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incarnadinedreams · 11 months ago

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This isn't really new or anything but the more I reread random passages the more convinced I am that there's something very unique about the way Jiang Cheng reacts to Wen Ning and it's just so interesting!

I'm convinced it's more than just being angry. It's more than just hating him, or blaming him for Jin Zixuan's death or his sister's life. It's more than being a Wen, and it comes long before so many of those tragedies unfold anyway.

There's a sort of urgent, visceral reaction to Wen Ning's presence that just has this different feeling to it than how he reacts to any of the other characters. Even characters he has strong emotional responses to, it's never with the same panic or recklessness. It's not the same as the whole "vengeful wrath, fathomless hatred, or raving ecstasy" situation he's got going on with Wei Wuxian (sexy as that might be).

When it's Wei Wuxian, it's all "...well, well. So you're back?" and "Haven't you got anything to say to me?" Even when he's not being very nice, even when he's throwing teacups and furious at Wei Wuxian, there's still an edge of calmness in the way he lashes out. He's fucking mad but he's had more than a decade to think about this and he's got things to say and he's trying so hard to get a reaction from Wei Wuxian that he just won't give him.

But he can't tolerate having Wen Ning anywhere near him. Much of the time he instantly lashes out, physically, in ways to create space between them. He's mean to Wen Ning, but he doesn't really have much to say to him; he just wants to get away from him.

It really stuck out to me how instinctive and instantaneous and emotional that reaction is when I was reading this passage from chapter 81 (ExR translation since I've got it on hand in digital text form), when Jin Ling returns Zidian and rushes back into the fray during the Second Siege:

When Jiang Cheng was unaware, he stuffed Zidian's ring back into his hand and sprinted toward the crowd, all the way up to the most dangerous area before the mouth of the cave. Jiang Cheng was about to chase after him when he managed to slice a few corpses, staggering. He felt that Sandu was no lighter than hundreds of pounds. Two female corpses threw themselves at him from both directions.

Jiang Cheng cursed. As he lifted his sword again, another pair of hands tore the two corpses into pieces, "Sect Leader..."

Jiang Cheng lost his temper as soon as he heard the voice. He kicked Wen Ning away and cursed, "Get the fuck away from me!"

Obviously that is not very nice and poor Wen Ning didn't deserve a kick for being legitimately helpful there, but the point is that not only does he lash out - the reaction happens even when he's clearly got higher priorities going on in a chaotic situation. Throughout that entire event he reacts in a somewhat more even-keeled way to almost everything except Wen Ning being in his vicinity.

And it's not just after Wen Ning's death, not just after he became Wei Wuxian's greatest weapon, not just after he was forced to kill Jin Zixuan - it's specifically a pattern established from the moment he woke up in the Supervisory Office without a core:

Before he could say anything, those sun robes reflected against Jiang Cheng's eyes. His pupils suddenly shrunk.

Jiang Cheng kicked Wen Ning, toppling over the bowl of medicine. The black liquid all spilled onto Wen Ning. Wei WuXian wanted to take the bowl of medicine. He pulled up Wen Ning as well, who had been shocked speechless. Jiang Cheng roared at him, "What's wrong with you?!"

At this point he doesn't even know how he was rescued, since he was unconscious for all of that, and thinks they're in a Wen trap and likely going to die (or worse). But there's so many echoes of that interaction again, and again, and again between them.

And combined with Wen Ning's remarks during the scene just before this, where he tells Wei Wuxian about the discipline whip injuries and how Jiang Cheng 'should have other injuries as well', the way the narrative is so deliberately ambiguous on what exactly occurred, it all makes me want to crawl up the walls and gnaw on the light fixtures wailing WHAT DID YOU SEE, WEN NING?! WHAT DID YOU SEE?

At a minimum, Jiang Cheng knows that Wen Ning was there at Lotus Pier prior to his capture by the Wen guards, because they'd both seen Wen Ning examining Jiang corpses on the training field before they fled for Meishan.

But everything after that is only implication and subtext and suppositions and speculation, not directly stated in the text. But based on his reaction, you can pry my headcanon from my cold dead hands that that Wen Ning probably witnessed all or much of what happened to Jiang Cheng after he was captured, and Jiang Cheng knows it.

I've also posted before how I think there's an at least nonzero chance that Jiang Cheng was never directly told that Wen Ning wasn't actually there with Wen Chao when they saw him early on, but came later to try to help (because when Wen Ning gives Wei Wuxian that information Jiang Cheng isn't conscious, and nobody tells Jiang Cheng anything. I don't think that headcanon changes much either way, but there is a slight difference, at least emotionally, between 'I helped you while I was there to slaughter your clan and destroy your life' and 'I came when I heard my crazy cousin was slaughtering your clan and tried to help you' and I think it's a juicy thing to add to the pile of misunderstandings they each have of the other's motivations and actions).

Which, if I go with these two ideas together, really drives home what a bespoke and specific nightmare the way the Golden Core reveal played out - not only the substance of the reveal, but the fact it was Wen Ning who revealed it.

He was already furious that they were even there at Lotus Pier, particularly Wen Ning. But the way it all happens it feels like it's not just echoes of the amplified emotions of the confrontation with Lan Wangji & Wei Wuxian in the Ancestral Hall, it's not just Wen Ning being a Wen, or even Jin Zixuan's death, the way the narration calls out. It feels like there are deeper layers to it.

I also feel a bit stupid for not noticing before this probably extremely obvious to literally everyone else who isn't a dumbass like me parallel of Wen Ning getting a gruesome scorching whip mark across his chest at Lotus Pier in the course of saving Wei Wuxian (more or less, sort of - we know as readers Jiang Cheng was intentionally trying not to hurt them with Zidian, but I don't think Wen Ning knew that when he jumped in).

Jiang Cheng looked to find that the uninvited guest was Wen Ning. Immediately, he raged, "Who let you inside Lotus Pier?! How dare you!"

He could manage to tolerate others, but definitely not Wen Ning, the Wen-dog who put his hand through Jin ZiXuan's heart and ended both his sister's happiness and her life. Just a look, and he felt the urge to kill him right there. How dare he step foot on the earth of Lotus Pier—he really was looking for his death!

Because of the two lives and many other reasons, Wen Ning had always felt guilty, and so he'd always been somewhat scared of Jiang Cheng, consciously avoiding him all the time. Right now, however, he blocked Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi as he faced him, taking the hard lash. A gruesome scorch climbed across his chest, but still he didn't flinch.

I don't know that it actually means anything but it's making me FEEL THINGS incoherently at this specific moment, so. Also I find it legitimately sad that Wen Ning has to live with guilt over things that happened when he was controlled by someone else, though the scene before the Ancestral Hall when Jin Ling starts crying on the boat is probably a better example of that. Anyway.

It's just there's so, so many layers to how uniquely horrible it is for Jiang Cheng that he not only finds out about the Golden Core transfer this way, but also that Wen Ning, specifically, directly witnessed this life-shatteringly huge deception and sacrifice too - while Jiang Cheng was unconscious, no less.

And, well, we know how everything got capped off in that scene...

Obviously the shock of the information was going to get a huge reaction no matter what, no matter who or how he found out. Even without the Wen Ning element, it already hits every one of his deepest weaknesses and insecurities and fears.

But to come from the guy who'd witnessed his family being slaughtered, who'd witnessed who-knows-what humiliations heaped on him (who also happens to be the same fucking guy that Wei Wuxian thought it was worth leaving Yunmeng Jiang for, breaking his promise for...), the guy he blames for his sister's tragic fate (whether that blame is misplaced or not), the guy he exhibits a panic response towards even decades later, and goddamn.

There are just so many layers to this perfect little nightmare reveal on so many different levels aren't there?

There's just SO much meaty stuff for these two to dig into post-canon and all we get is an extra with a 'oh yeah sometimes Jiang Cheng yells on night hunts and Wen Ning is there' about it?!

I should probably just shut up and go read some Jiang Cheng and Wen Ning focused fics or something (whether romantic or platonic that's probably an area I really haven't explored enough vs. the amount of sheer interesting hints and material the novel gives to work with! If by some miracle anyone made it to the end of this beast feel free to drop any recs that explore them, especially that 'what did Wen Ning see?!' aspect of the whole situation because that is the current little brain worm haunting me right now).

#thinking too much about jiang cheng yet again #and wen ning too #the brainrot is back in full force #warning: this is unnecessarily long and I'm not entirely sure I have a point other than gnawing on feelings over these two #and either I'm stupidly reading too much into things or this is all super obvious and I'm dumb for pointing it out #the unbearable self-consciousness that comes with rambling about characters in books I guess

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we-stan-cale · 9 months ago

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Since I've talked about almost all the other important parts during my reread, I didn't want to forget the sealed god's test.

It's just... So good I'm not even sure where to start. Like, this is a moment where Cale really shines.

Cale. Rok Soo, which we're told means 'to always grow green, even in winter'.

And we see that in this test.

The sealed god throws him into one of the worst moments of his life, expressly to make him despair.

Instead, Cale takes that moment and uses it to rewrite the past, and erase all his regrets.

This is where we really get to see what post-apocalyptic Korea was like. And over and over again we learn how badly things went then, even as Cale makes sure it doesn't happen like that again.

We also see some of his years of experience, and maturity. Especially with how he handles Park Jin Tae, who was a bully and a tyrant - and also died in Cale's first life, fighting to save everyone in the shelter.

You can see what we've seen all along. Cale doesn't judge leaders by the petty stuff. He judges them on how well they take care of their people.

This is also where Cale, Choi Han, and Alberu really become an amazing trio.

Choi Han, who bargains a large chunk of his life away (just the time he'd be alone, as he ties the length of his life to Raons) in order to join Cale in his test.

And Alberu, who the Sun God helps possess a monster called the Dark Tiger when his real body is sleeping.

Those three are so tight knit now, it's beautiful. Real ride or die friends.

Especially when you remember where they all started.

It's also, as always, a time where you have to pay attention to the subtleties. This is Cale's past, and he's focused on making sure everyone survives... But Choi Han and especially Alberu can see the desperation, the struggle, and the near starvation of all the survivors. Alberu has a couple of moments when he's out of the test and giving updates to their friends, and you see him struggling. Because Cale asked him not to overly stress them (the kids especially) and basically say it's fine... And Alberu's like 'how can I tell them that?!?'

And then, naturally, there's Choi Jung Soo and Lee Soo Hyuk.

Younger versions, and not the ones Cale knew. But still, we get to learn more about his earlier found family.

We also see things going on back at home. Since his physical body is still there, his friends have to rescue him.

And we see how they're able to perform, even without Cale to call the shots.

We especially see how well Raon has grown, as he makes important decisions on how to find the monster statues.

Even more importantly, we have this at the end.

– Do you really think that this moment is the end of despair? Cale looked down at the rose gold lights burning in his hands. He opened his mouth to speak. ‘Is this moment the end of despair? No. Absolutely not.’ “This is just the beginning of the despair in this world.” It was just the beginning. Despair would reveal itself in many different forms in this world from now on. “But people have hope now.” After about a year since the world had turned into a mess… The people who had always lost, struggled, and barely managed to survive will be victorious for the first time. They would destroy this despair known as an unranked monster. The sealed god who had been silent for a moment asked as if he was sneering at Cale. – Do you have hope as well? It seemed to be implying that Cale was someone who could not have hope. That was how it sounded to Cale. Cale slowly shook his head. “No.” He did not have hope. However… “I have certainty.” Cale needed something more certain than hope. Finally, he had gotten it. “This place will draw a different future than my past. I’m certain of it.” He was certain that more people would survive than in his past. He was certain that they would have better lives. That was not speculation. Although it was a future that was yet to come, Cale believed it to be the truth. In fact, Cale wanted to be the one to finish the first step toward that certainty. The burning rose gold thunderbolts moved away from Cale’s hands. He started to speak again. “This is the first time I’m saying this to a god.” Toward the silent sealed god… To the god who had tried to give him despair… Cale said the following. “Thanks.” He really meant it. “My memories didn’t end in despair thanks to you.”

It's not that he defeated despair. That despair will no longer exist.

But there's hope, and he is certain that the future will be better.

And even more so - he is grateful that he had this chance to change his memories.

He took this thing that was supposed to break him, and used it to fix himself instead.

#tcf #lcf #cale henituse #trash of the count's family #lout of the count’s family #sealed god's test #totcf

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wwilloww · 7 months ago

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sh. | chapter twenty two | pjm

PAIRING ot7 x reader RATING Explicit. 18+. GENRE smut. fluff. angst. nonidol au. wildnerness au. roommates au. friends to lovers. SUMMARY Six months of quarantine have kept you apart. Somehow the distance sparks something new in each of you: questions, unfinished conversations, threads once chased now left cold. So when your roommate invites you to come with him to a mysterious house in the mountains with your friends, how could you even think of saying no? WC 4.8k WARNINGS AND TAGS no use of gendered pronouns to refer to reader. consensual objectification. d/s dynamic. over the panty sex (is this just called dry humping?) fucktoy-ification? teasing. orgasm denial.

AN hi :) i'm so sorry i made you wait so long for this. it's been a rollercoaster these last two years, and i hope you can forgive me for my long absence. if you enjoyed this chapter, i'd love to hear from you: what stuck out to you, what you're hoping will happen in future chapters, or just how you've been. i've missed you. and, as always, thank you for reading <3

← || series m.list || →

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO: RULE BREAKER

You don’t talk or think much about your childhood. You like to imagine that when you turned eighteen those years whispered away into the ether of time, as irrelevant and dusty as the old photobook that stays on the shelf, eternally unopened.

As a child, home was multiplied and many. It was the many places you lived, as you moved often, following your father around with his job. But it was also many in the sense that you learned at a young age that home didn’t have to be a place you lived. Home was between the worn and finger-marred pages of the books you fell in love with, home was the wisping scent of fresh (if not often burnt) pastry in your grandmother’s kitchen each time you visited, home was the place you yearned to travel to but never made the time to visit.

But as you close the book in your hands, the words echo in your mind:

Are you going to come home?

You feel far away from home, even though you find a great deal of comfort in the walls of Namjoon’s mountain house. Ahem, mansion. Confusion riddles little holes of worry through you. Where is home, anyways? The small apartment you left empty in the city? The question opens a void in you. Why bother with home anyways? Sure, home could be anything if you tried hard enough, but couldn’t the opposite be true too? That if you tried hard enough, you wouldn’t need a home?

Still, void and all, the question nudges you.

Unsettled, you clamber down the tree and make your way back towards the house. The sun has risen higher in the sky and breaks through the chill ever so slightly. Worried that you’ve just abandoned Jimin this morning and that he’ll wake up alone, you quicken your pace. You creak the door open, waving at Jungkook and Jin and Taehyung in the kitchen, who are huddled over the coffee, waiting for it to finish brewing.

“A watched pot never boils,” you call out to them, noting that Jungkook looks a little cheerier than he had the past several days. Jin’s hand rests on Jungkook’s lower back and a little wave of joy jolts through you as the older man throws you a little smile.

“Watching it actually makes it go faster,” Jungkook says, his eyes glued to the coffee. “A little motivation and encouragement always lends a helping hand.”

You smile at that and continue making your way towards Jimin’s bedroom. You pass one room—a gym of sorts filled with a few cardio machines, a set of free weights, and a large mirror, and you’re surprised you didn’t notice it before—and pause.

Namjoon is spotting Hoseok as the latter bench presses what looks like an unreasonably heavy weight.

As you watch them, the dream from last night floods back to you.

The music filtering through the night. The tightness of each man’s grip on you as they spun you through the ballroom, the floorboards creaking beneath you, the high of attention sitting heady in your chest.

And too, you can’t forget, the way they stared at each other in single-minded competition, hackles raised, teeth gritted. You can’t forget the darkness that swirled at their feet, and you wonder too, if you’re letting your dream drift into the world of the living too.

But here they are, fondly smiling at one another. Had you made it all up? Well, of course you made it up. It was a regency-era dream for god's sake. But the tension? The competition? As Namjoon helps Hoseok lower the weights to the bar and hauls him to his feet, you’re sure it’s all in your head.

“Nice, man,” Namjoon says, grinning and clasping Hoseok on the back.

Before they see you, you continue on. Just as you’re about to open the door to the bedroom you’ve been searching for, it swings open before you. Jimin steps out.

“Oh. You’re awake!” you say.

“I am indeed.”

“I’m sorry I left this morning—“

“It’s okay,” he says, but there’s a tinge of sadness in his voice, a little dust mote of it that you catch.

“I went to go read in a tree,” you offer quickly as an explanation, hoping it will make up for the disappointment of waking up alone after not spending a night together in a while.

“In a tree?”

“In a tree,” you confirm.

He chuckles. “That seems like a good enough reason to abandon me. I gotta be honest though—“ He steps closer, lets his gaze flicker down, and toys with the hem of your shirt. “I was looking forward to waking up beside you.”

“Were you?” you smile.

“I was. I was even looking forward to potentially getting to wake you up.” He says it with a mischievous grin.

“Oh? And how would you have woken me up?”

His hand drifts lower, beneath the band of your leggings. “You know, it’s really easier to show you, rather than tell you—” His hands pause. “What’s this?” Jimin sends you a knowing look.

“What?” Your mind sputters as you struggle to come up with what he might be talking about. But he steps closer to you, a hand drifting down to your hips, a finger pulling your shirt up. With his other hand he plucks at the band of your panties.

“This,” he emphasizes.

“Oh.”

You’d nearly forgotten the promise you’d made to Jimin. But now it all comes rushing back, how he’d made you promise in those early days in the house to forgo any underwear. At the time it’d been a silly dare, but the seriousness in his eyes makes you reconsider.

“What? Do I have to remind you every day?” he says gently. “Or perhaps I haven’t been spending enough time around you, and you’ve forgotten your promise to me?”

“N-no,” you say. “I mean maybe. Maybe I want you around more.” You sidle up to him, running a finger up his chest. “Maybe… I want you to remind me.”

Jimin steps closer to you, pressing you against the bedroom door. You gasp when he leans in close, close enough to kiss you, but doesn’t.

“I think you forget too quickly that I told you there’d be a punishment if you ‘forgot’ about our little rule.”

“Oh?” You tilt your head as you look at him. “What kind of punishment?” Panties or not, it seems like you win.

“Like I mentioned earlier, I think I’d rather show you than explain it to you. Let’s just say I’m a hands-on kind of teacher.”

You think he’s going to kiss you, but instead he presses close, his lips a centimeter away from yours, his hands cupping your cheeks before wandering down to explore your body. You reach for him, struggle to bring his lips to yours, but he shifts his attention elsewhere, leaving you hanging. His hands rove over your body, his lips dip out of reach. So you change your plan of attack too. You let your hands wander over him. When you feel his breath quicken against you, you release him, dipping your head below his chin.

You glide your lips down Jimin’s neck, slow and intentional; a calculated move. You let your breath whisper against his skin, and you can’t help but think back to that night with Yoongi and Namjoon in which sensation—even the lightest of touches—had meant so much to you. To your body. You want to play Jimin like they played you.

His hands tighten in your shirt, knuckles whitening.

“Inside,” he gasps, and the desperation in his voice makes you think that he’s lost a bit of his fine-tuned control. His eyes are blown wide. He looks like he could eat you up. “Inside,” he repeats, but enacts the command himself as he pulls you through the door with him, making it sound a little more like a plea than you think he intends.

The pair of you tumble onto the bed, a mess of limbs and lips, teeth, hands.

He captures your lips, finally, kissing you. The kiss is anything but gentle, nearing the edge of pain, his teeth knocking against yours, nipping at your lips. You groan into his mouth as his hips cant against you.

