#Jin scenario

[yoonia]

Ever A Never After — story masterpost

⟶ Title | Ever a Never After (adaptation from Enchanted movie) ⟶ Summary | Growing up in the fairy tale land, your whole life seems to have been written perfectly in the books, with the picturesque life and the Prince Charming that you can see yourself having your happily ever after with. But your entire world turns upside down when you are suddenly sent into a whole new world, a different kind of universe where happily ever after doesn’t exist. Thrust into a new challenge and shown a new side of life, you find yourself standing in a crossroad. When the moment arises, would you find your way back home to your true love, or is the universe trying to show you that sometimes happy endings don’t have to be written so perfectly?

⟶ Pairings | Jungkook x female reader; Seokjin x female reader ⟶ Genre | Strangers to lovers!au, Fairy tale retelling!au, Angst, Smut ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; specific warnings will be added accordingly on each published chapters ⟶ Status / Current word count / Total word count | ONGOING; latest update: Ever A Never After: Act 2 - Part 1 (Sept 16th, 2024) - 35,098 words of n/a words  ⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Feedback | Ko-fi | Music companion ⟶ Cross-posted in AO3 and Wattpad

⟶ Special Taglist: Ever A Never After

⟶ Story Note | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs). In place of the coding, you’ll find a blank space as her name. Please also note that our main character/reader insert for this story has her own nickname that will be used in the scenes. While the story is adapted from the movie, Enchanted, with some characters and places that were mentioned in the movie added into this story, I will be adding changes in the story settings, characters’ names and background stories to fit the plot. That being said, as someone who has never set foot in the land of America, forgive me if there are some inaccuracies in the details that are being added here. I hope that doesn’t change your reading experience with the story.

⟶ Chapters

⇢ Act One. Andalasia, The Maiden, and The Dream Prince [“It’s you. The boy I saw in my dreams.” “It’s me. Your Prince Charming.” | Word count: 19,688 words | posted: May 21st, 2024 | Chapter Teaser]

⇢ Act Two. The Alter World and The Saviour [“I need to find my way back to the castle.” “What castle?” “Why, of course, I’m talking about Andalasia.” “Huh, right. Why don’t I just call you an Uber?” | Word count: — | Chapter Teaser]

— Part 1. Welcome to the Alter World [Word count: 15,410 words of n/a words - posted on: Sept 16th, 2024] — Part 2. The World Without Magic [Word count: — of n/a words - posted on: — ]

⇢ Act Three. Fairy Tales and Bittersweet Endings [“You forgot to say the part where you lived happily ever after.” “Happily ever after? That thing doesn’t exist, not in the real world.” | Word count: — | Chapter Teaser]

⇢ Act Four. The Ball for The Kings and Queens and Dragons [“There is a ball for the Queen and Kings at the start of spring. Shall we go together?” “As your Prince Charming, I’ll be happy to escort you.” | Word count: — | Chapter Teaser]

⇢ Act Five. Prince Charming and a Happily Never After [“Look at how the tables have turned, as now I have in my hand the Prince who is supposed to protect the princess.” “Come along now, dear. You wouldn’t want to miss the ending.” | Word count: — | Chapter Teaser]

⟶ Fic talk & references

⇢ image reference

⇢ readers feedback & discussions

⟶ Patreon specials

⇢ visual inspiration board

⇢ fic commentary (coming soon)

⟶ Author’s Note | Originally commissioned by @pinkbtsarmy | It’s finally here! I’m so sorry for taking so long with this one. Thank you so much for commissioning me and for your endless support. As mentioned in our last talk, there will be some changes from the original prompt/details that I’ve made to make the story work better, but I hope you’ll be able to enjoy it still. I have decided to release this one as a mini-series to present the timeline more appropriately and make the storyline work. Have fun reading!

— © Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind is not allowed. unsolicited translations are not allowed.

[jinkookspencil]

a way to wake | ksj

you're fast asleep and seokjin has to wake you up... an old method he used on his friend eventually comes to mind

description/tags/note: seokijn drabble / fluff + suggestive / established relationship / i had this idea in my head for a while, ever since i found out how jin used to wake up jungkook when they were younger... and i ended up writing the whole thing while stuck in traffic on a random afternoon / i am actively working on til you make it 2 whenever i have the time! i'm glad i took my time with it, i improved it in all this time and am still thinking of ways to improve it little by little / also, i often get ideas or scenarios in my head that could be mini pieces, not even a drabble - some are barely even 500 words. would you guys be interested in stuff like that? lmk!! / anyways, enjoy!! / edit: i edited this fic to make it even more suggestive. they both hint at yn wanting jin to wake her up by touching her.

wc: ~1.3k words

Seokjin didn’t have it in him. You were sleeping so peacefully beside him, as you had through all seven of your alarms, likely finally getting in a good rest after many sleepless nights… and he had to disturb it?

