “Were they bothering you?”

“No, uh…” you stutter, hating yourself for suddenly being nervous. “There were just too many of them and they were getting quite close, I kind of panicked. Stupid, really. I should be used to it by now. More of them came and I just…”

“If they were invading your personal space then that’s not right,” he says, his tone so serious you mistake it for worry. “Did they touch you or anything?”

“Oh no! Nothing like that. I just got a bit overwhelmed.”

“Where’s Taehyung?” He asks, as you watch him walk to the vending machine where you’re hiding, tap his card, and then get the bottled water that falls out. He opens it and hands it to you as if he’d done this so many times before, and well, he actually has.

“He met up with a couple of friends,” you explain. “The crowd got to me right after and I kinda lost him, but I told him I’ll meet him outside, somewhere near where the players come out.”

“Hmm, okay,” Yoongi hums, looking away.

He should’ve expected you to look way more beautiful up close but he tends to overestimate his ability to be entranced by you. He’s surprised he even got any word out, but the worry crept in the moment he saw you look a little winded and he just wanted to make sure you were alright. You’re a celebrity, after all, and the city’s “Princess,” as they claim.

You look a little nervous though, and a part of him just wants to scold Taehyung for leaving you behind, seeing as neither of you looked like you had security with you earlier. But that shouldn’t be his responsibility anymore, he reminds himself.

“Thanks for the water, by the way,” you speak up. “How much was it?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks again,” you smile shyly. “So, uhm, do you know where the other exit is? I’m kind of lost.”

“Oh, uh… the one close to where the players go out is there,” he cocks his head to the left, towards a hallway behind swinging doors. “I can uh, I can show you where.”

“Ah, that would be great. Did you park close there, too?”

No.

“Yeah,” he lies. “Let’s go before more people see you.”

He opens the door and walks after you. It doesn’t help that the hallway suddenly feels much smaller and closed off because now, Yoongi has to listen to your footsteps and nothing else, since neither one of you chooses to talk.

What does he say to the woman he broke up with 6 years ago? Maybe he can say something about your recently concluded series. He thought it was really good. Is it weird to ask what your next project is? Perhaps. You probably can’t even tell him. How was it like being the leading lady this time? Fuck, he’s not a talk show host or anything like that.

He sees the end of the hallway before his mind can come up with another stupid question, and he rushes to the door before you do, catching you by surprise.

“Just wanted to make sure there’s no one to bother you,” he explains, as you exit the building with questioning eyes.

“Oh, thanks,” you smile shyly again.

He’s not used to it. He remembers the way your eyes used to gaze at him constantly, how your smile and laughter were all cheeky and flirty, how the tone of your voice was always so confident, so charming. He thinks that maybe like him, you’re just as surprised and unsure about seeing each other after so long. He doesn’t know what to make of things beyond that.

“Do you have someone to pick you up?” he asks, needing to prepare himself if, as a last resort, he’d need to drive you somewhere.

“Yeah, Tae and I were supposed to ride together but,” you pause, checking your phone for your best friend’s text message, “he rode off with his friends and said he’d meet me at Jungkook’s instead so I’m just waiting for the guys. There’s the—”

Party, Yoongi says in his head.

“___!” Jungkook’s loud voice cuts you off. He jogs up to you and puts an arm around your shoulders, unaware of the man in front of you who’s being blocked by a wall. “You ready to go? Tae said he went ahead.”

Yoongi makes his presence known with a low grunt, his eyes pacing from his friend to you. You both look a lot closer than he remembers, and Yoongi’s mind goes to that first time you all met, how Jungkook had announced during their team celebration that the “girl with the yellow scarf on her hair is so pretty” and that he’d wanted to ask you out. Of course, things turned out differently - you weren’t interested in the younger man. But that was years ago. Jungkook has had an impressive professional career and he lives in Seoul. Maybe things have changed for you.

You follow Yoongi’s eyes. Despite many people claiming that he’s difficult to read because of the default unconcerned, almost detached look he has for every situation, you think he’s actually pretty transparent.

Or maybe that’s just you. You’ve spent enough time with him to know his sound of annoyance and the meaning of his body language. You’ve memorized that pretty face of his at one point that you can tell the slightest parting of his lips and the tiniest drop of his eyes, which could mean that he’s confused, sad, or disappointed. Maybe all.