It’s not long before he begins to tug at your clothes.

Then he pauses, lifting your head from his lips. You’re sprawled atop him and you lift yourself up on your hands.

“What?” you inquire curiously.

“I’m going to ask you to do something.”

“Alright.”

With a leveled gaze, he says, “Strip.”

He pushes you off of him, and you kneel at the foot of the bed, pausing a second, before making the executive decision to stand and undress. It’ll be more, well, graceful that way, you think. The alternative is flopping around on the sheets like a beached hammerhead shark trying to get your pants off.

So you do as you’re told. There’s something about undressing before him, as he leans back against the headboard, watching you. There’s something about undressing for him, while he watches on, his gaze drinking you in that has sparks running through your body.

Slowly, slowly you slip off your top, and wiggle your leggings off your legs. You try to make it a little sexy, glancing up at him from time to time, to find that warm darkness swirling in his gaze that you love so much. You trip once, because you’re staring too much.

“Keep the panties on,” he says when you go to pull them down.

“Oh. Okay.” Your brow furrows and you can’t help but let a little bit of the disappointment you’re feeling into your voice. You’re a little confused why he would ask you to keep them on when they were the problem that started all of this.

He stands then, walking towards you. You hold your breath. He finally arrives before you and places his hands on your hips. His fingers toy with the trim of the panties, and goosebumps race along your skin from the delicate touch.

“What are you going to do?” you ask, your voice breathy.

“You’ll see.”

With that he hooks a finger under the band of your underwear and lets it snap against your skin. You cry out, more in surprise than anything else.

“Did that hurt?”

“No, not really.”

“Good.�� He grins. “Now, I want you to be honest.”

“I’m always honest.” You correct yourself: “Most of the time. Most of the time I’m always honest.”

Jimin chuckles at that.

“Fair enough. But I need your most-of-the-time-always honesty now.” You nod, your hand drifting upward to grip his forearm.

“Of course.”

“I want to try something out with you. Something new.”

“New?”

“A new kind of play.”

Your mind reels with the possibilities. What could he possibly suggest? Chastity kink? Tittyfucking? Technojizz? Ballcuzzi?

“I want to use you like a toy,” he whispers. “I want to fuck you like a toy. I want to talk to you like a toy, treat you like one.” Your eyes widen when he says it. His eyes go wide too, drinking in your every microexpression, as he waits for you to respond.

“A toy?”

“Yes.”

“Where did this come from?” you say it with a little smile, and trace your finger along his jawline. He relaxes at the touch.

“I saw the way you reacted during group play. When Jin was talking to you, saying things like, ‘You want to be our slut. You want to be our whore.’” Just hearing Jimin repeating Jin’s words sends a shiver through your body. “He didn’t say it like I would have said it, but I knew he wanted to.” He presses his lips to your ear while his hands rove over your body. “You want to be our toy, don’t you?”

The answer is easy. “Yes.”

“You want to be used by us, don’t you?”

“Y-yes.”

He chuckles. “That’s what I thought. So tell me. Tell me what you want to be.”

“I want to be your toy.”

“Good.” He grins.

He lets his hand drift down to your underwear again, fingers trailing along the inside the elastic hem before plucking at them once more. He seems to like the way you flinch.

His fingers wander down your skin. He traces your hip, before flicking his fingers beneath the hem that circles your thigh. Slowly, he creeps closer to where you want his fingers most, but before he can touch you, he pulls his fingers away. You nearly groan, and a fleeting grimace crosses your face. Jimin catches it.

“Patience would look so pretty on you,” he says, and the sting of his words is delightful.

“Hmph.”

His fingers continue to explore the thin piece of fabric that separates you from total nudity. They’re not a particularly pretty pair of underwear: they’re nothing more than a tan color brief.

You say as much to Jimin, and tell him you wish you were wearing something sexier. Lace, maybe. Something black.

“True,” he replies. “But you know why I like these?”

“Why?”

“Because I can see you dripping through them.”

You warm at the implication.

“And when I push my cock against them, I’ll see me on them too. I’m a visual man, you know.” He kind of chuckles at that last bit, like it’s some sort of inside joke with himself.

When he drops to his knees, like that first day in the forest with him, you gasp. Finally, finally, he’s going to touch you.

But when his tongue presses against you through the fabric of your underwear, it’s only half the sensation you need from him. Still, it feels good, a gentle warmth spreading through your abdomen as he licks and presses against your clit and vulva.

“You taste so good,” he murmurs against you.

“I’m—“

“You’ve soaked your panties through.”

You warm at the thought, such little stimulation getting you so ready for him. You wonder if he’ll fuck you hard and fast or if he’ll take you sweet and slow. If he’ll take his time with you. Whatever he decides to do, you know you’ll be happy to have him fill you as you currently clench and tighten around nothing. It’s an empty feeling that sifts through you.

When he’s thoroughly soaked your underwear with his mouth, he stands and kisses you. You can taste the ghost of yourself on him, and it reminds you of the smell of first summer light hitting the ground at dawn. A space when it is neither day, nor night, but some third plane of existence. Like that, in this moment, you feel like some third kind of creature. Neither yourself entirely, nor Jimin, but some other, third thing that you could only become in his presence. You can feel the shit-eating grin that glides across his lips and presses into yours as he walks backwards, leading you back to the bed.

There’s something different, too, about all of this, about the way he kisses you today. There’s an edge of desperation, of frustration that you can taste on him. His movements are quicker, less languid. His lids are lidded. His breath comes quicker. It’s delightful.

But it’s also brand new. It feels like he has let a part of himself loose from under his usual state of control, and you wonder if your most recent conversation with your friends—where you discussed emotionality and feeling—had anything to do with what he was going through. What he wanted.

An edge of anxiety tickles at your throat as you think of it. Does he want something more?

He seems to notice your hesitation.

“I just want you right now,” he says, as if he’s read your mind. He stops you at the edge of the bed, turns you so that the back of your knees hit the mattress. You’re not sure if he’s a mind reader or what.

You fall back into the bed, Jimin leading you down gently with a hand against your back until you sink into the soft bedding. You can’t help but giggle at the gentleness. Not that you have anything against it, but in this moment you feel anything but a toy. The way he looks at you makes you feel, well, precious.

He breaks his gaze to kiss you again, tongue pressing against your lips.

“Open up for me,” he says. “Like a good kitten—Like a good toy.”

You do as you’ve been told, opening your mouth and letting him swirl his tongue through you, swiping at the roof of your mouth and sending tingles down your spine.

His hands drift down your body before slipping beneath your panties. You glow, so eager for his touch, groaning as his fingers swipe against your clit. Just once. But as if he’s just realized a mistake he’s made, he rapidly pulls his hand out.

“Oops. Got a little caught up.”

You pout. “What, you’re not going to touch me like that? There? At all?”

He pulls back enough to flick his gaze between your eyes and your lips. “Be a good toy and just do what you’re told.”

“Oh?” The bratty part of you flickers and rises up.

He silences you with a kiss, his fingers circling around your clothed entrance before trying to press in through the thin fabric of your underwear. It’s like he’s trying to finger fuck you through the wet cotton, pushing it into you with his fingers. The pressure surely is something, but it’s not even a hint of enough, and you find your hips bucking up against him, seeking more attention, seeking more pressure.

“So needy. So desperate.”

He continues until the yearn within you aches.

“Stop playing,” you gasp. “Just give me your cock. Want you. Want your cock. I’ll be your toy, just–just use me like one.”

“Don’t good toys say please?”

“Please, sir.”

He freezes above you.

“Sir?”

“I—I… It just slipped out!”

He grins. “I kinda like it.” He hums, as if contemplating it, then nods. “And since you’ve asked so nicely—“

Jimin leans back enough to begin unbuttoning his shirt. He takes his time, while the knot in your belly begins to recede. You sit up, eager to help him out of it, but he quickly swats your hands away.

“Patience, kitten.”

You don’t say it, but your crossed arms and pout say, “Fine, sir,” loud and clear. He laughs at your expression.

“Don’t you worry,” he says, tilting your chin up. “I’ve always taken care of you, haven’t I?”

He takes his cock out, stroking it once, twice, his hand gliding expertly over the soft and sensitive skin.

“I’m going to use you like you’re good for.”

“Like I’m good for?” You echo, desperate for him.

“All you’re good for,” he whispers in your ear and the words send a shiver of pleasure down your spine.

With one hand, he takes your ankles and pushes them over your head.

“Hold them.”

He then settles between your legs, hand wrapped tightly around his cock. With a movement that seems far too familiar to him, he slaps your pussy with his hard and dripping cock, and you groan. Fuck.

Lowering himself to you, so your thighs press into his shoulders, he finally aligns his cock with your clothed vulva.

And then with one careful movement, he grinds against you. The simple movement is enough to make you cry out.

“Fuck, Jimin.”

At first it’s slow, his cock pressing against your vulva in rhythmic pulses, your clit. At one point he pulls back and presses the head of his cock to your clothed entrance and presses in.

You whine against him, but he doesn’t acknowledge you. He simply returns to continuing his thrusts. You’re just as wet as he is hard, soaking your panties, his precome painting them too.

“Maybe I would have woken you up like this. Wouldn’t you have liked that? Waking up to my hard cock pressing against your clit, me ready to come, just from rutting against you? Wouldn’t that make you happy, to know how good you make me feel?”

You look down to where your bodies are pressed together. His cock rhythmically pokes up, the head dark and heavy. Sometimes though, the head of his cock gets stuck on your underwear, pushing the fabric higher and tighter around you. You groan at the sight.

“Don’t you love how good you make me feel?”

Your hips buck together, finding a desperate, shared rhythm. Your breath, too, matches up.

For a moment, your eyes lock. All you can think about is how damn pretty he looks when he fucks, his dark hair falling into his face, his cheeks flushed, his plush lower lip caught between his teeth. And he looks back.

But then his eyes flicker away from yours.

He fucks you over your panties, murmuring how good of a toy you are for him, how he wishes he could fuck you properly, fill you up.

“Please,” you gasp, desperate for more. “Fuck me.”

“When you behave,” he grunts. “I will.” Another thrust. “When you follow my rules, I will.”

When he comes, he presses the head of his cock to your clit. You can feel it twitching against you as he groans and sighs, his come painting your panties white.

With the head of his cock pressing so rhythmically against your clit, you’ve built up to a delicious pleasure, so close to coming.

“Jimin, Jimin, I’m so close. Please.” Your hips tilt up, searching out the pleasure he keeps denying you.

But Jimin just grins at you and sighs dramatically. His breath still comes a little quickly, he seems a little winded.

“If only you hadn’t been so intent on misbehaving earlier. Maybe I could have let you come.”

“Oh, come on,” you groan, about a second away from throwing your fists on the bed in proper tantrum form. “You’re in charge. You write the rules. Who said you can’t let me come?”

“The rules I wrote say so, actually.”

You huff.

“Well then. Maybe I’ll just have to take care of it myself.”

In a swift action, Jimin leans over you, pinning your hands above your head. Your breath leaves your lungs in a quick gasp.

“Wha—”

“I think you know you’re not even supposed to be thinking about that, let alone doing it.”

You tilt your head.

Jimin laughs, a hint of playful hardness in his voice. “Don’t you remember?” You shake your head. “You’re forgetting all of your promises today, aren’t you? Jin had you promise that you wouldn’t be coming unless it was because of one of us.”

Your eyes widen.

“Shit. I forgot.”

“I know you forgot.”

You throw your head back and groan. “But I thought you said you’d always take care of me.”

“I did. And I do. But sometimes it’s good for you to wait a little for your reward. Today you took your punishment—” He tilts your head up so you’re looking at him and the pout that had taken over your face fades a little. “And tomorrow, I’ll give you your reward.”

You roll your eyes.

“Fine.”

“You think you can do that? Wait until tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” You sigh.

“You’re so good for me,” he says, pressing a kiss to your lips. His hands glide down to your hips, dipping beneath the band and you think, oh, maybe he’ll do it now. But your hopes are quickly dashed when he tugs on them and says, “Maybe it was a good thing I had you wear these afterall.” He shimmies your come-stained underwear down your thighs. ��Easy cleanup.”

You can’t help but laugh at that, always surprised when Jimin’s practical side pops out alongside his gregariousness. But he balls the panties up, and before tossing them into the laundry basket near the door, holds them up in his hand, shaking them, as if directing attention to them.

“I should remind you why I asked you to do this?”

“I know why you asked me to. You liked the secret of it—?” You think back to what he had said to you, all those days ago, though it feels like a lifetime ago:

“I like walking around, knowing I’m the only one who has your sweetness on my tongue. I love talking to the others while getting to taste you still. Getting to remember the way you squirm underneath my touch. I do it because I want to.”

You still shiver, thinking of those words. But that had been before everyone knew about you and Jimin.

“I did like the secret of it,” Jimin says, breaking through your reverie. “But there’s more than that, too.”

You raise an eyebrow, prompting him to go on.

“There’s knowing you do it for me.”

He grins, before strutting to the bathroom. You watch his ass as he goes. Plump, you think. When he returns, he’s cleaned up and still grinning. Mulling on what he’s said—”for me”—an image of all eight of you on the living room floor arises. What are the boundaries between one person and another with this set up? What are the lines? What is owed? Your head spins, and you settle into the pillow. You’re still humming in the sensation of your dwindling pleasure, receding far away from your orgasm, and you sigh.

“If the only way people are going to punish one another around here is by giving them blue balls, I’m going to get tired reeeeal quick,” you murmur to yourself.

“Is that so?” Jimin says from behind you as he collects your clothes. “If that’s the case, we better start coming up with new forms of punishment.”

“Yes, maybe you should,” you say, mock-grouchily.

“I’ll start thinking up new and innovative ways. Maybe I’ll consult Jin—he seems creative when it comes to this stuff—especially if you’re going to be so quick to forget what you promised him.” He helps you into your clothes again, but remains naked himself.

“But—”

“No buts.” He seals your silence with a kiss. “Just do what you’re told.” The statement stings through you like a bolt of electricity. As much as you hate to admit it, you love when he tells you what to do. Even if you love fighting against it just as much. “You know why you should do what you’re told?” He continues, as he kisses down your throat.

“Why?”

“Because then I can reward you. I can make you come again and again until you’re crying to stop, or hold you at the edge long enough that when you’re finally ready to tip over, it’s the best fucking orgasm in your whole life.”

You can’t help but giggle. “Are you saying you’re the best fuck of my life?”

“No. Not yet. But I can be.” He pulls away from you enough to see the shit-eating grin on your face.

“I think some of your friends might fight you for that position.”

“Maybe they should.”

“Maybe they should what?” a voice comes from the door.

“Hoseok—”

Hoseok stands in the doorway, a confused look on his face. You imagine what he must be seeing, a naked Jimin in bed, and you, now entirely naked, too, now that Jimin stripped you of your panties, tangled up in each other.

“What’s going on here?” Hoseok asks.

“Do you really want to know?” Jimin asks.

“Um. Not really.” Then his gaze focuses on you. He lingers on your face, reading you, trying to figure you out. But then he catches himself. “Uh, maybe I should come back later.”

“No!” you say, perhaps a little too eagerly, sitting up. “What is it?”

“I just was looking for you,” Hoseok says, a little shyly. “I was hoping to steal you away.”

“Let me get dressed.”

You stand up, and pull your clothes back on, noting how Hoseok’s gaze flickers to you just in time to see you pull on your leggings without any panties on underneath.

Jimin sits up quickly, pulling a pillow over his crotch for the sake of Hoseok’s modesty. “Just so you know—if you’re going to go together—I already said that if someone was going to wear panties that someone wasn’t going to be able to come.” He turns to you. “So don’t you go running off to lover boy, thinking you can get your rocks off.” Jimin turns his attention back to Hobi. “This one is very much not allowed to come. At least for the rest of the day.”

Hoseok coughs.

“Oh, I, uh, I wasn’t, I wasn’t presuming.”

“Yes you were, asshole,” Jimin laughs. “We’re all presuming.”

Hoseok flushes red all the way to the tips of his ears at the implication, but you find it charming.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Hoseok says.

You glance at Jimin, who leans back with his hands laced behind his head. He looks like the perfect image of relaxation and… is that pride? There’s a soft smile curving at the corner of his lip, a kind of jesting smirk.

“Go on,” Jimin says. “I’m already taken care of.”

You roll your eyes.

“Asshole.”

But you stand and make your way to Hoseok nonetheless.

“You have time?” he asks.

“I have all the time in the world.”

← || series m.list || →

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crusty-chronicles · 1 year ago

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🎪Crusty's Masterlist of Madness🎪

A Masterlist of all my current works so things are easier to find. An 🔞 marker for any smut fics. Everything else is just fluff.

RULES FOR REQUESTING- please check this out before requesting. Thank you 😘

Airheaded S/O Headcannons: Just a bunch of head cannons of characters (mostly anime) who I feel would thrive with a very stupid, yet incredibly strong S/O

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*old* The Guide To An Idiot's Heart: A Viktor x airheaded s/o fic.

Hunter x Hunter

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🔞Smut Week: Smut oneshots everyday for a full week

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Multi chapter fics

Moon and Sun:(Platonic) Older reader goes soft after unexpectedly looking out for two boys. Whether it be troubled past or mutant ants, their promise to protect will never waiver.

🔞Forgiveness and Acceptance:

It's been a little over a year since the Chimera Ant Incident. A year since you'd made that fateful decision to run away during the fight with Pitou, leaving Kite behind in the process. A year of trying to cope with the aftermath. Blaming yourself for his death and subsequent resurrection, coming back as the very creature that had ended his life. Trying to navigate through your relationship with guilt weighing heavy on your shoulders. So much so that you'd do just about anything for him. Kite however, doesn't view your relationship through the same negative light you do.(Confirmed sequel to Moon and Sun.)

🔞Sandwiched Between:Getting a little too drunk, you and your friends start getting frisky. Unfortunately for you, you're sandwiched between a man who wants to ruin you and another who treats you like glass. PART 1 2

🔞Love Me Like I'm Your Last: A quickie with Kite leads to more than you expected. PART 1 2 3 4

One shots/Headcannons/Drabbles

🔞Med School Won't Pay for Itself: In which Leorio seeks a different means to make money for med school

Why MaS Reader Doesn't Get Along With Kurapika

🔞Kite with an S/O on Their Period

Kite As A Dad

Kurapika with a Phantom Troupe Hating S/O

HxH Men Throwing Down with their S/O's Plushies

Kurapika With An S/O Who Hunts Down Their Family

Kite and his S/O Get Into an Argument

Self-Doubts: It's a mystery how someone like you could have a partner who was seemingly perfect. It made you wonder just what exactly he saw in you. Though maybe you weren't the only one with these doubts.(Kite x Reader)

Touch: In which cuddling with Ging takes a soft turn

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Yu Yu Hakusho

Multi chapter fics

Not so Bad: The gang find a small, frazzled reader after being sent to stop a demon trafficking ring. Upon arriving to the location, they quickly realized everyone was dead, everyone except you. Reader is taken in and becomes attached to a particular demon with three eyes. PART 1 2

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One shots/Headcannons/Drabbles

Just Friends: In which our favorite fox realizes something while you tend to his wounds

Hiei Courting Headcannons: How our favorite three eyes demon courts Reader

Stubborn: In which our two favorite demons tend to and scold Reader for being careless during a fight.

Hands Off: What happens when someone tries to woo Hiei's very stupid S/O. What happens when they move in to kiss. Absolute madness is what.

