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junghelioseok · 3 years

Text

heart-on.

↳ your one-night stand definitely isn’t relationship material, but maybe—just maybe—your manager’s son is.

◇ hoseok x reader ◇ smut | strangers to lovers!au ◇ 10.1k [1/1]

❛❛ my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick ❜❜

notes: welcome to the first installment of the serendipity series! we’re starting with hoseok, because, well, have you met me? 🤣 be warned, however, that this isn’t anywhere near as edited as i’d like so i’ll probably give it another read/edit tomorrow but for now!!! here it is!!!

⇢ series masterlist. | inspired by this post.

warnings: dirty talk bc hoseok’s got a bit of a mouth on him, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids!), sexting. dick pics, obvi. brief mention of a dead pet goldfish :(

You’re refilling your mug when you hear it. Voices filter out from the kitchen, floating past the coffee station where you’re pouring yourself another drink and hanging in the open air of the hallway that leads back to the rest of the office. They’re familiar voices, too—voices that belong to the resident gossips of your workplace. Lottie’s pitchy, nasal tone melds with Hyejin’s higher one, their conversation interrupted every so often by an exaggerated exclamation or gasp from Sandra, the third and final member of their trio.

“Haven’t you heard? Carolyn’s divorce was finalized over the weekend, the poor thing.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine how she’s feeling. I mean, getting back into dating at her age? Goodness!”

“And now she’ll be all alone at the holiday party, too. How sad is that?”

“It’s tragic. Poor thing.”

Rolling your eyes, you grab a packet of sugar and tear it open, upending it over your mug and watching the crystalline granules fall into the dark liquid within. You know for a fact that Sandra and her husband can’t even stand to be in the same room for an extended period of time, considering how they’d spent most of last year’s holiday party talking to entirely different groups of people. You’d sat two tables away from them during dinner, and they hadn’t even made eye contact once. And as for Lottie and Hyejin, well, you’re certain that their relationships aren’t much better. All three of them are miserable people as far as you’re concerned, and you make a mental note to check in on Carolyn—a sweet woman in her thirties who always keeps chocolate bars in her purse—on your way back to your desk.

“Sheesh. Vultures, the lot of them. Don’t you think?”

You whirl at the sound of your manager’s voice. Kyunghee Jung is a dark-haired woman in her late fifties, and she laughs when she sees your startled expression, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Easy! You’ll spill your coffee if you’re not careful.”

“I’ll probably have a heart attack first,” you reply, pressing a hand to your chest. “What was your job before this? Some kind of intelligence operative? Are you a super spy?”

Kyunghee laughs again and joins you at the counter. “Nothing even remotely as exciting as that,” she answers, plopping her mug down beside yours. It’s decorated with what looks like every color of the rainbow, a massive smiling sunflower taking up the majority of the surface, and the only remnant of the ceramic’s original color is on the very edge of the handle where there’s a lopsided little patch of white. The piece is clearly handmade, and a stark contrast to the simple mint green cup that houses your coffee. Looking at it, it’s impossible not to smile.

“I love that,” you remark, inclining your head at her mug. “Was it a present from one of your kids?”

“Hoseok,” she confirms, running a fingertip along the imperfect handle fondly. “I’ve told you about him before—he’s right around your age.”

You chuckle. “Right, I remember. That’s why he’s the perfect match for me, right?”

“Come now, there’s more to it than that,” Kyunghee defends, waving a hand. “But yes, to answer your question. He gave it to me as a birthday present when he was eight.”

“Well, you never told me he was an artist,” you tease. “Does he have an Etsy? Can I buy one of these off him? Does he do custom orders, maybe?”

Normally, your manager is more than happy to play along with your jokes, but today Kyunghee fixes you with an uncharacteristically serious look. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” she asks. “He’s coming to the holiday party, after all. I figured you could finally meet.”

You blink. Kyunghee has been making offhand remarks about how well you would get on with her son, Hoseok, for over a year now, but you’ve never even come close to broaching the topic of meeting him. You don’t even know anything about the man beyond the fact that his name is Hoseok and that he works somewhere downtown. He also favors tall socks and yellow suspenders if the framed photograph on Kyunghee’s desk is any indication—or at least, he certainly did when he was still in diapers. Whether he still does, is anyone’s guess.

“Wow, I had no idea he was even interested in coming,” you manage when you’ve recovered from your surprise. “Did you bribe him?”

If Kyunghee notices that your voice is a few pitches higher than usual, she doesn’t remark on it. “Oh, you know. I just told him that this would be his last chance to score free booze on the company’s dime.” She laughs. “Three more months and it’s going to be all beaches and sunshine for me. I might even become a cruise person in my retirement.”

You gasp and slap a hand to your heart. “Kyunghee! Think of the environmental impact!”

“I said I might!” she retorts immediately. “Sheesh. Even in my old age, it’s hard to conveniently forget how shitty and unsustainable those damn boats are.”

You pick up your mug and raise it in a salute. “Well, the oceans thank you.”

“My husband doesn’t,” she answers with a sigh. “He’s been dying to book one of those trips that stop all along the Mediterrannean coastline, and I can’t exactly blame him.”

“That is tempting,” you admit. “You’ll have to send photos, if you do end up going.”

“You’ll be sick of me and my photos before the first day is even up,” she promises. Then she pauses, her eyes darting toward the kitchen where silence has fallen in the last few minutes. “Speaking of being sick—you think the vultures are still hovering around in there? I haven’t had lunch yet, and I need the microwave.”

Obligingly, you edge a little closer to the kitchen doorway and poke your head around the frame, scanning for Lottie and her sidekicks. “Coast is clear. Enjoy your lunch, Kyunghee.”

She nods and raises her mug at you, returning your salute. “I always do.”

///

As soon as the work day ends, you fall into your usual routine. Your commute home is easily walkable on nicer days, and though the winter weather is brisker than you’d like, you decide to walk for the sake of stopping at the convenience store on the corner of the block.

Once you arrive back at your apartment, you change into your comfiest sweats and a loose tee. You turn on some music while you throw together some dinner, and settle onto the couch half an hour later with a full plate and Netflix. Television is a welcome distraction from the events of the workday, and you manage to get through three full episodes of your current show before your pesky brain decides to revisit the events of today, replaying the conversations that you’d both had and overheard.

There’s no denying that you’ve been single for quite some time now, and for the most part, it’s been by choice. Ever since graduating from university, you’ve chosen to focus more on your career, and it’s paid off both in terms of the important position you hold in your company and your above average salary. And yet, you can’t help but think back to the gossip you’d overheard earlier—about the supposed tragedy of being single and attending the upcoming holiday party alone. Your mind wanders to Kyunghee’s son, Hoseok, and how he’ll be in attendance this year. You wonder what he’s like, and whether he really is perfect for you, as Kyunghee seems to be so fond of mentioning.

And then your mind goes to Jay.

You met Jay two months ago, on a well-deserved night out after a hellish workweek. The bar was crowded, and the music coming from the neon dancefloor in the back was just loud enough to drown out your inhibitions. That, combined with the alcohol swimming through your system, made you bold. You sashayed your way across the dancefloor, dodging inebriated bodies and swaying limbs as you fixed your attention on the head of pale lavender hair and deliciously broad shoulders that awaits you just behind the bar counter. The bartender is nothing short of gorgeous, and you’ve thrown all caution to the wind. Sure, several other women are eyeing him like he’s their next meal—several men are, too—but you need another drink. And while he prepares it, you plan to flirt.

A lot.

The bar counter is sticky with spilled liquor, but you don’t pay that any mind as you lean across it, the wood digging into the narrow strip of exposed skin left by your cropped top. “Hi!” you call, and the bartender looks up from where he’s just finished pouring a round of shots for a group of raucous young men.

“Hi yourself,” he says, his pillowy lips stretching into an easy smile. “What can I get you?”

You pretend not to notice the way his eyes flicker down to the dip of your cleavage and instead put on the sultriest smile you are capable of mustering. “Vodka soda,” you tell him, injecting a bit of purr into your voice. “A bit of lemon too, if you have it.”

“Trust me, I have it,” he assures, his smile growing as he reaches for a clean glass and a clear bottle. “Name’s Jin, by the way. I’m here all night, if you need anything e—”

A loud clatter and the sound of breaking glass interrupts the rest of his sentence, and all eyes at the bar go to the source of the disturbance. Conversations stutter to a halt, and even the thumping bass of the music seems to dull. Jin darts to the other end of the bar, where you can see that one of several barstools has fallen to the ground. There’s a man on the ground as well, surrounded by shattered glass and spilled dark liquor, and your eyes widen when you realize that you know him.

And arguably, a little too well.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. People are starting to lose interest in the spectacle, turning back to their own conversations and continuing on as if nothing had happened at all. The man is beginning to clamber to his feet, and a few people lend a helping hand as Jin begins barking out orders for everyone to step back so he can sweep up the broken glass. You seize upon the opportunity, latching on to the nearest arm and pulling them close so you can hide behind them. Vaguely, you’re aware of them sputtering in surprise, but you only have eyes for the man who had fallen off his stool, watching him carefully as he brushes himself off and tries to play it cool despite the sizable patch of whiskey soaking his white shirt.

“Hey, uh…” Your human shield is speaking. “Are you okay? You’re squeezing me pretty tight.”

That draws you out of your daze. Abashed, you loosen your grip on his arm and look up into his face, your throat going dry when you realize how handsome he is. His black hair is parted over his forehead, a stray strand falling into warm brown eyes set above a straight nose and an inviting mouth. There’s a freckle above his top lip, just shy of the center, and your inebriated brain wonders just what it would be like to kiss it.

“I, um—” You clear your throat and try again. “Sorry about that. I just didn’t want him to see me.”

Your newfound companion raises an eyebrow and glances over his shoulder at the drunk man, who is now being ushered out of the bar by his buddies. “You know that guy?”

You nod, cringing. “Yeah, his name’s Trent. I… may or may not have dated him for a few months last year.”

The man laughs out loud. “You dated a Trent?”

“What, like you’ve never made a questionable life choice?” you challenge. “Besides, you shouldn’t judge someone based on the sins of their parents. It’s not his fault they gave him a terrible name.”

“Sure, but it is on him for going along with it,” he replies with a shrug. “I would’ve changed my name as soon as I could if my parents had named me Trent. But hey, that’s just one man’s opinion.”

You laugh. “Okay then, Not-Trent.” Relinquishing your grip on his arm, you let your fingers graze his hand before pulling away entirely. “What do you say we continue this conversation over a drink?”

The man, whose name is decidedly not Trent, catches your fingers in his and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Happily.”

One drink turns into two, and then three. By the end of the hour, you are feeling pleasantly warm, the alcohol spreading through your veins like molasses and turning your surroundings into a hazy blur. The music has grown even louder, pounding against your eardrums, and you grab onto Not-Trent’s wrist as he sets his now-empty glass back down onto the counter.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, raising your voice to be heard over the thumping bassline. “I can’t even hear myself think.”

“The parking lot’s out back,” he suggests. “Why don’t we get some air?”

You nod and stand up on wobbly legs, cursing your decision to wear heels when you stumble into your companion. He steadies you with a gentle but firm hand, and you don’t miss the way his touch lingers on your lower back, his palm warm through the material of your blouse.

Together, the two of you pick your way through the throng of swaying bodies on the dancefloor. The bassline thuds in your ears, dark and hypnotic, and you can feel the reverberations thrumming across the slats of your ribs and echoing in the cavern of your chest like a second heartbeat.

It’s almost a relief, then, when you step out into the cool night air. Your ears continue to ring for a few seconds, but it soon fades and leaves behind only the muted hum of traffic from the street and the faint sound of music from inside. At your side, Not-Trent releases a long breath and leans against the brick wall of the building, and you turn to take in the steep slopes of his side profile as he tilts his head up toward the velvety night sky.

He’s handsome. Dressed in ripped jeans and black leather, he’s a sight to behold, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been craving a bit of intimacy for quite some time now. The alcohol swimming through your system makes you bolder than you normally would be, and you reach out to lay a hand on his arm. He turns toward you with a silent question glimmering in his irises, but you simply step closer, until you’re pinning him against the wall with your body and you’re breathing the same air.

“Hey,” you say, your voice an airy whisper. His eyes are near obsidian in the dimness of the parking lot, illuminated only by the orange glow of the streetlamps on either end, and your gaze flickers down to his mouth before roving to the freckle that sits upon his top lip. “Kiss me?”

Your companion’s eyes widen. His lips part, but no words come out, and you’re about to repeat your question when he finally finds his voice again.

“That’s really… that’s not a good idea.” Awkwardly, he clears his throat, but the hoarseness of his voice and the harsh bob of his Adam’s apple give away his true desires. “Look, you’ve been drinking. We both have, and—”

You cut him off, pushing up to your tiptoes and planting a messy kiss to the soft dip just beneath his bottom lip. “Don’t care,” you mumble against his skin. “I want you.”

Your companion laughs weakly. His hands find their way to your waist and pause there, as if he can’t decide whether to push you away or pull you closer. “You don’t even know me,” he murmurs.

“I don’t have to know you,” you reply. Your fingers drag down his chest, trailing along the delicate silver necklace that rests against the black of his shirt. From the chain hangs a round pendant, the surface engraved with the letter J. Slowly, you trace it with a fingertip, the metal shining even in the dim light, and satisfaction blooms in your heart when your companion’s throat bobs again. “I want you,” you breathe, soft but insistent. “Isn’t that enough?”

“I—” He clears his throat and tries again, and you wonder if he realizes that his hands have slid down to your hips, or that there’s a growing hardness against your lower stomach that’s becoming increasingly harder to ignore. “Look, I’m flattered—really, I am. And you’re… I mean, fuck, you’re gorgeous. But I don’t think we should do anything when you’re clearly not in the right frame of mind to be making this kind of decision, and—”

“And, nothing.” You wind your arms around his neck, pressing close and grinding subtly against the bulge in his pants. You smirk when he releases a low hiss from between his teeth, and hide it by laying a trail of kisses along the stretch of bare skin exposed by the dip of his collar. “Stop being such a gentleman,” you whisper. Your fingers trail down his chest, past the silver of his pendant and down to the faded denim of his jeans, teasing at the cool metal of his belt buckle. “I want this. But if you’re not interested, I can always go back in there and—”

The rest of your sentence dies in your throat. Your companion has tugged you flush against him in one smooth motion, and your gasp is cut off by the firm press of his mouth against yours. Immediately, you melt into the kiss, and a moan tears from your lips when he spins you around and pins you against the brick wall of the building.

“You’re a spoiled little thing, huh?” His breath fans hot against your cheeks, and you shiver when you meet his eyes and see the dark promise reflected there. “Used to getting what you want, huh, princess?”

Your breath hitches at the endearment—something your companion doesn’t miss. “Oh, you like that?” He chuckles hoarsely, and when he speaks again it’s in a rasp that sends heat straight to your core. “What else do you like, hmm? You want me to be rough with you, princess? Or should I be gentle and treat you like a queen?”

You reach up, raking your fingers through his hair and skimming across the soft strands of his undercut before finding purchase at his nape. “You talk too much,” you whisper.

And then you’re crushing your mouth back against his, whining when he immediately takes back control of the kiss. His grip slides downward, his fingertips digging into the skin just above the curve of your ass, and you squeak when he grabs the back of your thigh and hooks your leg around his waist.

“You feel that?” he rasps into your ear, nipping at the delicate shell and chortling when you keen. Your skirt has ridden up dangerously high on your spread thighs, and you let out a soft whimper when he grinds harshly against your center. The lace of your panties and the denim of his jeans are the last barricades between you, and you wonder, vaguely, whether your companion has a bit of an exhibitionist streak when he slides one of your sleeves down your shoulder and begins kissing a trail down to the swell of your cleavage. “You feel how hard you’ve gotten me?”

You lean down, kissing the soft spot where his jaw meets his ear before letting your teeth graze against his skin. “Why don’t you do something about it then?”

He hisses out a sharp breath, his hands tightening their hold on your hips. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, huh? I can’t wait to make you eat your words.”

Any retort you may have had is interrupted by a sudden swell of music and the sound of a slamming door. Whirling to face the source of the noise, you immediately spot a familiar head of lavender hair atop broad shoulders encapsulated in the black uniform of the bar. Jin hasn’t noticed the two of you yet, his attention fixated on his cell phone screen, but he looks up when you let out a little squeak of surprise and shove your companion’s chest in an attempt to create some distance between you.

“Hey.” Jin raises a hand in greeting, a knowing smirk curling his lips. “This phone call shouldn’t be too long, so please. Don’t stop the party on my behalf.”

Heat floods to your cheeks. There isn’t much use protesting against his insinuation, considering the rather compromising position you’re in. Much to your relief, though, your companion simply huffs out a chuckle and waves Jin off. “Thanks, man, but we’ll get out of your hair.” Lowering his voice, he turns back to you. “Coming, princess?”

You nod. He offers you his hand, and you take it gratefully, adjusting your skirt so that it drapes properly over your hips and thighs again.

“Have a good night!” Jin calls after you, amusement lacing every word. You can’t work up the nerve to respond, and luckily, you don’t have to. Your companion leads you around the corner of the building, where several rows of cars are parked beneath an orange streetlamp. On this side, the exterior brick wall is painted with a mural, and you admire the colorful galaxies and nebulae swirling amidst silvery white stars and the word serendipity spray-painted in pale blue.

The last car in the row is parked just beneath the letter Y, and it’s here that your companion stops. The sleek black vehicle has an almost vintage feel to it, and you glance up when you hear the jingle of metal.

“I’m guessing this is yours?”

He nods, pulling a set of keys from the pocket of his leather jacket and inserting one into the lock. “Yeah. You like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” you tell him, tracing the edge of the passenger window “Makes my car look like a total piece of shit by comparison.”

Your companion chuckles, pulling open the driver’s side door, and you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the window as he presses a button to unlock the rest of the doors. Your hair’s a bit of a mess and your mascara has smudged beneath your right eye, and you hurriedly swipe at it as your companion turns his attention back to you.

“So,” he says. “Now what? I can give you a ride home, if you want.”

Deliberately, you let your gaze drop down to his crotch, where his bulge—albeit waning—is still visible. “Seriously? I thought you were going to… what was it again? Make me eat my words?”

And just like that, it’s as if a switch has flipped. His eyes darken to obsidian, his lips settling into a stern line, and you barely have time to draw in a breath before he’s caging you against the side of his car and molding his mouth to yours. Your lips part beneath the onslaught, and he wastes no time in dipping inside to explore, licking into you until you’re both breathless.

“Inside,” he breathes once you’ve broken apart, and you instantly obey. You wrench the door open and all but tumble into the backseat, and he isn’t far behind as he slots himself between your spread thighs. Your hands fly to his shoulders where you help him shuck off his leather jacket, tossing it carelessly to the front where it lands in a heap on the dashboard before focusing your attention on the hem of his black t-shirt. Your companion obliges you as you push it upward to expose his toned abdomen, grabbing it by the collar and pulling it off the rest of the way when your reach falls a little short in the cramped interior of the backseat.

“Your turn,” he whispers when you try to reach for his belt, his hands settling around your wrists. “It’s only fair, princess.”

Pouting, you let your hands fall limp in his grasp, and he chuckles as he leans down to pacify you with a kiss. Deft fingers find the hem of your blouse, pushing it up until you can twist out of the material. You throw it aside with no regard for where it lands on the ground, and lay back as your companion drinks you in, his dark gaze raking across the lacy black lingerie that decorates your curves and skims you like a second skin. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice hoarse with a combination of amazement and disbelief. “You’re stunning.”

You smile, trailing a fingertip from the dip of his collarbone down to the silver necklace that sits prettily against his bare chest. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you tell him, tracing the letter engraved into his pendant. “Jay.”

Your companion—newly dubbed Jay—smiles back. “You’re something else, princess,” he murmurs, before leaning down to kiss you again. He explores your mouth thoroughly—languidly—before moving down to nip at your neck, and already, you can feel the beginnings of marks beginning to form, blossoming across your skin as irrefutable proof of your tryst.

It isn’t long before Jay frees you from your bra, watching with carnal fascination as your breasts spill out of the lacy material. You whine when he reaches out to cup one, his palm hot against your bare skin, and he smirks crookedly when a pinch to your nipple makes your back arch off the leather of the seat. “So pretty,” he rasps. “I can’t wait to see how you look stretched around my cock.”

“Stop waiting, then,” you tell him, trying again for his belt buckle. This time, he lets you fumble it open, leaning back to watch you work with hooded eyes and a lazy little smile. Emboldened, you push aside the denim of his jeans and free his cock from the confines of his underwear. He’s hard and hot and heavy in your palm, and your tongue darts out instinctively at the sight of the pearlescent precum beading the tip.

“Jay,” you murmur, thumbing across the head of his erection and smirking when he hisses in pleasure. “Fuck me.”

Jay seems to consider your demand, mischief flitting across his features before he manages to school his expression into something more neutral. “Where are your manners, princess?” he asks, pushing your hand away and giving himself a few long, slow strokes. “Say please, if you want it so bad.”

For a moment, you consider refusing. Jay seems to be the type of man who enjoys a good game, but between the state of his cock and the earlier interruption, you’re pretty sure he’s nearing his limit. And even if he isn’t, you are. And so, you shelve your pride for the time being, and trail a hand down the length of your bared body as you bat your lashes up at him. “Fuck me, Jay,” you repeat. “Please. Want your cock so bad.”

His answering smile is equal parts amusement and satisfaction, and altogether sinful. “That’s my girl,” he rasps, before shoving your panties aside. Lining the head of his cock up, he enters you in one smooth thrust, and you moan as your walls stretch to accommodate his girth. You’re more than wet enough to take him in his entirety, your eyes fluttering shut when he bottoms out, and he groans hoarsely as he takes a second to relish the feeling of your walls gripping him so tightly.

“Fuck. You’re so wet, princess.” Jay dips a thumb into your slick, spreading it across your clit and rubbing a few experimental circles around the sensitive nub. He groans when you clench around him, his hips stuttering, and you squeeze around him again just to hear him grit out another curse. “Shit. I’m not going to last long at this rate.”

“Don’t care,” you murmur, rocking against him and sighing when the motion sends him a little deeper into your core. “Just fuck me, Jay. Please.”

Jay leans in, a dark lock of hair falling across his forehead as he plants an indulgent kiss on your waiting mouth. “Anything for you, princess,” he breathes. Slowly, he pulls back until only the tip of his cock remains inside you. Then he’s slamming forward, and you can’t even find it in yourself to care about the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin or the way the car rocks. Jay’s thumbing across your clit in tight circles that he times perfectly with the rock of his hips, and you wonder whether the rapidly building pleasure in your belly is due to your dry spell or if he’s just that good. You can feel every inch of him as he fills you up repeatedly, his brows furrowed in concentration and his dark hair flopping as he drives deeper in search of the spot that will have you seeing stars.

You know he’s found it when the pleasure in your belly spikes, your back arching off the backseat. Your skin is sticky against the dark leather and you’re certain the sweat gathering at your temples has destroyed the last of your makeup, but Jay alleviates your concerns with a particularly well-timed thrust and a harsh nip to the soft spot at your clavicle. You keen out something unintelligible, and his lips stretch into a smirk against your skin.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Cum for me, princess.”

That’s all it takes for the mounting pressure to snap. Your body collapses into a searing orgasm, the pleasure flaring out like a supernova and spreading through your veins like wildfire. “F-fuck, Jay—” you gasp, your fingers scrabbling at his back for purchase and no doubt leaving scratches in their wake. “Fuck, you feel so—”

The remainder of your words trail off into garbled nonsense, and Jay huffs out a strained chuckle as he begins chasing after his own orgasm, rutting against you in a way that both prolongs your pleasure and sustains his own. “Shit,” he groans, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck, that’s it. Look at you—taking my cock so well. So pretty and perfect and—”

Whatever he was going to say dissolves into a groan as he gives a few more erratic thrusts before his release overwhelms him. Creamy warmth floods through you, and you rub his back tiredly as his head drops onto your shoulder, his breath flaring hot against your skin as he rides out his orgasm.

It takes several long seconds for the pleasure to recede. Your legs are still shaky when Jay pulls away, straightening up and tucking himself back into his jeans. There’s an empty ache in your core now that you are no longer stuffed full of his cock, and already, you are missing the feeling. Still, you push that aside as you sit up, adjusting your panties and wincing at the wetness that soaks the material and sticks to your skin.

“So,” Jay says after a moment’s silence, and you glance over at him when he huffs out a short chuckle. “That was fun.”

“Not bad at all,” you agree weakly, an irrepressible smile tugging at your lips.

Jay grins. It’s a bright, infectious grin—and it’s one that you’ve already grown rather fond of in the short period of time you’ve known him. It’s a grin that showcases his perfect teeth and crinkles his eyes into crescents, and one that all but forces you to grin back.

“Here, give me your phone,” he says, and you watch as he punches in his number once you hand it over. “Just in case you ever wanna do this again,” he tells you, handing it back. “Don’t be a stranger, princess.”

You glance down at his contact information, saved under the moniker you’d given him and affixed with a short string of emojis. “I won’t,” you tell him, chuckling. “In fact, I just might take you up on the offer.”

The screen of your laptop has long since gone dark, and you stretch your arms overhead before waking it again. Rolling your shoulders, you navigate back to the main Netflix menu, hovering over the resume button and watching the trailer loop in the background.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about Jay often. You’ve texted each other quite often since that night in his car—usually when you’re bored and alone and have had a few too many glasses of wine in the evenings. You’ve found yourself tapping on his name instinctively during those odd, ambiguous hours—when late night and early morning meld together and you’re aching for a bit of relief.

And as if he knows you’re thinking about him, your phone buzzes against the coffee table, the screen lighting up with a familiar name.

[11:22pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinkin about u, pretty girl 😘

It’s followed by an image, and your heart rate picks up, thudding loudly against your ribs as you open it.

Fuck.

Your memories of Jay’s face—made all the more hazy by the alcohol and the amount of time elapsed since your first and only meeting—truly don’t do him justice. Though the photograph cuts off just above his nose, you can still admire the sharp angle of his jaw and the fullness of his puckered lips. His skin is golden against the white of his t-shirt, and you lick your lips before thumbing across your screen to respond.

[11:23pm] You: yeah? what else are you thinking about, hmm?

His response is instantaneous.

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinking about that pretty little pussy of yours

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: how good it looked in that pic u sent me tuesday 👅

You barely even notice the way your hand begins trailing down your body, pushing aside the elastic waistband of your sweats. It’s as if you’re on autopilot, as your fingers find their way to the damp spot growing on your panties.

Yeah? you write back with your free hand, already teasing at your clothed folds with the other. Tell me more.

///

It’s an uncharacteristically warm Friday morning when you find yourself in the elevator with Jimin, a good friend of yours who works on one of the lower levels of your office building. “Morning,” he says as he steps in, a large iced coffee in hand despite the fact that it’s still very much the middle of winter. Then he squints, leaning a little closer. “Oh my god. You got laid!”

“Oh my god, not so loud!” you hiss, whacking him on the shoulder and jabbing the button to close the elevator doors. “And no, not exactly. I’ve just been texting Jay.”

“Texting, sure.” Jimin mimes air quotes around the word and rolls his eyes. “You’re sexting him, and we all know it. How many pictures of his dick do you have saved on your phone now?”

“Oh my—” You sigh, trailing off. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

“Right, of course.” Jimin takes a sip of his coffee and pretends to check his watch. “When would you like to talk about it then? Do you need to check your calendar? Can I book an appointment for later this afternoon?”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Shut up.”

Jimin just grins, his lips puckered around his straw. “So, how’s Jay? Have you asked for his real name yet?”

You shrug. “What’s the point? It’s not like we’re friends or anything. We’ve literally only met the one time.”

“Yeah, but that’s just because you’re a coward,” Jimin points out. “What’s stopping you from meeting up with him again? You have his number. You have at least one photo of his dick. Ask him out already!”

“It’s not that easy, though,” you sigh. The elevator doors open to let a few more people in, and you move to the side and lower your voice so that only Jimin can hear. “Jay—he’s not exactly boyfriend material. I mean, we fucked in his car the first night we met.”

“So?” Jimin frowns and takes another sip of his iced coffee. “You talk about things besides sex, don’t you? You definitely told him about your goldfish dying, at least. I mean, you told him before you even told me!”

“Yes I did, and he was appropriately sympathetic about Mustache’s passing, unlike some people,” you sniff. “Get over it already, won’t you?”

“Never,” Jimin replies, ignoring your pointed jab. “I’m sure you only told him because you knew you could get a sympathy sext out of it. How many dick pics did you get out of that night, anyway?”

“You’re gross,” you tell him, punching him in the arm. “Not to mention that’s exactly why Jay’s not boyfriend material. He’s perfectly happy with—whatever it is we’re doing. I can’t just ruin that by asking him to get dinner.” You frown, gnawing on your bottom lip. “I don’t want to make this into something that it’s not.”

Jimin hesitates. “Fine, okay. I guess I can understand that.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a pause, as the elevator makes a few more stops. You watch the numbers crawl higher, and know that you’ll soon have to part ways with your friend..

“Hey.” You nudge Jimin with your shoulder, just as the elevator doors close and you begin the ascent to his floor. “Wanna know something interesting?”

Jimin looks up from his phone, where he’s scrolling through Twitter. “Always.”

“My boss’ son is coming to the party tomorrow.”

Jimin’s eyebrows disappear into his ashy blond hair at your revelation. “Kyunghee’s son? Hoseok, or whatever?”

You chuckle. “The one and only. She’s found about a million ways to bring him up in conversation this past week. She thinks we’re a match made in heaven.”

“Wow.” Jimin releases a long breath. “I wonder what he’s like, then.”

You shrug, adjusting the strap of your work tote over your shoulder. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

///

The morning of the party, you wake up to an empty refrigerator. Half stale cereal and the last dregs of milk from the carton become your breakfast, and you munch on that as you mull over the contents of your closet. You’re still in your pajamas, but you pull out your comfiest jeans and a sweater to change into after you finish eating. Then you turn to your collection of dresses, rifling through them and mentally debating the merits of each material and color.

You could go in one of two directions tonight. On the one hand, this is still a work party, and as such your attire should probably maintain a certain level of decorum. But on the other, you’re meeting Hoseok Jung for the first time tonight. You aren’t necessarily looking to start anything with the man, of course, but you do want to look good. With that in mind, you eventually settle on a deep red number that you pull out of the very back of your closet, made of a silky material that skims your curves and accentuates your best assets. Laying it on the bed, you begin your hunt for a pair of matching shoes. Twenty minutes of searching and another five of agonizing later, you step into the bathroom, intent on showering and getting on with the rest of your day.

Upon exiting the bathroom, you decide that tackling the state of your refrigerator takes top priority over your other weekend errands. Sitting down at the dining table, you take stock of what you have in your pantry, planning out your meals for the upcoming week and making a list of what you need to purchase in order to make them a reality. It’s just after one in the afternoon when you exit your apartment with a completed grocery list and your purse stuffed full of reusable canvas bags. The store is a short walk from where you live, and you decide to put in your earbuds as your feet navigate the familiar route. The temperature is surprisingly mild for winter, and the sun shines bright from its perch in the cloudless blue sky. It’s perfect weather for a walk, and the fresh air clears your mind and eases your heart.

At the grocery store, you forego the stack of baskets and instead grab a shopping cart. Weaving your way up and down the aisles, you check items off the list on your phone one by one. Eventually, you find yourself in the cereal section, grabbing a box of granola before turning to where your favorite cereal normally sits. It isn’t there, and you turn in a full circle, confused, until your gaze finally lands on the familiar box on the top shelf.

Great.

Sighing, you push up to your tiptoes, stretching your arm as far as it can reach. Your fingertips graze the shelf, but you can’t quite get a grip on the box itself. Glancing down, you scan the bottommost shelf and wonder if you can step on it to give yourself a boost.

“Need a hand?”

The voice comes from behind you, and a vague sense of familiarity sparks in your brain. Slowly, you turn around, and your entire body freezes when your gaze slides up to the speaker’s face.

“Jay.” The syllable escapes you in a near whisper. “H-hi.”

“Hey.”

Jay stands before you, looking like sin incarnate in a faded denim jacket, black sweatpants slung low on his hips, and not much else. At his throat, his silver necklace sparkles, the silver J pendant glinting beneath the fluorescent lights of the store, and you’re suddenly beyond grateful that you decided to put on a decent sweater before leaving.

“Here,” he says, stepping forward until he’s close enough that you can smell his cologne—sandalwood tinged with sweet citrus. “Let me help you with that.”

The sudden proximity has your breath hitching in your throat. Your heart thuds erratically against your ribs as he reaches around you, the denim flaps of his jacket gaping in a way that exposes even more of his bare chest. By the time he pulls back with your cereal box in hand, you feel almost faint, belatedly realizing that you’d been holding your breath.

“You wanted this, right?” Jay asks, and you aren’t sure if you’re imagining the innuendo underlying his words or the teasing inflection of the syllables.

“Y-yeah, that’s the one,” you manage, fighting to quell the uneven tempo of your heartbeat as you accept the box. “Thanks.”

“Happy to help,” he replies. Then he leans in, close enough that you can feel his warm breath fanning your cheek as he murmurs his next sentence into your ear. “Anything for you, princess. You know that.”

Heat floods across your cheeks. Your heart skips two full beats before taking off into a sprint, and it’s impossible to ignore the way your core begins to thrum, as if anticipating a repeat of that night you first met all those weeks ago. Almost instinctively, your eyes dart up to the ceiling where the security cameras are, and Jay follows the trajectory of your gaze with a low chuckle and a soft brush of your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Sorry, princess. As much as I’d love to get my hands on you, I’m kind of on a time crunch today.”

You can’t stop the wave of disappointment that washes over you, even if you’re in the exact same boat. “Rain check, then?”

“Rain check,” he agrees. Slowly, you reach up to touch the engraved silver pendant resting against his chest, rubbing it between your fingertips before tracing the curve of the J, and he catches your wandering fingers between his and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“You know how to reach me,” he murmurs with a mischievous wink. His gaze lingers even after he’s released your hand, and you clear your throat awkwardly before turning to deposit your cereal box into your shopping cart.

The two of you go your separate ways then, exchanging goodbyes. You finish the rest of your grocery shopping in a daze, idly going through the motions at checkout and letting muscle memory guide you back home. Your arms are aching by the time you step past the threshold of your apartment, and you heave your shopping bags up onto the kitchen counter with a relieved sigh before returning to the entryway to toe off your shoes. You throw together a sandwich as you unpack your groceries, taking a big bite as you walk back to your bedroom to look at the dress you’ve picked out. Pacing over to the closet, you double-check your shoe choice. Briefly, you debate whether or not to wear flats instead of heels.