He knew he didn’t really have a choice - you were already running late. It wasn’t going to be a problem for Seokjin really, after you both showered, it’d only take him a couple more minutes at most to change into his suit. You, on the other hand, always needed some extra time to get ready, and that ‘extra’ time was getting shorter and shorter the more he let you sleep.

You’d want him to wake you up, he knew that for certain, as well as the fact that you would probably scold him as well as yourself for your sleeping in. That reminder is what finally got him to nudge and rub your shoulder.

“Jagiya?”

He repeats the action numerous times, raising the volume of his voice every time, but still, you slept.

“Honey,” he calls with a laugh, tickling your side, belly, and thigh. Your elbow twitches once, but never again despite him repeating the action over and over again. “We need to leave soon. You need to wake up now, darling.”

Nothing.

He gets up to pull open a bit of the curtains, letting sunlight stream in and disrupt the darkness of your bedroom.

Still, nothing.

Frustrated now, Seokjin pulls out his phone and quickly takes a photo of you sleeping - just for himself - before opening up the music app. He plays clips of several songs, and all you do is wince, sleeping through them as you did your alarms.

“Are you faking it?” he asks aloud to your sleeping body. “Jagi… if you’re faking sleep, I swear I won’t eat you out tonight. I’m serious.”

Nothing.

That definitely would’ve done it if you were faking sleep. Really, you had no reason to fake it - you'd panic at the mere thought of running late - but Seokjin couldn’t eliminate the possibility entirely. You could be a bit of a brat at times.

He half considers physically pulling you out of bed, throwing a plushie at you, or emptying a water bottle on you, until he remembers a failsafe. A way that couldn’t hurt you like manhandling could, nor anger you with wet pajamas and sheets.

Jungkook’s way.

Seokjin giggles to himself at the thought. He had never tried it on any of his exes in the past, just Jungkook, really. It wasn't uncommon for boys to do such a thing at that age, especially when they were playfully roughhousing, which, with Jungkook, happened every day and at any time of day. Seokjin always had the edge by starting off Jungkook's days just like that - it always did the trick... And considering the other similarities you shared with Seokjin's younger friend, it wasn’t something to dismiss entirely.

Slowly, he turns you until you’re lying entirely on your back against the mattress, facing the ceiling with shut eyes. He moves from his position next to you until he’s over you, straddling your body with a knee planted on either side of your hips. He never took on this position with Jungkook of course, and almost started regretting it already - you felt too good.

“Jagi,” he whispers, pulling away the blanket from your body and letting his hand graze the skin at your collarbone and your stomach by the hem of your pajama top. He kisses your neck once, calling your name. It was the final chance he'd give you before he’d pull the trigger.

And you didn’t budge.

He sighs in defeat, not holding back his smile any longer when he sees your hardened nipples peak through the thin fabric of your top. Ready. Just for him.

With his index finger and thumb on both hands, Seokjin pinches and fiddles with your raised buds for mere seconds before you shoot up, finally awake.

“Wh?! W..what the fuck?! Jin!” you yell, wriggling underneath your fiancé’s body as he laughs, tumbling over you.

“I can’t believe that worked,” he says between his giggles, stopping only when you lazily reach towards his chest. “YA! I only did that to wake you up. You slept through your alarms, bub. We’re running late.”

“WHAT?!” you yell, pushing him off of you and hurriedly searching for your phone. “Why didn’t you wake me sooner?

“I TRIED!” he protests, getting off the bed. “You slept like a rock. Who knew squeezing your nipples would finally do it? It’s what I used to do to Jungkook when we shared a dorm. Though, of course, I used to twist his nipples to the point where he was certain I detached them from his body somehow. I tried handling you with care, princess.”

“Couldn’t you have used your fingers somewhere else, Seokjin? A bit lower perhaps? You know, something Jungkook doesn’t have? Something you could only possibly do with your girlfriend?”

Seokjin stares at you. Despite the fact that you’d looked delectable asleep and under him already, the thought never occurred to him. Of course the thought wouldn’t occur to him. This wasn’t a conversation you had had together and he hadn’t gotten your consent or any hint that it’d be something you would want. Unless of course, he had been the reason you refused to wake up… Seokjin’s mind wanders with a desperate need within him to have the conversation then and there, knowingly unprepared if you’d admitted to it all. Wanting to be woken up that way. A dream, perhaps. They might have just forget the event altogether…

He begins following you around the room with pleas for a moment to talk, but you don’t turn back for a second until it is to do the exact opposite of handling him with care - dragging and pushing him into the bathroom.