Hiei with a Tall S/O

Reactions to Reader Being Hit On and Going to Them for Protection

Yu Yu Hakusho Men Receiving Flowers

Revelations: It's no secret Kurama's soft on you. But when his demon form finally sees the light after hundreds of years, the fact only further cements itself.

Jin With A Human Bookworm S/O

Hiei Bringing His Airheaded S/O To Demon World

Kurama With An S/O Who Loves Plants

Yu Yu Hakusho Men Reacting To Their S/O Singing

Hiei and Kurma Seeing Their S/O at the Dark Tournament

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mirageofadesert · 1 year ago

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Female Power Done Right: A closer look at Pian Ran from TTEOTM

The seductress: regulating sexual morality

Female characters have always been stereotyped in popular media. While this isn't limited to the portrayal of women, it has affected them disproportionately and usually in a negative way. There are a number of common stereotypes of how women are portrayed, such as the virtuous woman, the seductress/femme fatale, the Mary Sue and more. While I don't want to say that TTOETM doesn't rely on these kinds of stereotypes to tell its story, the show does get some things right when it comes to its female characters. Pian Ran is the best example of this.

Most temptress are villains, because female sexuality is often framed as something negative, something dangerous. Sexual morality serves to regulate gender relations, for example through various sexual taboos and prohibitions on premarital and extramarital sexuality or homosexuality. In the major religions and many cultures, sexuality is traditionally placed in the service of procreation. In the ascetic-monastic traditions of Hinduism, Buddhism and Christianity, which are characterized by sexual renunciation, sexuality is equated with ignorance, desire, attachment or sin and is considered an obstacle to salvation. As women are identified more strongly with physicality than men, sexuality and instinctually in all the religions mentioned, the widely received stereotype of the sexual seductress emerges, which has been used to justify a wide range of discrimination.

Therefore, seductresses are not about female sexuality, they are (through the male gaze) objects of sexual desire for men, while also being a negation point of sexual morality. Virtuous women, especially protagonists, are often sexualised, but not portrayed as sexual beings. In contrast, sexual women are often the competition of the main character. They tend to use their physical attractiveness to attack or steal the main character's love interest, or to overpower the hero with their evil tricks. For this reason, they are often associated with animals that are seen as deceitful, cunning, poisonous or dangerous (e.g. snakes, scorpions, foxes).

At the first glance, Pian Ran fits this archetype well. She is a fox demon, who feeds on the life energy of men. She seduces them, using their sexuality for her own gain and entertainment. Pian Ran also dresses "provocatively" and doesn't conform to social conventions. When we first meet her, she is playing the historical version of strip poker, not just for the money, but because the desperate men amuse her. In the same episode, she forces Ye Qingyu to accompany her to the market and uses her sensuality to throw him off balance.

However, Pianran also subverts this trope. Her sexuality isn't portrayed as something negative, it's accepted by the people around her. Ye Qingyu never judges her for it, even though he is the polar opposite. Ye Xiwu never looks down on her either, instead she comes to him for advice and even flirts with her.

Sun Zhenni's performance deserves a lot of praise. Her sexiness doesn't feel "sticky" or "creepy" to me, like many other characters of similar type do. She has a natural sensuality that isn't over the top, more sassy than naughty. You can tell that she studied her character a lot and tried to portray her as nuanced as possible.

Pian Ran is also much more than just another fox demon and seductress. She is a complex character. But her main theme isn't really seduction - it's working life.

Pian Ran vs. work life

This theme runs throughout the drama, from Li Susu offering her a letter of recommendation for a particular sect when they first meet, to Pianran's work for Tantai Jin - and her resentment of it.

She has to work to survive - literally, as Tantai Jin tricks her into believing she has swallowed a pill that will give him control over her life. "Take the pill", which will change your life and take away your freedom, is also a reminder of how certain drugs and their side effects work. While she's not without a certain amount of freedom and has her own command within the Jing Kingdom, she's tied to Tantai Jin's command and rigorous work schedule.

Our girl is a for sure a regular on r/antiwork...

This theme makes her a relatable and likeable character. It also shows how her character is a comment on current social issues, beyond gender roles. This is one of the strengths of TTOETM, it’s strong social and moral message that goes beyond the plot of the drama.

Pian Ran vs. love life

As a character, Ye Qingyu is the opposite of Pian Ran: Virtuous, very righteous and rigid. But he never judges her for her behaviour, he always understands her and gives her space. And most importantly, neither of them changes who they are as their relationship progresses. She doesn't suddenly become a modest woman, he doesn't turn away from his ideals - except maybe in that cut arc in Jing Kingdom in the 3rd arc.

In many ways, Ye Qingyu and Pian Ran embody the classic trope of the seductive and virtuous hero: she affects men in a certain way that causes them to stray from the straight and narrow or interferes with their domestic arrangements. For example, when he spends the first night with her and thus neglects his duties as head of the family, or when she contributes to his changing sides and joining Tantai Jin. In short, she is disruptive.

When she advises Ye Xiwu/Li Susu on how to seduce Tantai Jin, she suggests various manipulation tactics to gain his attention and favour, but Pian Ran also gives genuine advice - to both of them, actually (although sometimes it's my accident).

One could make the argument, that they were aiming to frame her initial strong sexuality as a coping mechanism due to the loss of her husband and love threads. The absence of her love threads manifests quite different to Tantai Jin, mainly in form of attachment issues.

However, the show doesn't try to make a point about female sexuality by emphasizing a change in Pianran's behavior based on finding the right man. If anything, it's Ye Qingyue who meets her halfway by having a premarital affair. What I like most about their relationship is that they are each other's equals. They both have high ranks in Tantai Jin's kingdom and army, and he listens to their advice and treats them equally. Moreover, Pian Ran is never a damsel in distress. Even when Ye Qingyue dies for her, it is because she was blindsided by the attack while she was winning her own duel. In the end, she shares the fate of most seductresses who disrupt the social order - she dies (if they don't join a convent). The difference is that her death is a tragedy and not framed as a regulation of sexual morality and gender relations.

Female Friendship

Before I dive into the relationship of Li Susu and Pianran, I want to comment on the common dualism of the sensuous vs. the virtuous woman. Li Susu (or Ye Xiwu) is not the virtuous heroine, it’s (again) Ye Bingchang mirroring Pian Ran. This is something that subverts the whole trope! It's the virtuous woman who become disruptive and falls from grace, while Pianran becomes a righteous heroine. However, while Pianran doesn't become virtuous, Ye Bingchang tries and fails to use seduction to manipulate Tantai Jin. She also has an additional set of love threads that make her seductive to men without using her sensuality or sexuality. It's a fascinating dynamic. As I said, TTEOTM is not a perfect show with a feminist message, but it certainly tries to subvert gender stereotypes - and not just with its women, but that's another issue.

Pian Ran's third important role in TTOETM is that of Li Susu's friend, who supports and guides her. What makes their dynamic so interesting is that while Pian Ran looks younger than Li Susu, she is considerably older (well, if you count age by years lived, not by date of birth). They are flirtatious, they share a horse and a bed, and they pass the Bechtel test! Li Susu even risks her health to cure Pian Ran of Tantai Jin's blood curse.

Both subvert gender expectations in their own way. They are strong characters without abandoning their femininity. The empowerment and the feminist ideas, they are embodying, also come natural to the storyline and are not just tropes. Therefore, they are relatable characters for a modern audience (except when they are not).

Edit: Got rid of some spelling mistakes!

#till the end of the moon #cdrama #cdrama meta #tteotm #pian ran #tantai jin #sun zhenni #ye xiwu #bai lu

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terabyteturtle · 10 months ago

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Wife Headcanons (Jin, Lee, Lars, & Lei)

This ties in with the daughter request posted a while ago, so there are slight mentions of having a kid. This was requested by Tumblr user @kawaistrawberry21. Hope you enjoy!

Jin Kazama

He’ll definitely be around more often than he used to. With everything starting to settle down, Jin will finally have time to breathe and relax, taking time to do stuff he actually wants to do.

He’ll help you out with as much of the household stuff as he can. He’d hate for you to have to do everything by yourself, so expect him to offer you assistance at every opportunity.

Unfortunately, Jin doesn’t know how to cook, so you’ll have to help him out with that. He’s helped his mother in the past, but he’s forgotten most of his kitchen skills since she’d gone missing.

He does, however, know how to eat; you’ll have to cook a lot because this man has quite the appetite. Oh, and make sure you save some food for Hwoarang, too; chances are he’ll show up to family dinners uninvited.

He’s still as protective over you as ever. You becoming his wife never changed that.

Xiaoyu and Panda are your girl-besties. If you need advice on something, or you just want to vent, they’re your go-to gals. Girls’ nights out are ALWAYS spent with them.

Congratulations, because now Lee and Lars are your uncles-in-law, which is probably one of the most awesome things that could ever happen. Lee’s always offering to give you guys money, even though you and Jin are doing perfectly fine on your own, and Lars is a great babysitter for when you and Jin need to have a night out alone together.

Going for nature walks is something Jin is fond of doing, as it helps him calm down and clear his thoughts. However, he finds he enjoys it more when he’s with you. If he decides to take a trip to the nearby trail, you’re most likely going with him.

Chances are you’ll live somewhere secluded. Living in the city is undesirable for Jin, and he’d rather live peacefully in a place where no harm can come to his family. He was practically born and raised in nature, so ideally he’d want to live somewhere with a lot of foliage. When he sees the shady glade of a forest, or hears the water rushing down the brook, or feels the sun’s warmth on the back of his neck, Jin feels at home.

Jin will often share stories about his mother and his childhood. He even has a picture of himself when he was younger. For the longest time, he wanted to throw it away, but now he’s glad he kept it.

He waits for everyone else to fall asleep before he does. He already did that before without even realizing it, but now it’s just become a routine thing. Jin knows that he just can’t sleep unless everyone else is peacefully resting first.

Overall, you can tell he’s a much happier man when he’s with you, and now that he’s married and has a kid with you, Jin is just over the moon.

Lee Chaolan

There’ll be more lavish dinner dates than usual, which was already a lot to begin with.

Expect a bouquet of roses for every anniversary and Valentine’s Day. Not that he didn’t do this already, but again, you’ll receive more than you did before.

You’ll frequently have to attend business meetings and formal parties with him. Sometimes, the people there can be a little obnoxious, but hey, the food’s always really good. On top of that, you have the comfort of knowing that if anyone talks bad about you, they’re gonna have an angry Silver-Haired Demon to deal with.

Because you’ve been with Lee for a long time, you’ve already been introduced to most of his coworkers and staff members. Despite this fact, Lee can’t help but show you off to them, constantly telling them you’re his wife even though they know that already.

He always reminds you how excellent you are.

Just because you guys are married doesn’t mean that he still can’t sweep you off your feet. This man was and always will be a professional when it comes to charisma, and if you’re not careful, he could make you swoon or take your breath away in the blink of an eye.

Slow-dancing just because: “Hey Hachi, can you put on some music for me and my lovely wife?”

Speaking of which, he uses Hachi for a lot of things. It’s almost like you have an Alexa, but way funnier.

Lee will always fill you in on his latest projects and innovations. Sometimes, it’s something cool and you’re just as excited as he is. Other times, it’s very lame and you got to talk him out of making an investment he might regret later.

Like a prince, Lee will bend down and kiss the top of your hand before and after every night out. Once again, the man never ceases to exude charm.

Your daughter called him the Rizzler one time and he had no idea what that meant, so he decided to look it up. Needless to say, he lost a couple brain cells that day. (Sorry, this isn’t much of a headcanon, but I thought it was really funny.)

You’ll probably live in a smart home with some super advanced technology. It’s pretty cool, but sometimes you think it’s a little over-the-top. Like, do you really need a toilet that can talk to you? It's kinda creepy.

He’ll open up to you and only you about his traumatic childhood. It isn’t something he usually talks about with anyone, but he trusts you so much and wants you to know the truth about his experiences.

You know that portrait of the historical figure with his face plastered on it? He’s currently trying to make one of you, too.

Lars Alexandersson

He’ll also be around far more often than he used to be. With more people helping him out with Yggdrasil, Lars will be able to make more time for you.

Considering he’s seen war with his own two beautiful blue eyes, Lars finds comfort in doing mundane tasks. In other words, he’d literally do all of the cooking and cleaning if you wanted him to. He doesn’t mind at all.

This also applies to dates and anniversaries. Lars is a simple guy, so it doesn’t take much to please him. He doesn’t need anything extravagant to celebrate your time together; as long as he’s with you, he’s more than happy.

His cooking is absolutely amazing, by the way. Not even Ikea could beat Lars’ special Swedish meatballs.

Now that you’re officially married, he’ll share all of his secret family recipes with you. If you didn’t know how to cook crayfish already, you do now.

Lars finds that he can relate a lot more to his fellow soldiers who have families of their own. Before, he could sympathize with them and tried his best to see the situation through their eyes. Lars understood what they were going through, but there was something missing that kept him from completely seeing the full picture. Now that he’s experiencing the same thing himself, that missing piece has found its place in his heart, and he completely understands every intricate feeling that comes with the situation.

If he has to be away for a while, he’ll call you every morning and night. If he doesn’t have time to call, then he’ll send a quick text message with a red heart at the end.

Alisa will become a close friend, always there to help you out in times of need. She’s fun to be around, and the two of you enjoy spending time together if Lars is away or if you just want some time away from home. You often find yourselves spending time inside the local cafe, talking about whatever comes to mind and watching the people go by.

Lars loves to read! Thrillers, fantasies, science-fiction—he’ll read it all! When he’s away, he doesn’t get much time to do it, and when he does, he doesn’t have easy access to much of anything, considering the base doesn’t have a library. To fix this, he’ll call you and ask if you could read a chapter or two of whatever he’s currently reading. If your daughter wants to join in too, that’s fine by him. Not only does he get to keep up with his book, but he also gets an excuse to hear your lovely voices.

On the subject of books, you have a giant library at home, complete with its own sliding ladder to reach stuff.

You’ll end up having a lot of deep conversations, especially during breakfast for whatever reason. Lars usually likes discussing his books, and often that leads into a conversation about deeper, larger thematic concepts. Since you often read to him, he’ll ask you about your thoughts on certain events, characters, etc. You might be treated to some historical facts as well. This might sound boring to some, but Lars has such a way with words that he makes it all sound really intriguing.

Goodnight kisses every night. Even when he’s away, Lars will kiss you through the phone. That goes for your daughter, too.

Lei Wulong

He honestly can’t believe that he’s made it to this stage. Every time he looks down at the ring, he can’t help but smile.

Unfortunately, his work schedule doesn’t change after you become his wife. If anything, he might take on more shifts just to give the two of you more financial support. Lei wants nothing but the best for you, and he wants to contribute as much as he can to keep a roof over your heads.

It’s not that he believes you can’t hold up your end. It’s that he wants to give you as stress-free of a life as possible. Lei will do anything for you, and he’d hate to see you upset in any way, especially if it’s because of something detrimental to your wellbeing.

For a while, it’s going to take a lot of convincing to get Lei to sit back and chill out. He needs to be reminded that marriage is a partnership and that he doesn’t need to overwork himself. You don’t mind working, and you want to make life easier for him as well. You hate seeing him so tired every time he comes home from a grueling shift, and it pains you not to see him very often.

Once he starts cooling down, Lei will spend far more time with you. Unless he’s working on a gripping case, he’s always helping around the house, taking care of the kid, and basically trying to make up for lost time.

When he’s out on the job, he’ll text you every so often to let you know that he’s okay. The only time he won’t do this is when he has to work overnights. He doesn’t want to risk disturbing you while you’re sleeping.

Little does he know, you’re not sleeping at all while he’s not there. Lei doesn’t take overnight shifts nearly as much as he used to, but on the rare occasions he does, it’s very difficult to sleep without him. Since he doesn’t text you at night, you’re often wrought with anxiety until he comes back in the morning.

He feels horrible about stressing you out like that and gives you tons of kisses in the morning to show you he’s sorry. Y’all might even make love if you’re down for it.

This man can not cook. Before you met him, he somehow made a living off of Cup-O-Noodles and donuts for years. You still don’t know how he managed to scrape by without any major health problems, but you’re grateful it hasn’t happened. To this day, the only thing he knows how to make is instant packaged ramen.

Despite being married for a while, it still amazes you that your lighthearted, laid-back husband can get so serious. Looking at pictures from his younger years, you can’t believe it’s the same guy. It’s insanely attractive.

Family dinners are never silent with Lei around. He could keep an entire conversation going all by himself.

Movie night is almost every night, and more often than not, Lei will end up falling asleep with his head on your shoulder.

He gets super anxious whenever he sees a head of silvery-white hair. The possibility of Bryan Fury showing up anywhere near you scares him to death.

#tekken #headcanons #jin kazama #jin kazama x reader #lee chaolan #lee chaolan x reader #lars alexandersson #lars alexandersson x reader #lei wulong #lei wulong x reader

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clubdionysus · 9 months ago

Text

[BAD DECISION #9] White

warnings: birdie time he he. honestly just very wholesome all round, but the embers are burningggg, they’re very wet! fantastic! (1) mention of Hang Sơn Đoòng (worlds biggest cave).

soundtrack: lemon - loco, hwasa; safety zone - j-hope

wc: 6k

bd total wc: 540k (on-going)

minors dni | AO3 | series masterlist

It's mid-morning the following Monday when Jeongguk's message lands in your inbox. The sky is free of clouds, sun beating down on the windows of the subway carriage you're in. It's above ground, crossing the river.

Summer is reaching the end of its peak, but monsoons are still a looming threat. There have been weather warnings all month, but today seems okay. You've an umbrella tucked into your tote just in case, legs crossed as you flick through your notifications on the subway.

Three unread messages sit pretty at the top of your inbox.

Jeongguk: Still on for today?

Danbi: u, me, ryan reynolds in lycra, tonight. game?

Seokjin: such a tease, you know i love those shorts on you - if memory serves me correctly they were off far more than they were on whenever you wore them ;) you around tonight?

Jeongguk is probably the only one who needs a reply, and yet you can't help but stare at Seokjin's message for a little longer than you should.

If Danbi knew you were texting him, she'd probably confiscate your phone, like your parents used to do during your teen years. Jeongguk would probably throw all your stupid little origami birds at you. Would hope you'd get a paper cut.

It'd be deserved, you think.

Jeongguk had wasted his entire Sunday on you as a result of Seokjin's carelessness. You didn't leave until Jimin had taken a nap on the couch at just gone six, your day full of mindless chatter and harmless distractions from Seokjin. It had been nice. Comforting.

And yet when you'd arrived home, a text had been waiting from Seokjin:

heyyy, sorry I had to rush off. didn't wanna wake you. you looked toooo cute. was so nice to see you again.

It's kind of embarrassing, the way your heart seemed to settle at the sight of it; like things were as they should be once more.

You told yourself that Seokjin hadn't meant to upset you. That it was all a big misunderstanding.

He said everything you wanted him to in that message. Said sorry. Maybe he didn't give you an excuse nor an explanation, but he did give you a compliment, and that had you giggling.

Had you thinking that maybe you'd been reactive, and were too highly strung. Perhaps he was never the issue. What if it was you?

Still, it's Jeongguk's message thread you tap through to instead - yeah, just on the subway now! we're still meeting there?

You contemplate whether or not you want to tell him that you've spoken to Seokjin later. He'll no doubt ask about him, with a sneer on his lips, nose upturned at the mere thought of him.

And so naturally, you know you'll lie. "No. Not heard from him."

It's not that you want to be dishonest. Not in the slightest.

