#thank u for asking me about jh i love it so much it is such a good game | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

taelme · 2 years

Text

enchanted

genre: regency!au (with some tweaks ofc), (not so)enemies-to-lovers!au, viscount!Jaehyun (kind of slowburn, hurt/comfort elements?, angst? mutual pining, reader is an oldest daughter guys) pairing/s: Jaehyun / Reader (ft Yuta, Johnny & other ocs)

word count: 23k+ (guys. be fr its me we’re talking abt here) tw: reader and jh both have a tense rs w their parents? brief mentions of a parent’s death (not reader/jh’s), reader doesn’t exactly look after herself very well, lmk if I missed out on anything! summary: in a world where marriage is nothing more than an economic proposition, and where a person is no more than what they can offer, you and Jaehyun rediscover what it means to be with each other, in the very essence of the word

a/n: this is really funny cause... so far the fics i have for my ‘tswift for the neos’ discourse are all johnjae.... life is like that, i guess. anyway. 3rd installment! this was a LONG time coming and i rly hope u guys enjoy it! took me a while to get back into the rhythm of writing so thank u all for bearing w my radio silence HAHHA this is based off of enchanted and gold rush (and any other easter eggs you find hehe- i’d love to hear if it reminds u of other tswift songs), reblogs are VERY appreciated!! happy reading loveys~ read this on ao3

You ached for rest. Not the kind that sleep guaranteed, no. This rest you ached for felt much deeper, much further from reach. Much like a stranger you wished to know.

“Do you remember what we discussed?”

Each inhale of yours didn’t seem to satisfy the ache in your chest, feeling as though your ribs were caving in, unsure if it was anxiety or the carriage or your clothing that was making you taste your last meal, and even that seemed like it was ages ago.

“Your posture,” the whisper of your mother brought some of your awareness back to the question she’d asked.

What did you discuss?

You tried to dismiss the impending feeling of doom that grew stronger as you noticed your surroundings, the carriage all of a sudden seeming to be moving too quickly, your grip on your gloves tightening as you tried to recall what your mother was trying to remind you of.

Right.

Be obedient. The carriage rounded the corner, jolting you from the familiar bump in the road. Don’t immediately launch into literary discourses out of panic. Your mother took your gloves out of your weak grip, slipping them onto your hands with an assertiveness that shoved you further into your seat, resisting the urge to shiver at the feeling of her cold hands on your skin. Have good manners. You could now recognise the music echoing from the building, a piece you were sure you’d heard your sister play before. Mind your facial expression. Along with the sound of music, the chatter and giggles intensified. Don’t scribble funny names onto your dance card. You thought about your little sister at home, probably sitting by the window reading a book from your father’s library as she waited for you to return home. You thought about your father who was in his study doing God knows what. As if like a trigger, a wave of clarity washed over you; you’d suddenly felt unfortunately sober.

Find a marriage partner.

“There will be many eligible suitors present. After all, it’s the first ball of the season,” she spoke, more for herself than for you.

You were treating this like a game of sorts, anything to make the process feel more distant from you. You needed to go in, find someone who had status, money and could offer protection to your family, and play your part to see it through for the rest of your life. Sure, it could be seen as a game. A very long, tedious game.

“Right,” you swallowed, still feeling as though you could hurl at any given moment, though your mother would’ve never sensed your inner turmoil. You’d become somewhat of an expert at masking it. Perhaps it was all the times you heard your parents telling you to ‘use your words’; you’d become all-too-familiar with manipulating them as you pleased.

The carriage came to an abrupt halt, your mother already preparing to alight as you followed behind her. Taking in a deep breath of (rather fresh smelling) air, you wondered momentarily if that was all you needed, feeling much better than you did in the carriage as you followed your mother up to the entrance of the ball.

You’d barely paid attention to your name and your mother’s being announced to the room upon your entrance, hyper aware of the attendees and trying your best to suppress your discomfort, hoping you could somehow mentally dissuade them from approaching you for a dance, though you knew you would never let yourself allow that. You had more pressing issues at hand.

Your relief from the fresh air was short lived. A stocky middle aged man who, according to your mother, owned an extravagant amount of land and had just gotten out of his second marriage, actively looking for a third.

Masking your discomfort, once again, you’d complied when the man had asked for a dance (though it wasn’t like you had a choice, your dance card bare as ever). Though you didn’t remember what you talked about as you danced, you were too focused on counting your steps to distract from his lack of teeth and the damp warmth that sank into your clothes where his hand was placed.

“Do you do much sewing?”

“A fair amount,” you grunted, feeling out of breath from supporting his weight with how much he was leaning into you while dancing. Sewing surely didn’t give you enough strength for this.

“That is good. It would help to dedicate yourself to such productive activities. You could contribute much more to the household with that, compared to all the folly of reading or academic learning. Unnecessary, in my opinion, when I am more than sufficiently equipped in that area.”

You couldn’t help your blank stare, hoping your tired sigh wasn’t obvious as you nodded with a hum.

“Is that so?”

The man let out a grunt, seeming to think you were speaking sarcastically, “A woman like you should use your beauty to your advantage. It is your crowning glory.”

You forced out a smile, telling yourself to take his words as flattery even though you were desperate for this dance to end.

The truth of the matter was this: you were made to do all sorts of things at the start of your day, things that were considered ‘productive’ and would aid in attracting a husband. Needlework, dancing, singing, drawing… but when the afternoon came around you were free to do your other ‘less productive’ activities.

You chose reading, naps and the occasional letter writing. These pastimes were the only form of rest you were accustomed to, though you would always end up somewhat unsatisfied, feeling as though these forms of resting didn’t satisfy the desire for rest. Perhaps it was like a writer trying to find the right word for a situation and ending up settling for one with the most similarity—it still wasn’t the right word, but there was always a thought that perhaps you were looking for one with an entirely different meaning.

Sewing? You found it all too troublesome and required all the patience that you didn’t have, leaving it for those few hours in the morning that were dedicated to building up your ‘accomplishments’. But were you proficient at it? To answer simply, you were proficient to the extent that you felt it was necessary to attract a marriage partner.

Your promise to your mother not to write random names on your dance card was growing less and less serious with each forced smile you let out to acknowledge the man’s strong beliefs.

It was by your (you weren’t sure, actually, it seemed as though you’d danced more this night than in your entire lifetime) dance that you were starting to feel lightheaded, stepping aside to find your mother for a drink. It was as your dance partner led you back to your mother that your eyes couldn’t seem to help themselves, constantly glancing at the dance card hanging from your wrist, the empty spaces and the little pencil dangling from it simply calling out to you to put them to good use.

You only had about four spaces left on your card— thank goodness for that, you didn’t think you’d be able to last any longer. Your fingers fiddled with the little pencil as you walked, careful to keep your fidgeting out of sight, overhearing giggles and murmurs about a certain viscount that was rumoured to be attending tonight’s ball.

Viscount Jung? You almost scoffed at the way they seemed as if they were talking about the Queen. Whoever he was, it was absolutely tempting you, the offer of his name that was as easily tossed around as it could be written down on your silly card.

“He’s gorgeous , you’ll have to take my word for it. Beautiful features and physique. I saw him once when he came to my estate for a meeting with my husband. He’s an architect, and a very skilled one at that.”

You purse your lips, already concocting various images in your head of what he looked like. Tall? Amicable? Perhaps he had a nice smile, you always found that to be rather charming. Perhaps his movements were slow yet precise, his moves carrying the same kind of regal elegance of the buildings he designed.

“Well, I would think he has potential marriage partners lining up for him if that’s the case, hmm?” you heard, almost nodding in agreement.

As you scanned the room, you pursed your lips at the mental image you got of how any of these girls would behave if the tall, handsome architect you pictured in your brain were to show any attempt of courting them. Maybe not even to the extent of courting… perhaps just a passing glance, a brush of his hand against yours, to feel his imposing presence just like a Midas touch as he walked past.

You let yourself wonder, just for a moment, if he would ask to be introduced to you, if you would find his personality charming while you danced, if he would take a liking to you and engage in more than just superficial conversation on your accomplishments, how you would feel to be at the receiving end of attention that was not unwanted for once.

Though it was short lived, your mind had taken the liberty of playing the rest of the sequence of events—your mother’s meddling, heightened tension between you and her because of said meddling—you cut the daydream-turned-nightmare off before you made yourself bitter for no good reason.

You were already getting too invested in this conversation, the image and elaborate backstory you’d created for him in your head. But it wasn’t exactly your fault, there was hardly any real entertainment to be found here. You held your dance card open as much as you could without going noticed, beginning to write the usual names you fell-back on when you grew tired of dancing.

“It’s near impossible to catch his attention, though,” you tuned-in to the conversation between the two mothers from before, “he wouldn’t even spare a glance at anything other than his sketches when he was visiting my home. I’d assume one would have to be nothing short of perfect to even get noticed by someone of his calibre. I can’t imagine he would settle for anything less.”

“Do you think he's coming tonight?”

“I heard he responded with his attendance, but Lord, have mercy on our daughters… I doubt he’d even cast a passing sigh their way,” you heard one of the chaperones sigh, shaking her head.

“What’s his name again?”

You tapped your pencil against the inside of your fingers absently, frustrated at the way your mind was blanking as you tried to recall another name you could use to fill the last empty space in your dance card.

“Viscount Jung Jaehyun.”

You hummed. Jung Jaehyun . You figured it was a safe bet, it wasn’t as if he’d actually ask you to dance.

You worked quickly in scribbling his name, along with many others you usually fell back on, onto the paper. The feeling of pencil against paper had never been as satisfying as it did now as your feet ached, clothes felt uncomfortable against your skin and throat feeling dry as sand.

Unfortunately for you, that victory didn’t seem to last very long.

“My dear, where have you been? I’ve been looking for you,” your mother cooed once you’d reached her, her tone making you feel as though you’d just been cued to say your next line.

You shot her a look, putting on a friendly smile as you greeted the people she was with, a few women you definitely did not recognise and a man with a very charming smile, clothes and jewellery that looked like he definitely lived… comfortably .

You were introduced to this man, addressed as Mr Nakamoto, a young-looking man who was supposedly from a reputable family from overseas, back from his travels around Europe. All of which was unimportant to your mother, of course, who simply hinted that he had money and was looking for a wife, the only things she claimed you should be caring about.

Perhaps that was true. Contrary to how it seemed, you were a lot more targeted in your search for a marriage partner. If you sifted through your mental list of men you’d danced with thus far into the night, your best potential marriage partner was either Mr Nakamoto (from what you were hearing), or the widower Baron who told you your silence was pleasing to him.

“Would you do me the honour of a dance?” He smiled, already extending a hand to reach for your dance card. In your panic, you withdrew your hand just slightly, only having it snatched away again by your mother, whose eyes zeroed in on the newly-added names.

You didn’t have time to react before the woman standing next to her had peered over as well, practically exclaiming with delight, “Oh! The viscount has asked you to dance? How fortunate! You must not dawdle, then.”

Your eyes widened, about to protest with some reason you hadn’t quite thought up yet, using that split second to contemplate the repercussions and how willing you were to deal with them if you were to confess that it was a fake name. That is, until your gaze landed on the man currently being led (or pushed) towards you.

Barely being able to protest before the both of you had been abandoned on the dance floor, the man looking nothing but irritable as he glared at you. You were assuming this was the man who was the centre of all the hushed giggles and gossip of tonight.

The image you had in your head of the mysterious Viscount Jung was almost instantly shattered and made new again, as if the previous image had never existed and this was the only one that could ever exist. How, for some reason, it made sense .

“This would all make sense if you let me explain,” you blurted out, seeing him quirk an eyebrow at you. Even his eyebrows were pretty.

He let out a huff at your expression, wondering how you could still seem so unremorseful after causing him such inconvenience . The last thing Jaehyun wanted here was for people to assume he was actually interested in somebody.

“You owe me an explanation, regardless,” the man’s voice had shocked you.

Deep and smooth, capable of lulling you into a trance if you weren’t already so on edge, even if his tone was curt and dripping with annoyance, “You’ve somehow managed to get the whole room staring at us.”

He let his gaze flicker briefly over the necklace you were wearing, back to your mother who was standing at the side looking on with evident disdain. Delicate looking Amethysts decorating your neck made Jaehyun wonder where you’d gotten them from. He only recalled Rubies to be quite popular among the girls in the other towns, according to his closest friend Johnny.

As if reminded of where you were, you tried to ignore the stares as you reached a hand up to his shoulder, swallowing the gasp that almost escaped at the feeling of his hand going to your back, tensing up visibly as your brain processed the music playing.

He let out a sigh as the both of you began to dance. It would’ve been an amusing sight if you were someone else looking on, both of you clearly not wishing to dance yet being whisked along to the upbeat tempo of the music, executing the dizzying choreography with what could only be described as trained movements.

A hint of a smile graced his features, though it definitely wasn’t directed at you.

“Anytime before my death, please,” he spoke, seeming to find his little joke amusing from the little huff of laughter he struggled to contain.

You scoffed, for some reason not feeling as inclined to offer him the same grace you would your other dance partners. Rolling your shoulders back, you kept your stare steady and refused to look down, lest he think he succeeded in making you feel small.

“That’s not a lot of time,” you quipped back, “Besides, your sour attitude is what will earn you an early death, if anything,” you muttered, audible enough for him to hear.

“Yours isn’t any better, in case you haven’t realised,” he huffed, eyebrows furrowing slightly in disdain.

“You don’t know me,” you huffed.

“And neither do you,” he was quick to reply, earning a sigh from you.

“Look, I wouldn’t be dancing with you if I had a choice,” you scoffed, figuring he was at least mildly offended from the way his eyes seemed to widen just momentarily.

“Oh, but you had a choice in writing my name on your dance card, didn’t you?” He bit back with a sarcastic smile, making you suck in a breath. That was definitely caused by your annoyance, not the dimples on his cheeks that you noticed with his smile.

“Just so we’re clear, I wouldn’t be dancing with someone as ill-mannered and arrogant as you either. Or dancing at all, for that matter. You’ve somehow seemed to spoil both of those outcomes,” he drawled, a wistful sigh that he masked with a soft smile.

Almost like a child, you’d wanted to mutter something about how you weren’t ill-mannered, but you figured what you’d shown him thus far wouldn’t exactly help your case in proving that.

You could hear girls swooning as you passed them.

“And you had the choice to show up to the ball, did you not? What did you think was going to happen here if not dancing? Did you think we’d have a canvas laid out for you to do some drawing?”

You struggled to maintain your gently pleased expression, finding your words to be quite amusing. Judging from the genuine huff of laughter you’d let out, to anyone else you two would’ve seemed to be really hitting it off.

“We could spend the entire night airing out our… grievances ,” he sighed, “but you still haven’t explained how we have ended up like this.”

You closed your eyes just briefly enough to roll them, opening them to see his jaw clenched as he glared at you.

The sigh he breathed out in annoyance succeeded in drawing your attention to your proximity. Only then noticing how differently you felt dancing with him than you did with your previous dance partners who felt as though they would collapse on you at any given moment. Somehow, the viscount felt steadier, making you unconsciously lean into him as you danced. Almost like your body recognised its ability to be dependent in this moment, no matter how minuscule the moment was. Like muscle memory.

Lifting your gaze up to his face, you tried not to let it linger for too long on his lips, their colour reminding you of a rose and hinted at the softness of a rose petal. Feeling the tap of his fingers against your back was what nudged your gaze to his eyes, understanding a little better why the gossip about him usually involved the word ‘beautiful’.

“I might be able to die and resurrect before you start explaining—”

“If I must explain,” you cut him off, earning a huff from him, “I usually write fake names on my dance card because eighteen dances are simply eighteen-too-many bouts of dancing with strange old men. Your name just happened to grace my ears when I was doing so.”

Jaehyun huffed, “And what did you think was going to happen here if not dancing?” He repeated your words back to you with an all-too-smug tone.

You let out a deep sigh, funnily enough, almost stumbling but feeling his hand on your back keep you standing upright.

He did have a point (as annoying as his execution was) but you weren’t going to admit it, of course. It was much more than just ‘dancing’. What happened in these balls could very well determine the future of yourself, your family and your unborn children, as you’ve been so generously reminded time and time again.

It was as if your mother was in your head, telepathically communicating these reminders to you whenever you were on the brink of letting yourself enjoy what you were doing. You had a responsibility to fulfil as the oldest daughter of your family. Him, however? To be able to waltz in here and expect to leave without dancing and know no one would bat an eye?

You huffed, fixing your gaze on the space between his eyebrows just so you could look as though you were deeply attentive.

“Must be nice not having to worry about your future,” you rolled your eyes.

That seemed to have struck a nerve with the Viscount, who frowned slightly at your words, an uncomfortable silence falling between the both of you.

“Was that the real reason you wrote my name down?” he finally spoke. His gaze seemed to truly hold offence now, feeling even more distant from him even though you were standing so close to him. The realisation that he truly was a stranger sinking in deeply, filling you with discomfort.

You didn’t seem to catch on to his implication at first, only realising after you’d recalled what you said to warrant such a reaction from him.

“I’m not after your money,” you told him plainly, seeing his frown grow deeper.

“You expect me to believe you?”

You glared at him, frowning slightly, his expression only mirroring yours.

“It seems I would be better off not expecting anything from you,” you huffed, “but you cannot expect anyone in this room not to be after you for your money. You’re surely smart enough to know that when you step into this room...”

You shook your head, each word seeming more for yourself than for the Viscount, a reminder that even now you were still meant to be playing your long, tedious game.

“... you are no longer viewed as yourself, only your eligibility, how well you’re able to act out your role. And if we were to go by that, I would be dancing with Mr Nakamoto there instead.”

The viscount followed the direction you had gestured in with your head, spotting the man standing next to your mother and chaperone.

“That’s Mr Nakamoto?” The viscount murmured, something almost akin to recognition in the man’s eyes as they met his own. The name seemed to ring a bell with him, though there was still a sense of unfamiliarity in his thoughtful expression. He didn’t think it was the kind of familiarity he would feel from a recent memory. Perhaps he would ask Johnny.

“Yes. Do you know him?”

There was no reply. A part of you was curious, wondering why his silence irked you so much.

At the viscount’s silence, you had only then realised the song was coming to an end. He let go of you as quickly as the song allowed, bowing out of courtesy and leading you to where your mother and Mr Nakamoto were, a certain discomfort in his expression that you could not seem to place, “By all means.”

And just as you said, he’d left the ball right after, no one batting an eye (but almost everyone running their mouths).

Still recovering from your exchange, you fixed your gloves, huffing at no one in particular, seeing Mr Nakamoto direct a rather amused smile towards you.

“Are you feeling alright? I hope dancing with the viscount wasn’t as dizzying as it looked.”

Your eyebrows raised, mustering a polite smile as you shook your head, determined to leave thoughts of the Viscount behind.

“Oh, no. Not at all. Yes, I’m perfectly fine.” Or you hoped to be in a while, at least.

Mr Nakamoto, you discovered over the rest of the evening, was nothing short of a perfect gentleman (going by your sister’s manuals). You struggled to find a flaw (and trust me, you were searching hard for it).

Beneath his extravagant clothes, confident demeanour, good dancing and how well-read he was about topics you could definitely see your father being eager to discuss over meals, you found that he was everything your mother was looking for. But other than the boxes he ticked off of her ‘Ideal son-in-law checklist’, there was nothing that compelled you to grow more acquainted with him. There wasn’t that… spark of attraction you would imagine was a non-negotiable aspect of the romance novels you read and plays you watched. The closest you’d gotten to feeling that tonight was in your sheer annoyance towards the viscount.

Unfortunately for you, there was much longer left for you to endure before you would be able to return home, but Mr Nakamoto’s company proved to be… sufficient.

Mr Nakamoto (whose first name you later heard from your mother was Yuta), kept you busy for the rest of the ball, occupied and mildly entertained with many stories about his travels (most of which you couldn’t differentiate between truth or lie). You would’ve even considered it a plus with how much he was talking, you were free to eat your supper in peace, undisturbed by other men due to Yuta’s riveting tales.

“I haven’t travelled much myself, but whatever you described does sound very lovely,” you would comment once in a while, feeling as though you were talking to the little children you would see at the market. You would smile, nod and coo at their stories without much care if they were reality or fiction. It was almost like an escape from reality, one you welcomed with open arms tonight.

“Do you have any siblings?” he asked suddenly, making you straighten up after a while of quietly enjoying your supper.

“Yes, a younger sister,” you murmured, “she’s not out yet, though.”

Yuta hummed over a mouthful of food, swallowing it with a wince before continuing, “Are you two close?”

You smiled, a small huff leaving you as you shrugged, “Well, yes, I suppose that is one way you could describe it.”

Yuta huffed, smiling as if recalling something (a story you assumed).

“Did I say something amusing?”

Yuta smiled, shaking his head, “No, it just reminded me of these siblings I met while I was in America…” setting off into yet another story about his travels.

Though you really didn’t mind, he was just giving you more stories to tell your sister once you got home.

You were at your wits end when it was time for the ball to be over, feeling as though you’d used up all your energy for the season from just dancing and listening to Yuta’s stories. You’d wanted nothing more than to simply curl into bed and sleep the rest of the week away.

Exchanging greetings as you parted ways, you tried hard to ignore the way your mother was looking at you as you returned to your carriage, head feeling heavy yet still feeling tension in your limbs, unable to fully relax with your mother in the carriage with you.

“He’s a very pleasant man,” she murmured, gaze trained outside the window as if she could see anything other than trees and empty road.

“Who?” you frowned.

“Who else? Mr Nakamoto.”

You let out a deep sigh, the breath you took in not satisfying the breathlessness you felt, nodding.

“He is,” your reply was curt, leaving no room for elaboration, though that didn’t seem to stop your mother.

“I heard from one of the ladies that he’s planning on staying here for a while. Planning to buy the estate near the park. You know, the one with the balcony that overlooks the lake. It’s an expensive property.”

You hummed.

You wanted to be interested, you really did. But the movement of the carriage was starting to make your head pound and you didn’t think you had any energy left in you to pretend to be bothered about whether Yuta’s potential estate overlooked anything .

Deeming your fatigue as a sort of defiance, your mother’s tongue clicked sharply as she shook her head at you.

“How can you be so… “ she scoffed, shaking her head, “need I remind you that you are doing this for the family? You need to start taking ownership of your responsibility in this whole affair.”

You sighed, shifting in your seat and directing your gaze towards her, “I know.”

Though you tried your best to remain respectful with your tone, your irritation got the better of you, “I am taking ownership. Am I not allowed to be tired after a whole night of dancing and socialising?”

“This is not just ‘ dancing and socialising ’. You need to realise the gravity of what just one dance could affect, for your family’s sake.”

Of course you knew that, but it wasn’t as if you could get her to see things from your perspective. She was your mother, and the last time she’d seen from any perspective other than that was before you were born.

You huffed, suppressing the many words you’d wished to have her hear, trying to remind yourself that words were unlikely to get you anywhere near an understanding with her. That would suffice for the night until you slept off your anger.

Nodding in hopes that it would appease her, you focused on your breathing, hoping it would somehow ease your headache that was coming on stronger than you’d wished. Unfortunately for you, you’ve come to learn that your mothers worries were only ever vented through such exchanges with you, though they weren't much of an exchange to begin with.

“Think of your father,” you couldn’t help the wave of discomfort that washed over you at the mention of him, as if you could feel his presence in the carriage at the mere mention of him, domineering and tense.

“He slaved away for his whole life to ensure his daughters could be viewed as respectable ladies in society. It is a privilege to even attend a ball like you just did. And yet you act as if we’re putting you through torture!”

Torture was one label for it; your long, tedious game.

“You are the oldest, you are to set an example for your sister. I do not wish for you to taint her innocence with your… your insolence .”

You nodded, almost wanting to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. With how much they fed her those manuals on what a respectable man and woman should be, how they kept her in the house as much as possible, allowed not even for her to paint because of how it would dirty her clothing, it was a wonder how they thought anything could possibly ‘ taint’ her at all.

Though at the same time, you would be lying if you said you didn’t wish to live as quiet and simple a life as she did, out of the loop of all the burdens and worries that seemed to follow your family for generations, growing more complex with each cycle it made.

“I know,” you stifled your sigh lest she use that as another example of your ‘insolence’, “I’m sorry,” you murmured, a foolproof way of appeasing her you’d come to learn after a lifetime of experience. Whether you meant it was an entirely separate matter.

Your words seemed to have their intended effect, allowing you to sit in the quiet tension of the carriage ride until you felt it come to a stop, hearing the rustling of the footman moving to open the carriage door, exiting with haste that only came with the feeling of a successful escape.

Your sister was quick to meet you in your bedroom as you reached your bedroom, timed with a precision you both knew came with too much time spent at home.

“I didn’t expect you to be awake,” you huffed, earning a shrug from her, a book you recognised to be from your father’s library in her hands, her finger tucked between the pages she stopped at.

“Couldn’t sleep,” she sighed, a dreamy look in her eyes that you supposed held all sorts of hope to hear stories of love and romance, “I suppose I was too excited for you.”

You sighed.

“I hope that was a good sigh,” she inched closer, dog-earing the page she was on and tossing it aside, the book thumping softly on your stool.

She shifted on your bed, making herself comfortable as you changed out of your clothes leaving just your nightgown, glancing at her through her reflection in your standing mirror.

“I hope it was too,” you huffed, allowing yourself to be amused at your own joke, even though you didn’t very well feel like making light of your horrible night.

“How was it? Did anybody catch your eye?”

Your thoughts ran first to the Viscount (and his rosy lips—this wasn’t your fault, really.) It upset you, how he of all people had left a lasting impression on you even though you’d spent hours and hours talking to Mr Nakamoto. It upset you how you just knew that even if you did tell others about his lousy manners or his condescending demeanour, no one would have wanted to believe you, everyone already believed he was what they wanted him to be; a gentleman straight out of one of your sister’s manuals.

“There were… some , I suppose,” you spoke as vaguely as you could, hoping that would be enough to satisfy her (even though you knew it wouldn’t).

“Handsome?” The lilt in her tone was awfully hopeful.

You sighed, turning to her with a knowing look, “Handsomely rich .”

Her mouth fell open, features pulling into a frown, “You know for a fact I didn’t mean money. Were they charming? Attractive?”

“I suppose one of them was… not ugly,” you felt embarrassed saying it, for some reason, as if you could anticipate the viscount’s reaction if he’d heard your words. The way the corner of his lips would curl up in a smirk, tilting his chin up at you with all the arrogance and cockiness in his being.

For some reason, you were afraid to voice out your thoughts on him. Perhaps it was the fault of the little nagging voice that persisted in your head, telling you that it truly didn’t matter if you thought he was physically attractive, because you didn’t stand a chance to begin with. Voicing it out almost seemed like a jinx, a nail in the coffin that forced you to face this reality instead of living in the hope that he could have harboured good feelings towards you too; simply for the pleasure that came with being perceived by someone like him.

You figured now wasn’t the time for you to start getting comfortable with hoping.

Turning to your sister with a shrug, you spoke, “But he had the worst demeanour.”

“I heard a Viscount asked you to dance. It couldn’t have been him, could it?”

Perhaps it was those very manuals that led her to this assumption.

Though it was for her own good, you found yourself not wanting to burst her bubble. She needed to know that it wasn’t about whether they were a Viscount or not, but that the men she would encounter in the marriage market in general weren’t as fairytale-like as they were written out to be. The likelihood of marrying someone you found even mildly attractive was rare. Yet the hope she held was important, precious almost.

Although the growing desire to find a love match was gaining popularity these days, you didn’t consider yourself to have that luxury. It seemed all too indulgent, saved for people who could afford to worry about things like love. Not a lady like you, the eldest daughter of her family carrying her parents’ burden on her weary shoulders.

“Do you think all viscounts are handsome and kind?” you laughed, beginning to undo your hair.

“Don’t know. Never met one before,” she sighed, “which is precisely why I’m asking you. ”

You hummed, “Well, the other man I spent most of the night with wasn’t exactly better. He spent most of the time talking about himself, but I suppose it was good entertainment.”

“So he wasn’t the handsome one?”

“The viscount?” you frowned.

Your sister’s eyes lit up, her smile growing, “So, you think the viscount’s handsome?”

Realising your mistake, you narrowed your eyes at her, “I think it’s best you forget about him.”

Somehow, the words left a bitter taste on your tongue, your sister’s expression of confusion making you feel almost frustrated, “I’m only saying this because I don’t think we’ll be seeing much of him after tonight.”

You made your way over to your bed, getting into bed and shifting to find a comfortable position, your sister still sitting next to you and looking at you with that same thoughtful expression.

“Are you that upset about it?” you huffed, trying to read into her emotions, “It’s nothing to worry about, really. Mother seems to have found a man that’s to her liking, you know, finances, property, intelligence and manners all included.”

She shook her head, mustering a small smile, “No, It’s not that. I was just wondering… how difficult it’s probably going to be for me to find a husband.”

You frowned.

“You have loads of accomplishments. You’re going to be fine,” you assured her, choosing gentle words that paved a way for a peaceful conclusion as always, though your words seemed to have weighed heavier on her, a small sigh leaving her as she toyed with your bedsheet under her hand. You would be lying if you said it didn’t spark some sort of competitive urge to prove that you could find better words to dissipate her worry.

She sighed, briefly glancing at you before looking away, mumbling in a way that was almost reluctant to be heard, “Love is important too, you know.”

You fell silent at her words, the ache in you growing obvious again. That ache for the kind of rest that went beyond physical things. One that seemed natural for you to forego, for everyone’s sake but yours.

You nodded, swallowing the dryness in your throat. You sifted through your archive of neutral, concluding words, words that you didn’t necessarily believe for yourself, but words that would suffice for now.

“I’m sure it will find you,” you murmured.

There was nothing but silence in the room afterwards. feeling yourself starting to get drowsy as your sister got up, walking over to your bedside stool to retrieve her book.

“What’s his name?” she murmured.

At your silence, she continued, “you know, maybe I can keep my ears open for any gossip when I go to the flower market,” she insisted, eager to have a little bit of adventure in her otherwise mundane days, clearly.

You thought about it just for a moment, wondering if your pride overpowered your curiosity on what kind of gossip she would hear. You figured that in this moment, you couldn’t deny your curiosity.

“Jung Jaehyun.”

Only after she left, you realised she hadn’t specified who she was referring to.

===

The ache did not disappear when you woke up near the afternoon, as much as you wished it did. Frankly, you didn’t manage to get much sleep at all, the sound of your door bursting open being what jolted you awake.

No words were exchanged, simply your mother rummaging through your drawers she used for storage for something she couldn’t seem to find, returning empty-handed to wherever she came from.

Figuring you could have something to eat before returning to bed, you got dressed, heading to the dining room. You saw your sister and your mother there eating breakfast, the staff clearing what you assumed to be your father’s used plates and utensils. It was almost strange how you felt yourself relax at the knowledge of not having to sit through a meal with him.

“Good morning,” your sister’s grin was on full display as you sat next to her, “there’s a surprise for you in the drawing room.”

“Surprise?” you frowned, taking a bite of your food even though you weren’t all that hungry, knowing it would set your mother off if you weren’t eating.

As if it were orchestrated by some divine power, you heard the low vibrations of what could only be a man’s voice in your otherwise female-occupied household.

Men, as in, plural?

You stared at the doorway of the dining room, a strange feeling in your gut as you heard the voices grow louder, your sister seeming to catch on as she grabbed your hand, forcing you to abandon your breakfast as she led you to the drawing room.

“A fresh one,” she smiled, her clues not giving you any idea of what awaited you in the drawing room.

“Living and breathing?” You weren’t sure why you were breathless, but you became sure when you saw the man standing next to your father, whose gaze had met yours with a certain finality and hadn’t bothered tearing itself away.

Living and breathing, right in front of your eyes.

“Roses!” your sister chipped in, “pink ones. And white clovers too.”

Viscount Jung Jaehyun, standing just a few paces away from you and your sister in your drawing room as your father talked his ear off about the renovations he wanted to make to the estate.

It irked you how your thoughts had almost instantly shifted to the rosy lips of the viscount, allowing yourself to wonder just for a moment if the flowers were from him. It gave you whiplash to think of him gifting you such romantic flowers after the exchange you both shared just hours before.

Perhaps they were meant as some sort of an apology? Perhaps the viscount had dug deep within himself to find that his behaviour was far from pleasant. Yes , if that was the case, maybe you were right to think he wasn’t as horrible as he seemed, maybe the viscount had some decency in him after all.

“The name on the card didn’t sound familiar, but I figured you would know once you see it!”

That seemed to have caught Jaehyun’s attention (as much as he tried to hide it), though he masked his curiosity well as he pretended to be fascinated with the interior of your drawing room.

Rolling your shoulders back, you fixed your posture, reaching a hand out to the little card that was perched delicately in the midst of the flowers, a simple handwritten card that read:

- To thank you for the pleasure of your company - Nakamoto Yuta

“Are they from the viscount?” your sister asked loudly, earning a sharp nudge from you that sent her stumbling, your gaze darting to the viscount and missing the smirk that had graced his lips.

You shook your head, murmuring, “The other man.”

Your sister wasn’t doing a very good job in saving your face in front of the viscount, making no move to hide her dismay as her lips parted with a sigh of disappointment, “The boring one?”

Grabbing her hand quickly, you led her back to the dining room, making sure your voice was more than audible as you walked past the viscount.

“The only man from the evening who was worth remembering,” you commented, suppressing your satisfaction when you heard the viscount clear his throat, suggesting to move to your father’s office for a more conducive discussion.

Just as you’d settled back into your seat at the dining table, feeling more of an appetite to eat now after your little success in irking the viscount, your mother spoke from where she stood by the doorway, glancing out of the window briefly as she fixed her gloves.

“Get dressed, we should be ready to entertain callers soon.”

“Callers?” you couldn’t help but frown, hearing your sister grunt from where she was beside you.

“I’ve invited Mr Nakamoto for some tea, perhaps the two of you could go for a stroll in the late afternoon.” You inhaled deeply, something about the proposal not seeming to entice you as much as your curiosity as to what was going on in your father’s office with the viscount. It was a shame even boring estate talk could seem more appealing to you than conversation and a stroll with an attractive, eligible suitor.

“Well that’s my cue to leave, then. Wouldn’t want to be caught in the crossfire of mindless talk,” amusement left your sister in hushed giggles, her chair screeching against the wooden floor loudly as she got up, making you cringe at the sound she was otherwise unaffected by.

Your mother hadn’t bothered acknowledging her departure, though you heard your sister’s footsteps bounding up the stairs, the sound of her bidding your father goodbye before the same thumping down the stairs echoed till the front door was shut.

You sighed, looking out of the window at the cloud cover that kept the sun from gracing anything beneath it, choosing once again to push your feelings behind you for the sake of your mother who wanted to ensure security for your future. For the sake of your father who longed to retire. For the sake of your sister who was still trusting that there was love and hope in her world.

You would receive Mr Nakamoto and you would do so gracefully. Another step towards the end goal in your long, tedious game.

===

The afternoon went perfectly. A little too perfectly, if you were being honest.

It was almost frustrating, how there was barely anything to complain about when it came to Yuta. He was on his best behaviour today, even managing to start and sustain a very well-developed conversation with your father when he had come down with the viscount briefly while they made their way to the other part of your estate.

And there you sat, like a jilted lover during the whole exchange, frustrated at the fact that Yuta had somehow managed to have everybody smitten for him, except yourself. A little nagging in your gut had tried to convince you that perhaps that was how Yuta wanted to go about this; winning over your family so he wouldn’t have to try so hard to win you over, as if this was his strategy in his own long, tedious game.

Even as you went out to promenade by the lake, you struggled to be present to the man next to you.

“Did you like the flowers?” he asked, earning a blank stare from you till you managed to register his question.

“Oh, yes I did. They’re lovely flowers.”

“Do you happen to have a liking for them? I saw many arrangements in your house when your mother was showing me around.”

You shook your head, the sudden recollection of your sister’s words about mindless small talk coming to mind as you dismissed them with a huff, “Not particularly. I mean, I do like them, but I wouldn’t go as far as making arrangements and whatnot. That is more of my sister’s hobby.”

Yuta hummed, “Do you have a favourite?”

Glancing up at Yuta, the way his smile was relaxed, his attention seemed to be solely focused on you. Something about it threw you off guard, wondering why he’d taken a liking to you when you were sure his smile and his charm would have any girl in your neighbourhood begging for his attention (perhaps just not yourself included).

“Lilacs.”

Yuta’s smile grew, looking somewhat pleased with your answer.

“Is first love something you hold dear to yourself?”

You let out a huff at that, impressed that he was familiar with the language of flowers, the thought of his pink roses from the morning making you feel somewhat uncomfortable at his pursuit.

You shook your head, “I’ve never actually… experienced it before.”

Yuta’s next words had stilled your fingers over your umbrella, wondering if he’d taken the words straight out of one of the romance novels in your bookshelf.

“I’d like to think it feels like this,” he sighed, a serene expression on his face as you walked together, “being able to share this with you.”

You were holding your breath, you were sure of it. But why wasn’t this feeling as heart-fluttering as you were expecting? Sure, his words were nice to hear, but was it because you were too distracted at the moment?

Now, you were frustrated. It wasn’t as if you could go back in time to ask him to repeat himself in the hope that you would feel something. Perhaps you were just tired, you told yourself (even if you knew that really wasn’t the reason behind your apathy).

“Shall we head back?”

Even as you were walking back, Yuta didn’t seem to let up as easily. His demeanour was vastly different from how it was at the ball. This time, he was asking you more questions about yourself, as if he were specifically orchestrating dialogue sequences that would allow him to insert romantic one-liners like the one before. Though they were flowery, and by the nature of the word you figured flowery would mean they were pleasant, but you were at a loss with the way they left you feeling well… not exactly pleased . You were hearing him, definitely, but you were stuck feeling like he wasn’t really hearing you.

As you were walking back, you reached your house just as the viscount’s carriage was leaving, tensing up as you saw your father standing next to the little flower garden behind the gates of your house as he saw the viscount off.

You avoided his gaze, hoping you would be able to walk past him without being stopped, but it seemed that wasn’t the case with how Yuta greeted your father with much more enthusiasm than you’d seen him bear all day.

You’d taken that as your queue to enter the house first, the sound of the piano echoing from the walls indicating your sister was home and that made you all the more eager to be in the company of someone you actually wanted to see today. Your father and Yuta followed behind you, not seeming to be affected by your absence as you drew closer to your sister, finally feeling as though you could relax slightly more in her presence.

“How was it?” she whispered, glancing not-so-subtly at Yuta, earning a small mustered smile from yourself.

“He was lovely,” you told her, (which in fact, wasn’t a lie).

She grinned.

“He’s handsome too, I must say. But even so, he can’t be compared to the man father was talking to this morning. They each have a different… air,” her shoulders lifted as she spoke, arms moving in the way your old piano tutor called ‘with emotion’ as she played, “you know, in the way they carry themselves.”

You let out a deep sigh, nodding slowly, “You do know that man is the viscount I mentioned the night before, don’t you?”

Her playing faltered abruptly (though your father and Yuta were too distracted to notice), slowly picking up where she’d left off, “ The viscount? The one named Jung Jaehyun? He was the man father was talking to?”

Her amazement was obvious, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t understand why she was so shocked.

You nodded, “The ill-mannered one.”

She frowned, “That’s unfortunate, then. He really did live up to what the townspeople were saying about him. Beauty and grace and elegance… a man that looks like everything he touches turns to gold.”

You rolled your eyes, amusement hinted in your smile, “Not everything gold is worth wanting.”

“Would you say Mr Nakamoto is the exception, then? More worth wanting than the Midas-touch-viscount himself?” She scoffed.

You didn’t have an answer for that, maybe because you weren’t convinced of the one you were going to offer her.

“We’ll see. He just might have to be.”

She giggled, seemingly satisfied with your answer as she resumed playing the piano, the lilting melody carrying you elsewhere for the moment until Yuta was done with the conversation he was having with your father, bidding you goodbye as he left.

As your father made his way over to you, you forced yourself to meet his gaze, resisting the urge to look away and fidget in your discomfort. “I’m going to be away in the afternoons for business over the next few days, so you’ll be handling the meetings with the viscount on the estate. I trust that you’re already well versed on what needs to be taken care of.”

“Will mother be joining—”

“What good will that do?” he huffed, “Do not waste your time with these silly questions. There is no need to get her or your sister involved and cause them unnecessary stress. You are capable enough of handling it on your own.”

You sighed, watching him leave in the direction of his office, leaving you to slump onto the sofa next to where your sister was, curling into a comfortable position for a nap as the gentle melody worked on lulling you to a place where your worries were far away and rest seemed within reach.

===

If Jaehyun was surprised to see you the next day, he didn’t show it, simply glancing at you as he entered the house, nodding his head as if he’d expected you to be there (even if he really didn’t).

“I trust my father has briefed you that I'll be handling the estate matters while he’s away?” you were first to break the silence, watching as one of his hands moved to touch the pads of his fingertips, looking somewhat preoccupied. Or perhaps, he was recalling his exchange with your father, looking at you curiously. Though that curiosity had left as soon as it came, replaced with a playful glint in his eyes.

“My apologies,” his tone was anything but remorseful, punctuated by the little smirk that was playing at his lips, “I figure you’d much rather be… well, handling Mr Nakamoto.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “D’you fancy yourself a comedian, my lord?”

Jaehyun had simply shrugged, showing some modesty in the small shake of his head.

“Good. Because you’d be a very poor one.”

You began to lead him to your father’s office, Jaehyun noticing the way your steps had slowed as you grew nearer to the door, the deep breath you’d taken in before your hands had met the doorknob, turning it and pushing only to be met with a smell that was unmistakably like your father.

Hints of a pipe smoked hours ago, the smell of his library books, ink on his desk, the musk and citrus and alcohol that blended together to form the imposing presence of your father even when he wasn’t here. Your posture had straightened and your steps became quiet and wary almost instinctively.

You stayed far from his desk, as you had always done, surprising Jaehyun with the way you’d simply taken the documents you needed and sat yourself on one of the chairs in the office, legs crossing uncomfortably as you gripped the papers in your hands.

Eyeing you carefully, Jaehyun made his way to the chair nearest to you, pulling out his own blueprints that he and your father had discussed the day before.

“Did my…” you began, throat feeling dry all of a sudden at the sight of the documents before you, “did my father tell you what I had to go over on his behalf?”

Jaehyun simply tilted his head at you.

“We’ve gone over it actually, he… just told me to ask you for the stamp and to clear the financial documents. He mentioned that you took care of the family’s accounts.”

You figured you shouldn’t have been surprised that your father didn’t actually want your opinion on his decisions. You’d just let yourself get carried away thinking he wanted to know what you thought about the things he made you responsible for.

“Oh, so my business here is simply for the seal, am I correct to say that—?”

“No, actually, I would appreciate it if I could go over these plans with you once before you approve them. It’s only sensible if—”

You shook your head firmly, Jaehyun stopping himself at your gesture, eyebrows furrowing as if the situation was upsetting to him.

“That won’t be necessary. I would rather not impose on his… plans,” you sighed, averting your gaze from his as you stood up, making your way over to your father’s desk for his seal.

“Impose?” he quirked an eyebrow, wondering why it was that you seemed to withdraw so easily when it came to your father, “You had no problem imposing on my plans at the ball.”

Rolling your eyes, you struggled to keep your hands steady as they sifted past the papers on your father’s desk.

“I would be sorry if your initial plans were any good to begin with,” you murmured distractedly.

It was strange, how you felt as if you were doing something you weren’t supposed to. As if you were secretly rummaging around in his desk while your heart was thrumming wildly at the thought of him walking in and catching you red-handed, feeling the disappointment that would meet you in his gaze, rendering you a little child again who had more familiarity with these belongings than she did her father.

“If you’re not sorry about that, you could be sorry about the fact that people seem to think I’m courting you now.”

You debated ignoring his statement, glancing at him only briefly as you arranged the papers in your hand.

Humming, it seemed your urge to cover up your nerves had shown up in snappy retorts aimed towards Jaehyun, strangely unfiltered with him even though you figured you should’ve been.

“Of course, because a man like you should be able to show up to a ball simply for the music and drink.”

Clenching and unclenching your fists, you went about the process as calmly as you could, Jaehyun’s watchful, curious eyes unnerving you even as you made the seal.

“Are you alright?” he spoke suddenly, earning a sharp inhale and a glare from you in return, your grip tightening around the seal. Whether it was because the question felt out of place, or whether it was the fact that he had caught on to your discomfort, you would rather not admit.

You shut your father’s desk drawer with a quiet click, habitual movements from many instances of sneaking in here as a child for writing materials.

“What does it matter to you?”

“No, just… does my presence here make you uncomfortable?” his eyebrows furrowed, what seemed like genuine curiosity taking over his features once again.

Trust you to be defensive, though.

A scoff left you, the thud of the beaten book that you used to keep track of your family’s accounts dropping against your father’s desk echoing through the room as if that were your form of exerting your dominance over the room and everything it represented.

“Has the thought only crossed your mind now? Besides, don’t flatter yourself,” you scoffed, “your presence doesn't have that much of an effect on me.”

That would’ve done it , you figured. You could imagine the way his lips would curl into a sarcastic smile, or how he would simply scoff and announce that it was about time for him to leave. Anything but what followed next.

“Maybe not mine, but your father’s seems to.”

Somehow, you almost wished your sister was here to defuse the tension in the room, or to crack a joke to save you from having to face such an observation. But she wasn’t, and the truth of the matter was that you were sitting here facing a stranger who seemed confident that they could read you like an open book.

And maybe, his confidence wasn’t completely unfounded.

A silence fell between the both of you, tense and ridden with an understanding both of you were aware of but neither were willing to put down their pride first to admit.

You scoffed, waving him off in dismissal as naturally as you could, “You’ve never seen us interact.”

“I don’t have to,” he huffed, speaking matter-of-factly, “you’ve been… tense ever since I suggested having our meeting in his office.”

“I just don’t like being in stuffy offices,” you shrugged again, pretending to be busy with your notebook.

Jaehyun rolled his eyes, confidence in his stare as he leaned back in his seat, crossing his legs, “ Or the person the stuffy office belongs to.”

Your sharp gaze met his almost instantly, letting out a small huff of air through your nose. You were at a loss of a witty retort, though somehow that didn’t feel as damning as you thought it would; the viscount didn’t seem to be attacking today in the same way he was before at the ball.

“It’s not a crime, you know,” he murmured, cutting you some slack from the way he averted his gaze to fiddle with his sleeve, “you’re not expected to be amiable with him all the time. At least not in my book.”

You attempted to swallow in the hopes that it would make the lump in your throat feel less suffocating, to no avail.

“Amiable,” you echoed, huffing at his choice of words. Even on good days, you don’t think you could use a word like that to describe your interactions with your father.

Jaehyun searched your expression, reading into your silence, shaking his head dismissively, “Sorry if I overstepped, I don’t usually have the habit of voicing out my observations so… carelessly.”

You didn’t believe him, strangely. Everything about what had just transpired between the both of you seemed anything but careless. Instead, it came with all the intentionality of trying to understand someone. Somehow, that knowledge made you less inclined to hold back in front of him.