Seokjin watches as you undress, doing the same and half hoping for a quickie, considering your eagerness. He almost felt his length begin to harden, but soon you’re pushing him once more, into the tepid shower with a loofah in hand. He tries to put his thought away for now, caring for your body in another way he felt so privileged to do. To maximize efficiency, you wash yourselves and one another before going about your routines at double the pace. Seokjin’s entirely dressed in minutes, save for his suit jacket, while you were still getting ready, wearing a lingerie set underneath a robe. Extra time for you, and extra time for him to admire you.

“Help me with my dress,” you command him, stepping into a dress he promptly zips up, but not before he drinks up the sight of you in brown silk and lace underneath. Stood behind you, he watches as you adorn yourself with jewelry but can’t stop his hand from snaking over your waist, softly cupping your breasts over the fabric of your dress. You don’t react save for a sharp inhale, continuing to adorn your look. You’re so stunning it almost brings him to his knees. He’d happily allow his body to get there, too, kneeling to tease you at the very least and at most, sneaking his head underneath your dress and pulling down your underwear - just for a taste. But instead, he nudges his head in the crook of your neck - softly kissing along the chain of your necklace. “Tell me, honey… were you dreaming of me? Is that why you didn’t want to wake up?”

You roll your eyes, playfully swatting Seokjin’s hand on your waist, his fake arrogance replaced with a wide smile in seconds. “We need to leave.”

“I made a promise,” Seokjin says, wearing his jacket. “While you were asleep. I made a promise.”

“Oh?” you question, spraying perfume on the two of you. The final touch.

“I said that if you were faking sleeping through your alarms, I wouldn’t eat you out tonight.”

The promise makes you stop in your tracks towards the front door, Seokjin getting there first with an intrigued expression on his face when he looks back. “Since you weren’t faking it, that means I have to do it. And since you slept through the many different ways I tried waking you up… I guess it seems I gotta get you to do something else.... gotta get you somewhere.... many different ways tonight…. Oh, and of course, you won't be faking it this time around as well.”

He’s unsure if the redness in your cheeks is heat flooding your system or makeup he simply hadn’t noticed a minute prior. As you make your way towards your fiancee, you see smugness only slightly present on his face, overshadowed by sincerity - that of a genuine promise. Your hands fiddle with Seokjin’s tie before resting on his chest.

“I didn’t realize dreams could manifest into reality that quickly.”

“I knew it,” Seokjin smiles, kissing your hand as his ears go red. The idea of you actually having a wet dream about him this long into your relationship… the fact that you’d dream of him and his body pleasuring yours, after only hours apart in sleep… it sent him into a frenzy.

“I mean, I know I’ll hear it tonight, but I kind of wish you’d been moaning my name in your sleep…”

“Well, you didn’t see my pajama shorts, did you?,” you whisper, flicking Seokjin’s nipple over his shirt. He winces but is quick to disregard the pain - his face flushed, and he suddenly doesn’t know what to do with his hands, trying to reach for your waist, thigh, or ass - you push him away.

“It was a very vivid dream, honey. Don’t you worry… I’ll tell you all the many different ways I want it. The ways you did it… And tomorrow, wake me up like it never ended.”

There it was.

“Can we stay in? We’re late already,” Seokjin whines. “We can get a head start. Morning to morning…” He feeling his knees buckling at the thought, slowly trying to pull you closer to him in persuasion. You don’t budge and open the door instead.

“You know we can’t…. Now’s your time to dream of me.”

The hunger within him only grew, already fantasising of the of the night to come. Now, he was in competition with himself and he’d make sure your reality is far better than anything you could dream of.

[dumpywrites]

Random BTS story prompts (Request open!)

a/n: seeing the positive feedbacks from my prev writings, I decided to write more and I want your involvement! <3

Request away with a number and a member name!

Strikethrough/crossed = prompt is taken

One number per request

Done requests will be linked here!

Requests may take a while as I do write according to what catches my creative flow first. I don’t want to force write any story :)

Bold number with link means it's done!