There are still a few hours left before you have to start getting ready, so you take the last of your sandwich back to the kitchen and whip up a smoothie to go with it. You scroll through your phone as you eat, browsing through the latest news headlines and scrolling through your social media accounts. Just before six o’clock, as the sun starts setting beyond the horizon and casting long shadows across your living room, you start getting changed. You snap a photo in the mirror once you’re dressed, pulling up Jimin’s name in your phone and sending it to him.

[6:13pm] You: last chance to come tonight

Your phone buzzes with a response almost immediately.

[6:14pm] Jimin: nah. i’d hate to step on hoseok’s toes.

You laugh. Not so fast, you text back. We don’t even know anything about the guy yet. What if he’s boring? Or sexist?

[6:15pm] Jimin: if u think kyunghee raised a sexist you’re seriously deranged

[6:16pm] Jimin: now stop taking selfies and get your ass out the door! you’re gonna be late!!!!

///

Each year, the holiday party tends to be a little over the top, and this year is no exception. The company has bought out the entirety of a restaurant for the evening, and you glance around in amazement at the twinkling lights and lush evergreen boughs decorating the walls and strung up along the ceiling. An assortment of sparkling ornaments hangs from the massive tree in the far corner, interspersed between silver tinsel and more lights. Grabbing a champagne flute off a passing server’s tray, you head farther into the restaurant, skirting around tables draped in creamy linen and greeting your colleagues and friends.

“Is she alone?”

“Figures.”

The voices come from the direction of the open bar, and somehow, you just know that they’re talking about you. Lottie, Hyejin, and Sandra are clustered in the corner with glasses of wine in hand, casting glances around the restaurant and gossiping about anything and everything with a pulse. You’re sorely tempted to grab the nearest pitcher of water off a table and pour it over their heads, but you suppress the urge and instead head over with a saccharine smile. “So lovely to see you, {Name},” Lottie says as you approach.

“I love your dress,” Sandra adds. “Very slimming.”

“Thanks,” you reply, putting on your brightest, fakest smile. “Yours is great too. How are you and your husband enjoying the party so far?”

Sandra’s face sours, and you hide your smirk in your champagne flute. Maybe it’s petty to bring up her rocky relationship, but you’ve been subject to snide comments from Sandra and her friends for years now and it’s become increasingly hard for you to bite your tongue. A few tables away, you spot Sandra’s husband, Rodney, take an enormous gulp of his whiskey and wince as it burns down his throat.

“We’re all having a wonderful time, aren’t we, ladies?” Lottie cuts in when Sandra takes too long to answer. “Hyejin’s date is over there with Rodney, and my boyfriend is fetching himself a drink. You remember Dev, don’t you?”

You nod, even though it’s a lie. “Sure. Say hi to him for me.”

Lottie’s lips curve up into a smile, her head tilting to the side, and you’re suddenly reminded of a snake rearing its head back for the kill. “So, what about you? Have you brought someone tonight, or—?”

“Hi ladies!” Kyunghee materializes at your side, her lips painted a festive red shade to match her dress. She’s wearing the disingenuous smile that she reserves for the resident gossips of your office, and you try not to let your relief show on your face when Lottie’s attention refocuses on your manager.

“So good to see you, Kyunghee,” she simpers. “Have you been here long?”

“Not as long as you,” your manager replies, nodding at the near-empty wineglass in her hand. “I see we’re already making a dent in the wine supply, and you’re falling behind, {Name}. Why don’t we go remedy that, hmm?”

She doesn’t give you a chance to respond, grabbing your arm and leading you away. Kyunghee is surprisingly spry for a woman her age, and you follow after her with some difficulty as she marches through the throngs of conversing people, all the way to the line at the open bar.

“I’d like you to meet someone,” she says, gesturing at the man standing at the end of the line with his back to you. “{Name}, this is my son, Hoseok.”

The man turns around at the sound of his name, a warm, affable smile stretched across his face. “Hi, I’m H—” he begins, but he’s cut off by your sharp intake of breath. His eyes go wide, his smile fading as his mouth falls open, and you’re certain you’re wearing an even more dumbfounded expression. “It’s you,” he says, his voice hoarse.

“Wh-what… how…” You trail off, speechless. The words flounder and die in your throat as your brain struggles to process this development, and you practically feel the way the gears in your head churn to a stuttering halt.

Because this man standing before you, the one that Kyunghee has just introduced as her son, is none other than Jay. He looks completely and utterly devastating in a navy waistcoat and matching slacks, a green tie shaped like a Christmas tree knotted loosely around the white collar of his shirt. His dark hair is parted, his undercut exposed, and you can’t tear your gaze away from the loose strand that has fallen across his forehead.

“H-hi.”

Jay—Hoseok—swallows. “Hi.”

Kyunghee glances between the two of you, her brows furrowing. “I take it you two already know each other?”

Hoseok’s ears begin taking on a scarlet tinge, the color spreading to his cheeks as he struggles to find his vocabulary again. “I—yeah. Yeah, we’ve met.”

“Right. Do I even want to know how?” she asks dubiously, before shaking her head and huffing out a sigh. “No, forget I asked. I don’t want to know. I’ll just leave you two to… catch up.”

Waving goodbye, Kyunghee disappears back into the crowd of partygoers milling around. Hoseok turns back to you, sucking in a deep breath, and you fight the urge to stare down at your toes as his gaze roves across your face.

“I can’t believe this,” he says, breaking the silence that’s fallen between you at last. “My mom’s been talking about you for months, but I never imagined that it’d be you.”

“You’re telling me,” you reply, finally having recovered your voice. “Kyunghee brings you up all the time, but I never thought… I mean, we didn’t even know each other’s names, and now…” You shrug. “Here we both are.”

“It’s a pretty crazy coincidence, huh?”

“Definitely.”

A beat passes, and then two. You’re fully aware that you’re staring, but you don’t dare blink, afraid that he’ll disappear if you close your eyes. Of all the things that you thought might happen tonight, this particular meeting wasn’t even close to making the list. Never would you have thought that the man you only knew as Jay would turn out to be Kyunghee’s son. Never would you have connected Jay to the photographed little boy in yellow suspenders on Kyunghee’s desk, or realized that they were one and the same.

From behind you, someone loudly clears their throat. Another voice calls for you to get a move on, already, and both you and Hoseok belatedly realize that you are still standing in line for the open bar. Hoseok’s eyes go wide again, and you nearly tread on his toes when you both try to move forward. “After you,” he says with a chuckle, gesturing for you to go in front of him, and that’s enough to break the tension. You step ahead of him with a laugh, catching up to the line, and Hoseok doesn’t stray far as he follows your lead.

“So, what are you drinking?” he asks, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Vodka soda with a twist?”

“Actually, I think I’m going to stick with wine tonight,” you reply, peering at the bottles lined up on the counter. “What about you?”

“Hmm. Jack and coke, I think. Nothing else is really calling my name right now.”

Grabbing your drinks, the two of you begin searching for a place to sit. You spot Kyunghee at a table near the front, and she smiles knowingly and offers you a thumbs-up when she catches your eye. Eventually, you settle on a table near the Christmas tree, the lights glimmering off the glasses and reflecting off your knife as you pick it up to butter a slice of crusty bread from the basket in the center. Hoseok follows your lead, grabbing a piece for himself, and the two of you munch in silence for a few seconds before Hoseok breaks it.

“You know, my mom says you’re the perfect girl for me” he says with a dry little chuckle. “Think she’s right?”

“I don’t know,” you answer. “It’s funny, though—Kyunghee’s been telling me the same thing. She sings your praises all the time.”

Hoseok laughs and scratches the back of his neck. “Oh, jeez, that’s kind of embarrassing. I’m glad she’s saying good things, at least.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you tell him, grinning. “She’s only shown us one photo album from your childhood.”

His face crumples. “Was it the Disneyland one?”

You nod, fighting back laughter, and watch as Hoseok groans and lets his forehead meet the linen-covered tabletop with a dull thunk.

“I don’t like rollercoasters,” he mumbles into the tablecloth, his voice muffled by the material. “They make me queasy.”

“Even now?” you ask, and he nods.

“Yep.”

The clinking of a fork against a wineglass—amplified and broadcast through an array of invisible speakers built into the restaurant’s walls—interrupts any further conversation. You twist in your seat to watch your company’s leadership give their opening remarks, listening as they congratulate everyone for a great year and wish you a happy holiday season. The servers begin going out with plates of food, and you thank them as they set yours down. Hoseok does the same before raising his glass in your direction, clearing his throat and offering you a crooked little smile.

“Here’s to second meetings.”

“Third, if you count the store earlier,” you correct, and he chuckles and nods in agreement before clinking his drink against yours.

You spend the entirety of dinner chatting with Hoseok, getting to know him beyond the few facts Kyunghee has mentioned and what little you’ve gleaned from texting him the last two months. He tells you all about his dance studio, Hope World, where he teaches both contemporary dance and the occasional Pilates class. You find out that in addition to rollercoasters, he also dislikes sour foods and raisins, but he loves mint chocolate and sweet and sour pork. He also has a very low tolerance for alcohol—something he tells you as he tilts the rest of his drink into his mouth. “Should I be worried?” you ask as he sets his glass back down, and he chuckles and shakes his head, sending the loose tendril of hair flopping across his forehead.

Dessert is served, and subsequently eaten. The music is turned up, and people slowly begin finding their way to the open space that serves as an impromptu dancefloor. Hoseok rises to his feet and extends a hand toward you, and you only hesitate for the briefest of seconds before accepting it. He leads you out amongst the other swaying couples, his hand finding its way to the curve of your waist, and you rest your hand on his shoulder as he begins guiding you in a slow, simple waltz.

“So?” Hoseok’s voice is a low murmur, soft and gentle against the shell of your ear. “What’s the verdict?”

You blink. “The verdict?”

Even without looking, you can tell that he’s smiling. You can hear it in the lilt of his voice, and imagine it in the curve of his lips. “About me,” he clarifies, carefully pulling back so you can spin in a circle beneath his outstretched arm. “About us. My mom will never let me hear the end of it if she turns out to be right, but I still wanna know. So what are you thinking?”

“Are you asking if I think we’re perfect for each other?” you ask, giggling. “I don’t know if I believe in all that, to be quite honest. Destiny and soulmates—I mean, doesn’t it seem a little too good to be true?”

Hoseok hums. “Maybe. But considering all that’s happened to us in the last couple of months, don’t you think there’s a chance that it's all more than simple coincidence?”

“Maybe,” you concede. “Still, I don’t know if I can give you a verdict just yet. We haven’t even gone on a date.”

“We did do things a little backwards,” Hoseok admits, tugging you close and winding his arm around your waist. “Let me make it up to you, then. Are you free tomorrow?”

“What if I am?” you challenge.

“Then, I’d like to take you out for breakfast,” he replies without missing a beat.

The prospect of a proper meal with Hoseok Jung does something funny to your insides. Still, something makes you hesitate, and you avert your gaze as you search for your next words. “I wasn’t expecting to end tonight with a date,” you admit slowly. “I honestly didn’t even think you were interested in… well, anything beyond sex, to be honest.”

Hoseok’s face creases into a frown, and you look up again when he murmurs your name. “I understand why you would think that,” he says. “Really, I do. But honestly? I had every intention of texting you and asking you out properly. I was going to play it cool and wait a few days, which was stupid in retrospect. And then you texted me first.”

“I texted y—” You trail off. “Oh, god.”

“It seemed like you’d been drinking,” Hoseok says with a shrug, and you press a finger to his lips before he can say anything more. You remember the night in question, and you remember the bottle of wine you’d consumed. And you definitely remember the photographs you’d sent of yourself, and the ones Hoseok had been kind enough to send in return.

“Wait, so you were going to ask me out? And then I… I sexted you?”

Hoseok nods, and you groan and bury your face into his chest.

“I can’t believe this,” you mutter, and you feel laughter rumble through his chest before a hand comes up to stroke along your back.

“Believe me, I’m not complaining,” he assures you. “But I’d still really like to take you out, so what do you say?”

His gaze doesn’t leave yours for a second as he awaits your answer, and your heart skips a beat when you look up to see the earnestness in his eyes and the hesitant smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Breakfast sounds wonderful,” you whisper, and the smile that blossoms on your companion’s face is nothing short of radiant.

“Good,” he says. “Great. Breakfast tomorrow, then. Now, can I kiss you?”

You’re already pushing up to your tiptoes, your fingers fisting in the soft hair at his nape. “God, yes.”

///

“Hey, you made it!”

You beam. “Hi.”

You and Hoseok are about to commence your first date, having just sat down at a cozy little café for breakfast. Hoseok has pulled your chair out in true gentlemanly fashion, and you can’t help but smile over your menu at the few lingering snowflakes that have yet to melt into his dark hair.

“So, here we are,” you remark. “Our fourth meeting.”

Hoseok’s lips stretch into his signature grin, breathtakingly bright and infectious. “And hopefully many more.”

You grin at him. “Yeah? Too bad this is breakfast, because I’d drink to that.”

He leans forward, his grin widening. “Next time,” he says as his hand finds its way around yours, his fingers slotting comfortably into the spaces between your own. “We can do dinner, maybe. Or I can cook for you. But for now, I’m just happy that we’re finally doing this.”

You give his hand a soft squeeze. “Me too.”

“Just promise me one thing?”

The sudden seriousness of his tone has your brow furrowing in concern. “Sure, of course,” you reassure. “What is it?”

He winces. “Please don’t tell my mom about all the dick pics.”

#hoseok #hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #bts smut #bts scenarios #hoseok scenarios #jhope #jung hoseok #bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fic #kpop scenarios #hoseok x you #strangers to lovers!au #strangers to lovers #lia writes #gonna change that stupid summary if i can think of anything better LOL #my brain went all mushy on me idk what's happening

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dreamescapeswriting · 3 years

Text

BTS Reaction || Octopus Toy [Request]

A/N: Aren’t the toys just the cutest!!! I’m going to get one eventually and just start creating an army of them in my bedroom >.<

SEOKJIN:

Jin knew what the stuffed toys were supposed to be, he'd bought you one specifically so that he would be able to tell when you were mad or upset about something but you hadn't used them until tonight. The two of you were bickering like an old married couple would but he took it too far, jokingly insulting you until you held direct eye contact with him and picked up the stuffed animal.

"Babe, it was a joke," He stuttered out when he watched you getting ready to turn the octopus inside out while you shook your head,

"It's already in motion," You whispered as you held it up, keeping your eyes locked with his,

"No. Babe," He begged but you continued.

"It's too late, you pissed me off." You mumbled turning the octopus to show the red side of her with the angry face as you pouted at him folding your arms over your chest as he began to kiss you all over your face. Apologising for what he said, tickling your sides until you began laughing begging him to stop promising to change the octopus back to normal if he just stopped.

YOONGI:

Yoongi knew he fucked up before he even walked in the door, tonight was your anniversary and he'd missed coming home for dinner because he fell asleep on the sofa in his studio from working so hard all day.

"Please be awake, please be awake," He begged as he walked through the front door, walking into the living room to find your red octopus toy sitting on the coffee table with its angry face with a note underneath it and he sighed.

Food in the oven. Heat it up before going to bed. Love you xx Although you were angry with him you were never going to make him go hungry but Yoongi wasn't bothered about eating, he picked up the stuffed toy and headed up to the bedroom. Sliding into the bed behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist, you snuggled back against him and smiled weakly seeing the stuffed toy sitting in front of you.

"I fell asleep at work again," He whispered in your ear, he knew it wasn't a real excuse but he knew you understood what that meant, that he had been working so hard he was losing track of time.

"Just make sure you get some sleep now, I want you well-rested." You whispered, rolling over to face him so you could lay your head on his chest.

HOSEOK:

You had never been good at showing your emotions and Hoseok knew that which was why he had invested in different Octopus toys, all different colours so that they would show different emotions, Red meaning angry, Blue meaning sad and so on. It was all so he could tell what you were feeling with one look at the stuffed toy,

"I don't understand what the big deal is, I thought you would love to go out," You stared at him as he had his back to you, you shook your head trying to explain to him why spending the day with his ex-girlfriend wasn't a day you wanted to do,

"We're good friends now, there's no reason for you not to like it." He laughed, rooting through the wardrobe for something to wear, he couldn't see how angry you were in the face so you picked up the blue and red octopi before throwing them in his direction, hitting him on the head before landing in front of him.

"Oh." He laughed looking at them,

"She makes me...I don't know," You sighed as he walked over to you, there was something about her that made you uneasy and you didn't want to spend the day with her.

"Then we won't go," He promised you, kissing the top of your head as he got up to make an excuse for not going.

NAMJOON:

All day long Namjoon had his head in the new book he'd recently gotten, normally it wouldn't bother you but this was the first time in months he'd gotten a day off and instead of spending it with you he was engrossed in a book hardly looking up from the pages.

"Babe!" He yelled out as he finally looked up for the first time in hours but he barely held eye contact with you as he began to give details in what was happening in his book so you picked up the nearby octopus toy, turning it to its green side to show you were annoyed and all you did was place it on your head for the next time he would look at you.

"It turns out that he's been the-" He stopped when he saw the unimpressed look on your face that almost matched the pouting Octopus toy,

"You've been ignoring me all day," You whined as he finally closed the book, pulling you over to him as he began to cuddle you, kissing you all of your face as he gave you all his attention.

JIMIN:

The collection of small reversible octopus toys were beginning to grow over time, whenever Jimin would see one that he knew you didn't have back home he would purchase it, having no idea what they did and that they were reversible.

"Do you even know what these are?" You finally asked as he poured out four of them onto the bed getting just as excited as you were whenever he bought them home with him.

"Stuffed toys, you love them." He smiled sitting on the edge of the bed and watching as you took one of them and began turning it inside out to show the other side of the toy was an angry-looking octopus with a red face.

"They're supposed to help express emotions." You laughed as he began turning all of the ones he had gotten you inside out and smiling happily as they all were different colours from one another,

"You could start your own army of octopi," He gasped as he looked from the stuffed toys to your face as you laughed at him.

TAEHYUNG:

Taehyung had no idea what the stuffed Octopi toys meant when he bought them for you, he just thought they were so cute and he had been seeing them everywhere and thought you might enjoy them. It wasn't until he was late home for the sixth time that week that he walked into the house he shared with you to find around 20 Octopi looking up at him from the floor, all with mad faces showing so that they were on their angry side.

"Babe?" He called out, walking through the house to try and find you but when he found you, you were pretending to pay attention to the TV that was playing a random movie instead of listening to him.

"I got caught in the studio," He tried to explain but all you did was reach forward for another Octopus toy, turning it inside out and sitting onto the table in front of you to show you were still upset about it. You weren't mad at him for being late you were mad that he never told you when he was going to be late home and it had been the sixth time that week, all you wanted to do was spend time with the person you loved.

"I will make it up to you and the octopi that all seem super mad at me," He promised, sliding into the seat beside you as he pulled you into a tight embrace, kissing the side of your head as you slowly lent forward and changed the octopus back to the happy side it was normally at.

JUNGKOOK:

Jungkook had been seeing them all over the internet so of course, he had to get some of them for you and him to have, he had different ones lined up on the end of the bed when you came home.

"What's this?" You laughed looking at him as he smiled at you,

"Have you seen those videos? They change when you turn them inside out to show what we're feeling," You laughed as he showed you what he meant, turning a grey coloured octopus into a red sad-faced one,

"I could always tell you how I'm feeling," You poked fun at him as you reached for the pink toy, smiling when you felt how soft and squishy it was.

"But this is so much more fun," He pouted at you, turning another one around so it was pouting at you, you rolled your eyes at him,

"Babe-" You stopped talking when an octopus was placed in front of your face,

"Look at his face and tell me you don't love him," He whined at you, wiggling it around until you finally agreed that they were cute even if they were useless in your relationship.

Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @rjsmochii @taestannie @kneel-begyourpardon @sw33tnight @sweeneyblue1 @innersooya @agustdjoon @jin-from-the-block @acciocriativity @mwitsmejk

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scriptaed · 3 years

Text

cherry blossom avenue [teaser]

❀ genre: angst/fluff; arranged marriage!au; f2l!au;

❀ pairing: jin x reader;

❀ length: ~20k;

❀ synopsis: college would’ve been unbearable if it weren’t for your wallowing sessions with your best friend jin over a shared “forever alone” woe, so it really was only a matter of time until the two of you sealed a shoddy promise to betroth the other at the age of 27. perhaps it was only a silly joke to you then, but you should’ve known better nonetheless; because when a wedding invitation arrives five years later down the road with his name signed next to another’s, feelings that were once buried begin to blossom once again.

❀ coming 1/19 at 7 P.M. PST;

❀ a/n: yes, i posted a teaser half a year ago but here’s a little snippet that i finally got around to writing!

POSTED AS OF 1/19

“Hey, I said I don’t plan on being forever alone.”

“Right, right,” you brush him off, “tell me that when you actually get a girlfriend—actually, tell me that when you find someone to marry who doesn’t run for their life just one month into your relationship.”

“‘Marry?!’” he gawks at your demand. “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet and you’re talking about marriage?!”

“What?” you turn to face him, cheek resting in hand. “Didn’t you say the world would soon recognize your charms?”

“Hmph, well,” he says with a jutted lower lip, “definitely sooner than you.”

“Really?” you gape at his bold proclamation despite clearly being the one with the upperhand. “You really think you’re gonna get married before me?”

Your best friend doesn’t even bother glancing at you before answering, “bet.”

“Okay, if you win, then I’ll eat the crust to your breads whenever you want. I’ll even throw in a bonus for you and spare your wife from having to see fetus photos of you in college,” you can only snicker at the lightbulb that goes off in his widened eyes. “And if I win, then you’ll have to eat my crust and delete all the ugly photos you have of me on your phone.”

“Sorry, can’t do. That would take me an eterni—”

“—shut up.”

“Okay, fine, bet,” he cackles, straightening his back and stretching his arms out before him, “and what if neither of us ever get married?”

“Hm,” you purse your lips, “good point. Should we set a time cap to our bet? Ideally, if I want to have a stable job and income by 25, have children by 30, enjoy two or three years of marriage without kids, then…”

“Why do you have to have children by 30?” Jin frowns. “Why set all these unrealistic standards on yourself?”

Putting a finger to hush his lips, you almost find yourself distracted by the plush texture of his lips. Quickly, you answer, “long story short: parents.”

“Ah,” he utters even as your fingers are pressed to his lips, “ditto.”

“Let’s set the cap to 27,” you propose. “If neither of us get married by the age of 27, then we’ll just call off the bet. But damn—” the two of you simultaneously lean your chins into your palms “—that means we’re really gonna be a disappointment to our parents forever, huh?”

A loud, heavy sigh escapes the both of you; and while you stay pouting into your hands, staring into the fresh green grass on the downside of the hill off in the distance, Jin props his hands back against the blanket and cranes his neck back to look off into the distant sky. You hadn’t noticed it until now, but for a devilishly dashing guy like Jin—broad shoulders, facial features that could only be gifted, and a prominent Adam’s apple, especially with his head rolled to the back like this—you have to admit his lonely status must have been much more of a choice to Jin than it is for you; because even for someone like you, his best friend who gets to stare at his profile for as long you desire in all its glory, you have yet to become desensitized to his dazzling visuals that is anything but normal.

As much as you hate to admit it, even now, with a clear blue sky, an array of warm pastry aroma, and a field of freshly cut grass, you can’t help but become enamored by the person before you.

And when another sigh befalls his lips and the two of you have settled into a comfortable silence and a breeze passes by the both of you, rustling a dozen or so of the hovering cherry petals to grace the surrounding air, he speaks.

“Let’s get married if we’re still single by then.”

“...huh?”

“I said,” only his eyes move to peer down at you effortlessly, “if we both lose the bet, then let’s get married.”

Your eyes pop and you can only utter the few words that reach you, “to each other?”

“No, to food,” he says sarcastically, grabbing a piece of his bread and stuffing your face with it when you continue to stare at him and he shuffles awkwardly in place. Looking away, he mumbles, “of course to each other, who else, dummy?”

“Uh….huh,” you blankly nod your head as a series of laughs are stifled by the bread. “Okay, and you’re being serious?”

He doesn’t look at you when he answers, “uhuh.”

“Pffft, and you’re saying you would keep that promise? That you would even remember this moment? We’re just gonna marry? Like that? And you’re assuming I’m just going to agree?”

“Hey,” he turns to frown at you, “why wouldn’t you agree? I’m offering you a once in a lifetime opportunity!”

Munching down on the bread, you continue to play along in amusement, “really? And what exactly are you offering me? You know I have high standards right? I’m not just going to accept any proposal.”

“I know. That’s why you’re still single…” the boy deadpans, even as you glare at his remark, “...but, that’ll all change when you witness my proposal! Hear me out. First, I’ll cook every meal for you for the entire day.”

“You almost already do that except for breakfast.”

“Okay, but I’ll hone my skills by then. It’ll be even better than any restaurant we’ve ever been to.”

You raise a brow, “so you think food is the way to my heart?”

“No offence, but yes, that’s why we’re friends,” he quips before continuing, “second, I’ll bring flowers to you at work. Everyone at your job will be burning with jealousy!”

“Because of your public display of affection, which we both clearly disdain?”

“No, because they would think you have such a handsome boyfriend like me!” he wags his finger. “Plus, who doesn’t like a little PDA when they’re about to be proposed to?”

“Okay, fair enough, but those are two promises you’re making for the proposal. A marriage is a lifetime commitment. Why would I want to marry you just for food and flowers?”

“Hmmm, even for someone like you, I’m surprised you have so many requirements,” Jin hums, tapping his finger on his chin. “How about this, I’ll make three more promises for our marriage.”

“Quit saying ‘our marriage,’ I keep shuddering at the thought of it,” you remark as you rub your arms.

“Third promise, I won’t break your achey breaky heart,” he deliberately emphasizes each word in a fruitful attempt to send shivers down your spine. “Fourth promise, I’ll remember all of my promises.”

“Okay… and fifth?”

“I’ll keep all of my promises! And I’ll do it all right here at this spot. Our spot.”

“What? That’s dumb,” you giggle. “Just keep at four, then.”

“No,” he grabs the bagel in your hands and fills his mouth without a second of hesitation, “ish eashier to wememba fibe promishesh.”

“Right, right, right,” you nod, pressing your lips in a vain attempt to muffle your chuckles. “And what promises would you want me to make?”

“You?” he quirks a brow before shaking his head. “Nothing. You’re fine. I like you just the way you are.”

Huh. Has Jin always been this nice? Because you don’t quite recall ever feeling the heat of an oncoming blush of your cheeks or the bashful flutters that come with your best friend’s witty remarks. Maybe the topic of marriage has thrown you off today or maybe it’s the aftermath of a high having just graduated college and being thrusted into adulthood, but the stretched smile that adorns your lips is an undeniable fact that your confidence and spontaneity has reached its pinnacle.

Grinning, you lean across Jin’s lap to grab and unlock his phone to access the camera, “okay, wanna take a photo to commemorate this moment?”

“Gee, if you want a photo of me that bad, you could just ask me to send you a selfie, y’know—what the,” Jin starts to cackle when you raise the phone into the air and suddenly press your cheeks against his without warning. With a side-finger gun to frame his cheeks and chin, your best friend readies his pose as you wear a mischievous smile. “Hurry up and take the picture already, Y/N. My time is money.”

“Hey Jin,” you call out to him with your eyes still fixated to the phone screen, as does his.

The boy almost drags his words, “now what?”

“You’ve never had a girl kiss you on the cheeks before either, right?”

“What—”

—click.

“There,” you chirp jubilantly, grinning at the stunned look on his face, his eyes popping and his lips just slightly parted but failing to utter a single word as his hand grazes the spot on his cheeks where your lips had just touched, “now you have zero excuses to forget our promise!”

229 notes · View notes

yslkook · 3 years

Text

gorgeous

#corporate masterlist

summary: it’s the office holiday party, and when you show up wearing this dress, jungkook doesn’t know what to do with himself. (jk pov) word count: 3014 warnings: alcohol, cursing, smut 18+- jk jerks it in a bathroom, he’s very into oc and she doesnt know it, jk is pining a/n: here is a lil holiday-esque drabble. this story takes place about a month after the team returns to seoul from ch 6. pls enjoy this first attempt at smut for jk. ty to @taestybae for her endless support <333

Jungkook doesn’t know what to expect from this office holiday party- apparently there had been a huge budget surplus this year and the regulatory department had decided to go all out. The party planners had booked an evening at one of the ballrooms in one of swankiest hotels in Seoul. Meaning that the party itself was semi-formal, or close to it.

Meaning that Jungkook would rather be at home playing video games and eating pizza than dressed in a suit. He’s tired, it’s been a long few months, and he just wants to go home.

But he plays the part, and he plays the part well. Namjoon introduces him to a few people, higher ups, after he grabs a glass of spiced wine from the open bar.

Maybe he can at least get a little drunk. As a treat.

His thoughts drift to you for a moment. He wonders what you’re doing. Maybe he’ll text you later, if he’s feeling a little brave. Maybe with some liquid courage.

He’s already looking forward to it. But he doesn’t have to, because you walk in through the doors with Seokjin on your arm.

Jungkook audibly chokes on his wine when he spots you. Namjoon gives him a strange look but Jungkook ignores it, in favor of staring at you. Jungkook’s throat goes dry the closer both you and Seokjin get to him, Namjoon and Sana.

He can’t be next to you, not when you look like that. Not when you look so much more pretty than anything his own dreams could have conjured up.

“Hi, Jungkook,” You say, your voice low and sweet at the same time.

He nearly faints.

“Hi,” Jungkook mumbles, “What are you doing here?”

“Huh? Should I leave?” You tease, pointing at the door with your thumb.

“No, I just- I thought this was a reg thing?” Jungkook asks desperately, digging himself into a deeper hole. You only smile even wider at him.

“Oh, am I not good enough company for you people then?” You scoff, “Maybe we should leave, Sana.”

“No,” Jungkook nearly whines, “That’s not what I meant-”

Jin is having a blast watching Jungkook tripping over his words as the younger man confirms his own already existing suspicions.

Namjoon tells Jungkook that he had invited you and Sana and you reply saying that you had come along with Jin.

What you don’t say is that Jin probably would have found a way to drag you to this party regardless. His jaw had dropped when he had picked you up from your house and you’re flustered under his gaze, something that has only happened a handful of times since you’ve known Jin-

“What? Is it too much? I thought they said semi-formal,” You panic, “Jin, I don’t have anything else! Should I go change? Fuck it, I’m not coming. Jin! Will you say something!”

“You look good, stupid,” Jin says easily and unabashedly lets his eyes roam, “You’re sexy.”

“Oh.”

Your dark green dress hugs your curves but still leaves enough to the imagination. Jungkook’s eyes dart to your shoulders and the dip of your chest, where he sees more of your tattoo that he’s ever seen before. He swallows nervously and when you walk with Sana to the bar, he sees the slit in your dress and an eyeful of your thigh.

Jungkook chugs his drink. The pink flush of his cheeks can be attributed to alcohol after all.

You’re perfectly elegant and sexy, unaware that Jungkook is having a minor breakdown while trying to stave off popping a boner at this very public event.

He’s not having much luck.

Jungkook is now on his third glass of spiced wine, in an attempt to stop himself from searching for you. No matter where you are in the room, you seem to pop up in his periphery. Whether you’re speaking to Hae-ri, or you’re shoveling appetizers into your mouth with Seokjin, or you’re speaking with Namjoon’s boss… you always seem to be in his line of vision.

He seems to be one of the youngest people in the regulatory department, a fact that Jungkook’s colleagues seem to always want to bring up. Remarks of how they’re old and of ‘kids these days’ as they look pointedly at him, saying that he’s young and spry are the norm.

It’s annoying and he resists the urge to roll his eyes. He just grins and bears it, going through his third glass of wine much quicker than expected.

These people always say they want change and fresh ideas and somehow refuse to embrace them. It makes Jungkook scoff. He’s happy with his small team of Namjoon, you and Sana. He’s happy that you’re all young at heart and that things aren’t so competitive. He knows he’s blessed in that aspect.

Jungkook is thankful when Seokjin pulls him away to introduce him to his own boss-

“You’re Namjoon’s golden boy,” Seokjin shrugs, “Everyone already knows you.”

He wants to ask, do people know you? But he refrains, not wanting Jin to get the wrong idea. Jungkook shouldn’t be as surprised as he is when he sees you standing next to Namjoon with Jin’s boss and one of her colleagues.

Now he really has to keep himself in check. You make him weak and despite his best attempts to avoid looking at you, his eyes land on you anyway. And how can he not turn his gaze to you?

He’s a goner, and he knew it from the minute he saw you walk into the venue.

Jungkook watches your red lips move as you speak with Seokjin’s boss and he vaguely wonders how your lipstick has remained intact this long. Your laugh is like music in his ears, you even throw your head back in genuine mirth at something that Seokjin’s boss says.

You’re not watching him. So he sips his wine and allows himself to enjoy your presence, all wrapped up in front of him in possibly the prettiest dress on the prettiest woman he’s ever met.

Your whole body shakes as you laugh unabashedly and fully and Jungkook dares to ogle your chest for longer than he should of a colleague. But you’re you, and he’s just a boy.

You’re his dream girl and he’s just a boy.

He wonders what your skin might taste like- you always smell so good, the faint scent of something warm and comforting always surrounds you. Your skin is glowing, the ink on your shoulders shining with the light from the chandeliers above.

And then your thigh peeks out and the sight of your leg sends an arrow of arousal straight down his spine. Jungkook thinks he catches a glimpse of color on your upper thigh but it’s gone as quickly as it comes.

His throat is dry again. He needs another drink.

While he wants to look at you in peace as if you were a painting made just for him, he wants your attention too. Before he can slide into the conversation and see your pretty eyes light up for him, you turn to him on your own.

“Hi,” You murmur to him once it’s clear that Seokjin has steered the conversation with his boss away from you, “Feel like I didn’t get to say hello to you properly earlier.”

“O-oh,” Jungkook mumbles, “No worries.”

“Got any plans for the holidays?” You ask softly. Your voice rings loud and clear in his ears, the sweet taste of wine on his tongue has nothing on what he imagines your lips feel like against his.

“J-just goin’ to my parents’. My brother’s coming for a few days, with his girlfriend,” Jungkook says, letting himself relax around you. It’s easy for him to do, when you give him a smile and a laugh that makes his heart lurch.

“Oh! You have a brother,” You reply, “Older or younger?”

“Older.”

“Ah, so you’re the baby of the house,” You tease, looking at him over the rim of your glass. Jungkook is momentarily distracted by the glossy taupe of your nails. And then his eyes travel up your fingers, as he catches exactly two small tattoos over your knuckles.

“I’m not the baby,” Jungkook complains and your teasing eyes melt away, instead replaced by a warm ember of something more. Your eyes are dark and hooded as you take him in, and it sets his blood alight.

“I know, Jungkook,” You murmur, your voice low and raspy. The corner of your lips quirk up into a smirk and all Jungkook can do is swallow his nerves down. He feels like he’s vibrating, just from your simple look. He preens in your gaze, wanting any and all of your attention.