When you finally felt like your voice wouldn’t give, you spoke, “Are you speaking from experience?”

His eyebrows raised in question, “My father?”

You nodded, earning a huff from him. Now it was your turn to watch him shift in his discomfort, averting his gaze and swallowing thickly. “Never really had much of a relationship with him or my mother… I uh… I lived with my aunt and uncle since I was a child.”

“Did you have much of a relationship with them, then?”

Jaehyun shrugged.

“Not as much as I did with my tutors,” he huffed, perhaps in some attempt to lighten the mood, “they were the ones I spent most of my time with.”

You hummed, hands stilling around the papers you had yet to hand over to him.

At your lack of an immediate response, he looked up, continuing, “It’s nothing to pity me for. They raised me as best as they could.”

“I don’t pity you,” you spoke.

Sure, it wasn’t exactly pity that you felt, but you weren’t sure what exactly the feeling that stirred in your chest even was. Perhaps it was a desire to be as grateful for your parents as he was? Perhaps it was an understanding of the little insistence that he didn’t want to be pitied. Perhaps it was the breathlessness that came with the way he was looking at you now, expectant for your reply.

Whatever it was, you found yourself recalling your conversation with your sister, feeling almost embarrassed at how even now, you still thought he was capable of turning things to gold.

“You don’t?” he questioned, his tone uncharacteristically gentle, unlike anything you’ve heard before.

“Do you want me to?” you weren’t sure why you were asking, simply curious how he would reply.

Jaehyun let out a huff through his nose, shaking his head. He wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to elicit from you. Although it was definitely something , he could say certainly that pity definitely wasn’t what it was.

“No, I don’t.”

You held his gaze, nodding. “Good, I don’t want you to pity me either.”

Before he could reply, you straightened up, handing the documents back to him with your father’s seal already in its rightful place. Taking in a deep breath, he stood up, taking you back almost immediately to what it felt like to dance with him at the ball, your proximity to him now allowing you to feel him towering over you, though strangely without the condescension that was present before.

“A lady like you shouldn’t care for my pity,” he murmured, the faintest of smiles playing at his lips.

And just like that, it was as if the exchange never happened, as if you both didn’t just bare a part of your souls to each other. Jaehyun straightened out his clothes, averting his gaze to the floor as you both allowed the façade of banter to mask the windedness that came from suddenly feeling all-too exposed.

“You won’t need to tell me twice.”

===

“You wouldn’t believe what I heard at the flower market,” your sister barged into your room as you were getting ready to attend a soiree that evening.

Your eyebrows raised, smoothing down your dress before sitting on your bed, giving her an expectant look.

“It appears Lord Jung is an anti-social man,” she began, “a few of the ladies at the flower market were talking about him, they said he’s rarely seen with people other than those he does business with. I interpreted that as the man having no friends, but that’s quite sad, isn’t it?”

You shrugged, “I figure something like that is subjective.”

Your sister didn’t seem convinced, “I think it’s lonely. Not having anyone to talk to about your life, about your struggles, about your joys… only being able to talk about your business wherever you go. I find that an awfully lonely way to live.”

Huffing, you got up from your bed, “He doesn’t seem keen on finding a marriage partner either so perhaps he’s more comfortable in this loneliness than you think.”

“I don’t believe it,” she grunted, “but it does make some sense. Maybe that’s why his manners aren’t the best, because he’s used to talking to cunning old businessmen.”

You let out a huff of laughter, “You sound like you’re defending him.”

Giving you a shrug, she hummed, “Maybe if you see him at the soirée later you can find out for yourself if he’s worth defending,” she smiled.

You could only sigh at that, glancing out the door when you heard your mother calling for you.

“That is, if Mr Nakamoto doesn’t talk my ears off before that.”

One thing about soirées, or these public events during the season in general, was that they didn’t allow for much privacy at all. It wasn’t like you were in the confines of your father’s study with the viscount’s full attention on you, no. You were in someone else’s house, with many many different eyes on you, at the receiving end of everybody’s attention except the very person who wouldn’t seem to leave your mind.

It was as if you were being shadowed by Yuta, your mother looking on with delight as your chaperone while the both of you conversed and you nursed your glass of whatever drink he’d handed to you. In such a setting, you couldn’t help but be hyper-aware of your posture, your manners, your tone of voice, the way you held your fan, even the way you would time your glances towards Yuta. All part of your tedious game, you supposed— to win the affections of a man you felt no real desire towards.

What did you desire, then? You wondered. His attention? His approval? You continued with the knowledge that even if you didn’t desire him, you wanted to feel worthy of his desire. It was messy, and it felt manipulative. But you figured those were things you’d signed up for the moment you started playing this game (however unwillingly).

You could see Jaehyun standing at the corner of the room next to the grand piano, looking intently at the multitude of sheet music next to the piano. The sight was almost amusing when you recalled your sister’s words, because indeed as you looked at him now, the sheer intent of his glare on the sheet music would be enough to intimidate anyone from initiating a conversation with him.

“Do you know how to play?” Yuta’s words had caught your attention, and you’d almost grimaced at the realisation that you’d been walking towards the piano. Stopping just a few paces away from the piano, you cast a brief glance at Jaehyun who was still glaring at the sheet music in his hands.

“No, no. I don’t, actually.”

Yuta smiled, “I would offer to play something for you, but it seems viscount Jung has beat me to it,” he murmured as you heard the melody start to sound from the piano. You knew this piece, it was the one your sister was playing when Jaehyun had visited your house the other day.

For some reason, the piece held much more melancholy than you realised, or maybe it was the way he was playing it, holding you (and all the other women in the room, you guessed) captive, unable to look elsewhere.

You weren’t even paying attention to what you were talking to Yuta about, feeling the words come out of your mouth but paying no attention to what you were actually saying. Little did you know that as focused as Jaehyun seemed on his playing, every word of yours was flitting into his mind and refusing to leave.

“I was always envious of people who could play the piano,” you sighed almost wistfully, earning a hum from Yuta.

“Were you not tutored for it?”

You shook your head, “It wasn’t something I was interested in when I was younger, but I suppose as I grew older, the music started to feel comforting to an extent. Only I was simply a listener, not the one who conveyed such comfort,” you huffed, attempting to make light of your feelings.

Yuta, as always, replied with his flowery lines, not being able to pick up on how you were really feeling and taking your words at surface level with a smile.

“Well, you certainly are an excellent conversationalist, so I would still consider myself accomplished if I were you.”

You hummed, brushing off your discomfort and mustering a smile, “Thank you.”

Jaehyun had to withhold his amusement, wondering again why it was that you were so willing to withdraw to men like Yuta, men who were all-too-familiar with manipulating their words to their advantage. If you’d simply bit back with half the amount of snark that you generously gave him, he was sure Yuta would be at a loss for words.

How frustrating. Surely, you could tell that Yuta was not a good match for you, couldn’t you?

Coming to the end of his piano piece, Jaehyun stood up, simply picking up his glass of wine that he had set on top of the piano, acting as if he wasn’t the one at the receiving end of the room’s applause.

Perhaps it was a stroke of divine timing, but one of the servants had approached Yuta, murmuring into his ear something you couldn’t quite catch. Yuta straightened up in response, casting an apologetic glance your way.

“Forgive me, I need to excuse myself for a moment,” he muttered, rushing off to somewhere you couldn’t truly be bothered to wonder about.

Jaehyun did not waste the opportunity presented to him, taking just the tiniest of steps closer to you and murmuring behind his glass, “Evening… are you alright?”

He noticed the way your shoulders were tense, your fidgety gaze around the room, the way you’d kept bringing your glass to your lips but the level of liquid in your glass was barely going down.

“Please, spare me. I am in no mood for needless bickering tonight,” you huffed, bringing your glass to your lips again to take a small sip.

Truthfully enough, the ache was back again as you stood in the room filled with chatter and music. The ache of longing for the ability to rid yourself of the façade of the perfect marriage partner that was growing more tiring to uphold. The ache that grew stronger when you conversed with Yuta, feeling as though if you were to enter a marriage with this man, the ache would only intensify. It was dangerous to entertain him in a place like this, because Jaehyun’s presence always seemed to draw you out of this façade.

“Bickering?” he scoffed, a faint smirk appearing on his lips.

“Was that not what you approached me for?” you turned to him with a frown, “I suppose the soirée was getting boring for you if you felt the need to take such a drastic measure as to approach me of all people.”

There you were , he mused.

Jaehyun shifted another step closer to you, something about his proximity making the conversation between the both of you more obvious, and you could tell from the way your mother was looking at you that it was indeed obvious that you had his attention.

“Oh, not at all. I was hoping I could be reminded what an excellent conversationalist you were,” he drawled, clearly proud of himself judging from the smile playing on his lips.

You rolled your eyes. “And you suppose you’re any better?”

“Of course, I am. Anyway, you didn’t answer my question.”

“You asked me a question? Must not have been worth remembering,” you sighed.

As much as you felt he annoyed you, you had to admit that it was somewhat relieving not having to be on your ‘best behaviour’ around him. You were sure any chance of marriage would be tossed out of the window if you were to speak in such a manner to Yuta (or any other suitor).

Jaehyun’s expression grew more serious, eyebrows lifting slightly in concern, “I asked if you were alright.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, suddenly feeling as exposed as you did that day in the study. It was strange how easily he managed to read into your feelings. You figured you’d been doing a good job at masking it.

“What does it matter? It’s not like you to be so concerned,” you huffed.

“So, you’re not alright?” he prompted, earning a shrug from you, looking into your glass as though it held the answer you were both looking for.

“It doesn’t matter if I’m feeling alright or not, the soirée is not going to end anytime soon,” you danced around his question, hoping the mention of the soirée would redirect his line of questioning.

He noticed the Rubies that were draped around your neck, something about it feeling off. He much preferred the look of the Amethysts you were wearing before, the first time he’d met you.

“New necklace?” he quirked an eyebrow at you, earning a grunt in response.

“A gift,” you muttered, “from Mr Nakamoto.”

“I see. You still haven’t answered my question,” his tone remained firm, eyebrows furrowed and gaze intent on you.

You clenched and unclenched your fist, turning to him with your eyebrows furrowed, throat feeling dry as you tried to wrangle your voice awake when you met his gaze, uncomfortable at the way his attentiveness tempted you to pour out your feelings to him.

“Is this really the reason you approached me? Look, I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again. What does it matter? ”

Jaehyun was undeterred, meeting you with the same amount of stubbornness and challenge, “It matters because you’re… different. You behaved… differently when you were talking to Mr Nakamoto.”

“Compared to what? When I’m talking to you?” the words left you quicker than you could process them.

“Do you not think so?” he retorted just as quickly, tilting his head at you with the confidence that came from knowing the answer without you having to verbalise it.

You let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding.

“Well… there’s no reason for me to act as though I’m trying to impress you.”

Jaehyun simply huffed in amusement, tilting his glass slightly as he contemplated uttering the thought that came to mind, going for it anyway.

“Somehow, that impresses me enough.”

Unsure what to make of his words, you shifted your gaze elsewhere, adjusting your grip on your glass because your palms had started to feel clammy. You remembered wondering what it would’ve been like at the receiving end of his attention, and now that you had it you were finding that even his words seemed capable of sprinkling gold dust on your heart.

“I didn’t know you could play the piano,” you changed the subject, your body starting to feel warm under your clothes, burning under the intensity of his gaze, wondering if this was how the sheet music must have felt under his gaze.

“I picked it up when I was younger. Out of all the instruments I've touched, I would say the piano is the one I tend to return to more.”

“It’s your favourite?”

He shook his head.

“What is your favourite, then?” You found yourself asking, genuinely curious this time instead of just a small-talk formality that you usually followed at such events.

You wouldn’t have known it, but Jaehyun was feeling the same unfamiliarity as you, feeling as though his body was moving before he could process it. He wasn’t used to holding a conversation like this with someone he barely knew, especially when it wasn’t about business or architecture. And for some reason, he couldn’t find it in himself to care about the stares he was receiving as a result of such conversation.

“The violin,” he admitted almost sheepishly, as if he was embarrassed that he could play an instrument you could only dream of playing.

Your eyebrows lifted in surprise, gaze wandering to the violin that was perched nearby the piano, after being played by one of the guests when you’d first arrived.

“Why is it your favourite?”

He hummed, and by now you’d forgotten that Yuta had even promised to return, something in you not being able to find it in yourself to pretend that you were annoyed at Jaehyun’s attention, you truthfully weren’t. For someone as ‘antisocial’ as he was deemed, you found it was comfortable feeling like you didn’t have to present ‘textbook perfect wife’ answers for him. If only your sister could see you now.

“It was the first instrument I learned as a child… but I moved on to different instruments when I was older because my aunt insisted on me learning other instruments. You know, the more skills, the better. Somehow it’s…” he huffed, amused at his own willingness to share with you, the only person aside from his best friend Johnny that wasn’t keeling over begging to polish the ground he walks on.

It was refreshing, he was realising, to not be treated like he was perfect.

“It makes me very nostalgic. For that time in my life when there were no worries, you know? When all I had on my mind was the next piece I was eager to ask my tutor to teach me, waiting each day for her to retrieve the sheet music so I could play it until I knew it by heart.”

Jaehyun continued, “It’s strange, sometimes when I find myself picking up the violin again, it’s like the music just flows out naturally… and I realise I really did know it by heart.”

You hummed, nodding.

“Like muscle memory,” you offered, earning a soft smile from him unlike anything you’ve seen before. This one made you feel as though you were catching glimpses of Jaehyun as a child, the little boy whose only worry was for the day the calluses on his fingers would start to disappear.

“Can you play something now?” you weren’t sure what compelled you to ask, but the answer you were met with had surprised you even more.

“Oh, no no. It’s not… like that,” he huffed, still a hint of sheepishness in the smile that lingered on his features, “I don’t play it that often… rarely. Only when I'm really stressed, if there's too much on my mind.”

Nodding, you took a fuller sip of your drink, slightly more liberated now that your stomach wasn’t churning like how it was before.

“Your aunt must’ve really invested a lot of her fortune in your tuition, considering you were tutored for multiple instruments,” you hummed, earning a grunt from him.

“I suppose she had to, they received too much from my parents each month to not do anything with it,” he sighed, leaning against the bookshelf behind him, turning his head to look at you with tired eyes, “I still remember the way I would look forward to the letters they would send every now and then just to praise me for whatever competition I had won, or whatever certificate I'd achieved.”

“Do you think it was worth it? All the effort you put in?” you murmured, curious to how he would answer even though you knew you’d be at a loss if the same question was asked to you. Somehow, you felt like his answer would tell you more about him than small talk at balls or promenades would.

Jaehyun hummed thoughtfully, lips pursing slightly, “That was what love felt like to me back then, the love I felt for music and… their letters, so… do I think it was worth it?” he shrugged, a smile that bordered on bitterness had graced his features, “Do you?”

Perhaps it was the way you felt like you couldn’t hide under his gaze, or maybe it was the way you felt like he wouldn’t hold your grievances against you. Whatever it was, you found yourself wanting to share with him. And strangely enough, the idea of it had started to scare you less as time went by.

“My parents were like that too. You know, as the oldest daughter… no news was good news. My duty was to… to not cause worry, to be strong for the family, to take care of my sister, to perform well in all that I did for the family’s sake. For me, it was… like an instruction manual,” you huffed, finding yourself looking to him for affirmation that he understood what you meant, and the knowing smile and nod you received in return made your heart jump in your chest.

“Do all of this well and you’ll receive your parents’ love. Don’t do it and…” you trailed off, earning a hum from him.

“Tire yourself out trying and trying again,” he murmured, earning a deep sigh from you.

Did you think it was worth it? You weren’t sure, but you still found yourself trying nonetheless.

Jaehyun had succeeded in unlocking a part of you you’d never spoken to anyone about before, and like you said, something about it felt liberating, the solution to your ache starting to feel a little more within reach even if you still weren’t sure what it was.

“One of my friends, Johnny, has a pretty strong view about this… he says that people are fickle… that we can change based on the slightest of factors…”

“Your friend sounds a little bitter.”

The viscount laughed, “Quite the contrary, actually, I think he’s quite the romantic… just overly managing his expectations.”

“Is that so? What made him have such views, then?”

The viscount hummed, pressing his lips in a firm line before parting them to speak, “Money, I suppose. How people react to money, how he’s seen it change the way people treat a person. Sometimes, it’s difficult to tell whether a person is enamoured with you or the security your wealth provides. Though, with the way things are, it leaves a woman with no choice but to seek out security first, love being secondary to everything else.”

You hummed, nodding slowly as you processed his words.

“Sorry, I interrupted. You were saying?”

Jaehyun wasn’t sure why that made him smile, choosing to dismiss it and continue anyway, “anyway, his view is that when we’re constantly trying and trying to follow these instruction manuals on ‘How to earn love’... at the end of the day they can hold it over our heads and decide that there are more instructions, more requirements we haven’t met yet… he thinks it isn’t possible.”

You frowned, “What? To find love?”

Jaehyun nodded, “Genuine love, I suppose. I guess I understand what he means. Even though more people have been talking about a love match these days, it feels out of reach somehow. People still end up looking at you like a list of instructions, a list of qualifications, weighing who has a list that is easier to meet and going with that.”

“Do you think yours is difficult to meet?” you found yourself asking, earning a blank look from the viscount.

“That’s the thing,” he huffed, “People like us… who try and try and are tired of trying… we wish we didn’t have one.”

Somehow, you felt a certain conviction in your heart, shaking your head at him.

“Maybe we don’t, and we just haven’t realised that yet.”

===

You hadn’t seen Jaehyun at the next ball, or the next, and he didn’t return to your house for meetings with your father. You figured he was busy, so you tried not to wait. Though the ache persisted, coming and going like waves. With how often you felt it, you assumed you would have grown familiar with it. But in cases like these, the familiarity was unsettling, as if your body was crying out for help that you weren’t able to provide.

Yuta kept you relatively occupied, sending you flowers regularly, light and bright coloured blooms attached to meanings of affection and purity and fondness, accompanied with letters containing equally flowery words. Though it didn’t keep you occupied enough.

Time seemed to pass without much of your awareness, the only thing you were aware of being the way the flowers Yuta sent would slowly wither and your sister would replace them with the new bouquets he sent over. You were growing frustrated at Yuta’s perfection, because that demanded perfection from you as well. You would be lying if you said you didn’t miss the liberation that came with your conversations with the viscount. Those were different, demanding honesty instead of perfection, and perhaps, perfection was found in that honesty.

“I think we can start thinking about discussing marriage with Mr Nakamoto,” your mother turned to murmur as you were having tea with Yuta in the drawing room, the man busy talking to your father about whatever literary piece they found they both enjoyed.

“Marriage?” you weren’t sure why the prospect seemed so daunting now that your mother had mentioned it, something about her words making you realise that her plans were solidifying and you couldn’t simply continue to play ‘tea party’ with Yuta much longer.

Your attention was diverted when your sister had entered with a stack of letters in her hand (presumably taken from the staff), her excited gaze meeting yours as she waved a single letter in your direction.

“Are those my letters?” your mother asked, earning a grunt from your sister.

“They’re father’s letters,” she informed tersely, making her way over to you and dropping a single letter into your lap, shoving the rest towards your mother in an attempt to distract her.

The dismayed expression on your mother showed it was somewhat successful, “You know, you really have to fix your manners when it’s your turn to debut,” she began, seeming ready to launch into a tirade of nit-picking towards your sister but you knew nothing could very well escape her watchful eyes when it came to you, eyeing the letter in your hands curiously.

“What’s that?”

“Sister’s letter.”

Your mother’s hand reached out quickly, grasping the letter in your hand and peering over your shoulder to look at it, seeing no indication of a sender other than an elaborate letter ‘J’ imprinted on the seal.

“J? Do we know anyone with that initial?”

Your thoughts ran first to Jaehyun, and the look you exchanged with your sister only proved your suspicions correct, though she was quick to cover for you.

“Johnson, remember? Betty Johnson? Sister’s old friend that moved overseas,” it almost surprised you how smoothly she lied through her teeth when she was never a good liar. You never had a friend with the surname Johnson.

“Yeah, you wouldn’t have remembered her. I used to play with her and sister outside the church grounds when we were younger,” you added, pleased with how your mother had bought your lie, shrugging as she turned her attention back to her cup of tea.

“If you’re going to start exchanging letters, don’t expect the money to come from your father and I. We’re already putting more than we can into your dowry,” she muttered, earning a sigh from you as Yuta and your father returned from his study.

“Shall we promenade?” he offered, and you glanced at your sister before looking back at him, rolled your shoulders back and gave him your sweetest smile.

Your sister leaned over, pretending to fix your hair so she could lean in to murmur softly, “I’ll put the letter in your notebook.”

And so you left to promenade with Yuta.

“Lovely weather, isn’t it?” he smiled, squinting his eyes as he looked up at the sky, with you holding your parasol above your head, simply giving him a small hum.

“Have any other suitors declared their pursuit of you?” Yuta spoke abruptly, earning a frown from you.

Shaking your head, you couldn’t find it in yourself to speak, something about your anxiousness swallowing your words. You could almost hear your mother’s voice in your head now, telling you once again to ‘ use your words ’.

“No, they haven’t,” you managed to force out, earning a solemn nod from Yuta.

“Really? Not even viscount Jung?”

Your frown deepened, “What makes you say that?”

“Nothing in particular… just figured he was the only other person that could have caught your attention this season.”

You huffed, even Yuta thought of Jaehyun highly. You, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to get the image of the little boy playing the violin out of your mind when you thought of him, something about it was endearing.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking this, but… do you know the viscount personally by any chance?”

Somehow your words seemed to have struck a chord with Yuta, his expression turning stoic and his gaze shifting elsewhere. He shook his head, “No, I don’t.”

“Are you sure? He seemed to find you familiar at the ball—”

“He must be mistaking me for someone else,” Yuta turned to you with a smile, though the firmness of his tone contrasted the gentleness of his smile. It was enough to deter you from asking any further. With Yuta, you needed to be careful, knowing something as simple as behaving in an ill-mannered way would be enough to make your family’s plans for security and stability fall through. It wasn’t as simple as it seemed with Jaehyun, who was always game for whatever you threw his way.

The mood had turned sour afterwards, the both of you remaining in relative silence (well, other than Yuta’s occasional utterances of praise for your parents) until you were both back at your house, the servant who chaperoned behind the both of you helping to take the parasol from your hands as Yuta got ready to bid you goodbye.

After he left, it was like your body moved faster than you could process. It was embarrassing , the way you felt like an excited child running up to your room and grabbing the book sitting on your desk, flipping it open and letting Jaehyun’s letter drop out onto your bed.

Tearing the little envelope open with your finger, you unfolded the letter, catching a whiff of something so unmistakably like Jaehyun that it almost felt like he was in the same room.

‘Ms Y/N Y/L/N,

My apologies for disappearing without a word. I needed to leave urgently because of my friend, the one we talked about the other day. His father passed and I’m aiding him with the handover of his father’s business and some of the family property to him, since I was previously closely working with his father for their family’s winery. Perhaps I should be more apologetic for the fact that now social events are sure to be dreadful for you without my presence.’

You scoffed, you could almost picture the smirk on his face as he wrote that.

‘I am unsure when I am to return, but I am sure it will be before the season ends. I suppose now that my friend’s father has passed, he is to be looking for a wife as well, though I doubt it would be easy to convince him to come back with me. With his status now as a Marquess, I suppose many would be eager to coerce him into marrying their daughters if he were to arrive in town. Something he seems very opposed to.

Again, I hope I have not needlessly worried you with my sudden absence. Though, I suppose my absence would be something that gains rejoicing from you rather than disappointment. Nonetheless, things are rather hectic here. I hoped that in writing to you I could gain some form of entertainment hearing about the progress in the marriage mart that I am unfortunately missing out on. You can write to me, but it will be addressed to my friend’s estate as I am staying here until I leave. I look forward to hearing from you. Do keep safe and in good health.

-J’

“I’d keep that locked up, if I were you,” you jumped at the sound of your sister’s voice behind you, a mischievous smile on her face as she shut the door behind her, crawling onto your bed and making herself comfortable there.

“So is it official? That he’s courting you seriously?” she asked, and you could see the way her smile fell as you pursed your lips, shaking your head at her.

Now that you heard her words for yourself, it made you wonder. You expected Jaehyun to be someone meticulous, someone careful, someone who knew exactly what the implications of sending a lady a letter was in this day and age. It made you wonder about the intimacy hidden behind his otherwise mundane updates, and for some reason, it made you long for more.

“I’m going to write back,” you spoke, more for yourself than for her.

Her smile grew, “This is a dangerous game you’re playing, sister. I suppose you found he’s worth defending after all?”

You hummed absently, already pulling out your writing materials to begin writing your response to him.

“Not quite yet, but something tells me this will be worth it.”

‘Dear J,

My condolences for your friend’s father, I can only imagine how overwhelming it is to have all sorts of responsibility thrown at you before you can even process your own grief. Truthfully, I hadn’t noticed your absence’ (you were lying, obviously)

‘Perhaps because things have been hectic here as well. Each day seems to be filled with entertaining Mr Nakamoto and going for promenades. I’m quite tired of all the walking, to be very honest.

The mention of your friend made me think of what you said that day at the soirée, about finding genuine love in a world where marriage is an economic proposition. I find myself searching sometimes, even though I know my efforts are probably in vain. I know the reason I have been entertaining Mr Nakamoto is not because I’m attracted to him. It is like what you said, I find myself seeing him more as his list of instructions, and what that demands of mine. Then, I find myself drawn back to my duty as the first daughter of my family, drawn back to the need to secure some sort of relief or security for my family. By then, there is no thought of finding love in a marriage partner, only the transaction of it all. Still, there is a part of me that wonders how different the whole process would be if I truly loved my partner, how much less it would feel like a game and more like life.

I am only asking because I have not seen you dance with anyone at the events so far. I suppose you are either picky or disinterested. But just out of curiosity, do you think it’s possible? For you, I mean, to find genuine love this season?

I hope this proves as entertaining as you wished for it to be, I won’t apologise even if it ends up disappointing you.

From, me’

===

‘Ms Y/N Y/L/N,

Thank you for your concern. My friend is doing much better now, and I hope this means the chances of him returning with me have increased. I would like for you to meet him, something tells me he would get along well with your sister, they both seem to have a penchant for the arts.

To answer your question, I believe it is possible. Whether it is wise of me to think so, or whether it is wishful thinking… that remains undecided. But I cannot be sure. Personally, I have not come across such love where you are seen for all that you are and still loved, but I would like to believe it exists. Whether I am able to find it this season or not, believing it exists makes it feel more like life, like you said.

With that being said, I do wish the same for you, as much as you may not believe me. More than just promenades, answers from manuals, accomplishments and duties, but life. Sure, duties are important, family is important. But in my honest opinion, I don’t think fulfilling your duties should mean sacrificing your happiness, especially when it isn’t very well your duty at all, but that of others projected onto you. Perhaps I would get stoned by your mother if I said so, but I mean it.

I have to be going now, but I can guarantee that I will be back soon. Perhaps in less than a month’s time you will find yourself bickering with me at the corner of a rich woman’s house again. Do keep safe and in good health.

-J’

You should’ve trusted the nauseous feeling in your gut when you saw Yuta arrive at your house that morning, having arranged a private meeting with your parents and leaving promptly after. There could have only been one reason behind it, and it worried you. Again, the ache intensified, feeling as though it would only solidify if your suspicions were proved correct.

It was during teatime when your mother finally addressed the elephant in the room.

“Your father and I are keen on you proceeding with Mr Nakamoto,” she spoke plainly, your hand halting around the handle of your teacup.

“Huh?” as pathetic as it was, was all you could muster.

“Weighing your potential suitors, Mr Nakamoto brings the most stability. He has property, he is of a suitable age, he has wealth, he is personable. He seems prudent,” she lifted her gaze from her teacup to glance at you, just the slightest of frowns as she met your wide-eyed expression.

You knew this, yet you weren’t sure why it shocked you to hear it verbalised so forwardly.

“I’m sure you have no complaints,” it came more as a warning instead of an assumption, enough to make your throat feel dry and your voice start to retreat, “you can expect him to propose soon, so I expect you to be on your best behaviour. The family’s reputation depends on your response.”

You thought back to Jaehyun’s words. If you were to reject Yuta’s proposal, would that make you wise or foolish? You knew what was riding on this decision. If you were to reject him, you would retain a little bit of your freedom, but you would damage your reputation. It wasn’t exactly ideal to be regarded as a jilt, much less to a man like Mr Nakamoto, who had many women in your town lining up for him. Weighing your other potential suitors, you weren’t sure if being married to a man older than your father was a better option.

Almost unconsciously, your thoughts wandered to Jaehyun, the feelings you associated with him— or more accurately, how different these feelings were from the ones you associated with Yuta.

It was starting to make you anxious, you realised that as you exchanged letters with him for a while now, he had grown on you more than you realised. The way you felt at the receiving end of his attentiveness. The way he seemed to read into your signals and cues and meet you where you were without expecting you to be perfect. The way he made you hopeful that you could find love… and perhaps wishful that you could find it in him.

You were anxious, because when you thought of Jaehyun, what was coming to mind wasn’t his credentials, his wealth, his family, or his status. But rather, it was him , the blunt yet gentle, aloof yet attentive, hardened yet tender-hearted person that he was.

You were anxious, because even as you were being told about your perfect prospect of marriage, you found that you only ached for him ; the man who was maybe a stranger to your textbook gentleman, but not a stranger to you.

You took in a deep breath, setting your teacup down with shaky hands, standing up and letting out the breath you were holding.

Use your words.

“I’m not feeling too well,” you murmured softly enough that you knew your voice wouldn’t give way, “please, excuse me.”

You struggled up the stairs, finding it difficult to focus on anything other than the way your heart was pounding and your head was starting to spin. Eventually, you found yourself at your desk, writing materials ready and already finding yourself addressing the only person you could think of at this moment.

‘Dear J,

My parents have been talking to me about pursuing a marriage with Mr Nakamoto, and in the position that I am, I am inclined to accept.’

===

This time, you didn’t receive a reply from Jaehyun. Previous times, you could always be sure that his reply would not take longer than a week. But this time was different, as the flowers Yuta continued to send withered and were replaced, there was no news of any mail for you. Even your sister was starting to grow concerned at the way things were going, starting to display Yuta’s flowers in places you wouldn’t pass as often when you were going about your daily routine. But you noticed, the flowers Yuta gave you were always light, bright colours in delicate blooms; nothing like the bigger blooms your sister tended to get.

The waiting was the worst this time, and you knew why. It was different this time, knowing you were anticipating his reply for different reasons. You couldn’t hide behind boredom, or curiosity as to how he would respond to your questions and words. This time your anticipation lay in hope, in your ache, and that was the worst kind of anticipation for you. Girls like you couldn’t hope, you had far too many responsibilities. You needed to be pragmatic, realistic, practical. There was no room for hope in your heart, yet you found that it was all you were doing these days.

Hoping that wherever he was, he was safe. Hoping that wherever he was, there wasn’t a perfect girl who was discovering if his touch could turn her worries into gold. Hoping that wherever he was, he was thinking of you.

You hoped it wasn’t too late.

The longer you waited, the more foolish you felt. Pouring your heart out to him in your letters like that when there was no real guarantee that he would feel the same way, when there was no real guarantee that he would take Yuta’s place.

As conversations about responsibilities, about being a good wife to Yuta had started to intensify, you gave yourself no choice but to bottle up the anxiety you felt, directing it inwards till you felt it start to take a toll on your mind.

There was a knock at your door before the door opened with a soft click, seeing your sister walk in carrying a vase containing new flowers, white lilies that filled your room with a scent that comforted you just slightly in your fatigue.

Setting the vase down carefully, your sister turned, stopping in her tracks when she realised you were awake, the slightest of frowns on her features, “Sorry, I hope I didn’t wake you.”

You shook your head, a sigh leaving you as you stretched your arms over your head, “I was already awake a long time ago, don’t worry.”

Padding over to your bed to take a seat next to your legs, her body angled towards you and her hand smoothing over the blanket that covered you, her gaze scanned your appearance.

“Still nothing?” You asked, earning a small sigh from her.

“Nothing,” she shook her head. Pausing, she shook her head, “maybe the letters just got lost in the mail?”

You let out a sigh through your nose, shifting your gaze to the Lilies perched next to your window, the light seeping through the glass making you almost dread the day that was to come. Another day spent waiting.

“I would like to believe that, but I've sent far too many letters to him to believe that,” you murmured, “perhaps it was foolish of me, you know?”

Her frown deepened, “What was?”

“Thinking that I could actually find a love match. Thinking that I could develop an affection for the viscount and remain unscathed,” you huffed, bitterness laced in your words that left an unpleasant aftertaste in your mouth.

Your sister hummed, “Do you think it is the affection you feel for him that is what is hurting you? Or the absence of this affection for Mr Nakamoto?”

There it was again, the wave that washed over you and forced you into sobriety, the ache for the rest that went beyond physical things that you were starting to give up trying to satisfy. You supposed when push comes to shove, you would find something to love in Yuta, you would simply have to.

“It’s been more than a month, sister. I cannot… I cannot afford to wait for him much longer. I cannot afford to keep avoiding Mr Nakamoto.”

She sighed, “I know. Father has been meeting him to discuss your marriage arrangement for a while now.”

Somehow, that was enough to solidify your decision for you, as reluctant as you were. Saying yes to Yuta’s proposal… perhaps it would be a wise decision in your trying and trying to earn the affections of your father. It would be wise for you to do what is pleasing to your family. It would be wise for you to be obedient, to continue to be dependable for them.

You heard the click of the lock, the door opening to reveal your mother, “Mr Nakamoto is here, dear. He has requested a private audience with you.”

Exchanging a knowing look with your sister, you nodded.

“Give me a moment to make myself presentable. I shall be down shortly,” you murmured, seeing your sister still wearing that same look of concern as you got out of bed, your mother leaving and shutting the door.

Getting ready, you stared yourself down in the mirror, glancing between yourself and the sight of your sister behind you on your bed, a now unreadable expression on her face.

“I’m not going to refuse when he asks,” you murmured, more for yourself than for her.

Perhaps she knew this, because the nod she gave you was all you needed to give you the little bit of conviction that you would go through with this, for your family’s sake.

===

Perfection was subjective, you knew this now. You knew it for a fact as you lay in bed, your head spinning and your heart feeling heavy, a week since Yuta had left town for business after your engagement.

The stress of it all was getting to you, the ache in your heart for rest, the ache to not have to be ‘on’ and be present to all the people and things that demanded your attention, the pressure you were putting on yourself to be the person your parents expected you to be, or maybe who you expected yourself to be, the ache to be able to depend on someone other than yourself.

You couldn’t even shake the fact that you were still wondering about Jaehyun, the last bit of desperation in you used to hope that he would return soon. It was amusing, considering that his return would probably be worse because you were already betrothed to another man. Somehow, you were still eager to write to him, asking your sister to help to pen down your messages because you were too weak to get out of bed. At least when you did this, you could say you still tried at the end of the day, because trying was what you were familiar with.

You could barely get yourself out of bed, wanting nothing more than to sleep away your days as you waited for Yuta to return, for him to seal your fate with your marriage. Each day, your sister would come in and attempt to get you to eat, but you couldn’t find it in you to have an appetite, simply eating a few bites to appease her before you were allowed to sleep the time away before your next meal.

Little did you know that your waiting for Yuta was in vain.

Jaehyun almost thought he was hallucinating when he heard the sound of a familiar laughter echoing a few tables away from him at the bar he was at with Johnny. “Do you recognise him?” Johnny asked, evident disdain in his tone and the pointedness of his glare, earning a confused look from Jaehyun.

“Who?”

“That man over there, the conman, Nakamoto Yuta? was his name if i recall correctly,” Johnny gestured with his head to the source of the laughter, Jaehyun’s eyes narrowing when he realised that the man sitting at that table was very much familiar, and very much Yuta.

“Conman?” Jaehyun murmured, a sinking feeling in his stomach as he observed the woman next to him, the Rubies she adorned on her neck identical to the ones he saw you wearing at the soirée.

Johnny nodded, using his finger to trace the mouth of his glass, “I recognise him from my time in Paris. You see the woman next to him? Remember how I told you Rubies were popular among the women there?” Johnny gestured to his neck, “It took me a while, but I realised it was only because that was his trademark. Like a branding for the women he was set on cheating for their money in exchange for his affection.”

Jaehyun frowned. Did that make you one of Yuta’s targets, then?

“Are you familiar with his methods?”

“Too familiar, I wish I wasn’t,” Johnny sighed, “He tried the same thing on my cousin. You know, all these young girls looking for the perfect husband. He paints himself out to be little less than a saint, and they eat it up. The prince charming that came to sweep them off their feet when in actual fact his occupation is never revealed, his life is a series of carefully constructed lies that differ depending on who he’s talking to… he strung my cousin along for ages, doing ‘business dealings’ with my uncle that landed him in debt that my father had to pay off.”

“And your cousin?”

Johnny knocked back the rest of the alcohol in his glass, “Heartbroken, obviously. Once he had his fill of her and her family’s money he left without a single warning.”

“Couldn’t you file a suit against him for that?” Jaehyun’s mind was racing with questions, with a growing worry for you, especially since the last letter he’d received from you was talking about your likely marriage to Yuta.

“And what about the women? Wouldn’t they have warned each other by now? Isn’t it obvious when everyone’s receiving the same thing—the Rubies and flowers and all—from him?” Jaehyun continued, earning a deep sigh from Johnny.

“That’s the thing. She was too in love with him by then, she insisted that we couldn’t go after him. Plus, by the time he was done with them, they didn’t have enough money to file a suit even if they wanted to.”

“I mean, who wouldn’t want to be the centre of attention of a doting, romantic, young , attractive young man?” Johnny let out a bitter laugh, “You of all people should know it’s all business. When someone like Yuta comes along, he brings the fantasy of a desirable love match with him. It was never about what they were receiving, but who they were receiving it from. The perfect prince charming he made himself out to be.”

Johnny glanced over at Yuta with a sigh before raising his hand to catch the server’s attention to order another drink.

At Jaehyun’s lack of a response, Johnny noticed his friend’s face paling, his gaze fixed on the table looking deep in thought, “What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?”

“The girl,” Jaehyun rasped, clearing his throat and blinking his eyes harshly, “the one I sent the letter to…”

“Yeah? Didn’t you say she was getting engaged?” Johnny hummed, earning a grim nod from Jaehyun.

“It was supposed to be to him .”

Johnny’s lips parted, exchanging a knowing look with Jaehyun. He wasn’t daft, he knew Jaehyun’s affections for this girl ran deep, deeper than he let on.

“I… I need to go back,” he said finally, “I hope you can understand.”

At this, Johnny let out a laugh, an incredulous look on his face.

“Finally! I was wondering when you’d come to your senses.”

“Huh?” Jaehyun’s stare was blank, confusion written all over his face.

“ I’m not the one keeping you here… I think we both know that,” Johnny spoke slowly, nodding at Jaehyun, the latter who was already trying to form a mental estimate of how long it would take him to get to you.

“God, I feel so…”

“Foolish?” Johnny offered with a smile, earning a glare from Jaehyun.

“I can’t believe I was going to sit here and do nothing while she gets cheated by that man,” Jaehyun brought a hand up to wipe his face harshly.

Taking a sip of his drink, Johnny huffed, “Want me to hit him for you?”

Jaehyun scoffed, “Not if I get to him first.”

“I’ll tell them to prepare your carriage for tomorrow morning, you’ll be back in three days at most,” Johnny spoke calmly, amusement still lingering in his smile as he observed Jaehyun’s lost expression, the viscount seeming too blinded by the rage he felt towards Yuta to think clearly.

Johnny grunted, waving his hands in dismissal, “Don’t waste your time with him, go to your girl first.”

Jaehyun wasn’t sure what he was picturing when he imagined returning to you. He got your letters, every single one of them. He read every word to the point where he was sure he knew them by heart. Your letters told him about the town, about who had gotten engaged, gossip from the flower market, about the weather, the balls you attended. From the letters alone, he would have figured you were doing perfectly fine.

What he hadn’t expected was to have your sister answer the door and look at him as though he’d grown a second head.

“My parents aren’t here,” you informed before he could greet you, earning a huff from him.

“Sorry for uh… for paying such an unexpected visit, but… I was wondering if I could see your sister?”

Your sister thought to you, lying in bed grieving the loss of a future she dreamed of, wondering if the viscount’s presence here would put an end to that grief.

“She’s… sick.”

Jaehyun’s eyebrows furrowed, “Sick? With what?”

“Heartbreak, I suppose,” your sister replied tersely, giving him a pointed stare, unsure what to make of Jaehyun’s intentions.

Jaehyun’s eyebrows lifted, his thoughts immediately going to Yuta and feeling himself start to bubble with the same rage and concern that brought him here. Most of all, love.

“You can stay here, I’ll check if she’s willing to see you,” she spoke, still eyeing him cautiously as she led Jaehyun into the house, stopping him at the stairwell as she made her way to your room.

“Sister,” she knocked on the door, opening it and peeping her head in, whispering harshly with wild eyes, “The viscount is here!”

Your head snapped up from your pillow abruptly, only to fall back onto your pillow in immediate regret as it throbbed and pounded. Your headache was torturing you, but for Jaehyun, you supposed you were willing to brave through it.

“Okay. He can come up, but you have to stay in the room with us,” you said as firmly as you could.

Your sister hummed, turning to leave the room.

“Not unless he requests a private audience…” she murmured lowly, earning a glare from you (futile as it was, since she’d already left the room).

Jaehyun was more than impatient to see you, but the sight of you tucked under the covers of your bed, a cloth and small basin next to your bedside and the cold sweat on your face made his heart ache.

He wasn’t sure how to place himself as he entered the room, choosing to stand in front of the side of your bed you were facing, his lips curling ever so slightly in amusement when you had turned your body to face away from him.

“What happened to you?” his voice came out almost breathless, with traces of exasperation.

You didn’t want to open your eyes and look at him, you didn’t think your resolve would last if you could see the look of concern and frustration on his face he held now.

“Nothing,” you murmured. So much for ‘using your words’.

“Stress,” your sister cut in, earning a sigh from Jaehyun.

“I came because… I wanted to warn you,” Jaehyun almost winced, his words not coming out how he’d planned.

“ To warn me? ” your tone was strong even in your weakness, “not because you promised you would come back?”

Jaehyun shook his head, “I… look, you can’t go ahead with the engagement with Mr Nakamoto.”

You frowned.

“And what makes you think you can tell me what to do about my future?”

Jaehyun was growing frustrated now, “I’m not, but even if I was, I wouldn’t be the first one telling you what to do with your future,” he said pointedly.

“Why are you meddling? I never asked you to get involved,” you felt like a stubborn child, but you were more upset at the fact that it was him of all people, advising you not to marry Yuta.

You supposed that was what you wanted when you’d sent him that letter, but a very belated form of it, showing up in front of you now.

“My apologies, I did not ask for your permission,” he scoffed, “that isn’t the issue here, Ms Y/L/N, you cannot proceed with this engagement.”

“Perhaps your warning would be of more use if you’d sent it sooner in a letter,” you huffed.

You knew this was the sulky side of you speaking now, but it was the truth. Did he think he could simply waltz into your bedroom after months of silence, tell you not to marry the man you were engaged to and expect you to comply graciously?

“I don’t need your help with my marriage.”

“Marriage?”

Your sister wanted to avert her gaze, the tension in the room growing thicker by the minute, but it was impossible to look away, with the viscount looking unlike she could ever imagine seeing him. Desperate, frustrated, emotional . Nothing like anyone knew him to be.

“We’re already engaged,” you murmured, as if reluctant to solidify the truth by speaking it into existence.

“Besides, like I said. If I needed your… interference—”

“Help,” he corrected, earning an eye roll from you (not that he could see it, your eyes still being closed).

“Fine, help. If I needed it, I would have asked.”

“Is help only given when it is needed?”

You huffed, the bubbling of frustration within your chest growing stronger as you called to mind your emotions for the past few months.

“It definitely seems to be otherwise when it’s coming from you. Needed or not, I’d rather not have your help at all,” you forced your eyes open, immediately regretting it when you turned your head to meet his gaze.

Desperate, frustrated, emotional.

“You don’t mean that, I’m trying to warn you. You don’t know what kind of man he truly is.”

"Consider me warned,” your gaze was as firm as you could muster, not finding any reason to withdraw when it came to Jaehyun. This was yourself, in all that you were feeling.

“Don't patronise me. You don’t know what he’s capable of.” You almost faltered, almost . A small nagging fear started to creep up on you, telling you that you’ve made a grave mistake with Yuta.

“And you do?” you asked, slowly shifting yourself so you could see him better, unsure if you were being spiteful or curious now, maybe both.

“Better than you, it seems,” he huffed, taking a step closer to your bed, your sister pressing herself against the wall as if that would help the tension in the room, shifting her weight from foot to foot as she watched the dynamic between you and Jaehyun unfold.

It was nothing compared to how she saw you and Yuta interact, but something about this was interesting. It was like the both of you were simply hiding behind your true feelings, masking it with frustration and beating around the bush, focusing on unimportant details because you were both too afraid to be the first one to reveal your heart.

“And where is this understanding coming from?"

Jaehyun visibly hesitated, sighing before he told you the truth, "Johnny and I saw him when we were travelling."

“Johnny?” you frowned, “Oh, you mean the marquess that dares not show his face in this town?”

Again, the focus on unnecessary details to prolong the time before you had to finally face up to what you really wanted to hear and say.

“His title is not who he is,” was all Jaehyun could muster, feeling the tension in the room as he continued to hold your gaze.

“And by that same logic, I can say you don’t know my partner any better than I do,” you shrugged, the words sounding unfamiliar even as you said it.

That seemed to strike a nerve with Jaehyun, his tone rising slightly in his urgency and frustration.

“Would you stop calling him that? He’s not going to come back! You know why—?”

“What would you rather me call him then? My husband-to-be ?”

“—he’s too busy conning and cheating people like your parents in other towns for money now. Your family is going to be left in debt because of that man.” Though Jaehyun wasn’t shouting, his tone was filled with such urgency, such firmness, that he might as well have been. The implication of his words echoed louder than anything, louder than the sound of your heart picking up speed.

Your silence spoke for you, feeling as though a large wave had just washed over you and pulled you under. Your heart continued to thump quickly as you struggled to regain your bearings, as you struggled to gain control over yourself. Only one thought rang in your head, your mother had already given Yuta your dowry before he disappeared.

You glanced at your sister, her debut would need to be delayed now. Your family couldn’t afford to muster up another dowry so soon, not when you hadn’t gotten married yet.

“Now do you understand why I needed to come and warn you?” his tone softened, and without realising he began to make his way closer to you, daring himself to look closely at you in your shock, processing what he was feeling at the sight of it. Which, at the moment, could only be described as wanting to pull you out from under the waves, to dive in and look for you so he could bring you to the surface.

“I cannot—” he stopped himself, shaking his head, “I will not watch you let yourself be humiliated, waiting for that… that liar ."

Something in your gaze was hurt, vulnerable as you looked at him, wondering how he could say such words with such confidence when he was the one you were waiting for this whole time.

“I am not a stranger to waiting, you of all people should know that very well,” you said.