“Oh, we’re not…” you exclaim, surprising yourself, to the amusement of Namjoon, who suddenly appears next to you. “I mean, Jungkook and I aren’t… a thing.”

You promptly remove the man’s arm from your shoulder and try to decipher Yoongi’s look now. Is it relief? Does he believe you? Does he think it’s silly that you had to clarify that, which you’re wondering why you did?

“Okay,” Yoongi says.

Perhaps you’re wrong. You can’t tell right now what he’s feeling.

“We just… got to hanging out when I got drafted by the Thunders,” Jungkook now clarifies, which he quickly realizes is maybe making this awkward situation a lot worse.

You’re Yoongi’s ex-girlfriend after all, and Jungkook had been the one to reach out to you when he moved to Seoul, but not once did he try to pursue you all these years. He respects his captain too much and cares for what you both had, which is why he maintained his friendship with you even after the breakup.

“That’s nice to know,” Yoongi replies, his tone nonchalant like always.

He’s glad he can keep his cool that well, even if his heart was just about to explode at the thought of you possibly dating his friend. He doesn’t know why he cares, though, as he never really thought much about the so-called code that stated that exes were off-limits to friends.

He’s just about to turn around when Namjoon calls out. “Min, you’re still going to the party, right?”

Yoongi looks at you, who promptly looks away. Up until 10 minutes ago, he was about 80% sure he would. He didn’t think that being in close proximity to you would make him remember all sorts of things, and that itself is enough for him to run for the hills and avoid you. He won’t claim he did his best to forget about you - he at least tried, and that still counts - but he didn’t expect he’d ever get a chance to be near you, much less talk to you and be in the same place as you. Again.

But he looks at his friends’ eyes, both pairs unsure yet practically begging him to still go. He remembers these looks, and he swears it’s because he doesn’t want to let both of them down that he battles with the inner part of himself and decides to still go. It definitely doesn’t have anything to do with somehow finding out for how long you’re staying, and why you’re here in the first place.

“Yeah. I’ll see you guys there,” he replies, turning around now and heading towards his car on the opposite side of the parking lot.

You watch Yoongi walk away, unsure of why your heart is beating as fast as it is. It had been like that since you saw him after hiding from the fans, and even more so when you walked silently in the hallway to head outside.

You knew you were gonna see him, maybe even at the party, but not in the way you did. And all your confidence at not being bothered or affected with seeing him again melts away.

You weren’t prepared for how good he’d look, for how concerned he’d be over your safety, and for that hint of disappointment on his face at the thought of you being with Jungkook. Neither were you prepared for that incredibly tiny part of you that wants to know how he’s doing and if he’d managed to piece together the broken parts of himself and his dream that he so adamantly chose over you.

You survive the car ride by glaring at Namjoon every time he starts teasing you about panicking over Yoongi thinking that you were dating Jungkook, while the latter curses as he drives, claiming he survived one of the scariest moments of his life.

You arrive in Jungkook’s house in half an hour, a nice place he bought for himself because he said that Daegu will always be home for him. The sliding doors to the patio give it a spacious feel, and you see that a couple of his friends had already prepped the space, complete with beer kegs and beer pong tables, the way you remember they always used to party.

The 3 of you spot Taehyung who greets you, and the 2 men next to you proceed to narrate what happened, to your best friend’s shock and amusement. You also fill all of them in with the first part of the story about Yoongi finding you as you hid away from the crowd.

“How… symbolic,” Namjoon hums. “You meet at a basketball court in Daegu after a game while you were hiding from fans because you’re such a bigtime actress now. I mean, it’s quite ironic. The universe is out to tease you or something.”

You agree, it is. It’s times like this when you wish you didn’t believe in fate and destiny because doing so would just give you false hope that you and Yoongi may be meant for more than just those 2 years together. And you absolutely hate it because you can’t fall into that trap of thinking that you’re meant for a happy ending that includes him. That ship sailed a long time ago - 6 years and about 5 partners later.

But as Yoongi enters the house, his bowed head turning up to search the area before daintily tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, you start to think that maybe that ship decided to turn back around and sail towards you once again. He briefly meets your eyes before someone calls out to him, and you’re left to admire him from afar, cute button nose and impeccable side profile and all.