Fluff

“Tell me your name.” “No.” (Taehyung)

“You look familiar, like that one guy from BTS.” (Namjoon)

You kissed someone at the party last night… but who? (Hoseok)

“Do you wanna see my cat?” You’re not actually lying but he thinks it’s a sexual innuendo. (Yoongi)

Costume party comes into disaster when you mistaken your crush as your friend. (Taehyung)

You wake up in a strange alternate universe where everything’s the opposite. (Hoseok)

Sworn enemies by day, restaurant mascot by night.  (Jin)

Your friend arranged you on a date with a BTS member. The catch is, you have to pretend like you’re not a fan.  (Jungkook)

“How does one incite a first kiss?” (Yoongi)

Watching a concert is fun, until you get knocked out by the idol's mic.

How to make an annoying guy fall to his knees 101.

Beauty privilege exists, that's why you're selling your hot best friend. (Jungkook)

"Aren't we done?" (Jungkook)

Angst/slight angst

“Treat me like yours again for a week before you let me go.” (Yoongi)

He doesn’t love me back but I’m fine with it. (Yoongi)

Your friends locked you together for an hour so you can make up. (Yoongi)

He only comes to sleep with you and you accept because your heart allows you to. (Yoongi)

You both deleted your memories of each other. (Yoongi)

Love and business don't mix, and so do both of you. (Namjoon)

Your husband who you’re about to divorce, lost his memories.  (Hoseok)

“It’s weird but can you please take care of my son while I’m away?” (Taehyung)

“This wouldn’t change our friendship, right?” (Namjoon)

A crippled and a convict, what a mix.

a/n: I will be adding more prompt later if the inspiration strikes! 💜

[taetaespeaches]

“Will you be quiet? You’re giving people the wrong idea.”

seokjin x reader (oc) genre: fluff; suggestive/smut word count: 1.7K

a/n: Hi lovelies! In a surprise to myself, this ended up being sexual at the end?? lol. Jin is gaming, Poopsie/reader is on facetime with Hobi’s girlfriend (Petal) and they realize that Jin’s moaning and groaning at the game is sounding quite… suspicious. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading! :))

p.s. I hope this isn’t shit. I honestly don’t know <3 

“So this goes with this,” the girl on the other side of the screen spoke as she held up two handmade pieces of clothing.

“You’re so talented,” you awed, finishing with a pout. “I love them, my little seamstress.”

She rolled her eyes, making you giggle. “I just thought you’d look really pretty in this material,” she said, rather shyly. Everyone seemed to be a little intimidated by Hoseok's girlfriend but you always found her to be quite endearing. “I can bring them to breakfast tom-” she suddenly cut herself off, her jaw slightly ajar as she looked to the left of your screen.

“What?” You asked, following the direction of her gaze. You weren’t sure what you expected to find: a ghost? An intruder? But you found nothing.

“I’m sorry but- are you serious?” She questioned, making you pull an expression of confusion. “Can’t you hear that?”

Focusing your attention to any sounds, you waited to hear something suspicious. After pushing your hair behind your ear, you heard a snort come from the phone. “What?”

“Did you just push your hair aside to make you hear better?” The girl teased you, making you shoot her a glare.

“Shut up,” you held back a smile, making you shoot a smirk at her. And then you heard it. To be fair, you had been in a relationship with Seokjin for a few years, and the man could be quite loud at times. Therefore, you became something of a pro at tuning him out from time to time. “Are you talking about Jin?” When she nodded in response, as if to say obviously, you grinned. “He’s playing games in the bedroom. Is he being loud?”

“It literally sounds like he’s getting off,” she deadpanned, nearly making you choke on air.

Shooting your eyes in the direction of your shared room, you tuned into the sounds coming out of his mouth. “Oh god,” you sighed in realization. She was right. He absolutely sounded like he was in the throes of filthy passion.

“Is he seriously just gaming?”

“Yeah,” you said simply, walking toward the hallway so you could stare at the closed bedroom door. “I think,” you joked, making the girl chuckle through the screen. “Seokjin!” You suddenly called out, waiting for a response that never came. “Hey!” You yelled again. Still nothing.

As you stepped closer to the room, saying his name again, your friend spoke out in alert: “Do not take me in there if you’re not one hundred percent sure he’s just gaming.”

Smirking, you opened the door to find Jin sitting at the desk, his back towards you, with headphones over his head. “Look at him, you switched the camera around to show him sitting in his pajamas, moaning and groaning at his game. “He wears the headphones because in his words, I don’t want to disturb you,” you giggled.

“Fuck off,” she smiled in response, shaking her head at the man. “That’s so funny.”