Jaehyun’s expression softened, still brushing aside what he wanted to say to you, his thoughts focused on how you must be feeling to find out you’ve just been conned by your fiancé.

“Why do you think I came here?” he asked, and the reminder that his purpose here was to warn you and not for other reasons was a bitter pill to swallow, so this bitterness showed in your response.

“In hopes to annoy me to death, perhaps.”

At his lack of a response, you frowned, “…. Why aren’t you saying anything? I expected a witty remark by now.”

What you didn’t expect was for Jaehyun to sigh, something in his expression akin to tenderness, which didn’t make sense to you at the moment. But it was a very tenderness that you always wondered about, what he reserved it for, how it would show, how it would feel. It seems all of those questions were answered now as you looked at him.

“Where do you think that man is? Right now, while you’re in this condition. Where do you think this man that you’re set on marrying will be after hearing of your sickness?” His tongue peeked out to wet his lips, though even if your attention was momentarily diverted, nothing could tear it away from his gaze. As though he had a million things to say to you, hidden inside of him, and you were only catching glimpses of it through his eyes. Yet they still managed to be gleaming, twinkling, pulling you out from under the waves.

“Yet here you are… destroying yourself for somebody who is incapable of loving you in the way you deserve,” he spoke almost bitterly, and the (not so) little hope within you had begun to surface again. Courage to make your feelings known, and hope that they would be received.

Jaehyun let his gaze shift to the way your hand lay on top of your covers, holding the fabric close to yourself for some sense of comfort. It surprised him, the way he wished he could hold you, to embrace you in his own comfort. The thought came naturally to him, as if that was his body’s natural response, to want you to be able to receive that from him and for him to give his love and affection freely to you.

“I’m sorry, I know it must be a lot to process. He had me believing his act too, I… should’ve asked Johnny sooner, if I did then you would not have to face such grief now—”

“It’s not about him,” you spoke, hoping your voice wasn’t quivering with how you were on the brink of tears, frustrated that you couldn’t tell what he felt for you even now, but filled with hope that you were sure you couldn’t hold your feelings within you much longer, “it was never about waiting for him, or… grieving for the loss of him .”

Jaehyun fell silent, lips parted slightly in shock as he held your gaze, your pleading eyes meeting his.

“Do you really think all these months have been for that man?”

“I wrote to you endlessly ,” your frown deepened, the ache in your heart worsening when you saw the way Jaehyun’s gaze softened, moving closer to you but stopping himself with evident restraint before he could get too close, “even when I could barely move myself out of my room the only thought on my mind was that I needed my words to reach you somehow, I needed some part of me to reach you… somehow.”

Your vision blurred, making you blink harshly. The fact that you couldn’t see him clearly behind your tears disconcerted you, “What else was I supposed to think when I didn’t hear back? What other choice did I have?”

Jaehyun paused, remembering your sister’s presence in the room, deciding that now would be the time where he stops dancing around the reason why he truly came back to see you.

“May I…” he turned to face your sister, “have the honour of a private audience with your sister?”

Her eyes widened, fighting the smile that threatened to show on her face as she gave you a knowing look, averting her gaze as her hand came up to cover her mouth, nodding. Gesturing a hand to you, she already began leaving the room, “Of course, of course. By all means.”

“As much as you may think I hate you, or… am here to meddle in your life or annoy you… I don’t like seeing you like this. I do not wish to see you in pain,” he let out a sigh through his nose, taking another step closer to your bed, daring himself to take a seat next to your legs, his body moving naturally as though this was what it meant to simply allow himself to be. Like muscle memory.

You huffed, “I’ve always been good at masking it, I suppose.”

He shook his head, displeased, “Or nobody has bothered asking if you needed to be relieved.”

“I’m sorry I did not write back to you. I just… in retrospect now I realise it was foolish of me but… from all your letters I just assumed,” he brought a hand up to run through his hair in frustration, “I assumed you were perfectly fine with Yuta. I had no right coming back and disrupting that, as much as I wanted to.”

“Believe me, I wanted to,” he huffed, “and it surprised me because, well, it was strange. It felt like you were seeing me for who I was… as if I was known for more than my wealth, my appearance, for everything in myself that was not perfect. But with you, it wasn't a matter of having to try to earn love, but to re-learn what love is, what it feels like.”

Your throat felt dry, something about his honesty making the ache in your heart grow, feeling as though what you sought to satisfy this ache was within reach, yet still at a loss for what it was that you desired.

"I did not know how to convey that in my letters. No words were enough, nothing... nothing was quite satisfying enough in expressing what I wanted to say to you. The thought of hiding what I felt beneath enquiries about the weather or about Mr Nakamoto made me sick to my stomach. That kind of intimacy that I felt when I was with you... It scared me because it only made me wish for more. I didn't think it was what you wanted."

“I thought that I could just separate myself from the situation, to resolve it that way before it could hurt me, but it was only when I saw that man when I was with Johnny that I realised,” his gaze flickered between your eyes and his hands, returning to your eyes and meeting you with that same hope.

Hope that gleamed, twinkled, that was not rooted in fear but in love.

“You deserved more than him, the love that you allowed me to discover was very much possible… the love you deserve. It would hurt me more if I had to watch you forgo that for the sake of others.”

Use your words.

“What do you suppose is this love that I deserve?” you dared to ask, somehow the use of your words did not feel as manipulative as it always did, it did not feel like you were trying to hide behind them this time, but to let your heart be known through them.

Jaehyun remained firm, and this conviction was enough to make you feel like you were slowly being lifted up to the surface of the water, the light seeping through the water making your surroundings feel brighter.

“... a love that remains forever.”

You weren’t sure if you were breathing, feeling the water get lighter as you followed the light from his eyes.

“And you suppose that is within reach for me?” your voice was barely above a murmur.

Jaehyun nodded, the hint of desperation lingering in his tone, “I promise you, it is within reach.”

“You cannot promise me a forever and not give it to me.”

There was a hint of amusement in Jaehyun’s gaze, the slightest of smiles on his face at your response. He wished you would remain this way, unafraid to use your voice with him, unafraid to assert yourself, to allow him to see, know and love you for who you are.

“I would not have mentioned it if I were not ready to give it to you at this very moment.”

Your lips parted slightly, “How do you suppose you will do that?”

Jaehyun wore the tell-tale expression that let you know he thought of something that either pleased or amused him, as if waiting for the right timing to say his smart line with a smug tone.

“By… asking you to marry me.”

If you thought his eyes gleamed and twinkled before, the smile that he wore when he saw the sheer relief grace your features. The feeling of being pulled above the surface of the water.

“It’s not too much to ask, just… be with me. Depend on someone other than yourself for a change.”

“My Lord, you know—” you began, turning your head abruptly and immediately regretting your sudden movements, your head beginning to throb even more. Jaehyun shocked you with the way he adjusted your pillow, helping you to lower your head back down onto the pillow carefully, smoothing your hair away from where it stuck to your face from your cold sweat.

“I want you to,” he nodded.

It was strange, being told that someone wanted you to depend on them when you were always used to being the one who was depended on. Instead of promising you gold, he was promising you the warmth of it, the value of it. Not the ‘Midas touch’ that took life away from things, but one that brought light and hope.

You wanted this . Not your long, tedious game, but the life he was offering you, a life of love, love even in imperfection, love that brought with it rest, love that was a state and not something to earn.

You nodded, “I want to…” your body felt warm under his touch, your gaze following his movements as he picked up the cloth draped over the small basin next to your bedside, wringing the cloth after wetting it and using it to dab the sweat from your face and neck.

You felt as though you weren’t breathing, a wave of emotion rushing through you at the feeling of being under his care. It was as though he was removing the little bandage you used to cover the ache that you felt, replacing it with a bandage that fit, one that wrapped around the ache instead of just trying to suppress it.

“I want to marry you,” was all you could muster, Jaehyun letting out a huff of amusement as he set the cloth aside, his left hand moving to your face, letting the pads of his fingertips trace the side of your face before letting his thumb smooth over your cheek gently. It was unmistakable, the feel of the calluses on his fingertips from what you assumed was his recent playing of the violin.

“Does my presence have that much of an effect on you?” he drawled, smugness laced in his tone as he brought you back to your exchange in your father’s study. His gaze flickering to your lips just briefly, making your heart skip in a way you’d never experienced before.

You rolled your eyes with affection, this time not feeling the need to ‘use your words’ to hide once again.

“Perhaps it does.”

===

‘My forever only, Time and time again, I am reminded that I was foolish to think I could live the rest of my life without you when a day that passes by when I am not with you is filled with a longing I cannot imagine I could ever grow comfortable with, much less befriend.

Back then, I was used to being all alone. I found this solitude to be a companion, though loneliness is never a good lover. The sky gets ethereal for the things no longer living in chains. You allowed me to come to know what that truly meant, what it truly felt like. Love given freely is all I have to offer you, so I hope you’ll have me.

My love, I have not stopped thinking of the way you look at me, and each time I awake I find myself waiting for when I may be under your gaze again. The thought lingers before I am with you, filling me with an inexplicable feeling of love that refuses to leave even when we part. Forever sounds daunting but when I envision a forever of this love that you meet me with in your eyes, your smile, your presence, it becomes a boundless sea I wish to swim in for as long as my spirit exists.

All I ask of you, all I want is having you in my day. To keep you in safety, health, and love.

- J, your forever only.’

“Do you remember what was discussed?”

You were drawn from your thoughts, your sister handing you the bouquet of dark red roses as you started walking.

What did you discuss?

Right.

Be yourself. You felt the crunch of cobblestone beneath your feet as you made your way with your sister to the church. You are allowed to launch into unrelated discourses out of panic. You fixed your gloves so they fit comfortably around your hands and arms. Have good manners, unless provoked. You could hear your sister humming to the piano piece she’d been practising that morning. You are safe to express yourself. With the sound of her humming, the rustling of the big trees overhead and the wind caressing your face gently comforted you.

Reaching the doors of the chapel, you spotted your father who awaited you, though you couldn’t focus on anything else once the doors opened, your gaze immediately finding the man who stood at the altar, a smile adorning his face once he met your gaze. A wave of clarity washed over you; you felt peaceful.

There he was, not a marriage partner, not an economic proposer .

Jaehyun, your love match.

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2hopatz · 1 year

Text

Love Belt - Choi Jongho

Genre: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, happy ending :D

Warnings: Jealousy, Crying, Ghosting, Kissing, College D:, Cursing, Tooth Rotting Fluff

Word Count: 2.3k exactly WE UP!!

Pairing: c. jh x gender non-specified reader

(a/n): hiiii~ I was like, super sad the other day and kept listening to love belt on repeat for hours. so I decided to write this. I recommend listening to Love Belt for this fanfic, but who knows, maybe I'll make a playlist for every fanfic! Enjoy~ Mwah!

“I just don’t understand why he is so angry over me having a new study partner, we don’t even have the same classes anymore!” you rant to your best friend frantically, your hands moving just as fast as your mouth.

“Do you think you’re spending too much time in the studio, and Jongho is jealous or something? I mean, even I’ve noticed your study sessions turning into full-blown study nights,” Mel was trying desperately to calm you down, especially knowing how dramatic you can be at times. She just couldn’t believe that Jongho, of all people, would be the one ignoring you, “ He has been busy lately too, maybe he is just tired, or maybe your schedules don’t match up well.”

“I know his schedule by heart, which is also why I know that he has been ignoring me. I’ve tried to meet up with him every day this week dammit! The thing is, I haven’t done anything new besides study with Hyunjin these days,” the stress from the previous two weeks spills out of your mouth, and your fingers go cold despite the warm drink in your hands.

“It’s only been two weeks, and next week is finals week. He could be studying, take a breath friend. Breaking down in a cafe would make you so embarrassed later,” Mel’s hand rested on your shoulder as you let out a breathy laugh.

“I don’t know Mel. He has never been this distant, not for two weeks at least. Maybe a day, maybe even a week, but he would always come back to talk it out,” the blood rushing in your ears and the lump sitting heavy in your throat made it apparent how affected you were by his absence. Even if you wanted to act unbothered, you couldn’t. It was Jongho after all, how can you be calm when you feel you’ve just lost your home over a damned study partner?

“It just feels absent without him around me for this long. I feel like everything I lay eyes on is tarnished. This is just stressful, and for what?” Mel sighs, her arms wrapping around your shoulders and squeezing you tight. You lean into her touch, chasing the fleeting sense of relief it gives you. Still, your heart wrenches with loneliness as a memory of Jongho’s smile invades your consciousness.

“I know, hun. How about you try again tonight, hm? Ask him to come over.”

“I have to paint with Hyujin tonight. I have my final project due next week and I’m struggling with the perspective view of the buildings. Ughhh and the reflections are absolutely going to kill me on top of my analysis of-” Mel throws you a scathing look, and you take it as your clue to stop spiraling about things you had to do.

“You have time to do those later. Jongho may need you now, so what do I say?”

“Focus first on what matters to me, and everything will fall into place. My finals do matter… but I have all week to study. I need to see Jongho tonight. Thank you Mel.” She smiled, raising a hand perpendicular to your face.

“No need to thank me love, 'cause you’re paying for my coffee! Mwah!”

“I take everything back. Seonghwa likes girls who pay for their own coffee, he told me himself for real.”

“Nice try, I may be drunk in love, but I’m not stupid in love,” giggling, you two went up to the register to pay. You’re day felt a bit brighter now that you had a plan, and a beloved (albeit mischievous) friend to share it with.

. . .

‘Jongho, we need to talk. Now, actually.’

tdybear

‘Thought u had to study. With Hyunjin.’

‘Cancelled. I wanted to talk with you.’

tdybear

‘I’m studyin rn. Can we talk later?’

‘U can keep playing the avoidance game Jongho,

but we’ll both end up losing. I’m not trying again,

and I’m not finna reschedule nun.’

tdybear

‘Where r u?’

‘apartment.’

read 20:43

You threw your phone down on the bed with a sigh of frustration. One thing you’d come to learn throughout the years was just how stubborn Jongho could get. In truth, you couldn’t help but be a little frustrated with the fact that this was all over a fucking study buddy. Hyunjin and you had been acquaintances since your freshman year, yet now is when the issue starts? It was all so confusing. Still, there was that part of you that relished in the fact that Jongho was coming, because he didn’t want to lose you. If your heart was a glass, what had been a quarter full for the last two weeks is overflowing. You wanted to see his face.

You keep pacing around the room, swimming in a pool of your disturbances. You are so frustrated, the lump in your throat being a telltale sign of incoming tears. Your heart is beating impossibly fast, and when you hear the doorbell ring out from the living room, it is like seeing the sun rise over the horizon after a lifetime of living in the dark.

When you open the door, all you can see is him. All you can feel is him, and as angry as you want to be; you greet him with a warm smile and a hug that lasts all too long, and he does the same. Just for a moment, everything is normal.

. . .

For all of the affection you had given each other at the door, the tension that filled your living room after was miasmic. You both sat awkwardly on the loveseat, periodically shifting around.

‘I can’t take this anymore. I'M GOING INSANE HERE!’

“So, did you want to talk to me about something? Did something happen?” You could have burst a blood vessel right there.

“Did something happen? Jongho, pray tell. When was the last time you saw me?”

“About… two weeks ago…” The silence that followed was deadly, and all you could do was cross your legs and look at him. Shifting on the couch, he fiddled with his fingers before clearing his throat awkwardly.

“Look… I’ve been… busy. You know how demanding my major is.”

“I’m an artist, and I always have time for you. Art and music are quite close in workload and nature, are they not?”

“You’ve been busy too, with Hyunjin. I didn’t want to interrupt you two.”

“I invited you over when Hyunjin wasn’t even here.”

“He’s been here? I thought you only worked in the studio.”

“He may be my study buddy, but he is also my friend. A friend which I was desperately in need of for the past two weeks.” He huffed at that, his cheeks and ears slowly warming, until even his nose was pink. He was frustrated. You were losing your patience, and he could tell by the glare cutting into the side of his head.

“Look, if you don’t want to talk to me, for whatever reason, tell me. I’m tired of going back and forth with myself about what I did or how you feel. I have my own life, and whether or not you want to be a part of it is your choice,” you said simply getting up from the couch to open the door. Though part of you was sure he would stay, the other part was petrified that he would get up and leave. If that door closes and he isn’t in the room, you think that your heart will stop beating. Or the world will stop turning.

“Wait… do you promise not to think I’m an idiot?”

“No,” you fight a smile as you sat back down beside him, a supernova of hope going off in your heart. He smiles, and you see colors for the first time in two weeks. His laugh invades your senses, and you smell the cologne he always puts on after he showers; for a moment, you are home. Then the room went silent, and all you could do was hold out your pinky.

“I promise.” He sighs when his pinky loops into yours, holding onto it, and putting your hand in his lap. You pray he can’t hear the way your breath hitches, and he hopes you can’t feel how fast his heart is beating.

“Did you miss me at all? When you were with him?”

“I miss you every second my hand isn’t in yours.”

“I feel like an idiot.”

“Why?” His fingers intertwine with yours as he caresses the back of your palm.

“I saw how happy you looked beside him, how similar you guys are. How much he can really help you. I mean, he’s an artist. For the first time in my life, I was scared that you would leave me. I know, we’re just college friends, we may be bound to lose contact in the future. But the thought… I just can’t take it. So, I left first. I wanted to prove that I could live without you.” He is gripping your hand now, his head hung low. His breath hitches loudly, and for the first time in years, you see him cry. Your voice coos out, as your free arm wraps around him.

“Fuck…” You sniffle as the lump in your throat reaches a fever pitch, “well… can you?”

“...No.” When he says that, something in you shatters and rebuilds itself, so many emotions flood you at once, and it wrenches a sob out of you.

“Don’t cry…”

“You’re one to talk…” and suddenly the sobs are mixed with laughter. The world is so much brighter when he is around.

“I’m sorry. I’m too jealous and too headstrong. If you were to be in love with him, I would still want to be in your life. Even if it means I won’t be able to talk to you as much. I swear that if the world ended, I would only need you to survive.”

“In love with him?” you giggled, tears still escaping your eyes, “Why would I be in love with Hyunjin?”

“I don’t know… your similarities. How soft he is around you. He makes affection with you look so easy.”

“That’s just what he is like Jongho. Even if Hyunjin were to have feelings for me, which I guarantee he doesn’t, I still would have to reject him. No one could ever compare to the way you make me feel. The way you make me hurt.” Three words burn in your throat, as you eyed Jongho’s reaction. You want nothing more than to feel his lips on yours. You burn for him.

“You don’t like him?”

“He’s nothing more than a friend to me.”

“What am I to you?” You smiled nervously as silence settled in the air.

“You first,” shifting softly in your arms, he looks at you with confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“I want to hear you say it Jongho. After all, I didn’t avoid you. Write me a song. Tell me how you feel.” You smiled mischievously, leaning into him. Suddenly, his hand is untangling from yours, opting to gently massage the crest of your hip.

“You’re such a bully.” He is inches from you now, you can feel his breath. Was time always this slow? You’re getting too impatient.

“Tell me, Choi Jongho, what am I to you?”

“...You’re the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. I want to make lyrics that only you understand. I want to sing songs that only you can hear. I want to be yours, in every sense. All I want in return is your love, your time, and your patience. Without you, I’m a fish out of water. I need you like the current needs the moon. I want to dress you in the rings of Saturn, I want to form your name from the remnants of stars. The divine was inspired by you. All I’ve ever wanted was you. I’ve needed a lot of things, but none of those things matter without you.” He was pulling you closer now, his hand sliding to your waist, his eyes flickering from your lips to your eyes. Brown had always been your favorite color, it was the color of everything warm. It was home. You had loved him long before you knew him.

“Every painting has been dedicated to you, Jongho. I need the yellows of your warmth, the reds of your anger, the blues of your sadness, the greens of your jealousy. Every color I’ve ever painted has been you, every color I could never imagine is you. You are the sun and the grass. The mystery of the forests and the deepest seas. Paint me with your love. All I want from you is you. Unadulterated, unfiltered, and untethered. I may not be as eloquent as you; my art comes in form of pictures, not words. I could paint you in colors I’ve never seen, but they are so familiar to me. You are so familiar to me. You are my home. Your love is better than any pigment, and I need you just like you need me. I need your lips on mine. I will be your willing canvas.”

Finally, your lips meet, and you feel the universe in his touch. He tastes like chocolate. You are burning in his grasp, yet you are the most comfortable you have ever been. When you pull away for air, he chases you, eyes low, irises painting the world brown. You place a finger to his lips with a laugh, and he sighs, hands cupping your hand, and kisses your finger. You feel red hot. His eyes open fully, taking in the sight of you.

“You are my stars, my asteroids, my planets. You’re my love belt.”

#ssolphite #choi jongho #jongho #ateez fic #ateez #ateez jongho #ateez fluff #fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #jongho fluff

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noxexistant · 11 months

Note

🤝👴🩸🎟️😈

thank u for the ask!!! ily!!

🤝 which character are you most like?

[head in hands] jack kelly. i actually didn’t really connect to him much, or at least didn’t feel like i did, the first time i watched livesies, but watching 92sies knocked something loose and ohhh my god. he just like me fr and all that. parentless and lies about it not bothering him, has this big easy personality to cover up any ounce of vulnerability, always ends up in charge of situations looking after everybody, no real home just the kids he loved and looked after in each place he stayed, avoidant, dreamer, bisexual, stupid. he’s me.

👴 favourite oldsie?

oldsies my beloved! they’re all my dads. i’m not sure if this means the characters or the actors, but for the characters i love snyder and pulitzer, they’re such fantastic villains - and that post you sent me about bunsen being the real villain for being the one to make the suggestion to raise the price!! fantastic. also, nunzio shoutout. i know that, whatever he gets paid, it is not enough.

🩸 opinion on blood drips heavily on newsies square?

genuinely a cinematic masterpiece. like, even without the context of newsies and it being the cast, if i stumbled upon it i would still love it. i love ridiculous campy horror, and i love boys having fun.

i would give anything to know the discussions and conversations that went into every single scene, particularly each that involved getting other people involved.

🎟️ favourite cast member(s)?

george crawford (uk morris) and matthew duckett (uk crutchie) my absolute beloveds. i’ve met them both twice now and they were both unbelievably sweet both times, they bring amazing depth to the characters and are both insanely talented (especially george covering jack kelly) in playing every part of the characters from humour to honesty to the depths of their traumas, and they’re both hilarious on social media. i miss alex jh (original uk oscar) so dang much, he was also unbelievably fantastic. and mike faist and brendon stimson (obc morris and oscar respectively).

😈 any unpopular opinions?

oh boy. i feel like almost all my delancey opinions are unpopular opinions, mostly boiling down to the fact that they’re not mindless monsters and they’re not meant to be. they’re villains and assholes, obviously and unquestionably, but there’s depth there and there’s always been depth, built right into the script (“i guess he didn’t take care of me”, etc etc), and intentionally dug deeper by practically everyone that’s played them.

also, the newsies are scrappy and ruthless and rude. they’re trouble, and they do it on purpose. they’re assholes almost every chance they get. they’re all kids in rough situations, and kids like that will do anything for a bit of power. it’s not necessarily a reflection of character, it’s just how stuff like trauma manifests, particularly at that age. characterising them as well-socialised and always well-meaning, etc, is a disservice.

#answered #sparkedblaze

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v8nom · 5 months

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random question: what are ur favorite twice ships and their dynamics to write??

(and btw i absolutely love everything you’ve written btw like esp ur hurt/comfort self harm series like i eat that shit up and reread it when i’m having a rough time :) and ur also REALLY fucking good at writing smut like ur the entire package)

ah anyway hope ur doing well!! thank u!!

!! first of all tysm! I appreciate it <333

Also mmmm that's a good question, tbh my secret is that the method of how I write can only be described as receiving a vision from a god and desperately trying to transcribe what I see into words . if that makes sense. So the *goal* is to think deeply about dynamics n all that good deep stuff because I notice when other authors do that and I love it, but in reality . I don't really do that much . Or maybe I do on some level just not super consciously. (adding a read more for those who don’t care and don’t wanna scroll)

Sorry you probably weren't going for that with your question! Big fan of the misamo dynamics both for hurt/comfort and for smut, because imo sn and mn can either be needy and whiny as fuck or seductress vibes/Mean. And I've been on this puppy mm thing for a bit bc of things I've read, but I forget if I've always thought that way. In the hurt/comfort world of things, something about me likes to project onto mn (sorry to her), and mm and sn I feel are Good with emotional things, sn in the talking and shes good at comforting way, mm in the way she's just , kinda puppy actually lol. (omg I can go on and on abt sn if u wanna hear it). Jh with anyone is fun to play with, because you can either go leader vibes she's in charge/she knows how to help, or she wants to give up control/she's hiding her pain because she wants to be a good leader.

I hope that answers it! u were probably talking dynamic in general but in the visions i receive (lol) they tend to be either hurt/comfort or smut so I can speak to that. Also can u believe I actually wrote more for this and had to cut it out .. apologies if u wanted a quick and easy answer ! But if you wanna hear more about someone or a dynamic specifically, please ask. Thoughts tend to come to me when I'm prompted so hit me the fuck up.

I hope you're doing well too anon! thank you for the ask <3 also sorry for having this sit here for 4 days, I've got plans and drafts TRUST I wanna keep this acct alive and well, unfortunately things got super busy but hopefully after the next week I should have more time!

#ask #nonreq

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tiffanylamps · 2 years

Note

Hi! I hope you're doing okay. I have questions, ermm

I dont remember which fic of yours it was but there was a moment where Jae Yi and Ji Hwa were ignoring each other and DS found it odd but later on when jy was pouring alcohol for jh, they made eye contact and blushed?! And ds was like "Ah..so thats what it was" IS IT WHAT I THINK IT IS

If so, I think it wud be more adequate if u added more moments!! 🥺/built on their storyline

And also, in one of your analyses, ("How was JW in the one year time skip") you mentioned how it could be possible that JW relied on his one and only family member Hyuk extremely for all his suffrages- and even made a romantic bond... .. .

I got suddenly interested in that ship and- i was wondering if you were writing anything Juwon x Hyeok?? Im srsly so interested and i wanna see how they would be together

Just imagine, hyeok taking care of juwon 🥺

Hey friend, I'm dying from the extremely unnecessary heat wave in the UK at the moment (we've been told to stay indoors lol). But I'm okay, thank you for asking.

I hope all is well with you, as well!

Ah, yes, I was waiting for someone to pick up on this. You're talking about chap 2 of By Desire. I wrote that with the intention of leaving it up to interpretation: it could be a sweet moment between friends or something a bit more (but why would anyone want it to be platonic??? let's be real here). I have a few ideas for these wonderful ladies that I'm going to include but they aren't the main focus of the story, so keep that in mind.

(look at one of my favourite lesbians and her queer gf. Seriously, the only person good enough for either Jae Yi or Ji Hwa is each other. No one else can match up)

Okay!! So, Joo Won and Hyuk. They're a guilty pleasure of mine. I love their dynamic; like, what did Hyuk do to make Joo Won give him puppy eyes and call him "Hyung"?? I love the complications in their history and their relationship. I love that Joo Won is always second-guessing him BUT he trusts Hyuk so much. Joo Won thinks in transactions- he doesn't see the value of genuine bonds and yet... Hyuk is allowed to have drinks with Joo Won, he's allowed in his apartment, he's (sometimes) allowed to touch him; he's also allowed to do Joo Won favours!! That is huge- Joo Won allowing himself to be indebted to anyone!

Hyuk is always trying to force a family dynamic (and the straight agenda onto Joo Won... so funny), which Joo Won rejects (like all the time). Which... okay, I know why Joo Won does that but I'm also allowed to think: what if it were gay? (what if the reason jw doesn't want to see hyuk in a brotherly way is bc of silly complicated feelings that first surfaced when they were younger and only come back once jw's life is burst into flames??? That's an interesting story. I would read that) Joking aside, it's my second favourite ship. There are 10/10 stories out there (even a Joo Won/Kwon Hyuk/Dong Sik one that is SO good). I have written some stuff for Joo Won and Hyuk. I have this big scene that was going to be a part of a (hopefully) future fic (if I ever get round to writing it) but I cut it out because it complicated the story. But I've kept it because it's a great scene and deserves its own storyline.

Hyuk is going to go grey early because of how much he's had to take care of our silly hjw. But he loves being needed and wanted by the Han family, so he'll always be there.

So, tl;dr: yes, I have written some stuff but it's not ready for public viewing... (and may never be)

Thank you for your questions. I'm so grateful for the time you take to speak to me :)

#answered #beyond evil fanfiction #i'll make everyone a part of the community. watch me.#you get a queer storyline #and you get a queer storyline #i'm like oprah

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mimibtsghost7 · 3 years

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Fuck you and all your little brain washed rats sending people hate because you cant take responsibility for your actions!! But go on stay silent like you always do, pretend its nothing of your business, keep being a fetishizing racist delulu like you love to be while pretending to be the best blog on tumblr!!!

NOT like anyone will see this but YOU will so LET’S GOOO!!!~~

TW: mental health and more (if you feel like this can trigger you, pls don’t read this, breathe in and out and listen to this HERE and remember I love you), loads of tea and Mimi NOT being a friendly and kind ghost.

funny enough:

I never pretended of said I was the best blog. But I guess the fact that you say it might be because you heard it frequently? Thanks for thinking so^^

I sent hate to no one and u r the one sending it to me rn ^^ In my whole 4 year journey on Tumblr I received a lot of love but also worse hate that you can imagine. Yes you are saying now you are receiving hate ... funny how it’s bad when It’s addressed to you but when it’s at me and my dear followers it is not. Still, I never told anyone to go hate on you. You were the idiot that tagged my old blog and as soon as my blog was gone pple searched me and found out you were the reason behind this. But as you keep hating on me. Let me tell you I am kind but don’t mistake that for me being a coward.

I am not into insulting others and I don’t care much if you insult me. BUT don’t YOU DARE touch my dear followers. Insulting ain’t hard. Let me try: The only rat here is you hiding in your hole as an anon. I went and compared your writing with this ask and previous hate asks. And it was you~ Good for you~ the sewers smell just like your filthy mouth spilling sh*t left and right. So on brand. However, I know who you are @hobisbeautifulass Hi ^^

Me racist? HAHAHAHAH you truly know NOTHING about me nor my ex-blog’s message. It was a place when you were welcomed no matter your skin color, religion, gender ... proof? well it got deleted thanks to you. but ask around this time and search for who reblogged my posts as they were always the top of the tags (even if I don’t trust how bad you are at research). I supported the BLM movement and still do and will always do but I did so veeery early without anyone telling me. Not for the notes but because of my humanity. I wished my dear followers’ happy holidays no matter their religions. And never cared about those things. Why judge someone on something based on religion or how they were born. As for the LGBTQ+ community, I was always and will always be there for love being love. I talked about mental health and opened venting nights. I helped left and right and when I was receiving hate because of people like you spitting lies about me. What did I do? Did I go online and called people bad? No. I looked back at myself and asked myself if I did anything wrong. I tried to educate myself and apologized sincerely when I had to. I read books and watched documentaries to learn how to become a better human. AND never repeated a mistake twice. You tend to forget that our cultures are different and sometimes you grow up to see some things as normal when they are not. This is not an excuse tho, so I always believed that I was lacking and if someone had something to say against me, there is a chance they are right and just in case I should reflect on myself. But for your case it was pure nonsense. ME? a stalker? how can I stalk when I have social anxiety and at that time couldn’t even leave my room? I am even afraid of taking public transportations and just the other days I was crying from joy when I took a taxi alone. they said I was in Japan stalking Jimin and Jungkook and took a pic when I was NEVER EVER was on that land. You put me on the same list as people who bought info about BTS’ flights to be on the same plane as them? I was stalked before and let me tell you it ain’t cute and fun. I am even scared of the idea of being followed. that’s why I never shared openly my age, country, or anything about me on my blog. that’s why I have no personal social media to this day and that’s why making my ex-blog was some sort of miracle in my life.

Silent? yes I was silent when I received hate and didn’t even vent to my dear followers or pointed fingers. Why? because I thought as my day was hell I shouldn’t make anyone’s day worse. I was worried about my dear followers with mental illnesses being triggered. I tried to take my life so many times I lost count but I still came here and smiled. It was my safe place and you took it away. Yet, I should pity you? You hated on me first for no reason and you know it deep inside but right now you are trying to convince yourself that you are the angel and feel no guilt. Compared to you. I pointed fingers at no one and didn’t name you when my blog was gone. Why? because compared to you, I thought you will not be able to manage the hate and what was done .. I didn’t want you to suffer the same way I did when you are the one who made me suffer the most the past couple of days. But the kind Mimi is someone you will never remember because you dared touch the friends I love and calling them names. I don’t mind people insulting me but don’t you dare touch my people. I know myself best. My dear friends/followers know me best. I thought ... I could leave without this mess but you keep barking in my ask box and it’s annoying. I left this backup account just to talk to my friends and yet you are here to ruin things again? I should stop being kind to the ones who deserve non of it. I ignored you when I had so many followers and you went silent too because you were scared of me. But as soon as I lost my blog because of you, you went, edited and then reblogged that stalker post. How can I be a stalker? do you even know the definition of a stalker? do you even know shame? well .. I don’t think so.. you said it yourself. You are NOT ashamed (and you reblogged that so many time lol).

Death threats? this is no competition but thanks to people like you I have been there and wish no one to be there not even you. The only difference is that you almost killed me for real. You were not the sole reason? Great job walking away from you beloved word: RESPONSIBILITY. And I didn’t get just anon hate, I got literal tagging by people like you, DMs, and people pointing guns at me. That’s why I didn’t mention you. I was worried about the one who took away what I worked for for 4 YEARS. I was more sad and concerned about the ARMY fandom here. Do you know how many rely on my updates? do you know how many people said I helped them? do you know any of that? do you think 200k people were “rats”? Do you think if I did and say wrong thing I will not be questioned by those people. I always told my dear followers: “friends, if I do or say anything wrong or share anything that hurts anyone please tell me. I am willing to learn from everyone.” But what did you know? what did you do? Well .. guess you love notes? As the most notes you ever got and the most attention was when talking about me?

Love how you talk about fetishing when my blog was what people call “family friendly”. I also like BTS. I love them for their music, talent, personalities and the happiness they give me. I also enjoy BTS’ bond and love their interactions. I posted content of all kinds of interactions JM X JK, JK X V, V X JIN, JIN X SG, SG X JH, JH X RM, RM X JM ... If you are calling this fetishing asian men just because I scream over BTS as a fan and love their bonb. Then aren’t you against the idea of being an ARMY? I was a clear OT7 and you were told that you weren’t right:

Then you answered this without even explaining the nonsense about me:

idk .. I am trying to find sense in your nonsense so .. wait wait let me look at the definition of fetishism first.

Fetishism /ˈfɛtɪʃɪz(ə)m/ noun: a form of sexual behavior in which gratification is linked to an abnormal degree to a particular object, activity, part of the body, etc.

Then .. judging from your URL alone hmmm ... cute. I won’t even talk about the SMUT you write that is full of kinks and fetishism. Well I have no problem with fan fiction but the irony you spit is out of this world.

Also, I made money out of mimibtsghost? HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH no lil one. I worked day and night for FREE. At some point when BT21 just came out and there were no products on AMAZON or anywhere but S.Korea, someone reached out to me to offer 20% off or something for my dear followers. When they asked what I wanted I said what about international giveaways for my dear followers. Basically, made gifs, found content, updates, analysis, edits, and so on for free. Again, w-wait .. Aren’t you the one asking for commissions? Well .. It’s not wrong. But again THE irony.

So, I went to see that post you made about me with “PROOF” and it was just another person who was salty as I got them blocked I can’t even recall who they were but oh well. Their arguments according to YOU and many should be taken as FACTS just because they said them? You said HERE that your first comeback was MOST:7 that came in just last year (2020) SO what the hell do YOU know about what happened years before you came when all the proof you pointed at where baseless without any backing?

Let’s see this so wise person you used to delete my blog and what I have done ^^

The gifs: There is a story to this. The first week I came to Tumblr, It was my first time on this site and the first time I share anything. I shared some content and my analysis had a lot of notes for a small creator that started just a week ago. But I made a mistake, I found a gif and posted it while crediting the gif maker. At the time I had NO idea it was wrong. I logged off and after 5 hours I log in and there was a WAR for that ONE gif. The big blog had me blocked and her friend was telling me to take it off. As soon as the person told me I did IMMEDIATELY and apologized againa and again and told them to tell the original gif maker to deblock me as I want to apologize directly and that they can block me after that. They did and I apologized but they just kept insulting me. Of course it was MY mistake and that’s why I apologized. But for them. for a mere gif (yes I say a mere gif because I made so many gifs and they were used on all platforms but I never thought it was necessary to hate that much on someone like they did to me). That blog was big and had big blog mutuals. Thanks to that, I became someone you do NOT become mutuals with but block and never reblog content from. Without any big mutuals. Without any shoutouts. Only my love for BTS, my dear followers’ support and my hard work.. My blog, became bigger and FAST (I got 10k in less than 6 months after I started) and that brought loads of jealousy and thus more rumors. Even if, I apologized and since then made my own gifs. And I made SO many gifsets that I can’t remember how many there were. What I can recall is at some point I made them daily and many times a day.

Ships Jikook? I posted content of ALL the members interactions. I was here at a time where Jikook stans and Taekook stans where always fighting. BUT I posted about both and even made so many posts to encourage loving all the members and all the interactions. I also used the tags solely used for shipping with other big tags to show that BTS’ interactions are all important and their bond is beutiful. That our fandom shouldn’t hate on a member just because they are not part of a ship we like. And wait .. even if I shipped Jikook? I got called ALL those names by someone who ship the members with readers and write sexual scenes? Like, wait ... I am truly confused. Like, write fanfic and do all you want as long as you hurt no one I guess but why am I getting hurt for doing non of it? Like according to you, the person you should be cancelling is yourself?! I am also not into cancel culture like you so hahah whatever.

Posted stalker pics: well wow the story changes each time. Next thing you will hear that I was the one holding a camera for a member in a Vlive lol. Let me teach you about this update thing I was doing. I follow accounts I trust and that’s how we get info circulating fast. I always do reasearch but sometimes mistakes are made. For example when lately people shared pictures of BTS leaving their virtual concerts and schedules. There was a watermark of a news outlet. Normally we trust those but only later we realized that those people stalked BTS. You clearly can’t know it all. But I still didn’t share many pics related to many events (I will not name those as pple can search them even now because some pple never deleted those). And all big accounts shared many pics then deleted later. This happens all the time but it happened like ONCE for me. However, I am called a stalker for that?

When Jonghyun passed away ... I don’t even wanna recall that night as the memories just ... when that happened I posted about it and send my condolescences. that post had over 10k notes and was at the top the tag. Why did I do that? I was devastated. Yes, many were but I will talk about me rn: I was suicidal the days before that and one of the songs that I listened to when I was broken where by him. I has been in the kpop world since 2006. And learned about his group since their debut with ‘Replay’. I was never a stan but I still knew of many groups and listened to all the songs I liked. I was very sad when he was gone and ANGRY mostly. Why is this angel leaving? Why is someone like me still here? Why did I not leave instead of him? How much did he suffer? And in the midst I posted a post from twitter that stated how agencies usually put down pple with mental illiness and hide it in the industry. Yes, that was important but NOT at that time. I shouldn’t have posted that and I realized after 5 min of doing so that it was WRONG. So I deleted it FAST but it kept being reblogged and I kept getting hate and people telling me: “Go kill yourself”... the sad part is that I almost did as my answer was “true ... why am I still here?” I apologized and logged off then to this day won’t forget crying at 3 AM while walking outside next to my dad. I was outside as I couldn’t breathe anymore and the idea of seeing the walls of my room was hell. I cried and cried and the teary eyes that my father looked at me with are something I am ashamed of to this day. To add one more thing while I am spilling the beans. I hate learning about someone dying. My grandma passed away sometime before that and it was so shocking to me. and some people came and told me when I was mourning her: Go follow that bitch of grandmother of yours. And for what? At that moment I didn’t think I would live to see the next year but I went to therapy and took medecine that was hurting and made me shake all day just to turn somewhat sane. No one knew tho ... I smiled all day and cried all night.. Even on the blog I fought no one of the ones who hated me. I just blocked them but even that was an insult to them?

Again, you said no one should defend me. Yet, you were ready to fight whoever touched anyone around you. What about changing your URL to beautifulassirony

Also THE hypocrisy. If you are sorry then why are you answering an ask of someone isulting someone you want to apologize to? Just make a post wher you apologize or ignore it from the start?

One more thing but surely not the last. You said you were good with research which you are NOT. So, let me show you what an OG detective ARMY can do. But first, as I was scrolling I saw some of your “work” (let’s not even talk about those gifs) and I am just giving my point of view here: I hate how you painted Namjoon as this horny-idiotic-make-dog. Like I get it it’s a fanfic or Namjoon as a dad but ... Namjoon is such a smart man who is very respectful and ofc he is a human with needs like many but what the hell is this way of portraying a character? Also a character is not cool, amazing, and a strong woman just because they curse and belittle their partner.

Oh well, only you kept reblogging that as it show 36 reblogs when only 33 as still there when I looked and out of those 13 reblogs are yours? (you might have reblogged it more) but again some people might have liked ... people have different taste ... so ... whatever.

Let’s continue, shall we ^^. You said you were the victim here when I was the one getting robbed right? How can I believe someone who reblogged the post below and was proud calling themselves an abomination or how the Oxford dictionary defines it: a thing that causes disgust or loathing. For once you weren’t wrong.

What can you expect from someone who has the “I am not like others” kinda mentality while stating relatable things that everyone goes through?

This is getting pretty long. So to sum this up. You are now telling others that hate is NOt ok and that they should be ashamed of themselves when you yourself is not ashamed of hating on me?

I am not the type that sends anon hate. I might ignore some barking but the past days you came and bite me hard. I face the ones I have to face without fear. I know I am not the bad guy here and I don’t care much what you think about me. Even BTS got haters. This says a lot. BUT do NOT dare talk badely of my dear friends/followers. You said you do research well? Start by deleting the post below that was originally by ME from your blog ... oh how meticulous you are. From your baseless receipts to your twisted logic. Indeed people on the internet can say anything and it will be FACTS. You painted me as the devil and painted yourself as this researcher? What’s next you receiving a Phd in ‘pity me’ after your MBA in lies and irony? Whatever~

Whaaatever~ Karma will have upcoming talks with you. No need for you to apologize. I never cared about you and you only got attention using me. But I am not here anymore how will you get that blog running now? Are you gonna add me in a fanfic next? No need for you to send me my appearance fee when you do so~ And no need for you to apologize to me just apologize to you conscience if you have any left. As for me @hobisbeautifulass you are just someone I will forget soon anyway~~

And because according to what you said HERE when you described the things you hate about people and I thought that was VERY close to how you treated me. Thus, you might really not stand yourself rn.

Do.Not.Worry. BTS are starting the Love Myself campaign again and just in time for you to jump in (you are good at jumping to conclusions about me so I won’t worry about you). I know you don’t like me or my friends but be sure to love yourself at least ^^

You are a Hobi stan? Then learn from Hobi to share some sunshine not bring the storm. Have a good day~

#Anonymous #hobisbeautifulass #don't mind the typos as I wrote this in one go #just because I am someone who do not punch back when someone hit me do not mean I will stand nicely when you touch my people #anyway~ bye~#mimibtsghost

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mochii0park · 3 years

Text

meraki; chapter 01 I jhs

Title: Meraki

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader / Jin x Reader

Part of series: Waterlilies and Japanese Bridge

Genre: angst I fluff

Pairing: literaryscout!hoseok x writer!reader

Word count: 4.5k

Summary: Throughout your whole life you lived in your sister’s shadow, watching from side-lines as she formed herself into a successful businesswoman with an envying life. Never being able to fill her shoes you gradually understood the meaning of an estranged family and the burden it carried. The twenties began slowly slipping from your grasp which had been embedded with insecurities and longing for fulfilment. Pouring your heart out to strangers with a pseudonym meraki, you began second guessing the decision when an email lands in your inbox.

Author's note: unedited, it's 2am I'll reread it tomorrow

Taglist: if you want to be added to the taglist message me

@namsope32 , @cuteipat , @ofvopemin

Masterlist

Meraki masterlist

< intro | chapter 02 >

Seokjin got engaged and moved to the USA.

Your lanky fingers hover over the keyboard, the reality of the situation still lingering in the air. The send button felt heavy, as if the action would make a shift in your universe. You have already made mends with how things were going between you, but it still felt crushing.

Sucking up the little pride you had left after lying to your friend, you push the button and lock the phone hoping to gain some sanity in your walk back to the apartment. It had been a regular night out with your friends. Coffee chitchat alongside freshly baked cookies which you got as an apology for being late.

Your mutual friends felt the need to notify you of the sudden change in Seojkin’s life, wanting you to hear it from them first. Pushing it to the back of your mind as nothing but an additional fact, you continue through the night with a smile. That lasted until you the rounder the corner.

Seokjin had been your friend through university and even later as you grew up and struggled to make ends meet. You had been there for him when his girlfriend of five years decided to dump his ass having a shift in her feelings towards him. You mended his heart through late night talks and rides across the city. He was your kiss partner after breakups, picking up your self-esteem and gluing it together. In conclusion, Seokjin was your everything. If only the feeling was mutual.

Days before deciding to confess to him, he blasts your phone with messages about a girl that pulled all the strings in his heart and awoke oceans of memories. Kim Jisoo was his high-school crush with whom he lost contact after entering his last relationship. Reconciling through social media the two hit off where they last left it and suddenly you became the dust under his shoes.

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months of not seeing him. With a deeply rooted pain in your chest and a jealousy for the new girl in his life you stepped down allowing Jisoo to consume his being. Afterall who were you than a mere friend, easily replaceable.

The last slap came when you drunkenly confessed, having enough of their roller coaster like relationship. That was the last time you’ve heard of Seokjin’s teary-eyed voice telling you goodbye over the phone. No matter how many times he told you this sounded like the end and the suffering he felt was unbearable; it was nothing compared to the sound of your heart shattering into pieces.

Sehun told you many times that the timing was so off it made him uncomfortable, but that’s the thing about you and Seokjin. Everything was off with the two of you. From kisses to cuddles to nudes after midnight to serious conversations about pineapple pizza. Friends don’t do that, is what you kept telling yourself when the feelings for him slowly grew from platonic to romantic.

In midst of your thoughts your phone rang. Sehun the attachment dealer flashed across your phone. Giggling at the memory of how the nickname came to be, a warm feeling nest itself inside your chest. “Hello?”

“Where are you?”

“I left the Howl Cafe, I’m near home.”

He hums, the sound of the blinker echoing in the distance. “I’m there in five. Meet me at the bus station at beginning of your street.”

There were instances when disobeying Sehun felt like the biggest thrill of your life but right now when feelings you couldn’t pinpoint ran through you clouding your judgement, Sehun felt like a silver lining. As you wait for him to arrive, you can’t help but scroll through your phone in search for that one picture of Seokjin.