Taehyung pulls you by the arm and whispers in your ear. “Okay, so what’s our plan?”

“What do you mean, our plan?” You ask, realizing you’ve lost Yoongi as you glance in the direction of where he was, no longer finding him there. “Plan for what?”

“Yoongi, obviously,” Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Do we avoid him, be civil, pretend you don’t think about him anymore, or act like the past 8 years didn’t happen and we don’t actually know him?”

“None of the above,” you groan. “What kinds of options are those?”

“Decent ones?”

“Nope. You’ve already had a lot to drink and I don’t trust you when you’re drunk.”

“Except you should. This is when I don’t hold back when it comes to you,” Taehyung answers.

“And you hold back otherwise?” You frown.

“Just when it’s about him. It was tough for a long time. I know sometimes it still is.”

You don’t have the heart to disagree. This man has been your best friend for a decade and he knows how you are, knows which pains of yours you’re willing to talk about and which ones you’d rather hide away. Your acting skills may be good but you know that Taehyung can see behind all the smiles and the detachment and the effort to look okay, and whatever it is he’s thinking, there’s a good chance he might be right. You’ve just never been brave enough to admit them.

The look of understanding you both share gets disrupted when cheers erupt in the middle of the living room, seeing that Seungkwan had just beaten Jungkook in beer pong. The pro player demands a rematch and the entire house cheers in agreement. Jungkook takes the next game but Seungkwan won’t back down.

“Let’s do it in pairs,” he challenges. “I take Joon.”

“Fine,” Jungkook says, his game face on, knowing there’s one other person he knows could win this with him. “I take the Captain.”

Cheers erupt once more as people push Yoongi to the center where the rest of the guys are. He shakes his head, seemingly uninterested in partaking in tonight’s festivities but goes anyway after much coaxing from everyone. He then does his handshake with Jungkook to the younger man’s insistence, and you watch Yoongi’s soft, shy smile appear.

And just like the very first time you saw that, you feel your heart thrum in excitement. There was always something special about it, and back then it was because he rarely did it, but he did it a lot when he was with you. It’s nice to see it during a moment like this - surrounded by his old friends while having fun with them. You’re glad he shows more of it now, and you wonder how many people fell harder for him because of it.

You watch from the sideline as the Jungkook-Yoongi pair score 4 straight. Seungkwan complains that Namjoon isn’t making any shots, prompting the older man to claim that he’s way better at dunking than shooting tiny balls like they’re jumpers. They eventually lose after all the theatrics but it’s enough to get the guests going, as you find yourself teasing both men as well.

You remember their house parties being this rowdy and this loud, given all the energy and testosterone that these athletes had so much of. That obviously hasn’t changed, and despite all of them having grown up, looking all mature and much more respectable, the naughtiness remains, especially once they’ve had too much to drink.

It’s why you find yourself surrounded by a bunch of the guys, asking for a photo with you to show off to their friends and families.

“I’m showing this to the guys at the office,” Seungkwan announces as he gets your approval over the selfie picture he took of you both. “They’re not gonna believe I went to college with an actress.”

“Uh, I didn’t go to college with you,” you laugh along with the others. “I studied in Seoul.”

“Then how the fuck do we know you?” He exclaims, no doubt drunk out of his mind at this point. You remember him having a short-term memory every time.

“He’s the Captain’s ex, dumbo!” Soon-young reminds him, another one of the younger guys who hasn’t drank as much but was never good at knowing what not to say. “Remember the summer before his final year? She was with us all the time.”

“Oh right. They were inseparable and looked so in love,” Seungkwan giggles, and at this point, the rest of the people just go with what he’s saying.

Not you though, neither does Yoongi, and neither does Namjoon, who slaps the back of Seungkwan’s head to loud-whisper that the ex-couple in question is right there.

“Shit, did they hear me?” Seungkwan wonders out loud and looks around before sipping his beer. “I meant it though.”

He laughs drunkenly, so do many others. There’s really only a handful of you who aren’t intoxicated, but right now you wish you were.

“Wait, they’re both here?” Seungkwan recovers, eyes now glassy.

He gasps when his gaze turns to you and then Yoongi, and he puts his arm over your shoulder and slightly drags you to the right so he could put his arm over Yoongi, too.

“I found them!” Seungkwan squeals, pushing both of you to face him. “Shit, you still look good together.”