“Jin,” you yelled out again with a feigned sternness, your voice finally cutting through the sounds of the game, making your boyfriend jump in start as he ripped the headphones off his head and let out a surprised whoa as he turned around to shoot you a wide-eyed look of shock. “Hi,” you smiled sweetly.

“Hey,” he then greeted, quickly clutching his heart before giving you a small wave with a slightly embarrassed smile for being scared so easily.

“Quick question,” you told him, the man lifting his eyebrows to silently encourage you to go on. “Will you be quiet?” You then asked, holding back a smile of amusement. “You’re giving people the wrong idea.”

“What?” He asked in confusion, eyes blown wide as he stared at you. Making your way across the room to him, you turned the phone so he could see the screen. “The sounds you’re making,” you hinted before nodding at the screen.

“Who’s that?” He peered at the phone, squinting to make out the person. “Oh, hey,” he greeted in realization.

“You’re moaning, love,” you finally told him. “They sound very sexual.”

“They do?!” He raised his voice as shock and incredulity passed through his beautiful face as you planted yourself in his lap. The man immediately adjusted his posture to allow more room for you, his arm wrapping over your hip.

A snort of amusement and disbelief sounded from the phone, both of you looking at the girl rolling her eyes yet again. “I didn’t even know she laughs,” Jin muttered in embarrassment and defense, making you roll your eyes as you ran your free hand through the strands of hair at the back of his head. “Stop being a pervert,” he said louder through a smile, fond of the girl despite her teasing.

“Stop being foul,” she countered, wiping the smile off her face to feign annoyance, fooling neither of you.

Giggling at the two of them bicker, you leaned toward Jin’s face and left a quick kiss to his cheek, the man instinctively leaning into the touch.

“Ok, anyways, I’ll see you at breakfast,” your friend announced from the phone, only making you laugh further.

“I’ll miss you until then!” you called out, watching as she gave a single chuckle. “Bye sweets.”

“Yeah, yeah, bye,” she rolled her eyes one last time before ending the call.

“That’s so embarrassing,” Jin immediately groaned as he dropped his forehead to your shoulder. “How sexual?”

“Jin, you were moaning,” you giggled, pressing your lips to the top of his head. His hair was fluffy against your face and it smelled of flowers. “And screaming, but that wasn’t as sexual.” Lifting his head, he pointed a pout in your direction, your hands moving to hold his face, his cheeks plush under your palms. “You’re adorable.”

“I can’t get past this stupid level,” he whined in complaint. You glanced to your side to the computer screen, smirking at the game.

“I’m awesome at this game,” you bragged, looking back to Jin to see him smiling at you. “You want me to get you past this part?” You asked, already knowing the answer before he nodded at you. “Fine, let the master work,” you teased, turning your body so you faced the desktop, your back pressed against Jin’s chest.

His arms easily wrapped around your waist as he propped his head on your shoulder and watched you go to work with his avatar. “You’re so hot,” he whispered against your neck, leaving a kiss to the spot.

“I know,” you spoke quietly back, giggling when he kissed you several more times in a quick succession.

“Maybe I don’t care about the game so much anymore,” he hinted.

“Shush, baby. I’m winning,” you smirked, wanting to tase the man.

“Right,” he nodded, looking back to the computer. “Later,” he added, making you giggle as you pressed the buttons of the keyboard.

However, he continued to place soft kisses to your neck and shoulder, the affection heavily laced with desire. His agreement of, later, meant even less with the way his hands were quietly but not unwelcomingly slipping beneath your top to drag over the warm skin of your abdomen. You tried to ignore his touch, and the way it made your body tingle, but Jin was distracting. “Seokjin,” you whined through a quiet voice, but making no effort to push his hands away.

“Focus on the game,” he whispered near your ear, eliciting a scoff from you. “You can do it,” he simply encouraged, as though his fingers weren’t inching lower, threatening to deep beneath the waistband of your lounge shorts.

Ignoring him, you inhaled deeply and turned your attention back to the screen. And then his fingers broke the barrier, moving lower and lower, your exhale coming out quickly in both surprise and in anticipation.

“Just keep your attention on the game,” he whispered into your neck, smiling at the small moan you left out as his finger finally graced the spot you wanted him most.

“Honestly, Jin,” you pulled your right hand from the keyboard and instead gripped onto his wrist. “What fucking game?” Your voice was breathy as you let your eyes flutter shut for a moment.

The man simply chuckled, his fingers working magic as you gently and slowly moved your hips against his hand. “This game,” he told you, his voice low and thick with his own need. That voice was almost more distracting than his touch, almost making you not register the meaning of his words.  