The only one you’ve saved after your last conversation. He was leaning against the wall of the bakery, a cigarette hanging from his mouth. His bleached hair fell over his rimmed glasses giving him an emo vibe. It was somewhere around three am when you’ve taken this photo.

Both of you exhausted from running aimlessly around the city. He begged you to visit this bakery at the top of a hill, assuring you about the quality of their goods. You remember that night vividly, how you would steal a kiss or two in the shadows hiding from the reality. How he would woo you with his terrible French accent and you would answer him in your broken German.

You miss him. You miss him to the point where it physically hurt.

Sehun honks ever so caring about the people sleeping peacefully in their homes. He bursts into laughter at your jumpy reaction making you feel annoyed as you lock your phone. Settling yourself in his car you wait for his I told you so, but it never comes. Instead, he turns on his Spotify playlist clicking on Olivia Rodrigo’s good 4 u blasting it a such high volume all thoughts you had were overridden with the upbeat song.

Sehun had been your friend for the same amount Seokjin was. The two knew each other through a few short encounters, for some reason they never crossed paths for longer than ten minutes. For that you were thankful. The song comes to a finish and Sehun observes you from his seat. The lights of the city painted on the window illuminated your face, giving him a prefect view of your perplexed expression.

“How are you feeling?”

You knew he would ask this question, after all the sole reason you were driving on a highway was because of your damped mood but in whole honesty you didn’t know the answer.

“A part of me had expected it. He talked about marrying her, but he also talked about wanting to drop everything and own a cottage in Sweden.”

“Your taste in men is terrible. Remember Mark? The guy who had so many career goals but couldn’t leave his house because he thought having a life outside work was overly distracting for his oh so important career as IT support at ZARA? Or Mino who was so high you couldn’t recognise him when he dropped the weed after your breakup.” Sehun snorts.

You roll your eyes at him. Surely your boyfriend track wasn’t the best but it’s not like you seek out boys with issues, it seems that they attach themselves to you and you can’t get rid of them without a major heartbreak. “Whatever.”

Sehun stretches forward pulling your favourite chocolate bar out of the compartment, throwing it in your lap. You smile, munching on it as you switch the song to Zayn and Sia’s Dusk Till Dawn.

“I just expected him to inform me.”

Sehun shakes his head. “I am not sure why you expected that. You two haven’t shared one conversation in two months. You’ve asked for space when he told you he can’t choose between you and Jisoo. Plus, that was a dick move to be honest making him choose between his girlfriend and his best friend.”

“Space,” you emphasise,” not utter silence. He didn’t move two fucking blocks Sehun. He moved to a whole fucking country without telling a soul. Our mutual friend finds out through an Instagram story. Fucking Instagram. And I don’t care, he was a dick that started this charade might as well end it.”

By now you were fully shouting, the tears that threatened to spill before now rushing down your face. In this moment you didn’t care much about Sehun’s awkwardness regarding tears and crying, that was pushed aside when he backed Seokjin’s decision and pissed all over yours.

“Y/N,” he whispers, turning down the volume as you whimper, “there is not much you can do. You must respect his decision. You can’t force someone to love you.”

It was your turn to huff at the stupidity of his words. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t go about kissing people. Respect decision? Fuck that. Did he respect me when he made a fool out of me?

“No.”

Sehun exhales knowing that in this case you weren’t in the right mind to have a rational conversation. Seokjin was your weak point, he knew that much. Your emotions began to pour out, leaving you a sobbing mess in his car.

“Look, I can’t stop you from having all sort of emotions for him. I can only advice you to turn off your phone for tonight and give yourself time to process the information before doing anything you might regret.”

“I won’t blast his phone with insulting messages if that’s what you think.”

“Good, also don’t eat out your emotions. You can’t stand too much sugar in your system.”

“Thanks doctor. I’ll just write out my emotions instead.” You say leaning into the seat, closing your eyes as you listen to the music.

“You still write on that blog?” You can hear some amazement in Sehun’s voice, and you know it’s not to mock you but to praise you for managing to stay faithful to one thing this long. You had a reputation for giving up on things in early stages because you couldn’t finish them perfectly.

The rest of the ride was spent with you eating out your emotions with the food Sehun bought from your local fast-food restaurant. Not much was said between you and him as he drove into the night letting you process the whole situation, only dropping you off at home when you felt yourself calming down.

Once in the confides of your room you strip yourself of any pent-up emotions letting all the pallet of different feelings overran you. Taking a pen, you let your heart pour into endless words scribbled away in your notebook. When you’ve felt empty the high gone, you take your laptop opening the site you’ve a long time member of. It came to you on Instagram in a form of a poorly done advertisement. It was a website for people wanting to share their poetry with strangers.

At first, you’ve done what you always do: began self-doubting your poems and their worth. Most of them were written in a spur of a moment when you felt like you would burst from the number of things you felt. But one night, when sleep couldn’t come to you and the pain of losing the person you held dear lingered in the air threatening to choke you; you signed in posting your work. It was raw and you suddenly felt exposed and naked in front of the world.

That’s how Meraki came to be. How your pseudonym became your shield, allowing you to burden it with any thought or emotion you’ve felt. In the online world Meraki was a fierce writer, letting her readers know of the pain and suffering she felt. In real world Meraki was an introverted person hiding herself from anyone willing to come close.

____

It was a hot Wednesday morning when you’ve gotten an e-mail from your sister informing you of her whereabouts. Due to your mother’s work preventing her from traveling, she decided to pay you a visit instead; much to your delight. The days to her wedding were numbered and so was your sanity.

Luckily for you she and her fiancée decided to stay with your parents.

The thought of her roaming the halls of the only place you’ve managed to cover in comfort was disturbing you. It wasn’t that you hated your sister but although you’ve dealt with your own insecurities some parts of the trauma still hung over you.

You’ve managed to avoid her for a good number of days since she landed in Seoul but now a week later you ran out of excuses. That’s how you found yourself sitting in a posh sea food restaurant, juggling your anxiety during the family dinner.

The last time you saw your whole family was at your grandfather’s birthday (which happened six months ago). The event left a bad taste in your mouth after you’ve spent majority of time listening to your sister’ success only receiving attention when she addressed you.

Solar and her fiancée Minho discussed the menu as they skimmed through different meals. You have been so busy staring at one spot that you’ve never noticed the waiter taking orders.

“Y/N?” Solar spoke catching your attention.

“One chicken fillet for me please.” You were so preoccupied with different thoughts you never saw what they had to offer therefore you went with your go-to food.

The moment the waiter leaves the table with the menus, your mother scoffs. “Aish you’re eating chicken again, we’re in an exclusive sea food restaurant and you’re embarrassing us. “

“Mother, let her eat what she wants.” Solar interrupted your mother’s complaining, switching the topic to her wedding dress. Your mother beamed at the photos she showed her.

It was somehow sad how much power Solar had over your parents. One word was enough to ease them into doing whatever she liked whilst you had to beg and crawl your way and even then, you were no match for her.

You felt severely out of the place. The two talking about preparations while your father and Minho gushed over their new apartment in Tokyo. You sat there in your chair counting down minutes until you could leave. Any other day you wouldn’t bother to attend the dinner but now Solar insisted you showed up. Something about the sight of her family warming her heart, bunch of bullshit.

“How are you doing Y/N?” She asks ignoring your mother as she mumbles under her breath about your bad habits, one being smoking.

You took up smoking in your last year of university when the pressure of getting a master’s degree and balancing your parents had been too much to take in. A lot of your friends decided to find comfort in weed, but you never understood the thrill of it. Rather than spending enormous amounts for just one puff, you could buy a pack of cigarettes and still have money left for some booze.

“Not much, same old same old.” You answered pushing your nervousness away.

There wasn’t much happening in your life. You’ve started a job in a bookstore and spent your free time either with Sehun or Jihyo.

“How’s Seokjin?”

That one question had caught the table’s attention and suddenly you felt a terrible need to smoke one. Your families were acquainted through work, your fathers working together on a project. They had been shocked when they discovered that you and Seokjin had been close friends for a long time.

“He’s fine.”

“I heard he got engaged,” Your mother spoke up,” to Kim’s daughter Jisoo. Ah what a wonderful being that one is.”

“Oh?” Solar gave your mother a perplexed look narrowing her head at you. You played with the glass in front of you, the object suddenly becoming interesting.

“I thought you and he were dating.” Minho joined, telling the words that were stuck on the tip of your sister’s tongue.

“Y/N and Seokjin? Don’t make me laugh. They are worlds apart. Seokjin is so focused on his career while our Y/N thinks writing will make her a fortune.”

Taking a sip of water, you try your best to wash away the nasty words threatening to leave your mouth. Your parents never approved of your career choice not that you even cared about their opinion.

Solar hums pulling her lips into a straight line. “I’ve must’ve mistaken then. I was sure I saw you-“

“Here is your food.”

And that’s how you were saved from the embarrassment of having to explain to your sister that what she saw was imagination playing tricks on her and not you and Jin making out in front of your house. It was awkward enough when she pestered you about it the next day.

The conversation takes on a different dynamic and you breathe out in relief. You were still trying to process the news and talking about him wasn’t helping your soul. You gather yourself before your façade could fall and mask it with a stoic expression continuing your countdown till desert when Sehun would call you for an “emergency”.

Right on time you think as your phone began to ring.

You pretend to gasp covering your mouth to show concern as Sehun sputtered nonsense. He kept talking about his trip to the gym and how his feet hurt from all the exercise he did while you tried not to show disgust as explained in detail how hit his little finger against a metal device . Solar shot you a worried look as you excused yourself from the table.

“And the award for the best actress goes out to Y/L Y/N” Sehun pitches once you close the door of the restaurant. Shooting a quick apology message to Solar, you jump into his car deJa’vu hitting you.

“I should get paid for spending so much time with you.” Sehun dripped in sweat, his black shirt sticking moistly to his body, hair pushed back.

You shrugged falling into a comfortable silence. Half an hour later he stops at the number 13, the windows of your house distinguishable by the large number of flowers catching last rays of Sun before the night settles.

“That will be 100 won and a Mcdonald’s later when you’re free.”

“Yeah, not happening” you tell Sehun, already halfway out of the car, rucksack slipping from your shoulder.

He raises a brow at you.” I am not your personal driver Y/N. I had to leave my girlfriend to drive you back.”

You scoff as you roll your eyes at him.” I’ve told you to call me for an emergency. There was no picking up included.”

He mimics your words mockingly before pressing the gas pedal leaving you behind him. Unlocking your apartment door, you’re greeted with your dog sleeping in the hallway not giving you a second glance as you pass over him. Haku’s snores echo through the empty apartment warming your heart. The Shiba became your companion two years ago when you were going through a rough patch. It took some time for you to get used to each other but now you couldn’t image not having his snot buried into your business.

Turning on the lights you sit at the kitchen table pulling your leg up to rest your head on the knee. Opening your laptop, you see a few notifications popping up on the sideline about your recent orders. Just when you were about to close the notification center you see one mail standing out. The name Jung Hoseok makes you jolt in your seat.

Dear writer aka meraki,

I hope this e-mail find you well. My name is Jung Hoseok, I’m the CEO of ZER Publishing company. I’ve taken interest in your poetry and would like to have a meeting to discuss a possible collaboration between us.

Kind regards,

Jung Hoseok

The scream that came from you couldn’t possibly be human. Closing the laptop as if it will burn you, you throw it on the sofa choosing to avoid it until tomorrow.

You didn’t know how he found you giving that any personal information on the site was strictly private. Pacing back and forward you facetimed Sehun. He picks up after three very long rings making your heart beat erratically against your chest.

“I swear to God if this is another one of your emergency calls.” Sehun stands there in nothing but a towel hugging his waist. He moves to the other side of the bathroom, bare feet pacing against the marble floor.

“I got an e-mail.”

He curses, his voice muffled from the towel pressed against his face. ” You called me to tell me about a mail?”

“Not any mail, Sehun. I was contacted by Jung Hoseok.” You whisper still walking back and forward, Haku following every step of yours. Sehun tries not to pay close attention to you, getting slowly dizzy from all the commotion.

“And something tells me I should know who that is?”

You halt taking a moment to stop yourself from starting a conversation about common knowledge again, it was a sour subject. “He messaged through the mail used for Meraki.”

This time Sehun is quite for a few seconds taking in your words. You don’t see him, but you can hear deodorant spray and shuffle of clothes. “How? Isn’t that private?”

“Yes.”

And suddenly the anxious feeling was back. The poems you wrote there were strictly private, the mention of your love life and your hardships with your family were never meant to be linked back to you. You’ve checked the websites policy not wanting anyone to associate you with the account. If that were to happen you can immediately start packing your things to move to another continent.

“I am sure he didn’t hack it; nobody is that desperate. Maybe he contacted the website owner?” Sehun takes his phone, hair freshly washed strands falling over his face. He moves from the bathroom to the kitchen placing you carefully , so you could see the whole room.

You think for a second, there was a possibility. “Isn’t that a violation of my privacy?”

“I can try to read out the rights and policy. Come up with a text signed as your lawyer but Y/N” Sehun’s voice is soft, something he did to calm you down. He stood in the middle of the kitchen, eyes having an internal battle, the look you’ve seen on him in rare moments.

“Yes?”

“I am sure if you refuse, he won’t bother you. I am also sure you don’t have much to lose if you agree.”

____

Hoseok was on his fifth coffee by noon, deprived of any sleep last night. He was starved for a good literature piece that would leave him in myriad emotions. Sadly, he came up with an empty line. He spent his days cocooned in the corner of Suho’s café reading page by page poetry that awoke no emotion except irritation. He was on the brink of losing his mind.

Suho slides into the booth, careful not to startle Hoseok.” Have you found anything?”

Hoseok ruffles his hair before resting his head in his hands. He was desperate enough to visit fanfiction sites in hopes of stumbling upon work that had the spark.

“Maybe you should take a break? Visit those open mic nights where people recite their poems?”

Hoseok shakes his head having already used that option last week. “I’ve been to three mic nights and not one was interesting. I am on a verge leaving everything behind to become a stripper. Yoongi did say I have an amazing body."

Sehun by now used to his friend’s dramatic antics shrugs his shoulder.” You should really take a break. You’ve been searching for a month now.”

Hoseok wished he could take a break, but the existence of his firm lay in his hands. That enough gave him tremendous worry pushing him way above his limits.

“I know but if I don’t find a good piece in a month, I can close the firm. Do you know what that means? Hundreds of people losing their job.” Hoseok wasn’t the one to crumble under pressure but now he felt like crying. Suho offered him a smile he’s seen before, the pity smile. Patting his shoulder he gets up at the sound of doors opening ,customers swarming in.

At the end of the day Hoseok thinks everything has turned against him. His laptop dies in the middle of reading, and he discovers he forgot his charger at home. In all the despair and anger he accidentally knocks over the mug spilling coffee over important documents and his newly bought jeans. The stain will probably leave a small burn that he wasn’t ready to face today. He’ll take care of it tomorrow.

On the side Suho observes his restless friend. He felt bad for not being able to help him more, but he already used all his resources and sent them anonymously to his mail only for Hoseok to turn it down.

Sehun walks into the café with his gym in one hand and candy in the other, drops of sweat forming on his forehead. He was waiting for a call from Y/N, prepared to jump into his car at any second. He greets Suho, his sight landing on an exhausted Hoseok bumping his head repeatedly against the table lightly. He hoped to never reach this point of insanity.

“What’s his problem?”

Suho follows Sehun’s line of sight. Hoseok sits in the booth, forehead rested against the table. Both his mind and body were tired, and the clock was ticking. “He needs to find a good poetry piece to publish otherwise he’s toast.”

In that moment Sehun weights his options. He knew how self-conscious you were about your work thinking it lacked emotion and quality and this seemed like a good opportunity to prove you otherwise. On the other hand, there was the issue with people closely linked with your poems. He takes his time picking between different sugars, steering the coffee slow enough to buy him at least one more minute.

Pushing the bills to Suho he takes a sip. “There is a website called Nora, it had lots of good poetry. I've read some.”

Suho nods following Sehun out of the café promising to deliver the message to Hoseok. Once locked up he slides back into the booth watching Hoseok pack his belongings ready to call it a day. “This costumer told me about Nora site. You should give a shot.”

“Nora?” Hoseok mocks, he heard of all the websites used for writing but Nora didn’t ring a bell.

“I think it’s new. I’ve never heard of it but he seemed sure of his words. The worst that can happen is he lied and knowing Sehun that’s unlikely.”

Hoseok nods eager to go back home to his cat Nobus and prepare himself a warm bath to release the tension built up in his muscles. Waving goodbye to Sehun, he exits the shop from the back door and turns on the engine of his car driving away to the beat of classical music easing him.

Entering his small apartment located in the centre of Seoul, he throws his shoes to the side not bothering for order tonight. Slouching himself on the couch he pets Nobus, the cat bumping his head against his arm purring softly. With eyelids half closed he opens the website on his phone, picking poetry as his preferred category.

Selecting a random writer he opens the first poem, eyes scanning the text.

I love you like the habit I picked up in college of sleeping through lectures or saying I’m sorry when I get stopped for speeding because I drink a glass of water in the morning and chain-smoke cigarettes all through the day because I take my coffee Black and my milk with chocolate because you keep my feet warm though my life a mess I love you because deep down I know you'll never be mine again (author of the poem: Nikki Giovanni, I added three last sentences)*

With every word that Hoseok took in he felt himself back in university, all drunk on the idea of loving the girl that sat two seats in front of him during microeconomics. He relives the ecstasy of having love running through his veins, he feels the desire under his fingertips for just one touch, he crumbles at the pain of finding her kissing his best friend. Hoseok feels like his heart had been ripped apart with just few simple letters placed in a neat poem.

He sees the words meraki scribbled in a messy handwriting under the poem and he feels as if his prayers have been answered.

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jamaisjoons · 4 years

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the dragon’s princess ⤑ jhs | m.

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: with your mother’s death, and your father remarrying, came your abandonment in a tower - under the pretence that you’d be saved by a prince when you were older. now, it’s been over a decade and the princes come in droves to save you from the dragon that guards you. but you don’t want a charming prince. no. you prefer sweet ferocious dragons. one sweet, ferocious dragon in particular. fantasy au. royalty au. fairytale au. childhood friends to lovers au.

⟶ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: dragon shifter!hoseok x princess!reader

⟶ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: angst • fluff • smut

⟶ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 23.5k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: child abandonment, fairytale cliches: evil stepmother, abandoned princess, protective dragons and saviour princes, mentions of violence/action, mentions of death, brief descriptions of drowning (v v brief), alcohol consumption, soft dom!hoseok, sub!reader, slight body worship, hoseok, of course, has a dragon cock, hoseok is a tease, fingering, unprotected sex, first time sex + virgin sex, marking/mating, creampie, kidnapping, reader makes reckless decisions (DON’T randomly jump out a window in a spur of a moment decision)

⟶ 𝑎/𝑛: LOOK IT’S A SEXY COMEBACK!! hello ladeez n gentlenutz, I have missed you all! It’s been SO long since i’ve written (only 3 months really but it feELS LONGER) so anyway, here we are!! I hope you enjoy!! dedicated to miss bette aka peanut aka @ddaenggtan, i love and appreciate u so much okay thank you xxx

❥ thank you to @honeymoonjin, @hobisbeautifulass, @shadowsremedy and @jungtaeyoongles and of course miss bette, but you’ve already been tagged uwu, for being sweet babies and reading this and giving me the much needed validation to keep me inspired and writing this fic, i love u sexy losers

❥ happy birthday to my love, my sunflower, my king jung hoseok. i love u to the end of the worlds and further

⏤ part of the @ficswithluv ‘The Luv Library’ project

Your footsteps crunch along the ground as you make your way back to the tower you’ve called your home for the past decade. Leaves crackle under the soles of your sandals, the sound entwining with the gentle rustle of the trees as the soothing cacophony of sounds eases your soul. A soft wind flitters past, the light gale wisping through your hair, causing a few strands to dance in the squall. It shouldn’t take you long to reach home - you’d only been out foraging and hunting for supper. A victorious smile creeping onto your face, your eyes glance down at the wicker basket nestled next to your hip, the handle resting in the crook of your elbow.

An array of mixed berries, fruits and vegetables sit in the basket, nestled next to the cloth-covered slab of boar meat - and a few different herbs stalks taking up the rest of the space. Your grin widens as you silently praise yourself over your success. The boar meat especially gets you excited - it’s Hoseok’s favourite. Once again, you internally cheer, as you imagine the inevitable look of excitement on your dragon’s face when you tell him about your catch. Boar meat was rare to come by - well, somewhat rare - considering it was a fool’s folly to hunt for one without someone to accompany you. However, today, you’d managed to stumble across an injured one and tried your luck - and as it turned out, your luck had won out. Though, you do chalk most of it down to Seokjin’s archery training. The elf had tried his hardest to impart onto you some of his skill; and apparently, he’d been successful, since you’d managed to skewer the boar with one, well placed shot to the head, consequently putting it out of its misery.

You continue your way back home, practically moving on muscle memory alone - you’d walked this same path more times than you could count - the trek ingrained into the soles of your feet. The dense thicket of trees, while almost identical to each other, doesn’t confuse you as they used to and you find yourself easily navigating through the forest. It doesn’t take you long to reach home, and moments later, you approach the giant tower nestled within the dense canopy of the enchanted forest.

Taking a deep breath, you bite your lip before quickening your steps, more than excited to get dinner started. One small glance at the sky lets you know that dusk will soon approach, the sun low in the sky, casting its darkened luminescence across the forest floor. Nearing the heavy wooden door, you take in its appearance. The dark wood has faded over time, greyed from its rich cherrywood colour to a duskier oak colour. Thick clusters of moss have settled into the grooves of the bark, blanketing the hardwood in a layer of soft fuzz. Large grey slabs of stone surround the door, making up the walls of the tower and vines of ivy and honeysuckle creep along the sides, brightening up the dull grey with its vivid emerald foliage and vibrant chromatic petals.

Once, long ago, the tower seemed daunting to you. Of course it had, with its towering stature and imposing appearance. You could remember it somewhat fuzzily, despite it being so long ago. When the knights had first dropped you off, you’d only been seven years old, and you’d no idea what had been going on. Back then, the tower had seemed daunting - of course, it had, you were just a child. Vaguely, you remember the knight who had escorted you into the forest - his sweeping blonde hair and wary green eyes burned into the back of your mind - and still, you can hear his voice, almost hesitant as he thrust the small basket of food into your hands before telling you this would be your new home, and that he was sorry. Then, you didn’t really know what he’d been apologising for - now you do - he was apologising for being the one to have abandoned you.

From the hazy images in your memory, you have a vague recollection of why you’d been left here: your stepmother had convinced your father to abandon you, after your mother’s death, under the impression that you would be saved by a prince - your knight in shining armour. You had expected your father to fight for you, but distraught by the death of your mother, and your face only a cruel reminder of her, he’d agreed to his wife’s wishes, and thus, you’d been whisked away into the enchanted forest that bordered your kingdom.

The moment the knight had left, jumping onto his white stallion before riding back out, you’d called out to him - begged him to take you back with him - but your pleas had fallen on deaf ears. Scared, you’d retreated into the dark tower, its tall walls looming over your small frame as you desperately cried out for your father. In the blackened room, with the sun setting, you had feared for your life, curling into a ball and crying into your hands as you wished for someone to come help you.

And someone had.

In the most unlikely of forms.

Twelve years ago

You watch in panic and despair as the knight rides off on his horse; the stallion’s mane fluttering in the wind beside him. The clip-clop of the horse’s gallop soon fades, leaving you in the quiet forest. Terror immediately floods through your being as you look around the forest for any signs of life. There isn’t any. You’re completely alone. Looking at the wicker basket of food next to you, your bottom lip juts out, trembling as tears well in your eyes. You’re all alone.

Picking up the basket, you waddle into the tower, the dimness of the room only illuminated by thick beams of waning sunlight that filtered in through the sparse and sporadically carved out arched windows in the walls. Walking over to one of the corners, you slowly sit down, looking at the tower fearfully. The knight had said this was your new home - but you don’t want it to be your new home. You wanted your old home. Nothing about this tower feels like home; it’s dark, dreary and crushingly isolated.

Though, loneliness is something you’re used to.

Ever since your mother died, you’ve been lonely. Distraught by the death of his first wife, your father had sequestered himself from you and thrown himself into his kingly duties, leaving you completely alone. Then, mere months after your mother’s untimely departure, your father had remarried and your loneliness had only increased as you watched your father and stepmother rule the kingdom.

Curling up into a ball, you pull your knees up to your chest, your chin resting between the kneecaps. Sobs fill the air, your quiet whimpers floating through the atmosphere; the broken cries juxtaposed against the eerie quiet of the forest and the solitude of the tower. The sun slowly sets over the horizon, the dusky colours of twilight blackening the sky in darkened shades of gold, mauve, and lavender. With each second that passes by, the tower grows darker, the chill of the evening wind slowly setting into your bones as you start to shiver.

All of a sudden, you hear the crunching of twigs and the crackling of dried out leaves. The hair on the back of your neck stands on their ends, your skin prickling with goosebumps - and not from the cold. Instantly, you stifle your sobs, low whimpers escaping your mouth, even as you try to muffle them. Footsteps shuffle closer, a heavy presence lingering in the air as you try to curl tighter into a ball, attempting to make yourself as small as possible.

The footsteps move closer and soon you hear the door to the tower creak open. Palpitating heavily in your chest, all you can hear is your heartbeat thundering - so loud it feels like it's right beside your eardrums. A high pitch whimper escapes your lips, wondering if it's an animal or one of the forest creatures who’ve come for you.

“Are you okay?” a voice calls out, shock evident in the voice. You let out a small whine, curling tighter into yourself. The newcomer grows quiet, a tense silence thickening the atmosphere. You try to stay as quiet as possible, hoping whoever it is will leave you alone.

“Are you all alone?” the voice asks this time. You freeze, your heart still beating rapidly in your chest, even as confusion seeps into your skin. The voice is timid and slightly wary, but it’s sweet and high-pitched - almost comforting. With great trepidation, you slowly lift your head, only to come face to face with a young boy standing in the doorway of the tower. Blinking owlishly, you stare at him blankly.

Quietly, and warily, you take him in - your eyes trailing over his features. He looks fairly human - with lithe limbs, and soft features: rounded, ample cheeks and a gently sloping jaw - both juxtaposed by a sharp, pointed nose. His hair is dark in colour, and though he’s silhouetted by the sunset, you note the russet tinge to his hair, his locks falling gently to frame his forehead. If you didn’t know better, you’d consider him human - if it weren’t for his eyes. They’re a light yellow-hued hazel, almost glowing in the darkroom of the tower, and the pupils are slit vertically. A ripple of fear shoots through you, and you shuffle further back against the wall, keeping your wary eyes steady on him.

“Why are you here? Do you need some help?” the boy asks again. He moves to step closer to you, one hand reaching towards you. However, his actions cause you to immediately stiffen. Noticing your muscles tense, the boy immediately stills before retreating - but not before throwing his hands up in surrender.

“I just want to help. I heard you crying. Are you here alone?” he repeats once again. Hesitantly, you nod, answering him this time. The boy bites his lip, his eyes drooping slightly in sadness.

“I can help you if you want? I live here - in this tower I mean. I’m Hoseok,” he introduces, pushing the door wider open before fully entering the room. Once again, you stiffen slightly but Hoseok does his best to stay away from you, giving you space as he flits about his tower. You watch his every movement, keeping your distrustful eyes on him. He turns to a small window carved out into one of the walls, his nose crinkling in distaste as he takes in the darkening sky.

“It’s gonna be very dark soon. But don’t worry! I have some candles!” Hoseok says cheerily, sending a smile your way. You watch as he walks to the wall, staring up at the rusted iron candle fittings several feet above his head. Tilting your head to the side curiously, you wonder how he’s going to light the candles - they’re far too high for him to reach. Noticing your curiosity and slight skepticism, he sends you a cheeky smile, and then all of a sudden, his cheeks puff out.

Your eyes widen as he releases a strong puff of breath, fire shooting out of his mouth in a strong stream - almost like a flamethrower. The jet of flames bursts through the air, dowsing the candle in its fire before lighting the wick. It’s a miracle the candle wax doesn’t melt into a puddle. You stare at him in awe, watching as he repeatedly blows puffs of fire, lighting up the entire tower in a bright amber glow, the residual heat of his fiery breath tingling over your chilled skin. Hoseok turns back to you, a look of absolute victory on his face, his eyes slitted into little half-moons and cheeks pulled under them as the eyelids crinkle in the corner. You don’t notice any of it - instead completely in awe of the suddenly bright room.

“Did you like that?” Hoseok asks, causing you to nod, still completely starstruck over his display of power. Sensing that you’re slightly less wary, Hoseok quietens down before levelling his curious gaze at you. You watch him quietly, still curled up into a ball as you wonder what he’s thinking. Then - he slowly approaches. Your eyes widen, fear once again gripping at you - but he moves slowly, one step at a time, so as not to scare you.

“Are you feeling better now?” Hoseok asks timidly; his gaze briefly flicks to your tear-stained cheeks before returning it to your own gaze. Pulling your lip between your teeth, you nod hesitantly. You do feel slightly better - though, fear, confusion, and sadness still linger around you. You’re alone now - abandoned by your family and left in this isolated tower to fend for yourself. Well, not so alone - you think, momentarily glancing at Hoseok.

Then, almost as if reading your mind, “Are you alone here?” Hoseok asks, echoing your thoughts. Muscles locking, you shrink into yourself before once again nodding. “Why?”

Shrugging, “My parents don’t want me anymore,” you reply quietly, tears brimming in your eyes. The rustle of fabric fills the air as Hoseok squats down to your level, looking at you with wide, bewitching hazel eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Hoseok replies gently - nothing but truth evident in his eyes. Eyebrows furrowing, you cock your head to the side, but before you can ask why he’s sorry, he continues, “but it’s okay - because you’re not alone. I’m here now!” The words fall out of his mouth easily, a bright grin on his face, his lips pulled into the shape of a heart. Instantly, your heart soars, hope blooming inside your chest. You should know better than to trust strangers, your father had taught you that much - but your father had also been the one to abandon you - and you were desperate for someone, anyone, to relieve the ache of loneliness that you’d gotten so used to.

“I’m ____,” you finally introduce yourself, “I’m… I was a princess,” you continue, before your voice trails off. Hoseok only grins in response. Then, he stands back up before holding out his hand for you. His palms are small, chubby little fingers sticking out. You look at it intently, as if it held all the secrets to the world.

“Well, ____, I’m a dragon! And from now on, I’m gonna be your dragon! I’ll protect you!” Hoseok promises, his voice full of conviction and promise.

Then, he grabs your smaller hand in his and pulls you up to your feet.

The memory fades from your mind, a fond smile on your face. That night, Hoseok had cooked you some herbal broth, made from the different plants he’d foraged in the forest. You remember it being extremely bitter, borderline inedible, and nothing like the food you’d gotten in the castle - but you hadn’t minded. No, because the entire time you’d watched the nine-year-old painstakingly bend over a pot, with a fire he kept going himself, just to cook you a meal - despite being a mere two years older than you, having no culinary experience and only needing to feed himself before. Back then, and even now, you appreciated the gesture. It had meant the world to you.

Not to mention, that for the first time since your mother died, you hadn’t felt so lonely. Hoseok had been a blessing - one you had desperately wished for every night since your mother’s death and your father’s abandonment. In every way, shape, and form, he’d crushed your loneliness, giving you much-needed company, friendship - and not to mention, a family; because the next day, he’d introduced you to his friends, the different creatures of the forest.

“____? Wake up! I want you to meet some people!” Hoseok’s high-pitched voices calls out. With a soft groan, you awaken from your slumber. Opening your eyes, you come face to face with the boy you’d only just met yesterday. His kind eyes smile at you, his lips pulled into a cheery grin.

“What?” you groggily ask.

“Come meet my friends!” Hoseok says cheerily. Your eyes widen, nervousness colouring your veins. Hoseok’s friends? It shouldn’t sound as daunting as it is - but it does - because you’ve never met them before. What if they don’t like you? What if they get Hoseok to leave you? What if you’re left alone again? The thought terrifies you - you’ve only known Hoseok for a short while, but you were already coming to rely on him - he was your first friend after all.

“Oh! Here! There was food in your basket - have some breakfast,” Hoseok says, thrusting out a little loaf of bread and some cheese towards you. Blinking owlishly, your sleep fogged mind reels slightly. Nevertheless, the smell of the food has your stomach rumbling, and graciously you accept Hoseok’s offering - but not before breaking the loaf and handing him some. Hoseok looks at you in surprise, but takes the food from you nonetheless.

“Come on then! They’re waiting to meet you,” Hoseok says before holding out his hand for you. With trepidation, you place your smaller hand in his; and despite your fear, you decide to trust Hoseok - because he’s all you have now.

The two of you wander through the tower, down the spiral steps until you’re back at the entrance. With each step, your nervousness grows, your palms turning clammy as you grip Hoseok’s hand tighter. “Are you okay?” Hoseok asks, his slightly pointed ears twitching as he hears your heartbeat quicken. Taking a deep breath, you swallow thickly before nodding.

“I’m okay,” you manage to squeak out. Hoseok’s head cocks slightly, looking at you in uncertainty, however, you squeeze his hand to reassure him, causing him to squeeze back.

“Let’s go then. I promise they’re nice,” Hoseok whispers quietly before opening the door and guiding you out.

Instantly, sunlight floods through the door, your eyes squinting immediately as you try to adjust to the bright light. Once your eyes have adjusted, Hoseok leads you past a dense brush of bushes and down a covertly hidden, narrow path. You both walk for a couple of minutes before you find yourselves at a little clearing nestled in the middle of the woods. From just past the clearing, you can hear raucous laughter and happy chattering, a particularly thick bush acting as a barrier between you and Hoseok’s friends.

It only takes a couple of moments for Hoseok to peel apart the bush, creating a narrow path for you to walk through - and then, you’re greeted by six young boys. Two boys are running around the riverbank that cuts through the glade, another boy floating in the river as he happily splashes the two boys chasing each other. Another one is happily resting on a tree branch, his eyes closed and little snores escaping his nose as he naps. The last two boys are sat on a boulder, simply watching over the rest of the boys: observing them. Welcomed by the sight of the six unknown boys, you can’t help but cower behind Hoseok, hiding most of your body behind his slightly taller one as you peer in curiosity over his shoulder.

The first person to notice the two of you is one of the boys on the boulder. As soon as he stands up, your eyes grow wide - he looks to be a couple of years older than even Hoseok, but still pretty young, yet he stands tall - much taller than you and Hoseok - and straight. He’s dressed in brown leather, with a bow and quiver full of arrows strapped to his back. Stalking over to the two of you, he draws the attention of all the other boys, except the sleeping one.

“Hi! Welcome to the enchanted forest,” the tall boy greets, a friendly smile on his face. His hair is dark, framing his face and his bright amber eyes are kind. “I’m Seokjin, it’s nice to meet you,” he introduces. Ducking your head, you shyly curtsey to him, not knowing how else to greet him. Your gesture causes Seokjin to chuckle, Hoseok frowning before stepping further in front of you, levelling a glare on the older boy. Noticing his protectiveness, Seokjin simply laughs at the dragon.

“She’s here!” the boy in the river cries. Instantly, the two on the riverbank stop chasing each other. You watch from over Hoseok’s shoulder as the two boys start running towards you - but they’re not what has most of your attention. No, it’s the boy from the river. You watch as he pulls himself onto land, your eyes widening it awe at the tail attached to his torso. However, it doesn’t last long - because the moment it touches land, they transform into legs. Eyes glued to him, you’re completely intrigued by how he stands up before approaching you slowly with shaky legs and you can’t help but giggle over how adorable he is. Suddenly, one of the boys turns around and quickly walks over to him, letting the merman lean on him as the two of them approach you.

“Hi! I’m Jimin, it’s nice to meet you,” Jimin introduces, reaching you first, the other two still walking slowly, the merman’s wobbly legs strengthening slightly with each step they take. You turn your attention to Jimin. He’s around your height, with adorable puffy cheeks, warm rose-pink eyes, pale blonde hair, and pointed ears. Noticing your gaze, currently glued to his ears, Jimin smiles brightly. “Have you never seen a nymph before?” he asks. Blushing at being caught staring, you shake your head but mumble out an apology. “It’s alright! We haven’t seen a human this close either!” Jimin replies easily, nonchalance laced in his voice.

“That’s Namjoon - he’s a griffin,” Jimin says, pointing towards the boy still sitting on the boulder. He watches you intently, his honey, eagle eyes trained on you as his white-feathered, pointed ears stand erect, perched on the top of his head, between his platinum-white hair. His gaze slightly unnerves you, causing you to shrink further behind Hoseok.

“Joon! Stop that,” Hoseok growls out, snapping at the other boy. Namjoon blinks owlishly before blushing sheepishly.

You watch as he rubs the back of his head before cocking his head to the side. “Sorry,” Namjoon mumbles under his breath.

“You’ll get used to him. He’s really nice, he’s just wary of new people,” Seokjin whispers conspiratorially in your ear.

“Yeah, don’t worry, we’re all nice I promise,” Jimin says, popping up on your either side. Both their actions cause you to jump suddenly. When did they sneak up beside you? Noticing you jerk, they both apologise before stepping back.

“Sorry, sorry,” Seokjin and Jimin call out at once, before backing off.

“Ignore them, they’re all just excited to meet you. I’m Yoongi by the way,” comes out a new, unfamiliar voice. Your gaze moves to the boy on the tree - except now, he’s fully awake. Perched on the tree, he simply looks at you through his pale pink locks; his emerald-green eyes glowing so vibrantly that you can see them even with the distance between the two of you.

“Guys! Stop it, you’re scaring her!” Hoseok whines, stomping his little foot.

“It’s okay Hoseok! They’re just being nice,” you quickly call out, shaking your head at him - not wanting to offend his friends. As overwhelming as it is meeting them, they seem friendly enough - not to mention that none of them seem to dislike you, putting you more at ease. Finally, the last two boys appear. One of them, the smaller of the two, has bright red, almost orange toned hair, glowing in the sunlight: almost as if he’s on fire. The second, slightly taller one - the merman - has dark blue hair paired with icy blue eyes.

“I’m Taehyung! This is Jungkook!” the blue-haired merman greets you, smiling brightly, even as he leans heavily on the smaller boy - who you now know to be Jungkook. “I’m a merman,” Taehyung says proudly, a bright smile on his face.

Teal eyes flashing in annoyance, “And I’m a phoenix!” Jungkook butts in, pouting slightly when the older boy doesn’t introduce him before elbowing him in the rib playfully. Taehyung, however, only laughs him off.

Heart gripping, you can’t help but be jealous of the interaction. You’ve never had friends you could play with like that. Suddenly, Taehyung jerks slightly, his knees buckling under his weight. Before he can fall, Seokjin and Jimin’s hands instantly reach out for him, steadying the merman. The brief action only causes your chest to tighten. Is that what having friends was like? “Are you okay?” you blurt out, looking at Taehyung’s wobbly legs worriedly. The merman blinks at you before letting out a sheepish, boxy smile.

“Uh… Yeah... it’s just a little weird - I’m not used to having legs. But Hoseok couldn’t stop talking about you this morning and we all wanted to meet you!” Taehyung replies. You look up at Hoseok curiously, the younger boy’s cheeks tinging pink as he looks away, rubbing the back of his head shyly.

“Don’t tell her that… it’s embarrassing,” Hoseok mumbles under his breath. You stare at him for a couple of moments before letting out a little giggle. The boys look at you in surprise as you laugh, before turning to each other in confusion. You can’t help yourself, however, because as strange as the experience is, you find yourself happier than you’ve been in a long time. You’ve never been surrounded by this many children before. Back when you were a princess, you didn’t have any friends - only the children of dukes and duchesses to play with; and even they would only visit every so often, when their parents had business with yours.

“____?” Hoseok asks, poking your cheek as he tries to get your attention. Biting your lip, you greet them all with a bright smile - a real one. You smile so wide, it hurts your cheeks, but you can’t help yourself.

“It’s nice to meet you all! I’m ____, I hope we can be friends,” you blurt out without thinking. Silence fills the air for a couple of moments causing you to bite your lips. Had you made a mistake? Deflating slightly, you shrink under their blank stares, their curious gaze focused intently on you. Had you done something wrong in your excitement? Was asking to be their friend too much? Would Hoseok leave you now?

The silence stretches on for what seems like an eternity - but in reality, it is only a couple of moments. Then, all of a sudden, it’s broken by a chorus of laughter. Your eyes widen as all the boys begin chuckling. Fearing the worst, your fists clench into the skirt of your dress, balling the material as you hold it tightly.

“Yeah! Let’s be friends. For a long time,” the boys all chime in, bright smiles on their faces. Even Namjoon chimes in, his once wary gaze softening as he looks at your small, frightened frame. The moment those words fall from their lips, your heart soars, your chest lifting as happiness blooms within you.

Friends. You have friends.

Drawn out of your musings, you blink in surprise at your surroundings. Somehow, you’d moved on muscle memory alone - and now, were by the firepit in the room that served as both your kitchen and dining room in the tower. Except, you hadn’t just moved to this room on muscle memory, you’d also somehow managed to begin cooking dinner. Blinking in confusion at the cut-up vegetables and meat, you simply shake your head. Turning to the pot hanging over the firepit, the vessel already filled with the water, you add in the vegetables and meat before haphazardly throwing in the herbs for the stew. However, without Hoseok, you’re unable to light the fire under the pot, which means you have to go find him.

You turn to one of the windows, your eyes narrowing when you realise it’s going to be dark soon. Yet, Hoseok still isn’t home. Eyebrows furrowing, you decide that perhaps it may be worth looking for him. You have a while for the stew to cook anyway - and there are only a few places Hoseok could be - that is - if he’s nearby. Grabbing your cloak to shield you from the evening chill, you wrap it around your shoulders before making your way up the tower. Briefly, you stop in your room, wondering if Hoseok was in there. He isn’t - and travelling a little further up, you know he’s not in his own room either.

With a sigh of frustration, you descend back down the stairs, checking each room of the tower for any signs of your best friend. He’s not in any of them, which means he’s either in his den or in the Goblin’s Glade - the little clearing where you and your friends hang out. You decide to try the den, considering it’s a little closer than the meadow. Exiting the tower, you head off in the direction you know Hoseok’s den to be in.

You remember the first time you’d found out Hoseok had a secret den - you’d heard the stories of course, about dragons and their dens - and how they would steal treasures from people to horde in their nests. You hadn’t believed any of them, especially since Hoseok had never shown any tendency for hoarding - nor had you ever seen a den. Until he’d disappeared one day - when you were twelve years old.

Seven years ago

“Hobi?” you call out, wandering through the tower as you scour the area for your draconic best friend. Small pout marring your face, your eyebrows scrunch as he’s nowhere to be found. Leaving the confines of the tower, you look around the clearing for any signs of the copper-haired dragon.

“Hobi?!” you shout once again, your voice carrying through the forest.

“____, what’s up?” a voice suddenly asks. Jumping, you let out a shriek before turning to the newcomer. Namjoon hovers over you, his large eagle wings spanning around him as he glides on the air.

“Namjoon! Don’t do that!” you cry out, sending him a scowl. The older boy simply laughs at you before gracefully landing on the ground. Or at least, it would have been a graceful landing - if he hadn’t been Namjoon, because in classic Namjoon fashion, the moment his feet land, he almost trips. “Will you ever stop being so clumsy?” you tease, cocking your hip to the side and placing your hands on them.

Namjoon sneers at that, dusting himself off, “One day! I’m still getting used to them you know,” he mutters under your breath. You let out a little giggle at his words. It had surprised you that the forest creatures weren’t born with every one of their attributes - no instead, they slowly came into them over time - kind of like their own version of adulthood. Sure, they were born with some fantastical features - like their eyes, or ears - but the rest usually came with age. Seokjin had fully come into his elven self, and thus his magic, when he’d turned fourteen - three years after you had met him, and Yoongi had fully transitioned into a dryad the year after Seokjin’s.

Namjoon, however, had only come into his wings a month ago, when he’d turned fourteen. Briefly, you wonder when Hoseok would change. So far, he still looked mostly human - if it weren’t for his draconic eyes. “Thinking about Hoseok?” Namjoon asks, a cheeky grin on his face as his dimple indent. Instantly, your face heats before you playfully smack him. Or at least, you attempt to - but Namjoon sees it coming, his eagle eyes catching the movement instantaneously and allowing him to dodge.

“Does the wittle pwincess still have a wittle cwush on Hobi Hobi?” Namjoon teases as he reaches out to pinch your cheeks. Batting his hands away, his words cause your cheeks to heat further.

“Sh-shut up! It’s not like that!” you screech in indignation. Namjoon lets out a little tut before looking at you impishly.

“If you say so, Princess,” he sing songs.

“Stop calling me that!” you scowl, stomping your foot while letting out a huff.

“Okay, okay! Anyway, why were you calling out for Hoseok?” Namjoon asks, looking at you curiously. Cheeks still flushed, your nose scrunches as you remember why you left the tower.

“I can’t find him, do you know where he is?” you ask, cocking your head to the side, your previous ire completely forgotten. Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow in worry.

“Was he not in the tower? He’s not with any of us. Jimin, Tae and Kook are playing in the Merfolk Mangroves and Seokjin and Yoongi went to the forest edge for a walk. I was reading in my nest when I heard you calling out for Hoseok,” Namjoon replies. Hearing that, your eyebrows only furrow further in confusion.

“But- he told me he was staying with you last night? He was supposed to be back this morning, but he hadn’t shown up. It’s afternoon now, so he should have been back,” you inform. The look of shock and slight unease on Namjoon’s face worries you. “What’s wrong?” you ask.

“He wasn’t with me last night,” Namjoon replies. Your eyes widen slightly, heart thundering in your chest. Had Hoseok lied to you? Seeing the worry evident on your face, Namjoon reaches out and places a hand on your shoulder. “It’s okay, I can track him,” Namjoon says. Biting your lip, you nod your head, watching as Namjoon begins sniffing the air for Hoseok’s scent.

“He’s… he’s close?” Namjoon says, confusion laced in his voice. Namjoon gestures towards you to follow him as he begins walking behind the tower. You follow him through the thicket of trees, Namjoon sniffing the air every now and then as he tracks his friend.

Eventually, you reach a small hollowed-out cave. Your head cocks to the side as you take it in. Trees grow out of the rocks, the roots entwining around the boulders that form the entrance to the cave. Vines of ivy hang down around the entrance as iridescent mushrooms and flowers bloom around the bark that surrounds the cave. Moss blankets almost every other inch of the cave, the plush, vibrant foliage cushioning the rough terrain of the rock.

“He’s in there - and I think I hear snoring,” Namjoon says. His words confuse you - why would Hoseok be sleeping in there? Especially when he has his own room in the tower you both live in. Sure, the tower isn’t the epitome of comfort, but surely it would be better than a cave. “You wanna go in?” Namjoon asks. Taking a deep breath, you nod. Hoseok had never hidden from you before, you’ve lived together for five, almost six years now - you didn’t keep secrets from each other.

Slowly, the two of you approach the cave, dread settling deeper and deeper into your bones with every step you take. Once you pass the threshold of the cave, you expect it to be dark, and dimly lit by the light from the entrance - however, just like the tower, the inside is lit up by Hoseok’s dragon flames.