“Alright, dude, that’s enough,” Namjoon finally steps in, pulling the inebriated man away. “Sorry,” he turns to you. “Don’t mind anything he said.”

Too late, you want to say, but you release an awkward laugh instead.

“They haven’t changed since college, huh,” Yoongi says, surprising you. “They still put us on the spot then leave us to deal with the aftermath,” he continues, watching as the group disperses to go drink and chat again.

You turn towards him and sigh in relief over the small smile he has on. You swear the tension was so thick earlier that you could cut it with a knife, but Yoongi doesn’t seem bothered. He looks calm like he always does, and just like those first few times, you take your cue from him. You try to release the tension from your body and smile.

“They should be banned from drinking when there are ex-lovers in the building,” you chuckle. “But I’m pretty sure he’ll be apologizing to you like crazy once he’s sober. Wish I could see that.”

“I can’t wait for that, too,” Yoongi hums.

A wave of silence envelopes you both. The sounds of your friends seem like white noise now, and with the background music on and the man next to you just sipping his drink, it’s oddly comforting.

You learned long ago that he has this amazing ability to do that - make people around them feel calm. There’s something so reassuring about him that remarks about your past don’t faze him, and now that’s rubbing off on you, as you feel the awkwardness slowly melt away.

You and Yoongi stand by the couch while the world around you continues. You’d stay in this bubble with him if it wasn’t so familiar, only because the familiarity scares you a little. You don’t want to know if anything else feels the same.

“I’m gonna look for Tae,” you say, breaking the silence.

You only need to look to your left at the sound of someone hooting to find your best friend downing another cup of some concoction, and by the sound of his laugh, you know this is the one that will do it for him. This is his point of no return. Anything he does after is not meant for many people to see; he has an image to protect, after all.

“Alright, that’s my cue,” you say, walking towards him.

You cup Taehyung’s face in your hands and tell him that the party’s over and you’ll take him home. He argues, but you remind him that he’s a celebrity and that he can’t have drunk pictures of him circulating online. His inebriated mind sort of gets it, and you take him in your arms and start looking around, trying to see which of the guys are the most stable one to drive.

“How are you going home?”

“Uh…” you turn to face Yoongi. “One of… them? Jungkook, Wooz, Soon-young all offered.”

“And they’ve all had a lot to drink,” he replies.

“Who here hasn’t?” You chuckle, eyes still searching the room. You don’t want to ask your safest option, which is the man in front of you. You’re not quite sure how your heart can handle that.

“Me,” he says so casually. “I just had one bottle.”

You know what he means, even more when he goes to Taehyung’s side to help you assist your drunk best friend. Yoongi doesn’t say anything else though; he just stands there while waiting for your reply. This is about safety, you remind yourself, and it has nothing to do with suddenly wanting to be in his presence just a little longer.

“Okay,” you reply, knowing he knows what you mean, too.

“Okay.”

All three of you say goodbye to your friends, all of whom give you smug looks, passing up on the teasing now given Yoongi’s displeased face after someone remarks that “mom and dad are taking care of their kid again.” This isn’t a new scene for them, either. Taehyung just tends to have a lot of genuine fun when he’s with his friends; it’s something you relate with after being in the industry you’re in.

You and Yoongi help Taehyung in the backseat where you sit, with your best friend’s head securely on your lap because he’s now complaining of a migraine. Your designated driver starts the car shortly after he checks on both of you.

“Neither of you took your cars?” He asks.

“Tae did but passed up on driving tonight,” you say. “I would’ve driven, had I known he won’t be able to control himself. I’m still waiting for my requested rental car.”

Yoongi merely hums and focuses on the road while you… well, while you sort of focus on him. Your position behind the passenger seat allows you a view from the side - from how his fingers drum the steering wheel to how he nibbles his lips. His eyes are focused on the road but you can tell he’s focused on both of you, too, with the way he turns to the back whenever Taehyung makes some garbled sound or just to ask you if you’re okay.

You watched him do this so many times before with you next to him, holding his hand and kissing his cheek at every stoplight. For someone who loves music, he never put the radio on when he drove you. He said it allowed him to focus on you, and that memory isn’t one that you really want to think of right now, especially since it’s silent in the car. You don’t know which ones you’d rather remember, though - the good ones or the bad. You suppose either would hurt regardless, and this wasn’t something that you prepared for.