Not for the first time, he struggles to keep his eyes above your neckline. Jungkook chugs the rest of his wine hastily and your eyebrows raise in mild curiosity.

Jungkook is struggling to maintain his composure and if he doesn’t get his shit together, you’ll surely notice the small tent in his pants. Only you, looking so gorgeous in green can pull this kind of reaction from him with just a few words.

Jungkook is a sucker.

The hungry look in your eyes passes and instead you ask him about his brother and his family. He falls into easy conversation with you, telling you about last year’s holiday and how he had baked about fifty cookies too many for his family so he had eaten them all instead. He asks you what you usually do for the holiday, to which you reply that sometimes you and Grandma spend it with Seokjin and his family.

The lines between colleagues and friendship have long been blurred between you and Jungkook. At least, that’s how you feel. Normally, you wouldn’t offer that kind of information up to a colleague. But Jungkook feels like a little more than a colleague to you.

“Uh. Do you want to sit with me and eat?” You ask almost shyly and Jungkook feels his cheeks heating up. He nods immediately and follows you to the buffet line, enjoying the way your ass looks in that dress and eating up any glimpse of your leg he can get.

Happy holidays, indeed.

“How messy do you think these people get after a few glasses of wine?” You muse, observing the higher ups chatting with each other on the other side of the room.

“Pretty damn messy,” Jungkook replies, “Look at Hae-ri, she’s wasted. And Yunho too-”

“Maybe there will be a day where we can act like that and not worry about whether we’ll be fired or not the next day…”

“It’s all about control,” Jungkook says knowingly, “You just gotta fake it till you make it.”

“Don’t gotta tell me that twice,” You scoff, “I feel like I can never get drunk at these things. Feels like big brother is watching, you know?”

“Can’t relate,” Jungkook says smoothly, “What’s the point of a work party if you won’t take advantage of the open bar?”

You laugh loudly, and Jungkook nearly jumps when your hand floats over his forearm to steady yourself. Jungkook sharply turns his face towards yours, meeting your electric eyes. You cross one leg over the other, the skirt of your dress falling a little bit to the side.

And Jungkook sees even more of your upper thigh tattoo than he had before. Now he knows for certain that your ink wasn’t just a figment of his imagination.

“Sorry,” You mumble.

He doesn’t know what you’re apologizing for, but he misses the heat of your hand when you place it back in your lap.

When you ask him if he wants to get seconds at the buffet with you, he immediately nods. You say nothing as he reflexively puts his hand at the small of your back. He’s a man, but he’s a gentleman, after all.

The simple touch and heat of your skin through the fabric of your dress is enough of a memory for him to store for later. He allows himself the luxury of it and when you stand a little closer to him, he can’t help himself from letting his thoughts wander.

Jungkook needs to leave. He needs to either find a bathroom or get his ass home, because the longer he’s in your presence, the harder it is for him to conceal himself from you.

Specifically, his boner. His cock seems to jump whenever you’re in his line of sight and it’s messing with his head.

He’s painfully hard by the point in the night when speeches from the higher ups are being made. They’re thanking the department for their hard work for the year and wishing everyone a prosperous new year. Meanwhile Jungkook isn’t paying attention.

He’s tipsy and he’s thinking about how you’d fit in the crevices of his hands. He’s thinking about how your hips might feel in his hands, how the column of your throat would taste, how you’d look with his head buried in between your inked thighs.

He wants to shove his face into your tits and he nearly groans out loud at the thought. He wonders how his cock would look in your hands, how you’d stroke him, how your mouth would feel…

Jungkook sneaks away from the ballroom in search of a private bathroom. He leaves quietly, not wanting to answer questions. Not when he’s this painfully hard, and the mere thought of you in that dress is seemingly enough for him to cum in his pants.

He swiftly walks through the halls with his jacket subtly covering the front of his pants. He’s mortified that it’s come to this, but if he doesn’t make himself cum in the next ten minutes he might explode.

Jungkook finally finds a bathroom and shoves himself inside, immediately standing in front of the mirror and pulling his belt off.

He’s so desperate. He wonders if you’d like that, if you’d like his desperation that stems from you.

Jungkook pulls his cock out of the confines of his boxers and strokes himself slowly at first. Teasingly. He sighs softly at the relief that his right hand gives him.

Fuck. Would you like that? Would you like that he’s this desperate for you? Would you praise him?

He squeezes his eyes shut, pretending that it’s your hand on his cock and not his own. He can see you in his mind, your lipstick beyond smudged, eyes watery and your dress rumpled.

He can see your tattoos on display for him, the ones on your shoulder, your chest and your thigh. Maybe you’d even tell him that they all mean.

The thought sends another rush of blood to his cock. He pumps himself faster, groaning softly and biting his bottom lip.

He imagines you telling him to be loud for you, to let you hear him. In that low, sexy voice.

Jungkook moans your name into the empty bathroom. He’s long been leaking precum from his cock, perhaps since the moment he laid eyes on you. He’s so close…

Everything suddenly feels magnified- his touch on his cock, the thought of your tits spilling over the bodice of your dress. The feel of your lips on his.

His mind runs wild when it comes to you.

Jungkook strokes himself even faster, only to stop abruptly. Start, stop. Start, stop. He whines to himself and peels his eyes open to watch himself in the mirror. His eyes are hooded, cheeks reddened and lips pouty and swollen from biting down.

He needs more than his own hand. He needs friction.

Without a second thought, he plasters his hands over the counter and rocks his hips into the edge of the surface. With a loud, broken moan he grinds into the counter. Wondering how your pussy might feel instead of the cold surface. Or your hands. Or your tits.

He slows down to a slow grind, teasing himself with the thought of you. What would you look like when he made you cum? What would you look like when you came on your own fingers?

He speeds up a little more, groaning and whimpering as the need to cum quickly approaches. The knot in his belly has become even tighter, ready to burst. Jungkook feels like his skin is on fire, his hands doing little to alleviate it.

He pulls off of the counter and strokes himself harshly with rough tugs, groaning your name under his breath. Jungkook thinks about you, waking up next to you after a nap together, bringing you ice cream after a long day, kissing you just because he can in his fantasies.

Thick ropes of white coat his hands and spray across the counter recklessly as he moans brokenly for nobody to hear.

Jungkook’s knees feel weak as he tries to regain his breath. He braces himself on the counter before taking a paper towel to clean himself up. After, he wets a paper towel with soap and cleans up the counter and the mirror.

His cheeks are blazing once the gravity of what he just did hits him. How is he supposed to face you now?

He doesn’t regret it. You’re his dream girl.

It’s no surprise that soon after Jungkook emerges from the bathroom, the closing remarks are just about to finish. That’s great timing because once they do, he’s booking it out of the hotel as fast as he can.

And that’s exactly what he does. He leaves, only saying goodbye to Namjoon and makes a beeline for the exit. His Uber is already waiting for him.

He doesn’t notice you looking for him to say goodbye.

It’s later, when he’s in the safety of his bedroom and in his pajamas, that his phone lights up-

you: hey, u must have left before I found you. Just wanted to say bye and happy holidays Jk 💓

Jungkook can’t help his heart doing cartwheels or the smile on his face at your text.

He also can’t help his cock from jumping, either.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #bts x reader

263 notes · View notes

the-manor-7 · 3 years

Text

BTS x Reader Reaction: You Have An Unusual Allergy

A/N: Just a bit of background for this one.

I myself have a lot of weird allergies, including multiple to different kinds of fruits, grains, vegetables, etc.

All of these in here are from personal experience.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jin

You two were just having a nice time cooking together when it happened.

You had tasted an ingredient that he had prepared earlier, and were just doing your thing, to later find your throat begin to itch.

The all too familiar feeling of your neck slowly tightening began slowly and then got stronger, causing you to cough and look around frantically for your pills.

Realizing you had left them in a bag at work, you ran over to the bathroom door, which Jin was inside of.

Frantically pounding on the door, you began to gasp for air, before slumping to the ground, wanting to save your breath.

In a panic, you could hear him washing his hands, throwing open the door to see your shaken state.

“Jagi? What’s wrong?”

Hearing your gasping breaths had him panicked, which promptly led him to call an ambulance.

About an hour later, when you were comfortably in a hospital bed and everything began to calm down, he asked you what had happened.

“Jin, did you put apple in what you were cooking earlier?”

He looked confused, “Well, you I did. What? Is that what caused this?”

When you nodded, he began to feel incredibly guilty.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Jagiya. I didn’t mean to hurt you…”

You just smiled at him and took one of his hands in yours, “It’s not your fault, Jin. You don’t need to worry about it. Besides, you got me over to the hospital in time. Even if there was a mistake that you made, you fixed it, so it’s fine.”

That calmed him down a bit, but after that rest assured that he will not make the same mistake again. Before the two of you go on a date, he will even check with every restaurant beforehand to make sure that they don’t cook with apples, or at least make preparations for your arrival.

He would be incredibly careful after that and make sure you were safe.

Yoongi

You didn’t mean to worry him, you had just wanted to warn him about some possible symptoms, and to know what to do if you started having them.

You were mildly allergic to oats, which you had eaten on purpose, because the only food around at the moment was a granola bar, and you were just starving.

Knowing that you would have a reaction, you immediately took an allergy pill right after, then tried to explain to Yoongi what was going on.

“This doesn’t normally happen, since I just took a pill for it, but if I start to have a harder time breathing, could you just take me to the hospital? I really doubt it will happen, but just in case.”

Your last sentence, which you hoped would mask the fact you just said ‘hospital’, did nothing of the sort.

“Jagi, what do you mean? Why would I need to take you there?” He asked urgently.

“I just ate a granola bar, and I’m allergic to oats. Like I said, I really doubt anything will happen, I was just saying it as a precaution.”

“Jagi, what were you thinking?! Why would you eat that?!”

“I was hungry! And there wasn’t anything else to eat around here.”

“I could have ordered chicken or something, it would have been here in less than fifteen minutes!”

“But I was hungry now! And I still wouldn’t turn down the chicken, by the way.”

Rolling his eyes at you, he ordered the food all the same, but made sure to make you promise to never do this again. You would tell him if you had any other allergies, and he would make sure you never ate them.

I think he would end up being more cautious than you were.

Hoseok

“Jagiya!” He screamed as he came flying over, knocking a peach out of your hand, “Why is that poison within a five foot radius of your body?!”

“What the heck, Hobi?!” You picked the piece of fruit up off the ground and dusted it off with your sleeve, “This isn’t for me! It’s for you, I was just going to put it in the fruit bowl.”

You pointed to the unassuming glass dish sitting on the counter.

“No!” He snatched it out of your hand and held it away from you, “You are going nowhere near this toxic thing! I hereby banish peaches from this house for all eternity!”

His antics causing you to laugh, you questioned him, “But don’t you like them? What are you going to eat?”

“Anything else! I will not risk my Jagi’s health for my tastebuds!”

(I’m sorry, but why is this gif so perfect for the reaction I wrote?? I wrote it and then picked the gifs, I swear)

Namjoon

“Jagiya.” He scolded you, looking down at you as you sat on the couch with a bag of cashews in your hand, “Should you be eating those?”

Sighing, you leaned back on the couch and popped another one in your mouth, “No, but I really wanted to. It’s that time of the month, and I was really craving them. Besides, I took a pill right before I started eating, I’ll be fine.”

Snatching the bag out of your hand, he threw it in the trash.

“You just wasted five dollars.” You deadpanned, “And I’m still having cravings, you’re being no help.”

“I can give you five dollars, and I’ll buy you whatever else you want to eat, just don’t be eating things you’re allergic to!”

You paid no mind to his last sentence and focused on the middle part, “Anything I want?”

“Anything you want.”

“Yes!” You jumped up and danced around the room, hurrying to the door, “You’re taking me to the store, and we’re going on a chocolate raid!”

Chucking at you, he just followed you out the door, letting you buy what you wanted, as long as it posed no threat to your health.

Jimin

“Jagiya~”

Jimin came waltzing into the room, holding a plate stacked high with watermelon.

“Do you want some?”

“Of course!” You ran over to your purse and pulled out a bottle of pills, “I just need to take this, and I’ll be right back.”

Taking a glass of water, you popped the pill into your mouth and swallowed it.

Quickly making your way back to where Jimin was, you found him looking all confused.

“What is it?” You questioned as you took a piece of that delicious fruit off of the plate and took a bite.

“Are you allergic to this too, Jagi?”

Nodding, you just took another bite, “Yep, but it’s just one I don’t pay much mind to. I like it too much to omit it from my diet.”

“Jagi…”

“Ah!” You waved a hand in front of your face, “Don’t you go scolding me too! I know what I’m doing, just trust me on this one, ok? I’ll be fine, I know what I’m doing.”

Reluctantly, he gave into your wishes, but he made sure to get a detailed list of your allergies soon after that.

He didn’t want to accidentally feed them to you again. He would be extra careful with this one, even if you told him there was nothing to worry about.

Taehyung

After you quietly excused yourself from a family dinner, Taehyung came to check on you when you hadn’t returned from the bathroom after about ten minutes.

He poked his head in through the door, “Jagiya, is everything alright?”

Looking up from your spot on the edge of the tub, you nodded and gave him a smile, “Yes, I’m just waiting for my throat to calm down. I’m allergic to oysters, so it just gets uncomfortable.”

“Really?” He walked over to you with a worried expression on his face, “Are you alright? Do you need anything?”

Shaking your head, you pointed to the bottle of pills you placed on the counter, “I already took my medicine, it just takes a bit for everything to calm down. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine in a few minutes.”

He would stop bugging you about it, but would keep a close eye on you for the rest of the night. If you showed the slightest bit of discomfort, he would immediately question you about, wanting to make sure you were safe and healthy.

Jungkook

“Yeobo, are you alright?” Jungkook would question you as you were hunched over yourself, trying to gain breathe back into your lungs.

You two were on a date, when all of a sudden you felt your throat start to become uncomfortably tight, causing your lungs to have to work harder to get air to them.

Quickly taking a pill out of your purse, you gestured to the drink in his hand, taking a swig of it before swallowing the medicine.

Watching you intently, he asked again, “Are you alright? Do you need something? What did you eat?”

This had happened before with green peppers, although this time you accidentally ate something with strawberry in it, which caused this reaction.

“What was it this time?”

You scrunched up your nose, knowing the look you were going to get from him, “Strawberry.”

Yep, there it was.

“Strawberry??”

Hitting him on the arm, you just took it slow while your body decided to stop attacking itself, then just went on with your day.

For sure, he would store this trigger away in his memory, but he wouldn’t make a big deal out of it.

You’ve got it handled, and he didn’t want to interfere in something he knew you wouldn’t want him to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hello everyone!

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed.

Please leave a comment/request whenever you would like.

Seriously guys, I would love to hear your ideas.

Thank you and love,

The_Manor

Masterlist

#bts #bts x reader #x reader #bts reactions #bts x reader reactions #jin #seokjin #yoongi #suga #hoseok #j-hope #namjoon #rm #jiminxreader #taehyung #jungkook #allergies #ow

131 notes · View notes

immacaria · 3 years

Text

Box of Memories

Happy belated birthday, A-Sang! Wish you all the joy and love life has reserved for you!

Almost three weeks after the actual birthday I've finally finished this thanks to my dear school (grinds teeth angrily). Anyway, this is a bit short, like almost 4k or something, and I took this insanely amount of time because of school, but it's alright I finished it now. So I hope you guys enjoy this and I can make your day a little brighter with it. As always, stay safe and healthy!

_____________________________________________________________

It was Nie Huaisang’s birthday and Jiang Cheng was more anxious than when he had to survive Nie Mingjue, Lan Xichen and Meng Yao’s shove talk one after the other. For the heavens and all above, they had been dating for four years now and met each since they were five and six! There was no reason for him to be so nervous! They passed so many birthdays, with so many presents exchanged and Jiang Cheng was still nervous. And just because he made the present with his own hands and it turned out horrible!

Like not the ‘you can’t even look at’ type of horrible, but the ‘didn’t meet my expectations exactly what immediately makes it horrible’ type of horrible. He started doing it exactly two days later after Nie Huaisang said he wanted it and guaranteed that nobody would buy it for him, exactly nine months and eight days before his birthday. He had seen it on Pinterest, in a video where a girl was making a “box of memories” (as Jiang Cheng came to call it) for her younger sister.

She had chosen their favourite memory and made something like a box of shadows to show it. There was a light bulb in the middle with various metal plates cut in the shape of the memories. When turned on, the metal plates started to revolve around the light bulb and create images on the wall, recreating the memory with the shadows. Nie Huaisang loved it and showed it to every person who he knew could give one for him or make one. Thankfully, none of them could give it right away which gave Jiang Cheng enough time to plan how he would do it.

It all began with him asking what memory he would use of all his favorites and asked what happened there, memorizing them to the heart and writing everything down the second he saw himself alone. His drawing skills weren’t as good as Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen’s, but as long as they remained a sketch, they would do. After sketching it all, he went to Nie Mingjue and asked him to teach him how to cut the metal plates and arrange them properly in the other metal pieces. Apparently, there was a machine that did that for them, the only thing they needed to do was insert the images and the sizes of the plates and let it do what it needed to do. Which led Jiang Cheng to ask for some draw lessons from Lan Xichen and digital design from Lan Wangji, which cost several years of his life but he guessed he was bound to do everything needed for his boyfriend.

He planned everything on the little planner he bought (if it was specifically brought for that no one needed to know) and every day he ticked something off. Besides the box of memories, he wrote a letter everyday to him and hid it in the last drawer of his wardrobe under piles and piles of clothes. From Open it now to Open it when you are sixty years old and Open it when you are in doubt about us, everyday a letter for 281 days and too much ink, paper and ideas, too much feelings engraved in those. But should he regret it, knowing that it would make Nie Huaisang happy? The boy loved this kind of old, romantic things like handwritten letters, so why shouldn’t he give it to him too? Handwritten letters with little doodles on the edges of the paper and little trinkets.

At the beginning of May, Jiang Cheng started putting it all together, doing the last reviews and adjustments. Once the plates were done, he called Wei Wuxian to help with the electric part of the thing, the shameless idiot being graduated in electrical engineering somehow. He had to endure his little ramble about how he had become so romantic and how considerate of somebody else’s feelings, how he was going miles out of what everyone said was normal. It would be a lie if Jiang Cheng ever said that he wasn’t slightly proud and happy upon hearing that.

They made slow progress but the present was ready six days before the due date, which gave Jiang Cheng enough anxiety and stress for the rest of his life (good thing he took on his mother’s side of genetics and wasn’t getting any white hairs until a very, very old age). Would Nie Huaisang find out the present before his birthday? Would he hate it or love it? Would he simply be neutral about all the gifts? Would he fake liking it? What could possibly happen once he gives it to him? Would it destroy their relationship?

On March 20, Jiang Cheng was about to have a stroke or an aneurysm or both of them probably. Just some more hours and they would see if Nie Huaisang liked the present or not. Since it had been ready, the poor present had been tested countless times to see if it worked properly (it did, thank gods), changed locations incessantly while he wrote every single letter by hand before making a wooden box and putting all he had made in there. The memory box, the 281 letters and some fans he bought in the Yunmeng market that reminded him of Nie Huaisang.

Early on, he had promised Nie Huaisang that he would help him with the birthday’s decorations and preparations for everything . After that, he made a quick run to his house to take a bath and try to calm himself because he couldn’t throw up in the party, he even got time to test it again, watching as Nie Huaisang’s favourite memory of all time played on his bedroom wall. It was practically memorized by now, the way the images followed one by one in quick succession, recreating a story that he could tell even if he had amnesia.

Nie Huaisang, Nie Mingjue and their parents were the main characters in the memory. Nie Huaisang was maybe four or five years old while Nie Mingjue was something like sixteen or seventeen years old and they were travelling to the small cabin they passed the holidays. He always said that that weekend was the best one of his life, one where his entire family was together and happy, complete. This memory in particular was one where Nie Huaisang was being thrown in the air by his father to land in the arms of one of his mothers while Nie Mingjue and their second mother were suffering a heart attack. Even though there was some melancholy in his eyes, he always spoke fondly and laughed about the face his brother made when he landed on their mother’s arms and passed the rest of the weekend guaranteeing that their father wouldn’t do another one of those again.

Jiang Cheng would die as a happy man if he could make him as happy as he was on that day, even if for one day. Well, not die, he was still too young to die, but he would feel fulfilled and satisfied. So, he tried to focus on that when he stepped inside the party, clutching to the wooden box and breathing deep. He’s going to like it, he’s not going to hate me, he’s going to smile because of the present, everything is going to be fine, we are not breaking up. Okay, maybe he was a little bit paranoid and afraid of what was going to happen, but he was fine, he was going to be fine. He just needed to loosen up and enjoy the party until it was time to open the presents.

“A-Cheng!” Nie Huaisang said, throwing his arms around his neck and hiding his face in his neck. Jiang Cheng only had time to pull the box to the side to prevent him from getting hurt before putting an arm around his waist and kissing his temple. “Tell your brother to stop being mean to me on my birthday.”

“If Lan Wangji can’t control him, what makes you think I can?” He said, still holding him. “Happy birthday, Huaisang, many years of life and happiness for you.” He kissed his temple again before stepping away and showing him the present. “For you.”

“Oh, A-Cheng! You didn’t need to! You are already present enough.” He gasped, taking the box of his hands while Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes at him. He always said that but he remembered very well what he did to Jin Zixuan when the man showed up without his present. He didn’t want to be in the same ending of his fury, thank you very much.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” He rolled his eyes again, bending a little to let Nie Huaisang kiss his cheek.

“I don’t know what you gave me, but I already love it.” He smiled brightly at him, walking to the kitchen and carefully choosing a place to put it. The kitchen was loaded with presents, some big, others small, colorful wraps or black and white with an interesting pattern on it, some didn’t even had proper wraps around it. There were a lot of presents and for a moment Jiang Cheng’s brain simply went blank and decided that, for sure, there was one that topped his present. Which was nonsense, but still served to increase his stress and anxiety (once again he thanked his genetics for not getting white hairs early). “C’mon, let’s go to the living room. Da-ge is telling some story from when we were children.”

“Is he telling the green incident? Because if he is, I would rather stay in the kitchen.” And check if the other presents are better than mine so I can throw them out the window.

“Of course not! Da-ge doesn’t remember that story anymore.” He waved him off, entering the room in the exact moment Nie Mingjue said:

“Then a bucket of green paint fell into his head.” His thunderous laugh filled the room as he started to tell the amazing story of how Nie Huaisang managed to dye himself green after he dumped a whole bucket of paint on his head when he was seven years old.

“Da-ge!” He screamed, going red instantly. “What are you doing?!” He yelped, high-pitched, as he threw a cushion at him. “Shut up!”

“What? I was just talking about the green dye you did on your skin.” He laughed again, dodging the cushion and showing his tongue to him. It was strange to see a man of his size acting like that, but sincerely Jiang Cheng sometimes forgot that he too was human and (kind of) young. “Hey, Wanyin, do you want to sit here?”

“Hey, hey, hey. No stealing boyfriends on my birthday or ever, Da-ge. You already have two.” He wrapped himself around his arm, glaring at his brother. “Stop being so selfish, Da-ge.”

“Selfish? Take that back, brat, before I break your legs.” He narrowed his eyes at him, pointing a finger at him.

“It’s his birthday and you don’t get to threaten the birthday boy, Jue-ge.” Lan Xichen sighed, pulling his hand down. He was beside Nie Mingjue and sitting next to Lan Wangji, talking quietly between the two of them before the threats started rolling out.

“Stop covering him, Lan Xichen.” He turned to him as Nie Huaisang pulled him to the bench next to the window and between two high bookshelves full of sketchbooks, some completed, others completely blank.

“So, what’s your present?” He suddenly asked, playing with Jiang Cheng’s fingers.

“What? It’s a fucking surprise, A-Sang, I can’t tell you.” He spurred, furrowing his eyebrows at him.

“But, A-Cheng, yours were the heaviest of it all. What is it?” He shook his arm, doing the puppy eyes. The fucking puppy eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that. Stop, A-Sang.” He growled, avoiding looking at him. “You know I can’t take the puppy eyes.”

“A-Cheng~.” He laid ahead, searching for his eyes. And, heavens, who taught that boy that? Nie Mingjue for sure was not. Maybe Meng Yao. Yeah, definitely Meng Yao. Jiang Cheng was going to kill Meng Yao for teaching Nie Huaisang that. “Please~. I want to know.”

“Ok, ok, ok. Just one part, okay?” Jiang Cheng pushed him away, feeling the back of his neck heating up.

“From how many parts?” His eyes were shining and attentive which meant that he was probably making a million combinations on his head, comparing and guessing what he could possibly ever get him.

“I’m not going to tell you.” He scowled, taking a deep breath. “One part of your presents is fans, okay? I got you some fans.”

“Really?!” His eyebrows shot up, disappearing under his bangs. “I love fans.”

“I know, A-Sang.” He breathed out, kissing his fingers.

“But I love you more.” He smiled, leaning to kiss him lightly on the lips. “I love you so much more than the fans.” He murmured against them, hands on his neck.

“Idiot.” He chuckled, kissing him back while smiling. He always seemed to smile easily when he was near him, breath was easier too. Sincerely, Nie Huaisang just made things easier just by being near him, just his presence and, maybe, it was the reason why he wanted to do everything in his power to make him happy as he could be. “I love you too.”

“More than dogs and A-Ling?” He sat between his legs, back against his chest.

“Don’t push your luck.” He may love A-Sang, but dogs and his nephew were more important, they always brought instant happiness with them. Next to him, Nie Huaisang was chuckling quietly, pulling both of Jiang Cheng’s arms around his waist and putting his hands above before starting to talk with Meng Yao about some new exposition of them and all the technicalities involving it.

Jiang Cheng let himself fall back into the security of all the conversations around him that didn’t involve him and the warmth of Nie Huaisang on his arms and against his chest. Slowly his panic disappeared from his mind as the time passed and the presents weren’t mentioned not even once. Almost everyone was there, the only ones missing being Jin Zixuan, Jiang Yanli and their newborn Jin Ling, Jiang Cheng’s little sweetheart, who were overseas to look over the inauguration of Jiang Yanli’s new restaurant in Las Vegas (To say that Jiang Cheng was crazely proud of her would be an understatement).

Either way, no amount of time would be enough to prepare him for when Wei Wuxian and MianMian appeared in the kitchen bringing the cake and the tray of sweets. The candle was already lit up and displaying the number 23, as if nobody knew how old Nie Huaisang was. He dislocated his hands enough to clap but not remove his arm from around his waist. Nie Huaisang laughed, clapping according to the music, but sunken further on his chest, refusing to move another millimeter as his ears went adorably red.

“Happy birthday, Nie Huaisang!” Everyone screamed when the song ended, blowing confetti over them. The screams and whistles became a cacophony as Nie Huaisang blew out the candle and laughed out loud, putting both of his hands over his mouth.

“Happy birthday, Nie-xiong!” MianMian hugged him after Wen Qing, her girlfriend, took the cake from her. “Many, many years of happiness and fulfillment to you, my dear. Hope you enjoy mine and A-Qing’s present.” She winked, mischievously.

“What have you given me, MianMian?” Nie Huaisang said, eyes wide.

“Nothing you can open in front of Da-ge.” She laughed, absolutely delighted at his terrified face and Jiang Cheng’s groan. He had noticed that everyone had a tendency of calling Nie Mingjue ‘Da-ge’.

“No! You stole my idea!” Wei Wuxian complained, giving him a half-hug and equilibrating the tray of sweets on the other arm. “Many years of love and laughter, Nie-xiong, may time and life treat you well.” He fully hugged him once MianMian came back to take the tray away from him, calming Jiang Cheng’s anxiety.

“I want to see what those two gave you. No excuses.” Nie Mingjue said, serious, before crushing him in a tight hug. “Happy anniversary, didi. I’m very proud of you and what you have become. Ma, Baba and Mother would be so, so proud of you and happy for all the friends and people you have around you.” He may or may not have sniffed on that part, hiding his face on his brother’s neck.

“Thank you, Da-ge. They would be very proud of you too.” Nie Huaisang whispered back and Jiang Cheng saw him blink repeatedly to avoid the tears from falling out.

“He grew up so fast.” He mourned, resting his head on Lan Xichen’s shoulder while Meng Yao hugged and wished him a happy birthday and life. Once he was done and it was Lan Xichen’s turn, Nie Mingjue wrapped himself over him, sniffing loudly. After that, the other guests did a quick succession of ‘Happy Birthday’ and wishes for a good and long life. Not for a moment Nie Huaisang stepped away from Jiang Cheng, always at arm’s reach of his hands. Not that he had tried to pull him back when he stepped away, Jiang Cheng would never do that.

“So, A-Sang, now that all the wishes have been given and Wangji-ge and I have cut the cake. For whom is the first piece?” MianMian asked, holding a plate with a piece of cake to him.

“A-Cheng!” He quickly answered, turning to him. “For being the best boyfriend a man could ask. And not being too scared of Da-ge.”

“I’m not that scared of Mingjue-ge, but thank you, I guess.” Jiang Cheng said, taking the plate from his hands and completely refusing to look over where Nie Mingjue was.

“Woah, he didn’t even hesitate.” Wei Wuxian said, surprised. “I could swear he was going to give it to Da-ge.” That was it, Jiang Cheng was now certain that everyone, except for maybe Wen Qing, saw Nie Mingjue as an older brother. But, well, were they wrong?

“Da-ge has received many first pieces in his life. It’s A-Cheng’s time.” Nie Huaisang scrunched his nose at him before jogging to the kitchen. “C’mon people! Eat, eat! I want to open my presents!”

Jiang Cheng chuckled, starting to eat the cake as the others were doing a line to receive their own piece and, fucking hell, he understood why they wanted one. The cake was divine! It was fluffy and tasty, exploding in the mouth the moment you bite it and it wasn’t too sweet. It was possibly the best cake he ever had the pleasure to eat and by the look of the other’s face, they thought that too.

“Nie-xiong, who made the cake? I want their number.” Wei Wuxian said, pleasure written all over his face. “It’s so good!”

“Oh, it was Wangji and Da-ge.” Nie Huaisang said, pointing at them. Everyone turned their heads to them, looking in awe.

“Lan Zhan?! But he never did one of me.” Wei Wuxian complained, pouting.

“Mingjue-ge made the dough and I did the frosting and the decorations.” Lan Wangji passed a piece of cake to Wen Ning.

“And the sweets. He did the sweets too.” Nie Mingjue said, throwing one of the sweets in his mouth.

“Which are fucking marvellous!” MianMian exclaimed, doing a thumbs up for him.

“No speaking while eating.” He and Lan Xichen said in unison, without looking at her. After that everyone focused on eating the cake and the sweets. Nie Huaisang came back to sit beside Jiang Cheng, taking the sweets he didn’t like to his own plate. Most of them got a second piece and more sweets because those things were really fucking good.

“Now, the presents!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed, excited and sending Jiang Cheng’s heartbeat to space. “I’m excited.” He was jumping on his seat.

“Whose present will you open first?” Lan Xichen said, getting up and going to the kitchen.

“A-Cheng’s.” He smiled as he started to bring the presents from the kitchen. Jiang Cheng prayed that his panic weren’t showing on his face nor his anxiety because his mind was running a mile per hour.

He was going to open the present and see how horrible it was that box of memories and they would break up. Maybe not now because of the fans, but once he started reading the letters and seeing how messed up he was, it would be an endgame. No one, being in their right mind, would stay after reading those letters. Before he could be totally swallowed by his traitorous mind, he heard a scream and someone throwing themselves at him, arms around his neck.

“Thank you!” Nie Huaisang screamed in his ear, pulling him against himself. “Thank you so much!” He sounded happy, but he was crying too.

“What the fuck, Huaisang? Are you crying?” He said, trying to look at his face where it was hidden on his neck. “Why are you-...” He started, before seeing the box sitting on his lap. “Oh.”

“A-Cheng.” He whined, looking up. “Look what you did to me. I’m crying like a baby.” The tears were falling two by two, big fat tears that he did not like to see on his face. “When did you buy it?”

“I made it.” He blurted out, focused on wiping the tears.

“What?” He blinked, sniffing loudly.

“I made it. I made most of the things in the box, including the box. The only things I bought were the fans, I still don’t know how to make fans like you.” He kept wiping the tears, putting his sleeve over his nose for him to blow. “You know I’m not good with handcrafted gifts but since it’s your birthday I tried.”

“I love you so much.” Nie Huaisang hugged him again while Wei Wuxian took the box from his legs and turned it on.

“What memory did you use?” He asked and, oh yeah, Jiang Cheng never told any of them what memory he was planning to use. He instructed MianMian to turn the light off, rearranging it on the small coffee table in the center.

“One from when me and Da-ge were younger.” Nie Huaisang answered as Nie Mingjue’s eyes filled with tears at recognition. “Best present ever.” He whispered, leaning on him with a small smile on his lips and watching as the memory came to life again. Jiang Cheng smiled down at him, passing an arm over his shoulders and watching as he told the story about how Nie Mingjue, who had many comments on how it was being told, almost had a heart attack when he was seventeen.

It was, indeed, the best present ever.

28 notes · View notes

niets-is-onbeduidend · 3 years

Text

Untamed fic recs: Yiling Laozu

One of my favorite tropes in this fandom is Yiling Laozu Wei Wuxian. There are different takes on this trope and I love them all a normal amount.

Favourites are marked with *

the shadow of a name in skin by iliacquer

Wei Wuxian doesn’t let the Wen Remnants hand themselves over after Jin Zixuan’s death. Instead he makes one last sacrifice to ensure they survive. Months later, a Lan cultivator kneels at the edge of the Burial Mounds, ready to offer himself to the feared Yiling Patriarch.

Or: Sacrifice is an old magic, but love is even older.

Words: 9000/ amnesia

*the necromancer's fairytale by iliacquer

The Prince of Gusu is kidnapped for ransom. He’s saved by a nightmare made flesh.

Or: A necromancer, his palace of bones, his long-lost husband, and the rise of their dark kingdom.

Worlds: 17.000/ Excellent read!

*tie a knife with a ribbon by iliacquer

The Yiling Patriarch makes a bargain with the cultivation world. He'll give them the power to defeat Wen Ruohan. No more death. No more war.

All he wants in return is Lan Wangji.

Words: 5600/ can you tell I adore iliacqers writing?

*love, in fire and blood by cicer (WIP 27/30 posted)

"You want Wen Ruohan dead," the Patriarch continued idly. "You want his corpse puppets eliminated. You want his halls burned to the ground and his soldiers disemboweled and begging for mercy. Have I about covered it?"

He gave another knife-edged smile.

"But what will you give me in return?"

"We would be willing to offer quite a bit in return for Wen Ruohan's defeat," Lan Xichen admitted. "But I'm afraid we don't know what an immortal such as yourself desires. Please advise us."