Illuminated by brilliant, amber flames of Hoseok’s dragon fire, the interior flashes in almost blinding light. Scores and scores of treasure litter the cave, different trinkets of gold and silver strewn across haphazardly. The cave is larger than you expected, Hoseok laying in the middle of it all, curled up on a little mound of gold coins. However, he doesn’t look completely like Hoseok.

No - instead, there’s a large tail springing out from his back, the leather looking appendage curling around the treasure and flicking absentmindedly as your best friend sleeps. The tail isn’t the only difference, however: two large, leather wings curl around his body, the limbs dwarfing his smaller frame, and two curled horns twist out of his head. The scales that make up his draconic features are a copper tinted red, glowing an iridescent scarlet in the bright lighting of his flames.

Suddenly, his nose twitches and then with a whine, and a huff - a puff of smoke escaping his nose - Hoseok blinks awake. The moment his eyes open, you’re met with his familiar hazel eyes, his gaze instantly finding and locking with yours. The two of you stare at each other for what feels like millennia, Namjoon quietly sneaking out and leaving the two of you by yourself.

All of a sudden, Hoseok springs to his feet, his draconic features retreating into his body as he looks at you in fear. “____- I can explain,” Hoseok quickly calls out, taking a few steps towards you. But immediately tears pool in your eyes, and before he can reach you, you run out of the cave. Blindly, you race through the forest, your chest aching with each step you take - though, you don’t know whether it’s from running or from the heartache of seeing Hoseok’s draconian attributes.

Out of the blue, you hear the heavy beating of wings before arms wind around your small form, bringing you to a stop. The telltale scent of burnt amber and pine fills your senses and despite yourself, you find yourself calming down. Sinking into Hoseok’s scent, tears heavily pool into your eyes. “Why?” you croak out, not understanding why Hoseok would hide such a huge part of himself from you. When had he changed? You know it doesn’t happen overnight - and with the amount he’s changed, it has to have been a while. How long had he kept something this big from you?

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for you to see me like that, I’m sorry. Please don’t be scared of me. ____, please,” Hoseok begins crying, little whimpers escaping his lips as he holds you tighter. Over and over again, he keeps muttering out little apologies, his tears falling onto your shoulder and wetting the cotton of your shirt. His words ricochet through your ears, ringing loudly throughout your being. Why was he apologising?

Placing your hands onto his arm, you slowly unwind them from your body before turning to him. When you see him again, he looks like he’s always done - human - other than his eyes. The bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks mirror yours, you know they do - but unlike yours - his are filled with fear, trepidation and dread. “Hoseok? Hobi- what are you talking about? I’m not afraid of you. Why would I be?” you ask him, pushing away your hurt at having him hide his draconian form from you.

“You ran away from me- after seeing me… like that,” Hoseok whispers, his voice carrying heavy through the quiet forest. Your eyes widen as you realise what he’s talking about - he thinks you’re afraid of him.

“Idiot. I ran because I was hurt, not because I was scared,” you reply quietly, your head lowering to look at the ground. He thought you were scared? How could you be? He’s Hoseok. He’s your best friend - the one who had saved you from your loneliness all those years ago.

“Hurt?” Hoseok repeats, looking at you in confusion. Nodding, you kick your feet slightly.

“You went through your change... but you didn’t tell me. Why?” you ask. Had you done something to betray his trust? Had you done something that made him feel like he couldn’t be completely honest with you?

“I was scared… I don’t- I don’t look human anymore. What if you didn’t want to be my friend anymore? What if you start to hate me?” Hoseok asks, his voice hoarse as he lays his insecurities at your feet. Tears brim in your eyes and you let out a little cry before running and hugging him tightly.

“I could never hate you- or be scared of you. Hoseok, you are my best friend. My dragonbest friend. I ran away because you kept this big secret from me. Not because I was scared of you. I’m sorry,” you apologise, feeling somewhat responsible for his pain.

“I’m sorry too. I should have trusted you…” Hoseok mumbles, returning your hug. You smile into his hug. “Are you sure… you won’t hate me? Or be scared of me? Now that I look like a monster?” Hoseok asks. You tut and shake your head.

“You’re not a monster - you’re a dragon. My dragon, remember? You promised. And yes, I’m sure,” you reply earnestly. Nothing but sincerity in your voice, Hoseok frowns.

“How?”

“Because you were there for me... when no one else was.”

Entering Hoseok’s den, you note that the torches are lit up and as usual, the dazzling amber-gold flames illuminate the cave. Hoseok’s treasure trove had grown over the years - your dragon unable to help himself whenever he’d see something shiny. Sometimes, he’d even travel to the villages that bordered the forest, looking for any shiny trinkets he could find. Gold coins, precious jewels and various different ornate articles are strewn all over the place. You know Hoseok has no use for them nor does he have any concept of monetary value - he only collects them because he likes them - but you can’t help but liken them to the gold coffers of the palace. Not that you remember much of them - just that they were filled with excessive wealth.

Eyes scouring over the cave, you find no sign of your dragon and with a sigh, you exit the den. That left only one more place he could be: the Goblin’s Glade - if he was around here. Though, looking at the sky, you know there’s no real reason for him to be anywhere else. If by some chance he’d ventured further into the forest, you had no idea where he could be - but the chances of that are slim; Hoseok very rarely went somewhere without telling you, especially now.

Turning on your heel, you trek back the way you came. Your feet move automatically as you trudge through the grass and towards the Goblin’s Glade. You’d been there so many times, the meadow being where you would frequently meet up with the rest of your friends, that the path towards it was ingrained in the soles of your feet. Some of your fondest memories took place in the meadow - including the first time you had really realised the extent of your feelings for Hoseok. Sure, you’d always had a crush on him - who wouldn’t, he was the most enamouring dragon shifter you’d ever met. Well - really the only one, but you had met other creatures - and you’d never been attracted to them like you had Hoseok.

Three years ago

“Get her!” Jimin calls out, the nymph running after you, even as you agilely escape his clutches. Your eyes widen in surprise when Jimin pops up in front of you all of a sudden.

Looking at him from the corner of your eyes, the first thing that you notice is the mahogany vines that ensnare his thick neck, pale pink blossoms and vibrant jade leaves adorning the vines. The next thing you notice is his eyes flashing magenta before he swipes you with his arm. Moving on instinct honed into you by Seokjin, you instantly duck, narrowly evading his hand. Jimin cries out in surprise and a cackle of triumph escapes your lips as you watch the nymph trip over a tree root - clearly, Yoongi had caused it to grow rapidly from the ground. Momentarily, you turn to the dryad, perched on a tree branch above you and smile at him in gratefulness.

“Thanks, Yoongi!” you call out. Suddenly, a flash of dark hair catches your eyes from the corner of your eyes - Seokjin. You let out a tut of annoyance before ducking under the elf’s arm as he attempts to wrap his arms around you. Turning around, you grin at Seokjin, sticking your tongue out before continuing your sprint.

The eight of you were currently playing a game Jungkook had coined ‘Capture the Princess’ - in which, the lot of you were split into two teams of four, one holding the princess and her knights - and the other team making up the evil villains. Really, it was just an overcomplicated game of tag. Usually, you’d draw lots for who got to be the princess, and much to your chagrin, today you’d drawn the shortest stick. Of course, it gave your friends a wonderful reason to tease you about your royal heritage - even though you’d long since abandoned it.

Your current team consisted of Yoongi, Namjoon and Taehyung - the three making up the ‘knights’ while Seokjin, Hoseok, Jimin and Jungkook made up the villains. With Jimin’s ankle still entangled in the roots thanks to Yoongi, and Namjoon having tackled Seokjin out of the blue, you’re left with Hoseok and Jungkook chasing you. The two-winged shifters fly above you, causing you to yelp in surprise as you make a break for the riverbank.

“____ watch out!” Taehyung calls out from the river - usually, he’d be on the ground running with the rest of you - however, after the third game he’d grown tired of his legs and retreated back to the water- feeling much more comfortable with his tail. Your eyes widen as Taehyung ricochets a jet of water just past your left shoulder, where Jungkook had attempted to swoop down to capture you. The stream of water collides directly with Jungkook’s wings, drowning the feathers in water and grounding him.

“Damn it, Taehyung! You know I can’t fly properly with wet wings,” Jungkook scowls, the competitiveness in him flaring as he pouts over missing his opportunity to capture you. A sudden flare of heat emanates from behind you, and despite yourself, you turn to look back. Jungkook’s wings are ablaze, dazzling with golden flames, the vermillion and crimson feathers scintillating under the amber-hued flashes of fire. However, the momentary distraction is all you need for Hoseok to catch up to you.

“I’ve got you!” Hoseok calls in triumph, his clawed hand gently reaching out for you. In a last-ditch effort to evade him, you skid to a halt and lower yourself, attempting to duck. However, the minute you do, your foot slides against the slippery riverbank and you feel yourself falling backwards. Hoseok instantly calls out your name, reaching for you - but it’s too late - because you’ve already fallen into the river.

The ice-cold water rushes around you, drenching your entire body in its frigid embrace. Rapidly rushing currents surround you as you submerge further into the river, your heart racing as you desperately try to hold your breath, even as you claw for the surface - but it’s n use, because the current is far too strong for you to fight - or even attempt to swim to the surface. Heart hammering in your chest, you try to keep yourself as calm as possible - knowing Taehyung would come to your rescue soon.

You don’t have to wait long, because moments after being submerged, you notice Taehyung’s strong, ice-blue scaled tail. Even deep in the river, his tail iridescences with a pearlescent hue, drawing attention to it. Desperately, you reach out for him, Taehyung’s tail beating in an almost entrancing motion as he swims towards you. It only takes him a couple of moments to fight the current and reach you, even as you’re carried further down the river. Within moments, Taehyung reaches out to you, grasping your outstretched hand tightly before turning and swimming back upwards.

Breaching the surface, you gasp for air, Taehyung quickly dragging you towards the edge of the riverbank. Instantly, you begin coughing and sputtering, trying to get the water out of your lungs before gasping for air. Strong arms wrap around you, pulling you into an incredibly warm chest, the scent of burnt amber and pine filling your senses. Though, this time, you don’t need his scent to tell you it’s Hoseok - you can feel it just from the intensity of the heat he’s radiating.

“Fuck. ____, are you okay?” Hoseok asks, his hands rapidly moving over your arms, whimpers escaping his lips as he feels how utterly cold your skin is.

“F-Fine. J-J-Just cold,” you stutter out, your body shivering in an attempt to warm you up.

“You need to get her home, Hoseok,” Seokjin calls out. Hoseok nods swiftly before picking you up in his arms easily. However, you don’t hear much else, because soon, you’re blacking out.

The next thing you know, you’re waking up in your bed. Your eyebrows furrow as the memories come rushing back and you let out a small groan. By the Old Elders, you had to be more careful - the riverbank was dangerous, the surface of the river deceptively calm; hiding not only the depth but the strong currents underneath as well. The boys had warned you - hell, Taehyung himself had warned you, knowing better than anyone how harsh the currents were. Really, having experienced it, you have to wonder just howstrong Taehyung’s tail is for him to so easily navigate through those harsh conditions.

Sighing, you snuggle further into the mattress, more than happy to relish in the warmth after the freezing depths of the river. With a relaxed sigh, you snuggle further into the hard warmth that surrounds you. Wait. Hard warmth? Your bed isn’t hard. Instantly, your eyes shoot open and you come face-to-chest with none other than Hoseok. Involuntarily, a squeak of surprise escapes your lips - why was he in your bed?

Of course, this isn’t the first time you’d shared a bed - Hoseok would frequently crawl into your bed when you were younger, both as a medium of heat during the cold nights the sparse tower would experience, as well as a deterrent to your nightmares. Of course, you’d outgrown the nightmares ultimately, and eventually, you and Hoseok had created better furniture and bedding to protect yourselves - well, more you - from the cold winter nights.

Now, however, it feels different. He’s pressed tightly against you, blazing heat emanating from his chest - most likely in an attempt to warm you up, a gesture you were incredibly grateful for. Shifting back slightly, you use the opportunity to study him a little. It’s dark outside, the large window letting in thick streams of moonlight to light up your room. Had you slept the entire evening away?

Bright beams of moonlight settle over Hoseok, causing his deep, tanned skin to gleam under the pristine light. You’ve always known Hoseok is beautiful - but under the moonlight, he looks completely and utterly ethereal. His russet hair glistens, the long locks falling into his eyes. Your eyes trace his features, the elegant slant of his nose, his defined, sharp jaw, the soft swells of his cheeks - not to mention his heart-shaped, soft and utterly kissable lips.

Wait.

Kissable lips?

Instantly, heat floods your cheeks. Kissable?! Why the hell had that crossed your mind. Did you want to kiss Hoseok? I mean, of course you’ve thought about it - he was far too attractive for his own good. Not to mention how kind he is; or how his smile lights up the room, and how really, he’s the only person who can make you feel safe. Fuck - the boys had always teased you about your childhood crush, but had it somehow morphed into something more over the years?

“Boar meat… ____,” Hoseok mumbles under his breath, his eyes moving under his eyelids as he dreams about whatever it is he’s dreaming off. His mutters cause you to giggle slightly, even as you attempt to stifle them so as not to wake him up. Your gaze flicking over his features, and a smile involuntarily curling over your face, you can’t help but roll your eyes playfully as he continues mumbling. Suddenly, you stop - because if you’re smiling over the fact that he muttered your name after boar meat, you’ve got to have it bad.

“____… that’s my gold,” Hoseok mutters almost incoherently, his eyebrows furrowing slightly, a pout forming on his face. Shaking your head, you snuggle closer to him, your head resting in the crook of his nest. The moment you shuffle closer to him, Hoseok places his nose against your head before he takes in a deep breath, his arm tightening around your waist. By the Old Elders, he’s such a dork. But at least, he’s your dork.

Drawn out of your reverie, you arrive at the open field, a smile on your face as you remember the day fondly. There was nothing that soothed you or brought you as much happiness as Hoseok’s embrace. Something about being in his arms just felt right, felt like safety - like home, in a way nothing else did. Which is why, you have to find him soon - because with every moment that passes without you knowing where he is, or if he’s okay, your heart grips with worry and fear. You have no idea what you would do if you lost Hoseok.

Entering the clearing, you scan the area for any signs of life, your friends, or even Hoseok. However, as usual, no one is to be seen. You pull your lower lip between your teeth, chewing on it as worry clouds your head. It’s dark now: the sun has long since set. The moon is out in full force, illuminating the forest in its dewy, pristine light. That was something you were eternally grateful for - the magic of the forest amplified the moonlight, allowing all the creatures that made the forest their home to see clearly at night. Nonetheless, bioluminescent mushrooms light the ground, prismatic flowers incandesce around the trees: their vines clinging to the bark, while opalescent fireflies flitter about; their gleaming light only lighting up the forest further. It’s as if, under the light of the moon, the forest came to life.

Hoping beyond hope, and sending a silent prayer to any of the Old Elders of the Forest that would listen to you, you pray that you had somehow missed Hoseok and that by some miracle he was back at the tower. A sliver of dread passes through you, what if something had happened to him? It was no longer safe for him to be out for long times - not since you’d turned eighteen. The day after your eighteenth birthday, princes and their guards had begun turning up at the forest, looking for you, ready to slay the dragon and rescue you. Of course, it was all ridiculous - because you didn’t needrescuing - you’re happy where you are - with Hoseok. Sure, you’d tried explaining that to the princes, but they hadn’t listened to you, instead, trying their best to fight Hoseok.

All of a sudden, you hear a commotion coming from near where your tower is located. It seems like people are yelling and your chest immediately tightens, your eyes widening as your hands begin trembling with fear. Then, a roar. A dragon roar. Turning on your heel instantly, you sprint back towards the tower, your feet thundering across the grass-cushioned ground as you run as fast as you can. Racing back, your heart hammers in your chest, your lungs burning for oxygen while the muscles in your leg smart at being pushed so hard so suddenly - but you implore them to move faster - you have to get to Hoseok.

Skidding to a halt when you reach the tower, your heart leaps to the back of your throat, your knees almost buckling at the sight. Hoseok is heavily leaning on Yoongi, the dryad’s support the only thing keeping him up. Seokjin, Taehyung, and Namjoon driving off the last of the vanguard, the knights retreating under the merciless barrage of arrows, rapid jets of water and unrelenting gusts of wind from your friends. Bright flashes light up the night as magic spells fly around, the guards trying their best to retreat from the commotion. However, you ignore your friends, instead, running towards Hoseok.

“W-what happened?” you cry out as you help Yoongi support Hoseok. Your dragon whines reassuringly, though it comes out more pained than anything, trying to let you know he’s okay. Now that you’re closer to him, you notice the sheen of perspiration that coats his forehead, his clothing ripped in various places, belying the various cuts and scrapes that litter his skin.

“Those knights invaded the forest. They were looking for you and found Hoseok instead. When we heard the commotion, Hoseok was already fighting them - he’s badly hurt. One of them shot him in the stomach as he tried to flee,” Yoongi replies through gritted teeth. Involuntarily, a sob escapes your lips, though you stifle it. This is no time for you to be crying, Hoseok needs your help.

Carrying Hoseok into the tower, you and Yoongi begin lifting him up the stairs. “We need to get him to my room. His room is too far up the tower, we won’t be able to get him up there,” you quickly say, even as you try to blink away the tears. This is all your fault. If you weren’t with Hoseok, if Hoseok hadn’t promised to protect you, none of this would be happening to him.

“Stop worrying - he’ll be fine. Jimin went to get Jungkook,” Yoongi snaps, his green eyes flashing. You bite your lip - you’d spent so much time with the boys, that you could read each other clearly. “Also stop blaming yourself. You belong here, and Hoseok would fight anyone and anything that would try taking you away,” Yoongi reprimands and you know he means well, but it only has you feeling guiltier.

“That’s the problem,” you whisper. You don’t want Hoseok to fight, you want him safe, with you, for as long as you can have him. Before Yoongi can reply, the door to the tower bursts open, Namjoon and Seokjin quickly scaling the tower stairs and reaching you in no time. Seokjin swiftly takes your position, helping Hoseok up the stairs and towards your room, something you’re utterly thankful for. Hoseok was a lot heavier than he looked.

“How are you doing?” Namjoon asks, looking at you in worry. His eyes trail from your tear-filled eyes to your slightly swollen face.

“I’m not the one hurt, Namjoon,” you reply, almost bitterly.

It’s all your fault.

As if reading your thoughts, Namjoon pulls you in for a hug. His strong arms wrap around your body, enveloping it in his embrace, but your hands stay limply against your sides. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t ask to have those princes come to save you. None of us blame you, and Hoseok definitely doesn’t either,” Namjoon says quietly. A sob escaping your mouth, you muffle them, and instead, causing you to hiccup.

“But I blame myself,” you reply quietly. Namjoon tuts slightly but tightens his embrace.

“Come on, let’s go. Jungkook’s probably already up there,” Namjoon says before taking your hand in his and leading you up towards your room. You get there just in time to see Jungkook fly in through your window, his body shifted into his complete phoenix form as Jimin clings to his back.

You watch as Jungkook perches beside your bed, leaning over Hoseok, his glowing teal eyes roving over each and every inch of Hoseok’s body as he examines all his injuries. His gaze stops directly over his stomach, where an open wound lies - most likely where the arrow punctured Hoseok. Closing his eyes, Jungkook lets little teardrops fall over Hoseok’s body, starting from his stomach and making his way around any cuts and scrapes your dragon has. Instantly, the phoenix tears begin working their magic, Hoseok’s skin knitting back together until it seems he hasn’t been hurt at all. Seeing his wounds clear up, you let out a deep sigh of relief. Once he’s all patched up, Jungkook shifts back into his human form.

“He’s fine now, his wounds are all healed. But he’ll need to rest for a couple of hours. He’ll also need some food to get up his strength, he’s pretty much exhausted of any energy,” Jungkook informs, his gaze levelled on you.

“I have dinner prepared, but I can’t get the fire started without Hoseok,” you mutter.

Nodding, “Alright, let’s go. I’ll light it up for you,” Jungkook says before gesturing you out of the room.

“We’ll also leave. We’ll see you tomorrow to check up on him,” Seokjin says before guiding the rest of the members out. However, before leaving, he places his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly. You relish in his comfort, sending him a grateful smile. Then he leaves.

Guiding Jungkook towards the kitchen, you gesture him towards the filled pot. Gently, Jungkook sucks in a deep breath before blowing gently, a stream of golden flames emanating from his mouth. It’s not as ferocious as Hoseok’s fire, nor does it burn at hot, but there’s a certain warmth through it. You watch as Jungkook leans over the pot, a grin on his face. “Boar meat? He’ll love that when he wakes up,” he comments, stirring the pot. Then, you watch in confusion as Jungkook drops another tear into the pot. “That’ll help him gain his strength quicker. Don’t worry so much, when he wakes up he’ll be fully healed and as energised as he always is,” Jungkook says. You nod quietly, muttering your thanks.

Jungkook looks at you intently, your eyes downcast and refusing to meet his gaze. “It’s not-” Jungkook begins, but before he can finish, you let out a bitter scoff.

“It’s not my fault I know. Everyone keeps saying that, but it feels like my fault. If I wasn’t here, Hoseok wouldn’t be hurt. If I wasn’t here, those princes and knights wouldn’t come to the forest. If I wasn’t here, you’d all be better off. I’m a danger to all of you,” you suddenly burst out, your fists clenched as you breathe heavily.

“Do you really believe that?” Jungkook asks, his head cocking to the side. Jaw flexing as you grit your teeth, you nod while clenching your fist tighter, your fingernails digging into your skin.

“Yeah okay. Sure, if you weren’t here Hoseok wouldn’t be hurt. And sure, if you weren’t here those princes and knights wouldn’t keep coming. But you’re wrong in thinking that we’d be better without you. Hoseok would be heartbroken - he’d be crushed if you were to go. And so would the rest of us. We’re not just friends anymore, ____. We’re family. And every single one of us loves you and we’d fight to keep you here. In the forest. Where you belong. With us. Because that’s what family do,” Jungkook says, nothing but conviction in his eyes.

His words cause your eyes to tear up, your chest swelling with all the emotions you feel. Guilt. Worry. Happiness. Love. The conflicting feelings well up in your chest, causing your throat to tighten. It’s like you’re tongue-tied, unable to even form the words to express what Jungkook’s words mean to you. So instead, you simply smile at him, Jungkook responding with his own reassuring smile.

“I’ve got to go, but take care of him alright? And stop feeling so sorry for yourself,” Jungkook jokes.

Then, with a wink, you watch as his back lights up with blazing gold flames, and then, he flies out the window. You turn to the pot, watching the water boil as the meat and vegetables soften into a thick stew. Grabbing a ladle, you begin stirring the pot absentmindedly, wondering how long it’d be till Hoseok woke up.

Once the stew is ready, you grab a bowl and begin serving Hoseok a portion. Carefully, you carry it up to your room before placing it on the rickety table beside your bed. The sight of the table brings a sad smile on your face. It’s uneven, and wobbles but Hoseok had built it for you with his own hands when you were both younger. With a deep breath, you pull up a ramshackle chair and sit besides Hoseok, simply watching over him. You sit for a while, tending to Hoseok - wiping the sweat off of his forehead, brushing his hair out of his eyes and ensuring he’s comfortable.

Once again, the moonlight streams through your window, highlighting his elegant features. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he were the prince sent to rescue you. But you do know better - and he’s no prince. He’s a dragon. Your dragon. Soft sigh escaping your lips, you think back to your eighteenth birthday. It had been so easy back then, before the princes had started coming.

10 months ago

Feet shuffling, “Are you sure we can do this?” you ask, looking at Hoseok uneasily. Even as you utter your words, your dragon best friend ignores you, instead, pulling a boat out of a small alcove. You’re currently in the Merfolk Mangroves, the river that runs through it being the only way to sneak out of the enchanted forest. Sure, you could always walk to the border, but then you risked being stopped by the elves that patrolled the border - and Hoseok didn’t want any questions.

“It’s alright - don’t worry. It’s a special day, we’re gonna do something exciting!” Hoseok says cheerily as he tethers the dingy boat to the docks.

Looking around nervously, you do as Hoseok says: keeping a lookout. You’ve been to the Merfolk Mangroves a fair amount in your time in the forest, yet it never fails to amaze you each and every time. Gigantuous roots from the even more colossal mangroves twist and wind around the area, providing the environment with plenty of cover. The roots are a deep oak in colour, the bark obscured by thick blankets of olivine moss and supple viridian leaves. Streams of water drip from the roots of the mangroves, cascading downwards and into the river the runs along the forest floor.

The musky scent of the earth and the dewy scent of freshwater is thick in the air, clouding your scenes and bathing your nose in its enticing smell. An array of different creatures make their home in the Merfolk Mangroves - merfolk, of course, live in the different shallows of water - surface merfolk closer to to the riverbank and deep-river merfolk further down towards the riverbed. Nymphs, fae and elves made their homes on the branches and canopies of the trees; and of course, dryads of all kinds carved intricate burrows into the trunks. In fact, the Merfolk Mangroves is where most of the population of the forest lived - only very few lived outside the safety and magic of its comfort.

Suddenly, a voice calls out “Whatcha doing?” Instantaneously, you jump, almost slipping on the slippery bank. However, before you can fall, two hands steady you. Once comes from behind you: Hoseok, and the other, from in front. Fuck. It’s Seokjin. Looking behind him, you let out a moan of lamentation - because the rest of the boys - except for Taehyung - are also behind him, the lot of them looking at you cheekily. Though, you have no doubt that Taehyung is somewhere in the river.

“Going somewhere?” comes Taehyung’s deep, gravelly voice, causing you to sigh - and there he is.

“How did you find us?” Hoseok yells in indignation, throwing the rope that tethers the boat to the pier down. The boys only chuckle, before looking around.

“Some elves noticed you and ____ sneaking around and informed me - and well, some mermaids spotted you here and told Taehyung. So, where ya going?” Seokjin says. Hoseok curses under his breath, more than miffed that his plan had been ruined.

Hand running through his hair, “It’s ____’s eighteenth birthday - I’m taking her to the village on the edge of the forest to celebrate,” Hoseok mumbles under his breath, knowing you’ve been caught. Though, you do count your blessings that Seokjin is the elven prince - meaning that you’re not really in trouble for trying to sneak out. It had come as a surprise to you when you’d found out your friend, and the boy who’d been like your older brother while growing up, was next in line for the throne - but it had made sense. Seokjin is a powerful elf, and probably the best marksman in the entire elven vanguard.

“Hoseokie, you know it’s dangerous for the forest creatures to leave. Humans don’t like us - they hunt us for fun. Just last week a unicorn was found dead at our borders,” Seokjin says warily. Your eyes widen, a gasp falling from your lips. Unicorns were wholly innocent - who would want to kill one? Just the thought of it has you feeling sick.

“I know… I just… I wanted to do something different for her,” Hoseok mutters before looking away, his eyes downcast. Eyes softening, you look at him tenderly.

“Hobi… you don’t have to do that for me,” you reply, Hoseok shrugging.

“I know I don’t- but I want to,” comes his reply.

Seokjin lets out a little sigh before running his hand through his hair. You look at him curiously - he stands tall, his dark hair falling to his shoulders, some strands swept out of his face. Bright gold eyes glitter in the sparse beams of light that fall through the mangrove canopy, his pointed ears twitching slightly.

“There’s a tavern - just on the outskirts of the forest. It’s run by a fae I knew when I was younger. Humans and magical creatures are both allowed, but because of that, you can imagine it’s not the nicest of places. I’ll grant you permission to go for today,” Seokjin begins. As soon as he begins speaking, Hoseok’s ears twitch, his head snapping up and excitement brimming in his deep hazel eyes. “However,” Seokjin continues, a teasing smirk crawling on his face, “we have to come with you,” he finishes.

Spluttering in outrage, “What?! Why?” Hoseok bursts.

“It’s ____’s eighteenth birthday, do you really think we’d forget? Or not want to celebrate with her?” Yoongi asks, his eyes rolling as he looks pointedly at Hoseok.

“Yeah, I can’t believe you didn’t invite us,” Jimin pouts, looking at Hoseok in playful ire.

“It’s not fair Hoseokie, you can’t keep the princess to yourself,” Namjoon teases, a knowing look evident on his face. Hearing his words, both you and Hoseok blush brightly, your heads turning from each other, even as you sneakily steal side glances towards the other.

“Come on! Let’s go! I’m excited, I’ve never been out the forest,” Jungkook says, already jumping into the boat. Knowing there’s no way to get his friends to leave, Hoseok lets out a sigh of defeat, his shoulders drooping. Really, he was hoping it would be just you and him, but with the arrival of his stubborn friends, he knew it wouldn’t be possible. Really, this was the real reason he had tried to sneak out.

The seven of you cautiously enter the boat, Taehyung choosing to swim beside you until you reached the outskirts of the forest. Though, you think he did it more considering how cramped the small boat already was. You’re currently pressed between Hoseok and Yoongi’s laps, Jimin sitting on Seokjin’s lap as Namjoon and Jungkook squeeze themselves in the back.

The eight of you float down the river, carried by the gentle current Taehyung generates with his powerful tail, making sure that the boat doesn’t catch the more powerful currents underneath. You watch in awe as the forest passes you by - different creatures milling about. Fairies flitter around the high tree branches, showers of magic and fairy dust falling gently from their wings. Little pods of merfolk swim around, some sitting on the boulders on the shore waving to Taehyung before giggling between themselves.

“Woah look at that,” Jungkook says, pointing to the other side of the river. You all turn your gaze, your eyes widening when you spot the pegasus at the edge, gently sipping water.

“By the Elders, it’s rare to see pegasi, even in the forest. They’re male celestial beings, - borne only under certain conditions - when a drop of moonlight falls from the sky and onto a morning glory. Being solitary beasts, they shy away from the rest of the forest’s creatures. Today must be a lucky day, huh ____?” Seokjin asks, smiling happily at you. You nod slowly, unable to take your eyes off the creature.

Its coat is as white as white could be - so pure that it glows softly with every movement - as if made of moonlight - though, from what Seokjin says, they are moonlight themselves. His mane idly drifts around him, dancing with each gentle wisp of wind that combs through his hair. Large, white-feathered wings spring out from his back, the wingspan almost dwarfing his equine body. Each further is iridescent, gleaming in a kaleidoscope of pure pastel colours. You’ve never seen anything like it - and you’ll never see anything like it again. You can feel it - this is a once in a lifetime experience.

“There it is! The edge of the forest!” Jimin calls out, abruptly standing up in the boat and pointing towards a clearing. His sudden movement causes the boat to rock dangerously, everyone yelling out in surprise.

“Jimin! Be careful,” Namjoon admonishes. The nymph lets out a sheepish smile before taking his seat on Seokjin’s lap again.

As soon as you float through the clearing, Taehyung twists the water currents, helping the boat move to shore. Hoping out, Seokjin and hoseok drag the boat the rest of the way onto the shore, docking it until you’re ready to return home. The alcove you find yourselves is attached by a small stream to the river that runs through the enchanted forest, and really, it doesn’t look all that different. Trees line the alcove, providing ample shade with its supple foliage. The sand is soft, your sandals sinking into the ground as soon as you step onto it - but something is different.

There’s no magic in the air. No potent crackling of life or enchanting tingles or energy wafting through the atmosphere. It feels slightly strange - empty - especially since you’ve been used to the forest’s magic for over a decade of your life. Suddenly, you feel a little uneasy. Was it okay for you to leave? Would your friends be okay? Almost as if sensing your worry, Hoseok walks up beside you, his hand entwining in yours before he squeezes it reassuringly. You look up at him, smiling at him in thanks before returning his squeeze.

“Are we ready?” Seokjin asks, taking charge of navigation - which makes sense, considering he’s the only one who knows where the tavern is. You turn to the rest of your friends, noticing Taehyung’s already pulled himself out of the river and is now dressed in simple brown trousers, leather boots and a white shirt. It always surprised you that he could simply magic up some clothes for himself whenever he stepped out the water.

Guiding the group out of the alcove and out of the sparse underbrush of shrubbery, Seokjin brings you to a little hut just on the outskirts of the forest. You spot little lights a little further down - a small village just a few kilometres further down from the forest edge. You follow Seokjin closely, the group practically glued to him as you look around in wonder.

The moment you enter the tavern, your senses are overwhelmed. The atmosphere is warm, borderline stuffy from all the patrons crowding it - really, you’d be lucky to get a table for all of you together. The scent of alcohol is thick in the air, the pungent smell burning your nostrils, causing you to wrinkle your nose. Abruptly, someone bumps into you, pushing you out of the way and spilling some ale on your shoes. With a little frustrated sigh, you push further against Hoseok. Why had you chosen to come here when you could be doing something else? However, remember how excited Hoseok had been to take you out of the forest, you can’t help but smile. He had meant well, and really, this is all Seokjin’s fault anyway - he’s the one who suggested the tavern.

“Jaebum!” Seokjin calls out, the bartender looking up. His eyes flash mulberry for a moment, his dark hair framing his face in that typical, dark, bad boy style. His pointed ears are pierced in multiple locations, a silver ring sitting on his bottom lip. Even his nose and cheek are pierced - how many piercings did one guy need?

“Seokjin, what brings you to my neck of the woods? The forest too boring for you?” Jaebum asks snarkily. Seokjin simply rolls his eyes before gesturing to the group.

“It’s my friend’s birthday. We need a table,” Seokjin says simply. Jaebum rolls his own eyes before shrugging.

“Nowhere’s available,” comes Jaebum’s simple answer.

With a tut, “You know that’s not true. You couldn’t best me in illusions when we were younger, and you definitely can’t best me now,” Seokjin replies, a victorious smirk crawling onto his face. Illusions? You watch as Jaebum scowls, and then suddenly, the atmosphere ripples before changing. You watch in awe as the once crowded bar dies down right before your eyes. It’s still full, just not nearly as much as it was before. You even easily spot a table large enough to hold you and your friends.

“Thanks, Bummie,” Seokjin sing songs, causing the bartender to scowl further. Seokjin leads you to the table, gesturing to Jaebum to bring each of you a pint of ale. Appearing out of thin air, you expect a tankard of ale or something similar - but you’re pleasantly surprised by the jug of a sweet-smelling beverage in front of you.

“It’s Sugar Venom - a fae spirit. Some of the best there is. Jaebum may be a shitty spellcast, but no one can ferment spirits quite like him,” Seokjin says, a large grin on his face as he sips his drink. You watch as each of the boys looks at it curiously, before taking a sip. The sweetness tingles on your lips, the drink easily going down from how enticingly saccharine it is.

Almost an hour after drinking, all of you find yourself pleasantly tipsy, your tongue loosened by the flowing alcohol. Only Seokjin, Hoseok and Jungkook find themselves unaffected by the effects of the fae spirit. Seokjin because he was more than used to his fair share of alcohol, while Hoseok and Jungkook were unable to become intoxicated in any way - their high body temperature burning off alcohol quicker than it could affect them.

“Y-You know, hic-” Namjoon slurs, being interrupted by a hiccup, “you and ____ would make such a cute couple, Hobi,” Namjoon continues, a sleepy smile on his face. Seokjin lets out a chuckle, clapping Namjoon on the back while Jungkook snickers, Hoseok looking away in embarrassment. He steals a glance towards you; you’re smiling gently, your cheeks flushed as you look at him coyly. Though, he’s unsure if the warmth to your cheeks is because of the alcohol or embarrassment.

“I agree! How long are you gonna make us wait, Hobi? We’re tired of watching you and ____, you know,” Jimin scowls, his voice coming out louder than he’d intended. Yoongi hushes him, the two falling into a fit of giggles over seemingly nothing.

“Come on Hobi-Hobi, we’re all waiting,” Taehyung joins in, waggling his eyebrows suggestively at the dragon. Well, attempting to waggle them - in his inebriated state of mind he only manages to move them slightly.

“Yeah Hobi, ____ has been waiting a very long time for you to tell her you love her. Do you not love ____, Hobi?” you ask, your words surprising everyone. Hoseok looks at you in alarm as you begin addressing yourself in the third person, ranting and raving about how it’s not fair that he’s made you wait this long for a confession.

“____, are you okay?” Seokjin asks, looking at you in worry, even as a hint of amusement shines in his eyes.

“No!” you pout, your arms crossing around your chest as you look at Hoseok, “____ has been waiting very long for Hobi to say he loves ____. It’s not fair. ____ loves Hobi very much…” you trail off, “but he doesn’t love ____,” you mumble under your breath. The effects of the alcohol are clear and you know usually, you wouldn’t dare say any of this, but the alcohol has made you loosen your inhibitions slightly, your tongue freed under its influence. Hoseok’s heart begins beating roughly as he hears your unintended confession. Do you mean you love him as a friend… or something more?

“____ just wants Hobi kisses,” you pout, pathetically lamenting to yourself in your tipsy state. Hoseok takes in a deep breath, his heart fluttering in his chest. You love him? Like he loves you? Unable to suppress it, a wide grin crawls onto Hoseok’s face. He reaches out towards you, slipping your hand between his, your fingers entwining as he squeezes it reassuringly. Feeling his touch, you perk up, your demeanour doing a completely one-eighty as you begin smiling brightly.

“Hey pretty lady, can I buy you a drink?” comes a voice from behind you. You don’t notice, too busy gazing at Hoseok with starstruck eyes. However, immediately, Hoseok, Seokjin and Jungkook are alert, eyeing the large man in steel armour behind you warily.

“Oi, lady,” the man repeats, trying to get you to notice him, only to get annoyed when he realises your undivided attention is on the dragon next to you. Noticing the man lift his hand, Hoseok’s eyes flash dangerously, immense heat radiating around him. The boys at the table suddenly jump, blinking wearily, alcohol still clouding their heads, as they look at Hoseok’s, the tavern’s temperature rising rapidly.

“Hoseok,” Seokjin warns, looking around warily. The man’s friends have obviously noticed the commotion, all of them placing their hands on their weapons, ready to defend their friend.

“Just move along,” Hoseok growls, the sound low and threatening.

The man, realising the danger of the situation, puts his hands up in surrender before retreating. Before he leaves, however, “Why would a human want to be with a monster of all things,” he drunkenly mutters under his breath. Instantly, the heat surrounding Hoseok is doused, his spine-shivering as if Taehyung had dumped ice-cold water down his back. Hoseok’s hand turns limp in your hand, his previous happiness forgotten. The guard had a point - why would you ever want to be with him? He was a dragon, he lived in a forest - and sure you did too - but he could never give you the life you deserved.

“You could have hurt her, you know,” Seokjin sighs, shaking his head at Hoseok. The dragon simply sends an annoyed glance towards the older boy, a huff escaping his nose.

“I’d never hurt her. My flames can’t hurt her,” Hoseok says, Seokjin’s eyes widening at the admission, realising the gravity of Seokjin’s words. A fire dragon’s flames burned hotter than hellfire - and Hoseok wasn’t just an ordinary fire dragon - he was a sun dragon: their flames burning at hot and bright as the sun itself. For Hoseok’s flames to not be able to hurt you, there was only one explanation. Hoseok had chosen you to be his mate.

“Hoseok, are you serious? Does she know?” Seokjin asks, looking at you. The dragon simply shakes his head before standing up. He holds his hand out for you, and eagerly, you place yours in his. Pulling you to your feet, you stumble slightly, Hoseok easily catching you before steadying you against his side. Grinning brightly at him, you muster your alcohol-given courage, and stepping on your tip-toes, place a kiss on his cheek.

“We should go home. It’s getting late,” Hoseok says, ignoring the way his skin tingles from where your soft lips brushed oh so innocently against his flesh.

Seokjin looks at him pointedly before nodding. Waving his hands at the boys, he urges them to get up. One hand wrapped around your waist, he guides you out of the tavern, but not before throwing a leather-bound bag of gold to Jaebum in payment for the alcohol. Hoseok crinkles his nose in distaste, not really wanting to hand over his precious gold to the barkeep, but knowing it was worth it if you had a good birthday.

The next thing you know, you’re waking up in your bedroom, Hoseok gently placing you down on your bed. When had you fallen asleep? You remember Hoseok carrying you out of the bar and towards the boat. He’d been incredibly warm, his body heat a creature comfort against the chill of the night. Clearly, you’d fallen asleep on the journey home. “Hoseok?” you croak. The haziness of the alcohol had mostly ebbed away by now, your cheeks tinging pink as you remember how you’d acted earlier in the night. You’re just lucky it’s dark in your bedroom, preventing Hoseok from noticing your embarrassment.

“Shh, it’s okay. Go back to sleep,” Hoseok mumbles, as he tucks you into bed.

Swallowing thickly, you gather up your courage. You had to say in now, “I meant what I said earlier. I like you… more than a friend,” you rasp, swallowing once again as the words escape your lips. Hoseok smiles gently at you, brushing your hair out of your face. Your eyelids flutter, your forehead nuzzling into the warmth of his hand.

“I know you did, but… can you give me some time?” Hoseok asks, his voice quiet, as if afraid to utter out the words. Smiling tenderly at him, you sluggishly lift your hand and entwine your fingers into his.

Then, bringing his hand to your lips, you press a soft kiss against the back of his hand. “Time? I’ll give you all the time you need, Hoseok. I’d wait for you forever. I love you,” you whisper, voice laced with nothing but love. Hoseok’s chest tightens, his heart fluttering between his ribcage.

“I love you too,” Hoseok whispers back, however, you’re already fast asleep, his confession falling on deaf ears. He sits for another few moments, simply watching you sleep. He does love you - there’s no truer truth in the world than his love for you. It was only reinforced by his dragon choosing you as his mate. But his mind flashes back to the tavern, ‘Why would a human want to be with a monster of all things’. The man’s words ring loudly in his head, and Hoseok has to wonder if his love was enough for you - if he was enough for you.

Looking at Hoseok, you smile sadly at him. You had meant what you said that night, you would wait forever for him - but looking at him now, you wonder if you even should. After that night, the knights and princes had started invading the forest - looking out for you. They would come randomly, giving Hoseok no time to prepare for them, but your dragon is strong, and fierce and ferocious - with the power of the sun burning inside his chest, and time after time, he’d manage to drive away the princes or knights, or whoever came for you.

Except for today.

Today is the first time Hoseok’s been so badly injured - if it were anywhere else, the arrows would have deflected off of his dragonhide, his scales harder than the strongest metals. But he’d been hit in his stomach, the only weak point in his leather armour. It has been almost a year since they started coming for you - though, you have no idea why. You know your stepmother had said to leave you here till a prince could come to save you, but you hadn’t believed her. You knew she wanted to be rid of you - so whywere they coming? It doesn’t make sense.

You avert your gaze from Hoseok’s face, instead, staring intently at his hand. Hesitantly, you reach out for it, mindless playing with his fingers as you ponder your thoughts. Was it worth going back? You didn’t want Hoseok to be hurt - you never want to see him like this again. But in order to never see him hurt again, you have to never see him again and you don’t think your heart could take it. For the last decade, Hoseok is all you’ve known, all you’ve needed. Could you so easily leave him? Definitely not - at least, not easily. But you could leave him - it would hurt, more than you could even imagine - but you could do it, if it meant he’d be safe.

“Should- should I leave?” you mutter quietly to yourself, your eyebrows furrowing.

“Please don’t,” comes a hoarse reply.

Head snapping towards Hoseok, your eyes widen as you realise he’s awake. “Hoseok!” you cry out. Immediately, you begin fussing over him, making sure he’s okay. Hoseok lets out a little chuckle before grabbing your hands and stilling you.

“I’m okay. I’m a dragon remember? Also, nothing will heal you faster than Jungkook’s tears,” Hoseok says, smiling brightly at you. Your heart grips in your chest seeing his smile, the little dimples indenting above his lips.

“Oh! That reminds me, here, you should eat,” you say, picking up the bowl of the now cold stew and handing it to Hoseok. “Sorry it’s cold, I made it a while ago,” you apologise. Hoseok simply stares at the bowl, however, blinking in disbelief.

Taking a deep breath, “Is that boar meat?” Hoseok asks, his body perking up. Despite yourself, you smile at him, nodding happily. Hoseok swiftly grabs the bowl from you, then lightly breathing fire under the bowl, he heats it up again before tucking in. You simply watch him quietly, relishing in how happy he looks with a simple bowl of boar stew. Even doing the most mundane of things, he’s enticing.

As he eats, your earlier question still plays in your mind. Over and over again, like a broken record, your mind questions whether you should just leave - go back to the Kingdom with the next prince that comes for you. Finishing off his meal, Hoseok lets out a moan of gratitude before placing the bowl down. You get up to take it, however, Hoseok reaches out, his large hand wrapping around your wrist and halting you. You freeze, looking at him in surprise. His gaze is firm, yet melancholy, bright hazel eyes boring straight into yours.

“Would you really leave me?” Hoseok asks, his voice barely audible - just above a whisper. Goosebumps pricking at your skin, your face crumples with emotion.

“I don’t want to leave you Hoseok, but I- I can’t stand seeing you hurt. I can’t help but feel guilty because I’m the reason they’re coming, and I’m the reason for you being hurt. Seeing you today- I don’t- I don’t want to lose you,” you sniffle, your words coming out broken as you breathe deeply, trying to hold the tears back.

“If you don’t want to lose me, why would you leave?” Hoseok asks, not understanding your logic. Well, he does - somewhat - but it still doesn’t make sense. It’s not like any of the princes could best him in battle anyway - the only reason he was hurt today was because he was caught off guard.

“To protect you! It’s my fault you were hurt today,” you reply with a sniffle. Hoseok looks at you pointedly, shaking his head.

“It’s not your fault-” Hoseok begins and you open your mouth to argue, but Hoseok stops you. Abruptly, he tugs at your wrist, pulling you into his chest. Arms wrapping around you, he holds you close, “It’s not your fault because I choose to fight for you, ____. I promised you I’d protect you. I’ll never stop protecting you, ____ and I’ll never stop fighting for you - because you belong here. In this forest. In this tower. With me,” Hoseok says. Conviction is strong in his voice, his eyes staring at you earnestly.

“What if you get tired of protecting me? What if I lose you?” you mumble, burying your head in the crook of his neck. Burnt amber and pine fill your senses, your eyes fluttering shut as you breathe him in. Nothing felt like safety - nothing felt like home - the same way Hoseok did.

“I would never tire of protecting you and you would never lose me. I’m here for as long as you want me,” Hoseok says, his lithe arm tightening around your waist.

“How are you so sure?” you question, your heartbeat thundering in your chest. Hoseok is always attentive - but this time, his touch is different - more intimate. His head drops to your shoulder, his nose nuzzling into the crook of your neck - and if you didn’t know any better, you’d swear he just took in a deep breath.

Goosebumps prickle at your skin as Hoseok’s hand wanders down your arm, your skin tingling under his touch. When he gets to your hand, he wraps your palm in his much large one while lacing his fingers between yours. Gently lifting your hand, his head shifts as he presses a soft kiss to the inside of your wrist, “Because I love you. Because you’re who I chose to be my mate. Because I would protect you until the end of the world,” he confesses, his voice soft and heavily laden with emotion.