You're no stranger to a white lie or two, but Jeongguk had scooped up all of your broken pieces in the early hours of yesterday morning, and tried to washi tape them back together - only for you to run straight back to the person holding a sledgehammer.

You don't want to be reckless with the care Jeongguk's afforded to you; it's just that while Jin's got a sledgehammer in one hand, it also looks like he's got super glue in the other. It's a little bit stronger than washi tape.

Especially Jeongguk's rolls of washi tape; which are the entire reason why you're spending your day off on the subway, and not tucked up in bed, instead.

Jeongguk had devised a plan following the fall of your origami bird, but had neglected to tell you exactly what that plan was.

Had said "look, I won't lie - I can't help you with this. Gimmie the evening to think of a plan, though? I'll text you later."

He'd texted you an address by the time you'd arrived home. Told you not to search it up; said he'd meet you there at midday. Kind of felt like a challenge, and you don't like losing - so you'd done as he'd said. Other than putting the address into Naver maps to find the route, you were none the wiser as to where you were headed.

The subway leads you to the outskirts of town. Down by the river, just a little further up from the arboretum you always tell yourself you should visit more often. You're local to the city, but it's so vast that there are still areas you aren't too familiar with. This is one of them. You know what's in the general area - the arboretum, an old water park, and some museums, but you've no idea what the exact address could be.

As you climb the stairs, you're regretful of the fact you actually listened to Jeongguk. Should have looked up the address beforehand. Seen what was about; what dress code would have been appropriate.

Denim shorts hug your curves, and a little white blouse sits prettily on your shoulders. You're making the most of the summer while it lasts; skin exposed, despite the judgement thrown your way by the ajummas you pass on the street.

A mirror selfie had been sent to Seokjin before you'd left the house, in reply to his collarbone-wielding, broad shoulder-baring bed selfie. His hair had been messy, and there was a little pink mark on his neck. You're pretty sure you left it there. Didn't wanna focus on it for too long just in case you realised that you... didn't.

There had been a little tactful positioning of your phone in front of your face when you took your photo. Had been covering your eyes. Hiding the glitter.

And it's funny, 'cause it's the first thing that Jeongguk notices when he spots you.

You're looking around, realising exactly where you are, a frown slowly forming. He'd expected nothing less. You always arrive with a small frown whenever he's around - but he also always manages to get you beaming, too. It's part of the charm that comes with being around Jeongguk. Bad moods dissolve into nothingness.

He smiles, just like he always does. Waves. Throws you not one, but two peace signs. His thin lips plumpen into a pout as he wiggles his shoulders, the ease of acting childishly coming naturally when he's around you.

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" He glows as if he hadn't seen you less than twenty-four hours ago.

Strolling towards you, he ignores the slight scowl that's resting on your neat brows. Just continues smiling. All doe-eyed and dainty. Hopes you won't be able to resist breaking into a smile, too.

He likes your glitter today. It's just in the corners of your eyes. Thinks you look like a fairy.

"I'm wearing white!" is all you can say, a little exasperation clouding your words, before laughter begins to tumble from your lips whether you want it to or not. "You asshole! You should have warned me!"

Jeongguk's wearing all black. A pair of shorts, a long sleeve swimming shirt and one of his many oversized black t-shirts over the top. See, he's dressed according to his plans - the plans that he neglected to share with you.

But he's a man. How much can you really expect from him? You doubt he's ever had to run home in the middle of a thunderstorm with his arms crossed over his chest to protect his modesty. Doubt his eyes have ever felt the unwelcome intrusion of sodden mascara running into them.

"Oh, chill out, Disco Ball," he banters, rolling his eyes as he twiddles his lip ring with his tongue. He comes to a stop in front of you. Pouts. Pushes his lips to the side, and his cheek slowly rises like a freshly baked loaf of bread. "It's only a little water. Worst comes to the worst, we'll just buy you another shirt."

When Jeongguk says it's only a 'little water,' he's telling a big fat lie.

You're both well aware that 'little' is hardly the appropriate word to use.

Not when you're standing next to the entrance of the largest outdoor waterpark in the city.

You don't want to say definitively, but you think it might be the largest waterpark in the entire district. Biggest you've ever been to, that's for sure, not that you really make a habit of it.

"Look," he says. "You're the one who wrote the bird, not me. Blame yourself."

"And you're the one who didn't give me a dress code," you reply with a small scoff. He's unbelievable.

It's not like he was ever supposed to see your birds. Your intention had only ever been for the pair of you to vent out your frustration; to see them in black and white and maybe colour them in.

"You could have just looked at Naver. Seen where you were going."

"You told me not to!"

Jeongguk smirks to himself, a little pleased with how much you seem to have blindly trusted him. He also thinks it's incredibly foolish, and adds it to his list of things he needs to worry about in the future. While it's him that you're mindlessly following the orders of, it's okay, he supposes. Knows you're safe. Nothing to worry about right now.

"You'll be fine, Byeol," he says, hooking an arm around your neck, rubbing his knuckles against the crown of your head. You don't even bother to scramble away, sensing his grip tighten when your back edges out from his grasp. With arms like his, you're ensnared whether you like it or not. "You bring your bird?"

He keeps his arm locked around your neck, resting on your shoulders, but stands a little straighter as you head in direction of the waterpark. His relaxed posture allows you to rummage around in your tote bag for the small piece of folded paper. It's in the bottom, a little crumpled, but still quite clearly in bird form.

Jeongguk pinches it from you as soon as you retrieve it, not seeming to care much for the fact that it's your bird. You're locked in by his arms as he strengthens some of the creases that have fallen lax thanks to the lack of attention you'd been paying when you tossed it into the bag.

"You're gonna give yourself bad bird luck," he tells you. "Gotta preserve them, Byeol, or otherwise you'll never overcome your fears."

"I'm not really sure we'll be overcoming any fears today," you mutter in response.

He takes great offence to this. Tells you to 'stop being a negative Nancy', and that 'you'll never overcome your fears with an attitude like that'. You pinch him through his shirt. He recoils away from you, finally giving you a little room to breathe.

And then he calls you a goblin.

"That's rich," you snort, peering into your bag once again to get your wallet, shooing his hands away as he brings out his own wallet from his shorts pocket. "Nah, this is on me. My fear. I'll pay."

There's an attempt from him to protest, but you just tell the cashier you're paying for two, and there's very little he can do about it. He feels bad. This is, after all, his idea. He gave you no wiggle room. You wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for him.

A bathroom? Maybe.

But not here.

"Absolutely not," you had exclaimed yesterday afternoon after reading the bird. Jeongguk couldn't stop laughing. "Stop! You'll give me a complex."

He hadn't meant to find it so funny - he was just taken by surprise. It's a reflex.

"No, no," he cooed. "It's cute. Really sweet, actually. Should have told me last night. Could have actually done something about it."

It was at that point that you flicked him on the forehead. Told him to go touch some grass. Get his head out of his ass.

And then, finally, you told him, "You're never showering with me."

In typical Jeongguk fashion, he'd just smirked. Found your defensiveness funny. "And nor is anyone else, apparently."

The bird resting on Jeongguk's stomach was laying flat, open on your words:

SHOWER WITH SOMEONE ELSE.

He thinks it's the all caps that cracked him up so much. So aggressive. So cute. A bit like you.

Showers had been one of your favourite forms of intimacy during past relationships. You'd even found it fun with casual hookups.

But now?

Feels forbidden. Tarnished. Dirty.

It's almost as if someone else running their hands over your skin beneath the water will rid you of the stain that Seokjin left - and if you're not his, whose are you?

It's stupid because you don't belong to anyone but yourself. You'd spent months resenting the removal of your identity, but now that you have the chance to reclaim it, you're still letting his mark remain.

You had told Jeongguk later that afternoon - with absolute certainty - that he'd never be facing that fear with you, only for him to say, "it doesn't have to be that big of a deal. I'll prove it to you."

And now he's trying to do exactly that.

He leads as you follow and make your way into the park. It's been a fair few years since your last visit, but it always looks the same; paint work a little tatty, white watermarks tarnishing pipes, and slightly dated equipment available for hire. In fact, you think the inflatables sitting pretty and ready for renting might be the same ones you used as a child on family trips.

"Still don't understand how on earth this is supposed to help me with my fear of intimacy," you speak softly once Jeongguk is done telling you about the tallest waterslide in the world. It's in Brazil, and he insists that he doesn't understand why on earth they called it Kilimanjaro when it's not even remotely close in height nor geographical location.

You tell him he's pedantic and he smiles as if you've just given him a gold star.

"It's helping because we're making it less scary," Jeongguk states all very plainly. Seems simple to him. His logical mind leaps from A to B, while yours is still spiralling round and round like a hula-hoop. "What do you do in the shower?"

"When I'm with someone else?" You raise a brow. "Not sure I want to say it out loud in a kid's waterpark."

"Oh, ew, no, not that part. I mean the basics," he sighs, before choosing just to answer for you. "You get wet. That's the first hurdle."

"Gguk, that's barely even the first meter," you counter. "And after that? There's still a billion hurdles left to jump."

"Well, you have to start somewhere, don't you?" He nudges his shoulder against yours, before spotting the concessions store up ahead. "See. Told you you'd be able to buy a shirt. Here."

He hands you his wallet, only for you to pass it right back.

"It's good, I'll get it."

"I dragged you here."

"And I'm the one who made that stupid bird," you laugh. "It's fine. Tell you what though, if they only have ugly shirts, you're gonna have to get one too. Can't be doing this alone."

"Watcha mean?"

"Well look at you," you shrug, as if it's plainly obvious. "You're in all black and - not that I agree with this, but - I'm sure some people will find you 'okay' looking. You know all the yummy mummies are gonna be swooning over you instead of looking after their kids."

"Swooning?" He grins with a small chortle. "Are you trying to insinuate something, Byeol?"

You gasp, and take a step away from him. "Are you saying I look like a mother?"

This, he decides rather quickly, is dangerous. You almost sound like you're flirting. It's not that he doesn't enjoy it, just that he knows he shouldn't indulge himself and yet-

"Maybe I'm into MILFs."

You've a remarkably good poker face. He can't tell if you're actually annoyed, until you look at him with a small smile. It's hidden by the sultry, tempestuous expression you're throwing his way, but definitely still there.

"So first I'm a mother, and now you wanna fuck me? Well, aren't you full of surprises?"

If there's one thing Jeongguk enjoys, it's a girl who knows how to twist words. Regretfully, it always gets him thinking about other ways they could twist their tongues. The thoughts are unsavoury. Sordid. Lewd.

But you're you.

You're off-limits, and he knows better than to play with fire. He needs to get you wet.

Just, like, not in that way.

"I'll put you under that fountain if you don't stop twisting my words," he asserts as you walk through the park. To your right is a pool, with bright slides twisting in all directions around it. Families play, and laughter prevails. It's nice.

To your left is a row of spouting fountains for kids to run through, water pitter-pattering against the warm concrete floor. They're tall enough that even Jeongguk could stand beneath them without issue. You always think they look like reverse umbrellas; water pouring where protection should be.

Puddles of water interrupt the walkway, but neither of you care all that much.

"Maybe if you got your head out your ass and stopped flirting-"

"Not flirting."

You scoff as sarcasm wraps itself around your words. "Yeah, and I'm a MILF."

He pauses. Stops walking. Laughs.

"Right," Jeongguk says. "That's it."

It's said in a tone so light and airy that you almost don't realise he's wrapping his arms around you with a grip tight enough to crack a rib. Your playful shrieks are ignored by other park visitors, chalked up to you being a pair of young lovers enjoying the frivolity of a waterpark together.

"I'm in white!" is your final cry before he pulls you under the cascade of a fountain with him.

The worst part of it, you think, is how goddamn happy he sounds, laughing at your misery.

"And I told you to stop twisting my words, Byeol," he says like the bastard he is, while you struggle against him again. Finally releasing you, he keeps a clasp on your wrists to prevent you from straying. "You made your choice."

"I made no such thing," you wail, but the stream of water has you spluttering - and then you're laughing.

Laughing just like he is; like how you imagine Galileo would have laughed when he first pointed his telescope skyward, and saw the rings of Saturn. It's unadulterated. Blissful. Pure.

Jeongguk loosens his grip on your wrists. He rests his elbows on your shoulders, using his hands to create a barrier between the stream of water and your eyes. There's glitter on your cheeks, now, forced to part way with your eyes thanks to the water pressure, and Jeongguk finds himself grinning at how you manage to look like a party even in the middle of the day.

Perhaps he's a lot more like Galileo than you first thought. Maybe he's laughing because he's looking at the stars, too.

Water barrels down on the pair of you, soaking your hair, your clothes, your skin. It's heavy, the pressure of the fountain far heavier than a shower, but you suppose the outcome is the same.

You don't want to look at Jeongguk with anything but moderate vexation, and yet there's a fond smile tugging at your lips.

Strands of wet hair stick to his face, droplets catching on his lashes and falling down his cheeks. He shakes like a dog caught out in the rain, only to continue getting drenched because he doesn't move from the fountains trajectory. It'd be so easy for him to just manoeuvre himself out of the fountain's direct line and hold you in place, but he chooses to be caught up in it, too. Chooses to be with you. Experience with you.

You'd done his bird together. Only fair for him to do yours with you.

"You still scared, Byeol?" Jeongguk asks, voice quiet beneath the water pummeling down on you both, and yet it has your attention loud and clear.

You want to banter back, say something that will get tripping on his words just like you seem to be - but the rope tied around your ankles seems to be around your tongue, too. Instead, you just shake your head.

"See," he smiles, now. Pulls a hand away from your forehead to wipe at his. Puts it back. "Are showers really that scary?"

And then you do laugh. "It's not a shower. You know it isn't even close."

His face scrunches, water catching in all of his little ridges.

He'll admit the water is annoying. Keeps having to close his eyes. It's bothersome, and it's not like he even cares for boundaries anymore at this point, so-

Fuck it.

His pinkies are against your forehead, index fingers outward. He lowers his head, mirroring you. Rests his forehead against his index fingers. Swears. Can finally fucking see.

And now that he can?

He's looking at you.

With his head angled to such a degree that your chins couldn't be further apart, you still manage to fool yourself to believe that your lashes could brush.

"It's as close as we'll get to one," he counters. "You are showering with another person."

"I'm under a stream of water with another person."

"And how is that any different to showering with someone?"

He isn't stupid. He knows the answer. Knows that you're pedantic enough to go into all the clauses and stipulations that would ever stop this from being classed as a shower - and so he doesn't let you.

Instead, he pulls away, grabbing your wrist as he does so. Leads you further into the park with a smile so big you're surprised he doesn't dislocate his jaw.

"That's the hard part done," he assures you. "You've had a shower with someone. Say thank you."

There's an acute awareness between you both that he's not helped you to overcome your fear in the slightest - but he does have you laughing as you walk through the park, absolutely sodden, without a single care in the world. You're not even bothered by the fact your black bra is visible through the soaked fabric of your shirt.

See, Jeongguk's gotten you relaxed in a situation when you know you'd typically be frantic. He's taking the pressure off. Got you giggling. Got you facing a fear, even if it's not exactly how he set out to do so, nor the fear in question.

In his defence, he really had thought his contrived little plan would count. He'd have never insisted on actually taking a shower with you. He understands why you consider them so intimate. He does, too. Something about the vulnerability really gets him. It's not even the sex that inevitably comes with one that makes him weak at the knees.

He thinks of the girl who folded paper butterflies for him, and how he'd shampoo her hair, chest pressed to her back, and the fact it was in the confines of his bathroom that he realised he was in love with her.

So, Jeongguk gets it. It's why he wouldn't even consider anything but his dumb little waterpark shower as a remedy of your insecurities. He hopes a lesson is learned even if a fear isn't overcome: you can let down your guard without giving up all of you.

What it comes down to, you think, is that Jeongguk isn't a taker. He's not a giver, either, really - but when your walls start to crack and crumble, he doesn't intrude. Stands at a safe distance. Offer you back your bricks. Most men you knew would see a weakness in your defences and claim what's yours as their own.

He's not always been this way. Used to have a 'what's yours is mine' understanding of his relationships, too.

His butterfly girl had taught him that no, just because he was given temporary access to something didn't mean it was his. He'd learnt the hard way after he'd always swapped his heart with hers, not realising she'd ever want it back.

And so while Jeongguk will never fully understand whatever you went through - not unless you choose to share it with him - he can empathise. Treat you how he wished someone would have treated him while he was still healing.

As the clouds migrate across the sky, fluffy white shapes occasionally hiding the careful watch of the sun, the day rolls into stupid competitions and races down the tallest slides in the park. The reason you'd ended up here doesn't seem to matter.

Jeongguk races you to the top of the slides again, and again, and again, just to try and beat you down them. He never wins.

Not until you hold back by just a millisecond.

It's just enough to give him a slight edge, and have him roaring in victory - "ha! suck it! loser!" - as he slaps at the water, a smile larger than Hang Sơn Đoòng eclipsing any desire you had to win. You'll let him have this one. Let him have one victory.

The haze of late-afternoon sun grazes down on the pair of you, while you lounge by the 'adults-only' pool area. A lot of families have gone home already, but sometimes it's nice to be away from the shrieks of kids messing about in the water.

You're not exactly the maternal type. In fact, Jeongguk's the one who's been pointing out how cute the kids are in their little armbands and sprout hairstyles. He's not wrong. They're incredibly adorable - you're just not that naturally inclined to go 'awww'.

It's all swings and roundabouts, though. Getting away from kids meant being surrounded by, well, some less wholesome auras.

Jeongguk thinks he notices it first; the unwelcome gaze of a middle-aged man. He's felt it for a little while. Upwards of ten minutes. Thinks you're none the wiser. Tries to figure out what's so fucking interesting. Stares him out a little bit - but is ignored.

See, the man - who is probably old enough to be your father - isn't looking at Jeongguk at all. Too busy staring at you, and that shirt of yours which is still yet to dry out. You're on your back, sunning yourself, clothes sodden and sticking to your skin.

Jeongguk thinks you look no different to anyone else in the park. It's typical to wear regular clothes in places like these. Would be more shocking if you were in a bikini. And so while yes, he has noticed the fact your bra is dark, he couldn't tell you the colour because he's been trying not to look. Actively avoiding it, actually.

Annoyance isn't something that Jeongguk's ever been able to hide well.

As he sucks in a little bit of air between his teeth and mutters a small curse to himself, you glance over.

"Hmm?" you ask.

It's not like you don't know the man's staring. You had warned Jeongguk about your attire earlier. Was always gonna happen. He just hadn't realised that this was the reason why you'd been so insistent about the fact he was an asshole for not giving you a dress code.

Realistically, you could have bought a second shirt - but the pair of you got distracted. Didn't care so much when you were laughing and joking about how you both look like rats with your hair all wet.

"Here," he says, tugging on his shirt at the nape of his neck. There's resistance, the weight of the water dragging against his skin, but he pays it no mind as he pulls the shirt over his head. You're still laying down on your back, and turn onto your front with a small grin.

"Y'know if I really was all that bothered, I'd just do this," you say, talking about your change in position. It's not that you want the man to stare - you just know he will regardless. Know that your shorts have ridden up a little, and so he's getting a whole new type of show.

Jeongguk doesn't laugh. Smiles, but doesn't let it reach his eyes. Leans over and drapes the fabric of his shirt over the top of your legs. Over your ass. "You'll burn."

"I'm wearing suncream," you purr, knowing that this has nothing to do with keeping your skin safe.

And so Jeongguk just shrugs. Considers staying silent. Chooses not to.