Oh. So this was a game, you realized. With a smirk, you returned your hand to the keyboard to play the game, wanting to show him that you could still win this level even with his hand down your pants.

Challenge Accepted.

And challenge failed. You didn’t win the level, and it only took a few more minutes before you rose to your feet and dragged Seokjin to the bed, demanding more. But the games weren’t over, and you would find a way to win. You kissed him softly before whispering against his lips in that intimate way he loved: “Be loud for me, love,” you smirked as he hovered over you, supporting himself on his forearms, caging your face between them. “Let’s make those sounds real.”

“Stop,” he immediately complained in embarrassment, dropping his forehead against yours as you giggled in his smiling face. “Let’s see if you even can,” he then teased back, lifting his head from yours to look down at you. He was wearing an amused yet still slightly bashful grin, poking fun at himself but finding enjoyment in the new game you were both playing.

“Come on,” you retorted, glancing at his plush lips that you wanted on yours again. “We both know I can.”

He rolled his eyes, the sassiness only making you laugh and want him more. “Prove it,” he whispered as he lowered his lips to yours, giving you a sweet peck.

Tangling your fingers in his hair, you smirked before deepening the kiss. Challenge accepted, again. And this time, both of you had no doubt you’d win.

[muniimyg]

SWEETENER // KSJ !!!!!!!!! ON HOLD !!!!!!!!!!

in which jin has a sweet spot for you

+

being your neighbour isn’t easy... especially when you’re constantly knocking on kim seok jin’s door. but to be fair; he knocked on your door first

navi | m. list | send an ask to be on the taglist ! i will not be responding to taglist requests anywhere else !  

pairings:

softboy seokjin + extrovert oc 

au/genre:

strangers to friends to lovers 

neighbours au 

delusion [oc speaks for us all]

[slight] one sided pining / a sad excuse of a slow burn

smut, crack, angst

social media au + written

warnings:

implied + actual smut

name calling, love/hate friendships, big egos, jealousy, miscommunication, overprotective friends, childish social culture, and the friendzone vibes <3

parts:

ongoing / 25

index # sweetener ksj

00 | intro

01 | crying rn

02 | wuver

03 | map

04 | delulu girls

05 | going thru it

06 | flirting

[eoieopda]

Hello there jade! 🥰🥰 Can i please request a jealous + clingy seokjin? Thank you a lot in advance ❤️❤️

this may have ended up more sensual than originally planned, ope 🥴

cw: alcohol consumption, semi-possessive and intimidating implied dom!jin, surprise appearance by co-worker!jimin (not intended to be a creep, just the biggest flirt and also a chaotic bisexual because i said so 😏)

Even for a Saturday night, the club was significantly more crowded than you anticipated.

You’d walked through the front door with your little finger locked with Jin’s, but as soon as you crossed the threshold, the sea of bodies filled the space between you. The current pulled you apart and carried you in opposite directions. At his height, he should’ve been easy to spot; at yours, though, all you saw were the shoulder blades of strangers.

Deciding that your best vantage point would be at the bar, you slipped through the fray and ducked under arms as other patrons raised their glasses. Miraculously, you did it all in heels - without so much as a hair out of place. You huffed when you finally reached the bar, and turned back to gaze in the direction you’d just trekked from.

Still, despite fastidiously scanning over the room, Jin was nowhere to be found.

You turned back towards the bartender moments before a body sidled up next to you. Thinking the arm that brushed against yours was the one you were waiting for, you turned eagerly - only to find that the face smirking over at you wasn’t Jin’s.

“Didn’t expect to see you out in a place like this,” he leaned into your ear so you’d be able to hear him over the combined efforts of the deejay and the crowd. His cologne, you’d admit, was intoxicating. Familiar.

Park Jimin, as a matter of fact, had never seen you anywhere outside the context of your employment - let alone dressed the way you were. Tight leather pants, strapless corset top, blazer with a silk lapel.

You knew you were a smoke show. If the bottom lip pinched between his teeth was any indication, so did he.

“You drinking?” He gestured to the floor-to-ceiling shelves ahead. Any liquor you could’ve conjured in your mind was sitting there, waiting. All of it top-shelf, too; one bottle worth more than a sizable chunk of your paycheck.

Your eyes scanned the crowd but, once again, you came up short. “Depends,” you mused.

Jimin’s head tilted to the side as his narrowed eyes studied you. You’d seen this face before, this charm and self-assured posture. He used it frequently to snag clients and close deals and it worked every time - on men, women, and everyone in between.

But not on you.