“W-what?” you ask. Pushing him back slightly, you shift over him, absentmindedly making yourself more comfortable on his lap as you stare at him in disbelief. Hoseok smiles gently at you from underneath, one hand reaching up and cupping your face.

“You’re my mate, ____. You’re who I choose to spend the rest of my life with. But- only if you want to,” Hoseok replies, pulling your chin down and leaning his forehead against yours. You stare intently into his eyes, your heart beating so rapidly you worry it’s going to burst right out of your chest. Searching, you stare into his eyes, looking for any sign of deceit, any sign of a lie - Hoseok has never lied to you before, but you have to make sure.

“A-Are you sure? You want to spend the rest of your life with me?” you ask, suddenly feeling nervous. You were just a human - someone who hadn’t even been wanted by your own parents, abandoned in the tower at a young age - did he really want to mate with you?

“Yes. You’re the only person I want to be with… but do you want to be with me?” Hoseok asks, his eyes imploring yours. Eyebrows furrowing, you look at him in confusion.

“Why would I not want to be with you? You’re the only person I want to be with too, Hoseok,” you ask, rubbing your nose against his. Hoseok lets out a dejected sigh, his eyes slightly downcast as his warm breath fans your lips.

“Because I’m a monster,” Hoseok whispers, his heart-gripping. He knows that’s what humans see him as - just like that man in the tavern that day. He’ll only ever be a monster to humans and you deserve someone better than a monster.

Placing your hands under his chin, you lift his face up. Hoseok’s eyes meet yours, his widening as he notices the mix of melancholy, understand and love in your eyes. “I meant what I said all those years ago, my love,” you say gently, Hoseok’s eyes widening in the slightest at the term of endearment. Lips curling into a tender smile, you place your head against his again and close your eyes, “You’re not a monster - you’re a dragon. My dragon,” you continue. Your words echo through his memory, and he remembers that day - when you were twelve and he was fourteen - months after he’d gone through his change. He’d hidden from you back then too, scared of how you’d seen him, but just like today, you’d alleviated all his fears with those same, simple words.

“I love you, Hoseok. Every. Single. Inch. Of you. And I want to be with you and only you - forever,” you whisper against his lips. Hoseok’s eyes flicker to your lips, your own eyes still closed as you hold him close. With every one of your words, your lips brush against him - enticing him further into you. He’s the one who’s made of magic, made of sunlight and fire, yet it’s you that has him completely bewitched and enthralled.

He wonders what your lips would feel like against yours - what you’d taste like - but, he doesn’t have to wait long - because the next thing he knows, your lips are softly pressed against his.

Soft lips against yours, Hoseok’s eyes widen for a fraction of a moment before slipping shut. He’d spent nights imagining what your lips would feel like, but his imagination could never do you any justice. Instinctively, his hand moves to loosely grip your neck, your own hands moving of their own accord to twist around his shoulders, pulling him flush against you. Deepening the kiss, Hoseok swipes at your lips, begging for entrance - and easily, you concede to him. Tongue slipping between your teeth, the silky appendage sensuously moves against yours, bathings your tastebuds in his saccharine taste.

Your kiss is slow - and sensual - your lips gently moving in tandem with each other as you slowly take in each other. Completely lost in each other, the entirety of the world gently ebbs away - until all you can taste, sense and smell are each other - as if you’re the only two people in the universe. Shifting on his lap, you press yourself further against Hoseok, the dragon letting out a small whine as you brush against his hardened length.

Breaking apart from your lips, Hoseok pants heavily, looking at you heavily, “W-we should stop now if you don’t want to go any further,” Hoseok breathes out. Shaking your head, you place another tender kiss to his lips before hiking your dress further up your thighs, the material pooling around Hoseok’s lap. With your movement, he takes in a sharp breath, the scent of your arousal permeating the air. It’s incredibly faint - but his enhanced senses pick it up.

“I want to- I want you, please,” you rasp out, your own heavy breaths intermingling with his. A guttural, almost animalistic sound emanates from Hoseok’s throat - the sound vibrating through the air and straight to your loins. Hoseok’s hands move to your waist before languidly resting on your hips - his thumbs gently rubbing them with his thumbs. Manoeuvring you closer to him, he lightly begins peppering kisses down the outline of your jaw and towards your shapely neck. Stopping by your jugular, Hoseok hums before nipping the skin there. Hands moving from his shoulders to entangle into his hair, a shallow gasp departs your lips as you feel him almost imperceptibly suckle at your flesh.

“Will you let me mark you?” Hoseok asks, nuzzling the same spot with his nose before taking a deep breath. Your naturally sweet fragrance mingles with the deeper tinges of arousal seeping from you, the intoxication scent slowly driving him while.

Feeling him purr against you, you nod above him, “Mate with me, Hoseok. Mark me as yours,” you reply breathlessly. His eyes roll into the back of his skull, his shaft twitching with excitement as you whisper the words - not a single moment of hesitation. He’d never thought words could sound so enticing.

Humming in appreciation, Hoseok diverts his attention away from your neck and down your sternum. Littering his descent with soft kisses, Hoseok’s lips flit across your skin, lavishing you with their soft attention. Writhing over his lap, you slowly begin grinding into his hips - your own moving instinctively. A groan of pleasure emanates from both your lips at the added friction, and tiring of the slow pace, you move your hands off of his shoulders. Pulling away from Hoseok, your dragon watches you intently, his glowing hazel eyes never leaving yours. Shy smile on your lips, you move your hands to the thick straps that hold your dress up, and then with a deep breath, mustering up all the courage you have, you slip them off of your shoulders.

Hoseok’s eyes widen, his gaze immediately following the dress as he watches your body slowly reveal itself to you. It only takes moments for the dress to pool at your hips loosely, exposing the entirety of your naked torso to Hoseok, yet somehow, time feels like it moves slowly, Hoseok’s gaze trailing after the motion of the dress. Hazel eyes drink you in, drinking each and every inch of your skin. With each passing minute, Hoseok commits every detail of your body to memory: every swell, every curve, every scar.

“By the Elders, you’re beautiful,” Hoseok murmurs before leaning forward and placing a kiss to the top of your right breast. Placing your hand under his chin, you angle his face upwards before dropping a kiss onto his.

Lips mashing into yours, your mouths move fervently - the ardent desire for each other burning deep within your cores. Your kiss turning urgent, Hoseok’s tongue invades your mouth, the silky appendage curling and wrapping around yours as you taste each other. With shaky fingers - whether from anticipation or lust, you have no idea - you begin tugging at Hoseok’s shirt, the material easily ripping, already damaged from his earlier fight. Warm skin bare under your touch, your hands rove over his body, tracing each contour and hardened, sinewy muscle.

Need for oxygen flaring in your lungs, the both of you do your best to ignore it - choosing instead of sink into each other. Times moves slowly, both your hands roaming over each other - as if you can’t get enough of the other’s touch. Eventually, however, the earlier need for oxygen ignited your chests with molten fire, burning your lungs with the urgent need for air. Breaking away, you breathlessly pant against each other, the mix of your warm breaths circulating the air.

Pulling up onto your knees, you gather the dress into your hands, the material bunching in your fists, before you lift it over your head, leaving you completely naked. The complete naked sight of you has Hoseok’s jaw-dropping, his mouth running dry as he takes in the beautiful sight of you. Bathed in the moonlight streaming from your window, your body glows almost ethereally under its light. Hesitantly, Hoseok reaches out for you, his palm gently cupping your breast as his thumb lazily flicks your nipple.

Under his light ministrations, a throat mewl escapes your lips, your eyes fluttering shut as he continues brushing his thumb over the nipple, teasing the peak to hardness. A shiver of pleasure runs down your spin, heat pooling in your loins as you begin squirming over him. Hands falling into his lap, you play with the buckle of his trousers, undoing them with just a little delay - your hands trembling harder with every passing second. Tugging his trousers, Hoseok lifts his hips before aiding you in shimmying them off of his body.

Once he’s completely naked, you’re unable to resist trailing your eyes down his body. Swallowing thickly, your throat runs dry at the sheer sight of him. Caramel skin is pulled taught over his muscles, each limb toned from the years he’s spent hunting in the forest, or playing with the rest of the creatures. Each muscle is tantalisingly defined and you find yourself unable to look away. You continue trailing your gaze down his chest, before stopping at his lap, your eyes widening as you spot his cock.

He’s long, and girthy - and god are they all that big? Or was it just because he’s a dragon? The base of his shaft is the thickest, his girth slowly tapering off towards the tip. His entire length is covered in little ridges, more prominent ones situated at the base of his cock. That has to be a dragon thing - though, you wouldn’t really know - especially as this is the first cock you’ve ever seen. You can’t help but wonder if he’ll even fit - though, the way it pulses under your gaze, his length throbbing with need, has you growing wetter with wanton desire - your thighs turning sticky with your own arousal.

“Enjoying yourself?” Hoseok asks, his tone light and teasing. Blush dusting your cheeks, you let out a squeak of embarrassment before ducking your head. Hoseok lets out an airy chuckle, his hands moving to cup your cheeks before lifting them up. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” Hoseok begins, placing a soft kiss to the corner of your lips, “it’s just, I could smell how wet you got staring at me,” he continues.

A gasp of shock escaping your lips, your face heats up further - until you can feel your ears burning, “Hoseok!” you squeal, before curling into him, ducking your head into the crook of his neck as you attempt to hide from him. This time, Hoseok lets out a louder laugh, his arms automatically wrapping around your waist while he peppers kisses along your shoulder. “Sorry. Sorry, I’ll stop,” Hoseok chuckles.

Pulling away from his body, you pout above him, your cheeks still flushed with heat. Hoseok leans up, repetitively placing soft kisses against your lips as he tries to placate you. Somehow, he manages to win you over, his chaste kisses turning into deeper ones. Your hands move to trail over his lean shoulders, your fingers raking over the skin as you begin gyrating over him. Every now and then, the ridged muscle of his cock brushes against your clit, drawing out breathy moans from you.

Breaking away from his kisses, though with much reluctance, “I want you,” you whisper against his lips. Groaning at your words, Hoseok’s hand slips between your bodies and into the space amidst your thighs. Gently cupping your sex, Hoseok’s middle finger runs along the soft, dewy folds. The sudden touch has you letting out a deep groan, your head falling back as he slowly strokes your folds. Spreading your wetness along your mound, Hoseok inhales deeply, relishing in the pungent scent of your sex. He’s never smelled anything as intoxicating as you.

Fingers dipping further between your folds, Hoseok slowly slides a finger into your tightness, a strained groan leaving his lips. If you were this tight around his finger, how tight would you be around his cock? Languidly thrusting his finger into you, Hoseok relishes in the feel of your velvety, pulsing folds. Reflexively, your hips begin swirling over his as you begin riding his hand, your inner walls pulsating in a bid to pull his finger in deep.

Fingers curling into his shoulders, your nails dig into his skin, your hips moving further as you feel your stomach tighten with a foreign pleasure. “H-Hoseok,” you groan, your eyes fluttering in pleasure. Your dragon hums under you before sliding a second finger into you. You let out a squeak at his ministrations, your eyes scrunching slightly at the stretch. Leaning up, Hoseok places tender kisses against your eyelids, hushing you soothingly.

The stinging only lasts a couple of moments, giving way to more pleasure as Hoseok continues pumping his digits into you. With a particularly low grind, you unwittingly push Hoseok’s fingers deeper into you, your dragon crooking his fingers into you. The action causes his fingertips to brush against the velvety sweet-spot inside you, a cry of pleasure departing your lips. “H-Hoseok, please,” you groan - the burning need to feel him inside you coursing through your veins.

Desperation evident in your words, Hoseok pulls his fingers out. You let out a cry of protest, your hips chasing his fingers. Hoseok lets out a small chuckle, lifting his head and placing a tender kiss to your jaw. “Patience, sweetheart. Don’t you want to be good for me?” Hoseok asks. His words have you moaning, your pussy clamping at the dominating tone in his voice. Nodding, you still your hips, “Good girl,” Hoseok murmurs, placing a praising kiss against your cheek.

Hoseok shifts, his hand moving to grip the base of his shaft. You feel him pump it twice, your eyes fluttering open to watch him use his thumb to spread the transparent beads of precum over the tapered head of his cock. Once he’s done, he angles the head towards your entrance, the tip brushing against your engorged clit, causing you to gasp in pleasure. Placing his cock at your entrance, Hoseok moves his hands to your hips before slowly sliding them down.

You feel a build of pressure against your entrance, Hoseok’s cock slowly sliding into you. Crying out in a mix of pain and pleasure, you cling to Hoseok tightly, your eyes scrunching shut as you feel the searing heat of his cockhead slowly stretch you open. Hoseok stills under you, looking at you in fear as he hears your squeak of pain. “Are you okay?” he quickly asks.

Nodding shakily, you take in a deep breath, “J-just go slow, please,” you whimper. Hoseok’s nods, slowing his pace down. With every inch that he slides into you, he opens your walls out further. The two of you move slowly, Hoseok sluggishly feeding inch by inch of his cock into your hot, velvety depths, and soon, you find yourself pressing against the thick base of his shaft. Hoseok stills once again, simply holding you to him as he allows you to adjust to his length. Purring against you, Hoseok nuzzles the flesh just above your jugular, relishing in how euphoric you feel around his cock. Frequently, he’d imagined what you’d feel like wrapped around him - but he’d never known it would feel this good.

After long moments of stillness, you finally shift over Hoseok, the discomfort ebbing away and melting into pure, unadulterated ecstasy. Swivelling your hips, “M-move,” you urge.

Fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, “Are you sure,” Hoseok asks. Your only answer is it swivel your hips again, wanting to feel more of him. Languidly, Hoseok uses his strength to lift you off of him before bringing you back down. Now that the discomfort is gone, you can feel nothing but the euphoria of Hoseok’s cock thrusting into you - amplified by the ridges of his cock rubbing against every pleasurable spot inside you.

The two of you begin moving faster against each other, Hoseok thrusting his hip upwards as you bring yourself downwards. With each thrust, you match his rhythm, gasps of pleasure escaping both your lips as you lose yourself into each other. Goosebumps prickle at your skin, heat stirring in your lungs as you feel pleasure burn in your veins. You’re close - you can feel it. Moaning out his name, you move faster, Hoseok’s hand twisting between your bodies, his thumb moving to rub your clit.

The additional pleasure has you shrieking out his name, your walls clamping in an almost vice-like grip. Repetitively, Hoseok ghosts his thumb over your throbbing clit, rolling the bundle of nerves over and over again as he draws out your pleasure. With every single ministration, the heat in your loin grows - from dull warmth into searing heat. White-hot pleasure prickles at your skin as you feel yourself come undone.

Thighs shaking around him, you cry out in ecstasy as you cum, Hoseok’s name falling from your lips - almost like a prayer - over and over again. You writhe almost uncontrollably over him, losing yourself into the lust-filled euphoria of your orgasm as you shatter over him. Hoseok soon finds himself lost in his own pleasure, the impossible tightness of your walls, paired with the gushing wetness of your orgasm, proving to be too much for him. With an animalistic roar, Hoseok buries his head into your neck before biting down on your jugular.

Your eyes widen as you feel Hoseok’s heat sear into you, his blazing fire searing through your veins and heightening your pleasure. Magic floods into your very being, causing you to shake even more as you wail out his name. Finally having marked you as his, Hoseok pulls his teeth away from you before closing his eyes and succumbing to his own orgasm. Just as the searing heat of his magic fades away from your veins, you feel Hoseok’s cum spurt deep into you, rope after rope of warm semen flooding you. A low moan escapes your lips, your head dropping onto his shoulder as you relish in the feel of his cum deep inside you.

The two of you simply stay there, Hoseok’s cock still buried inside of you, as you breathlessly paint. Sweat coats your skin, your naked chests sticking together - the flesh turning tacky as your perspiration begins drying. Not that you care, no, you’re more than happy to feel Hoseok’s heated, gummy skin against you. Erratically, the two of you twitch, your muscles still reeling from your orgasm.

Coming down from your elated highs, you feel Hoseok pull you close against him, his chest flush against yours. Panting heavily, you gasp for air, even as Hoseok shifts you so that you’re lying next to him. He manoeuvres your body so that you’re curled into his chest, your ear pressed to just over his heart. Swimming in post-orgasmic bliss, Hoseok simply holds you close, his fingers absent-mindedly trailing over your hip, tracing intricate shapes over your skin.

Completely satiated, you simply relish in his tough, more than happy to bask in the feel of Hoseok. Your hand runs over his stomach before you freeze. Titling your head, you stare at where your hand is rested - just over where he’d been hurt a mere few hours ago. Your eyebrows furrow as you trace over the smooth skin - phoenix tears were a powerful thing, but for them to heal to the point of not even leave a scar was something to awe at. Nevertheless, just the memory of Hoseok being hurt causes you to frown.

“Let’s leave this tower,” you finally say as you mindlessly draw circles over where he’d been wounded before. The moment the words drip out of your mouth, Hoseok’s hand freezes.

“What?” he asks, his gaze shifting to look at the top of your head in curiosity. Turning, you shift so you can look up at him.

“Let’s leave this tower. Let’s find a new home,” you repeat, staring at him resolutely.

“Why?” Hoseok questions causing you to giggle slightly at his dumbfoundedness despite the seriousness of your suggestion. Had you reduced him to one syllable questions?

“Because everyone in the kingdom knows I’m in this tower - but if we move, they won’t be able to find us… hopefully,” you suggest, muttering the last words under your breath. You don’t want to leave Hoseok - but then you realise, there’s no reason the two of you couldn’t just move.

“You’ve never wanted to leave before,” Hoseok points out, wondering where the sudden suggestion came from. You shrug nonchalantly, though your eyes flicker momentarily to his stomach. Hoseok’s eyes catch the movement, his hand moving to grip your hip in comfort. “____?” he coaxes, nudging your head with his nose. Dejected sigh slipping from your lips, you relax further into him, your muscles sinking into his and moulding you together - almost as if you’re becoming one.

“You’ve never been this hurt before,” you reply quietly, your voice barely audible. Hoseok’s face softens, your earlier words suddenly making sense. You’re still worried about him.

“The tower is our home - has been for years now. Do you really want to move?” Hoseok asks. Personally, he doesn’t really care - he’d go anywhere as long as it’s with you - but there were so many memories the two of you had in this tower, your entire lives ingrained into its grey stone walls.

Shaking your head, your hair tickles his chest and the bottom of his chin, Hoseok’s nose wrinkling as he tries to push it out of the way, “No, you’re my home. Home is where you are. If you won’t stop fighting for me, at least run away with me. Please? Let’s go somewhere they won’t find us,” you implore, your voice laced in a pleading tone.

Hoseok hums carefully, his arm snaking around your waist. “Where do you want to go?” he asks, causing you to perk up.

“The Merfolk Mangroves. We can build a new home there. It’s deeper in the forest, the area guarded by the elves. Not to mention we’ll be closer to our friends. Please, let’s just go. I don’t want to see you hurt anymore,” you plead. Hoseok hums for another moment before nodding, easily acquiescing to you.

“Alright. We’ll move. How does tomorrow sound?” Hoseok asks, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“Tomorrow?” you repeat in mild surprise, not expecting him to be ready to move so soon.

This time, Hoseok shrugs. “It’s not like we have a lot of things. We only really need our clothes. We can always build more stuff - thought building a house may take a while. But it’s okay, we can ask Yoongi and Jimin to help us,” Hoseok says. You gaze at him in shock, murmurs and mumbles escaping his lips as he lists things the two of you would need. “Yeah, tomorrow works. So, how about it?” Hoseok asks, turning towards you. Happiness blooming in your chest, you nod eagerly before nuzzling further into him.

“Tomorrow sounds perfect,”

Five years later, you find yourself near the edge of the forest, in the midst of Salamander Swamps - though you don’t think it’s really a swamp by conventional methods. Tall trees and brushes litter the area, their leaves emblazoned in glittering hues of amber-gold and scarlet-ruby. Rivers and lakes of aurous copper swirl around the area - though, you know it’s not actually water. No, the streams of seemingly liquid-gold are actually made of the fiery salamanders that make their home in the swamp. Sunlight drips through the saffron canopy, the plush foliage gleaming as if made of blazing topazes.

Trusty wicker basket dangling in the crook of your elbow, you happily hum to yourself as you pick off the golden Soleil berries from the low-growing brush. You’d heard about the berries long ago - there were stories, passed down with each generation of the forest’s magical folk - that the berries would harness sunlight and store the sun’s energy, the magic of the sun amplified by the salamanders’ mystical fire. Hence, you’d decided to ask Seokjin, knowing the elf prince had an almost encyclopaediac knowledge of the forest’s fauna and flora, whether he knew where you could find some; and the older elf had not disappointed in the slightest.

Though, really, you should have guessed - with the myths surrounding the Soleil berries, there really was only one place they would grow.

“Hurry up, ____. It’s not safe for us to be out here,” Jimin calls out. Turning your head, you glance at him from over your shoulder. Both him and Taehyung are sat perched on a boulder, mindlessly drawing shapes into the ground as they wait for you to finish. From the corner of your eye, you spot Jungkook, the phoenix happily picking berries and snacking on them.

“I need more berries! I’m making-” you reply, only to be cut off by Jimin.

“A special meal for Hoseok for your five year anniversary and Soleil berries are rumoured to energise Sun Dragons like Hoseok. Yes, yes we know. But I don’t think Hoseok would appreciate us bringing you all the way here - the Salamander Swamp borders human territory. It’s not safe, especially for you, Princess,” Jimin reminds you. His words cause you to scowl as your ire rises.

“I’m not a Princess. Don’t call me that. And I’m sure we’ll be fine. They haven’t found me for five years - ever since Hobi and I moved to the Merfolk Mangroves - they probably think I’m dead or something - or that Hoseok ate me,” you shrug nonchalantly, sarcasm dripping from your words. Really, that was one of the stupidest rumours you knew humans believed - dragons didn’t even like human meat - they prefered animals - and Hoseok preferred boar.

“It’s still not safe for us to be here,” Jimin replies.

“Yeah, I don’t think we should be here any longer,” Taehyung pipes in as he looks around warily.

“Ugh! Fine! Just give me a few more moments,” you bite back before turning back to the bushes.

“We need to go - now,” Jungkook says all of a sudden before grabbing you by the wrist.

“You too, Kook? You’re the one who wanted an adventure!” you hiss in indignation. However, seeing the alertness in Jungkook’s eyes, his teal orbs warily looking around, you find yourself stopping. Blooding rushing through your veins, the hair on the back of your neck stands up. All three boys are on their feet, their senses on high-alert as they look around.

“Guys? What’s going on?” you whisper, knowing that their enhances senses could pick up things you wouldn’t be able to.

Then - you hear it. A snap of twigs, followed by a faint whistling.

All of a sudden, an arrow flies through the air, Taehyung only narrowly managing to duck from under it. “Humans! We need to go! Now,” Jimin roars, already turning out and running towards the boat that you’d used to travel to the Salamander Swamps. Taehyung had already jumped into the river, ready to swim back home. You feel Jungkook grab you, his body twisting as he runs towards his friends. However, before you can follow him, you feel someone else grab you.

“By the Gods! The Princess is alive! We’ve found her,” a knight yells, alerting the rest of the vanguard. A cry of panic escapes your throat, Jungkook hissing as the knight tugs on your arm.

“____!” Jimin and Taehyung yell, their eyes wide with fright, Jimin already stepping back out of the boat to help you.

But he moves to slow - because all of a sudden, out of nowhere, another guard appears, swiping his broadsword towards the hand Jungkook is using to hold onto you. Before the knight can hit him, however, Jungkook removes his arm, subsequently letting go of you.

You feel arms circle around your waist, dragging you backwards and away from Jungkook, even as you desperately struggle against their hold, trying your hardest to escape the knight. You see Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung caught in a fray - the sound of swords clinking and arrows whistling through the air entwine with the raging crackle of fire, torrential splashes of water and echoing snapping of vines - the amalgamation of sounds almost deafening - even as you screech for your friends.

“Let me go! Let me go!” you scream, clawing at the arms that hold on to you - but its no use - your fingernails are useless against the steel of the knight’s armour.

“Don’t worry, Princess. You don’t have to be scared of us, we’ve come to rescue you. We’re taking you back to your father,” the knight says placatingly.

Hissing at him, “I don’t need to be rescued, you idiot! Let me go,” you cry, increasing your struggle against him. But the knight doesn’t heed any of your words, and instead, he throws you onto the back of the horse, jumping on after you before sprinting off.

Moments after the horse begins galloping, you hear a loud screeching sound, “____! We’ll come for you! Hoseok will come for you,” Jungkook roars, the words slightly strained and instantly, you know he’s shifted into his half-phoenix form.

Before you can respond to him, however, you already find yourself further away from the forest. Your heart sinks in your chest, tears filling your eyes as you watch the trees begin to grow sparse as the magic in the air died - you’re no longer in the enchanted forest - and more than that, you can no longer hear Jungkook, Jimin or Taehyung.

The knight gallops away, the ride slightly bumpy as you continue staring behind you, yearning for home. You know you’re to blame for being kidnapped - well, partially, because really, you hadn’t asked for this. Still, you should have listened to Jimin when he said it wasn’t safe - but you’d only wanted to do something nice for your anniversary with Hoseok.

The landscape rushes past you, slowly shifting from the natural terrain of to more human-made, little houses and buildings coming into view. Your back in the kingdom. Unbothered, the guard continues riding, not even acknowledging that you had stopped struggling. Turning your head, your chest tightens as the large, almost opposing, castle comes into view. Vaguely, you can remember it from your memories - the place you had once called home. But it’s not home any longer, home is in the enchanted forest, with your friends, with Hoseok.

Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook’s faces flash in the back of your mind, your chest aching with worry. Closing your eyes, you send a silent prayer to the Old Elders of the Forest, praying that your friends had retreated and are safe.

The next day, groggy and disoriented from sleep, you awake in a large bed. Spine imperceptibly shivering from the morning chill, you instinctively reach out for Hoseok, craving the warmth radiated by your mate. However, instead of coming into contact with Hoseok’s sinewy and heated body, all you feel is the cold of the mattress. Abruptly, the memories crash over you like a bucket of ice-cold water, your body springing up in bed.

You’d been kidnapped from your home and brought to the forest. When you’d finally arrived in the palace, it had been late at night and your father and step-mother hadn’t even bothered greeting you. Instead, you’d been sent straight to your old room. You considered escaping, but knights had stood guard outside your door all night - you’d periodically checked, wondering if you could make a getaway. Momentarily, you’d considered climbing out the window, but your bedroom was several feet off the ground and facing a cliff edge. Eventually, the futility of your escape had dawned on you, and exhausted, you’d fallen into a fretful sleep, your only hope knowing that Hoseok would stop at nothing to come rescue you.

Looking around the room, you hazily recognise the bedroom from your childhood and vaguely, you realise that nothing has changed. The curtains are still a pastel pink, white furniture embellished with intricate gold designs is still perfectly placed around the bedroom, and while slightly faded, the carpet is still a plush grey. The perfect room for a princess - however, not for you. The room makes you feel nauseous: the pastel pink almost overwhelming and the white only washing out the rest of the colours.

Momentarily, you hear a light knock, your head automatically turning towards the sound. The creaking of the door resounds through the air, before, “Princess, you’re awake,” comes a dulcet voice. The voice sounds familiar, ringing through your memory, and when the woman comes into view, you recognise her as the nanny who used to look after you. She’s much older now, with sunken but kind eyes, and greyed hair.

“Mrs Cheon,” you greet quietly. The lady stops in surprise, looking at you in disbelief before a gentle smile graces her face.

“I’m surprised you recognise me,” she replies before walking towards you. Pulling the sheets off you, she urges you out of the bed and towards your large bedroom. The bath has already been drawn, different soaps and shampoos littering the bath’s edge. Mrs Cheon fusses over you, helping out of your clothing before washing away the grime and dirt you’d collected from foraging in the forest yesterday. Every now and then she tuts, scrubbing extra hard to get you clean.

You don’t know what compels you to allow her to fuss over you, because really, you wantto fight, you want to kick and scream and find a way out. But you know you have no choice but to go through the motion of the days. The reality of the situation isn’t lost on you, you’re completely outnumbered, guards posted in every nook and cranny of the palace as a security measure. It would be hard to make it out by yourself, so instead, you choose to wait - because you know Hoseok will come for you. More than any of that, however, you allow Mrs Cheon to lead you because you know there is something you have to do before you can escape this place once and for all.

Once your bath is done, Mrs Cheon leads you back to your room, where several ladies in waiting greet you. Fake smiles plastered on their face, they curtsey towards you before they begin dressing you. You’re not stupid, you can see the disdain clear as day in their eyes because here you are: a princess of royal blood, of higher status than them and theoretically more power and wealth than they could ever have, yet you’d willingly - though, not at first - chosen to live in the enchanted forest. A part of you wants to make a snide remark, but instead, you simply bite your tongue. It wouldn’t do you any good if you caused a commotion now. You had to wait, for help to arrive, for Hoseok to come, and then you could leave this place.

Hands spread out, the ladies dress you up. First, they string a corset around you, two women pulling the straps tight until you find it hard to breathe. Different layers of silk and chiffon follow, before finally, the last layer is draped over you. Unfocused gaze set on yourself, you watch as the women cover you with expensive fabrics, intricate designs embroidered in gold thread. Once done, they lead you to your vanity before sitting you down and beginning on your hair. A woman you don’t recognise begins brushing your hair, your face crinkling as she roughly detangles the knots before styling it.

You sigh and decide to retreat into your own mind, knowing that they still had to do your makeup. When you were younger, you’d seen your mother go through this routine, every day, until she was too sick to go through it anymore. You had once wished to be just like her, your every whim being catered to as women fussed and fawned over you. Now that you’ve had a taste of freedom, of independence, the entire experience feels jarring and exhausting.

By the time the ladies are finally done with you, dusting you in an overpowering perfume that has your nose crinkling in distaste, it’s already been hours. Really, howdid people of noble blood go through this exhausting routine every day? It’s ming boggling to you. Breaking you out of your thoughts, “You’re ready Princess,” Mrs Cheon finally says, and once again you have to bite your tongue to stop from snapping that you’re not a Princess. Not anymore at least. You’d given up that claim a long time ago.

“Come along. I am to take you to the throne room where the King, Queen, and Royal Court await you,” Mrs Cheon informs, and with that, Mrs Cheon leads you out of the room. With each step, the dress and heels weigh you down, the material scratching against your skin and leaving you feeling uncomfortable. You wanted your clothes - the leather boots, trousers and cotton shirts you were used to. Or even the lighter, much more freeing dresses that you’d wear occasionally.

Stepping out of the bedroom, the first thing that comes to your attention is the significant lack of guards. Unlike yesterday, when the corridor was heavily guarded, the knights are nowhere to be found. If she’s noticed anything amiss, Mrs Cheon doesn’t say anything. Expertly, she navigates through the maze-like corridors of the castle and once again, you recede into your own thoughts. The throne room is on the other end of the castle, far away from your wing of the palace and you know it’ll be a while before you reach there.

The two of you walk in silence as you wonder how long it’ll be till Hoseok and your friends come for you. Just as you get to the wing of the castle where your father conducts his official business, the sound of a commotion catches your ears. Head snapping to the window, your eyes widen as hope flutters in your chest. This wing of the castle is closer towards the towns and village, not to mention the entrance to the castle. Gazing out the window, you spot the large castle walls, knights running around while yelling at each other. But that’s not what’s got you so hopefully, it’s the bright kaleidoscopic flashes of colour just outside the walls that have your attention - flashes you know to be magic.

They’re here. They’ve come for you.

Again, Mrs Cheon continues walking, not saying anything even if she notices your attention on the window looking out. Just as you reach the large arched doors to the throne room, a deafening dragon roar resounds, the sound so loud it even penetrates the castle walls, ricocheting straight through your being. Your knees buckle, your heart fluttering as you hear the telltale sound of your dragon. Then, all of a sudden, the drawbridge that leads to the outside is broken into, thick clouds of black smoke filling the air as dragon fire spirals uncontrollably, burning the wood to ashes.

He’s here.

Hoseok’s here - which mean there’s only one thing for you to do. Taking a deep breath, you gather all your courage before stepping in front of Mrs Cheon. The older lady looks at you in surprise, watching as you fearlessly push open the wood doors before taking daring steps forward. As soon as you burst in, every single noble that makes your father’s court turns to you. Your father’s eyes widen, your stepmother’s own narrowing as she looks at you with distaste. As you begin walking towards the back of the room, where your father and stepmother sit upon their thrones, hushed whispers begin filling the air, the noblemen unable to contain themselves.

Ignoring them, you keep your head held high, your unwavering and hardened gaze focused directly on your father. You don’t even bother deigning your stepmother with your gaze, ignoring her completely. When you get to just before them, your father opens his mouth to speak, but before he can speak, you interrupt him by holding up a hand. His eyes widen, another wave of whispers running rampant around you.

“No right. You had no right to kidnap me from my home,” you seethe, your voice hissing through the air. The king sits up slightly, his eyes widening at the venom in your voice.

“We did not kidnap you. The knight rescued you from the dragon that guarded you and as such, he will be the one to marry you,” you stepmother buts in. Though, from her tone, you can tell she’s more irritated by the situation than anything. Clearly, she hadn’t wanted you back - which begs the question, why are you back. It must have been your father’s doing. You internally wonder if hell had frozen over, because you found yourself mirroring her ire.

Scoffing, you roll your eyes, “Yeah, well, funnily enough, I didn’t need rescuing from the dragon. And I definitely will not be marrying some random prince I don’t even know. I don’t love him - I love Hoseok - the dragon that protected me. The dragon that was there for me when my own family abandoned me. I don’t need you - nor do I want anything to do with you. I was happy in the forest, my home is in the forest now. Not here,” you seethe. From the corner of your eye, you notice flashes of magic pass the window that overlooked the front of the castle. Excitement courses through your veins, your hands trembling with eagerness. He’s so close.

“In love?! With a dragon? That’s preposterous. He’s a monster,” A nobleman calls out, cause you to snarl in his direction. The wild anger in your eyes clearly terrifies him, because instantly, he takes a step back.

“____, you’ve clearly been in the forest too long. But this is where you belong. Come home, this is where you belong. You are human, not a creature of the forest. You are next in line for the throne, this Kingdom’s Princess. It needs you,” your father says.

His words cause you to see red, and you level your hardest, most spiteful, glare at your father. “I am not a Princess and I owe this kingdom nothing. You abandoned me in a forest when I was seven years old - and nothing you do or say can ever make up for that. This is no longer my home,” you hiss, gesturing towards the room, “and this,” you say, gesturing to your outfit, “is not who I am. My home is in the forest. With my mate. I belong there with him,” you continue. Then, in the spur of the moment and with more strength than you knew you had, you tug at the dress - hard - causing it to rip into tatters. Shocked gasps flood the air, men whispering at the scene of disgrace. Shreds of the outer dress cling to your body, the material of your inner dress and corset on display. Your hard tug had even pulled loose some of the corset strings, and the moment you hear the tearing of fabric, you feel like you can breathe again

“I gave up on being a Princess long ago - the daughter you knew, the daughter you left in a tower all by herself - I’m no longer her. Leave me alone. I want nothing to do with you or this Kingdom. I have a family - a family who is out there fighting for me - to bring me home. They are all I need. So please, if you have any love for me, or if you have any care for my happiness - let me live my life,” you finally finish. With the last of your words, you feel your anger rush out of you, leaving you feeling freer than you had in years.

Lifting your hand, you touch the crown that sits perched atop your head before tugging it. As soon as it comes off, your hair comes loose, falling wilding around your head. Without care, you drop the crown on the floor, the last of the weight lifting off of your shoulder. Then, with the last of your adrenaline rush, the feeling of freedom coursing through your veins, you run towards the window that outlooks the courtyard - where you know Hoseok to be.

Refusing to even think for a moment, and putting all your faith in Hoseok, you leap onto the window ledge before throwing yourself out the window. The members of the court jerk in alarm, gasps of alarm resounding through the air, your father jumping to his feet as he watches you plummet out the window.

The air rushes around you, the sound of the wind passing you by almost defeaning. Instantly, you shut your eyes, your heart racing a mile a minute as you feel yourself freefalling towards the ground. A scream rips through your mouth - and then suddenly, you come to a halt. You feel strong arms wrap around you, the familiar sound of heavily beating leather wings vibrating through your eardrums. Opening your eyes, you grin as you come face to face with Hoseok’s terrified looking face.

“What do you think you’re doing? You can’t just randomly jump out of a window - you could have died,” Hoseok reprimands, his voice carrying out in a hiss.

An impish smile crawling onto your face, you let out a raucous laugh before throwing your arms around his neck, “I can when I know you’ll be there to catch me,” comes your reply. Hoseok wants to reprimand you, tell you that you were entirely too reckless and that watching you fall out the window had almost given him a heart attack - but seeing your laughter, the lightness to your eyes and the easiness in your muscles, he finds himself lost for words.

Eyes softening, he presses his forehead against yours before nuzzling your nose, “I’m sorry I took so long. I should have come sooner,” Hoseok apologises.

Hearing his words, you shake your head, looking at him with nothing but love, happiness and resolute trust, “It’s okay. I knew you’d come for me. You promised,” you reply. Hoseok’s arms tighten around you, pulling you closer to his chest. Pressing your forehead harder against his, you grace him with a chaste kiss, relishing in the soft feel of his lips. “Let’s go home, Hoseok,” you whisper against his lips. Eyes softening, Hoseok nods before easily turning, flying off in the direction of the forest.

You don’t even bother turning around to look at your father or the castle. Instead, you simply relish in the feel of Hoseok’s arms around you, the calming rhythm of his heart against your ear, and the steady beating of his wings, because you know, that now, you’re finally free.

The End.

a/n: happy sunflower hobi day!! I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it!! come tell me what you thought!!

Kofi | Masterlist

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ughseoks · 3 years

Text

the art of pretend | jhs + ksj

PAIRING; hoseok x seokjin (2seok)

GENRE/AU; fluff, humor

RATING: 18+

WORD COUNT; 4.7k

WARNINGS; swearing, innuendos, a Smidge of angst, overall stupidity, secondhand embarrassment probably

SUMMARY; An AU in which Hoseok is embarrassingly bad at first dates and Seokjin takes it upon himself to fix it.

— Written for the Be My Bangtanvine collab hosted by @kimtaehyunq 💗 —

MASTERLIST

— banner by @monotape THANK YOU I LOVE YOU 🥺💗

— special thanks to @j-sope for pretty much being the sole reason that this was able to be written. i love u so much u are my everything my favorite person ever ILYLYYLIYLILYYILLYIYILYILYILYLILYILYIYIY

Jung Hoseok is horrible at first dates.

Seokjin likes to joke that the unfortunate souls his friend corrals into going on dates with him are his victims, but that joke usually results in a pouting Hoseok, so he keeps it to himself when he hears the all-too-familiar sound of his friend entering their shared apartment with a loud sigh.

“How’d it go tonight?” Seokjin calls out after a moment of silence. The only answer he gets is an alarmingly loud groan from the entryway, the sound followed by a pair of heavy footsteps shuffling their way toward the kitchen.

Hoseok appears around the corner only a few moments later, a pained expression tugging at his features as he collapses into the chair across the table from Seokjin with a huff. “Bad.”

“I don’t understand how you managed to fuck this one up,” Seokjin sighs in exasperation. “Literally everyone gets along with Namjoon. He’s, like, the nicest person on the planet. What did you even do?”

“It wasn’t my fault!” Hoseok defends, pointing an accusing finger at Seokjin. “I’m offended that your first instinct is to blame me. Did you ever stop to think that maybe I was the one who rejected him?”

Seokjin levels him with a cool stare. Hoseok drops his gaze to the table before mumbling, “I accidentally set my sleeve on fire.”

“Jesus,” Seokjin groans, “Hobi, how the hell do you manage these things? What the fuck?”

“I’m sorry, okay!” Hoseok cries out, “It’s not my fault that they put a candle right next to the basket of breadsticks! What kind of restaurant uses real candles anyway? This is the 21st century! Fake candles exist for a reason, you know!”

Seokjin sighs. “This is the last time I ever set you up on a date.”

“Aw, come on,” Hoseok pouts, “That’s not fair. I promise I won’t fuck up the next one; I think I’ve got the hang of dating now. Really!”

“Hobi, I literally have nobody else to offer. You’ve run through my entire collection of single acquaintances in the span of a few months.”

Hoseok blinks. “What? No way. You have to have at least one more single friend. You know, like, everyone.”

Seokjin raises an eyebrow. “Hoseok, you have a problem. It’s time to accept it.” He pauses. “But I think I have an idea on how to fix it.”

“No, no, I know what you’re thinking,” Hoseok interrupts. “I wear an earpiece. You sit at a table nearby, you speak into a mic, you tell me what to say on the date. It’s a great idea, Jin, but let me tell you something—it never works. Taehyung and I tried that a year or two ago and it didn’t end well.” He pauses. “At least, I don’t think it did. I’m not sure. I think my brain blocked out that memory for my own mental stability.”

“That’s…” Seokjin trails off before shaking his head. “Nevermind. My plan was for us to go on a few practice dates together so I could train you to be less nervous on your real dates.”

“Oh.” Hoseok’s face lights up. “That’s a way better idea! Good thinking, dude.”

“Please never call me dude again.”

“Would you prefer if I called you daddy?”

Seokjin pinches the bridge of his nose. “Get out.”

“You can’t kick me out of our apartment,” Hoseok pouts, “I live here too, you know.”

“I reserve the right to kick you out when you’re acting like an idiot. It’s stated in section thirty-five of our friendship contract.”

Hoseok curses under his breath. “I knew I never should’ve signed that thing.”

“Well, you did. And you’re gonna have to live with the consequences if you do stupid things like calling me daddy when all I’m trying to do is help you out.”

“Alright, alright,” Hoseok frowns, “I’m sorry.” He pauses. “But you have to admit, it does kind of suit you—”

Seokjin groans. “Fucking hell.”

Their first date happens about a week later. Hoseok shows up at Seokjin’s doorstep with a bouquet of flowers, which isn’t saying much, because they already live together—but he thinks it’s the thought that counts.

“Will you hold my hand over the console?” Hoseok asks with twinkling eyes as he grins at Seokjin from the passenger seat.

“No,” Seokjin deadpans. “I don’t hold hands on the first date.”

“But this is a fake first date,” Hoseok pushes, giving his friend the biggest puppy-dog eyes he can muster. “Surely you can break a few rules here and there.”

“Hoseok, the very fact that this date is fake is only more reason for me to reject your hand-holding offer. I’m not in the business of sharing cooties with friends.”

Hoseok slides down in his seat with an irritated grumble. If Seokjin doesn’t want to hold his hand, that’s totally fine. He’s okay with that. He doesn’t mind at all.

Noticing the dark cloud that seems to have materialized over his friend’s head, Seokjin relents with an exasperated sigh, flopping his hand palm-up over the console in an offer to Hoseok. “Fine. But if I crash this car, I’m blaming it on you.”

Hoseok grins from ear to ear as he excitedly threads his fingers with Seokjin’s. He tries not to think too hard about how perfectly they fit together.

The evening has been… a struggle, to say the least. Hoseok managed to knock his chair over when they were being seated, which would have been fine, except when he tried to pick it up, he ended up tripping over the legs and falling face-first into the aisle beside their table.

Seokjin had been hopeful that the chair debacle would be the most eventful happening of the evening, but that hope had been squashed when Hoseok knocked over a vase of flowers with his elbow during an attempt to pull out a stack of notecards from his pocket. The water had gone everywhere—including his notecards—and the waitress had given Seokjin a pitiful look as she swept up the broken glass that decorated the floor.

(The stack of notecards was mostly blank, Seokjin eventually discovered. The ones that did have writing on them had subjects like ‘windmills’, ‘circuit boards’, and ‘wyoming’ scrawled in messy loops across the front. When Seokjin gave Hoseok a questioning look, he’d explained that they were possible topics of conversation, in case he ran out of things to say.)

And now, half an hour later, Hoseok is finishing up a very long and very boring speech about elephants, looking at Seokjin expectantly as the latter sits in stunned silence.

“Wow. That was… a very thorough explanation of the stages of elephant pregnancy.”

“Thank you,” Hoseok beams. “I did lots of research. Now, onto the history of the zipper—”

“Okay, you know what?” Seokjin interrupts his friend with a tight smile, “Just… ask me a question about myself. Try to get to know me.”

“Okay,” Hoseok nods, tossing the stack of notebook cards over his shoulder haphazardly. “Okay, I can do that. Easy.” He blinks. “Uh…. I…” He stares blankly for a few seconds before dropping his head into his hands, voice muffled as he mumbles dejectedly, “God, I can’t think of anything to ask you. My mind is blank. Where are my notecards?”

“Just—Just ask me the first thing that comes to mind,” Seokjin encourages with only a hint of exasperation, grabbing Hoseok’s attention before he can reach for the soggy lump of paper sitting on the corner of the table.

Hoseok lifts his head, staring blankly for a moment before his face lights up and he blurts out, “How big is it?”

Seokjin sighs. “Really?”

“Oh my god,” Hoseok wails, “This is hopeless.”

“It’s not hopeless,” Seokjin tries to comfort with a furrowed brow. “You just… need to learn how to calm down. That’s all.”

“It’s not like I’m trying to be a nervous wreck,” Hoseok laments, sullenly snacking on a breadstick. “I just… I get so nervous, you know? My mind starts to run through all the things that could possibly go wrong and I get so desperate trying not to do or say the wrong thing that I forget what the right thing is.”

Seokjin sighs, giving his friend a sympathetic look. “Try not to get too down about it, alright? We still have all the time in the world to go on these practice dates to help you get to the bottom of whatever this problem is. It’ll all work out okay, I promise.”

Hoseok perks up a bit at that. “Thank you, Jin,” he thanks, glancing between the elder and the breadstick in his hands for a few moments before tearing it in half and offering a piece to him with a big, goofy smile.

Seokjin takes it with twinkling eyes. It’s kind of pathetic, really, that as much as he teases Hoseok, there’s absolutely nothing he wouldn’t do to keep that heart-shaped smile on his face.

Seokjin takes a different approach on his second fake date with Hoseok.

After the disastrous first date, the elder had been left wracking his brain for reasons why Hoseok is the way he is. It’s a bit of an ambiguous question, and many people would simply shrug it off as Hoseok being more nervous in social situations than most—but Seokjin knew that there was something else at play.

Hoseok is a well-liked guy. So well-liked, in fact, that when Seokjin is out perusing the town with his best-friend-slash-roommate, he finds that they’re stopped at least twice a day by complete strangers on the street because of him. Granted, the strangers aren’t quite strangers to Hoseok—they’re usually acquaintances he met at the gym, the coffee shop or even the zoo—but the point is that Seokjin doesn’t think there’s a single living thing on this planet that Hoseok isn’t friends with.

Even their houseplants prefer the younger of the two. (Hoseok vehemently denies this, but Seokjin knows it’s true. He thinks it’s because they’re attracted to the sunshine that Hoseok seems to emit every time he flashes his heart-shaped smile their way.)