You make it to your best friend’s house as you and Yoongi assist him to the gate to Mrs. Kim’s shock. She scolds a barely-awake Taehyung and apologizes profusely to Yoongi, who says she’s happy to see him in their home once again. As Mr. Kim takes his son up to his room, Yoongi turns to you and asks if you need a ride home.

“I’m sleeping over,” you say in a panic. “Someone’s got to take care of his drunk ass.”

“Okay,” Yoongi says, briefly meeting your eyes before nodding towards his car. “I’ll go ahead. It was nice seeing you again, ___.”

They’re simple words that any old friend would tell another after seeing them in years, but somehow they hit you differently. This entire evening hasn’t been a dream or some made up scenario in your head where you meet the man you loved after so long.

He’s here. With you. Looking at you in a way you’re very unfamiliar with - with a calmness in his eyes and a hint of care and acceptance, as if he’s glad you’re here but that he’s well aware of the years between you, of the years that passed by, of the years that changed you both.

You don’t respond fast enough because before you know it, he’s turning around, ready to head out the door.

“It was nice seeing you, too, Yoongi,” you say softly.

But he hears it, stops walking for a while, and then opens the door and walks out.

You wonder if he’d said something the day you left, would you have stopped and turned around? Or would you have kept walking?

But thinking about that won’t do you any good, so you turn away as well and head upstairs.

Outside, Yoongi steps on the gas, turns to the next corner, and then stops the car. He clasps his hands together so they’d stop shaking, and he lets himself breathe for the first time tonight. He’s kept his cool long enough, but after everything - the party, the teasing, the car ride - he doesn’t think he can hold the emotions in any longer, and he doesn’t even know what they are.

Longing? Sadness? Regret? Is it the unspeakable feeling of fear at the thought of you dating one of his friends who might actually be good for you? Is it relief at the idea that letting you go was the best thing that he could’ve ever done for you? Is it confusion over wanting so badly to take you in his arms but not wanting to feel your touch, knowing it would remind him of everything he’s tried to forget?

Yoongi lays his head on the headrest and takes a breath. You’re so beautiful, as if some light shines on you wherever you go. It’s probably the glow you emit; he’s told you that before but you always said he was just teasing. He sees it even more now.

But it’s also the crinkle of your eyes when you smile that sweet smile of yours that makes things feel familiar, and because of that, uneasy. It’s that honey sound of your voice; he heard it as you laughed during the party and joked around with everyone. It’s that captivating look you have, the one that says you know something but you want to know more; he felt that look when he entered the house and as he drove you earlier.

He wonders if you saw past him, past his nonchalance and calm demeanor. You were always so good at that - knowing there was more behind his passiveness, knowing how to get a reaction from him, knowing which buttons to push so he’d open up and let you in.

He doesn’t know if he should be afraid that you still know how to do it, or if he should revel in it because he’s missed you, more than he could ever say and more than he’d ever care to admit.

But beyond all that, he’s sure that one of his emotions is happiness. Every time you talked about work and being able to watch yourself on screen - he swears he didn’t eavesdrop but that he just happened to be there - there was that excitement that felt like the continuation from when you used to talk about your big dreams with him.

You got what you wanted and you worked hard to get to where you are and he knows you’re proud of yourself and that’s all he’s ever wanted. Seeing that smile - he knows. Letting you go was the best thing he’s ever done for you.

“What are you doing here?”

Taehyung’s hoarse voice forces your eyes off the ceiling onto your side where he’s currently hugging his pillow, messy hair and pouty lips on display.

“Trying to get some rest after I saved your drunk ass last night,” you bitterly respond. “I got to you before any compromising photos or videos were taken. You’re welcome.”

“Hmm, thanks,” he groans. “But uh, why are you here? Didn’t you say you wanted proper rest in your house before seeing your family today?”

“Right, uh… you see. Yoongi drove us here, and then he asked if I wanted a ride home but I kinda panicked and said I’m sleeping over so… Here I am!” You laugh, unconvincingly. “My rental car’s on the way here. I’ll drive to my house and then go to my dad’s.”

“Ugh, you’re so dumb,” he says, sinking into his comforter. You gasp in response. “That was your chance to be alone with him but you didn’t take the offer. We both know you wanted to.”