"He might wanna stare, Byeol," he almost growls beneath his breath, feigning indifference through his body language. "But I don't."

"You saying you can't help yourself?" You tease, to which he just rolls his eyes and lays back down.

"I can help myself perfectly well," he says, tongue flicking against the inside of his cheek. "Just didn't finish my sentence."

"Oh?" you chirp with great curiosity.

There's a boldness to the way you're engaging in conversation with him. Makes you realise that Jeongguk is just the same as any other boy. He can see you as a sexual object, apparently. Just chooses not to. It's all very interesting.

"He might wanna stare, Byeol," he repeats, crossing his arms over his torso, a defensiveness to his posture, even when he's flat on his back. "But I don't want him to."

Though his eyes remain closed, Jeongguk can hear you move to sit on your knees.

Your back is to the sleazebag, Jeongguk shirt bunching by your heels. You pull it around and bundle it in your lap, mouth resting open in a slight stare of shock.

Unspoken words beg for him to look at you.

But he doesn't. Keeps his eyes firmly shut. Grins. Just says, "Lie back down, Byeol."

The worst part is that you want to. You really do. When his voice is that low, the look on his face that cocky, you want to fold like a sheet of fucking origami paper. Have him bending you about like one of those damn birds.

But then you take a second to think, and realise you're no better than that guy who is still staring at you so intensely you're surprised he doesn't burst a blood vessel. Makes you feel bad. Guilty.

So instead you toss Jeongguk his shirt back and, as you stand, say, "I've a fear of intimacy, Jeongguk. No fear in telling men to fuck off."

He's not surprised by your response. Quite amused by it. Sits up on his elbows. Watches with curiosity as you walk away from him - and then is stunned to see you beeline for the man.

It's the kind of thing he'd see in a movie, background characters slowing to a stop, time ceasing to move except for the leading lady.

And then you're pointing. Accusing. Jeongguk's not sure of what - he can't hear you from this far away - but he knows it isn't nice. Watches the blood drain from the man's face. He's ghostly. And then it all returns, red and raw, with such a vengeance he's surprised blood doesn't start leaking from his nose.

When you turn on your heel, Jeongguk observes with morbid novelty at the scene unfolding; the intense shame on the man's face and the pure brilliance on yours.

"Men," you sigh, as you sit back down next to him. Mirroring his position, you're up on your elbows until you casually let yourself fall back into your original position. "Sorry, where were we? You told me to lie down? Done."

Jeongguk doesn't say anything. Just grins. Collapses back down, too. Doesn't tell you to cover up. Knows better.

Doesn't shut up about it for the rest of the day, though.

Relays the story to you as if you weren't there - weren't central to it - with so much animation that you think he might turn into a cartoon on the subway home.

He's still talking about it between the part where he invites you back for dinner - "Jimin's gonna be in but it's cool. We haven't eaten all day, you must be starving." - and the part where he stands by your door, taking a whole twenty minutes to say goodbye.

You've declined the offer. Told him it'd be a bit weird seeing Jimin. Wouldn't know how to explain it. Jeongguk just says "of course, yeah, you're right. Didn't even think of that. My bad."

There's a little silence afterwards. You know why. It's rejection. Not romantic, nor for anything serious, but it's still the same difference. He'd spent the day trying to help you break down walls only for you to put your bricks on top of his.

It's as he's heading down your stairs (after his fifteenth and final 'bye') that you realise how rude you've been. Just 'cause you wouldn't feel entirely welcome at his doesn't mean he's not welcome at yours.

"Hey, wait a sec! Danbi's home, but do you wanna eat here?" You chance. "We don't have much in, but I can order or we can-"

"My God, I thought you'd never ask," he grins immediately turning on his heel and back towards you. "So hungry I might die."

"You won't."

"I could."

The pair of you bicker as you enter your apartment, Danbi glancing up from the sofa. She looks at you, then looks at Jeongguk, and takes a second to place his face. Definitely knows it - and then it clicks.

She considers asking why the fuck your favourite barman is following you in. He's known within the confines of your apartment as the Barman That Smiles (more commonly referred to as BTS boy), Jeongguk's name a secret just for you to know. Danbi doesn't realise all of those nights you waste are the bar are wasted on him, nor does she realise he's the reason you snuck off the other night.

What she does wonder, however, is if this is all part of your master-get-revenge-on-Seokjin-plan.

Instead of voicing any of these queries, she settles on "what are we having for dinner?"

You shrug. "Ask Jeongguk. He's paying."

He raises a brow as if to question your assertion - only for him to cough up the bill for the pizza delivery that feeds the three of you through a Deadpool rewatch.

When he leaves, Danbi tells him he has to come back next week for Deadpool 2. You grin as you walk him out.

"She just wants you to pay for more food," you tell and he nods. Says he knows.

But then he calls back over to Danbi, "See you next week."

She does a little cheer, and it's all very sweet. They get on well. His humour is welcome in your apartment, and so is his presence. Danbi also hopes it means she'll get more free drinks next time she's at the club.

"She'll play you like a damn fiddle if you let her," you warn just out of her earshot.

"Good," he grins. "We can double date with you and Jimin."

You tell him to fuck off - but also insist that he lets you know when he gets home. The way you care about him is so casual that it feels as if it's been this way for years.

As he heads on home, Jeongguk kind of hopes it will be. Hopes it's the kind of friendship that stands the test of time. Worries that he shouldn't take the flirting too far - but then he's distracted by the little fleck of glitter on the top of his hand. His thoughts are lost, a smile unwinding on his lips as he strolls back to his place.

The skies are void of stars tonight, and yet, for the first time in months, Jeongguk's eyes are full of them.

AO3 | MASTERLIST | NEXT

#by holly #jk #jeongguk fanfic #jungkook fanfic #Jungkook Fanfiction #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook ff #jeongguk fic #bartender!jungkook #BD #bad decisions #bangtan #bts fanfic #dappleddaisies

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keehomania · 5 months ago

Text

horror shorts (공포 단편)

bangtan sonyeondan (방탄소년단)

✧.* 16+

KIM NAMJOON (김남준)

it took him a week to find where you keep your wifi password. he was worried you’d thrown it away, but there it was in the cutlery drawer of all places. everything about the way you organized things confused him. maybe because you lived on your own, you just put things wherever and however. he knew there was someone else before, he heard you talking about him on the phone. jin? seokjin? anyway, he knew you said it was tough being alone. but you weren't alone, of course. you had him.

there was a crack in your roof where he could see down onto the street below. the roof was small, but he liked his places cramped. he even stuffed a few things up there to make it smaller (just bits and pieces from the recycling, he didn’t think you’d miss them). he could sit with his face against the wall and see down onto the street. that’s where he saw you meeting up with all those people wearing all black. it would've been weird anyway because you never meet anyone, but they were all rubbing your back and holding your hand. he was scared you were going to bring them in but you just went off together.

it really explained a lot that there was someone else before him. like the fact you had two sets of drawers in your bedroom, or how you lived in such a big house all by yourself, and did weird things like leave the password in the cutlery drawer or watch the same show all day on a weekend.

he wasn't one to talk, mind you. he was addicted to his toys. like the cigarette lighter that was fun to flick on and off, or the tube that had all the patterns in you could change. he could look down that thing for hours. he often has. that was what he normally did when you were home. or he just sat back and listened to you do the washing or run a shower or something like that. he crawlled up the walls and hung there with his ear to the pipes, listening to the water rushing by. that kind of thing made him happy. plus you never had anyone around so once he got your schedule memorized, he could move around as much as he needed.

he knew what you had. it was a symbiotic relationship. that meant you helped him by giving me a place to sleep and wifi, and he helped you by eating all the spiders. of course, there was no need to thank him. he fell asleep under the towels in your airing cupboard once (before he found the roof) and he saw you trying to get rid of one that was living under your sink with a broom. he had never seen so much fuss in his entire life. but it made no difference to him how many legs something has, so he just ate them up whenever he found one, and any other thing that made its way into the house without permission.

he tried not take too much food either. he found he could usually survive off the things you left out, or throw away. like the banana skins you tended to throw out. he never needed too much food to get by. he really, really liked butter though. not to eat so much as just to play with. you once left a block out by the window in the sun and it went all melty while you were at work, so he started playing with it. once he’d stuck his finger in once it was hard to stop. he had it looking like a puddle by the end. but then, he realized it was six and you’d be home soon, so he had to press it back into a rectangle as best he could. but then, he heard you opening the door. boy was he startled. he went into the cupboard under the stairs (the one you never went in as it was full of men’s shoes and coats) and he watched you come in through the doorway. but then came the weird part: you didn’t even notice the butter. all you did was make a cup of tea and then give up halfway through and start crying. then you ordered a chinese and barely ate any before throwing it away. that was what he meant about your weird habits.

you cooked dinner the other evening. he noticed because you played music, which you never did, and you made something with took almost an hour and a half with about a thousand ingredients. he crept down to the top of the staircase and he could see you bouncing around doing moves with the spoon. it was so funny, he had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing. then he saw something that had him scared. you’d laid two places at the table.

he thought there was someone else in the house and climbed all the way up to the ceiling thinking they’d see him. as he was hanging there, he saw you serving two plates and he couldn’t move for the panic. another person. he just knew he wouldn’t like them as much as you. that they'd ruin everything and make him go all crazy like he used to be. he didn't know what to do. he was ready to hurt them.

then you sat down. you lit the candle on the table and started eating by yourself. nobody else showed up, and after you were done you took the other food and threw it away. even though he was relieved, he felt kind of bad that the other person never showed up. you didn’t seem sad, though. it was like you’d expected it to just be you. after you went to bed, he went through the bin and ate some of the food you threw away. it was delicious.

he knew something was wrong the next day because you didn’t leave for work, and then you ran a bath in the middle of the afternoon. after you’d been in there for ages and ages, he started to get this horrible bad feeling. he crawled down to the landing. the bathroom door was open a crack, so he peeked through. he saw your hand. it was hanging, not in a natural way, and there was this long red line going down it and then he realized.

he ran back upstairs. he was a coward. he hid under his pile of stuff and started to cry. he thought about running away. he thought about the color a pink bathmat went when it was covered in blood. he thought about how much he wanted to be somewhere else. but most of all, he thought about you, and how little sense you make. he was sorry he had lit your roof on fire.

it was the only way he could think to get people to come. it actually worked better than expected. he ran down to the cupboard under the stairs and curled up with his hands over his head until he heard them kick the door down and carry you out. there was a lot of confusion and bad language, but they found you and he heard one say you were still breathing.

so, his favorite place in the whole world was gone now. most of his things as well, though he did think to grab the pattern tube. the rest was just a big black wig on top of your house. but he wasn't scared. you’d get better, and when you came back, he’d still be here. he didn't think it was nice to be alone.

KIM SEOKJIN (김석진)

“hey,” the masculine voice called out.

you told yourself you were just imagining it.

“hey sweetheart,” the masculine voice repeated.

you drew youe knees up to your chest and ducked your head under the blanket, trying to shut out the voice and the cold wind that drifted in through the window, ruffling the curtains. it was as if you were a little girl again, but you weren't. “who are you?” you asked.

“the monster underneath your bed,” the voice replied.

“you’re real?” you asked.

“what do you mean?” he said. “of course i’m real.”

“do you have a name?” you asked.

“of course i have a name, kim seokjin.”

“kim seokjin?”

“yeah,” he said. “something wrong with that?”

“no,” you said. “it’s just not very monster-like.”

“well, my parents didn’t want me to be a monster.”

“really? what did they want you to be?”

“a lawyer.”

“that’s funny,” you said. in fact, you could feel yourself beginning to smile.

“what do your parents want you to be?” he asked.

“dunno, hey jin?”

“yeah?”

“aren’t you gonna scare me or something?”

“why would i do that?”

“you’re a monster, aren’t you?”

“of course, but that doesn’t mean that i scare girls.”

“i thought that was your job.”

“it is my job to scare people,” he responded. “bad people.”

“am i a bad person?” you asked.

“no,” he said, “but you’re not the one i’m here to scare.”

“who are you here to scare?” you asked.

“the man in your closet.”

the skin on your arms went numb. you wanted to ask him what he meant, but you fell silent as you heard a rustling come from the closet. the closet door creaked open, and you could hear footsteps coming towards you across the bedroom floor. you didn’t dare peek out of the blanket. the footsteps stopped, and you could hear heavy breathing next to your head, so you squeezed your eyes tight. the warm sanctuary of the blanket disappeared as it was yanked off you.

you hugged your arms around your knees and prepared for the worst. a scream shattered the night air, followed by the sound of breaking glass. you opened your eyes to take a peek, only to see a knife lying on the carpet next to your bed, blade glinting in the moonlight. your parents rushed into the room and asked you what had happened, but you didn’t know what to say, only that someone had been hiding in your closet and they’d jumped out the window.

your parents called the police and they came right away. they picked up a man called jackson wang sprinting through the streets a couple blocks away. he was covered in blood and broken glass. they found jackson’s car abandoned on your property, and inside they found duct tape, knives, gloves and a video camera.

from what you heard, jackson’s lawyer employed an insanity defense, and he was currently incarcerated in a state mental facility for the criminally insane. you never heard from seokjin again, but the officer who arrested jackson told you that he slept on the floor of the facility.

he told the doctors that he was terrified of seokjin, the monster under his bed.

MIN YOONGI (민윤기)

do not speak of this sheet to any passenger. you are the only human on this flight.

check the time on your phone after reading this sheet. all rules will apply based on the time of your phone.

during the first hour of the flight, do not talk to anyone. people may try to talk to you, but ignore them completely.

during the second hour of the flight, you may start talking again, but if anyone mentions the window, do not look outside the window under any circumstances.

if you hear a child crying in the cabin, immediately run to the bathroom.

during the third hour of the flight, the captain will make an announcement. follow the instructions.

during the fourth hour of the flight, do not sit in your seat.

if you make it past the fourth hour, you will need to spend the rest of the flight evading the chaser. you will know who the chaser is when you see them.

he re-read the rules again while chuckling. did they give one of those to every passenger, or was he somehow randomly chosen for this prank? he checked the time on my phone just to humour the list. 7:13am.

that would be the first hour of the flight. suddenly, a young man walked over to his seat and sat right beside him. he gave him a casual side glance and saw that he was carrying what looked to be a laptop bag. “great,” yoongi thought, “he’ll work on whatever he’s doing and leave me alone for the flight”

the man didn’t even bother to exchange a single word with him as he settled down in his seat and put on his seatbelt. he stared straight ahead and completely avoided him. yoongi let him be and started to fiddle with his flight console. some people just liked to be left alone.

soon enough, the captain made an announcement of the plane starting and the steady hum of the plane engines started to vibrate the entire cabin. the plane started to accelerate until the g-force pushed him into his seat. moments later, he felt the plane rising into the air. he wasn't typically scared of flights, but getting on a flight always made him a bit queasy. this time though, his stomach was in knots, and beads of sweat were running down his forehead. his instincts told him he was stepping into grave danger, but he dismissed his thoughts.

the young man on his left suddenly tapped on his shoulder. he jolted up like he’d just been electrocuted. even through his jacket, the man's hand felt cold. cold and heavy, like a dead person’s hand.

he turned around and faced the young man. his face seemed, wrong. you know how those realistic human robots could creep people out because of how close to human they were, yet subconsciously we could tell that they weren’t human? that man was giving him that same unsettling feeling and his facial features were just artificial in a way he couldn’t place. maybe it was his eyes. a little too big, the pupils abnormally dilated. or maybe it was his nose, not exactly in the center of his face. or perhaps it was his mouth, lips way too thin and long. he didn’t look obnoxiously fake. in fact, it was those very subtle blemishes in his facial features that made him look like something trying to look like a human. and then he spoke.

his voice was normal. upon hearing his voice, the man seemed to look normal too and yoongi thought he was just freaking out for no reason. “do you wear headphones?” he asked

that was a weird question to ask. sid he want headphones? yoongi was about to open my mouth to speak when he spoke again.

“how would you feel if i cut your hand off right now?”

what was disturbing wasn’t the nature of the question itself, but the fact that he spoke in such a calm manner. it was as if he was asking him how his day was. suddenly, his mind went to the list of rules that he had subconsciously been squeezing in his hand. the first rule said to not talk to anyone on the flight no matter how much they tried to talk to you. he decided to ignore the man.

he stopped pestering yoongi and returned to work on his laptop. when he looked over at his laptop, he gasped at what he saw on his screen.

he had a photo of yoongi on his screen. that’s it. nothing else, just a full screen photo of him. before he could process that properly, he looked over at his keyboard and noticed that it wasn’t a standard keyboard. in fact, it really wouldn’t even count as a keyboard. it was made up of oddly shaped keys, all marked with strange letters that he doubt existed. the man continued to stare intently at the photo of me on his screen. it was then that yoongi realized that the list of rules wasn't a joke. suddenly, a flight attendant popped out of nowhere.

“sir, is this man bothering you?”

“yes he is,” he replied before his voice caught up in his throat.

in under a second, everyone in the cabin snapped their heads around until they were staring directly at him. their faces, they all looked wrong. inhumane. slowly, their long thin lips curled into wide smiles, and red tears started to roll down their faces.

JUNG HOSEOK (정호석)

looks like you’re using a new device. please verify your identity with the following security questions.

he hated answering those questions. he resentfully clicked, “ok.”

what was the name of your childhood best friend?

hoseok's hands hovered over the keyboard. two people came to mind—kim namjoon and min yoongi. he hadn’t talked to them in years, but considered them best friends back then. he couldn’t remember which he’d entered when he made the account, so he started with namjoon.

incorrect answer.

this was precisely why he hated these questions. he tried yoongi.

incorrect answer.

he tried first and last names. nicknames. surnames only. each time, the same message popped up: incorrect answer. he sat there, confused, staring at the screen. skip this question, he clicked, finally. but the next question had him even more confused.

what was the name of your high school?

“hanyang cyber university,” he entered.

incorrect answer.

how? frowning, he entered “hanyang cyber university,” “cyber university of hanyang.” every permutation of “hanyang” and “university” he could think of. anything that it could possibly be. but each time, those two words popped up, burning into his brain. incorrect answer.

skip this question, he clicked, and the next question popped up.

do you remember now, hoseok?

he jolted back from the screen. what the hell? his heart pounded and he suddenly felt dizzy. faint. he wiped at his face, feeling the walls closing in. then, he blinked. no. that’s not what it said. he misread it. he reread the sentence:

did you receive a text just now, hoseok?

we’re going to try to verify your account a different way. enter the verification code we sent to (XXX)-XXX-1539...

everything was fine. he picked up his phone and began tapping at the screen—then, jerked his fingers back. what was that? something wet and dark coated the glass, sticking to his fingertips. he wiped the phone off against his shirt, grimacing, and opened the text. fingers shaking, he slowly entered the code into the site.

thank you, hoseok. you’re all set!

he stood up, stretched, and walked towards the kitchen. he needed a drink after all this. after rummaging in the pantry for a few minutes, he pulled out a bottle of soju and poured himself a shot.

as he tipped his head back to down it, he saw the blood.

so much blood, pooling out from something unseen in the family room. his heart beat painfully in my chest as he crept forward. a body. face down. his jean pocket was turned inside-out, and strewn across the carpet were his wallet, his keys. no phone. trembling, he reached for the wallet and pulled out a driver’s license. the first name jumped out at him.

HOSEOK

he reached into his own pocket and pulled out his wallet. but he already knew the truth, now. he wasn’t hoseok. he never was.

he glanced over at his laptop, and the phone, sitting next to it. the bank’s account homepage, filling the screen, showing thousands of dollars ready to be transferred.

he’d done this.

he remembered, now.