The Patriarch waved at hand at the front of the tent. "I want Second Young Master Lan."

Words: 288.000/ pining and emotion, lots of it

hold me fast, fear me not by cicer

The Yiling Patriarch hummed. "You would like some of my plants?" he asked.

A rhetorical question, of course. Lan Wangji gave him a small nod.

"I would," he said.

"I see!" The Patriarch's thumb brushed against the edge of Lan Wangji's jaw. His fingers curved around the back of Lan Wangji's neck. "But surely you are willing to pay for what you've stolen."

Lan Wangji resisted the urge to moisten his lips, but he allowed himself to swallow. The Patriarch's eyes locked onto his throat.

"What does the Patriarch ask as payment?"

Words: 16.000/ Tam Lin retelling/ Mpreg

rare the man who'll hold to faith by Fahye

There was no blood. No char. There was nothing to see except the strange softening of the Yiling Patriarch's mouth, as if just for a moment he was another person entirely.

"There is the mark of our bargain, and here is the challenge," said the Yiling Patriarch. "You may strike at me, exactly once, with your sword. I will not fight back; I will not resist you at all, Hanguang-jun." That silvery suggestiveness crept into his voice again. "And a year and a day from now, you will come to me and I will deliver exactly the same to you."

Lan Wangji heard his brother's voice raised in sharp and incomprehensible protest. His own heart was beating too loudly for him to hear anything else.

Words: 13.000/ retelling of the Green Knight/ quite distinct

*Getting Jet Lag From Time Travelling by Monyas

Lan Qiren stared in mute horror at the letter in his hands.

The world's most dangerous demonic cultivator and immortal leader of the great Yiling Wei Sect wanted Lan Wangji's hand in marriage. Lan Zhan, his youngest nephew, his most promising disciple, a quiet boy of barely twelve.

Words: 1300/ humour/ time travel

Echo, Murmur, Dream, Here by bluerainmist

Lan Wangji was not delusional. He knew Wei Ying was dead. The sharp stab of hope had spread out and dulled.

But there was something firmer than hope, firmer also than fantasy, which he would not leave behind. Even if Wei Ying was gone and would never come back, nothing would take his place in Lan Wangji’s heart. He thought about that occasionally, when he glimpsed the moon through stark branches on a forest trail, or when he felt drowsy and distant in the seat of honor at banquets.

It was simple. He would always love Wei Ying.

Words: 50.000/ Yiling Wei sect

in the land of gods and monsters & its sequel joy of life by rikke

Lan Wangji was never supposed to die. Thirteen years later, the Yiling Patriarch rules the world with his corpse bodyguard.

Words: 12.000/ dark/ hurt no comfort

Old Foreshadows by protos_metazu_ison

With the threat of the Wen sect looming, the other major sects decide to summon the aid of a man they’d killed centuries ago: the Yiling Patriarch, Wei Wuxian.

Words: 15.000

#the untamed fic recs #wei wuxian #lan wangji #The Untamed #yiling laozu #yiling patriarch #rec list #my post #for sister #wangxian

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jeontaeh · 3 years

Text

ONE¹

SPACE VOYAGE | VKOOK [LARRYVGL]

When 7 boys who barely know each other get stuck in a spaceship hurling through the galaxy for 6 months, things are bound to get messy

✫ ✬ ✭ ✬ ✫

Year 3418

"Oh yeah- oh yeah baby- keep going, aahh-" Jungkook moaned out, banging his fist against the steel wall of the storage closet while his head tipped back, eyes closed.

He felt warm lips around his cock, swirling a tongue around his length. Jungkook's cherry red hair fell into his eyes as he bucked his hips in a little, smirking.

"Yeah? Like that? Such a good girl for me," Jungkook smirked, as the girl sitting on her knees continued sucking him off.

The girl placed her hand on Jungkook's trousers- his stupid tight yet stretchy red pants he had to wear in this place. Jungkook bit his lip as he came into the girl's mouth, and she pulled off with a pop, making a slightly disgusted face.

"Wasn't that bad." Jungkook said, and the girl smiled back. "Sure wasn't, Jungkook." She whispered, and then Jungkook grabbed her waist and kissed her neck, and then reached for the door of the supply closet.

The girl scoffed. "Well? Aren't you going to get me off?" The girl snapped, and Jungkook sighed.

"Maybe next time." Jungkook winked at the orange haired girl, who looked pissed off as Jungkook walked out of the supply closet.

The supply closet was in the corner of the campus. The campus of University of Space Technology and Exploration. Jungkook was in his red clothes, a tight red shirt with a badge of the school's name on it, and tight red pants to match. Many people around, all holding their tablets while walking around with friends.

The university was in one of the Moons of planet Scora VZ2. See, many many years ago- the earth overpopulated and, like, everyone died.

However, scientists found various other galaxies and smaller planets for humans to reside in. Of course, the aliens were one thing (and perhaps we can just skip over the colonisation as it was FRIENDLY) but the food and oxygen and gravitational levels were normal, like in Earth.

This University was known to be one of the best. It brings out the best Galactic Navy in the galaxy. Not to mention, their planet is connected to all the other ones, having higher technology and better advancements than the 3rd world planets.

So, easy to say, Jungkook knew just being in this University meant he'd get an easy job. See, this University has four branches you can study.

MEDICAL. Medical students learn how to aid those during space outings and give medicine to those in need. They wear blue uniforms.

COMMUNICATIONS. Now, the students learning Communications usually know more languages than just the Earth tongue. They can contact other planets and aliens and know how to spot life sources in various planets and how to communicate to them. They wear green uniforms.

ENGINEERING. Engineering students know everything about spaceships. They either built the structure or the mechanics of it. Very vital to be on board a spaceship. They wear yellow uniforms.

And lastly, SPACE EXPLORATION. These guys know the ins and outs of how to explore, navigate, find life sources and interact with them. How to find if a planet is habitable or not. How to find if a planet has resources or not. They wear red uniforms.

So yeah, Jungkook studied Space Exploration. He was only in his first year, but honestly- it's not that hard. All they need to do is NOT die.

Okay, so it's VERY hard and Jungkook has, like, a 63% survival rate when he does his job. But that's not that bad, right???

"Yugyeom!" Jungkook called, seeing his brunette friend in the green uniform talking to some girl. The girl Yugyeom was talking to was giggling, until she saw Jungkook and her cheeks turned red.

"H-hi Jungkook." She said, and Jungkook just gave her a little smirk. Yugyeom turned to Jungkook, and groaned.

"Will you fuck off?" Yugyeom snapped, and Jungkook started laughing. He slung his arm around Yugyeom's shoulder, waving the girl goodbye and walking away with him.

"Anyways- you all ready for the big exam?" Jungkook asked, and Yugyeom sighed.

"Fell asleep during the practice class. Not at all. So much shit could go wrong. Dude- I'm not even completely fluent in Marsian. I'm so failing this." Yugyeom mumbled, and Jungkook snickered.

"Eh. I'll just have to manage the controls and yell 'Aliens! Ah!' and it'll be all fine." Jungkook said, and Yugyeom rolled his eyes.

"Anyways. Saw that chick you were hooking up with walk out looking pissed. Doesn't she have a boyfriend?" Yugyeom asked, and Jungkook snickered.

"Dude- has that ever stopped me before?" Jungkook asked, and Yugyeom sighed again. "Fair enough."

Jungkook laughed at his comment, but then bumped into someone, like head first bumped into someone.

Jungkook fell back a little and then looked up and saw a guy with silver hair and dark grey eyes who he bumped into. He was also in a red uniform.

"Watch it!" Jungkook snapped, and the guy just gave Jungkook an annoyed look and kept walking, some guy beside him.

"You watch it, red." The guy snapped back, and Jungkook rolled his eyes and kept walking with Yugyeom.

✭

"Watch it!" Some dude with bright pink-red hair in a red uniform snapped, and Taehyung just gave him an annoyed look.

"You watch it, red." Taehyung snapped back, seeing as the boy rolled his eyes and continued walking. The boy beside Taehyung huffed.

"Nice comeback."

"Shut up, Bambam." Taehyung mumbled.

"Relax. You're in space exploration. You have the easiest job. It's just a fake test." Bambam said, and Taehyung scoffed.

"Relax? You want me to relax?! They'll put us in a fake spaceship with six other strangers I don't know and we'll have to figure that shit out! I've been pulling all nighters for two weeks studying over this." Taehyung said, and Bambam raised an eyebrow.

"No you haven't."

"Okay, I haven't. But still! I stayed up till like, 11. And you know if I do shit my dad will kill me." Taehyung said, and Bambam just rolled his eyes.

"You're gonna ace this, Tae. Now come on- let's go get some food." Bambam said, and Taehyung nodded- and then accidentally bumped into someone.

"Ah shit- sorry," Taehyung said, and saw a boy with pink hair and glittery eyes dressed in green, who just nodded and walked away, his eyes looking a bit teary.

✭

"Ah shit- sorry," A boy with silver hair said, and Jimin just sniffled like a loser and nodded and rushed away instantly.

Don't cry Don't cry Don't cry- Jimin chanted in his mind, biting down on his lip as he walked in a fast pace, walking towards an orange haired girl who was standing nearby a water fountain.

"H-hi Lisa." Jimin squeaked, and the orange haired girl turned around, and Jimin instantly noticed how her hair was a bit disheveled and her lips were plump and redder than usual.

"Oh. Hey Jimin." Lisa said, almost looking a little.. annoyed? Jimin was confused, but he just gave her a smile, and took her hand in his.

"Hey.. listen- I know I've been so busy this last week stressing over this stupid exam. I didn't, I-"

"You didn't mean to tell me you rather study than spend time with me?" Lisa snapped, and Jimin gulped.

"I-"

"Just- ugh, fuck off Jimin." Lisa mumbled, and Jimin frowned to himself- but then just grabbed Lisa's arm again.

"Hey, I'm-I'm your boyfriend. Just talk to me-"

"Shut up, Park!" Lisa snapped, and Jimin stilled. "And stop touching me, it's fucking annoying. Why don't you just go study, since that's all you do?" Lisa grumbled, pulling her hand back.

Jimin felt like crying, and ohmygod he felt like such a pussy. "I-I-"

"I said Go. Away." Lisa growled- and Jimin nodded- feeling ever more angry with himself at how he flinched when she raised her voice.

"Yes girl! You show him! Girl powerrr," One of Lisa's friends giggled, and Jimin just turned around and walked away quickly- tears gathering in his eyes again.

She's just standing up for herself, Jimin. It's nothing. Respect her, Jimin told himself, feeling his eyes watery as he walked past some black haired guy, accidentally bumping shoulders with him- but not bothering to reply.

✭

"So then I said- you're not my mom! Turns out, it was a guy from the planet Fuurus dressed like my mom! I swear those goddamn aliens-" Jin started, and then felt a shoulder bump against his.

He turned and saw a pink haired boy walking away really fast, and just hummed and turned back towards his friends. His friends all laughed- and Jin just grinned.

"God Jin- you're so fucking funny." One girl said, and some other guys nodded in agreement. Jin nodded. "I know. Anyways, bye- I need to go study." Jin said quickly, and then rushed away.

"You're seriously going to study? Mr. Popular Kid is actually going to study?" A voice asked, and Jin turned towards Mark and rolled his eyes.

"Not all of us are geniuses, Mark. Learning medicine is hard, okay?" Jin said, and Mark scoffed. "You called yourself a genius every day!"

"That's true. Anyways- did you hear that weird nerdy guy's trying to be Captain? I overheard him talking to some dweeb outside the academy. No one this young can be captain." Jin snickered, and Mark laughed.

Namjoon, walking past Jin- and also overhearing everything he said- just sighed, ducking his head and walked faster. He knows he's young and he knows he's not 'mature enough' to be captain- but he knows he can be! So what if he's young! So what if he's... technically studying Engineering and isn't supposed to 'technically' run for Captain for another two years. He'll show 'em.

Anyways, for now- he needs to go study for that goddamn exam.

"What exam is everyone talking about, exactly?" Yoongi asked his friend, who scoffed.

"Dude, seriously? You need to stop drinking that weird alien alcohol stuff." Jaebum said, and Yoongi- having a flask tightened in his hand- just hummed and tipped the flask back between his lips, alcohol smoothening down his throat.

"Eh, whatever. You don't wanna see me sober, Jaebum." Yoongi said, and Jaebum sighed- because truly, he doesn't.

"Well, it's the exam everyone has to take. You get put in a group with six other students chosen at random, and you're put into a made up spaceship for an hour or two. They give us simulated problems and shit we need to face- and it'll show how 'worthy' we are of being in the Galactic Navy or whatever." Jaebum said, and Yoongi sighed, smoothening his green fabric down with his hand.

"Awesome. I get to scream in alien language for an hour. Honestly fuck this. Let's go get high." Yoongi said, and Jaebum laughed.

"Before the exam? Yeah, no. Not happening."

"Oh come on! We always got high before exams- how is this any different?" Yoongi said, and Jaebum pursed his lips.

"It's the official exam that shows our worth as something we've been studying for a year or four, Yoongi. For once, just be sober and do this properly." Jaebum said, and Yoongi just rolled his eyes, walking back from him.

"You do you, JB. I'm gonna go snort a line of co-"

Yoongi bumped into someone- and then turned around, a little annoyed. He saw a boy with orange hair, dressed in his yellow uniform- eyes big.

"Woah there. Watch where you're going." The guy chuckled, a warmth in his voice as he gripped Yoongi's side to save him from falling.

Yoongi gulped and nodded dumbly- seeing the boy just grin at him and then walk away- disappearing into the group of people.

"You okay?" Jaebum asked, and Yoongi cleared his throat.

"Yeah. Yeah! Just- um. Blanked out for a second there." Yoongi mumbled, and then turned around and took another swig of his flask.

Hoseok grinned at the black haired pale boy with eyes a little doey, and then turned around and kept walking- assuming he's never going to see him again.

"Dude- the list is out!" Jackson said- grabbing Hoseok's arm. "What list?"

"The list of people who we're working with for the exam tomorrow. The timings of when we have to go and everything. They sent it to us on our tablets. Just check." Jackson said- and Hoseok nodded.

He took out the little tablet, clicking on it and opening up the notifications to see the EXAM SCHEDULE. He saw all the lists, all with seven people in it. He scrolled down and down all the lists of names and groups and frowned.

"What the fuck?" Hoseok mumbled to himself- and then kept scrolling, until he reached the ast list.

GROUP : 103

TIMING: 7 pm - 8:30 pm

NAMES:

Kim Namjoon

Kim Seokjin

Min Yoongi

Jung Hoseok

Park Jimin

Kim Taehyung

Jeon Jungkook

Hoseok groaned, looking at Jackson. "Are you kidding me? I'm in the last group!"

Yoongi scoffed, sitting with his back to a wall as he saw the tablet. "I'm in the 103rd group to go! The groups in the end always do shit." Yoongi mumbled.

Jin let out a yell, throwing his tablet onto his bed. "Man! I'll miss dinner because of this goddamn exam." Jin said, and Mark laughed, sitting on his bed in their dorm.

Jimin was crouched on his bed, and then sighed when he looked at the tablet. "..I don't know any of them." Jimin mumbled to himself.

Taehyung laughed sarcastically, throwing his tablet at Bambam. "This couldn't be any fucking better! I'm the last group to go! At night! With a bunch of guys I've never met! Fucking great." Taehyung groaned, and then kicked the wall.

Jungkook looked at his tablet, and then turned it off and placed it back on the table. "Eh- it's not like I give a shit anyway." Jungkook snickered to Yugyeom, who just rolled his eyes.

Namjoon huffed, placing the tablet onto his table in the library, placing his head in his hands. "I'm in a group with a bunch of idiots."

Little did they know all the shit that this stupid exam would bring. These bunch of idiots were fucked.

✫ ✬ ✭ ✬ ✫

https://jeontaeh.tumblr.com/post/647225793724989440/two%C2%B2

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jeonggukookies · 4 years

Text

too young || four

summary: you have a chaotic and very interesting dinner when you meet the boys

word count: 3,830

genre: parent!au, single dad!jungkook fluff/slow burn

one || two || three || four

“Do you really think that’s a good idea, Jungkook?” You two were at the grocery store, buying groceries for tonight’s dinner with his friends and their kids at his house. “I don’t have to meet them today.”

“I want you to,” he said, slowly pushing the cart in the direction you were walking in. “What’s first on the list?”

“Radish.” Looking up from the shopping list, you stopped and stared at Jungkook. He stopped rolling the cart and stood next to you. “Do you think your friends will like me?”

“Don’t ask me no dumb question,” he teased, kissing your cheek. “Trust me, they’re going to adore you once they see you.”

“I hope so.”

Ever since the your first date with Jungkook, he remembered to pick up Jules from school everyday. He would come in the school and go to your office to talk to you for a couple minutes. Once Jules came to your office, he would then take her home.

There were some days where he ran late, but he would always let you know ahead of time and allowed you to take Jules home on those days. Now with his new position and more time on his hands, he was starting to become the parent he wanted to be: the kind of parent that loves his child unconditionally and takes responsibility for them.

Not only was he a great parent, but he was a great boyfriend as well.

You and Jungkook had been dating for three months.

Although you two had the same 8 to 4 work schedule, the two of you were busy most nights. You spent your nights at meetings, children’s concerts and met with other parents. You were also working your way to another degree online.

Jungkook spent his nights, working on other songs at home, entertaining Jules and driving back and forth to take Jules to little league soccer practice.

Despite being busy and having hectic schedules, you two managed to make time for each other. The both of you spent time together on Wednesdays and Sundays.

On Wednesday nights, Jin, who wanted Jungkook to have some normality in his life, picked up Jules from school and had her sleep over at his house with his family. He understood that Jungkook was still new to everything and knew he was having a hard time as a single parent, so he insisted doing this for Jungkook to have some alone time. He also said it was the perfect way for him to spend more time with Jules. This way, Jules would know in her heart that she meant everything in her family and that Jungkook isn’t her only family.

After your weekly school board meetings on Wednesdays, you went over to Jungkook’s house and worked on your online college classes on the dinning table as Jungkook sat across from you, playing games on his computer. After you were done, the two of you watched movies, videos, and tv shows in the family room, talking about everything, anything and nothing. Wednesdays easily became your favorite day of the week, and Jungkook felt the same.

Sundays were also one of your favorite days too. It was the only day of the week Jungkook didn’t have to work, which was perfect for you and Jules. In the afternoon, you and Jungkook would go to Jules’s indoor soccer games, cheer and support for her and then the three of you would go to a restaurant for dinner.

Ever since you got your job position as principal, you suddenly didn’t feel alone anymore. You knew you had someone special in your life, and you felt so happy.

Although your relationship with Jungkook was going well, you started panicking after New Years.

“You know how I cancelled on the guys on New Years?” Jungkook had his arm wrapped around you as the two of you were in his bed, sitting up against the bed headboard. You were reading a book, and Jungkook was next to you playing with the tips of your hair, enjoying your presence. “Well, the boys freaked out on me, like, way more than expected.”

You looked up from your book and tilted your head in confusion. “Why? Did something happen?”

“It’s just very unusual for any of us to miss a family event,” he explained. “We’re just always together, and it isn’t the same when someone is missing.”

“I told you that you should have gone.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to spend time with you.”

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed at his comment. “How romantic.”

“I invited all of them to dinner next week on Sunday. Jules doesn’t have a game, and all of them don’t have plans either.” He paused. “I want you to be there, so you can meet all of them, and they can meet you.”

“What?” You didn’t have a problem with meeting them, but with how Jungkook described them, you didn’t think meeting them during dinner would be the best time or place. You would be too nervous. “Kook!”

“I know I’m sorry! But I promise you that you have nothing to worry about. They’ll might make you uncomfortable for five seconds, but after that, it’s all good. They’re good people, and you are a great person. It all works out.”

Now, after a week, you were finally going to meet his friends, and you were still nervous. You didn’t want them to tell you that you weren’t good enough for him or that Jungkook deserved better.

“Let’s go over everything for tonight again.” Jungkook groaned at your request. “Please.”

“Fine,” he said, putting the bag of radishes into the cart. “Jin.”

“Two daughters and one son. Danielle is the oldest and Katelyn is the same age as Jules. And his son, Jun-Ho was born a eight months ago.”

“Namjoon.” You started walking to the other produce shelves, grabbing a bundle broccoli, white onions, green bell peppers and zucchini. As you got all the vegetables, Jungkook then opened the plastic bag for you to put them in.

“He doesn’t have kids yet, but he’s expecting twins, two girls, next two months in March.”

“Wow look at you,” Jungkook praised. “Yoongi?”

“Two sons named Hyun-Joo and Jiwoo. Hyun-Joo is twelve while Jiwoo is the same age as Jules too.”

He nodded as the both of you grabbed a some romaine lettuce. “Hoseok.”

“One girl and one boy: Hanna and Hye. Hanna is two years younger than Danielle, and Hye is two years older than Jules.”

“Taehyung?” Jungkook then grabbed iceberg lettuce.

“He has Roman who was born the same day as Jiwoo.”

“Jimin?” Now, you and Jungkook were walking in the direction of the meat counter.

“Two little girls. Lia is the same age as Jules, and he had Mi-suk five months ago.”

“You got all twelve of them.”

You stopped in your tracks to look at Jungkook. “Wait does that mean all of them are coming tonight?”

“The oldest kids aren’t coming. Danielle and Hanna are getting ready for university to start again, and Hyun-Joo and Roman a piano competition.”

“So it’s just Lia, Hye, Jiwoo and Katelyn?”

“Don’t forget the two babies, Jun-Ho and Mi-suk.”

“Do we need more food then?”

He shook his head. “We’ll be fine. What’s next?”

_____

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help with dinner?” Jungkook asked once again for what seemed like the thousandth time. He kept insisting that he could help you with dinner, but his actions said otherwise as he watched the news on the tv. “I can totally help! As you know, I am a natural cook.”

“Actually, I wouldn’t know because we’ve only had take out,” you teased as you turned on the kitchen facet to soak the rice.

Pretending to be hurt, he gasped and put his hand on his heart. “I can’t believe you’re forgetting those nights where I made ramen.”

You shook your head and laughed. “It’s all under control. Thank you.”

When you heard the doorbell rang, you and Jungkook give each other a weird look. No one was supposed to come through the front door. He had specifically asked all the guys to text them when they had arrived and he would come through the back door, then leading them to the dinning room.

For some reason, he wanted to surprise them and didn’t want them to see you. He also thought it would be better to meet them all at once rather than one at a time.

Jungkook pressed a button on his remote, switching the channel. Now, on the screen was different areas of his house.

“You had security cameras? Since when?” You asked, turning off the facet. “Isn’t this a safe neighborhood?”

He shrugged. “It came with the house.”

At the front door, there was a man with dark brown hair and was wearing a light blue button up with white pants. He was just as tall as Jungkook. The man was rocking a child in his arms. The child looked about the same age as Jules and looked exactly like the man. Then, the child started waving at the camera, and the man smiled; you noticed that he had a smile in a shape of a little heart.

“Jules, come down!” Jungkook yelled out as he switched the channel back to the news. He got up off the couch and walked towards the front door. “Your uncle Hobi and Hye are here!”

“Did you not get my text?” Jungkook asked as soon as he opened the door.

Ignoring Jungkook’s question, Hoseok walked in and crouched down to put Hye down. As Hoseok unzipped the child’s jacket, you heard Jules’s heavy footsteps coming down the stairs.

“Uncle Hobi, you’re here!” Jules screamed and ran towards her uncle who greeted her with the same excitement. Still crouched down, he wrapped his arms around her and pecked her cheek a couple times, making Jules giggle. “Stop, it tickles!”

Jungkook gave Hye a tight hug and helped him take his jacket off. He booped Hye’s tiny nose. “Hey, buddy.”

“Why did you ask that by the way?” Hoseok asked, letting go of Jules. “That is such a weird request.”

“Who is that?” Hye pointed at you. “Who is in the kitchen?”

Not understanding what Hye was talking about, Hoseok stared at the direction he was pointing at. His brown eyes widened once he saw you, and his jaw dropped. He blinked a couple times before he started taking out his contacts just to put them back in. “I think I’m going crazy.”

“Let’s go play tag!” Jules took Hye’s hand and dragged him towards her bedroom upstairs. “Come on!”

With his mouth still open, Hoseok went towards you in the kitchen, and Jungkook laughed. “Hyung, you’re okay.”

“You must be Hoseok.” You put your hand out. “Jungkook has told me a lot about you. I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

Once he shook your hand, he gasped at the contact. “You are real.”

Taken back from his comment, you let go of his hand. “Excuse me?”

"This is why I thought it would be better if you met them together rather than alone,” Jungkook explained. “Let’s go wait for everyone in the dinning room, Hobi.”

"The boys are going to freak when they see her,” Hoseok said as Jungkook and him walked towards the dinning room. His giggle echoed throughout the whole house. “My bet is on Jimin.”

______

The dinner for tonight was simple.

Everyone would choose a piece of meat and cook it along with vegetables on the griddle. The only reason why it was taking so long was because you were cutting all the meats and vegetables neatly.

Once you were done with cutting everything, you put it all onto two trays and started cooking the rice and ramen. You didn’t have to do anything; you just had to wait.

You went to the bathroom, and once you came back, you saw the back of Jungkook. Going up to him, you hugged Jungkook from behind and stood on your toes to rest your chin on his shoulder. “I thought you weren’t going to help.”

“I feel very uncomfortable right now,” the man you were hugging said.

It took a second, but you realized you had heard this voice before. You then realized the man in front of you was taller with broader shoulders.

Realizing that you were not hugging Jungkook, you pulled away, screaming and Jin started screaming too. He turned to fae you, and the both of you just stared at each other screaming.

In an instant, Hoseok came into the kitchen. “You guys! What is going on here?”

“I was going to make eggs for the ramen, but I didn’t know Y/N was here,” Jin said.

“Wait, you two know each other?” Hoseok asked with a confused look on his face.

“Hyung! I thought you said you were going to check up on the kids!” Jungkook said as he came into the kitchen. Seeing the horrified look on your face, he went to you and pulled you into a hug. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“Wait what?” Jin asked, pointing at the both of you. “Are you two...you know?”

“Yes, and I was going to announce it as soon as all the boys came,” Jungkook explained. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“Wait how do you know Jungkook’s girlfriend?” Hoseok asked again.

“She’s Jules’s principal,” Jin answered. “The one and Jimin I met when Jungkook had to step down.”

“Ahh, Jungkook-ah, you nasty little-” Hoseok started, causing your cheeks to redden.

“Hobi!” Jungkook cut his sentence off. “It’s not like that!”

Before anyone could say anything, the frying pan with the eggs on the stove was now on the fire. It wasn’t a big fire that could have burned the hose down, but it surprised everyone.

As Jungkook remained calm, you, Hoseok and Jin were screaming all at once again. Jin ran to the pantry, trying to find something while Jungkook let go of you and opened the bottom stove drawer to get a glass lid. Your youngest one then covered the pan with the lid and turned off the burner. The fire and flames died down.

“It’s okay!” Jungkook reassured everyone, but everyone kept screaming and didn’t hear what he had said.

Jin, not seeing the fire was already gone, came back with the fire extinguisher and started spraying the stove. He stopped screaming and spraying once he realized that he just spraying Jungkook’s shirt. “Are you okay?”

Hoseok couldn’t help but to laugh at what had just happened.

Jungkook took a deep breath. “I’m going to get dressed again. Y/N and I will come back and bring the food out once everyone is here.”

___

All the energy for tonight was officially gone, and the dinner hadn’t started yet. There was no way you could get through the actual eating part. You tried to take a small power nap on Jungkook’s bed as he showered, but you were still awake.

“How are you doing?” You turned your head to the master bathroom. The bathroom glass door was open, and you could barely see Jungkook adjusting his hair in the mirror. He was now wearing over sized plain black t-shirt and ripped blue jeans. “Tired?”

“Are you okay?” You asked. “You aren’t hurt or anything, right?”

“I’m okay. Jin practically used a water gun on me. It wasn’t the kind where it was acid and foamy.” He turned off the bathroom light, left the bathroom and propped on his elbow as he practically laid next to you on the bed. Raising his eyebrows, he asked, “Are you okay? Still nervous?”

Like a baby, you put your arms out and had a pouty look on your face. Jungkook laughed and wrapped his arms around you, burying his face in your neck. “I’m feeling much better now.”

You bit your lower lip to hold back a moan as Jungkook started planting gentle kisses on the side of your neck. He smiled and chuckled when you tilted your head to give him better access. “Does this make it better?”

“Mmm.” Your fingers were now tangled into his wet hair.

“Jungkook, Jimin is finally here! We’re ready.” You heard Jin shout from downstairs.

Your boyfriend pulled away and looked you in the eye. “Are you ready?”

You shook your head. “I don’t want to see Jin.”

He scrunched his nose in confusion. “Why?”

“Well, I thought he was you in the kitchen, so I hugged him. I don’t think I can show my face to him without feeling embarrassment for the rest of my life.” Jungkook burst into laughter, burying himself into your neck again. “It’s not funny!”

“Come on. Let’s go down.”

_____

As you and Jungkook were carrying the trays of meat and vegetables, you heard another familiar voice shout. “No way! You’re joking! Is this really true?!”

“Jimin, keep your voice down!” The oldest scolded. “Your five month old child is literally taking a nap in your lap right now. You’re going to wake her up. And yes, it is true, so let’s not scare her away for Jungkook’s sake. She’s already handled enough for today.”

“This is golden!” Jimin said, still shouting. “Is she pretty?”

“Breathtaking,” Hoseok responded without no hesitation. “It’s like she’s not even real. I even checked.”

You and Jungkook walked in the room, seeing everyone confused with what Hoseok meant. The room became silent as all eyes were on you, watching every move you make.

Jungkook put the first tray down and then took the tray out of your hands. “Hey guys.”

Right in front of you, there were two empty seats: Jungkook sat down first right next to Hosoek while you took the empty seat at the edge, beside Jungkook.

“Wait, aren’t you the principal from Jules’s school?” Jimin asked, raising his eyebrows. “Or am I thinking of someone different?”

“That’s me,” you responded. “I’m Y/N. I’m sure you heard from Jin and Hoseok that I’m dating Jungkook.”

“This is Yoongi.” Jungkook pointed at the tiniest person in the room. He was wearing a plaid shirt and a grey beanie, but you could see his black hair poke out of it.

“Hello.” Yoongi waved at you.

“This is Namjoon.” Junkgook pointed to the person right next to Jimin. He was wearing a short sleeve red button up and had his hair pushed back in a headband.

“Hi there.” Namjoon grinned; he had an angelic smile.

“And last but not least, Taehyung.” Jungkook pointed at the person next to Jin who had short wavy brown hair and was wearing a green long-sleeve shirt. Compared to the rest of the friends, his clothes seemed more comfortable and casual. You liked his style.

“Nice to meet you,” Taehyung said. “Jungkook didn’t pay you to be here, right?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Tae,” Yoongi said. “Of course she did.”

“Yeah, who would want to be here willingly? Especially with him?” Hoseok winked at you.

“I don’t think so, guys.” Jimin put his finger on his chin, making a concerntrated thinking face. “You really think Jungkook would pay someone to be here when he won’t even buy Jules light up shoes?”

“I can’t believe you guys are insulting me in my house.” Jungkook shook his head, but chuckled at his older friends. “Let’s get the kids and start eating. Shall we?”

_____

After everyone ate, the kids returned back upstairs, playing games while all the adults stayed in the dinning room. Everyone formally introduced themselves, told you what they did for a living and their kids. They all talked with passion and happiness in their voices. Anyone could tell they were content with their jobs and loved their family.

“What about you, Y/N? How are you liking the job and town?” Namjoon asked.

“It’s good.” You nodded. “All good.”

“Just good?” They all asked.

“Don’t be shy,” Jungkook encouraged. “It’s okay. They won’t judge.”

“I mean, I like my salary. I can’t complain about that at all.” Everyone laughed at your comment. “I really love seeing the kids and hope to help them with their learning. It’s really crucial for them to be able to like school at this age.”

“Do you want to be a elementary principal for the rest of your life?” Jimin asked. “Or do you think you’ll go back to being a teacher?”

“Y/N is actually working her way to another degree and is aiming to be a superintendent.”

“Wow!” Everyone was all impressed and were clapping. You couldn’t tell if they were just overhyped from the soju or they generally liked you.

“And the town?” You’re not from here, right?” Jin asked.

You shook your head and nervously tucked a strand of your behind your ear. “It’s a small town, but I like the sense of community here. Everyone knows everyone. I just wish I was able to make friends and talk to people.”

“You have no friends or family here?” Yoongi asked.

“They’re all back home,” you replied. “I really just have Jungkook, and I am thankful for that.”

“Why don’t you meet the girls?” Jimin suggested, rocking the baby in his arms.

“The girls?” Did he mean everyone’s wives? You barely could get through this dinner; you didn’t know if you could do another dinner with the girls too.

“I don’t think she’s ready for that yet,” Jungkook said.

“I don’t even think that’s a good idea either,” Jin concurred.

“That’s because it’s not a good idea to meet them,” Hoseok agreed.

“Why?” No one verbally answered your question. Instead, they all turned their head and looked at Taehyung, who was lost in his own world, making some origami with the napkins on the table.

He noticed the silence and looked up to find everyone staring at him. “Hm?”

“You don’t have the most friendliest wife, Hyung,” Jungkook said. He then looked at you to give some explanation. “It takes her a while to warm up to people. I was one of Taehyung’s best friend, and it took her a whole year after the wedding for her to finally warm up to me.”

“The girls are very talkative and not shy. They basically have no filter with each other,” Yoongi added. “And from what I see now, that’s very different from you.”

“They might be protective over Jungkook too and question you like a murderer,” Hoseok said so casually. “It’s out of pure love for him though. They want Jungkook’s first girlfriend not to break his heart.”

“First girlfriend?” Smiling, you turned your head to Jungkook. His cheeks were now a crimson color. “Didn’t you have other ones before?”

“Jungkook has had other girlfriends before,” Taehyung explained. “You’re just the first and only one we’ve met.”

“Wow that just definitely makes her feel special,” Jimin said.

Ignoring Jimin, you asked, “Why am I the first to meet everyone?”

Jungkook grinned. “I’ve never liked anyone as much as I liked you.”

#bangtanwriters-net #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook scenarios #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #too young

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kerikaaria · 4 years

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If I Never Met You: Chapter 26

(??? X Reader) Idol!AU, Manager!Reader

Genre: (PG13) Angst, hurt/comfort, and topped with some fluff

WC: 6.1k

Warnings: Detailed descriptions of a strong panic attack

Series Masterlist

Chapter 25 | Chapter 26 | Chapter 27

A/N - If you are having a difficult time, it can be really easy to want to deal with it on your own. But having a support system is so crucial in helping you feel better and getting through the toughest of times. Don't be afraid to reach out to someone if you need it!