You chuckled without glancing his way. You hoped your lack of attention would lower the temperature he seemed dead-set on raising, “On whether or not I intend to make my rent this month.”

“It’s on me, so I think you’re out of excuses, doll.”Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his eyes twinkle; still stuck on you. Then, he nudged your shoulder with his and teased, “Where’s your man, anyway? Can’t keep up with you?”

There was a hand sliding into the back pocket of your pants, but it wasn’t Jimin’s. You could see his ten, ringed fingers glinting over the countertop. Without looking, you knew exactly whose touch was laying claim.

Jimin’s smirk ran off and reappeared on your face.

“She’s quick, but I think he can manage,” said the man in question. When you turned your head to look up, up, up at Jin, his dark stare was actively turning Jimin to stone.

Once satisfied with his efforts, he leaned over the shoulder not occupied by Jimin’s. Jin’s plush lips hovered next to your ear while he inquired in a voice dropped low, “What do you think, love?”

Jimin looked like he didn’t know what to do. So, he raised his glass in salute, swallowed its contents, and smacked it back down onto the bar.

“Well,” he hummed as he wiped his mouth against the back of his hand, “Three’s a crowd - unless you determine later that you want one.”

He winked before turning on his heel to walk away. As he did, Jin’s arms encircled your waist and held you close. You leaned back into his hold; there, you promptly began to melt.

“You can order whatever you want, love,” He started, tucking one possessive thumb into the waistband of your pants. It warmed the bare skin it rested against, unmoving. “So long as I’m the one who buys it for you - and the only one who takes you home.”

[hot-soop]

don't let me tempt you / ch.2

pairing: angel!seokjin x angel!f.reader ⇢ au: angels & demons ⇢ genre: forbidden romance, friends 2 lovers, comedy(?), fluff, eventual smut (not in this chapter), lite angst ⇢ summary: Seokjin is temporarily banished from Heaven and you're not all that good at paperwork. ⇢ chapter wc: 4k ⇢ rating: fic rating is explicit/18+ for eventual smut; chapter rating is 16 & up bc they're the equivalent of ken dolls rn, but minors please DNI anyway. This isn't for you. ⇢ chapter warnings: LOTS of religious imagery but please remember that this isn't meant to be accurate, it's crack Good Omens style nonsense. Author is an atheist. Swearing. Drinking. Implications of loss of faith. If there's any tags you think I'm missing, please let me know - I'd hate to be the cause of any upset or discomfort ⇢ a/n: thank uuuuuu @ugh-yoongi for reading this over, i adore you

chapter 1 here

chapter 2

736 BC

August 12th. 6:13pm. Sunshine.

It’s been ninety-one years and twenty-six visits to Earth since your first cup of tea. Since then Seokjin has shown you could enjoy so many more earthly pleasures than you thought possible. He makes an effort to show you something new every time you visit, and humans, as it turns out, are so much more creative than angels give them credit for. You’re really starting to enjoy it here. Every time, you wish you could stay longer. And so you learned you could convince Turiel to add routine patrols on all your banishments - by all accounts you’re only ever visiting Earth on ‘Official Business’. 

(‘Managed to convince’ isn’t really the right turn of phrase, more like you briefly floated the idea and Turiel near bit your hand off to add more to your workload.)

Of course the visits mean more reports in theory, but truth be told there aren’t that many banishments to keep on top of, and you spend far less time with the other banished angels than anyone else need know. That isn’t the case for Seokjin’s visits. No, you could spend an entire day in his company and feel like it’s been no time at all. For those reports alone, you need to twist the truth. 

Your stomach growls and Seokjin tuts. 

“If you didn’t wait thirteen years between visits,” he grumbles. “Your stomach wouldn’t be so loud.”

You open your mouth to say that the only reason you have any interest in Earth is because of Seokjin and his friends (though maybe by now they count as yours too, it’s something you’ll have to ask Taehyung) but the sour look on his face gives you pause.

(Ah yes. Taehyung. Your readers will probably be wondering why he’s still alive. Well, they all are. As it turns out the change from human to vampire was irreversible, and all Seokjin had been able to do was make it so they’re not quite as immortal as angels and demons are. In short - one could kill the three of them with a stake to the heart, if they should wish. When you found out Seokjin had omitted the truth (his words) about their lack of demise, that had been the biggest (and only) argument you’ve had in the centuries you’ve known him. Jimin had cried. It was very embarrassing.