PARK JIMIN (박지민)

every night on his walk home from work, jimin listened to true crime podcasts. even though his favorite podcast already released their episode for this week, the app said there was a new one. excited, he let it play.

“it was a nice city—the kind that has mom and pop shops lining the street, the kind where everyone knew your name. but little did the residents know that they would soon be rocked by a horrible crime.”

he stopped at a traffic light. the red glowed in the darkness, glinting off the wet street. a black suv sloshed by. across from him, eerie blue refrigerator lights glowed from inside a corner deli. the chairs all up on their tables, feet in the air. the signal turned to WALK.

“that chilly september evening was no different for the young student. he'd left his shift at the local store and walked back home, except he never made it home.”

young student. local store. damn, this was hitting close to home. he was a part-time student at seoul community college, and worked at the local convenience store. and, of course, he was walking home. he glanced behind him—looking at the alleyway behind the barbeque place, which was dark except for the neon light spilling from the sign.

“his girlfriend reported him missing the next day. the town conducted a volunteer-led search, and after two days, they found something.” dread formed in hiw stomach, anticipating “a body,” but what he heard next was so, so much worse.

“washed up on the shore of seokchon lake, they found a pair of size 9 red converse sneakers.”

he stopped. and looked down at my red converse sneakers, damp from the rain. what the hell? his heart began to pound.

“the shoes were sent to a forensic analyst, who would compare its wear pattern to another pair of his shoes to try and determine if they belonged to the victim.”

a rumbling sound made him jump. he turned, to see a dark suv turning left at the intersection. didn't he see that car a few minutes ago? maybe it was following him, and—

the car passed him and disappeared into the darkness.

come on, jimin. get a grip. converse were popular sneakers. a little out of fashion, but still. 9 was a common men's shoe size. and what college student didn't have some sort of a job? come on.

“after a few weeks, the results came back. the analyst was certain: the shoes belonged to none other than park jimin.”

the blood drained from his face.

park jimin.

his name.

he didn't have time to think. he forced himself to move. he broke into a run. the small shops turned into a colorful blur.

“searching the lake came up empty. without a body, a crime is hard to solve. but police didn't give up. and finally, a witness came forward: someone had seen a car parked at the lake that night, around 2 am. a black suv with tinted windows.”

he whipped around. the street was empty. no people, no cars. no witnesses, said the little voice in the back of his mind, the one that’s watched way too many true crime shows. his eyes scanned the shops. all closed.

“there were six black suv's matching the witness’s description in the area. but one of them, in particular, caught detective lee’s eye. it belonged to jo heemin, a registered sex offender.”

the sound was so soft he almost didn’t hear it over the voice of the podcast. he whipped around—and there it was. two blaring-white headlights behind him. coming from a black suv.

he forced his legs to pump faster. the car didn't speed up; it crawled along, slowly, taking its time. like the driver knew he could catch him, no matter what. he glanced back, trying to make him out behind the darkened windshield—but the headlights were too bright to see anything.

“he wasn’t just a registered sex offender. he’d been convicted of assaulting a men he worked with, who were on the skinnier side and had short, light hair, just like jimin.”

the car crawled down the road. stalking him, like a lioness stalked her prey. he veered left, onto his dark residential street. just a few more steps.

headlights flashed across him, illuminating my running shadow on the pavement. he didn't look back. he just ran, as fast as he possibly could. the little brown house with the yellow shutters came into view. he sprinted across the grass, grabbing his keys from his pocket. click. he threw the door open, and slammed it shut behind him.

then, he turned the deadbolt, collapsed against the door, and began crying. he heard the rush of the car passing his house, continuing down the road. but he wasn't safe—you weren't home yet. he was alone, in a dark house, with someone driving down the street who knew exactly where he lived. still sobbing, he checked all the locks. then, he called you, who assured him you were five minutes away.

he made his way down the dark hallway and headed into the bathroom. then, he set his phone on the counter, grabbed a clump of tissues, and began to blow his nose. click.

he jumped. whipped around.

but it wasn't coming from outside the door. his phone's screen lit up, the podcast was still playing. he must have hit it when he put the phone down. it had skipped several minutes forward, according to the play indicator.

“what do you think happened to jimin?” the baritone voice asked. he reached for it, to turn it off.

“well, he'd told me he wanted to run away before.” he stopped dead.

it was your voice. clear as day, coming from the speakers.

“he did? why?” the voice asked.

“he wasn't happy with his grades, his job, his parents. he told me sometimes he'd dream of just moving to some random country and leaving it all behind.”

he froze, staring at the mirror. he never said that. never. you—were lying?

“i mean, that was hurtful to me as his girlfriend, you know? i thought we were gonna get married someday. but apparently he didn't feel the same way.”

his heart pounded in his ears.

“so you think he just skipped town, and is happily living his life out somewhere else? rather than being abducted or murdered?”

a pause.

“yes. that’s exactly what i think.”

KIM TAEHYUNG (김태형)

it was as you were sitting alone, again, at night that you realized you needed to change something. this wasn't a life you wanted: children. but you loved taehyung and you knew know somin was his world, so you tried to accept it. you tried. she was cautious though and, despite your best efforts, you never bonded as taehyung hoped you would.

he popped his head out of somin's room after bedtime stories to tell you that she was feeling scared and he was going to stay with her until she fell asleep. you both knew he would fall asleep too, and you would eat dinner and go to bed alone again.

you decided to make a plan. and you knew it sounded awful, but you’d never agreed to living like this.

he'd be devasted. he'd miss her. but one day, he'd get over it and then you could live out the rest of your lives together and unburdened. you could travel. taehyung wouldn't have to work so hard to pay for her inhalers. it was the only path forward you could see. you would become enough for him.

you wouldn't kill her. you weren't a monster. all it would take was a phone call. you bought a burner phone and everything.

the following day, you added extra-strength cough syrup to somin's juice so she would sleep through any commotion. she said it tasted funny, but she was a good girl and drank it at your insistence.

when taehyung asked why she seemed off, you did my best to reassure him she was just tired. for a moment, you considered calling it off, but you could see the light at the end of the tunnel so clearly now.

after somin's bedtime, when taehyung left for a night shift, you arranged the drop at namsan park. at this hour, it should be empty.

you wrapped somin in her blanket and loaded her into the car. your mind kept replaying directions to namsan park, though you’d been there a hundred times.

you made it halfway down the farm’s driveway when a sound from the backseat made your stomach churn. in the rearview you saw somin, still asleep, but her breathing was labored. you forgot her inhaler.

the need wasn’t immediate but you couldn’t risk it. you left the car running and raced back inside. when you returned to the driver’s seat, the air felt different. an unease washed over you.

“where do you think you're going?” taehyung's voice, a chilling mix of rage and betrayal, came from the backseat. you froze as a shiver ran up your spine. the wire felt cold against your neck for a split second before taehyung pulled it tight.

as you felt your life slipping away, your mind drifted to somin's parents. like the rest of the world, you'd seen them on the news a lot over the last several months.

how long would they wait at namsan park?

they were so hopeful they'd see their little girl again.

JEON JUNGKOOK (전정국)

jungkook's wife went missing six months ago. you went out to work one day and never came home. it was a horrible shock to the whole neighbourhood, because things like that just didn't happen in your little slice of suburbia. the police launched an investigation, and the neighbourhood watch sent out search parties, but no one ever found any evidence to indicate what had happened to you. your families were devastated. recently, the missing posters have been taken down or papered over. the updates from the police became less frequent and dwindled away. jungkook accepted that, hard as it was to admit, you weren't coming back.

until you did.

a week ago, jungkook was in the back garden watering his petunias, when he heard the garden gate creak open. he jerked his head in that direction and, there you were. exactly the same as you were the day you disappeared. he was in shock. your families had mourned for you, and yet there you were, standing in your garden like you had just popped out for milk or something. when he asked where you had been, you said you didn't know. you couldn’t remember anything about the last six months.

all your family and friends are beside themselves with joy. they almost couldn't believe it. but that was the thing: he didn't believe it.

your families would never believe him, and he couldn’t go to the police unless he want to end up in a straightjacket. but he just knew that the woman sleeping next to him wasn't his wife. he didn't know what to do. he knew he should've been happy, but he wasn't. he was terrified. he didn’t know much about anything supernatural or paranormal, he didn't even like watching horror movies. but something about it all made his skin crawl.

the morning after you came home, he made you a cup of tea. when he handed it to him, you gave him the brightest smile. then, you took a sugar cube from the dish on the table and dropped it into the cup. your house was in chaos with your return, and jungkook was still in shock, so he didn't think much of it at the time, but it had been replaying in his mind ever since. he knew it didn't sound very significant, but you never put sugar in your tea.

then, it was the golf. a few days ago, when you was out visiting your mom, jungkook recorded a golf tournament that was showing. it was one of your favourite golfers that was competing, and you never missed it. once, you even skipped out on an anniversary dinner just to watch a championship. only, when you came home from your parents' and he told you what he'd done, you just seemed unbothered. you said thanks and everything, and then you asked if he wanted to get dinner. you didn't even watch it, and that was just out of character for you.

the final nail in the coffin, proverbially speaking, was jinyoung. just this morning, he came knocking on your door. his excuse was the tray of brownies he carried, but jungkook thought he just wanted to push his way into your morning so that he could see for herself what the situation was. after he left, jungkook called him a nosy busybody. you laughed, kissed his head, and agreed with him. that was when he knew for sure that it couldn't really be you. you always used to get mad whenever he insulted jinyoung, like he didn't have any right to hate him even though he'd been fucking his wife for years. but today there was none of that. he didn’t even try to defend her.

but you know why jungkook was dead certain that woman wasn't his wife? you didn't have a scar. if you were really her, you'd have a scar on the side of your forehead shaped like the golf club he hit you with. but there was nothing. not a mark. honestly, he was close to going out tonight and digging up his petunias, just to make sure you were still under there.

✧.*

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namjoonscoffeeshop · 5 months ago

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Karmic Soulmates | JJK

Chapter 2

✧ Pairing:Jeon Jungkook x reader ✧ warning(s): explicit language, knife/gun use, violence ✧ word count: 3.1k

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You bit into the sandwich, the room was lit from the fireplace as you sat next to namjoon who just stared at the flames. "I could get you another blanket " he says not bothering to look at you.

"I'm fine" you were already wearing jungkook's hoodie and had two heavy blankets on you another one would make you start sweating for sure. "How much longer" he says to jungkook who was studying the parts he had already drawn.

His method was intense, he didn't pass the entire map into one paper. Instead he drew it by parts in different sheets, this could be confusing to anyone since only he would know the right order of the papers this way no one else will be able to have a copy.

glancing at the man who was standing next to the fire place as he stared at the sheets of paper in his hand, with his nonchalant face he looks up at my brother "I memorized a good part of it already" he folds the sheets in his hand as he pulls the mantel away from the fire place throwing the sheets into the flames.

"You better have memorized it" you glare at him "If you forget part of it or fuck up don't come looking for me once I leave. I'm serious" he couldn't help but chuckle at you're threats "Don't worry I was trained for this, trust me"

"as long as you trust yourself, I don't care" taking in the last part of your meal you stand up "lets do the next part, the suns almost up. I want to be out of here before tonight"

maybe I should grab the rest of my savings and move, buy a new place somewhere else where not even they will find me. move from country? sitting on the stool once more I chuckle to myself like a mad person, move from country? I'm getting ahead of myself for sure. turning on the lights once more, they shut the blinds and jungkook begins to work on copying down the next part.

It was almost 8pm when jungkook propped himself off the fireplace and moved the mantel once more tossing the papers into the flame. "finally" I sigh in relief, I was starting to get a cramp on my leg from sitting there all day since I told them we couldn't have breaks anymore.

"I don't understand something" jin speaks up from the sofa where he was sleeping just a while ago.

"what it is" namjoon was rubbing his temple clearly tired.

"she said we had to get rid of her map, how the fuck do we get rid of that" he points at me with a raised brow as if he really thought I was a crazy person or probably just stupid. and it had slipped my mind that I had told them that, in truths I really wanted them to forget because what I had in mind...I don't think they'd agree.

after my legs adjusted to standing again I walked towards the fireplace, my hand still covering my front as I held my shirt tightly against me. picking up the flatter piece of the poker sets I move the mantel, pressing the end of the stick into the flames. As the end shined a glit of redness I turned towards my brother and extended the handle to him "keep your promise" in a daze he grabs it and stares at me in disbelief.

rolling up a towel that was thrown aside I roll it up and place it between my teeth. "woah woah what the fuck" jin shrieks and stares at namjoon with widen eyes "you aren't planning to go through with this are you" he yells. jungkook was shocked nonetheless, "are you crazy, we can find another way..i'll change the desi-"

"and waste more time? No I want to leave today" you spat, irritated at them. turning to your brother he feels you boring your eyes at him but his sight never left the end of the poker that was still a shade of red "are you going to do it or should we bring in someone who has the balls to do it" clenching his jaw he looks at his sister "i'm not doing it and i'm not letting anyone else do it either" throwing the poker to the ground he picks up the blanket that you had dropped and covers you with it "there has to be another way"

covering yourself you secure the blanket as you stand "there isnt!" no one was willing to mark your back, their reluctance made your eyes tear up from the anger that boiled inside "your pathetic namjoon, father would be so disappointed in you right now" laughing you shake your head but the stern cold emotion on his face did not change "you're not willing to destroy the map but you're willing to grab someone and put it on their back without any say in the matter?!" picking up the poker you turn to jungkook "do it"

jungkook stared at you with pleading eyes as he shakes his head "I can just ov-"

"no, I want it gone. I want everything gone" you yell pushing the poker onto him as you close the distance between the two of you. "don't be a fucking coward" you try to intimidate him but he stared at you with pity in your eyes.

"forget this" putting on your shirt not caring that you basically exposed your breast to jungkook, you get completely dressed and gather your items "are we done here" you turn to namjoon. his lips part and close as if he did not know what to say. raising a brow you scoff "are you sure this is the life you want, you don't seem fit-"

"it's you y/n, how can I ever be sane when it comes to you" he gives you a weak smile "you shouldn't leave until we figure out what to do with the map" jin speaks up, trying to be the more reasonable person in the room with no strings of emotion attached to you.

"yeah well I gave the solution and you don't want to do it" shrugging you swing the door open and march out without looking back. namjoon chases after you, stopping you turn to him "no, this is it. I don't want to ever see you anymore"

"it's not saf-" interrupting him you give him a big smile "I hope you live a long and healthy life and I hope that you find someway to be happy" not caring for the words that were going to come out of his mouth you walk out the same way you came in with jungkook and did not look back

it had been five days and there was no sign of your brother or jungkook. you were surprised that they had backed off so willingly. you were at the cafe planning a way to get the map destroyed this weekend which meant you had to get everything ready for monday after being gone the entire weekend. you were bringing in a few boxes from the storage when the bell ranged indicating a customer had entered. cursing under your breath since you forgot to lock the doors, taking the box you head to the front "i'm sorry but we're close" you place the box on the counter.

not hearing a response you look up to find a man in black clothes standing at the entrance. his face had a gross scar on his right cheek that began beside his eye and ended above the corner of his lip. taking in a deep breath you smile at the man who turns around to face the exit.

watching him hesitate you begin to back up to the sink where you had left knives. before you could reach the sink the man turns quickly and dashes towards the counter literally scared the shit out of you but you moved just as fast, picking up the knife from the sink as he shoves the box to the ground and swiftly climbs over in a matter of seconds he was in front of you.

He had no weapon or at least had not pulled one out, but you didn't let your guard down. "what the fuck do you want" you speak clearly showing now fear but the man did not budge nor did his eyes wonder his creepy state made your hairs stand as he bored his eyes into you. it felt as time stopped and you glanced behind him to see if there was anyone outside who could see this assault but the street was empty.

you stare at the man and neither of you moved, it wasn't until the phone suddenly ranged which caused you to loose focus cause of the sudden sound. taking advantage of the distraction he launches himself at you gripping your wrist as he twists it making you drop the knife. letting out a scream you clench your fist and swing at him but he lets go quickly kicking the knife out of reach. gripping your wrist your eyes tear up from the pain.

he did not wait and launched himself at you once more but this time you dodged him, kicking his back. the fight did not stop there as the two of you began to swing fists at one another, him not letting you no where near the sink. you felt the impact of him kicking your ribs throwing you against the counter. groaning as you grip your side you look at your surroundings and see the kettle of coffee you had just done, waiting till he was closer to you. picking up the kettle you throw the hot liquid at him, the man groans as he wipes his face. taking the chance you roundhouse kick him in the face which slams his head into the counter.

catching your breath you don't waste a second to run over the counter grabbing your bag. without looking back you dash out of the cafe and run down the street. you grip your side, the pain causing you to run out of breath quickly. without stopping you rummage through your bag taking out the phone. "fuck" cursing under your breath you felt irritated that it had come to this, flipping the cover up from the flip phone you dial the first number in the contacts. the phone rings but there was no answer.

"fuck namjoon this isn't the time!" you yell, running into a dark street. you had planned for this, incase someone came looking for the map. your senses were on full function you knew this street wouldn't be someones first choice but it was the least crowded street because of the lack of street lights and the perfect cover for one to run from a murder and for one to commit murder.

You then hear a second pair of footsteps hitting the concrete floor and quickly turn behind you since the sound was echoing but there was no one behind you. that when you saw him, it was a different man in fact a taller one and he was running at the same pace as you but across the street. anyone else being chased would be shitting bricks and no lie you were too but unlike him you knew where you were going.

you watch him as you see the dead end coming into view, he sees this as a great moment to take you and pulls out his gun just as you had suspected. but unlike his side where he only had buildings you had the forest. making a sharp left you jump over the gate and enter the forest. tumbling over some branches you gain your footing and ran the path you knew by memory. you could hear him in the forest too but you knew that unlike him you had the advantage.

the moonlight was the only thing lighting your path. you finally made it to your tree that had a hollow place inside. crouching down you pull out the bag getting a hold of your gun. you look around, your eyes already adjusted to the dark. making sure it the mag was full you slip the bag and the one you were carrying into the hollow space of the tree. dialing namjoon once more you watch your surroundings as it rings.

checking the contacts you dial jungkook's number but it also only rings. "fine, fuck you" you begin to tread slowly to the place you had fixed for this situation. when you hear a branch snap close and too close for your own luck. hiding behind a large tree you hold your breathe.

listening carefully you swallow hard when you hear more than one person "where the fuck did she go" the first man curses"she can't be far, I saw her using a phone. she's probably calling him" the other responds. they weren't close but you were both definitely in each others eye sight. meaning if you stepped out from behind the tree either you see them first or they see you. "even if she called him, she told him that day was the last day she wanted to ever see him. the moment she left jungkook wanted to run after her but namjoon said that he would honor her request"

"meaning?"

"he ain't coming to rescue her" you cover your mouth stopping you from gasping 'he's a traitor'

just as you were about to move from tree the phone rings, giving away your spot. dashing from behind the tree you run, instead of chasing you one began to shoot "are you fucking stupid, we need the map" the other yells and the shooting stops. you answer the phone holding it up to your ear as you run.

"hello?" namjoon says on the other end

"fucking bitch why won't you answer me" you yell as you hear them running after you "you sai-"

"but it's the emergency phone" you cry out, turning to look back you trip over a branch making you tumble down the small hill that you had not noticed. you laid on the ground catching your air as you heard namjoon yelling through the phone. getting up slowly you reach for the phone, using the small screen to light the floor you find your gun. "y/n!" he yells

"fuck" you groan, you held onto your side and took a deep breath "someones after me" you say weakly, tears falling from your eyes as you were having a hard time breathing.