Over the holiday season, Bang practically forced me to go home to see my family. It was nearing a year and a half since the last time I saw them and honestly, I was feeling homesick even if I never mentioned it to anyone. Bang PD told me I was not going to have any work to do starting from December 20th until just after the new year, so unless I wanted to sit at home bored I should take the time to see my family. He even handed me plane tickets he had already bought just to drive the point home.

There was basically no way I could say no at that point, so I did what he suggested and went home. Of course I was in contact with my family frequently since I had moved to South Korea and when I explained how busy my job was they understood why it was hard to get time to be able to go back to visit. But talking over the phone or texts was very different from getting to see them in person.

My family was thrilled to see me, and my sister was surprisingly talkative when she asked me a million questions about the boys and what it was like living and working in South Korea. And of course, I had just as many answers and stories to give her.

I got to see my best friend Ari while I was on vacation, and she was more than happy to hear about my new family. She never really listened to K-pop before but I tried my hardest to get her to become a fan of my boys. She wasn’t entirely convinced, but I knew I’d get her one day. I also tried contacting another friend of mine, Jordan. He had been one of my closest friends since we were five years old. But he didn’t respond to me at all, so I guessed he was busy and I could see him next time.

By the time the last few days of my vacation came around, I felt rather strange. I was happy to be home and it had made my homesickness feel better at first, but the longer I was home the more I realized I was feeling homesick again but for Korea and the boys instead. Probably because that’s where I had been for so long, and I spent almost literally every day with them so it was so weird to be away.

But of course our group chat was more active than ever while I was at home. I got messages every day from at least one or two of them about how much they missed me and about what they were up to. And they sent a lot of pictures. Particularly the ’95 line was sending me lots of candid and goofy pictures that they captured both of themselves and the rest of the members. They definitely kept a smile on my face, especially when the others would respond, complaining about the pictures they shared.

Soon enough, it was time for me to go back to my second home. I was still sad to leave my family again, but I was even more excited to get back to my boys and to being busy – which I had become way too accustomed to.

I arrived back in South Korea on January 2, and Sejin even had time to pick me up from the airport himself. We casually chatted about my vacation while he drove me back home and he walked me up to my apartment.

I opened the door to my home, expecting to just lay down and relax for a little while. But when I turned on the light, I was immediately met with seven boys and a whole feast laid out on my table.

“Welcome home!” they all said before taking turns hugging me and telling me how much they missed me.

I was happily surprised, but the significant jet lag didn’t let me show it and made me just look tired. “Hey guys,” I greeted with a tired smile. “This is a nice surprise.”

“We missed you!” Jungkook said, refusing to let me go after being the last one to give me a hug.

I chuckled and gave him a kiss on top of his head. “I missed you guys too. But I can’t believe you guys prepared this for me. It’s not like anything special happened, I was just visiting my family.”

“But you were gone for two whole weeks!” Tae pouted.

“I was starting to feel withdrawal,” Jin said. “I need my honey to be complete.” He blew me a kiss.

Jimin pretended to catch the kiss midair and throw it away.

“Yah!” Jin yelled as Jimin hurried next to me and gave me a peck on my cheek to tease Jin.

“I got to her first,” he sing-songed before running away and Jin started chasing after him.

Meanwhile, Jungkook was still clinging onto me as if I was his lifeline. I looked over to Sejin, silently asking for assistance. He just smiled and shrugged. “They missed you, what can I say?”

“Did I really miss this?” I questioned myself. “Maybe I should just go back home.”

“No!” Hobi yelled, coming behind me to hold me from behind while Jungkook tightened his grip from the front.

“It’s official,” I said. “I’m a prisoner.”

“Yeah, I warned you a year ago that you’re stuck with them whether you wanted to be or not,” Sejin oppa said, chuckling.

“Come on noona,” Joon said. “You know you love us.”

I hummed, pretending to think about it. “I don’t know, maybe you guys just brainwashed me into thinking I do.”

“I have done no brainwashing,” Yoongi said. “If you love us then you’re just crazy.”

“Well I mean, me being crazy is definitely accurate,” I said.

Even though I was tired from the jet lag, I couldn’t let the hard work they put in for this surprise go to waste so I humored them in eating and chatting for a little while. Until they couldn’t help but notice just how exhausted I was and they reluctantly left my apartment to let me get some rest.

As I saw them out of the house and they took turns saying goodbye, Jimin paused for a moment. “In all seriousness though,” he said, “we are super happy that you’re back. And not just that, but hyung is all healed now and is going to be able to do the showcases with us. I kind of felt like our family was a little broken last month without the two of you. But now everything’s back to normal.” He smiled sweetly.

“Aw, Chim,” I said, returning the smile. “It was never broken. But of course, I’m glad things are going back to normal too.” I gave him a strong hug before saying goodbye one more time and he left to join his brothers across the hallway.

There were just a couple of days after I returned before we would go back to Japan for the boys to have two showcases, one in Tokyo and the other in Osaka. The boys (including Yoongi) were practicing and preparing for those performances, while I went back to doing the usual routines at the company with Sejin to make sure that upcoming events were all in order and their comeback for next month was on track.

I easily became re-immersed into my work, but there was a thought that kept lingering in the back of my mind – one that had started before I even returned to Korea.

I was sitting in the dance studio, waiting for the boys to finish their practice for the day so we could all walk home together. Having watched the same routine over several times and being a little tired, my mind started drifting on its own. That tiny inkling of a thought that was hiding in the back of my mind started surfacing more and more the longer I sat there.

I looked again at the message on my phone. “Hey! Long time no talk! I am in town so I wanted to know if you were able to hang out so we can catch up. I miss you!” It was the one I sent to Jordan and hadn’t received a reply on. I knew he was difficult to get ahold of, his family had even told me that they have a hard time reaching him most of the time. But it still bothered me that I received absolutely no reply.

“Noona?” Hobi startled me out of my thoughts when he waved his hand in front of my face. “Everything alright in there?”

“Oh, yeah. Everything’s fine,” I responded. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“Jordan?” I jumped when I heard Joonie’s voice literally right next to my ear. “Is that a friend from home?”

“Yeah, he is,” I said simply, turning my phone in my hands a couple of times before locking it.

“You’ve never mentioned him I don’t think,” Jin said. “Are you guys close?”

“I’ve mentioned him, just not by name,” I said. “He’s the one who I’ve known since I was five.”

“Ooohhh, that friend!” Hobi said. “You’re always smiling when you talk about him. Did you get to meet up with him?”

I looked down at the black screen of my phone and shook my head. “No, he never responded to me when I texted him.”

“Maybe you should call him, see if you can catch up?” Yoongi suggested. “You look like you miss him.”

“I do,” I admitted easily. “I feel like it’s been ages since we’ve talked but he is easily one of my closest friends.”

“Why don’t you call him now?” Tae said. “It’s a reasonable time there, isn’t it? And it’d be nice for us to talk to him a bit if you guys are really that close.”

I thought about it for a minute before deciding it may be a good idea. “Yeah, maybe I should. He does prefer phone calls over text messages anyway so that might help.”

Everyone seemed to agree they’d hang out to say hi and gathered around me while I hovered my finger over the call button on my phone. “Alright, I’ll introduce you guys before you start talking okay? And please only talk one at a time.” I gave them each a jokingly serious look before and got nods of agreement in return. I finally pressed the green circle and waited for him to answer, placing the phone on speaker. It seemed like it was about to go to voicemail, but he answered at the last minute.

“Hello?” I heard Jordan’s voice for the first time in what felt like forever through the phone.

“Hey, Jordan!” I said, excited to talk to him. “How are you?”

He was silent for a moment. “I’m sorry, but who is this?”

I pinched my eyebrows together in confusion, feeling uneasy. I knew for a fact that I messaged everyone my new number when I had gotten a new phone. “This is (Y/n).”

“Oh!” he said. “Sorry, I didn’t recognize your number. How are you?”

“I’m doing well,” I replied. “I thought I let you know I changed my number. Well, I messaged you last week asking if you wanted to hang out but you didn’t respond.”

“Yeah sorry,” he said. “I didn’t reply since I didn’t recognize the number.”

“Ah, okay. I guess that makes sense.” I noticed that Namjoon was quietly telling the others what we were saying so they weren’t lost. “Well I just figured I’d see if you were able to chat so we could catch up. A lot has happened since the last time we talked.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice,” Jordan said, but he sounded distracted. I was about to reply, but before I could he continued. “But I’m actually kind of busy right now. Can I call you later?”

My heart sank. I’d heard that before. Many, many times before. “O-okay, yeah sure,” I replied. “Talk to you later then.”

“Mmkay. Bye!” Jordan said before hanging up.

“Bye…” I murmured even though the call was done.

A number of memories started zipping by through my mind, slowly connecting dots together. Something I felt like I had known all along, but had refused to believe up until this point. He wasn’t going to call me back. He was never going to call me back. There was no more denying it. I vaguely registered the boys trying to get my attention, but I was too lost in my thoughts to reply.

I suddenly stood up, grabbing my bag and coat before walking out of the room and not saying a single word. I knew what was about to happen and I wasn’t about to let it happen in front of the members of BTS. Not in front of my friends. I didn’t want them to see this side of me.

All the regular staff were gone for the day since it was getting late, so I freely jogged down the halls, letting my feet guide me to wherever they may. My heartbeat was speeding up and breathing becoming ragged, more from the speed of my mind rather than that of my body. I ended up in one front of one of the vocal lesson rooms and deciding that should be a safe enough place to wait out my attack, I entered and leaned against the wall next to the door without turning on the lights.

Now feeling as secure as I could from the possibility of being found, I let my emotions overwhelm me. Tears started streaming down my cheeks as choked sobs escaped my throat. Jordan wasn’t going to call me back. How stupid could I have possibly been? How many years had it been since he’d been playing my emotions like a fiddle?

At least five years, that was for sure. That was my first memory of this pattern developing. My 16th birthday party, when he promised he’d be there but hours passed and he wasn’t answering any of my calls. I gave him the benefit of the doubt and thought something came up, he was just busy and forgot to tell me. That is, until one of my friends called him from her phone and he didn’t realize she was at my house for the party so he answered. As soon as she asked him why he wasn’t there, he quickly hung up and didn’t answer any more calls after that.

I cried my eyes out that night. My best friend, the person who I trusted more than anyone else. Who had been by my side since we were five years old, and went through years of school with while we were considered weird and didn’t fit in at all. We were there for each other and didn’t care what other people thought because we were happy being as good of friends as we were and even finding a few other friends along the way who were just as odd. That same friend had purposely ignored me on my birthday.

It wasn’t until two weeks later that I called him again, and he actually picked up. He profusely apologized and came up with some kind of explanation as to why he couldn’t make it. I asked him why he wouldn’t tell me that straight up instead of making me feel terrible that he was ignoring me on a day that was important to me. But he just apologized over and over, promising he wouldn’t do it again and he’d remember to keep in touch with me.

I was too naïve, too hopeful and clinging onto my friendship with him to see that for what it really was: excuses. Just excuses.

My face had to have been a mess by now, completely tear-streaked and all shades of blotchy reds from how much I was already crying. My thoughts were still racing as I recalled various events and empty promises from the years identical to the one I just experienced. I was hyperventilating, and started hitting the back of my head against the wall behind me as if that would rid my mind of all the thoughts swirling around.

When that didn’t work, I gripped onto my hair, pulling tightly. I couldn’t believe I was so blind all this time. I wanted to believe so badly that someone I knew and trusted for that long couldn’t lie to me like that, that I left myself completely oblivious to what was really going on. What was wrong with me? How could I have been so dumb?

But more importantly, what was it that I did to make him do this to me?

Suddenly, the door to the room swung open. It happened too quickly for my overwhelmed mind to comprehend what was going on, much less react before someone’s hands were on top of mine, trying to loosen them from my hair. I knew someone was right in front of me and witnessing my breakdown; the part of my mind that was still logical knew it and wanted me to stop. But my emotions were running the show right now and they weren’t going to listen – they were going to keep going in the spiraling direction they were already headed.

“Oh my gosh, noona!” they said. “What’s wrong?” I recognized it as Hobi’s voice. Our hope, our sunshine. He was seeing me a mess. He surely wouldn’t want anything to do with me after seeing me in this state. “Please, talk to me noona.”

I curled up even further into a ball, hiding my face behind my knees and keeping my hands tightly gripped onto my hair despite Hobi’s best attempts to remove them. I was unable to help myself from continuing to sob, finding it even harder to breathe than before in this new position.

“Guys! She’s in the vocal lesson area!” Hoseok yelled. “Please come here, quick!” he turned his attention to me, starting to make shushing sounds. “It’s okay, noona.” His voice was suddenly quiet and calming, but wasn’t doing much to aid in my racing mind. Although he did finally loosen my hands from their vice grip in my hair. “Noona, it’s alright. We’re here for you. Just please, talk to me.” He was stroking my hair in what I recognized was an attempt to soothe me. But again, I was still too far gone for it to help right now.

I shook my head, face still hidden. “No,” I said. “N-no. no,” I stuttered through hiccupped breaths. “He… He’s n-not… He’s a-a li-liar.” My mind was stuck in English mode so I don’t know if Hobi understood what I said. I started rocking back and forth, beginning to have difficulty maintaining control over my own muscles.

Hoseok continued trying to console me by shushing and stroking my hair, at a loss for what else he could possibly do. I heard others enter the room, pausing when they saw the state I was in.

“What’s wrong?” Jimin’s normally calmingly melodic voice sounded far away, as if I was inside of a fishbowl.

“I don’t know,” Hoseok said. “I found her like this and she won’t talk to me.”

“I think she’s having a panic attack,” a deeper, somewhat raspy voice said, but I could barely hear it.

I thought there were others and that they talked a little bit more but their voices were being drowned out by my mind. More memories, more thoughts. I felt like I wasn’t myself, and I knew I needed to calm down and come back down to earth. But that part of my mind was locked behind metal bars and my emotions were in control now. How could I have been so dumb? I knew what was going on but I refused to see it. It was my fault, I had to have done something for him to do this to me.

My fault. Something was wrong with me. Everyone left me. It had to be me. What was it? Why couldn’t people stay? Why did they always leave? Why, why?

I felt out of control of my own body as I lifted my head and started hitting it against the wall in synchronization with repeating the word “why” through my mind over and over. At least until something held onto my head to stop it from moving.

I was aware of everything I was doing. I knew it was silly and I needed to stop. But I couldn’t, I didn’t feel in control. I started mumbling those same short sentences that had been running through my mind, still being hindered through the hiccupped breaths from hyperventilating. By this point I was feeling dizzy from the lack of sufficient oxygen making it through to my lungs.

One of the hands holding my head still moved to rest on the back of it, gently stroking my hair. Someone else was running their thumbs over my cheeks to wipe away the tear stains. Another hand gently ran up and down the calf of my leg in a calming motion. The combined efforts of these actions started bringing the voices around me back into focus as I slowly opened my eyes.

“Noona,” Jimin’s sweet voice broke through first. I looked at him. “There you are. Hey, it’s okay.” He repeated the last sentence a few times. I realized he was the one caressing my leg.

I heard Jungkook’s calming voice singing a soft song somewhere close by.

“Noona, are you coming back to us?” Hoseok’s voice a little to my left spoke up and I looked his way. He was the one wiping my tears. It took me some effort, but I found the control to shakily nod my head to respond to him.

“You have to breathe, okay?” Jimin said.

“Let’s count in sets of four, noona,” Yoongi’s voice came from my right. “You’ll breathe in, hold your breath, and then breathe out for four counts each. And we’ll keep doing that. You think you can do that?”

I closed my eyes and nodded once more. Yoongi started counting and I did my best to follow the counts, although it was challenging with the short, uncontrolled breaths I had been taking for who knows how long by now. But each time the cycle restarted, it got a little bit better. I was able to focus my mind on the song Jungkook was singing, which kept my thoughts at bay as Yoongi helped my breathing come back to normal.

By the time my breath returned to normal, I felt in control of myself again.

“Welcome back,” Hoseok said with a soft smile as he removed his hands from my cheeks.

I started crying again, hiding my face in my hands.

“Noona,” Hoseok gently called me as he came closer to wrap his arms around me. “Hey, shh it’s okay. It’s okay.”

“Oh my gosh.” I could barely even recognize my own voice. It was so weak from all the crying and hyperventilating. “I can’t believe you guys saw me like that. I didn’t want you to ever see me like that.”

“It’s alright,” Jimin said as Yoongi ran his hand along my back to continue trying to comfort me. “We don’t mind. We just want you to be okay.”

“Noona, has this happened to you before?” Yoongi tentatively asked.

I slowly nodded. “You guys think I’m crazy, don’t you?”

“No, of course not!” Hobi assured me. “Why would we ever think that?”

“Because I literally just acted crazy,” I said, lifting my head to look at Hoseok. “I wasn’t in control of myself. My emotions went absolutely haywire and I had no power over my own actions. How does that not make me look crazy?”

I heard sniffling coming from somewhere nearby.

“You’re not crazy, noona,” I heard Joon’s voice but when I looked for him I couldn’t see him.

“The others are standing outside,” Jimin told me when he noticed me looking. “We couldn’t all fit in here.”

“Just because you had a panic attack, that doesn’t make you crazy,” Yoongi said.

“Do you think you can stand up?” Hobi asked, holding my hands with his own.

I responded by slowly raising myself off the floor, bracing my hands on the wall behind me to help. I was a little wobbly on my feet at first, but could still support myself after a moment.

Hoseok kept hold of one of my hands as I turned to walk out the door, and the first person I saw was Jin. He was holding a wet towel in his hands and used it to gently wipe my face. The water was cool and refreshing, helping my swollen eyes and hot cheeks to feel a little better, and I was sure it helped me look at least a tiny bit less of a mess than I was. He gave me a soft smile after he was done.

“Thank you, Jin,” I said. I looked next to him and saw the other three members, realizing where I heard the sniffling coming from. Tae and Kookie’s eyes were red and somewhat swollen. I gently let go of Hobi’s hand to walk over to them and wrap them both in a hug, and they quickly embraced me back, holding onto me tightly. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t want to worry you guys. I’m so sorry, please don’t cry.”

“Don’t apologize, noona,” Tae said. “I should apologize. I was the one who told you to call him. It’s my fault.”

I let go of them to grab his face and make him look me in the eyes. “None of that. It’s not your fault. None of us knew what was going to happen. And my fragile mental state is not your responsibility.”

I heard one of the boys make a disapproving whine at my statement, unhappy with how I described myself.

“Let’s get back to the dance studio so we have room to sit and talk, yeah?” Namjoon suggested.

I nodded in agreement, and Jimin was quick to come to my side and entwine his fingers with mine. We walked back in silence and Jimin gently guided me to sit on the couch once we were back in the room, sitting next to me. Hobi took the seat on my other side while the others sat around the floor in front of me.

“Do you want talk about it?” Joonie asked, placing a hand on my knee.

I exhaled a long breath, gathering myself. “I will. I’m sorry, guys. I know that must have been so out of the blue for you and I didn’t mean to scare you. I ran off because I felt the attack coming and didn’t want you guys to see it. I had hoped you wouldn’t have looked for me there.”

“Don’t apologize,” Yoongi was quick to say. “You don’t need to apologize for feeling your emotions. Sometimes they can get the best of you, but that’s okay. It’s not embarrassing. And it’s better to have someone there to help you through it than to go through it alone.”

“I’m glad we did find you,” Hobi said. “Who knows how long you would have been there like that if we didn’t.”

I nodded. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“What was it that plagued that beautiful head of yours, (Y/n)?” Jin asked.

“I know Namjoon was telling you guys what Jordan and I were saying so I’m sure I don’t need to explain that,” I started. They nodded in confirmation. “Well, it definitely may seem like that was nothing to trigger me. But when he said, ‘I’m busy. I’ll call you later,’ it was as if I had an epiphany. I realized that I had heard that from him countless times. So many times that he gave me promises of keeping in touch, of calling me or texting me later. Always to end up being empty. He never kept those promises.”

Jimin started running his fingers through my hair, and I rested my head on his shoulder. I continued, “The first time I noticed something being off was at my 16th birthday party, about five years ago. He was supposed to come but didn’t show and ignored my calls. I talked to him two weeks later and he had this excuse that I just accepted because he was my best friend and I wanted to believe him. But really, he had no reason to ignore me and if he really did have a reason to not show he should have told me from the start.”

I wouldn’t stop fidgeting my hands, so Hobi took one in his and rubbed comforting circles on it with his thumb. “After that, I started getting more and more empty promises. I think I knew for a while, but I didn’t want to admit it to myself. But when he told me that this time… I just couldn’t deny it anymore. That I realized every time I got in contact with him, or we managed to meet each other it was by pure coincidence, and it was always me reaching out. Today, he answered my call because he didn’t know it was me. And that wouldn’t be the first time something like that happened.”

I closed my eyes, trying to keep myself from crying again. “Over and over and over again, he apologized for not being the one to reach out or not keeping in touch. And he’d promise to change that. But he never did, not even once. For five years. Five. Years. He didn’t have the guts to just tell me that…” I couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. Saying this out loud, admitting it outside of my thoughts made it too real. “That he just doesn’t care about me or want to be my friend anymore. Is it really that hard to not string someone along, to not lie to them and keep giving them hope that everything’s still okay?”

Hoseok wrapped his arms around me as I leaned further into Jimin’s shoulder, getting his shirt wet with my tears. “How could he just decide it was okay to do that to me? I trusted him and believed in him. He was there for me when no one else was for such a long time. When no one else wanted to be my friend, when I was oblivious to the other kids making fun of us, he was always there. And I was stupid enough to believe he always would be. But that’s the thing – the only thing that’s a definite when it comes to me is that my friends will always leave me.”

“Don’t say that,” Tae said. “Even if that may have happened up until now, you can’t say that’s what will always happen. Because no matter what, we’re not going anywhere, noona.”

I really wanted to argue that there’s no way he could know that, but I didn’t have the energy to debate on that right now.

“What was going through your mind when you were having your attack?” Yoongi asked. “Other than having that realization about him, I mean.”

I bit my lip, not wanting to voice it out loud. The state of my mind definitely amplified them but that didn’t mean that they weren’t things that I didn’t think of more often than I cared to admit. I was hoping we could move onto something else, but my silence spoke volumes. Yoongi seemed too familiar with what I was going through, he must have known that the destructive mannerisms had to come from destructive thoughts as well.

Jimin pulled away a little so he could make me look him in the eye. “Noona, please. We know there are things you may want to keep to yourself, but we really want to make sure you’re okay. Please tell us.”

I sighed, knowing I wasn’t getting out of this. And I wasn’t in a state to come up with a quick lie. “At the worst part,” I started, “the part when I was hitting my head against the wall.” I saw the others cringe or make sounds of displeasure at me recounting that. “I was thinking how it’s my fault. That there has to be something wrong with me that makes people always leave. Because I’m the common denominator, I have to be at fault. And I was asking myself why, what it is that causes it and why I’m like this.”

“Oh, noona,” I heard Jungkook say in a very sad tone.

“How often do you think those things?” Yoongi asked.

“Is this a counseling session or something?” I responded.

“Basically, yeah,” he said without missing a beat. “Please, answer my question.” His sentences may have been short and to the point, but they were full of care.

“I don’t know how often but,” I paused while thinking of how to phrase it, “I wouldn’t call it uncommon.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you, (Y/n),” Jin said. “We told you this before. Those people just don’t know how wonderful you are. But we know, and we aren’t planning on giving you up for anything.”

“You say that now,” I mumbled under my breath in English.

“I heard that,” Joonie responded. The others looked at him curiously. “Basically, she implied that we think that way now but it doesn’t mean it’ll stay that way.”

“We won’t leave you, noona,” Tae said, almost sounding desperate. “We would never want to.”

“It took Jordan eleven years to start to get sick of me,” I replied. “Others only took a few months, some a year or two. But he took eleven years.” I could see on their faces that they knew what I was implying. That even if we were good friends for a very long time, it still didn’t mean it was permanent.

“You are right about one thing,” Hobi said, gently turning my head towards him. “You can’t predict the future. None of us have any idea where we’re going to be in five, ten, or fifty years in the future. But there is something we do know. That right now, you are one of our closest friends. And we all love you and don’t know what we’d do without you. We know that we want you in our lives, and we don’t see that changing any time soon. Just as you don’t know if later down the line we may drift apart, you also can’t say that we won’t be just as close in fifty years as we are now. I don’t know about you, but I’m willing to bet on the latter.” He touched his forehead to mine as he finished his speech.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, closing my eyes. “I really do love you guys. It just scares me. I’ve never talked much about it with you all because I thought I had it under control, but I have battled anxiety for quite a few years now. I thought it was more or less gone but I’ve been fighting the negative thoughts again lately. I’m doing what I can to keep them under control but that’s sometimes easier said than done.”

“You should be open about it with us,” Jin said. “If you tell us something is bothering you then we can help.”

“I’ll try to be,” I said.

“Noona,” Taehyung maneuvered his way through his hyungs to sit right in front of me. “We love you. And we’re here for you. You’re always here for us, so let us be there for you. Hmm?”

I gave him a soft smile. “Okay, Taetae. I love you guys too.”

He extended himself toward me to include himself in the already tangled embraces of myself, Jimin, and Hobi. And the rest of the boys took that as their cue to pile in for a big, chaotic group hug that ended with us all laughing because of how awkward of a fit it was.

“Oh!” Jungkook exclaimed as we all righted ourselves again. “Can we have a sleepover again? It was so much fun last time.”

“I live right across the hall from you guys, it is literally unnecessary,” I said.

“We don’t care,” Joonie said, grabbing my things. “I vote yes for the sleepover.”

And soon enough the rest of the boys were all voicing their agreements to the notion as well.

My anxiety really might get the best of me sometimes, but one thing was for sure. Where I was right here, right now, surrounded by these people – this was a place I could be happy. And I planned on cherishing it for as long as I possibly could.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 25 | Chapter 26 | Chapter 27

Tags: @calling-dips-on-j-hope @misohime @netflix-batman-sleep @smallbaby-cat @leitholdwithlove @ramyagovindraj @leesalts @rjsmochii

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theunknowncryptid · 4 years

Text

Part Thirty Eight - The Third Task

Masterlist

Yoongi x Y/n

After a horrible prank, Slytherin, Min Yoongi, is entered into the Triwizard Tournament. Y/n, feeling responsible, decides it’s her personal mission to make sure he survives the ordeal

~ ~ ~

Cheers of excitement filled the large room and Y/n felt the urge to cover her ears.

The day of the final task had finally arrived and the entire student body, plus the students from Durmstrang and Beauxbaton, had crammed into the Great Hall to witness the event. The regular house tables were gone, so that the room was a large, open space. For activities. Stands, similar to the ones in the Quidditch pitch, lined the walls. Teenagers squished together in the seats like one, giant, pubescent monster. Everyone was hollering and yelling because the three champions had just entered the hall.

Y/n tried to steady her breathing as she focused on Yoongi. He looked nervous. He stood with Ivanov and Bisset facing the head table where the teachers and the same ministry officials from the last two tasks sat.

Over the last month and a half, there had been total radio silence from Yoongi. After he blocked her number, Y/n didn’t try to contact him. She knew she didn’t have the right after lying to Yoongi for months. “It’s what I deserve,” Y/n told her friends. They just looked at her with sympathy. Of course, she missed him. God, she missed him. Sometimes, she felt like she would give her right arm just to get him to look at her. But, she got nothing.

In potions class Yoongi had requested a different partner. Being a Slytherin and in Snapes favor, he got his wish. Now, Y/n spent every other afternoon with Amanda Nosewoff and Yoongi never so much as looked in her direction. She wished so badly that he would glance in her direction. Anything- even a glare would suffice. But, she got nothing.

The acceptance that Yoongi wanted nothing to do with her and that their relationship was over began to take its toll on Y/n. She would sleep through the weekends, ignoring her friends requests to go to Hogsmeade or to just hang around the castle.

Y/n also started skipping meals. In order to avoid Yoongi at all costs she would go hungry. Her figure grew thinner than normal and her eyes turned dull- as if her soul had been sucked out by a dementor.Unable to hide anything, her friends quickly noticed.

“Baby girl, you have to eat.” Jimin would plead with her. Y/n would shake her head.

“I’m not hungry.” She lied. Y/n loved him and Yoongi hated her.

In summary, Y/n was not doing well. Seeing Yoongi everyday felt like someone was wringing out her small intestine like a wet rag. And today was no different. Seeing him standing there with the other champions, about to face death, made Y/n feel like vomiting.

From his place next to Y/n, Taehyung gave Y/n a questioning glance. Y/n tried to brush off his concern.

“I haven't helped him prepare for this task.” She said. “I’m worried.”

Taehyung nodded in understanding. He didn’t press Y/n further on the subject. At the Head Table, the ministry official raised his hands to call for silence. The chatter died almost instantly.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” The man smiled. “Welcome to the final task of the Triwizard Tournament!” The crowd cheered wildly, but quieted again at the man's raised hand. “Our three champions have shown talent in skill in the previous tasks, every school should be proud of their students' efforts.” Y/n giggled quietly, having spotted Yoongi rolling his eyes. She ministry man raised his want and a picture seemed to project itself into the air. A large banner showed a profile picture of Yoongi, Jacque Bisset and Natalia Ivanov with numbers next to their names.

“In last place, with a score of 12, is our Hogwarts Champion, Min Yoongi!” The man announced happily. The Hogwarts students clapped half-heartedly and Y/n saw Yoongi blush. “In second place, with 15 points, is Jacque Bisset of Beauxbaton! And in first place, with 17 points, is the Durmstrang Champion, Natalia Ivanov!” Enthusiastic applause followed. The man flourished his wand once more and a plain door appeared behind the champions.

“This final task will test our champions' skill, determination, and bravery. One at a time they will enter this doorway. They must move through five different rooms to reach the Triwizard Cup. Each room will hold a different, dangerous challenge. First to the cup will be the Triwizard Champion.” The crowd cheered. “Though each champion will be brought to a different room, their ranking will give them a head start. Miss Ivanov will enter the doorway first, then Mr. Bisset, and Finally, Mr. Min.” The official smiled broadly. “If there are no questions, we will begin.”

The champions turned to face the door. “Miss Ivanov, whenever you are ready.” Without hesitation, Natalia walked forward, opened the door and walked through. Y/n could see through the doorway to the other side of the Great Hall, but Ivanov was gone.

Three minutes passed before the ministry official spoke again. “Mr. Bisset,” He motioned to the door. Jacque stumbled slightly, but walked to the door with confidence.

I can’t believe I ever dated him

After another three minutes, the man motioned to the door again. “Mr. Min,”

Y/n felt her stomach turn at Yoongi’s name. She didn’t want him in those rooms.

Yoongi walked forward slowly and gripped the door handle. He hesitated in the doorway.

“What’s he doing?” Jungkook whispered.

Then, Yoongi turned and looked directly at Y/n. Y/n’s eyes widened and her breath caught in a sharp intake. Yoongi just looked at her for a second, then he was gone.

Please, be safe.

~ ~ ~

Bisset entered the doorway and was gone with a slight shimmer of the air around him. Yoongi stood alone in the center of the room now, with 400 people staring at him. The room was quiet aside from occasional whispers. Yoongi fought the urge to turn slightly to the right and pick out the face he wanted to see most. Feigning disinterest for the last month was harder than he had expected. Now, standing in the face of danger, pretending to be angry seemed incredibly stupid.

Finding out that Y/n had known that Taehyung and Jungkook had put his name in the Goblet of Fire all along had broken Yoongi. Standing in that hidden corner of the Gryffindor Common Room, listening to Taehyung and Jungkook speak, Yoongi felt furious. Texting the groupchat full of their friends had been an act of spite. Yoongi regretted his actions as soon as he hit send on the words “I hate you”.

The anger that still boiled under his skin directed him to switch potions partners, but it was the regret that wouldn’t allow Yoongi to even look at Y/n. Like a magnet, He always knew where she was in a room without having to look and like the sun in the sky, Yoongi was forced to look away.

The loss of Y/n’s constant company hit Yoongi like a brick. Hoseok was his friend, of course, and the return of Jin made him happy, but it was like something cracked in his very soul. Smiles across the Great Hall, muffled laughter in class, waking up in the morning wishing you could stay in that position for the rest of eternity. All of that was gone. After a week of not speaking to Y/n, her friends, or even looking in her direction, Yoongi was positive he had made one of the biggest mistakes of his life. He missed her, horribly. It kept him awake at night, the gravity of the decisions he made out of anger. All of the cheesy symptoms of heart break afflicted Yoongi. He couldn’t sleep, He couldn’t eat, blah, blah, blah…

Hoseok and Jin pressed Yoongi to talk to Y/n, but he refused. He was never good at acknowledging his feelings before he was emotionally involved. Now? Yoongi would rather dance, stark naked, in the middle of the quidditch pitch than face his feelings and admit he made a mistake.

The reality of the situation was that standing, now, about to walk into danger. Yoongi was lonely, he was sad, and he missed Y/n.

The ministry official lifted his hand. “Mr. Min,”. Yoongi turned to the door and walked to the threshold. With one hand on the door knob he paused. Murmurs spread through the air. Then, Yoongi turned to look at Y/n. He didn’t have to search for her. Just like before, Yoongi always knew where she was.

Y/n’s lips parted and her eyes widened. Fear and confusion were etched into her features. She looked different. Yoongi tried to silently communicate what he couldn’t say out loud.

Goodbye.

Then, he turned and walked through the empty doorframe.

An uncomfortable chill went through Yoongi’s body and the Great Hall transformed in clouds of smoke. Suddenly, strong gusts of wind whipped at his face and Yoongi was standing on a ledge in front of a stormy sea. Yoongi raised his arm to his face to shield his eyes from the wind. Through squinted eyes, Yoongi could see cracked stone walls and ceiling that created the massive room. The water spanned the entire length of the room. Gigantic waves formed and crashed against the walls and the small ledge Yoongi balanced on. He could taste salt water on his lips. Light seemed to come from beneath the murky water, illuminating the room in a blue-green light. Yoongi could barely make out a plain, wooden door against the far wall. About 1,000 feet away.

“Okay..” Yoongi spoke to himself. He had never been the most talented swimmer in the best conditions, but he couldn’t really see another choice right now. Ungracefully, Yoongi crouched down and used his arms to lower himself into the water. He hissed a sharp breath. The water was ice cold. Yoongi released the ledge completely and the waves enveloped him immediately. Screaming wind was muffled under the water. He kicked his legs and arms out to pull himself to the surface. Yoongi emerged gasping for air. He pushed his arms forward through the waves. Wind sprayed water in his eyes so that they burned. He was certain they would be red later. Yoongi kicked and pulled his arms through the water. Slowly, he swam across the stormy sea. Waves pulled him under and Yoongi fought to the point of exhaustion to reach air. At the halfway point, his body burned from overuse. He paused, treading water, to catch his breath. He focused on catching his breath and timing his movements with the waves. Suddenly, sharp pain exploded from his ankle and with a cry of pain, Yoongi was yanked down.