“Tae, being drunk and not holding anything back doesn’t mean you can just assume things like that,” you respond, sitting up and frowning at him. “I didn’t want to be alone with him, that’s why I’m here!”

“Why didn’t you want to be alone with him?” He answers back.

“Uhm, why would I want to?” You ask incredulously. “Since when was getting in a car alone with an ex ever a good idea?”

“Why? You’re afraid you’d kiss him if you did?”

You scowl at your best friend. “I should’ve left you there drunk with possible penis drawings on your face.”

“Just being honest. It’s not like you’ve never done that with him before,” he shrugs.

“I hate you.”

“I know. But you’ll love me later on. At least I’m still half asleep.”

You push him awake, the stress heightening now as the previous night plays in your head.

“Tae! What happened to my hi, goodbye plan?!” You groan. “I was literally just supposed to say hi and then be civil, like, acknowledge his presence but not be affected by it. But then we had some small talk and he drove us home.”

“We all know it was a denial plan,” he huffs. “It was bound to fail.”

“Gee, thanks. You’re being incredibly helpful right now,” you frown again.

“Fine,” he grumbles, sitting now. “You had small talk, he drove you here. How are those affecting you and why are you making it a big deal?”

“I’m not making it a big deal,” you point out.

“You kinda are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You are because that’s how things started before. And you’re afraid that one small misstep will cause you to fall for him all over again, fast and hard, because that’s how you are when it comes to him.”

“You’re hungover and tired so your judgment is impaired,” you say, crossing your arms. “You remember what happened after all that. I’ll be perpetually grateful that you never pushed me to talk about it unless I was drunk and couldn’t remember things but I was heartbroken, Tae. And then I was numb. It took a while before I started to feel again.”

“I know,” he says, taking you in his arms now as he holds you like a baby - a rare occurrence, as this often happens the other way around. “And I can never fault you for it because even if it was like that summer fling that only happened in the movies, I know you loved him, genuinely and intensely, and a love like that stays with you. But he’s got a good life here, ___, and you’ve got an amazing one in Seoul. You just have to remember why it didn’t work out in the first place and make sure you don’t fall into that trap again. Just… acknowledge that. For your sake. And then do what you need to do so you don’t make the same mistakes again.”

Enveloped in his warmth, you take in your best friend’s words. He may still be hungover and may also be confused but his comfort never seizes, and it’s one of the reasons why you love him dearly.

“So yeah, good on you I guess for not taking that ride with him. Maybe staying away and keeping your distance might be good,” he adds.

Your silence somehow alarms him, so he nudges you. “It’s a good idea, right?”

“I don’t know. Suddenly I feel like staying away and keeping my distance will let him know that it still affects me. He’ll always know me like that,” you sigh, hugging him tightly for more comfort. “And there’s this part of me that wants to show him that I’m fine, you know? That even with everything that happened between us, I walked away from it knowing what I deserve, and that’s someone who’ll fight through life with me. He didn’t and that’s on him but he had his reasons, and looking back, maybe he was right. Maybe he had to let me go, and maybe - because I loved him genuinely and intensely - I want to show him that it wasn’t all in vain. And that I’m happy. Even without him.”

“You don’t need to prove anything to him, you know?”

Maybe I want to prove it to myself, you don’t say. There’s a stubbornness in you that doesn’t go away.

“This isn’t about him, is it?” Taehyung levels his head with you.

For someone hungover, he still knows you pretty well.

You just sigh and fall back in his arms. He doesn’t push you. He just hugs you again until you both fall back in bed and he can comfortably curl his body all over you because it’s Taehyung and he likes to do this.

“Just be careful, alright?” He pleads.

“You know I also kinda don’t have a choice,” you reply. “It’s a small town and we’re bound to see each other. Jungkook and Namjoon have a game here again in a few weeks and that means another get together.”

“Yeah, but you know what I mean.”

You hum. “Promise me you’ll be by my side whatever happens?”

“Always, you stubborn woman. I’m the one person who’ll never leave you even if you push me away.”

The lunch with your family is how you expect it to go - with your older sisters making some backhanded comments about your fame and how you’ve been “too busy” to even visit, and your father trying to dissolve the tension. He’s at least genuinely curious about how you’ve been, asking if you’re eating well and getting enough rest. Your stepmom raves about your drama series and shares that she cried during the finale.