"are you near the cafe" he asks and then yells to those around him to get the car ready "not really, i'm at xxx forest" you quietly say.

"the forest? what the fuck are you doing in a forest"

"it doesnt fucking matter, there's two of them and one of me and the first guy that I fought at the cafe really gave me a beating and it hurts to breathe"

"can you get anywhere near a road" you hear the door slam of the car, lifting your self from the ground you look around. you knew where you were. you start walking towards the road "yes, theres a big sign" you stop to take in some air "fuck" you look up to the moon and notice it wasn't just your eyes playing tricks but you were loosing conscious. "y/n whats wrong? can you get to the road or not"

"i don't think i'm getting to the road" you quicken your steps but everything began to spin and you lost your footing making you tumble to the ground, he keeps calling your name. gaining some strength you get back up and lean against a tree. "everything is fucking spinning"

"fuck" he curses, yelling at who ever was driving to go faster. you kept moving, not knowing where the will to move was coming from. "there she is" someone a good distance from you yells. "fuck they found me" you mumble into the phone. turning to the man who's running right towards you, dropping the phone you lift the gun and fix your posture. the man clearly couldn't see you well because he did not flinch nor move and kept running towards you.

pulling the trigger you don't hesitate, successfully wounding him on the leg he falls on the ground. you quickly pick up the phone and walk towards him. the man screams in pain as you stand above him "fucking bitch" you hear his partners footsteps. picking up the phone to your ear "oh and brother, one of these men are yours. they knew about that day" staring at the man you chuckle "it's the bastard that was at the door" pointing the gun to his head you pull the trigger "he's dead"

you tug the phone into your pocket as you kept both hands on the gun and make your way behind a tree at a distance from the body. you could feel your body swaying and you could taste blood in your mouth. your head tilt back against the tree you waited to hear his partner approach.

"y/n get to the road, we are close" groaning you hold your side once more as you take in a deep breath. you begin to run across some trees before a gun goes off and you hear the tree beside you get struck by a bullet and you stumble to the ground again. you hear namjoon yelling your name. you quickly stand and begin to run again, the road not so far from you. "honk" you say

"what?"

"honk" you repeat

you could see the road, and a car driving towards where you were running to, wanting to make sure it was him and not from the other side you wait behind a tree.

the car begins to honk and that was your sign, you hold your side as you run at full speed. "stop" you say into the phone when the car was right in front of where you were running "hurry" you tell him.

you could hear the man behind you and his harsh breathing as he tried to run faster towards you. turning you lift the gun and begin to shoot at him not trying to wound him but rather slow him down. falling onto the ground this was the last time, you knew you wouldn't get up.

you kept shooting the gun at the man until the gun jammed "fuck" you cried. laying completely on the ground you stare at the moon. suddenly you hear gun shots and namjoon yelling your name right before everything went black.

#bts smut #bts fluff #bts mafia au #jungkook drabble #jungkook x reader #bts au

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sunshinefullsun · 3 months ago

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Ranking my Lost fav characters from I would love to argue with them to I would give them a kiss on the forehead

Benjamin

Ok this was a bit obvious to be the first but just imagine the possibilities of annoyance together with headache and fierce sarcasm he'd spit through that sassy and egotistical mouth of him. Yes. He'd ate all my arguments like he ate the show.

Michael

His story, background and character development are stunning, yet he's so hardheaded I would definitely argue with him all day.

Rose

I love her, like a lot, yet she's so stubborn I'm sure we'd throw hands at the end or roll over with laughter because how stupid everything is, there's no in between.

Jack

He has that pretty privilege that allows him to be so… him. Well, I really like how complex he is and appreciate his role a lot, yet please I want -no, I need- to refute every single logical thing mixed with one hundred childhood traumas he says every two seconds.

Sayid

He's so hot in that mysterious and problematic way, I'd say yes to every incompetence he'd make, because he does that a lot, then fight against him again for doing so.

Jin

Probably the most handsome man on earth, yet so easy to tease. Understanding his character was a roller coaster ride of emotions but he's just a huge grumpy teddy bear in adult format, and such a good person despite it all.

Kate

I think she's one of the best charismas on the show, even if she has still so much to unpack inside. We'd have girls talk at night while doing arms workout or stop talking for months, that's how I see it.

Sawyer

He's one of the funniest characters ever on tv history, yet he can be so cocky and arrogant sometimes I wouldn't doubt to annoy him and oh a bit of romance tension oh what a pity.

Charlie

Even if in the show was already older than me now, he'd be like the little brother I've never had: funny, cute and annoying af. I love him a bunch and I don't think I could stand being angry at him like yes king whatever.

Juliet

She's like the perfect mix of cold and warm, logics and emotions. I don't think I could argue with her but rather have an intense discussion about a specific topic and then realice we both think the same.

Miles

He serves cunt after cunt after cunt. That's why we'd have cunty discussions sometimes.

John

He's crazy in the best way possible. I think I'd simply disagree with him to see how he reacts and then say it's ok you're right as always.

Danielle

I'd be that friend that believes every single craziness that she says and would definitely blindly supportive because how much I love this woman.

Sun

She's just so calm and fierce at the same time, every second she's on screen I'm happier than before and she deserves everything muah queen.

Desmond

He's so passionate about everything he does I'd definitely kiss him in that gorgeous hair of him and scream yes brother.

Hurley

I'd save him into my pocket and tell him everything's fine while he looks at me in those disbelief and comedy relief eyes with his perfect curls. Exactly.

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shanastoryteller · 2 years ago

Note

Happy Valentines!! Some more identity porn? Or first disciple WWX

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23

Lan Wangji looks down at Xuanyu, her face slack in sleep, and tries to reconcile the conflicting emotions he's been doing his best to avoid.

Despite how she'd curled around him the morning after they'd had sex, she's returned to keeping herself to her half of the bed without complaint. It's been over a week, and besides his brother's teasing and one dinner with a red faced Sizhui, nothing has changed. Xuanyu spends her days reading or meditating or sparring. The latter tends to gather a crowd of spectators these days, because in spite of Xuanyu's lack of power, she has an abundance of skill. She often abandons traditional cultivation style to resort to dirty street tricks more commonly seen in wandering cultivators, but it's hard to argue with the results when she's the victor nine times out of ten.

He should be grateful.

Xuanyu is living as she had since their marriage, asking nothing of him and completely apart from him except for sitting next to him at meals and falling asleep beside him at night.

When Lan Wangji had agreed to this marriage, he had not given thought to what sort of husband he would be.

Now, after months of ignoring his wife in spite of Sizhui’s affection for her to the point that she attempted to throw herself off a cliff, disregarding her injuries and abandoning her after their spar, and getting drunk only to nearly immediately demand her virtue, it turns out that the answer is he’s a terrible husband by almost all metrics.

Maybe that shouldn’t bother him. He never wanted this marriage. But it seems as if Xuanyu didn’t either, and he at least chose this. All evidence points to Jin Guangshan forcing her into this role. He at least volunteered.

What has she done to deserve his ire? His staunch disinterest? She’s treated his son with nothing but kindness, been courteous to the disciples, made a show of following the rules of the sect she married into, and has asked him for nothing.

Her greatest sin is not being Wei Wuxian.

This too is hardly her fault. Still, it’s a near insurmountable thing, that she is in his bed and on his arm and is not the only person he’s ever loved.

His grief is not her fault. Even he can’t bring himself to put any blame on her for Wei Wuxian’s death when she was still a child during the war and those terrible years after.

The sun shifts, shining through the window and landing across her face. It wakes her as it does every morning and she scrunches her nose before her eyes slowly open.

She meets his gaze squarely for one moment, then two, then she groans and covers her face with her arm. “You have to stop doing this. It’s weird.” She peeks out from under her arm. “Are you drunk again?”

“I need help with something,” he says, forcing it out before he can change his mind.

Xuanyu pushes herself to sitting, her eyebrows pushed together in concern. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

He holds out his hand. “Can you put this on for me?”

She stares down at the forehead ribbon in his hand. Her wide eyes and trembling bottom lip that she catches between her teeth tell him she knows what it means. “Are you sure?”

No. “Yes.”

Xuanyu’s brilliant smile in response is worth the terror and anxiety and uncertainty. He doesn’t think she’s ever smiled at him quite like this before, so much warmer than her teasing grins.

She’s his wife.

He owes it to her to at least try to be a husband in more than name.

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #wanderingthyme #untamed

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soraviie · 2 years ago

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chasing after you.txt

━ type: bts x f! reader ━ navigation

━ about: dynamics in order: Joon - one-night stand + enemies to lovers, Yoongi - neighbours with a bit of a bad boy influence, Jin - sort of arranged marriage au, Hoseok - exes to lovers, Jimin - sugar daddy/fake dating au, Taehyung - tease x anger issues/clingy + tsundere/f2l, Jungkook - bodyguard x ward

━ pictures taken from Pinterest

━ previously posted on soraviii

NAMJOON: "Aw, fuck, who invited that guy?" you growled, whilst rolling your eyes at the corner where Namjoon had been so precariously sat like an asshole. You hated everything about him - the smug smile, the cocky tone of his voice, the winks he threw your way. Kim Namjoon was nothing but a sure way to get your blood pressure up and stay that way all through the night.

"Probably one of his fri- Shit! He's coming this way!" as your friend dipped over the bar and away into the crowd, courageous as ever, you snatched your drink partially pondering about throwing it into his face.

"You look lonely," he cooed with that shit-eating grin that you had wanted to smack away since the first meeting. And maybe to kiss but he didn't need to know that. "Why don't I keep you company?"

"Keep company with your left hand like you usually do," you yelled over the music.

"Well it does pair well with certain memories of you," he smirked and you groaned in disgust.

A misguided February 14th evening could lead to many foul things - unexpected pregnancy, STDs, Kim Namjoon having the delusional idea that you liked him.

Frankly, you'd rather endure a yeast infection than have this 6 feet fuckboy in the disguise of a pacifistic art lover keep chasing you every night out. More than once you wanted to slap your younger self only to come to their defence over and over again.

Namjoon was big. Big man. Big muscles. Big...well you get it.

And that may have made you a little bit stupid once! But not twice.

Yes.

"I can't stand you," you sneered at him with the most contempt you could possibly muster

"Sit on my lap then, baby."

You took a long swig to finish your drink, sliding it across the bartop and walking backwards, you levelled him down with a:

"You'd only cream your jeans, caveman."

"That's possible," he reckoned with a soft smile watching you mingle with the dancing crowd.

And for a while, it all went well, you'd find someone to at least waste some time with only for them to suddenly start sprinting away for their lives. You frowned after them, coming to a screeching halt in the fun.

Did your breath smell or something?

Taken with dancing, you hadn't noticed the broad-chested giant charging forth, smoke practically fuming from his nostril as his eyes glinted devilishly when tracking down the opponent. As the music changed, you found your waist circled by a shovel-sized palm.

"You really have no luck out here. You keep on being stuck with lil' old me," he whispered in your ear, causing long trails of goosebumps where his breath landed and you elbowed him, hard, in the gut.

He didn't even seem to mind.

"I don't know who you think you are Kim Namjoon but I will never-!"

"Oh, how you hate me," he lets out a burst of raspy laughter, head thrown back on the pillow, pulling you closer as much as he can despite you both being considerably sweaty.

"S-shut up," you grunt back, thighs aching but just a little bit more and you'll be in your happy place even if it was with this obnoxious gym rat. "You're just a cock on legs to me."

"Oh, for sure," he smirks and then prompts himself upwards to bite on your neck. "But you might think of screaming a tad quieter if you want to be really convincing."

It's a sick sense of deja-vu to wake up sore and aching all over in a sun-filled room overstuffed with cacti and a very soft blanket. The bed was empty and as you clamber to the toilet wearing a shirt found on the floor, struggling to walk, you stumble upon him in the kitchen - Cheshire grin spread all over his lips.

"Good morning," Namjoon greets. "You want some eggs, babe?"

YOONGI: His eyes track your movement as though it's dazed him and it's in moments like these you wish he was a criminal or something, a certified member of a mafia. A flag touch redder.

Stay away from Min Yoongi, they said, he's trouble but what to do when he doesn't stay away from you?

"So a kitten does come out to play," he purrs pressing one of those veiny palms against the elevator doors, halting it in its tracks and climbing in. You roll your eyes and straighten your back to appear more threatening. Yoongi, of course, couldn't give less of a shit.

"You're one to speak," you counter. "The most walking you do is through your apartment. It's like a herd of elephants."

"Well then don't listen in on what I do, you little pervert," he smirks, pressing the 8 on the elevator and it jerkily moves through the floors, reminding you once again to be grateful for life.

"Give it here," without waiting for a reply, he grabs the hold of your bags and goes straight to your apartment doors. Once inside he makes himself right at home, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.

"What are we eating?" he questions gruffly, examining the produce with no small amount of judgment.

"You're speaking French now?" you push him away, relinquishing the rightful ownership of a pair of avocados you bought. "Whose "we"?"

He doesn't bother gracing it with a comment as anyhow a doorbell rings and you see his tongue poke against the cheek.

"Who the hell are you?" he questions sharply and you peer into the doorway.

"Oh, hello," you greet your coworker with a reserved smile. "What are you doing here?"

"Yeah, what are you doing here?" Yoongi echoes, placing his hand above your head and on the very edge of the door.

"Just interested if you're going to the uh... team bonding activities," he replies, fretfully glancing at Yoongi.

"Ignore him, I do," you smirk up at Yoongi. "And-"

"She has plans," Yoongi interrupts, pushing you back into the kitchen with his palm against your back.

"Oh, okay," your coworker stutters awkwardly, trying to lean in somehow. "See you around?"

"No," Yoongi cheerfully replies and smacks the door right into his face.

"You're such a dick," you groan.

"Did you have plans?" he asks with a teasing lilt, voice dropping nearly an octave lower. "And are you going to lie that it wasn't with me?"

"My jumbo-sized Charmander plushie and I are doing well on our own," you point at him with a packet of tomatoes. "Where you fit into the equation is a mystery."

"I'll tell you where I can fit," he laughed, wagging his eyebrows.

"No, no, goodbye," you wrinkle your nose in disgust, pushing his still laughing back out of the door. "Leave."

"Wait, what if I need some sugar?" he objects and you furrow your eyebrows, glaring up at him in suspicion.

"Do you?"

"No," he shrugs carelessly. "But what if."

"Begone, demon," you push against him harder but he seems to only enjoy it.

"Come to my game. It's right across the street in that park. I need a good luck charm."

"Will you be throwing a ball in your face? If no, then I'm not interested."

As you slam the door shut there still comes a raspy whine.

"Come on, short ass, come."

And if you do happen to drop by the nearest park with its shitty basketball court it's because you have nothing better to do and you needed some ice cream. Yoongi, uncharacteristically brazen for him, smirks at then winks in the middle of the game.

And promptly receives a ball to the face.

JIN: "Eat more garlic!"

"Straighten your hair with an iron!"

"Belch really, really loudly!"

You try to recall all of your friends' sage advice whilst pacifying your nerves. Being late nearly an hour didn't sit well with you but this guy was...determined. Insanely determined. So the ends justify the means.

When at last you arrive at the three Michelin star restaurant it's an hour later than what your family had set and you're wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. Your face may burn with shame at such a display but certainly, this would beat this broad-shouldered man off the path. This was beyond and above rude. You're already prepared to be yelled at, scorned and insulted but Seokjin merely blooms into an eager smile. Doesn't even blink twice at your choice of wear.

He dismisses the host with a polite nod and pulls a chair out.

"Hello, _________," he greets innocently. "Traffic is hell, right."

There was no traffic and he knew it only making excuses to achieve whatever nefarious goal he had set out to.

"Just give him a chance," your mother pleaded over the phone. "He's been asking about you forever. Please, he's rich and handsome, what's not to like."

What's not to like? Well, probably something. Kim Seokjin in your mind had always stood as that annoying guy who'd dropped a water bomb on your head when you were about to take the most glorious profile picture ever. Spinning in overlapping social circles, you'd seen too much of him growing up and had to endure several of your friends flailing over him especially when the pool season began. He was like a jar of honey to their fly status. And as such only a tar in your own pot of sweetness.

He was old. You had not exactly a criminal age difference but still more than 2 years. He was a creep, you firmly plant that idea into the recesses of your mind.

Why oh why, was he so insistent on asking about you?

"Good idea," he praises, pointing at your outfit. "It's best to be comfortable. I should have done that as well, this is quite uncomfortable," he waves a disappointed hand over the blue three-piece suit.

The waiter along with the menu serves you a freshly plucked side eye.

"Yeah, that's why I did it," dryly you mutter back, hiding behind the menu.

Think, think, think, what else turns off snooty men?

"Fucking shit," you cry out to your own amazement. "These prices are ridiculous. I'm not paying for this!"

"That's fine," Jin shrugs with that seemingly permanently etched expression of a tender smile. "I invited you here, I'll pay."

You groan.

"I'll fart," you threaten.

He shrugs and gracefully pours you a glass of wine.

"Everyone does that. It's a part of life."

You slobber your dinner up like a beast.

"Hmm, you're making the meal look more delicious," he nods.

And not even when you "accidentally" spill a mango sauce on his pants worth more than your apartment, does he weigh the thought of becoming angry in his mind.

"Ah, it's a perfect colour now," he merely congratulates with a jubilant cry and you let your head fall on the table with a thud, only it hits his palm as he had stretched it out at the last second.

"Are you insane?" you breathe out in sheer desperation. "Why are you not running over the hills?"

"Do you really think I can't see that you're doing this on purpose?" he smirks in amusement, over the rim of the wine glass. "We've known each other for a while, I know you better than that."

"Exactly!" you yell before falling into a hush as numerous daggers shoot your way. "You know me! As the annoying friend of your cousin! Why are you asking after me all of a sudden?! What joke are you playing?"

"Well, first of all," Jin corrects all too self-congratulatory. "I've never thought you were annoying. Maybe except when you were like 14 but who isn't the worst person in the world at that age? And secondly," his ears abruptly turn quite pink and he lets the wine glass rest on the table, nervously fiddling with its stem. "I asked for you because as you may know your mother is quite eagerly seeking various wedlock opportunities. For you specifically."

That makes you groan only louder.

"Don't remind me. So, so what? You want to get married to me?" you snort at the idea but then, for the first time ever, Jin is not laughing.

"Yes," he says dead serious.

"Wait, is this a prank?" you glance all around in an attempt to find the hidden cameras. "Are you pulling my leg?"

"I'm pulling no legs. What a weird thing to do," Jin muses and you narrow him down.

"Don't joke. It's not funny. Say "got you" or something. You can't be serious?!"

"Listen, ___________, I've liked you for a while now. I wanted to ask you before you began university but then you brought Jae home and..."

"Jae? Jin, that was...that was five years ago! You couldn't have liked me for five years?"

He averts his eyes and sips on his champagne. Even his neck is red.

"Five years?" you cry out. "And you kept quiet?!"

"Well, I told you now!" he objects with some indignation but even more of a burning shame. "All you need to do is to decide what you're going to do. 'Cause I'll accept you as you are, belching, sweatpant wearing and all. Even if you straighten your hair with an iron."

For a second you sit still and stupefied on this ridiculously over-padded chair ad then you feel yourself match the heat blooming on his face.

"You know Giulia?" you ask, downing the entire wine while desperately trying not to smile at the soft amusement in his eyes.