The point is that Hoseok is most definitely not a nervous person, at least when it comes to platonic human interaction. The younger man is bright and loud and happy all at once, his cheery aura serving as a welcoming beacon to everyone that crosses his path. He has the largest circle of friends Seokjin has ever witnessed, and he’s even been involved in a few long-term relationships over the years.

So why can’t Hoseok seem to just act normal on first dates?

After another conversation with the man himself and a bit of reflecting on their disastrous first date, Seokjin deduced that he still had absolutely no idea what was going on inside Hoseok’s brain. However, he did manage to come up with a new plan for their second date—one that Hoseok was most definitely going to hate.

Exposure therapy.

Of course, Seokjin wasn’t going to tell Hoseok about his plan before he enacted it. That would defeat the point of it all. So, when Hoseok shows up two minutes late to their fake date with a worried expression and a mouthful of apologies, Seokjin levels him with a disinterested stare.

“You’re late.”

Hoseok’s hair is sticking every which way, a few of the sandy-colored strands plastered to his forehead. His fancy dress shirt is one button off from being correctly centered, and his pants are a bit rumpled up from something, the crinkles standing out starkly against the dark material.

“I’m so sorry,” Hoseok apologizes profusely, eyes shining with genuine guilt as he takes a nervous seat across from Seokjin. “I, uh, had to… take my... niece... to.... badminton practice?"

Seokjin hums. “How lovely. Tell me, Hoseok—what’s your niece’s name?”

"Um......... Fuckson? No, no, that's not right... Chlorissa? Torple? America?" Hoseok gulps. Shakes his head. "That—that was a lie. I don't have a niece. Is it hot in here, or is that just me?" He loosens his already uneven tie, glancing nervously towards the bathrooms behind him. "I've gotta use the... the whiz palace. You know. That place. Where you go do your business. Yeah."

Before Seokjin can say another word, Hoseok is tripping out of his chair and making a mad dash for the restrooms, stumbling all the way there. Seokjin winces when his friend takes an accidental turn into the women's restroom rather than the men's, waiting for the accompanying shriek that usually comes alongside Hoseok's all-too-common accidents.

But instead of a terrified scream, Seokjin is met with the face of a nervous Hoseok peeking out of the doorway, his eyes wide and frantic as he makes eye contact with his fake date across the restaurant.

"Bathroom!" Hoseok shouts, ignoring the stares of the other patrons in the room. "It's called a bathroom! Hah!"

Seokjin throws the staff an apologetic smile before dropping his head onto the table dramatically. They have long, long ways to go.

“Hoseok is…. in worse shape than I thought,” Seokjin admits quietly, glancing over his shoulder when he hears the sound of familiar laughter echoing from the table a few feet behind him. Hoseok is sitting by himself, laughing at… nothing. Seokjin turns back to the bartender, a close friend named Jimin, with a look of disbelief. “Is he practice laughing?”

“Maybe you should take a different approach?” Jimin muses, eyes sparkling as he glances at Hoseok over Jin’s shoulder. “Try showing him what a bad date would feel like so he doesn’t psych himself out anymore?”

“I already did that,” Seokjin groans, “I don’t know what else to try. Seriously. He just… ran off to the bathroom. After lying about having a niece.”

Jimin hums. “Maybe try laying it on a bit thicker. You’re still being too nice; you’ve gotta channel your inner asshole. Think about all the shitty dates you’ve been on in your past.”

“Isn’t that a bit mean, though?” Seokjin asks. “I’ve been on some pretty bad dates; I don’t want to traumatize him.”

“Hoseok isn’t made of glass, Jin,” Jimin smiles. “He’ll be fine, I promise. Besides, he knows how much you care about him. He’s not gonna take anything you say or do to heart.”

Seokjin sighs in resignation. “You’re right.” He glances over at his friend once more. “I guess I should get back to him before he breaks anything else. Or has another conversation with an imaginary date.”

“Go get ‘em, tiger,” Jimin grins cheekily, “Have fun bullying your fake date!’

Seokjin flips him off before making his way back to the table, already in character when Hoseok greets him with a warm smile and bright eyes. He finds it hard not to immediately melt at the sight—not for any reason in particular; Hoseok just has that effect on people—and when he takes his seat across from the younger man, Seokjin has to push down the urge to smile back.

“What did Jiminie have to say?” Hoseok asks cheerily, fingertips drumming nervously against the tablecloth. Seokjin ignores the question and reaches over to take a french fry off of Hoseok’s plate. The younger man blinks at him in confusion, the ever-present smile on his face slipping slightly. “Jin? Is everything al—”

“So,” Seokjin interrupts loudly and leans over to snatch another fry from Hoseok’s plate, still chewing on the first one he stole as he speaks. “How do you feel about sex on the first date?”

“Uhh…” Hoseok trails off uncomfortably, shifting a bit in his seat. “I’m sorry, w-what?”

Seokjin pauses in his chewing and stares at Hoseok silently for a few seconds before swallowing dramatically, eyebrows raised in slight annoyance. “I said,” he drawls, “How do you feel about sex on the first date? I need to know if tonight is gonna be worth my time.”

“That… that’s....” Hoseok murmurs in disbelief, “Um. Wow. Okay then.”

A few beats of silence pass, the two men staring at each other uncomfortably until Seokjin breaks the silence. “Another important question. How do you feel about full moons? I love them. Personally, I feel really connected to wolves. I’m pretty sure I was a wolf in my past life, actually.”

“Wolves are… cool, I guess?” Hoseok agrees, the end of his sentence twisting to sound more like a question than a response. “They look fluffy.”

“Fluffy?” Seokjin splutters, “You’re kidding me. They’re ruthless killing machines, Hongjoong. The epitome of what an alpha male should be. I was definitely an alpha wolf in my past life.”

“Hongjoong?” Hoseok asks, pointedly ignoring whatever the hell else Seokjin just said.

“Oh. My bad. I have a date with my boyfriend later tonight—his name is Hongjoong—and I got your names kinda mixed up.” He pauses. “Wait, what’s your name again?”

“Hoseok,” he grits out.

“Ohhh,” Seokjin grins lazily, “I remember now! You’re the dude with the flat ass. Your profile said you were a dancer, though, so I thought there was a good chance you’re good in bed. We all have to make sacrifices, I guess. You get it, right?”

Hoseok’s jaw drops to the floor. It’s going to be a long, long night.

“I can’t believe you’d say that, Seokjin,” Hoseok murmurs, his eyes widened in disbelief. “That dog was my best friend, it crushed me when we had to let him go—”

“Brring brring,” Seokjin interrupts, holding up his phone before pretending to talk to someone on the other end of the line. “Oh, hey Hongjoong. Yeah. No, I’m not busy. Just on a date with the flat ass guy I told you about.” He’s silent for a few moments, never once breaking eye contact with Hoseok as he speaks into the receiver. “Yeah. Hold on, I’ll ask him.” He covers the receiver with the palm of his hand. “Hey, wanna watch a porno with me and my boyfriend tonight?”

Hoseok sits there in shocked silence for a few moments before a line of anger creases his brow, eyes narrowed in irritation as he sends a disgusted scowl Seokjin’s way. “No, Seokjin, because you’re disgusting. I am disgusted.”

Seokjin stares blankly for a few seconds. “So, it’s definitely a no?”

“I don’t understand why you’re being so horrible!” Hoseok raises his voice, gesturing wildly as he groans in frustration. “We’re just two people trying to go on a date. It’s supposed to be fun!”

“You’re right,” Seokjin grins, placing his phone down on the table. “It is just a date. Well done, my friend.”

Hoseok tilts his head, brow furrowing in confusion. “Huh?”

“I’m sorry I was so rude to you,” he explains, “But now you see that even if everything goes wrong, you’ll survive. Dates are meant to be fun, Hoseok—there’s no need to put so much pressure on yourself.”

“Oh.” Hoseok blinks. “Ohhh,” a grin begins to stretch across his face as he leans back in his chair, “I see what you did there, you sneaky, sneaky smurf.”

Seokjin shakes his head, watching with a small smile as Hoseok immediately delves into his opinion on the newest Scooby-Doo live action movie. Some things never change, he thinks to himself, unable to keep the wave of fondness that washes over him at bay.

It’s on the third date that Seokjin realizes he loves Hoseok.

Now, in a normal situation, Seokjin would agree that the third date is a bit soon to be making such powerful declarations. But this isn’t a normal situation, and Seokjin is pretty sure that he’s actually been in love with his best friend for a long, long time.

He isn’t sure why it took him so long to figure it out, nor does he know why the sight of Hoseok laughing at a joke he made while sipping on a strawberry milkshake is The Moment™ that the realization dawned upon him—but that doesn’t matter; not really. Because Hoseok is smiling at him with crinkles by his eyes and dimples on full display and he thinks his heart is about to beat clear out of his chest.

Seokjin isn’t an absolute disaster on first dates like his friend tends to be, but he hasn’t had a long term relationship since moving in with Hoseok two years ago, either. He never really took the time to think about why that is—he always assumed he just hadn’t found “the one” yet—but looking at it in hindsight, it’s because nobody compared to Hoseok. Nobody compares to him now, sitting across the booth from Seokjin with his twinkling eyes and excited hand gestures.

Hoseok is doing far better than he did on their past two dates. Seokjin managed to convince him to leave the notecards with topics of conversation on them at their apartment, and while Hoseok was nervous that he’d run out of things to discuss without them by his side, he soon realized he had nothing to worry about.

He had nothing to worry about, because Seokjin is completely and utterly enamored by every little thing that Hoseok says, clinging to the words that fall from his lips no matter how silly they might be. Because Hoseok’s words have a warmth to them; they’re instilled with pure joy, spoken with a bright smile and sprinkled with love.

“Jin?” Hoseok’s voice breaks Seokjin out of his thoughts. He’s waving his hand haphazardly in front of his face, peppering in a snap of his fingers every so often for added effect. “Anyone home?”

“Cut it out.” Seokjin bats away Hoseok’s hands, fighting the smile creeping onto his face.

Hoseok pouts. “You weren’t paying attention to me.”

If only you knew, Seokjin thinks to himself. Instead, he says: “You haven’t done anything yet to grab my attention. By now, you’ve usually broken at least one inanimate object and offended at least two workers.”

“That means I’ve improved!” Hoseok points out with a grin, chomping down excitedly on a curly fry dipped in ranch. “I think I’m just about ready for a real date, Jin.”

Seokjin freezes. “You are,” he agrees slowly, trying to fight the sinking feeling in his chest.

“You know, there’s this cute boy who gave me his number the other day at the ice cream shop,” Hoseok babbles mindlessly as he scrolls through his contacts, “I could shoot him a text. He seemed nice enough, and it’d be a great way to test my improvement out in the real world, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” Seokjin murmurs as he fidgets with the strings on his hoodie. “Yes. That sounds great, Hobi.”

The fake date carries on like normal. Seokjin rolls his eyes at Hoseok’s antics one too many times, and the younger man laughs a little too enthusiastically at his cheesy puns and dad jokes. It’s nothing out of the ordinary for their fake dates—except this time, Seokjin finds himself wishing it was real.

It’s been a long time since Seokjin has allowed himself to sulk, but he’s pretty sure that being hit with the realization that he’s in love with his best-friend-slash-roommate and knowing that his feelings aren’t returned are good enough reasons to dig into his emergency stash of ice cream.

Hoseok is out on a date tonight. A date that isn’t with Seokjin. He left about fifteen minutes ago, Sekojin notes as he glances at his watch in dismay. He’s probably out cracking jokes and knocking over chairs and breaking water glasses and embarrassing himself—all with a stranger.

Not Seokjin.

Never Seokjin; at least, never again.

His thoughts are interrupted by the sound of knuckles rapping clumsily at his front door. He sets his ice cream down on the coffee table with a huff, because he has a sinking feeling that his perfectly valid plans for a lonely night filled with self-pity are about to be interrupted. He just wants to eat his ice cream in peace, dammit—not to mention he hasn’t even had time to be sad about Hoseok’s date yet.

But when Seokjin opens the door to see Hoseok standing there with a smile on his face and a bouquet of flowers, his heart can’t help but tremble.

“Hobi. This is literally our apartment, you don’t have to knock.”

Hoseok winks. “I know.”

“Did you forget your keys or something?” Seokjin asks, the hint of exhaustion tinging the edge of his words suddenly fading away to make room for confusion when the smattering of pink, yellow and white flowers in Hoseok’s arms suddenly registers in his mind. “Wait, why do you have flowers? I thought you were meeting that boy from the ice cream shop? Oh my god, did you already run him off, that has to be a new record for you—”

“I’m the one who called off the date,” Hoseok interrupts, his grin never fading as Seokjin continues to look at him with growing uncertainty.

“What? I thought you liked him?”

Hoseok shrugs. “I went to buy him flowers before we met up, but I realized that I didn’t really want to be buying flowers for him after all.”

“I… don’t think I’m quite following what you’re saying, Hobi,” Seokjin drawls, eyes wide and brows raised. “You called off the date because you didn’t feel like buying flowers?”

“I called off the date because I realized that I wanted to be buying flowers for you, not the cute ice cream guy,” Hoseok says cheerily, like it’s the most casual thing in the world. “I wanted to be buying a bouquet of flowers for you. I wanted to be meeting you at that restaurant, for a real, actual date.”

Seokjin blinks. Hoseok carries on.

“You see, I was looking at all the different colored roses and I thought ‘Hey, these colors remind me of Seokjin’, and then it hit me that I’m kind of in love with you. Like, really in love with you. Head over heels. Absolutely bonkers. Unbelievably enamored, if you will. Hey, has anyone ever told you that you have really kissable lips? They’re, like, super soft and shiny and pretty. I really wanna kiss them. Can I? Is that too forward of me?”

Hoseok finally halts his rambling of words with an excited grin, completely oblivious to the way Seokjin stands flabbergasted just a few feet in front of him. His chest feels warm and fuzzy and he doesn’t think twice before reaching out and pulling Hoseok into a kiss. It’s messy and uncoordinated and their teeth accidentally clash when Hoseok makes a loud noise of surprise, but it’s perfect, their bodies fitting together like two missing puzzle pieces as they sink into each other’s embrace.

And when Seokjin finally pulls away after an indiscernible amount of time, he finds that the only words he can manage to say are, “That was the least romantic confession I’ve ever heard.”

“Sorry,” Hoseok grins, not actually sorry at all. “Does this mean that you like me back, though?”

Seokjin throws him an incredulous look. “I literally just made out with you in our front doorway. Where all the neighbors can see us.”

“Bros kiss all the time, my dude. I just wanted to make sure that was an ‘i’m-in-love-with-you’ kiss, not an ‘i-know-we’re-bros-and-all-but-i-kinda-wanna-kiss-you-because-you’re-hot’ kiss.”

“Why would it ever be the second option?” Seokjin asks, dumbfounded. “Wait—which of your ‘bros’ have you been kissing? Why didn’t I ever know about this?”

“Jungkook. Only when we’re drunk, though.”

“Oh my god,” Seokjin groans, “Is that where the two of you would run off to every time we went to a house party together?”

Hoseok snickers. “Maybe.”

“I did not need to know that. Please, take it back. Wipe my memory away with one of those little Apple TV remotes from Men In Black.”

“Don’t worry, Jin,” Hoseok laughs, leaning forward to press a light kiss to his lips. “You’re the only person I wanna sneak off with now. Besides, Jungkook has his eyes on Taehyung these days.”

“Whatever,” Seokjin grumbles in a voice that the both of them know isn’t truly bothered. “And to be clear, that kiss earlier was actually a ‘you’re-an-idiot-but-for-some-reason-i-love-you-too kiss. Now get back over here and let me kiss you again.”

Seokjin and Hoseok’s dates still manage to end in disaster more often than not. But Hoseok always reacts with an embarrassed giggle and a smile on his face, and Seokjin wouldn’t want to have it any other way.

A/N; yes i’m alive. sorry 😳

MASTERLIST

#hoseok x seokjin #2seok #hoseok #seokjin #bts fic #bts fluff #bangtanuniversity #bts mxm

74 notes · View notes

kkulmoon · 4 years

Text

I KNEAD YOU | jhs ✦ m

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You have had your mind filled with indecent thoughts of your spin class trainer, Hoseok, ever since you started taking his classes. However discreet you thought your antics had been, Hoseok had somehow found out and was more than willing to fulfil your fantasies.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Hoseok x Reader(f) | 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut, pwp? | 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 18+ | 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.3k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cunnilingus, fingering?, slight praising, ass play, he has his hand around her neck, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys~), slight edging, groping, biting, spanking, bathroom sex.

𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐲: my muse and soulmate @inkedxclouds as well as the amazing @meowxyoong (thank u loves <3333)

𝐚/𝐧: nothing to say other than I seem to like butts more than I thought,,,,, also victoria monét’s “ass like that” was the very inspo for this au, cause that song is a bop and for some reason it gave me hobi vibes + “juice” by lizzo (though I doubt the fic gives off that type of vibe but oh well) enjoy 🥺

Three months down the line and you’d think you would have developed somewhat of a sweat resistance by habitually working out. No, not at all. Still as sweaty as ever, but maybe now it was less about hard work, and more about hard want. You relax onto the closed toilet seat sighing deeply at your unfortunate situation. The changing room wasn’t safe and neither was the shared portion of the washroom.

At every and any small intermission you were offered during the heated class, you dashed towards the toilets letting your sweaty fingers hectically slip against the cold metal of the tap handles. The cold water slipping past your fingers as you tapped its remains on your skin, hoping to cool down or at least seem cool enough. But there’s only so much a little bit of cold water could do for your overheated body. As aware as you were about this, you made it a habit, involuntary of course, to let some of that desire out in the confinements of one of the bathroom stalls.

Today is no exception. You rush to the toilet, rugged breaths filling the air as you snap the flimsy lock shut, bending over to roll off your snug cycling shorts. You think back to Hoseok’s instructions : “You should always keep an eye on your breathing while doing vigorous exercise, you want to avoid back pain and strain on your blood vessels.” Back in class you almost let your thoughts tumble through your heaving mouth. “I don’t think exercise is the one doing that”.

As obedient as you are, you let deep puffs reverberate through your chest before diving in. Your hands, tired from clenching hard against the handle of the cycle to stay on it, tremble their way down your folds swinging with the same dynamic present in Hoseok’s glistening legs while he pedals. Your eyes flutter, blinding you from your surroundings, mind tumbling through all the imprinted images of your instructor you have stored in your mind.

That’s all you need. For now.

While you suck at cycling and picking up speed in that circumstance, the image of Hoseok’s huffing mouth, stable legs, and bouncing brown locks, drenched with his hard work, sticking to him the way you wanted him to stick to you, was more than enough for the tentative deep plunge of your fingers to rival the set speed record for your spin class.

Remember: deep breaths Y/N. You slow down, finger languidly straining against your walls. You hit a particular spot, staggering on the one leg touching the ground as your other hand anchors your edged form onto the whimsy bathroom stall walls.

The slow pace allows you to revel in the imagery of Hoseok’s long fingers pointed high in the air to countdown to your thirty second long spinning sprint, imagining those long digits plunged into the same heat your fingers are scissoring. He would know exactly what to do, ordering consecutive gushes of arousal out of you, the same way his fingers point towards your direction when he sees your energy falter.

With Hoseok, nothing but one hundred percent was acceptable. While you couldn’t always keep the promise of giving him just that in all of his classes, if he were to ask you, whether it be after class or somewhere in the lobby of the gym building, you would say yes to showing him where you excelled without fail.

Heart beating a firing rhythm you would snatch his trained fingers to some designated corner of the building, ready to get on your knees and stay there to take it all, the one posture you knew you could manage to keep without fail. Anything for Hoseok really.

Dripping fingers, drying cycling shorts clinging to your heated flesh, you croak out a moan, doing your best to quiet it down in the sleeve of your gym top. “Shit—” your hips buck into your erratic palm as you knead the sensitive flesh of your bud, hissing through clenched teeth.

“What the fuck are you doing to me, Hoseok,” the whispered whine travels to the small cracks of the bathroom stall, the sloppy sounds of your continued assault on your wetness bounce against the walls to fall upon the ears of the figure entering the toilet room.

“Hmmmm, fuck Hoseo—”

Your anticipated wave of pleasure catches your breath, stuttering breaths colouring the air with its warm essence. “Ahhhh,” you sigh into the sensation rippling through your bones, fisted hand sprawling itself across the cool wood of the bathroom stall door. A particular touch of your knuckles against your clit has your nails scratch against the material.

In the heat of the moment, eyelids heavy and ears focused on recalling the authority of Hoseok’s voice, you fail to register the footsteps that sound in the room. Footsteps that stall themselves during your explosive demonstration of your instructor’s effect on your body only to leave the toilet room after you’ve calmed down and said in a condescending yet satisfied tone, “How pathetic, masturbating to your instructor in the bathroom like some teenager. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Puffing out what’s left of your pent up air, you drag your fingers from your settling walls, staring longingly at the wetness and wishing you could be looking at another pair of fingers glazed with your cum.

Hand hanging lazily by your side you do your best to lift your shorts back up to a correct position using your only available hand. You fiddle with the lock, slowly opening the door. You peek to see if there’s anyone there to whom you might reveal your latest conquest and only probe your head out of the stall when the coast feels clear.

As weak as legs might feel, you do your best to hurry up with the cleaning, washing the product of your forbidden fantasy down the drain just like the possibility of ever actually having the honour to let yourself be used by him in any way he sees fit.

Commanding words and strokes telling you exactly what he wants you to do for him, to give to him and you doing your absolute best to abide with clenched fists and a gagging mouth. You feel yourself fall down the rabbit hole, again, but you bring yourself back with a good shake of your head. You do not have another ten minutes to calm yourself down by attempting to fulfill your own lust.

You take one last look at the mirror to check that you do not look abnormally flustered before you leave to head back into the spinning room, face sweet and innocent, unlike the thoughts trying to invade your mind the moment your eyes focus on their inevitable target.

The hypnotising movement of his lips. Inviting and pink and shimmering from the quick swipe of his pointed lip against the surface. You sigh, in desperation, wishing for the presence of that muscle somewhere else. How pathetic of you, you think, almost releasing a single sobbing sound out of frustration. If only he knew.

You heave yourself into the cycle, fitting your tensed feet into the small caged armor of the pedal, unaware that Hoseok indeed knew and was very much ready to act on it.

His sudden constant and deliberate churning of your increasingly hot figure has you agitated, gaze meeting the floor. It is unusual for Hoseok to get off of his spin bike and personally assist you with your posture. Rather, he settled for quick commanding reminders that were shouted as enthusiastically as possible despite the sternness of his sweating face.

Yet for some reason, unbeknownst to you, he stops spinning and drags his taut slim legs all the way to where you like to stay at the back of the class, to personally adjust your swaying pelvis. “Engage your core. Squeeze your glutes.” He says, the order somehow managing to sound even louder than the blasting music. This is the first time he has touched you. You immediately stop spinning, hips swaying even more than before, chasing the inviting and rough heat of his short finger glove covered hands.

Your heart should have calmed down by the time he got back on his bike, but it doesn’t. You fail to admit to yourself that the coincidental eye contact you had with Hoseok in his classes, was more than enough to throw off your already fumbling posture.

If his wandering eyes are enough for you to follow their movement, accentuating each part that they laid on, his hands on your straining body is all you need to alleviate the ache of your muscles. You turn into a puddle, something that manifests itself right between your legs even before your body comes in contact with his.

“Okay guys, we have another half hour before we are done, so stay with me and there will be a sweet treat at the end,” Hoseok shouts out to the class, bursting your little thought bubble. Your eyes close as you nod, encouraging yourself to pull through, not for the sweet treat but for you. It’s the least you can do given how much you pay for these classes. But what a shame that your eyes are closed, unable to register the hungry and curious gaze Hoseok throws your way.

Twenty minutes have gone by, or maybe just ten? You feel so hot and disoriented from all the effort you’re putting in. Yawning, and trying your best to rid yourself of the final remains of sleep, you had theorised in your car that your goal for this class was to beat your old record, the one you had back when you came to class for the right reasons. Before the thought of riding Hoseok overtook your ambition to get fitter.

Calves burning, every muscle pushing itself to the verge of exhaustion, you think back to your breathing. Your mouth opens and closes as if you are giving birth, trying its best to collect all of the sweat ridden air needed to keep you going.

“Five minutes left. Keep going, you’re almost there!”

Your hanging head, that was focused on counting the sweat droplets falling from your face onto the shiny floor, shoots up to look at your instructor. It must be because of his job as a trainer and a coach that Hoseok flashes you his dashing smile the minute your eyes, gleaming with hope at the prospect of the class soon coming to an end, meets his own soft gaze.

Not wanting to seem rude or like a total nutjob, you tame your panting mouth into a simple smile, no teeth so as to not come across as too excited about something as infantile as eye contact. He winks in response and you swear you almost twist your ankle leaning forward to check if your eyes aren’t deceiving you.

Hoseok’s good at his job. He manages to keep your mind away from the propagating ache in your body as your legs chase time, looking to leave the room with your own small victory. He keeps you rooted and gives you the last bit of energy you need to make it. The timer beeps, startling you. You shake in your seat, breaking your contact with his warm brown eyes. If this is the power of his eyes, what the heck does his body have in store?

As much as you would want to let your mind wander to give you a probable hypothesis to the complicated case that is Hoseok, you’re too far gone to think that deep. Drained and sweaty, your arms dangle on your sides as you let your head lifelessly fall onto the bar of the spin bike. Too weak to push yourself back up but still wanting to know how far you cycled, you roll your drenched head onto the speed counter and stare down at it. At the sight of the double digit number, larger than the previous feat you had achieved, you sigh, a light laugh slipping past your dry lips. Finally some good news. As a way of congratulating yourself, you pat your thighs with the little force you have spared.

The surrounding claps invade your wandering ears, as people shout out, patting themselves in the back and congratulating others for pulling through. Nobody congratulates you but it’s nothing you haven’t had to handle before. Content with your progress, you step off the cycle.

You gather your items, hurrying as you feel the effects of gorging on too much liquid during class. With a drenched towel hanging of your forearm and an empty water bottle in your other hand you speed to the unisex toilet.

As you set your belongings on the sink countertop, someone enters. You don’t bother to spare them a glance, something you regret the minute Hoseok’s familiar tight fitting cycling top is reflected on the wide mirror. Your head instinctively looks his way to admire the soft slope of his nose and the harsh lines of his profile. He knows you’re looking to which he smirks softly. Your body shifts more to your right, afraid of what other things, sinful things, you might feel compelled to do if you stay so close to him.

You aggressively pump some soap into your palm, anything to remove the silence etched in the surrounding air. Hoseok does the same, except he does it graciously like everything else he’s ever done.

“Y/N, right?” He inquires, letting a steady stream of water wet his hands as he lathers them.

Your mind tells you he’s simply asking for formality’s sake. Did he plan to keep a conversation with you in the bathroom? How much could you possibly fit into the time it takes to wash your hands? Unless he plans on drawing it out and drying out his skin? Many more questions run through my mind as you bite your lips, eyes staring at the floor until they inevitably wander up his legs.

This is your verbal first interaction with him that doesn’t seem to hint at any subject related to your given roles in the establishment, a trainer and his trainee. No, he’s asking as Hoseok, curious to know about a certain regular Y/N who spends her free time thinking indecent thoughts about his body.

Realising that you’re taking too long to answer to your own name, you blurt out, “YES!” before clearing your throat in hopes to compose yourself. Swallowing thickly, you have another go at it, “I mean, yes, that’s my name. Y/N is me.”

While your ears warm up at your embarrassing behaviour, Hoseok’s soft chuckle manages to overpower the loud hand dryer. Usually, once someone’s done cleaning their hands they leave the bathroom and that’s exactly what you see Hoseok do. You watch him walk up to the toilet room door only to turn back around to face the mirror, doing your best not to let the dejected feeling in you overtake your features.

You breathe in, trying your best to catch your sanity. He was just being nice and trying to break the tension, one you seem to believe could only be perceived from your side. With eyes closed, you let the cool rush of the water provide some sort of relaxation and solution to your heated body. Your dripping hands reach towards the hand dryer on your side only to reach back when you think about the hot air, you don't need to get fired up again, so you decide to pat yourself dry with paper towels.

Ready to leave, you look up into the mirror to take one last inspection at your face.

Oh.

Hoseok’s eyes catch your own. He’s leaning against the toilet’s room door frame, head slightly hanging to his side and tongue dancing calmly in the small intrusion between his lips. You thought he left?

You want to look away, but you can’t. Not only because of the demanding energy coating his eyes, but also because of the entrancing way he runs a hand past his hair, heel kicking against the door as he pushes himself off of it.

He darts towards you. Or at least that’s what it feels like to you. An overwhelming wave of desire coats your senses forcing your legs to stagger backwards as your butt comes in contact with the hard and cold edge of the sink counter.

Those hands, those fingers, the ones you’ve fantasied about having buried inside of you or stuffed in your mouth, find their way on each side of you anchoring themselves on the hard surface as Hoseok corners.

He’s close. Close enough to hear your shallow breathing, to notice your confused yet intrigued eyes and to smell the fertilised desperation in your body. Head somewhat leaned down so as to reach your gaze, he lets his eyes take their own free tour around your face, mouth slightly parted.

“I don’t think it’s pathetic at all,” he breathes out, sloping down to bathe your hot ears in his warm breath, “it’s cute, actually.” The sweet tone is almost enough to deceive you of his intentions but the prominent scraping of his teeth against your earlobe makes it clear.

Your chest curls into itself at the action, slipping down, out of reach from his inviting mouth. You want to think it’s a coincidence that Hoseok references your words from earlier but to simply think isn’t enough, you need to confirm it. “Uhmm… I don’t kn–ow what you’re referring to.” It comes out more jagged than you intended to as he steps closer, so as to almost graze your heaving chest.

A pout on his lips, his gaze zig zags across your features, “See, cute.”

You feel like you’re melting. Your face finds refuge in the minor protection of your shoulder as you squeeze your eyes shut. This is all you had thought about. To have Hoseok look at you as if he already knew what is obscured from his sigh, for now, a sight he couldn’t wait to explore. To let his eyes, hands and mouth colour his imagination into reality.

“I mean that it would be nice if I could show you what I can actually do to you.” If you were properly breathing before you sure you aren’t anymore. His voice is covered with sweetness and curiosity. It acts as both a gentle threat and a request. He could and would show you.

The rub of your knee against his thinly clothed thigh says yes before you manage to catch enough air to utter an eager “please”, eyes opening to stare at his chest. “Go ahead,” at the sight of your yearning eyes he encourages you. The thin elastic material did little to protect your sanity from the hardness of his body.

Had your eyes been closed, you could have been fooled into believing that you were touching his naked chest. You pinch the material, tugging it off his skin only to let it slap back down. Something that brings a soft smile to Hoseok’s shifting lips. Hoping that he understands your wordless request, you repeat the action a couple more times.

He dodges your eyes more than once, letting his playful side show, before he leans into you. Your lips collide, strong enough to have your head inclined against the mirror, your body moving upwards at every hungry push of his determined body. You latch onto him, hands lacing themselves around his straining biceps as you match the feverish dance of his tongue.

If your moaning wasn’t already evidence enough of your state, Hoseok’s willingness to offer more encourages him to run a slow swipe of his delicate hands up your thigh and dangerously close to where you’ve imagined him placing every class that you’ve attended. The touch is prominent enough to have you squirming, letting whiny moans spill into his smirking lips as your legs bring him closer.

But Hoseok’s gentle yet clear tapping of your thighs tells you he has something else in mind. “Stand back up.” The order is clear yet in your current hazy state, you slide off the counter anticipating your weak landing, something Hoseok takes care of by pushing you flush against him.

Following through, he presses his long fingers in the soft flesh of your ass, spreading your cycling shorts covered cheeks all while pushing you closer to his straining cock. Spread out, head shying away from looking at his face, he leans in with a soft whisper, “Now tell me, kitty, how did you get an ass like this?”

Timid hands roam across his hard frame as your intended whisper becomes a rushing gasp, pulled out from you by Hoseok’s prominent kneading of your ass, “You.”

“What did you say, sweetheart?”

Hesitant, and quite frankly too hot to think straight, you let it all spill out.

“It’s because of you. You gave me an ass like this.”

“Huh, you think so?” His stretched palm travels up and down your clothed cheeks. You don’t respond letting the steady stream of strained moans be an answer in itself. “So you’re saying, my classes gave you this juicy ass,” He hisses out, firmly squeezing the jiggly flesh.

You nod your head against his shoulder, humming in agreement, the cadence at which the soft moans escape intensifying. Moans that you attempt disguise by biting into his cycling jersey.

“Don’t you think I should get to enjoy what I created?” The implications of his question makes your breath hitch.

What is he thinking of doing. Anal? Eating your ass? Spanking? Your mind is in haywire but you know what you think.

“You can do anything you want.”

“Anything?”

You nod once again, hardened buds tickling his covered chest. All Hoseok does is smirk at your eagerness.

“Not today, kitty,” he pushes lightly against your breasts, making your shiver at the friction, turning you around with a swift hand as he shakes his head, “I like it from the back.”

You’re now facing the mirror, able to notice the distraught state of your body as your desperation creeps further into your limbs. Hoseok finds himself caging you in again, but while you could have hid your warming face in his chest before, now you’re completely exposed.It’s something that brings a playful expression to his features.

As if he wasn’t already close enough to you, Hoseok drives his eager hips into the heated plumpness of your butt and your fingers tense further around the edge of the countertop. Every hitching breath of yours is complemented with his groans.

“What a beautiful ass I’ve made,” he says, pride in his voice as he crouches down behind you to give each cheek its own shameless squeeze. “Don’t you agree?”

“Hmm,” you hum breathlessly before a pointed strike to your cheek makes it clear that that’s not how he wants you to respond. Nodding, head straining backwards to catch Hoseok’s dark gaze, your knees buckle driving your ass closer to his face while you whine out a stuttering yes.

Hoseok’s your trainer. He knows how breathing works during physical activities and makes it known that, whether or not you’re in class, he rules still apply. It’s soft, yet commanding whispers to not forget to breathe or he will stop, tingling confessions that let his appetite for your body infest your nerves as you delve deeper into despair. You want his cock inside of you and, unlike your willingness to wait, his patience is much greater.

The continuous sway of hips quickens his breaths, and they land on your shoulder where they leave shivers that travel down your spine forcing you to shimmy your ass into his crotch even harder. “Come on, kitty, patience.” He breathes out, biting your scalding shoulder.

“Nghh, but plea—,” the hard slap that lands on your misbehaving cheeks has you stiffening, hands slipping against the glass. At this point you’re sure you’re not going to sit down on your train ride back home. Hoseok seems to want to leave you sore and marked.

“I said patience. I will give you what you need when I want to.” You nod lazily, not that your mind registers the sentence, but the alarming tone has you on your best behaviour.

Your compliant action earns you a few sloppy kisses along your covered shoulders, his hands snaking upwards to catch the zipper and let it slide down as you bend, body yearning for his touch until his determined hands engulf your freed and neglected mounds.

“Hmmm, just as soft and juicy as your ass.” He moans loud and clear and you fear someone outside might hear. Yet it still makes you melt onto his hard body. “Hose—yes, like that, ahhhh.”

Hoseok, given his position, does like orders, something he lets you know by running his fingers around your perked buds and squeezing them so hard you screech and bend even deeper. Fuck. As much as it hurts it also feels so good; your watering folds are proof enough.

“I don’t like to repeat myself, Y/N. Misbehave and I’ll keep drawing this out, leaving you wet and begging for me.” His tone is calculated and laced with a certain layer of pity that has you whining as you place one hand on his forearms to turn around and meet his eyes.

You witness the slowed blinking of his eyelids and hope that he can decipher your distressed eyes that ask for more. While Hoseok cares for his trainees, he likes to push them to see how far they can go. That’s what the smirk creeping up on his lips tells you.

“All in due time, kitty. First, let me taste something that I want to make mine.” One confident hand pats your dripping pussy to further awaken your sensitive nerve endings. Your thighs instinctively snap shut capturing his hand. Hoseok catches your eyes in the mirror, shaking his head before delivering another strike to your ass.

“Ahhh, shit,” you bite your quivering lips and let your hesitant thighs part to welcome the sweet slide of Hoseok’s fingers past your clothed folds as he hums in approval at the present wetness. “Just how I like it.” The praise compels a soft smile on your end.

You can’t hide the confusion that coats your features when he suddenly extracts his hand, something that has him snickering to himself. He enjoys torturing you and you want to complain but you don’t think your ass could handle anymore pain so you suck up your remarks along with some air.

Your head dances around, left to right and back again trying to figure out what exactly he plans to do as he crouches back down to face your butt. Before you can enquire in order to save yourself from any surprise attacks, he dives his head into the expanse of your globes shaking it as you squeal trying your best not to lose your stance.

He hums deeply, breathing in your scent and you whimper once his wet tongue pokes out to slide along your pussy lips, his saliva mixing in with your oozing arousal. His arms snake around your thighs, fingers digging into the flesh to push you further against his face. “Fuck, your kitty is dripping for me.” You manage to hear the muffled sound above the blend of his groans and your stumbling moans. But for once Hoseok doesn’t abide by his own rules as his hands rush to the hem of your cycling shorts, wanting nothing more than to rip them apart, to have you bare as to allow him to witness your clenching pussy– soon to be his pussy.

Exposed and wet, ready for him since the day you laid eyes on him, you stare down at his soft brown locks, where your hands will find refuge in shortly, and try your best to examine his eager expression through hooded eyes. He has your right leg up on his shoulder and you let the rhythm of his stroking hand guide your breaths. “So fucking pretty,” his other hand travels up your other thigh, “and wet,” he bites his lips leaning into your drenched center, “and mine.”

It’s only one lick but you already feel like falling apart, hands squeaking against the mirror. “Ahhh shit,” your hips move on their own accord, meeting his hot appendage and coating it with your increasing neediness. Either Hoseok doesn’t mind or your eagerness, looking to satisfy your own urge, doesn’t register in his mind as all that’s there is the goal to have you trembling and gushing all over his hungry mouth.

For each lap at your folds, he takes a breath away. Your fingers find the courage to place themselves on his head, soft hair left to be scrunched in your clenched fist. His head moves vigorously up and down, drinking up your juices under feverish groans and needy hands that latch on the cheeks of your ass to keep you from staggering away.

His tongue drives your pants, saturating your cunt with pointed licks coupled with soft nibbles at your throbbing clit, an action that has you quivering in surprise. “So fucking sweet,” he drags out the suckling of your vulva as he hums, satisfaction clear on his face as his tongue slides across his bottom lips. You mewl, hips bucking into the empty air. He plants a soft kiss on your heat, “Just for me. How cute.”

“Hoseok, please,” your strained plea runs from your lips without much thought to meet his mocking pout. You’re so close, you just need him to keep lapping at your soaked entrance, feasting on your juices and you would come undone before you know it.

However Hoseok seems to have other plans in mind as he stands back up, the straining in his pants all the more noticeable in his tight shorts. He leans in to kiss your neck, holding your behind flush against his cock. “Unfortunately, I can’t eat you out until you fall apart. We wouldn’t want anyone to come open the door, now would we?”

Your want has made you forget your predicament. You’re in the bathroom of your gym, ready to have the trainer you’ve been daydreaming about rail your neediness away. He made sure to lock the door but someone could soon start asking questions, looking for staff to complain to. Staff who would surely hurry to unlock the door, after all client satisfaction is important. Something that Hoseok is very aware of.

You shake your head as his husk approval meets your slick ear, “Good kitty.” He bites the shell of your ear, scraping against the heating flesh, “Now spread your legs for me.” You shuffle your feet side to side following his orders, legs too heavy to lift. “You’re doing so good for me,” he says, hoping to reassure you as his hands leave your body and you watch him, in the mirror, slide his pants down to expose his erect and flushed cock.

You almost turn around on instinct, one based on your countless dreams of having him in your mouth, weighing down your tongue. But you stay put, resorting to ogling his long and pretty dick. Hoseok doesn’t seem to mind as his hand goes to stroke lazily at the throbbing length while continuing to keep his distance from you.

His eyes lock with yours and you whimper because you know exactly what you could do to that dick of his if he’d just let you. However, he’s adamant on having his way with you. Maybe another time? Maybe. You close your eyes to let the sour thought of this being a one time occasion wash away and let Hoseok’s touch bring you back to the moment at hand.

His hand digs into the flesh of your hips and your needy heat clenches around empty air at the sweet and slow slide of the fleshy and precum glazed tip of his cock. Hoseok’s likes to drink up your reactions, staring into the mirror to admire your furrowed brows, your open mouth and your squeezed eyelids as he continues to run his pulsating member up and down your slit. He slips up, his enthusiasm getting the best of him as the tip grazes your clit and you bite into your clenched fist, your moan still managing to seep through.

Hoseok’s chest leans into your back as he places one of his hands above yours. He orders your gaze to meet his, the other hand hiding between your bodies to position himself at your entrance.

“This is gonna be just like our sprints in class. Are you ready, kitty?”

You munch on your wet lip, and repeat, through your panting mess, the only the only two words that seem to be in your mind, “Hoseok plea—ahhh”

His hard cock eases into your needy walls, slowly filling you up as his other hand moves back to restrain your only free hand. Chest against back, hands weighing on yours, and forehead bent down against your shoulder, he bottoms out and you release a combined sigh. You shut eyes spring open to stare at the delightful connection between your edged bodies. You can’t comprehend the situation, nor do you try to. This is really happening, huh?

It feels too good. Too good to be true and too good for your practically spasming pussy. Hoseok’s calm approach is short-lived, his second thrust as frantic as your breaths. The force at which he moves inside your slick walls, force strong enough to have the edge of the sink countertop dig against your stomach.

Your hand reaches back to hold onto his shoulder, trying your best to stay stable as each continuous attack of his hips sounds against your tender ass. Hoseok drags his dick out, making you moan and pant so much you’re clouding the mirror. He eagerly snaps back against your straining tightness, bottoming out as he puffs out laboured breaths and you gasp into your trembling shoulder. “Yes, yes, right there,” you sigh in between ragged breaths

He delivers another pointed thrust, pumping himself deeper into your warmth, “Here?” He breathes out and you nod hastily.

You can feel the short yet intense slap of his balls against your ass, the thrill of it all making you bend to spread your legs even further apart. Your face only centimeters away from the cold, metal tap, you shriek feeling the weight of Hoseok’s imprints on the small of your back as he pounds your sopping pussy. “Shit, all of this for me?” He pants, delivering his beloved strikes on the ass he’s made.

With your current limited vocabulary all you can do is nod, head bracing itself in the crook of your arm. Chasing your own pleasure, all while melting on the wonder that’s Hoseok’s cock, you move your hips to meet the now frantic pummelling of his straining dick.

One of his hands migrates to surround the soft and tender flesh of your neck as he pulls you up to reveal your fucked out gaze. “So fucking pretty.” He suckles the skin of your neck, biting into it to suppress his own moans. You wrap your hand around his forearm, chanting your go-to high-pitched request once again, this time managing to add one more word, “Hoseok, please, harder.”

Your heart is about to leap out of your chest at sight of the soft gaze he throws under heavy eyelids. “Anything for you, kitty.” And he gives you just that. He pumps in and out, hard, hand still around your neck, more so as a sweet gesture to help your head stay put as he admires his work. His other arm pushing you flush against his body, mushing your ass cheeks against his crotch. A feeling he welcomes with a low hiss.

Hoseok’s dick pulsates against your walls, as they suck him deeper, his length allowing him to graze spots in you nobody has touched before. The quick and pointed hammering makes your breath stutter. You’re so close, you think, but fail to communicate, mouth unable to form any coherent sounds apart from heavy moans and whines.

You spare a glance in Hoseok’s direction, to see his head nested in the crook of your neck, eyes shut and his cheeks puff out for every passionate thrust he delivers. Warmth, not the kind that comes from your current vigorous activity, but the one that’s born out of hope for more, overtakes you only this time you have no wish to dispel it.

Your free hand meets your sensitive bud, rubbing circles as his cock continues to make a mess of you. He must have felt the soft graze of your fingertips against his hot girth as his hands move to meet yours. He slides his fingers past your slick coating fingers that are soon placed back on your clit. Digits dancing around each other, your chest stutters into the bliss, back morphing into the bend of his chest. “Oh,Hos– ahhh, I’m clo–se.”

Hoseok finds the sounds that leave you endearing, a smile stretching along his lips. “Go on kitty, let my pussy cum all over me.” You shut your eyes, lips pressed against each other, glutes clenched to Hoseok’s striking approval, letting your pent up and often castoff desire for a certain man with a blinding smile, and inspiring ethic rush over your limbs, choked moans leaving your once sealed lips.

He thrusts on every breath intake, adamant on literally taking your breath away as his own unraveling follows shortly. Even in this state of frenzy, he manages, ever the professional and hard worker, to land his last thrusts just where he wants them. Deep within you, before he snatches his hypnotising member away from your ever yearning heat to decorate your back with a fat load, as he grunts out, “Ugh, hmph–mine.”

Strikes of white cum hit you as you sigh, trying your best to regulate your breathing all while hitting your face to convince yourself of the reality of the situation. You just fucked your trainer. The one you’ve been fantasising about for the past three months. You try to find some sort of guilt, looking to appease your mind and assure yourself that nothing bad will come out of this.

You’ll still be able to attend your lessons each week, sitting down at your same spot, staring ahead at him indifferently as he manages to not even break a sweat during his excruciating classes. You tell yourself that you’re sure everything will go back to normal once the two of you step outside the sex stenched toilet room. Everything will be just fine. You almost believe it, until you’re brought back to the present moment, as he swipes a cool water drenched paper towel against your ruined slit. Yeah, this is bad.

Mixing fantasies, longing stares and care can only lead to one possible thing. A bus you doubt he would jump on if it were to show up at his door steps. You scramble to retrieve the towel and proceed to clean yourself. Hoseok jumps at your less than gentle action, but decides not to give it much thought, unlike you.

“Thanks,” you attempt to lessen your rude behaviour. He gives you a lopsided smile, winking away your weakly established reassurance that you’ll manage not to think about this encounter from a point of view that’s filled with craving feelings and expectations.

“That was nice.”

You fail to suppress the laughter that’s screaming to be released, to see him flustered has you smiling, nodding reassuringly at his statement.

“Very nice, indeed,” you respond, throwing away the towel as you join Hoseok in putting your cycling shorts back on and closing the zipper of your cycling jersey.

Your eyes travel across the room to make sure that nothing is terribly out of place or different before your hands stroke down your front while you stare at the now silent man. You wait, expecting him to say something, wanting him to. When he doesn’t seem to have it in his plans to speak again, you turn around to walk towards the key he left in the lockset of the door.

A loud cough sounds behind you and you snap around, eyes eagerly staring at him to notice the full blown smile on his glowing face, making your heart skip.

His fingers gestures towards his back and once he notices your confused expression, he articulates his concern with a small laugh and scratch to his neck, “Uhm, you kinda forgot the back, my…. yeah, is still there”

“Oh,” you turn around to look at your back through the mirror. The sight alone of his cum has your mouth watering and legs clenching, something that doesn’t go unnoticed to Hoseok’s focused eyes. Just the reassurance he needed to feel like you weren’t completely regretting what just happened. “Right.” You sidestep him to reach for some more paper towels, hands trying their best to clean it up only to end up smearing it even more.