“Why did he have to go back to his planet?” Garam’s 7-year old asks after your stepmom narrates what happened.

“His time on earth was up,” you explain. “He finished his mission and he had to leave.”

“But why didn’t he stay if he was happy?”

“Because he had a responsibility in his home,” you smile. “He wasn’t made for this world.”

“He didn’t have a choice, sweetie,” Garam adds after her daughter comments that it was sad. “That’s understandable. Some people leave because they’re no longer happy with those around them. Or because their dreams are more important than those they supposedly love. Isn’t that sadder?”

“It is. Don’t leave me, Mama,” the little one pouts.

“Oh sweetie, I never will. I don’t leave people that I love,” Garam responds, glancing at you to make a statement.

You zone out after that, not wanting to engage with your sisters anymore. You play with their kids, though, who get excited when they see you on TV. You don’t want to treat them like you hold a grudge against them even if you do so with their mothers. Your sisters continue to do that with you - resent you when it’s your mom they’re really angry at for leaving your already unhappy family after she got her dream job in Paris. You were never angry though but you did sort of follow in her footsteps, and your sisters hated you even more because of that.

“Are you staying for dinner?” Your father asks, the hope in his eyes hurting you.

Things weren’t going well with your parents for a while, giving your mom more reason to leave, but you always wished that he had done more for you to feel loved in the home that started to become toxic after it fell apart, but you suppose he was just trying to heal his own broken heart after his wife left. It felt like your sisters weren’t going to forgive you when you decided to leave yourself, and he just let you walk away without making sure you knew he still loved you despite your decision.

He’s moved on now, though, and happy with someone who prioritizes him and his needs. But too much time and distance can pull people apart - you can see them without the desire of being with them. That’s the reality with you and him now and there’s not much you can do about it.

“No, I’ve got other plans,” you respond, glancing at your sisters who return your look with bitterness. “I’ll see you at grandpa’s tomorrow.”

You drive around for half an hour with no destination in mind. It’s nice to see how much this place has changed and discover which parts of it still feel the same.

You pass by an antique shop - the antique shop, a generations-old family-run store that used to be the hub of imported furniture that the townspeople once flocked to. It’s now a speciality store that still sells one-of-a-kind items but it also refurbishes old pieces. You see a poster on the window that’s promoting woodworking workshops. You won’t be surprised to find out whose idea that was.

A man briefly exits, and you stop near the front, wanting to just take it in. He’s got more gray hair now and walks a little slower but he looks just like you remembered - soft crinkled eyes, comforting smile, a look that you know all too well. You decide to enter, as you’re desperate for something - anything - that feels more like home than the one you just came from.

“May I help you?” The man asks.

“A greeting and a hug would do,” you look up at him and smile.

“___?!” He gasps, walking outside the counter to get closer to you. “Is that really you, my dear?”

“Yes it is, Mr. Min,” you smile, returning the hug that you requested. “Just passing by my favorite antique shop in town. How are you doing?”

“Great! Business is stable and I’ve still got a lot of fight in me to continue,” he chuckles. “How about you? The big city treating you good?”

“It is,” you reply. “I think I’m doing quite okay there.”

“Ah, well it should be treating you amazingly. That’s what you deserve.”

You continue the conversation, with you asking about his latest projects and him, talking about his furniture and wood like his children, pride laced in his voice every time. He asks you about your latest series and if you’ve met his favorite actors and you indulge him. His laughter is music to your ears. You remember spending time here where he worked on his pieces while you talked about your favorite movies.

“Does my son know you’re here?” He asks after a beat of silence.

“He does. I saw him last night. He looks well.”

“He does, doesn’t he? It took a while but he’s doing much better than before - smiling, joking around, helping me at the shop, talking about basketball again. It’s nice to see.”

The words hit you in ways you didn’t expect. Breaking up with Yoongi was tough to get over. Those last few months had been incredibly hard and so many times you thought that maybe if you’d been more patient, maybe things would’ve turned out differently.

But you remember how during those last days with him, he’d lost the glimmer in his eyes and the softness of his smile. Not even you could bring those back. His passion for things just dwindled; he stopped wanting more, stopped wanting you, stopped thinking that things could still work out for him after what he suffered through.