Something was pulling him down further into the water. Yoongi opened his eyes in the green water and looked down. The light was fading the deeper he went, but Yoongi could make out the blurry form of something attached to his leg. A small octopus-like creature had two arms wrapped around him and six extra arms were flailing in the water, rapidly swimming down into the water. Yoongi recognized the creature immediately. A Grindylow. Since he began swimming, Yoongi had his wand held tight in his hand. He pointed it down at the Grindylow.

“Expulso!” Yoongi’s words came out garbled in the water, but a burst of light shot out from his wand. With a high-pitched screech, the Grindylow released his leg. Yoongi kicked out and pulled himself to the surface. Choked out water spewed from his mouth and Yoongi gasped for air. He caught his breath and tried to swim forward toward the door. He only made it 10 feet before he was yanked back down.

Faster than before, Yoongi was speeding towards the bottom of the sea. He opened his eyes again and saw several Grindylows attached to his legs, biting and pulling. Red blood flowed into the water and past Yoongi’s face. Yoongi aimed down and shot spells at the creatures. The first few missed, but one hit- killing the creature instantly. It floated off into the water and the pull into the dark slowed. Yoongi felt his lungs burning from lack of air. He shot another spell, shouting into the water. He hit another Grindylow and it swam off. It made the same high-pitched whine as the other. The water around him was so dark now, Yoongi could barely see. Or maybe that was his vision fading. Thinking fast, Yoongi aimed his wand again.

“Deprimo!” He wailed into the water with a flurry of bubbles. A large explosion erupted from his wand and blasted away the remaining Grindylows. Yoongi screamed silently. The explosion burned his legs and pulled at his wounds. Yoongi pushed the water with his arms and kicked toward the surface. He winced at the pain and black clouded his vision. Gagging, Yoongi hit air again and started to swim toward the ledge. His body begged for him to stop. Blood flooded the green water around him. He was so close, he couldn’t stop.

After agonizing minutes desperate for air, fighting the waves and trying to outrun the Grindylows, Yoongi reached the ledge. He dug his nails into the stone and flipped onto his back. The wind chilled his limp body and Yoongi stared up at the stone ceiling.

“Fuck this whole Tournament.” He groaned. Yoongi pulled himself to his feet and opened the wooden door, eager to leave the devil sea behind him.

The door closed behind Yoongi with a slam. Everything was still and quiet. Like before, Yoongi stood in a dimly lit stone room, but this room was small. Maybe 10 feet tall as it was wide. It was also freezing cold. Yoongi could see his breath in the air. The west wall had two small windows covered in frost. He could see a night sky full of stars. It reminded Yoongi of the Astronomy Tower. He didn’t have to search for the exit door. It was merely 10, maybe 12, paces away against the far wall. It would be simple to walk the distance and leave.

In the middle of the room sat an unmarked wardrobe, about 7 feet tall.

Yoongi looked at the cupboard cautiously. There was nothing special about it on the outside. Carefully, Yoongi stepped forward. The door of the wardrobe swung open with a creek.

“Jin?” Yoongi asked. Kim Seokjin was climbing out of the wardrobe, smiling at him.

“Hey,” He laughed. Yoongi stared at the boy.

“What are you doing here?” Yoongi asked. Jin smiled. “... Jin?”

Jin’s smile stayed glued into place and his gaze trained on Yoongi. His eyes became glassy.

“Jin?” Yoongi asked again. He walked up to Jin and placed a hand on his shoulder. Jin’s smile faded. “Jin.” His gaze shifted so that he was staring aimlessly over Yoongi’s shoulder. Suddenly, Jin collapsed.

“Jin!” Yoongi fell to his knees, trying to support the older boy. Yoongi clutched at his face. It was lifeless. “What’s happening?”

Unable to support him any longer, Jin dropped to the floor completely. Yoongi pounded on his chest mercilessly.

“Wake up! Jin!”

Yoongi blinked and Jin was gone. He had been replaced by the empty body of Hoseok.

“No.. Hoseok.” Yoongi briefly registered tears falling down his face. His hands flitted over Hoseok, like he was trying to help but he didn’t know how. Hoseok’s face was as lifeless as Jin’s had been. His eyes were wide open and cloudy. “Please.”

Yoongi choked on a sob when he blinked again and Hoseok’s body changed. Y/n’s dead body lay on the ground in front of him.

“No…” Yoongi trembled and tears rolled down his face like a river. He grabbed Y/n’s body and pulled her against his chest. Her body was cold. “No..” Yoongi sobbed. He rocked on his knees and cradled Y/n’s body to his chest. “No, no, no, no, no, no.” He repeated the words into Y/n’s hair like a mantra.

Hours could have passed and Yoongi wouldn’t have known. He stayed in that position longer than he should have. Eventually, Yoongi came to his senses. It was Boggart, designed to show Yoongi his biggest fears. It wasn’t Y/n, it wasn’t Hoseok, and it wasn’t Jin. They were all fine.

Yoongi sat up on his knees and looked down at Y/n’s dead body. He wiped at his face embarrassed. Surely all of Hogwarts was able to watch the Champions maneuver the rooms. Yoongi pointed his wand at the body.

“Riddikulus” He whispered. With a Snap! Y/n’s form changed into a wobbling Jack-In-The-Box. Yoongi stood shakily. Blood splattered the floor where he had been. Taking deep breaths, Yoongi limped to the door and left the room.

“Oh shit.”

Standing in the room, growling, frothing from the mouth, and hungry-looking were three vicious Chimaeras. Head of a lion, body of a goat, and tail of a dragon. Yoongi had never particularly liked any of those animals. Past the three snarling beasts, he could see an exit door against the far wall like the other rooms. Yoongi gripped his wand tighter in his hand.

“Stupefy!” Yoongi yelled, aiming for the Chimaera closest. It stumbled back and seemed to shake it’s mane. The other two bared their teeth and crept forward. The Chimaera on the right lunged forward suddenly. Yoongi threw up his arm in defense, but the beast bit down on his outstretched limb. Yoongi cried out as the sharp fangs tore his skin. He dropped his arm in an attempt to pull away his arm. The chimaera unhinged it’s jaw and released Yoongi. Blood gushed like a faucet from the long gashes. Without thinking, Yoongi used his uninjured arm to cradle his right.

The chimaera on the left lunged. Instead of biting down on Yoongi, it used it’s long fangs to scrape along his side. Yoongi fell to his knees in agony. Blood was pooling around him rapidly. He groped for his wand along the stone floor. Yoongi spotted it in between the feet on the largest Chimaera, having rolled away from him.

Down on his knees, holding himself up with one arm, Yoongi realized he was defenseless. His body felt cold and pain stabbed him everywhere. Yoongi looked up just in time to see yellow fangs were closing around him.

Everything went black.

~ ~ ~

Yoongi felt like someone was banging a drum on the inside of his skull. Sharp pain throbbed behind his eye sockets. With difficulty, he opened his eyes. It was blurry, but Yoongi could see a dimly lit ceiling. It smelled of chemicals. He pushed himself up on his elbows.

“Ah-” Yoongi groaned. His body was sore everywhere and sharp pain sprung from a pulling feeling on his side. He was laying in a bed with crisp white sheets. The Hospital Wing. Yoongi looked down at his arms. The right was wrapped in bandages. From shifting in his cot, Yoongi could tell that his midsection was wrapped similarly. He pulled himself fully into a sitting position. The room was dark. The windows proved that it was nighttime. Blue curtains were drawn around his bed.

“Mmm” Someone moaned. Yoongi flinched at the sudden noise. Shaking his head, Yoongi rubbed his eyes to clear his foggy vision. Someone was sitting in a chair next to his bedside with their head rested on folded arms against his cot.

“Y/n?” Yoongi said. The previously sleeping girl jolted.

“Yoongi!” Y/n’s voice cracked when she spoke. She stood up and immediately started fussing over him.

“Oh, my God. I was so worried. Are you in pain? Should I get Madam Pomfrey? It’s almost time to change your wounds anyway, so I might as well.” Y/n ran her hands through her hair. She was clearly frazzled. She spoke with her arms flailing “Thank Merlin you’re awake. Everyone has been insane with worry. I should really get Madam Pomfre-” Yoongi reached his arms out, wincing, and wrapped his hands around Y/n’s wrists to quiet her. Y/n froze and looked at Yoongi when he pulled her hands close to his chest.

“What happened?” Yoongi asked. His voice was hoarse. Y/n sat carefully on the side of his bed.

“We were all watching you through the rooms,” Y/n started. Yoongi nodded for her to continue. “When you got to the Chimaeras, you were already hurt. McGonagall wanted to pull you out then, but the ministry officials wouldn’t let her. When you started losing so much blood and passed out, she pulled you anyway. Natalia had won the tournament by that point anyway, so it didn’t really matter.”

“How long was I unconscious?” Yoongi asked. He still held Y/n’s hands to his chest.

“Five days. They put you in a bewitched sleep.” Y/n said. She looked down at the sheets. “... I thought you were going to die.”

Her voice broke and Yoongi didn’t have to look to know she was crying. He reached out with his good arm and lifted Y/n’s face. She leaned into his and he brushed away her tears with his thumb.

“I didn't,” Yoongi said with a small smile. Y/n laughed and nodded. “I’m surprised that you’re here,” She looked up at him, guiltily.

“Yoongi, look,” Y/n said. “I know what I did was wrong and I can’t do anything to make up for what I did, but I’m sorry. I miss you and I understand that you don’t want anything to do with me anymore and I will accept that eventually, but you were hurt and.. I just needed to make sure you were okay.” Y/n looked like she might start crying again. “If you still want to stay broken up that’s okay, but I want you to know that I want you. I want to be with you.” She cleared her throat uncomfortably. “T-that’s how I feel, how do you feel?”

With the hand on Y/n’s cheek, Yoongi pulled her forward and pressed his lips against hers. Y/n squeaked briefly in surprise, but quickly melted into the kiss. Ignoring the pain, Yoongi lifted his arm and wrapped it around Y/n’s waist so that she was pressed into him. He kissed her with everything he could, every emotion he could convey, and all the feelings he wished he could share over the last six weeks. The tears that fell down Y/n’s cheeks matched Yoongi’s. Yoongi kissed her like it was the last thing he would ever do and the only thing he ever wanted to do.

When Y/n pulled away to catch her breath Yoongi continued peppering her lips with light kisses, again and again. Y/n put her hand to Yoongi’s face to brush his tear-streaked face.

“I thought you hated me?” Y/n asked quietly. Yoongi shook his head.

“I never hated you,” He said. “I was being overdramatic and I regretted it as soon as I said that. I was hurt and I didn’t know what to do. I’m stupid. I’m very stupid.” Yoongi joked. Y/n laughed at him and sniffled. He leaned forward until his forehead was pressed to Y/n’s.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

176 notes · View notes

ibijau · 4 years

Text

Jin Rusong Lives / On AO3

Nie Huaisang organises Jin Rusong's stay in the Unclean Realm, and receives an expected but still unpleasant visitor

Nothing was ready to welcome a child into Nie Huaisang's life, but he was nothing if not adaptable. He quickly decided that due to his young age and the circumstances, Jin Rusong would sleep in his room for the time being, so a small bed was brought there. As for clothes, although Jiang Wanyin had brought some Jin robes of the right size, Nie Huaisang quickly decided that it might be wiser to dress the child in Nie colours for the time being, to avoid attracting attention.

Nie Huaisang had no intention of making the son pay for the crime of the father, but he wasn't the only one with a grudge against Jin Guangyao.

When they retired for the night, Jin Rusong didn't protest over wearing different colours. He only became agitated when Nie Huaisang, armed with a wet cloth, tried to remove his cinnabar dot.

"Mommy says it's important!" he gasped, putting both hands on his forehead to protect the dot. "She says I'm big now and I have to be careful."

Kneeling in front of the child, Nie Huaisang smiled weakly. Very young children wore the dot only on special occasions since there was the risk of it being smudged by accident, which would have been undignified. It had only been a few months before his apparent death that Jin Rusong had been trusted to wear it constantly.

He'd been so proud to be this grown up, there had been a party to celebrate this new stage of his life, and then Nie Huaisang hadn't seen him for weeks, too busy gathering information on Jin Guangyo. He hadn't seen Jin Rusong again until the day…

He wondered how Jin Guangyao had faked that. Jin Rusong had been blue and green when they found his corpse, that red dot contrasting with the awful tint of his skin, a half eaten cake in his hand and… Nie Huaisang could still see it, just as he could still see his brother looming over him and collapsing, the moment Shuoyue had pierced Jin Guangyao's chest, his father's last bout of rage, his pregnant mother losing blood too fast to be saved.

There were corpses everywhere in his life, and he should have done more, should have done better, should have…

"Uncle Nie, don't cry!" Jin Rusong exclaimed, throwing himself at Nie Huaisang’s neck. "I'll be good, don't cry!"

Nie Huaisang felt his cheeks heat up and his chest go cold at having broken down not simply in front of another person, but before a child who had enough trouble already. He laughed awkwardly, and wiped away his tears with the back of one hand.

"SongSong is always good," he said. "I'm not crying because of you, I swear. Your uncle Nie is just a big crybaby, don't pay attention."

Jin Rusong pouted, and used the hem of his sleeve to dab at the last traces of moisture on Nie Huaisang’s face.

"It's okay uncle Nie, I won't tell. Mommy says everyone cries. Even LinLing cries, but he lies and he says he doesn't."

"Does SongSong cry too sometimes?"

The child frowned and nodded. "I cried a lot when you were gone. It made uncle Jiang angry and it was scary and I cried even more." He paused, tightening his grip on Nie Huaisang’s neck and burying his face against his shoulder. "Uncle Nie, don't send me back with uncle Jiang. I'll be good. I'll let you clean my face. Don't send me back, please!"

"I'll be good too so nobody takes SongSong away," Nie Huaisang replied, the closest thing to a promise he could make when he had so little power over this. "It's ok if you're naughty sometimes, and if you cry, or even if you steal uncle Nie's fan when your hands are sticky with honey…" He felt Jin Rusong giggle at the memory, and wrapped his arms around him. "Uncle Nie is happy to have you and will do his best to keep you, as long as you want. Understood?"

Jin Rusong nodded, but did not release his grip. Nie Huaisang had remembered him as an affectionate little boy, but memories were fickle things and he had wondered sometimes if Jin Rusong had really been that sweet. If anything, it appeared Nie Huaisang had downplayed how cuddly Jin Rusong was… and how clever as well.

"SongSong, if I explain, will you let me remove that dot?" he asked, waiting for a nod to continue. “Your daddy… he made some people angry. And now everyone who loves you is worried that those angry people might want to do something bad to you. That’s why LingLing couldn’t keep you with him, and why you had to be with either uncle Jiang or me. Now, think of it, the people you’ve seen here, do they have a dot like yours?”

“No. Mommy says it’s only for us.”

“Yes, it’s only the Jins who always have one. So when people see you right now, even if you’re wearing my colours, they can guess you’re a Jin. And normally that’s great! You should be proud of being a Jin, like your… like your daddy. But because of those angry people, for now it would be better if you could hide and look more like a Nie. It’s just for a little time, SongSong, until everything is safe.”

Jin Rusong tensed, but nodded weakly.

“Am I going to die, like mommy and daddy?” he whispered.

“Not as long as I’m here to protect you,” Nie Huaisang fiercely replied, still thinking of the little boy’s corpse, years before, the memory nearly enough to choke him. “Uncle Nie will protect you, and I’m sure uncle Jiang and LingLing are working hard to make sure everything is safe for you.”

“Uncle Lan too?”

Nie Huaisang hesitated, but not for long.

“Of course uncle Lan too. He cannot come see you now, and maybe not for a long while, but he’s still thinking of you. SongSong knows we all love him very much, right? Our precious little SongSong! Those angry people should watch out, we love our SongSong and we will keep him very safe!”

Satisfied by that promise, Jin Rusong relaxed and finally allowed Nie Huaisang to wipe away the cinnabar dot on his forehead. The skin under remained stained, but that would go away in time, leaving Jin Rusong indistinguishable from the other young disciples of Qinghe Nie. Hopefully those were unnecessary measures, hopefully nobody would think to harm that child… but Nie Huaisang knew better than to hope. Even he had briefly considered it once or twice at the darkest of his despair, so he couldn’t expect others not to want the same.

With that mark taken care of, it was time for sleep. Normally Nie Huaisang stayed up late, but that night Jin Rusong shyly asked if he could sleep in his bed, mumbling his mother would let him do that when he’d had an upsetting day, and…

And Nie Huaisang, the reason Jin Rusong’s mother would never be there for him again, could never have denied him that request.

It had been a very long time since Nie Huaisang had shared a bed with anyone. Not since his student days in Gusu, when sometimes they’d all partied a little too much and fallen down as a pile on the nearest surface. Having Jin Rusong curled up against him, asleep before his head even touched his pillow, was a different experience. There was peace to be found in watching that child sleep, but above all else there was stifling guilt. For Nie Huaisang to be taking care of that boy was ridiculous. It was as if, after his father’s death, Wen Ruohan had taken him in and promised that nobody would ever hurt him again. Worse even, because at least Wen Ruohan had never faked friendship, had never pretended to like and admire the old Nie sect leader. Wen Ruohan, whatever else he had been, had been open and honest in his hatred, while Nie Huaisang had…

He should have written to Jiang Wanyin right away, Nie Huaisang told himself, wrapping his arms around Jin Rusong and pulling him closer. He should have begged for the Jins, Jiangs, or Lans to take in that child. Jin Rusong needed to be in the care of someone honest and trustworthy, not that of the man who had pushed his mother to suicide and cause his father’s death.

Jin Rusong deserved better.

If Nie Huaisang had had any decency, he would have sent him away to safety.

When Nie Huaisang woke up some hours later, the thought of calling back Jiang Wanyin so he’d take Jin Rusong to some other people had left him. Not because his guilt had calmed down, but because he realised that the little boy might take it as rejection. After everything that had happened to him, he needed some stability for a while, even if it had to be in the house of a murderer.

And so, once Jin Rusong had awakened as well, Nie Huaisang set out to provide him that stability. After having breakfast together, he decided to show his new ward the place that would be his home until a better one could be found. Jin Rusong, who had only left Carp Tower once or twice to go visit his grandfather in Laoling, was very surprised to find how different the Unclean Realm was from those places he knew. Qinghe Nie had been built to be a fortress rather than a place of leisure, and while there were some oases of beauty within it, most buildings and spaces existed to be practical and sensible above all else.

Still, Jin Rusong seemed to like it well enough. He was very enthusiastic when shown the aviary Nie Huaisang still kept, though it was nothing impressive these days, since he hadn’t bought any new birds in years. Nie Huaisang had to promise that they would care for the animals together in the future, so that the birds would not get used to this little stranger and sing for him as they did for their owner. He also had to promise that they would go in the mountains around the Unclean Realm for walks because Jin Rusong, used to the plains, found them fascinating.

If the visit went well, introducing Jin Rusong to the children his age that lived in the Unclean Realm was more delicate. The little boy, perfectly at ease with Nie Huaisang whom he knew, turned shy and nearly mute when faced with others his age. Nie Huaisang blamed that on the Jins’ obsession with hierarchy. Most sect segregated somewhat between clan children and outer disciples, but the Jins discriminated even within the clan. Jin Rusong and Jin Rulan had only had each other as friends, and then too soon Jin Rulan had found himself alone and kept somewhat aside from others his age. It had been the same for Jin Zixuan. Even after so many years, Nie Huaisang remembered how awkward Jin Zixuan had been when he’d arrived in Gusu, completely unused to chatting with boys his age.

It wouldn’t be like that for Jin Ruson, Nie Huaisang decided. That child was going to learn how to play with others. It would be awkward to make him join cultivation classes when his cousin might someday take him back and want him to learn the Jin way, but there were other classes he could attend where he’d be with other children. Nie Huaisang would give him a few days to settle down, and then that child was going to socialise like no Jin heir had ever done before.

Nie Huaisang had done a lot of wrong to that child, but at least this he would do right.

Even with the slight stress of being introduced to other children, it seemed that Jin Ruson enjoyed his first day in the Unclean Realm well enough. Over dinner in Nie Huaisang’s private quarters he kept talking about the things he had seen, as if forgetting that Nie Huaisang had been there for all of it. The constant babble was a little hard to follow, but Nie Huaisang figured it was a just punishment for his own tendencies to chatter endlessly when he was younger.

They had just finished eating when Nie Junyu came to find his sect leader, announcing with a grimace of disgust that the Ghost General was at the gate, demanding entry into the Unclean Realm.

“Didn’t I say he would come and had to be treated as a guest?” Nie Huaisang retorted, surprised to find his orders doubted this way. “Bring him in, quickly. And I do hope you’re going to be polite. Heavens knows we don’t have much going for us these days,” he added, muttering. “What will people think if we can’t even be polite to our guests now?”

“Sect Leader, that thing is…”

“Wen gongzi is no enemy,” Nie Huaisang cut him, feeling guilty for it. Nie Junyu had been there at the massacre in Nightless City, at the first siege of the Burial Mounds, and before that he’d fought in the Sunshot Campaign. “If you cannot bear his presence, then find someone who can and have them bring him here. I know this is unpleasant, but Hanguang-Jun and Jin zongzhu have both said they’re counting him as an ally, we really can’t go offending him… and SongSong needs him.”

Nie Junyu glared at his sect leader, looking angrier than he had been since the day he’d forced Nie Huaisang to admit he’d known for years what had truly happened to Nie Mingjue, but he still obeyed.

Nie Huaisang sighed. That poor man probably deserved a raise after everything he’d put him through that last year alone.

Before too long, another disciple came into his quarters, bringing the feared Ghost General with him. For a second Nie Huaisang couldn’t help staring, torn between disgust, fear and pity, but he quickly shook himself out of it, stood up, and put on his best smile to greet his guest.

“Wen gongzi, it is a pleasure and an honour to have you here,” he lied. “Please, come sit with us. We have much to talk about! Ah, SongSong, come here, come here! Say hi to Wen gongzi, don’t be so shy. Wen gongzi is here to help you after all, isn’t that so kind of him?”

Jin Rusong, who had gone to hide behind Nie Huaisang’s legs at the sight of the fierce corpse, made a pitiful little noise and shook his head. Nie Huaisang laughed airily and sat down, grabbing the child and pulling him on his lap.

“Well, at least you’re a very honest little boy,” he sighed, before smiling again at Wen Ning who was still standing. “Please, I insist, sit down. We have so much to talk about, you should make yourself comfortable. Do you… is it any good to you if I offer you tea? I’m not very used to guests of your sort, you’ll have to forgive me, but I’ll do my best, especially since I think we’ll see each other a lot, right?”

With some hesitation, Wen Ning walked around the table and sat next to Nie Huaisang, peering at him with those awful dead eyes of his.

“Tea would be wasted on me,” Wen Ning quietly explained. “Let’s… let’s not bother too much with formalities, Nie zongzhu. I’ll just check on Jin xiao-gongzi and… and be on my way for now.”

“Oh. Well, if you prefer. SongSong, you’ll be good and let Wen gongzi make sure that you’re fine, right?”

“He’s scary,” Jin Rusong mumbled. “His skin is all grey and his face doesn’t move.”

Nie Huaisang tensed and glanced at Wen Ning, fearing his reaction, but the fierce corpse appeared unbothered. He probably had heard that before, and worse things still.

“I’m sorry if I’m scaring Jin xiao-gongzi,” he said in a shy voice. “I hope you’ll get used to me. Can I have your hand? I’ll just do a quick check-up today, don’t worry.”

Still worried, Jin Rusong looked up at Nie Huaisang who gave him an encouraging nod. When even that wasn’t enough to comfort the child, Nie Huaisang sighed and, struck by a memory of his youth, offered his own arm to the fierce corpse.

“Wen gongzi, if you don’t mind, could you show on me how you do this? That way SongSong can see there’s nothing at all to worry about.”

It was hard to say with a face so inexpressive, but Wen Ning appeared almost surprised by the request. He still obeyed, taking Nie Huaisang’s wrist (his fingers were so cold it was repulsive, but Nie Huaisang managed to restrain himself from shivering or pulling away) and quickly checked his pulse and his spiritual energy.

“Nie zongzhu is in good health,” he announced. “He has a good, steady heart.”

“Now that’s not something I’ve heard often lately,” Nie Huaisang laughed. “Now, it’s SongSong’s turn. You saw there was nothing to fear, right SongSong?”

Although he was not quite comfortable, Jin Rusong obeyed and allowed Wen Ning to check on him. Nie Huaisang felt proud of his trick. It was something Nie Mingjue and their father had done sometimes, back when he was a little capricious brat, and he was glad to see it also worked on a child as good as Jin Rusong.

“Jin xiao-gongzi’s heart seems to be doing well,” Wen Ning announced. “I will give you some medication in case of a problem, but… I don’t think it’ll be needed. Jin xiao-gongzi is very strong, and has a very good health. Everything should be fine.”

“I’m very happy to hear this,” Nie Huaisang replied, affectionately ruffling Jin Rusong’s hair. “Now, SongSong, what if I give you my fan and you go play quietly while I chat a little with Wen gongzi?”

Given a chance to go away from the fierce corpse, Jin Rusong seized it and ran away with the fan to hide in a corner. Nie Huaisang kept on as polite a smile as possible, pretending this was a normal reaction.

“Wen gongzi, I’ve been thinking on how to organise ourselves in this matter,” he announced. “Jiang zongzhu told me that it would be necessary for you to check on Jin Rusong very frequently at first, so I was wondering if you might wish to reside inside the Unclean Realm for that period?”

Even with his stiff face, this time there could be no doubt that Wen Ning was shocked by that suggestion.

“Nie zongzhu that’s… that’s not, that’s, it’s… really?”

“I promise you that I will keep my disciples under control,” Nie Huaisang said, dropping his smile in an attempt to show sincerity, if he was still capable of such a thing. “I will give strict instructions so that you are not bothered. I know my word isn’t very impressive, but my disciples do listen to me.”

“Nie zongzhu, I don’t, I don’t doubt that your people would obey you,” Wen Ning mumbled, looking down at his knees. “I don’t. I don’t want. I hope it’s not too rude, but I don’t want to spend more time here than needed. You. You do realise that your sect has killed all my family, right?”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes widened at the reminder. He had forgotten actually, too taken by his worries for Jin Rusong’s well-being.

“It wasn’t just us,” he couldn’t help protesting.

“No, it wasn’t. But it was also you.”

It wasn’t me, Nie Huaisang almost exclaimed, only to force himself to smile instead. The slaughter of the Wens had never been in his hands, it was at least one crime in which he hadn’t participated… but it didn’t matter. If Jin Guangyao had borne the blame for some of the crimes of his father, then Nie Huaisang could deal with his brother’s. There was justice in that as well.

“You’re right, Wen gongzi. It was also us. I understand that you will not want to be in our presence then. Still, if you wish, I can pay for accommodations in Qinghe if that might be more comfortable for you. I really am grateful for what you’ve agreed to do for Jin Rusong. Considering the circumstances, I cannot imagine it was pleasant for you to help this child.”

“I’m from a clan of doctors,” Wen Ning placidly replied. “It’s what we did.”

The way he said it made it sound obvious that he would help those who needed it, even the son and grandson of the men who had meticulously organised the downfall of his family. Maybe it was really that evident for him. After all, Nie Huaisang knew that Wen Ning had once taken great risks to help Wei Wuxian during the war. He’d never known the details, except that it had led to that core transfer which had caused everyone such trouble, but it spoke of a certain righteousness.

There had to have been good people even in Qishan Wen.

It wasn’t something Nie Huaisang wanted to consider, no more than he wanted to think of Jin Guangyao loving his son enough to try to save him.

Nie Huaisang wanted things to be simple again, the way they had been before his brother’s death, the way he had always hoped they would be with his revenge accomplished. He wanted to have enemies who were hateful and without any qualities. He wanted friends who…

Ah.

Just having friends at all would have been nice at this point of course, but what he truly wanted were friends who loved and trusted him, the way he used to think he had. A foolish fantasy, at that point.

“Wen gongzi is an honourable man,” Nie Huaisang insisted. “And I will do anything I can to offer my thanks. Any favour, any request, only ask and I’ll do my best to offer it to the man who saved Jin Rusong.”

Wen Ning only nodded. Nie Huaisang imagined he could see disdain or doubt on that unmoving face, but it might have been nothing more than the force of habit. Either way, Wen Ning promptly gave him some recommendations regarding Jin Rusong’s health, handed him some alarm flares so he could be warned in case of trouble, and promptly left the Unclean Realm.

Nie Huaisang was relieved to see him go, and in no hurry to see him return.

Still, for Jin Rusong’s sake, he would bear with that too.

#jin rusong #nie huaisang #wen ning #mo dao zu shi #the untamed #jin rusong lives #jau writes #nhs my dude get your fucking depression under control already I want to write about jrs being a cute kid #nobody cares about your guilt nhs #jk I care about his guilt but this wasn't supposed to be the point of this fic ffs

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crazy4myself · 4 years

Text

Burnt Chicken

Word Count: 1.8K

Pairing: Gender Neutral Reader x Jin

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff

Rating: G

Summery: You haven’t seen your handsome husband don his apron the past three nights in a row. Instead, you’ve come home to see Jin kicking back a beer on the couch, take out containers laid out across the coffee table as he waited for you to get home. You knew something was up if he was too stressed to even cook. So you decided to take things into your own hands and make dinner for him for a change

Author’s note: this sweet little number was written for the BTS Ghosties Bingo Prompt: Is something Burning? I hope you like it :)

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You hummed to yourself as you finish setting the table taking the time to fold a crisp napkin tightly before laying the silverware on it. You lit the candle you chose as the dining tables centerpiece and smiled to yourself proudly running your fingers across soft the lace table cloth. It was passed down to you from your grandmother and you normally only pulled out for special occasions.

You got off work an hour early to surprise your husband with dinner. Out of the two of you, Jin was most definitely the cook of the household. In fact, in your four months of being married, he cooked dinner nearly every weeknight. You weren’t a horrible spouse who refused to help, you knew your way around the kitchen, but Jin genuinely loved cooking, it was one of the ways he destressed after work.

You, on the other hand, preferred getting your stress out in a more physical way and often frequented the gym for a workout or kickboxing class after work. You loved coming home all sweaty and tired, to a house filled with delicious smells and your husband singing as he wrapped up dinner. Often in just a dressed-down version of his work attire and an apron that was ironically gifted to you by his mother on your wedding day. He was always the most delicious looking thing in the kitchen.

However, you haven’t seen your handsome husband don his apron the past three nights in a row. Instead, you’ve come home to see Jin kicking back a beer on the couch, take out containers laid out across the coffee table as he waited for you to get home. You knew something must have been up if he was too stressed to even cook.

So you decided to take things into your own hands and make dinner for him for a change. While you hoped to cheer him up you had to admit you had a personal motive as well, you don’t think you could risk another night of takeout. You were already feeling bloated and like your face looked extra puffy from all the sodium you had been consuming lately.

You were no expert like Jin, but today you were ready to be the perfect picture of domesticity, going as far as dressing up a little and setting the dinner table for him to come home to. You smiled to yourself as you heard the door open and Jin calls you in confusion. He gets off work before you and that plus you gym visit gave him a good hour or so before you got home.

“Y/n are you home?”

You stood in front of the dining table adjusting the way the silverware laid next to his plate trying to contain your grin as he made his way from the entryway to see you.

You felt his strong arms wrap around your middle as he pulled you into his chest, kissing the top of your head.

“And what is the love of my life doing home so early hmm?” he asked as he nuzzled into your hair despite it being a little stiff from the products you used to style it.

“I thought you could do with a proper meal,” you replied turning in his arms and wrapping your own around his neck before planting a peck on his plush lips. Jin hummed in delight as he leaned in to capture your lips in a proper kiss.

You stand there for a moment embracing each other the kiss intensifying slightly as he pushed you against the table.

“That was a lovely appetizer,” you breathed finally breaking away from him he smiled slightly drinking in your flushed cheeks, “but it’s time to eat.” you continued before turning and making your way to the kitchen you smoothed down the wrinkles of your clothing as you tried to pull yourself together before taking out the sides.

You made a nice spring greens salad with a homemade vinaigrette recipe you knew Jin loved, homemade mash potatoes, the good kind with sour cream and heavy whipping cream in them, and baked rosemary and lemon chicken.

“Do you smell something burning,” Jin asked as he fallowed you in the kitchen.

“Oh no the chicken,” you cried rushing to the oven and almost burning yourself as you pulled it out. You kept it in the oven to keep the entre warm, but you had forgotten to turn it off. You inspected the crisp golden skin with a frown, it was still edible, but you didn’t have to tear into the meat to know that it was dry.

Jin stands next to you as he took in the burnt sprigs of rosemary that sat in the pan. One crackled into dust as he pinched it out the pan.

“Fresh herbs, nice,” he commented.

You glared at him pouting cutely. Jin was never shy when it came to critiquing you in the kitchen, it was almost more insulting that he tried to make a positive note out of the shriveled up chicken and lemons slices in the pan.

“The skin looks well seasoned,” he tried again in hopes of cheering you up.

You signed, pout still intact as you reached for a drumstick tearing a piece off to inspect the damage. You could find more moisture in the desert, you thought glumly as you chewed. Jin looked like he would agree with you after tearing off a piece for himself.

“I could make a quick aioli cream sauce you like. Do we have any more lemons?” he offered already turning to the fridge.

“No, we don’t! Besides I’m supposed to cook for you,” you whined pulling at his arm to keep him in place. “Dang it, I was supposed to cheer you up and I completely botched it. We would be better off ordering take out,” You whined.

Jin laughed as you before turning and cupping your face in both his hands, kissing you tenderly on your pouted lips, “You did cheer me up my love, and these sides look amazing no way you’re ordering out.”

You smiled up at him happily, blinking away the little tears of embarrassment, before you realized it did nothing to help with the hazy vision in the room.

“Smoke,” you said quickly pulling away from Jin, “Something IS burning,”

You pulled open the oven in investigation with no luck. Double-checking that the oven and all four burners were off you turned to see grey smoke billowing in from the dining room.

The candle.

You both rush to the dining room taking in the horror as you saw the rosey candle you lit turned over on the lace table cloth setting it alight. Jin immediately slips off his blazer beating it against the table in an attempt to snuff out the flames.

It was his favorite blazer, you noted sadly as you ran to fill up a glass with water in the sink. You got it for him when he got his promotion at work last year, and it was the one he wore when he proposed to you a few weeks later.

Your stomach was filled with dread as you urged the sink to push out water faster before you were running back to your husband and the flames. You tossed the water on the table haphazardly as you took too sharp a turn at the entryway.