Hoseok’s hand reaches out. “May I?” Sighing you nod, discarding the ruined towels in the bin.

On second thought, you should have said no and struggled through the clean up on your own. The soft press of his digits against your back ignites your skin and pulls you back to the not so distant events in your mind. Your sharp breath intakes at each touch from his body further aids Hoseok in building back his confidence.

You definitely liked him, or at least your body did. He thinks and he would definitely not mind a repeat, preferably somewhere where he did not need to worry about time or intruders and where he could knead your ass to his heart’s content.

Once done, you step away, this time thoroughly cleaned and ready to leave. You turn back to follow your previous path, hand clenched around the key refusing to unlock the door as you await another interjection from his part. To unlock the door means this is finally over and as much as you might not believe this to be your best decision, you still want to bask in the awkward sweetness of the aftermath, just for a few more seconds. But Hoseok stays silent this time.

Your hand weights down on the handle, pushing it towards you. Sighing, you are brought back to reality as you stare at the bypassers outside of the toilet room. Your hand releases the handle, walking out and heading towards the changing rooms.

Your steps are slow, ready to halt upon his request. Yet, all your ears can hear is the shuffling of hurried feet and the sound of other classes taking place. Soon enough, you’re walking slow out of dejection rather than apprehension.

“Hey! Y/N!” Your skin shivers at the timbre of the familiar voice and you walk faster to stop a bit further away. You don’t want him to think that you were waiting for him.

Your body whips around, using the little resolve you have left to mask your delight at the sight of him.

“I’ll see you next week,” it comes out as a blend between a question and an affirmation and you can see in his eyes that he needs you to clarify the nature of his statement for him. To let him know there could in fact be more than today.

“I’ll see you next week, Hoseok.” You smile sheepishly as you turn around to scurry towards your intended destination, squealing into the palms of your hands. Hands that had touched him and had been caressed by him. Ultimately, hands that couldn’t wait to knead him the way he kneaded you.

Posted: July 16 2020

a/n: feel free to share any feedback, it’s always deeply appreciated 🥺

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99liners · 2 years

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I just completed reading nodus tollens from tatemae series AGAIN n i can't seem to have enough of it u r a really talented writer

I was thinking that in pjms case it's kinda weird to see him be posssessive and desperate over rie with him being a former fuckboy

With what i have read in ur oneshot i dont really see him as clingy type sure he is possessive, insecure n a control freak but clingy I dunno

Like how clingy is he, is he like rie u need to spend atleast 12 hours a day with me n does he take her to his studio just so he could be with her n always like tracking her location n all

N I wanted to ask how would tatemae men react to their wife being clingy n vice versa

How tatemae couple will take care of their spouse during fever

Btw HAPPY NEW YEAR TAKE CARE ✨✨💓💓💞

aw, that is so heartwarming to know <3 thank you for giving it so much love and a blessed new year to you, sweets.

true, he is a fuckboy but if you notice the monologues / inner battles of jimin in their initial dating phase – his desperate side was peeking out. you know, how he constantly tried to fight his thoughts in regards to making the first move / texting her but he failed and did all of that first.

he has not dated much, he slept around a lot but he never had a sustaining relationship where he genuinely liked the other person – not just their body, but also their personality, mentality, thoughts, inter alia. in all the dates, they only talked and got to know each other better, which is very contradictory to jimin's fuckboy nature. it is just that he had not found the right person but with rei, he did and it clicked and bam comes his real self.

clingy can be a lot of things. for instance, i am a very loner type of a person, so if someone does not give me the space to be just alone even for a few minutes a day, that makes me feel like the person is being clingy. you know how people say that couples taking shower together is romantic or whatever? i find that very uncomfortable – not the physical or sexual connotation behind it but just the thought that i cannot even wash up alone.

so yeah, being clingy is not necessarily a set way, it can be a plethora of things.

MTL among the OCs tolerating clinginess:

most

rei: it is not something she appreciates but gets along with.

dany: she seems chill and literally gets coddled by the jung family regarding everything.

aeira: i know jk is not clingy but whatever he is, he also has no qualms for privacy.

aria: she won't enjoy it but won't outright protest against it.

shiza: hates it, hates every aspect of it. she needs to be left alone.

tanaz: would literally bonk you on the head.

least

MTL among the tatemae men tolerating clinginess:

most

jhs: he is v touch-starved so would actually like having you around all the time.

knj: he is v laidback and calm person. might ask aria to stop once or twice but would not scold her for being clingy and tolerate it.

pjm: talk about getting a taste of own medicine. unsurprisingly, he won't like it as much as he does it to rei.

jjk: 10/10 would push aeira away. bitch get out the way

kth: don't do that to him. absolutely hates it.

myg: he will screech lol, would legit have a verbal outburst.

least

#asks #anon #askjaim #tatemae series #enouement #nodus tollens #adronitis #psychomachy #kaiho #liberosis

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thoughts-on-bangtan · 3 years

Text

BTS at Golden Disc Awards 2021

by Admin 1

On the 9th and 10th of January 2021 BTS attended the Golden Disc Awards, and performed on the second day as well. Being there they won the Digital Bonsang for Dynamite on the 9th and the Bonsang, as well as the Album Daesang for Map of the Soul : 7, on the 10th. Amazing achievements which I sincerely congratulate them on.

When it comes to the performance, it was, most certainly, another amazing collection of stages bringing something new once more, even if they presented songs we’ve already seen at previous award shows this season. The opening came in form of Black Swan, though they didn’t sing any of it. It was more an intro showcasing the entrance of the members and highlighted Yoongi’s return to the stage, at least partially.

The stage featured big metal winds, low lighting, and the members clad in black and white clothing including leather elbow length gloves for Namjoon and Yoongi, and pretty chockers for Taehyung and Jimin. The highlight though was Jungkook’s hair which isn’t dark anymore, but instead has been bleached and dyed a pretty blond. Personally I think it suits him pretty well.

More below the cut since this is shaping up to be pretty long:

Next up was ON, which was powerful and fierce, though still missing Yoongi, which is all too understandable. Even though he can stand on stage again and hold his mic in his left hand (his surgery was on the left shoulder), it will still be a while until he’ll be able to dance with the members. ON has certainly grown a lot on me and I enjoy their performances of it immensely, and it was much the case this time as well.

The transition from ON to Life Goes On came in form of the stage being made to look like their individual rooms from BE which appeared on the digital walls around them. Their clothes were mostly comfy, though Jimin’s resembled their outfits from all the way back during I NEED U/RUN era. The transition/VCR like moment ended with the instrumental to We Are Bulletproof : The Eternal and the stage looking much the way the MV did with the whale swimming around them in an ocean of shades of purple, blue and pink.

For Life Goes On they had miniature versions of some of their most iconic MV sets on pedestals. It was a really cute idea and I enjoyed the execution a lot. The members seemed relaxed and enjoying themselves, Jimin and Taehyung even having their little moment of looking at each other twice, these moments certainly having become something I always kind of look forward to when it comes to LGO stages.

Another tiny Jimin and Taehyung detail was Jimin sending a brief, barely noticeable (by the viewer) finger heart which I hadn’t even noticed until my fourth rewatch. It definitely fits with all these other small gestures we’ve seen from these two in recent months, like the finger hearts and kissy faces during their Lotte Family Concert performance of Boy with Luv or hugging each other on day 1 and doing a fun handshake and dance on day 2 during Dionysus at the MOTS ON:E concert visible only on one of the side cameras, not the main one.

The grand finale was the Slow Jam remix of Dynamite which worked perfectly with the chill out lounge/bar atmosphere created on stage fitting with the Great Gatsby theme. The members wore mostly suits in white, blue in Namjoon’s case, and a bright yellow when it comes to Taehyung, as well as Hoseok who had a white button down which Tae did not. While a normal person would look ridiculous in it, Taehyung looked absolutely stunning and made it more than work. After so many energetic performances of Dynamite since its release, seeing such a calm version was really nice and refreshing, showing how versatile BTS and their music are, how they can captivate an audience with fast songs made for big choreographies and stage productions, but also these slow, more chill types of tracks. A marvelous idea, truly.

There was also an encore stage where they sang ON again but this time along with Yoongi on stage which had some hilarious moments, especially Namjoon and Seokjin being silly waving their arms around while kneeling opposite each other on stage during Jungkook’s bridge. Cute.

Afterward the members were at something like a red carpet after interview where they took pictures with their awards (Jungkook and Taehyung even making their Bonsang and Daesang awards kiss much the way film director Bong Joon Ho made his two Oscars kiss last year) and were asked to do a relay of saying something to each other.

All translations of their words are taken from Vernal_Bom on twitter.

J-hope to Jimin

“I didn’t feel lonely in 2020 thanks to Jimin. Thank you for making me laugh. Give me happiness and laugh in 2021 as well.” Jimin (turning to Namjoon): “It seems he can never live without me”

Honestly the bond between Jimin and Hoseok is so cute and wonderful and you can see, and hear in their words, how important they are to each other, and how grateful Hobi is. We know the members were having a really hard time in 2020 so it doesn’t surprise me that Hobi would highlight the other members, or in this case Jimin, as one of the main reasons why he made it through it. After all we also know that those two made a song together which unfortunately didn’t make it onto BE. Hopefully we might get it one day at least as SoundCloud release, or perhaps on the next album instead.

Jimin to RM

It was you who made us pull ourselves together to go through 2020. I am always grateful, and it’d be nice if you share you height a little with me in 2021, be healthy and happy. RM: Okay thank you

I love how Jimin used this (public) opportunity to tell/remind Namjoon of how important he was for them especially in 2020, as leader and surely also as friend, yet still also made a little joke to still keep the atmosphere light. After he was done speaking Jimin also hugged Namjoon, which showed once more how tiny he is in comparison.

RM to JK

It’s finally today, Jungkook-si, in 10 years! You are Golden Maknae! The day that you will prove your nickname! You are proving it right now with your hair color, but in 2021, I hope the year will be filled with gold, like your nickname. Stay healthy. Let’s ‘Jje-kkit-up’ together this year too! (check it up.. the usual Namjoon saying lol)

It’s quite something to think about and realize, isn’t it, this year 10 years pass since Jungkook became a BigHit trainee and moved into their first dorm with Namjoon, Hoseok, Yoongi and Seokjin. I’m curious if Bangtan, as well as BigHit, have some kind of plan for JK specifically for this year that Namjoon chose to highlight his Golden Maknae nickname in such a way, or if it was more of a reminder to JK, that he’s so worthy despite how he doubts himself, and despite how he himself said he’s been going through tough times in 2020.

JK to V

V hyung, when we were trainees we were getting along so well, (V: We are not now???) No!!! i didn’t mean it. You are becoming so much of an stand-up (reliable, I assume in this context) guy. Thank you for doing all the schedules with us. jhope: who’s hyung here?

The bond these two share might just be one of the biggest mysteries and causes for conflicts and fights within the fandom, or particular parts of it. After their conversation In The SOOP, I’d like to believe they’ve figured out whatever issue might've arisen between them in the past, found a way to solve and move past it slowly, and rekindled their friendship once more. Seeing at how well they’ve been getting along (on camera) these past few months, I think it might've been so. It’s curious to me though that JK chose to say this instead of something more akin to what Jimin said to Namjoon, or Hoseok to Jimin.

V to Jin

V: (turns to Jin) Jin: This is too close V: I listened to Abyss and that makes my heart ache too... Jin: Thank you V: hyung, your song is so good. Make more songs in 2021, let Army and us listen to your song more. Jin: Okayokay V: and I play game with you to relieve stress.... sorry for talking in ban-mal (informal form). —(also speaking in informal way) Jin: No no it was so fun V: I love you Jin: I love you too

I absolutely adore the bond these two share and I love that Tae chose to say what he did. We know Seokjin has been going through a hard time in 2020, that he dealt with something I’d call imposter syndrome, so I’m glad we got to know even more about how Tae was there for him, something we otherwise would’ve never known. Certain people try to portray Tae as the one member that is almost estranged from his other members, who barely has anything to do with the group outside of schedules, and yet it’s moments like this--as well as Seokjin telling us in his birthday vlive that Tae organized for everyone including his non-BTS friends to send Seokjin birthday wishes in video form to show him how loved and appreciated he is--are the proof that those people are wrong. Tae is very close with his members, and he’s the ambassador of OT7 or nothing, the members his closest friends and brothers, his found and chosen family.

Jin to Suga

Jin: Yoongi ya, do it well. Suga: Okay.... Jin: Do well on your rehab, and...uh... let’s do well going forward. Suga: Okay.. I will...

These two are so close yet due to their introverted nature their interactions such as this one are just so hilarious and adorable at the same time. Their dynamic is wonderful and this just seems like peak Yoongi-Jin behavior.

Suga to j-hope

SG: (unable to look into hobi’s eyes) Our hobi JH: Suga! SG: You did work hard in 2020 (evading eye contact) JH: hahhahahah and? SG: Let’s not fall sick in 2021, and hwaiting... JH: “Hwaiting hyung, and take good care of your health!”

The saga of Yoongi being unable to look Hoseok in the eye continues and it’s just as precious as ever. They stood so close, and while Yoongi wasn’t able to look into Hoseok’s eyes, it’s funny how he was the one who initiated the whole “them standing so close together” thing. I love the difference between how Seokjin didn’t even try to make eye-contact while Hoseok playfully challenged Yoongi and tried to coax him into it anyway knowing it’ll make Yoongi laugh and smile. It’s such a Yoongi-Hoseok thing, I love it.

And with that, the award was over and now also my post. I hope you enjoyed reading it! :3

#bts #bangtan seonyandan #golden disk awards #golden disc awards 2021 #jimin #taehyung #jungkook #namjoon #seokjin #yoongi #hoseok #vmin #namjin #life goes on #performance commentary #Vmin cute moments #Namjin being silly together #Yoongi is back!#bts gif

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oikaw-ugh · 4 years

Note

HI told u im gonna req smth 👀 may i request headcanons of oikawa, bokuto, and tsukki catching their crush (or s/o, u choose!!) sing and play their guitar in secret? 💞 no pressure 😗 thank you very much!!! -🥧 (i think u'll know who's this tho HASHAAHA)

+ omg forgot to mention: i chose them since they're kinda the expressive/teasing type so if that interaction happens with the reader that would be LOVELY 💞 THANK U AGAIN -🥧

OMG WHO IS THIS 👁️👄👁️ I'M KIDDING AND YES I DEFINITELY KNOW YOU UWU 🥺✨

Oikawa, Bokuto, and Tsukki catching their s/o sing and play their guitar in secret.

God knows how much I love to write but I CRINGED WITH THE OVERFLOWING KILIG 'CAUSE SOMEONE REQUESTED (AGAIN) AND I'M EXPLODING!

I'm actually very nervous right now but anxiousness and procrastination is my profession so 👁️👄👁️

Oikawa Tooru

Ah, my first love.

Oikawa, after his volleyball practice, went to your classroom to fetch you since you didn't really like watching his practices and matches with all the fangirls around 👀

Usually, group of students tend to stay at their classrooms after class to finish stuff or just to chill (so me) so most likely, you’re never alone.

So Oikawa is surprised upon arriving at your room only to see you all alone as you sit on the teacher's table with this guitar on your lap.

You actually brought your guitar for a group performance in a subject (JHS feels ✨)

"Ikaw ang Binibini na ninanais ko" kidding. You definitely sang an english love song not that HAHAHAHAHA (sorry LSS)

He didn't announce his arrival, you know? He hid his self at the doorway, staring at you (like a stalker-) as you drown yourself with your guitar and your voice.

Listening to you was 👌 so good and before you knew it, you earned yourself a fan.

Silently, he took his phone and was aiming to record your guitar session.

But lmao Tooru had the flash on his cam on

Surprised, you looked at the doorway, only to see your boyfriend peeping like a creep.

"Tooru, what are you doing?"

"I was trying to record you." 👁️👄👁️

The fact that your boyfriend saw you playing the guitar and singing made you blush. You placed your guitar on the table-

"No! No! No! Don't stop, Y/N!" Oikawa stops you as he runs towards you.

"But it's embrassing"

Now he's mad at you. He glues his hands in his hips like a mother, "Non-sense! You're so good, you can pass as an artist!"

That makes you more embarrassed honestly but he keeps on showering you praises to the point that you can no longer tell if they were real or just bluff.

He will definitely bug you to continue playing your guitar even though you made excuses but he's not buying them.

"Play this song!" "Do you know this song?" "Play this song next!" He says that while his phone is recording you.

In the end, it became a live performance of you and Oikawa as your audience. He has this grin in his face as he rests his chin in his palms, the other hand holding his phone, looking as if he is being lulled with your voice and your guitar.

After he's finally had enough of listening to you, he'd give you a tight hug after you zipped up your guitar case. Kissing the top of your head, he'd shower you praises again as if the praises earlier weren't enough.

"You're so good, Y/N, you should've told me you can sing and play the guitar." "I'm gonna brag about this to Iwa-chan and the rest tomorrow." "Can I post your video at my IG?"

Bokuto Koutarou

Another first love

Singing and playing the guitar are hobbies you don't really share with other people.

But when your classmate brought their guitar to school, you couldn't help but to give in to the urge to borrow.

Your classmates were totally in awe as they hear you sing and play. This makes you feel so flustered but sistz, we stan an individual who shows the world their talent! 🥺✨

Anyways, it has became a ritual for you and your boyfriend, Bokuto, to eat lunch together at your room. Most of your classmates eat at the cafeteria and Bokuto hated the thought of you eating alone so...

Waiting for Bokuto to arrive, you took your classmates' guitar and started to get familiar with it by playing simple chords and humming in to a familiar song.

"Oh, Binibini, just touch my body" kidding(2) you're singing a love song.

Getting in to it, you kind of forgot that you were in your classroom and not in your room. So the moment you heard Bokuto's energetic scream, you felt your soul try to astral project.

"Y/N! You actually play the guitar?!" Bokuto screamed as he ran towards you.

"Yes, Ko-"

"PLAY A SONG!"

"But, Ko-".

"PLAY THIS SONG! PLAY THIS SONG!"

In the end, you couldn't help but to give in, especially with how persistent Bokuto is. You started playing the chords of a familiar song.

"Sa 'yo lang ako babayo" HAHAHAHA JOKE LANG. AKOLANGBANANDIDIRISAKANTANGTO?

You couldn't see it but Bokuto is in awe with how beautiful you sang and how good you were at playing your guitar.

He falls silent as he takes the empty chair beside yours, scooting as close as he could next to you so he can hear your voice clearer.

"Ko?" You asked him when you stopped playing and yet his wide eyes are still staring at you.

The heaven knows how Bokuto was so close to switching to his emo mode when you no longer sang. But in the end, he thought of an InCrEdIbLe idea:

"Y/N, I think you should be the one playing at our wedding." 👁️👄👁️

Now this makes you laugh as you blush with his sudden suggestion.

He insists you sing another song but you reprimanded by saying you two haven't eaten your lunches yet. He had his arguments set but in the end you won.

Or so you thought. Because the moment you two started eating, he didn't stop asking you questions about this new discovery of his.

"When did you start playing and singing?" "Who taught you to sing and play?" "Do you love it?" "Do you have fun?"

"Why do you have the voice of an angel?"

Even when you two headed out of your room to buy yourselves some drinks, he still was asking you and giving you ridiculously cute ridiculous ideas.

"You should play during our matches next time!"

"But, Ko, that would be in the gym and it would be too loud for you to hear."

"I'll make the crowd stop cheering for me!"

Tsukishima Kei

This salty boy is a bully. Periodt.

So when he went to your place upon receiving your text and caught you strumming your guitar, instead of expressing his shock, he'd mock you instead.

"Eh? You know how to play that?"

You abruptly look at your doorstep only to see Tsukishima leaning lazily on the frame, his arms crossed.

You stopped from strumming and you placed your guitar on your side.

Now Tsukki scrunches his nose, "Why stop? Afraid to show me how bad you are?" He teases.

It's one of his strategic ways of making you do it without him having to confess that he wanted to hear more.

You rolled your eyes as you took your guitar again, willing to prove Tsukki's wordsare wrong. You strummed your guitar and started singing:

"Inisip ko kung bakit ganito ang langit, nilayo ako sa 'yo" (JEJEMON DAYS UGH) JOKE THAT'S NOT WHAT YOU'RE SINGING. YOU'RE PROLLY SINGING AN INDIE SONG OR WHAT.

Immersing yourself on your guitar as you sing, you didn't even notice how Tsukki is already on the floor, his legs crossed, head lazily leaning on his palms as he tries to look unimpressed.

He wanted to take a video so bad but he's already made an impression that he hates it and he's not letting his pride go down so he enjoys you perform instead, casually wobbling your head with the beat, finding your voice perfect with the song.

He was so into your voice he didn't even notice you already stopped, with a teasing grin in your lips as you look down on him.

Tsukki: 👁️👄👁️ (I'm sorry for excessively using this emoji I just love it, it's such a mood)

"So? How was it?" You asked.

Tsukki looks away, hiding his blushing ears, "Fine. Fine for a beginner." He said that sarcastically but you knew better.

You were about to get rid of your guitar for real this time when he stopped you.

"Play..." He said, barely audible.

"Huh?" You.

"Play it one more time," he says, fishing for his phone, "I want to record it."

You blushed. Tsukki must've noticed how you got flustered with his words 'cause he has casts this offending look in his face again.

"I'll...record how bad you are, dummy."

261 notes · View notes

kookiesjoonies · 4 years

Text

rule breaker — jhs | part ten.

rule breaker | part ten: ramen & froyo.

a/n: this chapter is quite a few days late, but i literally had the worst case of writer’s block of my LIFE. i started this chapter, n then completely scrapped it. and i’m glad i did, bc the first draft was SHIT. LMAO. anyway, come talk to me abt hoseok n yn please. i want to hear your thoughts. especiallyyyy after this chapter! thank u all for reading! xo

main pairing: choreographer!hoseok x idol!reader

side ships: vmin, namkook

word count: 5.1k

warnings: fluff, angst, wet dream (dunno if that qualifies as a warning, but uhhh just in case lmaodskjd), masturbation, squirting

— SERIES SUMMARY

your career as an idol comes first, end of discussion. and to make sure that you stay on track, you implement two foolproof rules to abide by:

rule #1: no distractions. rule #2: no mixing business with pleasure.

and those rules seem simple enough to follow. that is, until you develop a crush on your new choreographer.

Dance practice was over and you felt like you’d just run a marathon. No, wait, scratch that. You felt like you’d run five marathons. Dancing with Hoseok was no joke. He always pushed you to work harder, to do better. And any time you were convinced you couldn’t perfect a move, he’d encourage you and offer you a thousand reasons as to why you could.

Both of you were drenched in sweat. Your grey crop top soaked and dark in certain areas, perhaps revealing a bit too much of what was underneath. Hoseok’s hair was sticky and wet against his forehead, and he’d pushed it back since practice ended.

You’d have been stupid to ignore just how attractive such a simple gesture made him look. Still, you tried your hardest to push such thoughts out of your mind. You shouldn’t be thinking of him in such a way. But you blamed it on the sensual dance routine that you’d just completed with him.

Jimin was just supposed to be late to practice, but he ended up having to skip it all together. Which meant that every single sexy move you were supposed to do with your best friend, you’d done with Hoseok instead.

At first, it was awkward. You didn’t know where to put your hands, and he was hesitant to put his on your body as well. Eventually though, the two of you relaxed into one another. The feeling of his fingertips on the bare skin of your hips was exhilarating, as well as the feeling of his length being pressed against your ass while you pushed back against him.

The way that he watched you in the mirror, the way way his pupils had clearly dilated, sent immediate relief washing over you. You weren’t the only one affected by the routine the two of you were performing. But at the end of the day, it was just that. A performance.

And that’s what you’d keep telling yourself, even if deep down, you didn’t believe it even for a second.

“Well, I don’t know about you,” Hoseok began, lifting the bottom of his muscle tank top up to his face to wipe the beads of sweat trickling down, “but I worked up quite the appetite.”

Your eyes shot down to admire his perfectly sculpted abs that were practically begging for your touch, your tongue poking out to wet your lips at the delicious sight.

“Y/n?” Hoseok was speaking again, this time albeit a little louder, which snapped you out of your trance.

Embarrassed, your neck straightened up so that you could now look at the man towering above you face to face. And you willed your cheeks not to turn red, hoping and praying that he didn’t catch you checking him out.

“Huh?” That was all you could muster up, unsure of what he’d even said to begin with.

To your surprise, he offered you a chuckle in response.

“I said I was hungry. You want to go grab lunch?”

The two of you’d never hung out outside of the studio before, so you were a little taken aback by his suggestion.

He could sense your hesitation, and he stuttered as he tried to play it off nonchalantly.

“Or, uhm— we don’t—, we don’t have to. I just figured—“

You cut him off, a small smile creeping it’s way onto your face. He really was adorable when he rambled.

“Hobi, we can get lunch. I just wish I didn’t have to go out in public looking so gross.” You were half joking, half serious.

Your hair felt greasy, you weren’t wearing any makeup, and your athletic clothes were sweaty and sticky. So, you were definitely not fit to be seen in public at the moment.

“You don’t look gross.” Hoseok was quick to reassure you, matching your smile with a wide one of his own.

“No?” You asked, wanting him to compliment you one more time. Even though, you weren’t sure why you wanted him to do so so badly.

“Nope!” he shook his head, “you look like you’ve been working hard.”

You internally groaned. Not exactly the kind of compliment you were hoping for, but it would do, you supposed.

“In that case, did you have a place in mind for lunch? Or..?”

“There’s this place down the street that has the best cooked ramen!” you found it adorable, the way he was so enthusiastic even while talking about food, “Is that okay? I mean— do, uhm— do you like ramen?”

A tiny giggle left your mouth before you could stop it, and you offered him a quick nod of your head.

“I love ramen.”

“Great!” he grinned, “let’s go then!”

Turns out, Hoseok was right. This place did have the best ramen. You were sure you could slurp up at least ten bowls of it.

Your choreographer was sitting across from you at the small round table. The place was quaint, small, and yet surprisingly busy. Various K-Pop songs boomed through the speakers overhead, and the hustle and bustle of the restaurant workers never seemed to cease. The sound of the other diners mumbling bounced off of the walls, and the aroma of the foods being cooked in the kitchen were to die for.

“So,” Hoseok spoke up after practically inhaling a few bites of his ramen, “do you like the place?”

You didn’t hesitate in answering, “Yes! I can’t believe it’s been so close to the studio for so long and I never knew about it.”

“You’re welcome.” He winked at you, a playful gesture that for some reason, had your heart doing flips in your chest.

You gathered a small bunch of noodles with your chopsticks, bringing them up to shove the food into your mouth.

“Aren’t you nervous people will recognize you?” Hoseok questioned, taking a sip of the soda that was sitting beside of his bowl.

You shrugged, chewing and swallowing the bite you’d just taken before answering him.

“It’s just part of the gig, you know?”

“No,” he admitted, “I don’t know. How do you do it? How do you deal with people constantly invading your privacy?”

“It’s not easy,” you answered honestly, “but I’ve been doing it for almost six years now, so. I’d like to think I’ve gotten used to it.”

“You handle it well. The way you carry yourself, even with all of the pressure you’re under, it’s admirable. And the fact that you’re so— so kind, so down to earth, even with the millions of fans you have.. it’s amazing, really.”

His series of seemingly never ending compliments were successful in creating flutters in your stomach. You were sure your cheeks and the tips of your ears were tinted pink, and your spine tingled as you happily took in every single one of his words.

“Hobi,” you couldn’t hide the grin that was now plastered across your face, “you’re too sweet.”

This time, it was Hoseok’s turn to blush. You’d said something so simple, yet it had the apples of his cheeks tinged red. He’d hoped you hadn’t noticed. But you did, which only made you want to continue your compliments further. If it meant seeing him like that, all flustered and shy, you’d compliment him twenty four hours, seven days a week.

Even if, technically, you shouldn’t be trying to make him blush. But at that exact moment, you couldn’t be bothered to give a single fuck.

“I mean it,” you continued, swirling the few remaining noodles around in the bowl below you, “you’re so kind to me, always. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.”

He glanced away from you then, turning his attention to watch the waiters walk in and out of the kitchen. You didn’t miss the dark shade of red that had taken over his entire face. And yeah, you found it undeniably adorable.

Before you could say anything else to him, a familiar sounding song blared from the sound system above you. You couldn’t help but to laugh, shaking your head as you listened to the low beat of take me.

Hoseok faced you again, a smirk present as his ears perked up to listen.

“Hey, that sounds kind of familiar.”

“Never heard this song before in my life.”

You kept a straight face, for the most part. But Hoseok didn’t miss the glimmer of playfulness in your eyes.

“Ahh,” he decided to play along, finishing up the last few bites of his meal, “a shame you haven’t heard it. The artist who sings it, she’s truly something special. Insanely talented, an incredible dancer.”

“Maybe she’s just an ‘incredible dancer’ because she has such a good teacher.”

“Nope!” he was quick to shut you down, “she’s talented because she’s hardworking and she never settles for anything but the best.”

If you didn’t know better, you could’ve sworn he was flirting with you. And maybe he was. Or, maybe you just wanted him to be? But then, why did you want him to be? Your brain was scrambled, too many thoughts running a million miles a minute.

The sound of footsteps approaching your table pulled you out of your own head, and standing before you was a tall, lean yet muscular man with dark hair. He had a freckle just under his bottom lip, which you were quick to note was quite cute. You assumed he was a fan, but as soon as he addressed the man sitting in front of you as Hobi, you quickly realized he was here for him and not you.

“Here’s that movie you wanted to borrow.” The younger boy handed a disk over to his friend, and you watched the exchange curiously.

“Ahhh! Thank you, Jungkookie! I’ve been wanting to see this for ages!” Hoseok quickly stuffed the film into his bag at his feet.

“Hmm,” you observed, tapping your manicured nails on the top of the table, “Jungkook, I presume?”

He seemed shock at the mention of his name. Or rather, at the sound of familiarity laced in your tone.

“Uhm, yeah..?” he cocked an eyebrow, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.

Your attention turned to Hoseok, and you pointed a finger at Jungkook.

“Is he the one who thinks I’m a diva?”

Hoseok had a mouthful of soda, and damn near did a spit take at your obvious call out.

“You told her?!” Jungkook slapped his hyung’s shoulder, and you watched as Hoseok soothed the abused spot with his hand.

“It just slipped!” The older male was quick to defend himself, and you couldn’t help but to laugh at the whole ordeal.

“Guys,” you said, “it’s fine! Jungkook, I’m sorry that you think I’m a diva. I’d like to think I’m not, but your own opinions can’t be helped.”

“She is not a diva, I promise. She’s anything but.”

You couldn’t help but to smile wide at the sound of Hoseok defending your name.

Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “Ahhh, I shouldn’t be so quick to judge, or to assume. I don’t even know you. I apologize.”

He bowed in front of you, and you waved him off.

“I promise, it’s fine,” you assured him, “I accept your apology. Any friend of Hoseok’s is a friend of mine.”

He sighed, relieved.

“In that case, could you get Jimin’s autograph for me? I’m like, his biggest fan.”

Hoseok groaned before bringing the palm of his hand up and dragging it down his face. You just laughed, nodding your head once in response.

“I’ll see what I can do. You should come by the studio with Hobi sometime, you’ll probably run into Jimin there.”

“Really?!” He lit up like a kid in a candy store, and it seemed as though his older friend had had enough.

“Okay!” Hoseok said, shooing Jungkook away from the table, “You’ve fulfilled your purpose of dropping off the movie. Thank you!”

“Awww, but hyung!” Jungkook pouted, “I was hoping I could join the two of you, and you know, tell her a secret of yours since you told her one of mine.”

You perked up in your seat, gaze shifting to Hoseok as you eyed him curiously.

“What secret?” You asked, hearing Jungkook snicker to your side.

“Ignore him.” Hoseok groaned.

“Alright, alright. I’ll leave,” Jungkook held his hands up in front of him in defeat, “but you should tell her, is all I’m saying.”

“Tell me what?” You asked, intrigued and confused all at the same time.

Hoseok shook his head.

“Nothing, he’s just an idiot,” he insisted, laughing the entire situation off, “we should uhm— grab froyo after this, if you’re not busy, I mean.”

“Ugh, the key to my heart.”

He smiled at your immediate acceptance, flagging your waiter down and digging in his pocket for his wallet.

You did the same, unzipping your purse to retrieve your credit card.

“No, no, Y/n. I got it! My treat.”

“Hoseok, I can’t let you—“

Before you could argue further, the waiter was walking away with Hoseok’s money. He was unbelievable.

He paid for froyo, too. Despite your arguing.

The two of you were walking along the river, enjoying your cups of frozen treats. It was spring, nearly summer, so the weather was just right. The sun was shining beautifully on the water beside you, not a cloud to be found in the sky. It truly was a beautiful day.

“It doesn’t shock me that your favorite color is yellow.” You started, dipping your spoon into your birthday cake flavored yogurt.

“Why not?” Hoseok retorted, bringing a spoonful of his own dessert up and to his lips.

“Because it’s a bright, happy color. And you are a bright, happy person.”

He flashed you that big, toothy grin that you’d grown to adore so much.

“Alright then, what’s your favorite color?”

“Red.” You answered without hesitation.

He shook his head, quiet laughter exuding from his throat.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” he insisted, “red just matches your personality perfectly.”

You cocked a brow, licking a bite of froyo from the spoon.

“How do you figure?”

“You’re full of fire, full of passion. A force to be reckoned with, you go head first into everything that you do and you don’t stop until you’ve achieved your goal.”

“You got all of that from the color red?”

“Mhm.” He just nodded at you, his smile never once faltering. Your damn heart was doing the flipping thing again and you feared it would leap right out of your chest if he looked at you like that for a second longer.

“Okay,” you said, dipping your spoon into the bowl, “you have to try this. It’s so good.”

You lifted the plastic utensil up to his mouth, and he only hesitated for a moment for allowing the sensation of birthday cake flavor to flood his taste buds. His eyes lit up, and his tone was enthusiastic.

“Mmm! That is good! I’m not usually a giant fan of cake flavored things, but I’d eat that.”

You fake gasped, bringing your free hand over your chest.

“How dare you! Birthday cake is the best flavor!”

“Pffft, no way!” he was quick to shut you down, gulping down another bite of his own treat, “brownie batter is. Here, you try.”

He was bringing his spoon up to your lips in an instant, and you poked your tongue out to give it a test lick. Usually, chocolate flavored ice cream wasn’t your favorite. But this was incredible.

“Aww, man! I like yours better!” You pouted, and Hoseok’s heart sank at the sight.

He knew you were being playful, but still, he couldn’t help himself.

“Here,” he held out his bowl to you, “we can trade.”

You shook your head, refusing the gesture, “I can’t take your food!”

“Yes you can! Please, for me. I want you to enjoy this.” His voice was kind, sincere. How could you say no to that?

“Only if you’re sure.” You said, hesitantly switching your bowl out for his.

“I’m sure.” He smiled at you again, and you felt like you’d been grounded down to the earth once and for all.

You didn’t make it home until the sun was about to set. Having too much fun with Hobi, you decided you could afford to stay out for a bit. He really was wonderful company, he seemed to make even the simplest of things fun. You’d hoped you’d get to hang out with him like that again in the future, the near future, to be exact. It was different than when the two of you were in the studio.

There, you were working. But today, you were out having lunch and enjoying spending casual time together. It felt like it went on forever, yet not nearly as long as you hoped it would last all at the same time.

However, you were happy to finally be in the comfort of your own home. Practice had kicked your ass today, and you were exhausted, grimy, and in desperate need of a shower and a nap.

Taehyung wasn’t home either, so you were home alone and excited by that fact. Very rarely did you ever have time to yourself and yourself alone. Except, you weren’t alone. And you didn’t know that until you walked into your master bedroom and saw Jimin sprawled out on your bed.

He nearly gave you a damn heart attack, had you shrieking like a banshee and clutching your chest.

“Jimin! What the fuck?!”

“It’s your fault for giving me a key.” He was flipping through a magazine, unfazed as ever.

“You could’ve texted me and told me you were coming over!” You scolded, and he just grinned.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“I hate you sometimes.”

“Liar.”

You walked further into your room as you rolled your eyes, picking up a pillow and tossing it forcefully at his head.

“Hey!” He whined.

“Why did you show up here unannounced?” You questioned, lying down beside of him on your king sized bed.

“Wanted to see how practice went.” He turned the page, and you peered over his shoulder to see what he was reading. Of course it was a fashion magazine.

“Fine.” You answered simply, and your best friend was shutting the catalog instantly.

“Damn, one syllable is all I get? Must’ve been better than I thought.” His smile was mischievous, and you had half a mind to smack it right off of his face.

“We danced. I learned the routine, and you did not. Which means you’ll have to work extra hard trying to catch up tomorrow.”

He rolled his eyes, knowing exactly what you were trying to do.

“Dude, shut up. You know I could learn it in my sleep, and you also know the ‘routine’ isn’t what I’m asking about.”

“Jimin,” you groaned, “don’t start.”

“Was it hot? Did you get off on grinding on Hoseok?” He wiggled his brows, and you flicked his nose with your thumb and middle finger.

“Ow!” He cried out, bringing a hand up to rub over the sore spot you’d just created.

“Don’t ask stupid shit like that.”

“Come on, Y/n. It’s me. You can talk to me about this shit.” He tried to convince you, and somewhere inside of you, you wanted to.

Because yeah, maybe you did get aroused from Hoseok’s hands on your ass. And maybe you did get a little wet when you were grinding against his thigh.

But who wouldn’t have? He was a fairly attractive man, after all. It didn’t mean anything. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

“I’m going to take a shower.” You quickly changed the subject, swinging your legs over the side of the bed.

Jimin couldn’t help but to roll his eyes.

“You’re so fucking stubborn.”

“I know. Are you spending the night?”

You heard him sigh, a sad sigh that made your heart clench.

“I would, but... I don’t want to make Tae uncomfortable.”

“I get it. But you’re welcome to stay, you know that. This house is plenty big enough, and we always hang out in my room anyways.”

“Yeah, I know. But I’ve already pissed him off, or whatever. I’m sure me staying here would just add to that.”

You frowned, wishing that you could do something, or say anything to ease his obvious hurt.

“I love you, Chim.”

“Love you.”

Normally, you’d stay up until at least midnight. Tonight, however, you were exceptionally exhausted and were lying in bed by nine.

Your satin sheets felt extra comfortable underneath you, and your eyelids were heavy. Friends played on the big, wall mounted television in front of you, and the sound of your air conditioner running was lulling you right to sleep. Before you knew it, you were slipping into a state of blissful unconsciousness.

You weren’t sure how you’d ended up in Hoseok’s apartment. And you definitely weren’t sure how you’d ended up nearly naked underneath him on his couch. You were squirming below his touch, his blunt fingernails lightly scraping down your stomach, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

His hips were rutting into yours, Hoseok’s hardened length rubbing along your soaked, clothed core. You were a moaning mess, slews of curses and praises spilled out of your mouth, letting him know that you were fucking loving everything that he was giving you.

“Hoseok, please don’t stop.” Your voice was quiet, barely above a whisper as you clutched onto his back in an attempt to keep yourself grounded. You felt like you were floating, like you were in a completely different time and place.

“God, I’ve waited so long for this,” he was growling lowly into your ear, his fingers descending south and flicking the thin strap of your thong against your hip, “waited so long for you.”

You yelped at the feeling of the string stinging your skin, your shriek turning into a whiny moan as you felt his hand begin to slip into your panties. You couldn’t wait for him to finally be where you needed him most. You didn’t care if his fingers were inside of you, his tongue, or his cock. You just needed some part of him filling you up. You needed it in the same way that you needed oxygen to survive, and you feared that you would die if he didn’t touch you right here, right now.

His head was hovering above yours now, and you were sure he was about to lean in for a kiss. Which had your pussy clenching around nothing. It had just occurred to you that you’d never kissed him, and all you wanted was to taste him. You were sure he’d taste delicious, sickeningly sweet.

Instead of his lips pressing against yours, though, they parted. And he began repeating your first name over and over again like a mantra, gradually getting louder and louder as the seconds ticked by.

One final yell of your name had your eyelids shooting open, the sound of Hoseok’s voice being replaced by the low tone of your brother’s. You blinked once, and then two more times for good measure. It took you a whole minute to realize that you were at home. In your bedroom, not in your choreographer’s apartment.

“Tae?” your voice was groggy, “what time is it?”

“Past ten. I could hear you from down the hall, it sounded like you were in pain so I came to check on you,” he said, cocking his head to the side as he stared down at you, “must’ve been one hell of a nightmare.”

Embarrassment immediately came over you, and you were thankful for the dark lighting of the room because you were sure your face was similar to the color of a tomato.

“Yeah— uh, just a... bad dream. I’m good.”

“If you’re sure.” His voice was laced with genuine concern, and you almost laughed. Such a protective older brother.

“I’m good, Tae. Swear.”

He nodded, mumbling a goodnight to you before turning to leave your bedroom.

You called out to him before he could shut the door.

“Hey, wait a second!”

“Yeah?” He was confused again, and you worried your lower lip before you spoke.

You weren’t usually one to meddle in his personal life, but this time, you felt like you had to. Or, that you at least had to try.

“You need to talk to Jimin. He thinks he made you upset, or mad. At the very least, you should tell him you aren’t angry with him.”

“Noted.”

That was all he said before he was shutting your door, and you couldn’t stop the dramatic roll of your eyes. Typical Taehyung.

You pushed your hair back and out of your face, grimacing as you felt the beads of sweat pooling on your forehead. In your half asleep state, you’d almost forgotten what you’d been dreaming about. You let out a groan as the images flashed through your memory.

Not only were you dreaming about Hoseok, but it was a wet dream. Surely, you hadn’t actually gotten aroused by it.

You bit down on your bottom lip before sliding your hand underneath your duvet, pressing your fingers against your underwear to test for any dampness. You gasped as you were greeted with soaked panties, hissing through your teeth as your fingertips barely grazed over your clit.

Before you really knew what you were doing, your hips were bucking up and into your hand. You pushed the cotton fabric to the side, letting your middle finger drag along your slick folds. You sighed at the feeling, your head tilting back as your eyes screwed shut. It was almost unbelievable how drenched you were just from a fucking dream. And a dream about your fucking choreographer, to beat it all.

You moaned at the images of Hoseok during practice earlier flooded your mind. He was so hot, and so sweaty. The way his fingers curled around your thighs had you wondering what it would feel like if he was the one touching you right now instead of yourself.

Maybe it was wrong, but you didn’t care. You kept yourself focused on Hoseok as you used your middle finger to circle around your throbbing bundle of nerves, whines and praises of his name slipping out of your mouth.

You dipped a finger down to tease your slit, imagining the entire time that it was him. You slipped a single digit into your heat and keened at the sensation. Hoseok’s fingers were much longer than yours, and you were sure he could have you cumming with them in no time.

Still, you decided to work with what you had and began to fuck into yourself until you were knuckle deep. You added a second finger and moaned at the stretch, your thighs beginning to shake already.

“Fuck, Hoseok!”

You picked up the pace of your fingers, curling once you found that spot that drove you absolutely mad. Using your free hand, you allowed your index and middle fingers to vigorously rub at your clit.

It was too much, too soon. Your walls contracted around your fingers, and your legs convulsed. Your thighs were trying to squeeze together and you were arching off the bed as you felt your lower stomach knot up, fire spreading from head to toe and making your toes curl.

Your orgasm hit so hard that you were practically screaming, Hoseok’s name being the only word left in your vocabulary. This was harder than any orgasm you’d had in a long time, and you could feel your juices squirting out and all over your hand and wrist. You squealed at the feeling, using your fingers to fuck yourself through your high.

Your breathing was erratic, and stars were circling above your head. You groaned as you pulled your hands away from your cunt, wincing at the emptiness.

An arm rested over your eyes as you attempted to stop panting. Slowly, you felt like you were back on earth again and the black dots you were seeing went away.

There was no fucking way that just happened. You did not get off while thinking of Hoseok.

You were furious. And you wished that you were mad at yourself, but the only reason you were angry was because you’d had to get yourself off. You wished it would’ve been him doing it instead.

Against your better judgement, you grabbed your phone off of your nightstand. It was eleven now, and although Hoseok was sure to be asleep, you needed to hear his voice. For what reason? You weren’t sure. Either way, you were scrolling through your contacts to find his name, pressing the call button with a bit too much enthusiasm.

When he answered the phone, his voice was raspy, deeper than usual. You were right, he’d been asleep.

“Hello?”

“Uhm, hi.” You said, voice shy and almost inaudible.

“Y/n? What time is it? Is everything okay?” He sounded worried.

“I’m okay! Uhh, it’s past eleven. I’m sorry for waking you, I didn’t mean to.”

Yes you did.

He was beginning to sound a bit more awake now, and you heard him yawn on the other line.

“It’s alright, I just wasn’t expecting you to call. Or, call this late.”

“Yeah..”

It was silent for a few seconds, neither of you knowing quite what to say. You couldn’t exactly tell him that you’d just made yourself squirt to the thought of him. And he wasn’t about to tell you that he was glad you called.

“What are you doing up?”

“Uhm—“ you stumbled, trying to come up with any excuse other than the truth, “I couldn’t sleep.”

You heard him chuckle, and it was as if all of your worries and nervousness evaporated at the sound of his laughter.

“Not that I’m not flattered, but.. why did you call me because you couldn’t sleep?”

You groaned internally. Why did he have to ask such questions?

“I just... I don’t know. I wanted to talk to you, is all, I guess.”

“Okay.” He seemed satisfied with your answer, and you sighed in relief.

“Hobi?”

“Hmm?”

“Will you FaceTime me until I fall asleep?”

As badly as you longed to see him in person, you figured that this would do for now.

“Absolutely.”

He was calling you instantly, and you smiled as soon as you laid eyes on him. His hair was disheveled from sleeping, and his cheeks were a bit puffy. Suddenly, the other side of your bed felt a bit too empty. And you wondered what it would feel like if he were laying beside of you.

↼ masterlist ⇀

a/n: if you’d like to be added to the tag list, just send me an ask, message, or reply to this post! let me know what you think of the series, i love hearing your feedback. enjoy! xo

tag list: @ppersonna @neouihobi @vanteatj1n @55west81st @jjiminah @cesthoney @vaehyungsworld @ggukiyo @devotedlywriting @consensual-trashtalk @w1tchcraftt @threedecadesofawkward @chocobetterknot @americano-sprite @yoongisabby @hobi-love @justpeachyjoon @excuseme-youpretty @sunkissed725 @amoreguk @koostime @cobbiebaexqueen @imluckybitches @taefect94 @parkmaeri @bts-7-forever @gukniverse @untainted-memories

a/n: tumblr won’t let me tag certain people for whatever reason. so if you’ve asked to be tagged and don’t see your name, that’s why! i apologize. :/

#hoseok #jung hoseok #hoseok smut #hoseok imagine #bts #bts smut #bangtan #hoseok x you #hoseok x reader #hoseok x y/n #bts imagine #hoseok angst #hoseok fluff #bts fake social media #bts texts #bts fake texts #bts smau #jhope #bts reactions

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