"Of course, I know Giulia," Jin chuckles self-consciously. "Who do you think gave me the genius advice of this stuffy suit?"

HOSEOK: You should have known from the start that this would lead to nothing good. What else could wait for you at the end of the nondescript hallways of conference rooms? One thing you didn't expect however was the loathsome face of your ex-boyfriend. Hoseok was sitting already by the table, beautiful as ever, leg nervously bouncing against the floor and treacherously a click of a lock snapping in its place echoes behind you.

He springs up from the seat, nervously glancing at where you tried to somehow break through the door. Or the wall, whichever came first.

"Oh, hell no," you growled, nails scraping against the doorknob. The betraying Brutus of a friend he had bribed to text you to come here will find an egg on their window for sure.

"_____________, please, let's just talk," he pleads. "Just let...let me explain."

"I don't want to hear any explanation," you hissed, turning to glare at him. From the way his eyebrows sloped, you could tell he was deadset serious but then it comes too clearly back into your mind.

That you were weird, not his type, that he doesn't understand you. But instead of simply crying about it you left. To cry about it in your own space. And also then turn incredibly bitter over it.

"I just meant that..."

"That I'm a freak? Yeah, I got it," you snarled before yanking harder on the knob. "Open the damn door!"

"No. If you're going to leave then please do the courtesy of letting me memorize your face."

You close your eyes, steeling your resolve. Don't give in, you reminded yourself, not after a whole year of hunkering through yet another heartbreak. Hoseok was just like the rest. Taking weirdness in all the things you liked, that you were. Why should you ever change for anyone else?

"It's been a year," you note sternly, having slid on the floor. He's also there, watching away from the small distance with a crease of a frown between his brows.

"Exactly. This year was one of the worst I've ever had," he confesses, supposedly earnestly. "I admit the things that I said were wrong but I did not mean it like that!"

"________________ is just a bit weird. You know the people I used to date, there's a bit of a difference, softly said," you quote him word for word. "And you said that to someone else! You opened your mouth, said that shit and thought it was okay!"

The sun behind the window had nearly slipped over the horizon and the office space was illuminated with a soft orange glow.

"You know the first time I met you, that was a lie," he mutters into the air. No one had come to open the door despite you nearly beating it off the hinges.

"Oh, that too was a lie, wonderful," you groaned, rolling your eyes but Hoseok remains sitting sadly by, occasionally passively twirling his shoe laces.

"I actually went past you on the street. Remember the crossroad by that small confectionery?"

You did remember. You lived right above it for a while, making your hair smell perpetually of candy for half a year.

"I...I got lost around there and walked past you, and you were sort of listening to your headphones, not looking around. I remember," he chuckled as though taken by an old memory. "You wore that knitted jumper that kept falling off your shoulder, the faded beige one and I just...I was so jealous of you, you were so carefree."

You glanced at him surprised. As far as you knew the first time Hoseok and you met was at a graduation gathering, a friend of a friend sort of a situation. And as you sat there, enjoying your barbecue by the side, wondering whether to dip your ketchup-stained hand in some weed brownies, he came up to you with the brightest smile, talking as though he knew you. Guess he did then know you.

"And the next day I went there again. I didn't even know why but I just did and you were there again. And I kept returning," he smiled at the ground but it quickly vanished. "Every day for a month before I met you at that gathering. Sometimes you were there, a lot of times - not but when you did it lit up my entire day. I didn't know how to approach you though, it's not a thing you do in the middle of the street, you know?"

"No," you affirm faintly.

"And when you left..." Hoseok winced at the mere mention of it. "I still kept going back," his breath was nothing more than a whisper stained with regret. The look in his eyes was downright depressing and you wondered if he had roamed around bearing the same heavy chip that you had. "And our favourite cafe. And your favourite park spot. I was there like...like a ghost lingering in your presence."

"But why did you say then that I was weird?" you sniffled, letting, for the joke of your own mental stability, some of that defence down. Attempting to look at Hoseok without the veil of contempt you've draped over him for a year. Dragging yourself back from hell was hard, dragging yourself from hell when thrust there by the one person you thought wouldn't do that - even harder. But by peeling off at least one cover, you saw many wonderful memories behind it, as slightly tainted as they were.

"I don't know," he groaned, hiding his face in the palm of his hands. "I was stupid. I meant in my heart that you were unlike anyone I've been with before. Not bad but different. And, yes, sometimes I don't understand you but I want to," he rouses to look into your eyes across the room. "I want to. And even if I never fully understand, I would like to make you feel heard and stand by your side nonetheless."

You stare into the sun to avoid crying. Stupid thought as no one ever stared into this glowing orb of light hanging in the sky in order to not get misty-eyed.

"What I said there was, I admit, crass. I was scared because I...with you I don't want to leave. I don't want to call quits when it becomes uncomfortable or becomes uneasy, I want us to grow together. And that scares me because, for the first time, I can really truly get hurt," he exhaled a heavy sigh, voice growing strained. "So when you left, no explanation, just gone in the wind..." he glimpsed over the horizon. "Anyway, I recognise me cornering you like this is wrong but...if you ran away because you felt unloved, I just wanted to show that I'd be chasing after."

Hoseok wiped at his eyes and briskly got up.

"But if you didn't and don't want me, I'll open the doors," from the pocket of his jeans, he fished out a glinting silver key. "I really just wanted to memorize you for as long as I could. I'm sorry."

He opens the doors and you called out -

"Hoseok!"

JIMIN: The phone kept ringing. You'd put it on mute but even so the bright light of the flashing screen stirred you awake and after a brief wrangle of putting the chip bowl actually on the table nearby, kicking your leg free from the grasp of the blanket, you simply watched it ring. After eventually growing into silence, it went to the 45 unanswered calls like the rest. You sighed turned to your side and slid the eye mask over the face, trying to somehow coerce yourself into immediate and indisputable slumber.

This was just the outward manifestation of his bruised ego, nothing more. You don't think anyone had ever rejected Park Jimin so this must be a new, unfamiliar feeling, one he'll get over in time and then maybe even laugh about it years down the line.

I mean, come on, you thought to yourself cutting the words like bloodied post-it notes in your own mind. There's no such thing as a rich handsome guy genuinely falling for someone so...

The disgusting words sprung too freely on the tip of your tongue so you settle for normal. To not at least give into self-hatred so easy. Such was the plot of romantic dramas and fantasies hence why it was fiction. Rich, beautiful people went for other rich beautiful people, normal folks went for normal folks. Dogs did not mix with chickens or pandas with capybaras. It was simply nonsense.

But as you close your eyes, the memories make it harder to be as clinically objective. All too well, you remember. His hands on your face, grasping as though he feared you would leave.

"Why don't you ever believe me?" he asked with heated desperation. "Nothing I say is ever good enough. Nothing is trustworthy!"

You tried to pry him gently away.

"Because how can I believe you? Look at yourself and look at me. This is not even opposites it's...unfathomables!"

You wished partially that he'd go to the good old Mr Park of the beginning, one who'd walked up to you in a cafe and asked if for a fair amount of money you'd be willing to answer his phone and pretend to be his girlfriend. And since the sum he called out was the rate of an onerous monthly rent, you'd plastered the sweetest voice you could in a matter of seconds with no questions asked.

When thinking of all the troubles when he approached you again, completely by accident, you had thought to yourself jail, assault, violence, even cannibalism for good measure, who knew what kind of sicko this stranger could be, but never you considered you'd be scared by the simple fact that he was in love with you. He had been cold, rude and brusque at the start and you had been fine with that, your "job" was to sometimes go to family dinners and lie which while not moral was not a crime.

Only then he invited to accompany him to his office, then to trips, then to movies and then one day you wake up in your bed and Mr Park, once a cold and resigned man, drenched in his own riches, is now making pancakes on your old stovetop and smiles the kindest smile you'd ever seen and asks if you slept well.

How could it not be a scary sight?

"I love you!" he shook you by the shoulders, not hard enough to hurt but as if trying to shake the bad thoughts out. "But you hate yourself! And you never listen!"

"They'll think I'm a gold-digger!" you cried. Just looking around his apartment made you sick. You couldn't even afford his carpet. How could he love someone with whom he shared so little with? He had never known the feeling of counting one's last money to afford bread or not buying something out of impulse. And you had never known the etiquette of polite brutality, of caring about who sits where because one word spoken at the wrong crowd table could destroy your entire livelihood. Love didn't change two profoundly different experiences.

"They don't think that!" he argued. "My parents wanted me to be with someone-"

"Poor?" you interrupted finally wrenching yourself free. Why was he so cruelly saying these things? He will just make you love him and then dump you with nary concern. Like others and then in time you will always think that you should have known better. Should have gotten rid of those rose-tinted glasses sooner not when they're smashed in shatters on the cold concrete.

"No!" Jimin immediately counters. "Of a different social circle! And even if they did, I don't care!"

"But the press-!"

"I don't care!"

"The rest of your relatives and friends-!"

"I don't care!" he yelled back, ripping at his hair, faint tears lingering in his eyes. "What will it take for you to believe me?! Please, why don't you believe me?"

"I can't!" you shrieked back in a sob. "Because better you not love me at all than fall out of it after some time! I don't want to be loved! I don't want to trust! I just want to be alone!"

Alone is what you were now but it felt no better.

"It will," you calmed yourself aloud. "Give it some time and your life will return to how it was."

Boring. Monotone. A single actor performing the most dreadful play to an audience of no spectators. You sniffled punching the pillow. Stupid Park Jimin waltzing into your life and making you think you were not the person you saw in your mind. That you were better. But how can you be when you're always "you"? A nameless face in the crowd, a cog in the machine.

No one, really.

As a sudden hand wraps around your waist, you scream and nearly punch the lights out of the affectionate attacker before in the faint streetlight streaming through the windows you recognized Jimin's eyes.

"How did you get in here?" you rustled in indignation.

"I had a key made. Remember? So I could greet you at home after work," he explained sternly.

"Well, you can't be here now-" you tried to argue, even push him out if needed, but he grasped at your legs and wrestled you to sit atop of him. You always fretted you were too heavy but he never objected.

"I'll leave if you order me to leave. Say those exact words: "Jimin, I want you to leave and never return back."

"I want to be alone," you muttered out of force of habit playing with the neck of his shirt.

"It's not the same," he cupped your cheek. "Until you tell me to piss off in my face, I'll keep chasing you every time you run. You think no one would? I will. Over and over again."

Your lip wobbled.

"It's ungrateful work," you breathed as he tugged you closer into a hug, gently swaying from left to right.

"Not to me."

TAEHYUNG: It takes thirty minutes for your aunt, a known stick in the mud, to go from screaming why was there a whole ass adult man traipsing in the apartment her niece should keep an eye on, to peacefully discussing the best nut selection over the kitchen table with eagerly listening Taehyung on the other side.

You were 35% convinced he knew how to do magic, and 65% convinced he was magic. And if he feasibly could he would live in your asshole. And the worst of all you can't get rid of him.

Well no, the worst of all you don't want to.

Coming from a rough environment, no matter how you slice or dice it, that leaves its own impression upon the mind. Yours being - people leave, people lie, people bad. It was easy to go through life, more than two decades of them in selective solitude, having friends but never letting them too close in and soon after they would stop even being friends. It was easy and predictable and while no one cared for you, you had to care for no one, could go where you wanted, how and when you wanted and fully enjoy doing what you liked.

And then this curly-headed now human reincarnated tiger-bear hybrid showed up. Literally dropping out of nowhere whilst still in university, pointing a finger of his frankly too large of a hand at you and then basically saying: "I want that one, that one's mine". Actually no, he did say exactly those words as you remember faintly chucking a dictionary of law at his head, thinking he'll abduct you or something.

And that's how six years later you were moved in. And he had invaded every part of your life, with his kind words, sopping eyes and chiselled chin.

As Taehyung slowly drifted to sleep, eyes falling heavier, his hand is intertwined with yours. And as you'll go to sleep yourself, despite him having his own bed, inexplicably you'll wake up with his breath against the back of your head.

Which was strange you know. You don't even remember agreeing to be friends with him. But steady as a clockwork, lo' and behold, at two in the morning, Taehyung's thigh squirms in between yours and he sighs in content.

Bizarre to say the least.

"Hey, where are you going?" he asks in wonder, poking his very shirtless body through the crack in the bathroom doors, toothbrush hanging from the corner of his mouth.

"Out?"

"Wait, lemme comme with."

"Can I go out on my own? As the big girl that I am?" you huffed dryly, brows furrowed.

"No," he replied with a smile. Then you walk side by side you glare at your hands, swaying together in the warm air.

"A crazy question, one I'm just putting out there, will you ever...leave?" you ask with a faint frown. There might just be this...supposition, guesswork if you will, in your mind that it might just be that somehow you're...Taehyung's partner now.

"Hmm," he makes an act of pondering it out. "No, no, I don't think I will. Unless you kick me out."

Kick him out. Why didn't you? When previous lovers threw fits about Taehyung always being near, you parted with them with nary of guilt because they were...not your rock. Your rock and safe space had become this strange, occasionally vampiric-looking, a cardigan-loving friend of yours. But he never vocalized it. Or so you thought. He was always teasing you about being hard of emotional hearing, now that you thought about it.

You halted in the middle of the sidewalk and he turns to glimpse at you, curious.

"Taehyung...are you...in love with me?"

Astonishingly, he bursts into a peal of laughter.

"I have been for years now," he chuckles light-heartedly. "Though thank you for finally noticing."

"Wh-why didn't you say something? Anything?"

An expression of deep fondness settles on his face and it warms you like the late summer sun.

"I say "I love you" every day, dumbass. I've chased after you for like six years now. Oh, god," he gasps, sounding suddenly absolutely horrified. "Six years of my life wasted chasing after your stupid head. Oh, I'm an idiot."

"So a moron for a moron, a match made in lower intelligence," you grumble and he snorts at it, crossing the distance once more. When he takes your hand it feels weird for a second. But only for one. You ask yourself what will change and realize - not much.

"That we are Mrs Kim," he coos with a broad grin. "Great! Now I can show you the plans for our shared tombstone I sketched back in the university!"

JUNGKOOK: "He's...will he be staring like that for the entire evening?" your friend asks timidly, voice nearly overshadowed even by the pleasant music of the brunch place. You glimpse over your shoulder to find him aimlessly lounging around. When meeting your gaze, his lips, almost involuntary, spread into a wide grin as his nose scrunches in a manner that is inappropriate for any self-respecting bodyguard. He at least gathers that and sobers with a stern cough.

"Yeah, he's just...my...finance manager," lamely, you trail off but at least they believe it. Considering the last three months it wasn't that believable.

"In a twist of miraculous fate, a poor vintage boutique worker becomes the sole inheritor of the Durhanan Estate," she quotes with a mysterious smile and you squirm awkwardly as you always did when it was bought up. Six years of lawsuits had rendered the luck into a frenzied fever dream one you thought would never come to fruition. Even when the final decision was laid to rest and the lawyers of your great-grandfather popped their champagnes with cheery eyes it all felt so distant. Like a different life. That feeling, you find out, never left.

"Yeah, it's...crazy," you chuckled self-consciously.

"So is the old house haunted?" she questions leaning over the table with keen interest, though every once in a while her gaze does stray worryingly to where Jungkook was standing.

"It's just creepy. It's big...and old," you confess perhaps colouring it with hues too bold, knowing only the answer such as this would satisfy her interest. It was old and entirely too big (who needed thirty-four rooms) but with Jungkook it was less lonely, less of a ghost house and more of a...

No, it's stupid, don't say it, you think to yourself.

"So now that you're rich," she throws a not-so-small of judgemental look over the crystal glass of mimosa. "Will you be forgetting all about us?"

"No," you assure her. "This means nothing. It's just a change of...housing."

But she only scoffs in reply. You think you might not have your best friend much longer.

"You look unhappy," Jungkook reckons quietly, whilst driving back to the Durhanan estate. A nearly 300-year chateau hidden within an unnamed forest deep in the countryside. Once the chief story of the local children's ghost tales and now - your home.

Of sorts.

"I'm just tired," you deny, peering into the rolling landscape of the wilting greenery. A rougher hand suddenly rests atop of yours, stopping them from ripping the skin around the fingernails. Your face swelters with heat and you gently remove his palm.

You were his boss and this was...this was not appropriate.

But Jungkook has other ideas and despite there being thirty-four rooms and whooping nine acres of gardens there's hardly any escape from him.

"My lady, oh, my lady," he calls across the gravel path leading down into the overgrown, ivy-ridden paths. He runs up to you and then gently tucks the bloom of one of the wild roses ravaging the grounds behind your ear. He tries to suppress the smirk on his face and narrows his eyes against the glaring sun.

"You're...you," he stutters. "You doing anything special, tonight?"

You don't quite know why but that question, posed so innocently and presumably out of a need to start a conversation, makes you laugh. It was only you two here, no wifi, piss-poor electricity and the nearest town, a village actually, was thirty-minute drive away and the only thing interesting there was a two-room corner shop.

"Wondering whether we're going to be killed by demons, yes," you laughed lightly.

"I was just wondering whether we could bust out the old reliable solitaire in the library?"

You sigh but it falls more endeared than annoyed.

"Jungkook, stop trying to seduce me."

At first, his face seems to be crestfallen only for a cheeky smirk to appear.

"Trying?" he echoed and slightly leaned into you. A gust of sharp wind broke through the gardens and in sync you glanced at the sky above your heads. A cluster of dark clouds was gathering in the south.

"Let's go in," he urges softly but his body standing behind you flames your back.

A thunder was ripping outside like something crazy, rattling the panes of the window so hard you fretted they would shatter at some point. And the house screamed. Every breeze of the wind seemed to tear into the old floorboards as though they were alive.

Ghosts are not real, ghosts are not real, ghosts are not-

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

You screamed your lungs out, lunging towards the golden candelabra perched on the bedside table.

"You're alright? Are you okay?" Jungkook's voice swims through the dark and you exhale in loud relief.

"Do not! Scare me like that!"

After a moment and a creak of the old floor comes a bashful.

"Sorry."

Another crack of lightning. In the brief flash, you see him standing, unsure but not leaving. It was a bodyguard's duty to protect and he always took his duty quite seriously. Even if this duty was simply to protect you from any unwanted journalists and stalkers where there was none leaving him practically with nothing to do.

"Should I stay here? Protect you...from the storm?"

You raise an eyebrow.

"The storm? That is-"

CRACK!

"Yes, please and thank you," you whimper and not even a second later, the side of your bed dips.

Crickets might as well be chirping at the moment.

"Do you want to hold my hand?" he offers, sweetly, oh so sweetly as if he wasn't a little demon wearing a cheap halo. But still, the house continues its wail. How many lives had been lost in these walls? What stories did they tell?

You didn't want to know and so you agree but as he takes your palm, your hand lands on a very firm set of muscles.

"Jungkook, please retake 9th-grade biology, your six-pack is not a hand."

"It emits the same level of comfort."

He trails your hand higher, over his pecks and lands right on his heart. It drums like a fevered bird underneath your fingertips.

"Why are you so nervous?" you hum and he rolls on his side and settles himself onto the pillow.

"Because I like you. And you like me. Even if you pretend that you don't."

"It's really not ap-"

"Appropriate?" he finishes and then tugs his hands over your waist pulling you closer. "Perhaps not but you know what happens in the spooky old mansion, stays in the spooky old mansion."

His warm palm cups your cheek, stroking it with a dizzied smile.

"And if it doesn't, I'm a really good runner, so you can scurry all you like," a pause. His hand presses you even closer.

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