The water hissed and turned to steam as it splashed on the edge of the fire most of it landing on the dining chair.

“Nice shot,” Jin commented with a squeaky laugh

“Now is not the time!” you hissed rushing back to the sink. Jin fallowed coughing from the smoke. He tossed his charred blazer aside and crouched next to you to reach in the cabinet under the sink as you filled another glass. You would aim this time.

“Grab the cat and get out of the house,” Jin ordered when he heard you cough.

“What, no you!” you snapped back stubbornly, pulling up the neckline to cover your nose, before taking your glass of water and rushing back to the blaze.

“And call 9-1-1 while you’re at it,” you added. You cringed as you saw the dry dining table chair has also caught. If the fire spread to your rug you guys were in deep trouble.

“We have insurance right?” you called through your coughing fit deciding to douce the carpet to keep the flames from spreading.

Jin only grunted his head still tucked under the sink as he dug through the cabinet.

“What are you even doing?” you asked heading for the fridge, you were tired of waiting for the sink to fill up your cup.

“Get out the house!” was his only reply.

You reached for the gallon of milk and carried it into the dining room swinging your arms in a wide arch as you clumsily, tried to slosh the milk onto the flames without getting too close. Your approach was somewhat effective on the bit closest to you but otherwise mostly just made a pungent-smelling smoke.

“Milk is for heartburn not burn burn!” Jin hissed shoving his wide shoulders passed you and the door frame. He held a bug spay sized can with a red lid and you clapped in delight as you saw a white foam shoot out. In the process of moving in from his apartment, a lot of his things got tossed in boxes, the two of you were still in the process of decluttering all your junk.

The fire extinguisher was a requierment when he moved into his first apartment in college, and it had fallowed him to each time he moved through the years.

“Oh thank God it didn’t expire,” Jin groaned as he put out the last of the flames. Through watery eyes, you took in the mess of milk and extinguisher juice that littered your burnt table and rug. The sweet lace of your grandmother’s tablecloth was nothing but a swatch of fabric now, and Jin’s blazer had a large hole in the back of it the brown sleeves were charred black.

Your stomach growling loudly broke the heavy silence.

Then, Jin was laughing a loud, high pitched, squeaky laugh, and you couldn’t couldn’t hold back your own.

“I agree,” Jin wheezed between his laughter, “we should definitely eat first.”

You both laughed until it turned into a coughing fits, but even then you couldn’t suppress the giggles that made their way up your throat between coughs. It was a terribly uncomfortable experience, the pressure in your chest hurt, your throat burned, and your eyes were streaming with tears but still, you both smiled as you turned to open the windows and doors to air out the house.

Jin captured you in his arms when you returned from checking on your cat, he was very displeased with the state of the house, but otherwise he safe and okay.

“So I’m thinking,” he started before giving you a quick peck, “if I grab the lemons out the compost, I can still use the zest to make the sauce.”

Thanks for reading!!!

#bts fic #jin x reader #btsgohstiebingo #btsghostie #btsbookclub #bangtanscenery #bangtanhq #bts guild #jin fluff #seokjin x reader #seokjin fluff #bts fluff

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years

Text

Chemical Spill ~ Seokjin X Reader

A/N: I’m working on a series of imagines where it’s based on all of their ZIP photos and I’m super hype about it! Here is Jins!

Word Count: 5,003

Warnings: mentions death, swearing

Genre: Fluffy|| Au|| cute

Summary: You’re living in a zombie apocalypse, everyone who was anyone has been taken underground to survive while all of the “normals” fight to stay alive but Jin isn’t like the rest, he was supposed to go into hiding but stayed behind to help others around him, he finds you in an abandoned hospital distract and takes an instant liking to you

Who would have thought a chemical plant leaking some strange unknown substance into a graveyard would have created the zombie apocalypse, well every person who worked there, the chemical plant was a danger to everyone and everything around it and when it finally spilt its contents into a graveyard creating zombies that walked around eating people whenever they could find them, the only problem with these zombies is that they looked almost human, sure the older corpses that were effected looked as though real zombies should look, or at least how to movies made them look, but the fresher bodies looked almost human if it wasn’t for the grunting and green ooze dripping from their mouth, the ooze was the same chemical that changed their bodies, to begin with, one drop of that in your bloodstream and you were a goner, people wouldn’t tell the difference, which is why it was so hard to move around city spaces or find a group of people to stay safe with, it was hard to trust people you didn’t know, the first stages of being turned from a small cut or bite were normal, you would just act as though it was a common cold or flu, only when you started to crave brains would people be able to tell, or when you would start to leak the substance from your mouth.

You had a group, you have a group of close friends, you’d been together for the first three years of the apocalypse, running together and surviving together as a group, but one by one they all began to get sloppy or give up on the fight and you watched every single one of them leave or die, even having to kill two of them after being bitten, that was the problem, one bite/scratch and it was all over, you had to be put down or you would become one of them, which no one wanted. You’d been alone for the best part of a year now, you’d backpacked across most of the country and were now heading for an abandoned distract close to the accident site of the chemical plant, which many people warned was dangerous but if it was closer to the start of the damage maybe it was like a tornado and would be better to start in, go towards the damage is what your mother always told you.

You’d managed to get into one of the hospital buildings in the abandoned village, there were three around the site but the first two were too boarded up to even try to break into, meaning something was locked inside that no one wanted to get out, this hospital was around half a mile away from the chemical plant which was still leaking out the ooze that started this mess, everyone important in the world was taken deep underground where the top governments had been preparing for something like this to happen, which meant no one was bothered about the chemical leak because everyone who was anyone was already in a safe place, they were waiting it out until the zombies ended everything around them and the important ones could start again.

“Keep out,” You scoffed at the signs on the hospital door, you used some bolt cutters you kept in a backpack and opened the door, inside was a cafeteria area, stocked full of rotting food, flies flying around it and creating the most gruesome smell you’d ever smelt, you groaned walking further into the back finding a working freezer, a jackpot because inside were different cans of food, enough to feed you for at least five months before you would have to go on another run or until you had to move on again, you didn’t want to stay in one place too long. You were staying nearby in an old treehouse in someone’s old garden, whoever had lived their had young kids, it was packed full of old teddy bears, pillows and blankets which was good for you but you couldn’t help but feel bad for the family who had to leave everything they owned behind, the treehouse was accessible through a thin ladder which you pulled up once inside, the zombies weren’t smart enough to work ladders or door handles but it was better to be safe than sorry.

You’d been in the hospital all day and it was starting to get dark out, you didn’t want to risk going back to the house in the dark, zombies were unpredictable enough during the day they’d always been good at hiding, sure they groaned but they didn’t constantly do it, it was only when they could smell humans or were starving, you knew you could stay in the hospital but you wanted to get to the highest point of it, just in case anyone else managed to come into the hospital and wanted to start a fight, you knew how people could get in these situations, everyone was crazy, you’d met someone who was just on a killing spree for the fun of it, the apocalypse made everyone unpredictable.

While you waited for the night to pass you went through your bag, you’d managed to get enough food to live off for a while, as well as some first aid supplies you were running low on, back at the treehouse, you didn’t get hurt much but you didn’t want to be short or anything, anything could happen after all.

“Are you alive?” You groaned moving away from whoever’s voice it was and opened your eyes to see a man dressed in black jeans and a brown shirt which was folded up to his elbows, he was carrying a gun and had two pistols also attached to his belt. You looked out of the nearby window and saw it was bright out meaning you’d made it through the night in one piece without being attacked or found by zombies, your eyes travelled back to the man once again.

“Yeah, I’m alive.” You said getting up on your feet and looking around, his shirt was covered in blood, some of the ooze and mud, he’d clearly been out for a while because he had a small cut on his cheekbone, looked like he’d scraped it along a wall somewhere, you picked up your bag and looked at him, he was staring at you and it was now you took in his appearance, he had to be the most handsome man you’d ever seen, even before the apocalypse, he looked as though he belonged with the important ones.

“Good, we should get going before this place gets packed by zombies, I saw a herd coming this way.” You stared at the man before you and he smiled at you, God even his smile was perfect, he noticed you staring and his ears began to turn a little red so you looked at the ground instead.

“We?” You quizzed, walking behind him as you both made your way out of the hospital building through a set of stairs.

“Well…I didn’t think you would want to be alone.” You scoffed at his ignorance, just because you were alone, you couldn’t manage? You’d gotten this far hadn’t you? You looked around the corner in front of you, in case any zombies had managed to make their way inside like he’d said but it was clear.

“I can look after myself I don’t need anyone.” You said taking out the machete you carried around with you instead of a gun, a gun drew too much attention everyone knew that a machete was silent.

“So thanks for the offer and all but I’m fine.” You said, not wanting to sound mean but you didn’t want to risk getting close to someone only to lose them again, especially someone that good looking it could be bad news, someone that good looking wasn’t just nice for being nice, you knew you had to be careful on who to trust in this day and age. So you left without another word to him, sprinting towards a convenience store that was nearby

He followed you in silence, wanting to watch how you worked your way through the small city, he watched as you broke down the front door to the convenience store in almost silence, the only noise being made was the wooden panel hitting the floor beside you, he smiled you were good at what you did which meant you obviously did this a lot and were used to this type of situation, he wanted to keep an eye on you, having someone like you could be good for supply runs.

How hard could it be to find some pads you thought as you went down another empty aisle, it was practically all empty except some old out of date fruits, you grumbled lightly kicking a shelf but it caused another to fall and crash against the floor, it was like an alarm system for nearby zombies, a few of them coming through the door you’d opened and another coming from behind another shelving unit, grumbling at you, you took your machete ready to start hitting them, you knew to aim for the head and not to stop until they were gone for good, but there was ten of them and only one of you.

“Down!” You heard someone scream, you looked over the shoulder of one of the zombies, you spotted the same man from the hospital and dropped down onto the floor, laying flat against your stomach as the man from the hospital began spraying bullets out, hitting some of them in the legs, them hitting the floor was your cue to hit them in the head while they were down, he had incredible aim which was fantastic.

“I don’t need anyone,” The guy mocked, helping you stand to your feet and smiling at you, you smiled back ignoring the mocking tone he’d given you and wiped the zombie blood from your face, holding out your hand for him to shake.

“Y/N.” You said, he took your hand and shook it

“Jin.” You were looking at him again, the way his jaw looked sharp enough to sharpen knives upon it and how his eyes were sparkling, even in the dull light of the darkness of the store, the only thing really lightening up the area was the sunlight peeking through the window.

“I have a base nearby, you should come with me. It’s safer there than anywhere else.” He spoke to you, you blinked at him for a second before thinking of all the things you had left at the treehouse.

“I have supplies in a treehouse nearby.” You spoke, trying not to seem nervous in his presence, you figured they could be useful to him somehow.

“Is there anything personal with them?” He questioned meeting your gaze, you shook your head and he looked over his shoulder as if telling the time by looking at the sun.

“It’s about a three-hour walk from here to our base, I’m sure you’ll be fine without the small bits, we have clothes and such at the base you can have.” You nodded in agreement not wanting to argue with someone you had just met and who had just saved your life.

“Let’s get going then.”

The walk was filled with conversation, you were trying to get to know each other better, well you were trying to find out if he was a secret serial killer and was planning on killing you, you found out he was one of the important ones, meant to go into hiding but refused because he wanted to help people above ground by trying to stop the zombies.

“That explains it then…” You said with a small laugh behind your voice, he stared at you as he helped you climb over a fence.

“Explains what?” He questioned as he joined you on the other side taking the bag you’d been holding for him.

“You’re too good looking to be one of the normals.” You blurted out without thinking, he chuckled, a deep red blush on his cheeks, you were blushing as well from the comment you’d said.

You’d talked for most of the way about who he was before the apocalypse, he was in some kind of band with his friends who were also staying behind to help others,

“What about you? What did you do?” He questioned looking at you as you rounded another corner, the sun was starting to set which meant you were almost at his safe place.

“I was just an office clerk.” You laughed nervously, you hadn’t thought about your old life for a long time, it wasn’t something that many people wanted to talk about, you would just push forward and ignore the past, what good was looking back on it? Nothing could be done about it now, nothing could change it.

You told him why you were so hesitant about going with him, you explained what happened to the first group of people you were with and how uneasy it made you around new people, it made him laugh when you mentioned about thinking he was a serial killer, his laugh made you smile instantly, it was so warm and bubbly, but he explained how he understood, he didn’t think he would make it through without his friends by his side.

“Here we are,” Jin said you looked up from the ground to see a giant brick wall, he walked over to some metal gates and hit a code on a nearby pad, the gates sprung into action and opened up.

“Welcome,” Jin said as he walked you through your eyes didn’t know where to look first, everything was so different from the outside world, there were houses that were fully built, none of them was rotting away, missing windows or shot up, they were beautifully kept, the gates shutting snapped your attention away and then you looked at a giant tower next to the gates, someone was standing on top looking out over the view,

“That’s Namjoon, second in command,” Jin spoke, walking you down a large pathway further into the village, that’s what it had to be, it had to be classed as a village, it had homes in rows, a small farming area, another building with “Hospital.” written upon it, there was more but you couldn’t see it all at once.

“We started building the giant brick fence when the spill happened, it took seven of us, about a year to make progress but others began joining in, in the end, we ended up with this.” He was walking over to a blue house, you stared around, in front of the house was a small little farming area, growing different produce.

“We all have a job here, I’m a runner along with Taehyung and Jugkook, we go out once or twice a week on the look for others to come home with us and for supplies…I was on a medical run when I found you.” He stated, walking with you towards the hospital building and greeting an older looking lady with a hug, handing her a bag full of bandages, you took your bag off your shoulder and handed over the supplies you’d swiped from the hospital.

“We’ll talk to Namjoon later but I feel pretty confident in you being a runner with me, you seem like you’ve been doing well and I have been looking for a running buddy,” You nodded following him over to a set of houses, eight of them all in a row and he pointed at a white one.

“You can stay there, it has 4 bedrooms but we don’t have overcrowding so you’ll be alone for a while until more come if that’s alright?” You nodded along, still unable to form words.

“I know it’s a little much, but I promise you’ll get used to it, you should go wash up, Yoongi will be starting meals soon.” You frowned a little confused by who Yoongi was,

“Yoongi?” He walked with you onto the porch of the house you were going to be living in and opened the front door.

“The main chief of the camp, there is also Hoseok, he’s the main gardener here, likes to make sure we have enough food.”

A month had passed and you were having a wonderful time, you’d taken up gardening to help grow some fruits and vegetables when you weren’t out on runs with Jin, you went out together twice a week on the hunt for mostly medical supplies and canned food, but the village was pretty much stocked full all the time, enough to feed everyone more than five times over. When you weren’t gardening Jin would steal you away to teach you how to shoot, he wanted you to get used to carrying a gun around, yes it was louder but it was easier than trying to slay a bunch of zombies with a small machete.

You could still remember the first lesson you had with him, you were more nervous about him being so close to you, then you were to shoot the gun;

His arms were wrapped around you, you were standing so close you could practically hear his heartbeat, he gently rubbed your arm because you seemed nervous.

“You’ll do great, it’s just practice.” He put your arms in the right position and aimed the gun, his head close to your neck as he looked down the barrel of the gun to make sure the aim was right, you felt his breath against your skin and it sent shivers up and down your spine.

You hit the target on your own and began jumping up and down excitedly.

“I did it!” You yelled putting the safety back on and making sure it was fine, Jin was just as excited as he stood behind you, without a second thought you threw your arms around his neck, and he instantly linked his arms around your waist, maybe it was the adrenaline you were experiencing but you didn’t care the embrace felt like the world had stopped on its axis, there was no time, no wind, no other person in the village, no zombies, your mind was at ease. How could one hug be like this? He stroked your hair as you stayed together, the feeling of being this close to another human being made you happy, it made yo both happy and craving more, but neither of you spoke about it, you pulled away and acting as though it was an exchange of pure joy between two old friends.

“I should go help Yoongi cook,” You lied rushing off leaving a stunned Jin behind in the field alone.

But it was time to go on another run now, you’d had many lessons since the hug but none of them had ended the same was the first one had, you and Jin were going to find a hospital again, you were hoping to stock on some painkillers, Jin had been complaining of headaches and so had Namjoon, and since they were in charge you didn’t expect anything less, they were under an intense amount of stress a lot of the time.

“Jin I want a quick and easy run, no detours, right there and right back,” Namjoon ordered as the gates opened up, Jin laughed pulling you out of the gates and into the streets, Namjoon was being a little overprotective over a run that had happened previously, someone had gotten hurt and it had shaken the entire camp up a little.

“You didn’t even let me get breakfast.” You whined to him as you walked in a new direction, they’d found a hospital closer to the chemical plant and Jin insisted on exploring it with you, which meant leaving earlier than usual to get there. It was 4 am and the sun was barely starting to rise.

“I had Yoongi make us something for lunch.” He laughed as you dramatically rubbed your stomach as if it was empty trying to act more dramatic.

“You’re such a baby!” He yelled poking your cheeks and taking your hand in his and pulling you along, you felt heat rush to your cheeks at the small action and looked at him, his ears were red which meant he was also blushing, you pushed your arm into his playfully and let go of his hand, rushing ahead towards some shops and looking around. Things with Jin were nice, it was easy to get along with, he was like an old friend and you found yourself telling him anything and everything, it felt like having a best friend, it was nice to spend time with someone and not feel like it was the end of the world, but at the same time, you still felt a little uneasy around him, since the hug you’d not been 100%. All he had to do was look at you and you would turn into a blushing mess, he made your heart skip a beat, small things like holding your hand, hugging you or even complementing you platonically, like friends would normally do only it made your heart flutter.

“This hospital is insane.” You whispered to Jin as you walked up to another flight of stairs, you’d been walking for four hours when you finally found it, the place looked like no one had been inside in years, nothing inside was boarded up, drawers were still stocked full of supplies. The only sign that it was abandoned was that the wallpaper was starting to peel off at the walls and some of the parts of the ceiling were starting to leak

“I guess people are too scared to get this close,” Jin said from behind you, it was true, people you’d run with before didn’t want to get this close in case anything could happen, you glanced at him for confirmation before opening up the door in front of you, you were on another floor full of rooms.

“Split up?” You questioned him, he nodded and walked down one end of the hall and you went in the opposite.

You found an operating room, stocked high with different medicines, needles, and other first-aid items, you just packed everything into the backpack you carried with you, you entered the next room finding painkillers and headache relief, you made sure to fit in everything you could before going to find Jin again.

“Jin?” You whispered going down to his end of the hall, a door creaked open and you looked inside to see nothing around, you walked further inside to see Jin on the ground, your heart began racing, you failed to breathe, it was as if someone was choking you, all you wanted to do upon seeing laying there was curl up into a ball and cry but you knew you couldn’t do that, you shut the door behind you and walked over to his body, to check him over for anything that could have happened.

“Jin? Jin, wake up.” You pleaded, tears springing to your eyes, you cleared your throat trying to find something to indicate why he was on the ground, but there was nothing, no blood, no scratches, no bite on his skin that was visible

“Jin seriously…You promised you wouldn’t die on me.” You whimpered out, he did, he’d promised you on the first run together nothing would happen to either of you and you didn’t have to worry about it. You let a tear run down your cheek, ready to leave him when he grabbed your wrist tightly, you let out a shriek and slapped him across the face, backing away and leaning against a wall.

“JIN!” You screamed at him, throwing a nearby box at his head, missing by a lot, he began laughing uncontrollably, it started as a small silent laugh but he slowly began laughing harder and harder even clapping a little at your reaction, normally you adored his laugh but this time you wanted to crawl into the corner and cry about it.

“I hate you.” You mumbled getting up from the floor and looking around the room for something to distract you from him, he was still laughing when he stood up on his feet, coming up behind you and trying to get you to talk to him.

“You’re evil Seokjin.” You said folding your arms across your chest and trying to act a little mad but it was hard because he looked so sad, he was giving you puppy dog eyes so you would you talk to him.

“You almost cried.” He said, you pushed away from him and over to the door ready to leave but it was stuck, you frowned trying to pull on it a little harder.

“It’s stuck.” You said, trying to push it and then pull but it was as if someone had jammed you inside, or something was blocking it from opening.

“Nice try,” You stood back raising an eyebrow as he tried to move the door as well, you began laughing as soon as he failed to do it as well.

“This is your fault.” You said coming over at trying to pull it some more but it wasn’t budging.

“Mine?” He yelled playfully at you, looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

“If you hadn’t scared me by pretending to be dead we wouldn’t be stuck!” You yelled at him, giving up and sitting against the door.

“Why were you so upset in the first place?” He joked but you ignored him and he felt bad because tears sprung to your eyes once again, he turned away from you taking out the emergency radio and getting it ready to phone home.

“I’ll radio Taehyung and get them to save us.”

“We’re going to have to get comfortable, Namjoon won’t let them out until morning,” Jin said coming over to you, you were sitting in front of the door staring at it as if that was going to magically be able to open the door for you.

“We still have some food left from our lunch.” He said coming down to sit next to you, he took out some containers from his bag and offered you some but you weren’t hungry, he laid down a blanket he’d carried in his bag so that you would both be comfortable for the night.

“Come on, you can’t still be mad at me.” He teased poking your cheek but you folded your arms across your chest and kept your eyes forward, trying not to cry in front of him, the thought of him being gone made your heartbreak

“I’m not.” You whispered you couldn’t be mad at him, he thought it would just be a joke, he didn’t know it would practically break your heart seeing him like that, but now you had seen him that way you realised your feelings for him were strong and weren’t going to go away any time soon, maybe it would be good to stay away from him for a while, to make the feelings go away, stop being around him so much all of the time.

“Maybe I should stop coming on runs.” You blurted out to him, his attention was pulled away from the food and he stared at you,

“It was just a joke, I didn’t think it would hurt you so much.” He continued rambling on but you were ignoring him, drowning it out, you just stared at his lips as he spoke, wishing they were on yours, wishing his hands were around you.

“It’s not the joke Jin…I just don’t think it’s a good idea.” You managed to say while he paused for a breath.

“Why?” You looked up at his eyes, he was tearing up now, something you didn’t expect.

“I just- I don’t think I should be out here…It’s-” You couldn’t lie to him, it was hard to lie to Jin, he’d taken you in and cared for you for so long, it was hard to lie to someone you had liked for so long.

“I just can’t stop thinking about you.” You admitted.

“After the day in the field, your arms around me, being that close to you, it made me realise I like you…then just now…seeing you like that…gone. I just don’t think I should be around you anymore, It’s clear you don’t feel the same way I do.” An awkward silence filled the air, then the sound of metal hitting a concrete floor. His lips were slammed onto yours, it nearly knocked you over onto your back, you didn’t even have a second to react before he pressed his tongue along your bottom lip, you allowed him access. It was a sloppy kiss but it as full of passion on both sides, your arms reached up and tangled into his hair tugging a little, letting out a giggle as he groaned into the kiss. His hands made their way down to your waist, he pulled you close and against his chest, his other hand running through your hair.

You both pulled away and stared at one another, you were straddling him now and he smiled up at you, pushing a strand of hair out of your face so he could look at you better.

“I’ve been wanting to do that the moment you hugged me.” He stated leaning up and giving you a small peck on the lips, you blushed bending down and connecting your lips once again.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since the moment you saved my life.” You admitted the next second your back was against the floor, your arms were pinned above your head and he was leaning down to kiss you once again, you didn’t care that you were stuck in the hospital now, you had Jin to keep you entertained all night, Tae and Jungkook could take as long as they wanted coming to rescue you.

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kokobussy · 4 years

Text

neon.

pairing: yoongi x reader, mentions of jin x reader

warning: general smut, bareback, brief cockwarming, cheating, oral sex

summary: Yoongi has loved you for ten very very long years, every part of you, and he’s kept it to himself all of this time.

inspiration: neon by yukika, and i’m here by kim kyung hee

10 years.

Min Yoongi has been in love with you for 10 long years. He’s loved you through your awful 20’s where the world was cruel and unkind to the both of you. He’s loved you through your saddest moments, where you didn’t think you could make it through another night of pain. He’s loved you during every one of your experimental phases so far, like that one time you tried to cut your own bangs or when he thought he could DIY platinum blonde hair on a budget. Instead, at the sight of your uneven bangs and Yoongi’s damaged remnants of hair, the two of you decided to shave it all off in solidarity; or that other time where you swore keeping a pet snail was a good idea. While neither of you still really don’t know what happened to her, you could only assume the snail ran away, never to be seen or heard from again. Yoongi has loved you through reckless nights where you consumed as much pizza and cheesy ramen as you could or got permanent ink scarred into your skin, despite your lactose intolerance and frowning bank account.

He’s loved you through graduate school and the constant questioning of if you were doing the “right” thing, if all of this was really meant to be your path and if not then what was? He’s loved you through all of the unpredictable and turbulent events life has thrown, an attempt on life’s part to try and make you ugly and bitter. Thanks to family, friends, and Yoongi, you weren’t ugly and bitter and neither was he; for that much he was grateful.

In short, Yoongi has loved you for ten very very long years, every part of you, and he’s kept it to himself all of this time.

He’s never been good with feelings. He’s never really ever been good at expressing himself fully or saying what’s on his mind. Often enough his words, half-formed and barely thought out, end up hurting people more than actually resolving situations. Words are...difficult. They’re intricate and mischievous, pulling the rug from underneath your feet when you think you’ve got it right, and they never seem to be enough. Despite the intimate moments the two of you have shared over the years, delicate scenes that if one squinted could seem romantic to anyone, like the long walks around Namsan Park where you held hands and told each other secrets or visiting the Spring Flower Festival in Yeouido and cuddling against each other, Yoongi could never find the right words to say to describe how he felt for you.

At the same time, as much as he wanted to tell you, he didn’t want to tell you. He’s your rock, the one you go to whenever life swallows you into an unending stormy sea, and you’re his whenever he feels like he might drown. Yoongi didn’t want any of that to change. He didn’t want your friendship fading out because of his feelings. The two of you were always there for each other in a way that Yoongi could never find in other relationships, platonically or otherwise.

Sure, you’ve had partners because of Yoongi’s cowardice, but he couldn’t be angry or upset. Without speaking to you about it, how could you know how he felt? Yoongi had partners to quell the pain and upset boiling inside of him, but relationships born out of spite never lasted long; especially when those partners eventually found out the reasons for Yoongi’s inattention.

Because the two of you depended on each other for just about everything, neither of your relationships ever really went well. Yoongi would be more than eager to drop just about everything for you if you needed him. He’d leave in the middle of dates with a series of excuses if you were going through a tough time. He would even cancel plans last minute just to help you with a paper or provide moral support for a job interview gone horribly wrong. You, in turn, were no better. You went out of your way to spend as much time as you could with Yoongi outside of part-time jobs and school. You’d plan elaborate gifts and celebrations that paled in comparison to what you provided for your partners at the time. You threw birthday parties speckled in green with green cupcakes to match just to see Yoongi’s gummy smile. You bought his first mixtape and did whatever you could to get people to listen. You threw a party when that promotion eventually turned into a contract with a record label, still filled with the same green cupcakes that Yoongi loved. You bought him reminders of memories the two of you have had, like the cowboy hat mug or the pomegranate painting you made yourself. You drew him mementos of your time together, like the Spring Flower Festival memories you made or a piece inspired by his songs. You gave him all these things even when you barely remembered your partners’ birthdays and he barely remembered his own anniversary dates.

Looking back on it now, Yoongi wishes he was strong enough to say something; strong enough to create healthy boundaries so you weren’t so dependent on each other all of the time. So he could deal with this in a normal way and finally get over you.

Yoongi remembers the day, the hour, the minute you told him. It was in the middle of a museum with carefully curated artwork that didn’t really matter to him.

All that mattered was that it mattered to you.

Usually he would sit there with you for hours while you sketched emotions and patterns that he couldn’t really understand. At first, it all seemed like fake deep art to him, but gradually his opinion changed. After explanation upon explanation and passion alighting in your eyes as you spoke, Yoongi learned to love it. Maybe not as much as you, but it was enough.

Although these visits were usually filled with a lonely silence that accompanied watching someone work, Yoongi didn’t mind. He didn’t mind because of the fact that he could watch you here without it being too weird. He could watch you swell with inspiration and creativity that blossomed so violently and passionately that he could only stare on in awe.

It was during one of these visits that you told him. You told him so suddenly, so abruptly, that Yoongi briefly spiraled into anger, a vicious thing that reeked of green. That anger that had built so quickly, dissipated just as fast when he saw how happy you were. You were practically glowing in the streams of autumn sunlight coming through the large window panes.

So Yoongi smiled.

He smiled so hard that the corners of his mouth ached. He smiled so hard that his face felt stuck even when he pulled you into his arms and spun you around in celebration. He smiled some more when he hugged you to him for a while; hugged you as tight as he could without hurting you, just so you wouldn’t be able to see the tears that started welling up in his eyes.

After three long years, you were finally getting married to Seokjin, and Yoongi’s happy for you. Really.

In fact, he’s so happy that he’s out at a bar tonight with a few good friends of his, drinking his sorrows away and trying to bury them in some 27-year-old bear with something to prove.

Despite its tragic origin, the night has been going relatively well so far. It was Hoseok that decided a night on the town would get Yoongi’s mind off of this. Off of you. It wasn’t that Yoongi had been a wreck since you told him, but he was...well a wreck. Yoongi didn’t sleep much. He went wedding dress shopping along with your other friends and family and helped his close friend, Seokjin, write his wedding vows. Seokjin has been Yoongi’s childhood friend for 15 years. He’s known you for 11 years. You and Seokjin met at one of his green birthday parties on his 26th birthday. Because of these friendships with both of you, Yoongi has been in the middle of the wedding and assisting both of you with everything that either of you needed. The only people who supported Yoongi through this was Taehyung and Hoseok. Taehyung who readily agreed to the outing and, with Hoseok right at his side, dragged Yoongi out of his sad messy apartment to King, a local gay bar.

Together they grabbed drinks, danced, and toasted to new beginnings. As much as Yoongi didn’t want to view it as an end, as a life-changing moment, it seemed the rest of his friends wanted to. This was the somehow “end” of your single life and the birth of your married life as if the two weren’t one and the same. After a few shots of vodka, Taehyung wandered off with a twunk and hadn’t been seen since. The only thing he left Hoseok and Yoongi with was a text that had an okay, eggplant, and street emoji for context.

On the other hand, Hoseok surprisingly remains at the bar with Yoongi, quietly sipping a beer and trying to make his dearest friend laugh. Sure everything hurts, but it isn’t the end of the world. Yoongi laughs along with some of Hoseok’s jokes and tries his hardest to enjoy the time his friends dedicated to him. Just like he got over being bald for a few months and getting an ear infection from a “piercer” in your old college apartment during a rager, Yoongi will get over this too.

After it’s all said and done, everything will go back to normal because...it’ll have to. Because there won’t be any hope left. Eventually Yoongi will find closure and a love that will be entirely reciprocated. He’ll be able to spend all of his energy and adoration on someone who was able to accept and return it.

Now that you’re gone, he thinks, I’ll really have to find someone.

A voice just above his ear brings him back to the here and now, “Something wrong?”

Yoongi blinks back to the present, away from painful memories and missed chances, and looks up at the man that’s been trying to flirt with him all night. There’s nothing wrong with him. He’s incredibly handsome with a hot dad bod to match, but he’s not you. He doesn’t have the comfort that you bring or the glint in your eye just before you say something so incredibly horrid, but funny that Yoongi can’t help but laugh at. It has nothing to do with the physicality of it all; nothing to do with men versus women and so on. It is only that Yoongi’s heart is thoroughly taken by you. “M’ fine,” he says with a smile, lifting up his glass to drink the remnants of a cheap whiskey sour with far too much ice, “Just had a little too much to drink.”

The Bear laughs accordingly, not really caring about what Yoongi’s actually saying, and pulls at the belt loop in Yoongi’s jeans to force the two of them closer. Yoongi welcomes the touch, welcomes the desire that he sees in the Bear’s eyes, and leans against him entirely. This man’s touch, no matter how horny it is, distracts his aching heart; helps him run away from his chaotic feelings and frustrations. “Hopefully not too much,” the Bear says into his ear, nipping at the lobe. As this handsome stranger whispers filthy promises into Yoongi’s ear, whispers of pounding his ass into the mattress and bending him in half, Yoongi thinks he can do this.

He can give himself up to the universe and have a good time without thought or consequence. Although the timing is right, although there’s a condom or two in his wallet, although he thoroughly prepped just a few hours before leaving the bar, there’s something holding him back. A feeling that tells him he shouldn’t run off with this guy, not right now, not when something more important is about to happen. But Yoongi promptly ignores the feeling and is just about to kiss away his doubts and fears when he catches a glint of light on the Bear’s leather jacket.

Something makes Yoongi look down at his phone on the counter to see exactly why the screen is lighting up just as he’s about to get lucky. He finds a familiar number glaring back at him, with poop emojis to match. It’s not an ex-boyfriend, ex-girlfriend, or ex-partner calling to plead for him to take another chance at their disastrous relationship — which surprisingly has happened far too many times — it’s you of all people.

The sight of your name has Yoongi pulling away from the man in front of him and disappearing to a dimly lit bathroom in the far corner of the bar. He barely manages to answer before it goes to voicemail, clamoring into the red-lit men’s room and staring at the thoroughly soaked sink in front of him. Despite the way he’s starting to slightly sober up as the pain returns, thoughts of your wedding on his mind again, Yoongi is happy to hear your voice.

“Hello?”

“Hey, where are you?”

It should be a simple enough inquiry, but it isn’t. While you’ve always been a night owl, you should be getting as much rest as you can. After all, you do have a busy day ahead of you. By now you should be asleep and wrapped in a series of blankets, but you’re not. Yoongi, having a big part in the wedding, should also be resting, but instead, he’s out with his friends and vaguely picking up on the whimpers in a stall to his left. What clues him in to the fact that something might be wrong is the tick in your voice.

It’s a tick he’s heard, pointed out, and fixed plenty of times. A tick that lets him know that you may not be doing too well. You hide your emotions just like Yoongi does, behind vague words and false reassurances. After years of knowing you though, Yoongi can always tell when you’re upset. That tick, that foreign accretion in your voice, mimics a performance that you can’t fully commit to. Maybe to someone like Seokjin or Hoseok, it might take a while to pick up on, but Yoongi has it down to a science.

That tick allows Yoongi to keep the conversation moving from small talk to jokes as he prepares himself for the cold January night he’s about to embrace.

“I’m at King right now with Tae and Hobi. Is everything okay?”

“Oh! You’re out right now?” How you don’t hear the grunts and moans steadily increasing in volume is a mystery to him. Why Yoongi didn’t simply go outside is also a mystery to him. “Don’t worry about it,” you continue, seemingly unaware, “You better not be late!”