You’d kept in touch with Namjoon and Jungkook at their insistence, and they’d been the one to update you on how Yoongi was doing. Not a lot of details but just general things like the jobs he took and that he was keeping himself busy and that he was trying to get back on the court. It wasn’t with unpleasant stories, though - you learned about his new girlfriend from them, and that he didn’t play basketball for awhile, and that during the toughest days, he considered giving it up altogether.

You knew he’d done well. You learned that from the guys, too. But hearing it from his father is different; you can’t imagine how it must’ve been like for Mr. Min to see his son start to change from what he used to be. But you know that as the good father that he is, he made sure that Yoongi knew he wasn’t alone.

“And that’s good to hear,” you say. “Yoongi deserves all the happiness this world can give. I’m glad that he’s found his joy in basketball again it seems. And that he found it here.”

“He has, but I guess something will always be missing. He’s a lot better but he’s not the same. A parent would know, you know? The flame doesn’t shine as bright,” Mr. Min answers, the tinge of sadness in his eyes hurting you a little.

But you just nod. His words seem to mean more but you don’t want to know what it is.

“Dad, what did you want me to look at?”

Yoongi’s voice echoes in the shop and you can’t help but turn to him who’s just entered and looks as shocked as his father was earlier.

You have a soft smile on, and Mr. Min knows not to intervene.

“Oh, nothing,” he says, thinking that the new wood he acquired could wait. “Just watch over the counter for me while I check something inside, alright Son?”

He doesn’t let the younger man answer and just heads to the back, leaving you and Yoongi alone. He walks closer but keeps his distance. It’s enough for you to appreciate the softness of his face, though. His presence had always been reassuring; you see him twice and you’ve felt more comfort with him than you have in months. You don’t know how he does it, but that shouldn’t surprise you anymore. This isn’t the first time anyway.

“Is Taehyung alright?” He breaks the silence.

“Recovering, but more from his parents giving him shit for drinking too much,” you chuckle. “He got an earful and Mrs. Kim said she won’t let him in the house next time he gets that drunk. He’s doing chores as punishment.”

“Ah, well it’s been a while. It was nice to spend time with everyone again.”

“It was,” you smile now.

“And you? Are you okay?” He asks, sincerity laced in his low voice.

“Yeah, of course.”

It’s the hesitant nod and the way your eyes look at anything but him, and he knows that whatever happened after last night is something you want to forget or seek comfort for. So he asks.

“So what made you come here? To the shop, I mean.”

“I was driving around. It didn’t register to me right away that I was in the area,” you respond. “And this place was always so calming for me, you know? The smell of wood, your dad’s stories…”

You.

“So I thought I’d come in”, you continue. “He hasn’t changed. It’s nice to see him.”

Yoongi always wondered what parts of you remained the same and which parts didn’t.

Perhaps the playfulness tempered a bit. You seem a little more anxious than he remembers, too. There’s this sophistication about you that was always too good for this small town, and he sees that even more now. Your smile is still soft but it isn’t as bright. He won’t deny that it still makes his heart race, though.

You have a habit of going somewhere familiar to seek comfort. You always looked for it in places, he noticed - in that dingy convenience store near your school, in your town’s secondhand bookstore even if you don’t like reading, in the Opera House where you and your mom used to go to. Yoongi learns now that that hasn’t changed at all. You’re in his dad’s store, a place you always wanted to go to after spending time with your family, and he supposes that’s where you came from.

He doesn’t know if he’s still someone you find comfort in and he doesn’t know if you even want to spend time with him after all these years, but he doesn’t have the heart to just let you walk out of here not knowing if you’re truly okay.

He hated leaving you alone then when things weren’t good. You didn’t always want to talk but you said once that just hearing him breathing on the other end of the phone or just having his hand over yours made you feel better. He may not be the right person now but he’s still someone, and that’s always better than no one.

You eye the door, ready to leave, but his call of your name prompts you to look back at him.

“Do you have somewhere to be?” He asks.

“No, not really,” you reply.

“Would you like to grab some coffee?”

The words are familiar. You hate that you remember everything about it.

“Just coffee?” You ask, almost teasingly.

He chuckles softly and meets your eyes, and somehow a part of you thinks that you shouldn’t do this. But you’re glad he asked in the first place.

“Yes, ___. Just coffee.”

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