“No, no,” Yoongi says hurriedly, a glimmer of small hope rising in his chest at the idea of seeing you, “Where are you?”

Yoongi’s already running his fingers through his disheveled and club influenced exterior. He fixes the wild mess his black hair has become, buttons up his shirt a bit, and tries to hopelessly and unsuccessfully take off the eyeliner Taehyung insisted on him wearing. But after a few minutes of fussing, he gives up entirely. It’s good enough for the night he’s been having and he doubts that you’ll even notice or care what he looks like anyway. Although he’s trying to have a conversation, the sound of skin hitting skin and moaning only grows as, Yoongi hopes, someone cums. He really should’ve just stepped outside.

“Yoongi it’s no big deal, really. Have a good time,” you insist, “and make sure you’re not late for my wedding, asshole. It’s like 1 am! Promise me you won’t get home too late.” Yoongi stares into the mirror, rolling his eyes at a pathetic mewl that leaves the stall, and makes up his mind right then and there, “Yeah I promise.”

As soon as his phone beeps, Yoongi rushes out of the bathroom to the bar where Hoseok has just started to talk to the Bear about a basketball game unironically. “What’s going on,” Hoseok asks, taking in Yoongi’s now neat appearance as Yoongi’s coat is taken off his shoulders and returned to its owner’s.

Yoongi pulls his arms through the trench coat in record time, wrapping the scarf that was buried in its massive pockets around his neck. As Yoongi settles his tab, Taehyung appears at Hoseok’s side, positively glowing post-coitus. “Had a nice time?” Yoongi asks, smiling when Taehyung curls around him all spent and happy. The puppy simply nods, looking over at the Bear who watches the two of them curiously. “What’s happening,” Hoseok asks, more demands, as the pair look at him, “Why are you leaving?”

“You’re leaving?” Taehyung and the Bear ask in unison, both with equally sad pouts on their faces.

“Nothing and yeah,” Yoongi answers hurriedly, signing his receipt and trying to do math in order to leave a decent tip, “it’s just—”

“Y/N?” Hoseok finishes, looking almost bored.

When they make eye contact, Hoseok’s gaze isn’t accusatory or upset, it’s filled with a tangible worry that has always been there since Yoongi revealed his feelings for you to him in confidence.

For a moment Yoongi thinks of all the talks and arguments they’ve ever had about you. They were mostly about how Yoongi should do something. How he should step up and say how he feels rather than sitting on the sidelines and remaining emotionally constipated. Even if it didn’t work out, at least you would know and Yoongi would be free.

“It’s not good for you,” Hoseok would say, “you deserve better.”

Looking at him now, Yoongi can tell that Hoseok isn’t mad at him at all. He’s just disappointed and honestly, Yoongi would rather have an angry Hoseok than a disappointed one. While he appreciates every bit of his friends’ concern and while he definitely needed to talk about boundaries, Yoongi needs to get to you. “I’m sorry,” is all Yoongi can offer, kissing Taehyung’s temple, “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

Even though Hoseok huffs and mumbles something snide under his breath, he still leans into the hug Yoongi gives him and Tae and the Bear who had somehow become a part of the whole thing. Then Yoongi is off and rushing down the streets of Yongsan-gu the one sanctuary the two of you have always had. It’s the only place you could be.

It’s a shitty hole in the wall.

As long as you’ve been coming here, the owner hasn’t changed or updated more than she’s had to. It’s small, crowded, and the entire place smells like heady broth, but it’s been a home for you since college. You never knew the name, and still don’t, because the owner refused to give it one. The only thing you had to go by was landmarks whenever you went to the shop and the feeling of familiarity and home that guided you. What makes this place home is the fact that it never changes. No matter how many scars you gathered from bumping into things or tripping in your life; no matter how many times you cried your eyes out when you dealt with your family even from abroad; no matter how many days went by that could only be accounted for by feeling and glimpses of events; this place never changes.

Yoongi is another thing that hasn’t changed in all the time that you’ve known him. Despite the trials and tribulations, the unending struggles he’s had to go through, Yoongi has remained your ever-present and diligent friend and you’re incredibly thankful for him.

There’s a flash of movement by the door, faster than the people walking by on the street. You can see Yoongi come to a stop from presumably running, leaning on his knees and heaving out of breath. He wipes sweat that probably isn’t there and waves off the people who gawk at him on the sidewalk and ask if he’s okay. Although you told him not to come, a small part of you knew that he would anyway. He’d come without even knowing what’s actually going on with you. It makes your heart swell, makes you giggle at the sight of him waving off a few stragglers, but it also makes your heart ache. Yoongi shouldn’t have to drop everything for you. He shouldn’t have left his plans to make sure you were okay. Of course, you’re happy to see him, but you’re also sad you ruined his night. You manage to compose yourself, looking back into your empty bowl, just in time for Yoongi to get himself together and come through the door.

All signs of exhaustion fall from his face when he sees you sitting at the bar in your usual spot. “What are you doing here,” you grin, pretending to be surprised. Yoongi sits beside you and greets the owner, an ajumma, with a slight nod and a big smile. She leans over to pinch his cheek, smiling at the way he winces, before going to prepare his usual order.

For a while the two of you sit there in silence, listening to the clanging of pots and shuffle of shoes as Ajumma cooks in the back. Even though you ruined his night out, having Yoongi be here with you in this moment steadily begins to calm you down. He’s always been able to do this; to help you relax even when everything seemed to collapse around you. You can only hope that he feels the same way around you too. “So,” Yoongi pipes up, leaning against the counter to get a good view of you, “why the hell are you up right now? You’re getting married in like 3 hours.” It’s actually 9 and a half hours, but who’s counting? When you flinch at the question, Yoongi’s smile quickly fades. He wracks his brain for any number of problems that could’ve occurred to make this much of an impact on your big day. Jin’s too rich for it to be money, too carefree for it to be something you wanted but didn’t get, and too traditional for any outrageous plans to go entirely wrong. Jin wanted two simple weddings, one traditional in Korea and the other traditional according to your home country. You had readily agreed to the idea so what could possibly be wrong?

But before he can ask any more questions, Yoongi can see the tears welling up in your eyes as you ask, “What if I’m making a mistake?”

If Yoongi was a weaker man, he’d say yes. He’d say you’re making a mistake because you could have him instead. You could be with someone who cares for you deeply and knows you inside and out. You could be with someone who doesn’t cringe when he has to buy you tampons or makes fun of you when you go on one of your famous pointillism rants. You could be with someone who doesn’t complain when you grab at their jacket and demand physical affection or who always forgets why you naturally lean to the side when you’re trying to see without your glasses on. You could be with someone who doesn’t point out the way you eat nearly everything with your hands and always end up with sauce on your shirt. You could be with someone who quells your worries easily without much effort. You could be with him.

Yoongi would say all of these things if he didn’t care about whether or not it’s the right thing to do, but Yoongi isn’t a weak man. He’s a strong man, who cares about you more than anything or anyone, and he’ll do anything to make you happy.

“You love Jin so much, Y/N,” Yoongi says, sighing a bit like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “You’re just scared and it’s okay to be scared. I think you’re just getting cold feet.”

You should never be afraid to be with the one you marry forever. It should be a joyous occasion, something that you celebrate and joyously scream to tell everyone over. It’s something that should make you cry from happiness and not fear, but he doesn’t say that and neither does Ajumma who drops your respective bowls in front of you and heads back into the kitchen.

When you don’t respond right away, your eyes lost in the swirling heat of your kalguksu, Yoongi tries again and swallows the lump forming in his throat as he goes. “You said yes for a reason. You’re just second-guessing yourself which happens to people all the time.”

Then why am I so scared, you want to ask, then why do I feel like this is the worst mistake I could ever make?

You nod along with Yoongi’s words anyway and try to will away this foreboding feeling that fills your bones. You’ll be married in 8 hours now to the supposed love of your life and maybe 8 hours from now the nerves will disappear altogether.

The two of you eat three heaping bowls of noodles each in silence before leaving Ajumma a hefty top and bidding her farewell. By the time you begin walking home, Yongsan-gu’s crowds have begun thinning out greatly for a Friday night. There are stretches where people are scarce, where no one is really around, and it feels like it’s just the two of you in the entirety of Seoul. Yoongi comes up with ridiculous jokes just to make you laugh and maybe hams up his performance for that little ugly snort he knows you’re capable of making. He tries to ignore the way you hang onto his arm as you both walk to the bus stop; tries to ignore the way it makes his heart flutter when you look at him with each red crosswalk.

But this time, just as you can see the bus stop in the distance, his eyes find yours when he feels them once again on his person. You don’t refrain from looking or pretend like you hadn’t been the entire time. Your eyes stay there, trained on him as if deciding something for yourself that Yoongi can’t see.

When you arrive at the stop, it seems you’ve made your decision. “Remember my apartment,” you ask, still looking at Yoongi. Of course, he does. How could he forget?

With all of the wedding planning and general chaos that came with booking multiple appointments, cleaning out your apartment had somehow slipped through the cracks. The two of you have been working on moving your things out bit by bit, packing up or throwing away memories to move into Jin’s big condo. Jin had helped you move here and there, but it was really Yoongi who did a bulk of the work. Jin had fancy businessman meetings to attend to with fancy co-workers while you and Yoongi had more...freelance work that could be done anywhere at any time.

Although movers did most of the heavy lifting, you still had to pack the small things and say goodbye to your old life. After being there all week, why would he suddenly forget? “Duh,” is all he responds with, waiting for you to get to the point. “Can we stay there tonight?”

It’s a stupid idea.

You were just worried about him late a few hours ago and now you’re risking throwing your 50k wedding out of the window for a sleepover. You could be late for pictures or miss the ride over from morning traffic or any number of things that could greatly impact your big day. Although these concerns swim through his head, Yoongi sees the desperation lurking in your eyes, the absolute need for an escape, and he realizes he could never deny you. “Don’t blame me if you’re late,” he shrugs, a smile breaking out when you grin, “and you’re paying for the Uber.”

The ride to your apartment is uneventful and silent as tension fills the small car. Yoongi isn’t sure what you’re quietly pondering as you watch the scenery change on your way to Mapo-gu, but he knows better than to pry. After 20 minutes of silence, the two of you arrive at your old building. You both find your way upstairs, all the way to the 7th floor, and head into apartment 708 in that same silence from Ajumma’s shop.

Of course your apartment is empty. The once familiar space, filled with knickknacks and various posters, is now hollow. After 10 years of living here, the only thing that remains now is the ugly mustard couch you won in an arm-wrestling match with a neighbor and the cheap red blanket Yoongi won at a fair for you that sits on top of it. Although you’re proud of the story of the couch, used it as a talking point for guests whenever they came to your apartment, you ended up giving it away to the next tenant. The couch faces the window with neon purple lights reflecting off of its strange color. Your heavy boots echo off the walls, amplifying just how woefully empty this space is, as you follow the couch’s line of vision to the window.

When you first moved in, your landlord swore it was the best view in the entire complex, but the only thing that took up most of that view was a giant purple neon sign for fortune-telling. The sign was simple in nature. It had a vulnerable palm, a crystal ball with a question mark in the middle, moons and stars, and a script that said “Destiny Awaits”.

At first, it made for good aesthetic Instagram pictures and a comforting landmark to stare at during fights with exes, but eventually it became a nuisance. Its purple gaze stared into your apartment and never left you in the complete darkness you desired now that you couldn’t have it. Whether it was day or night, the sign was on and blaring, even when no one was there. Occasionally you’d go by the small shop and ask for the light to be turned off, but it was never open when you went. Then you realized you hadn’t really seen anyone venture in or out of the space. Soon you complained about its invasiveness, its unending lights, and it bothered you to no end. Even now, your apartment is alight with its purple haze.

It wasn’t until you’d lived there for a few years that you actually managed to get inside of the place.

You’d just come back from a rambunctious night with Yoongi, Hoseok, Taehyung, and a few other friends. You and Yoongi walked hand-in-hand, trying to guide each other back to your apartment with drunken giggly steps. As you walked by the building that was the source of your complaining, for the first time in three years you saw the lights were on inside and people were sitting there, muted and transfixed on its decorations.

It didn’t take much to convince Yoongi to come inside with you. The only thing that bent him towards your will was the promise of takeout the minute you arrived at your apartment. You approached the counter where a young woman sat, popping gum between her lips and scrolling through a feed that disappeared the minute you walked up. She looked annoyed as you pondered what the best service would be for you and Yoongi, but didn’t say much. By minute five, she was tired of you and picked a service before holding out her hand for the money. You gave her cash, waited for the change, and once she gave it, the woman returned to her feed without so much as a goodbye.

So there the two of you sat, whisper-yelling inside jokes and staring at the artifacts that covered the shop. The place smelled of incense and spirits, an old musky scent that lived within the seats of the waiting room. The rug beneath your feet was old, frayed like many people had walked through at some point in time. As Yoongi checked his phone and you viewed your surroundings, you noticed the patrons hadn’t really looked at each other. They held almost entirely still except for the occasional blink or their eyes moving from one object to the next. It was eerie, creepy even, and made you stir uncomfortably in your seat.

When the time finally came, you were itching to leave. Most of the patrons had gone only to be replaced by more lost souls that wandered in. “Number 14 & 15,” a voice had called from the back. You and Yoongi looked around for a moment until you made eye contact with the woman at the counter who had begun to stare, unamused. Her eyes widened in exasperation, gesturing to your signed copy of the receipt. When you looked down at your own receipt, now crumbled in your hand, and unfolded it, you found the bold numbers 14, 15.

You don’t remember everything the fortune-teller said or how exactly he said it. What you do remember is the fortune-teller predicting sad-endings for the both of you.

He said that you and Yoongi would always be entwined, but you’d always cause each other great pain. He said that you should be honest with each other and that you should tell the truth. Or something like that.

You hadn’t really listened because it didn’t make sense. As far as you were concerned, the two of you were always honest with each other. You missed the panic in Yoongi’s eyes at hearing those words, the way he quickly sobered up at being called out by a random stranger because you were distracted by the fortune-teller’s pointed stare. By the time you made your way out of the small shop, Yoongi’s hand no longer holding yours, the encounter had already been forgotten. At least by you.

As a couple stumbles on the street, breaking up your thoughts, you can hear the raised voices of an argument. There isn’t any real way to know what they’re talking about besides opening the window, but you refrain. Instead you turn around to find Yoongi leaning back against the couch and checking his phone. It’s then that you realize you’ll never have nights like that again.

Random late nights where anything is possible and the entire world is your oyster.

You hate change.

You hate everything about it and yet here you are, throwing your life violently forward without any preparation. But you were prepared weren’t you?

You had a few years with Jin. A few years to clue you in on the fact that this day was going to come eventually, but you thought you’d have more time. You hate being scared; hate the feeling of being unsure and confused. Although your mind is in turmoil you can’t help but think, why didn’t you just stop the entire thing? Life doesn’t end when you get married so why does the idea of marrying Jin upset you so much so suddenly?

Looking at Yoongi now, as he taps through petty text messages from Hoseok, you come into his space and slowly take off his glasses. Yoongi stares up at you, eyebrows bunched in confusion, but says nothing. You envision him 10 years younger. You envision a time where it was only the two of you in this tiny space; a time where tiny succulents and feminist literature filled this tiny space; a time where things were different and life was filled with unpredictable potential no matter the pains that came with it.

Although you’re staring at the ghost of a famous singer instead of a big-shot producer, although he is staring at an art therapist instead of a famous illustrator, Yoongi is still Yoongi and you are still you. That much is certain. As you say goodbye to old dreams and memories, you can feel the moisture of vulnerability and fear streaming down your face.

The only thing that’s familiar in this moment, that calms and grounds you, isn’t your old couch or apartment, it’s Yoongi himself.

The touch of Yoongi’s hand as he fingers curl around your wrist, his worried gaze never leaving your eyes, and his ever-present faith in you no matter what you do. Your legs feel shaky as you take him in, stumbling a bit in front of him. Yoongi shoots up from his seat with raised hands and prepares for a fall that never comes. It’s tempting to give in; to close your eyes and succumb to whatever feeling has brought you up to this point. From the open streets of Mapo-g and the small space of the cab ride to the slow elevator and the inside of your old living room to standing here in front of Yoongi and asking for things, you’re not quite ready for. As Yoongi stands and envelopes you in a soft and comforting embrace, your fear begins to subside, and any worries or negative thoughts that plagued your mind disappear.

So the two of you stand there in the middle of your old apartment, holding onto each other like for comfort on both sides. The air seems to still when you pull away and stare into each other’s eyes. Soon the comings and goings of late-night traffic and the arguing couple who’ve begun to scream at each other seem to disappear. Everything around you, inside the apartment and outside, seems to be frozen in time. The only thing that seems to remain unaffected is the purple sign outside.

While the idea of everything coming to an abrupt stop should be scary, it’s actually a relief. It’s something that you’ve been longing for all night, but suddenly now have. In this frozen moment, anything is possible. You’re capable of anything and no one in the world can judge you for it because like the cars, the traffic lights, the arguing couple, they are also frozen.

You feel stuck under his gaze, closer than you’ve ever been in the past 10 years. Not physically. No, there have been times where the two of you have fallen asleep together or bumped into each other or even simply held each other in fear of something greater out there.

You’ve never been honest.

There’s something here, between the two of you, that makes you curious. Something that you’ve noticed occasionally, but could never have the courage to stare at outright; like a speck floating to and fro in the very corner of your eye. Staring into his eyes now, you see a passion and a pain that’s never been there before. At least you’ve never noticed it. You see something that he can’t have; something that pains him to see. It hurts you. You hurt seeing that hurt and everything in you wants to will it away. Yoongi doesn’t deserve that. He deserves everything in the world and if you could, you’d give it to him.

With this closeness, you can see the way his eyes linger on your lips. You can see the way they hover there for a time before making their way up to your eyes. Everything feels right between the two of you like you’re meant to be here in this moment together. You’ve never felt safer.

It’s only when your lips part, briefly sticking together in the mess of chapstick and balm, that you realize you kissed. Although this revelation hits you so hard that your heart nearly stops, you reunite with him once more. Yoongi kisses you like a man dying of thirst, desperately holding onto you like a lifeline, as if he’ll float away without you.

When the two of you pull away, pressing your foreheads against each other, a strange sense of relief comes over you. You smile at the feeling of his hands clinging to your waist. You smile at the wet teary sound of Yoongi whispering, “I love you.” You smile because all this time some part of you always knew. The way your heart flutters whenever you see him. The way you can’t stop smiling at the mention of his name. The way your eyes always seem to gravitate towards each other naturally. You’ve always felt some sort of affection for him. Right now you don’t know whether it’s love or a simple infatuation. All you know is that you don’t want to stop kissing Yoongi. You don’t want him to stop holding you or grabbing at your coat.

With 10 years of fantasizing about this very moment, about holding you in his arms and kissing like the way actors do on movie screens, Yoongi wants to kiss your skin, every inch that he can find, and suck those dark brownish-purple marks into you. He’ll have to work for it sure, it’s not like hickies show up easily on brown skin, but it’ll be worth it.

It’s then that Yoongi realizes he can’t mark you up. He can’t own you fully nor can you own him, the way you both want to. No matter your decisions today, you’re still engaged to be married. You and Jin belong to each other in a way that leaves no room for Yoongi. He would always be on the outside looking in, even if he continued to be as close as he is now.

As Yoongi’s lips make a burning hungry path from your lips to your neck, your coat slides off your shoulders and onto the floor in a pool of black wool. You palm him through his pants, letting off a small moan at the feel of him hardening underneath your touch. You lift your arms all too easily when Yoongi’s fingers curl around the ripples in your shirt. He pulls it from its sanctuary in your pants and finds your lips again. Even though his own morality or lack thereof distracts him, Yoongi’s hands still seize your breasts the second they’re exposed to cold air. You let out a small whimper as he toys with your nipples, pulling and twisting at them until you’re nearly writhing in his arms. With the slight duck of his head, he pulls one nipple into his mouth and teases the other with the bluntness of his index finger. You must’ve run out of Jin’s apartment on a whim and sent a text, short and sweet, about visiting an old friend at an even older noodle shop.

A thick wave of heat comes over Yoongi at the thought of you rushing here to see him; to embrace him. Even though he knows that you really sought his company in need of emotional support, he can’t help but indulge the feeling. The way your body comes naturally to him without any awkwardness or hesitation; the way your fingers flex as they grab onto his shirt; the way you close your eyes in pleasure while announcing your delight to Yoongi over and over; it makes Yoongi’s cock throb right in his jeans. It makes his cock yearn for the wet heat your voice promises if he continues. It makes his cock twitch in anticipation of what you could possibly feel like wrapped around him. While he tongues at your chest, his teeth bite and lick a hard and unyielding nipple into submission. You hold onto his arms to keep yourself steady, head tilting in ecstasy as the assault on your chest continues, and moan louder. You moan loud and often enough that Yoongi begins to build a pattern against both of your nipples, switching off when the other felt too lonely. Yoongi continues until you’re squirming. Until you can nearly cum from the effort he’s putting into your chest alone, but then he suddenly stops.

He turns away from your bust, finally giving you a break, and moves on to press kisses all over your torso. Yoongi begins to savor every inch of your brown skin, breathing in the scent of you. As much as he wants to explore, you push his head down gently until he falls to his knees. It’s there, on his knees, that Yoongi begins pulling and undoing your belt buckle to get at you. You hold onto his shoulders now for balance, still panting and dizzy with pleasure, and wiggle out of your pants when the time comes.

You come to a halt when a pair of faded yellow polka dot underwear come into view. It’s not like you were expecting to have a late-night rendezvous with your college best friend tonight or ever. There is a hole in the garment, specifically on your right cheek, and there are still some remnants of lace on the edges. You’re just about ready to turn away from the embarrassment of it all, but then you remember who you’re with right now. You’re with Yoongi. Yoongi who knows you inside and out. Yoongi who probably couldn’t care less about the underwear you’re wearing. Sure enough, despite your initial horror and upset at your choice of underwear, Yoongi ignores the atrocity altogether and leans in to kiss the small stretch marks around your hips. The same stretch marks that you complained about Jin not liking years before. The same stretch marks that led you and Yoongi to rub coconut, almond, castor, and olive oils onto your thighs in a span of two weeks. It took a combination of him and your other friends swearing that there’s nothing wrong with them for you to finally settle down. Yoongi distinctly remembers that it wasn’t Jin who comforted you nor did he say much when you’d panicked about the marks. So Yoongi kisses them out of spite and nips a larger one to draw a moan out of you as if that will get back at Jin’s ignorance in some way.

Yoongi hurriedly pulls your underwear off your hips and, with the help of you shifting slightly, tosses the pair away from the two of you. Looking down at him now, staring at the tuft of hair on your mound, you wonder how many times he’s imagined this; how many times Yoongi has pictured this exact moment where he would taste you for the first time

He couldn’t have possibly pictured it’d be here, in the tomb of your college days, or that you’d be wearing a ring that weighs heavily on your hand in the stasis of this moment. Yoongi grabs your leg and hauls it over his shoulder, guiding your trepid hand to his hair for something closer to hold onto, before diving into his late-night snack. His tongue meets your slit without hesitation as he begins to devour you whole.

The tip of his tongue outlines your pussy with careful strokes. The firm appendage flickers against your labia, teasing the sensitive tissues there, before exploring the rest of you. You whimper pathetically as you watch him, core clenching on nothing when he looks up at you. Little bundles of pleasure wash over you as Yoongi tastes you for the first tongue, tongue briefly sliding into your core and wiggling. Then his tongue flattens against you and his hands press into your hips to move forward. Your fingers curl around his black tresses as you begin to grind against his tongue, chasing the butterflies of pleasure that kiss your stomach with each movement of your hips. As you find yourself getting lost in the feeling of Yoongi’s consistent and heavy tongue, you feel a gentle prodding at your hole. A finger glides its way into your heat without any resistance. “Yoongi,” you whimper, squeezing those tresses in your hands, “more.” After his lips wrap around your clit like a vice, another finger finds its way alongside the initial one. There is no warning when you feel those two fingers bend slightly and whisper come hither against your walls to that fleshy bundle inside of you. All you feel is the fluttering of your stomach, the heated gasps of air as Yoongi eats you until your leg shakes with effort. He eats at you until you’re gushing around his fingers; until the burning of his hands on you becomes too much; until you’re cumming with a cry on his tongue.

You shake as Yoongi slips his fingers out carefully, licking every last drop and leaving thankful kisses wherever he can. Although when he pulls away he looks a mess, hair in disarray and exhaustive red kissing his cheeks, he’s the happiest person that’s ever been between your legs. When you see a hint of a smile as he looks up at you, you pull him up instantly and kiss him hard. He nearly falls over with your effort, a huffy laugh dances across your mouth. As your tongue glides across his lower lip and into his mouth, all you can taste is your cum and a taste that’s purely Yoongi.

“Wait,” you pant, eager to keep the sloppy kiss going but clearly distracted, “wait...you didn’t...” is all you offer before you’re dropping to your knees.

Your actions mirror his, undressing him as hurriedly as you can so you can get on with it. Yoongi can’t help but think about how beautiful you are right now, even when you’re marveling at just how hard he is in his jeans. He could’ve kept going, kept tasting you forever, but you seem to have other ideas. In an attempt to assist, Yoongi kicks off his shoes and motions over to yours. It takes you a second to realize that your boots are indeed hindering you and they soon come off with a bit of effort. With your speed, he’s just as bare as you are, save for his shirt and a pair of socks. Your eyes can’t look away from his cock no matter how much you want them to. The rigid length is just as pale as he is with a pink hue on his engorged tip. His balls hang heavily, begging to be touched and caressed. If one looked too fast, in a hurry to experience pleasure, they would miss the mole at the base of his cock. They would miss the way Yoongi’s breathing changes under the admiration; the way he gasps when you sweetly kiss the head of his cock. His cock is beautiful.

Yoongi’s head falls back when you begin licking at his length, slowly but surely taking it into your mouth. He goes to run his fingers through your hair, but then he remembers. He remembers all the times you’ve talked about the intricacies of your curly hair; all the times you insisted he couldn’t touch it or mess it up. So instead he palms the back of your head, hoping that this is okay, and doesn’t force you down on him any harder or faster than you’re willing to go. His hips thrust shallowly on instinct, but he allows you to pick up your own tempo; to swallow him on your own time. It isn’t long before you’re picking up speed and bobbing your head at a steady rhythm, drawing noises of pleasure from him. Yoongi finds himself far more willing to watch you seek pleasure from him than him taking it from you.

When you pull off of his cock to tongue shyly at his balls, Yoongi can see the bright purple of neon lights reflecting off of your skin. He moans at the foreign feeling of your tongue flicking against him and tries to palm at your head a little harder. As you pull away to look up at him, tugging at his cock to keep him going, Yoongi swears he can see the purple words “destiny” reflecting in your brown eyes. From this angle, it seems impossible, but before he can really get a good look the words are gone. He’s never forgotten about visiting that place with you, the fortune-telling shop that’s seemingly never open. He’s never forgotten about enduring the old man’s warnings regarding being truthful to each other. In the end, the old man was right.

There’s no way that this will ever be a normal relationship, no matter which path either of you chooses. Whether you and Yoongi made something work, consequently canceling the wedding, or if it all faded to pieces, you marrying Jin anyway, your relationship has now been forever changed.

The shitty thing is, Yoongi can’t make himself care. Yoongi is selfish and mean and cruel and deserves all the horrible things that have happened in his 30 years of life, but he doesn’t care. All of those things led to this moment; led to being with you and being held by you right now. He’d do it again, a thousand times over if that meant that he’d get to experience this night again. This would probably be the first and last time the two of you could be united in this way.

Before he realizes it, your mouth finds his length again. Yoongi gets lost in the feeling of your tongue caressing any part of your cock that you can reach, from a prominent vein or two to his slit. Your fingers reach behind him, a little cold, and roll his balls in your hand with care. The attention has his knees buckling and stomach rolling in waves. It’s beginning to be too much, he can feel the end drawing very near and he’s nowhere near ready. It’s when you lap wetly at his tip and when you give a slightly hard pull to his balls, that Yoongi can’t take it anymore. He pushes your head away gently causing you to drop your hand and move from him, confusion all over your features. In a flurry of movement, Yoongi sits down on the couch and spreads his legs, slowly jerking his cock in his hand as he watches you kneel. “C’mere,” he whispers, biting his lip.

“No way,” you answer, face entirely serious, “I’m not coming over there.”

Yoongi’s hand stills, his eyes open wide, as he tries to assess what could’ve made you upset. “W-what?”

“I’m not coming over there until you take your socks off, Yoongi. That’s weird.”

When you break out into a smile, laughter following along soon after, only then does Yoongi laugh. After his socks are removed, you briefly stand to settle into his lap. Your arms come around his neck as the two of you adjust, eyes meeting for a moment. The two of you maintain that contact as you slowly sink down and take everything Yoongi has to offer. It’s enough to fill you, to keep you satisfied, and that’s what really matters. From this angle, his cock reaches deep enough inside of you and comfortably stays there as his hands settle on your hips, encouraging them to move against him slowly. As you go along with his guidance and soon begin to form a steady cadence of your own, Yoongi wraps his arms around your middle and kisses you with as much passion as he can muster. You moan against his lips, let out a soft cry that he swallows, and try your hardest to kiss back with the same amount of love. No matter how much you try, it simply can’t be matched.

Instead, you increase the speed of your hips, bucking faster against him, to break away from this breathless kiss and pull Yoongi down to your chest. He follows your hands, leaning down slightly to pull and bite a nipple into his mouth as his hips meet your downward strokes. In almost no time, your cries bounce off of the empty walls of your apartment as you hold onto Yoongi for dear life. While you should be embarrassed at the volume, shy of your old neighbors who could definitely hear you, all you can think about is Yoongi’s hips picking up your slack as you reach euphoria.

You can feel his cock sliding against you. You can feel the weight of it against your g-spot. You can feel Yoongi pull away from your nipple and switch to another. You can feel the rising tide of unspeakable pleasure in your stomach. As Yoongi begins to pound into you as best as he can in this position, your nipple falling out of his mouth consequently, you can hear whispers of “I love you”s that you don’t and can’t return. You bury your face into Yoongi’s neck as you keep moaning and crying and chasing that wave. As his hips begin to slow, that wave begins to recede and your orgasm unwillingly dials back. At first, annoyance fills every fiber of your being, especially when Yoongi nudges you with his shoulder so that you pull away, but when you look at him fully you’re mesmerized. While he continues at a newly slowed pace, Yoongi himself appears serious.

You can see the look of resignation, of acceptance, that you can’t entirely understand or place. You can also plainly see the love in eyes, the adoration, and pleasure that lies within them; love that you’re not sure you can return. Yoongi makes sure to remember every inch of your face, all of your moans and the way your lips feel against his. He wants to make this last. He doesn’t want to face the horror, the rejection, the ultimate separation that you’ll both tunnel towards after this moment. As he claims your lips, Yoongi pulls out entirely, ignoring your whimpers and pleading. He maneuvers you to lie down on the couch before repositioning himself between your legs once more. From this position, you can see Yoongi’s eyebrows furrow in concentration as he slides his length back into you, grunting a bit at the feeling.

When you look at him, you can see a look of resignation, of acceptance that you can’t entirely understand or place. You can also plainly see the love in eyes, the adoration, and pleasure that lies within them; love that you’re not sure you can return. “I love you,” Yoongi says, as if reading your mind, “I’ve always loved you.” He leans down to give you a chaste kiss before his hips set a fast pace. The sudden speed and harshness have you clawing at his back in desperation, your previously subdued orgasm coming back with a vengeance. You moan filthily into his mouth, moan louder when he pulls away to pant into your neck. That wave rises again, faster and stronger than before, leaving you entirely helpless. Your back aches, your toes curl, as your hips try to keep up with his. Eventually, the two of you find a sort of rhythm, a steady give and take that has you both crying out in unison. The sounds of your love-making seem deafening now in the empty space, the sound of skin on skin ricocheting off of the walls. “I’ll always love you,” he grunts out, grabbing at your tight curls and pulling; you’re too lost in pleasure to complain, too far gone to yell at him for touching your hair. It’s when his hot breath hits your ear that you realize his words have the after taste of a promise. He promises that he’ll always love you, no matter what the future holds for the two of you. When Yoongi pulls away slightly, your sweaty foreheads together come together for the last time, closing your eyes tightly to focus on his unrelenting pace.

All you can see is purple as your orgasm crashes over you like a tsunami. Your body jerks at the warm splash of Yoongi painting your walls white, your moans mingling together again. When he’s finally spent and rested, he collapses on top of you in a tired heap. Well not entirely. Yoongi remains on top of you and slightly shakes with effort as he tries not to crush you under his weight. “Lay down,” you mumble, reaching up to run your fingers through his sweaty hair. Yoongi hesitates and instead moves to the side to nestle into you. After more maneuvering, the two of you rest comfortably on your sides. It’s you who pulls the ugly blanket down from its place on the couch and places it over the both of you. It’s you who continues to stroke Yoongi’s hair as he begins to fall asleep, cock still buried in the warmth of your silky walls.

As you both rest, time begins to catch up with the two of you. People begin to walk the streets and call loudly at or for each other. Cars honk and screech to a halt at changing traffic lights. The street lamps flicker briefly before continuing their nightly patrol. Everything seems to go back to normal except the two of you.

“Thank you,” you whisper suddenly, hips slightly wiggling at the feeling of cum sitting in you. When Yoongi wakes up from his half-asleep haze and looks up at you, you aren’t looking at him though. You’re looking at the sign outside, eyes filled with the overbearing nature of realization and muted acceptance. He grasps your chin, turning you towards him, and places one last kiss on your lips.

The kiss seems to last ages and Yoongi finds himself getting lost in your embrace once more. It’s Yoongi who pulls away and sees the far-off pained look in your eyes that you’re trying to hide and actively failing at. It’s Yoongi who falls asleep first on your chest, relishing in the feel of your fingers scratching at his scalp.

It’s only Yoongi who wakes up alone the next morning without any good morning text from you and a series of demanding texts from Hoseok asking why he’s late. It’s only Yoongi who arrives hurriedly to the venue, at 8:47 am, just in time to take a few pictures alongside Jin and his other groomsmen. Jin taunts him for being late while Hoseok looks on concerned, but Yoongi is too busy looking for you. It’s only Yoongi who stands at the altar behind Jin and Hoseok and Namjoon, waiting patiently for any sort of signal that the wedding is off; even if it’s a frantic guest explaining that you simply can’t go through with the whole thing.

It’s only Yoongi who is shocked, hurt, and confused when he sees you walking down the aisle looking as beautiful as ever with Taehyung at your side in lieu of parents, your wedding dress fitting you perfectly. It’s only Yoongi who has to smile for the quick pictures the photographer takes, has to pretend that last night never happened, as the crowd cheers when you and Jin say, “I do.” It’s only Yoongi who’s always loved and always will love you. You could never love him the same way.

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