Of course, you’d moved past it, because there was little to be done to change anything, and you actually rather like the company of the vampire trio. Yoongi is another anomaly, he should be dead too, and he kind of- he sort of is. Seokjin calls him a ghoul. But having met him, you can’t say he’s as evil as the handbooks make ghouls out to be. A grouch, definitely, but you can see why Seokjin likes to keep him around. 

Anyway, the point of this opening was not Seokjin’s lie of omission. The point is Seokjin’s current disposition.)

“Why are you in such a mood?”

“I’m not in a mood,” Seokjin shoots back.

“You are,” you counter. 

“Am not.” 

“Are too.”

Seokjin flicks you on the forehead. 

“Ow!”

“Please stop,” snaps Namjoon from the corner of the room. “Some of us are trying to study.”

You crane your neck to spy on the book he’s reading. Heraclitian Philosophy. 

Seokjin notices you looking. “Namjoon fancies himself as one of the new age philosophers,” he whispers. “He won’t listen but I keep telling him they’re a bunch of miserable fu-”

“I can hear you,” says Namjoon, pointedly.

You and Seokjin share a private smile.

“We missed you,” he murmurs.

“Missed you too,” you say, cheerfully. 

You dip a spoon into the pot Seokjin is standing over, and he chastises you for tasting too early (it’s not ready, so he says) but it’s so good that you can’t help yourself. 

“Mmm,” you hum, appreciative. “My favourite.”

He’s strawberry red again. 

“Where do strawberries grow?” you ask.

Seokjin laughs. “You always ask such weird questions.”

You bonk him on the head with your spoon. 

“Answer please.”

“Dunno,” says Seokjin with a shrug. “I haven’t seen any here.”

“In Europe!” Namjoon calls over.

“Thank you!” you shout back.

“Why do you ask?” says Seokjin.

“I want to try one.”

He tilts his head, a curious puppy if you ever saw one. 

“I invented them,” you answer his unasked question.

“You?”

You frown. “Yes, me.”

“You made food?”

“I made lots of things.”

“But you didn’t try anything?”

“Well why would I? I made lovely things in pretty colours just like they asked and sent them off to Agriculture.”

Seokjin smiles sardonically, saying, “such a good little angel, aren’t you?”

You beam even though it’s a non-compliment, and Seokjin rolls his eyes, but this time the look in his eye is one of affection.

“What else did you invent?” Seokjin asks, and off you go, listing all the things in your roster until you lose your breath. 

After dinner, Namjoon goes out to meet the others for a dinner of their own, leaving you and Seokjin sitting in front of an open window, sipping tea and catching up on the happenings over the last decade. 

Seokjin seems down. He leaves his tea to go cold and picks at loose threads on his tunic.

After a while, you ask, “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” 

Your friend’s face falls into a dejected pout. “Time’s almost up,” he says with a heavy sigh. “Thirty years left and I’ve hardly been anywhere. Hardly seen a thing.”

Seokjin always claims he’s not sentimental, but you look at the home he’s built for himself, the friends he keeps, the trinkets that adorn the room, some four-hundred years old, and you deduce that there is little truth to that statement. What he isn’t is someone who tends to feel sorry for himself. 

It’s unsettling, seeing him like this. 

“It’ll be okay,” you tell him. “Once you’re back home you’ll have your miracles, and you can have all of this and more in Heaven.”

Seokjin rolls his bottom lip between his teeth.

“I’ll be there too,” you tack on.

His responding smile is a little pitiful, but a smile is a smile, and if that’s all he’s got, you’ll take it.

729 BC

January 28th. 6:56pm. Snowing.

Taehyung says he’s invented a game. It’s called truth or dare, and the objective is to tell the truth when you’re asked a question, or do something at the other player's request. Despite asking on several occasions, there seems to be no clear rules on how to win.

“This isn’t a criticism of your creativity, Taehyung,” you say gently. “But it seems as if there’s no real point in playing if your point scoring system is flawed.”

Taehyung stares at you. Jimin hides a laugh behind his hand.

“How do we know when to end the game if there’s no objective winner?” you ask.

They ignore you, and Namjoon suggests it would be better to write down the dares and questions and draw them from different jars. For yours, you write down things like eat exactly 2/7ths of an apple and what time is it?

Jimin pours drinks, because apparently there’s also ‘forfeits’ in the form of ‘taking a shot’ if you can’t answer truthfully or complete a dare, but you can’t imagine why either thing would be such difficult tasks to complete. 

“Why would I lie, though?” you ask again. “It’s my job to be divine.”

“You’ve lied for me on more than a hundred occasions,” Seokjin reminds you.

 “Nonsense,” you say, haughtily. “That was for the greater good.”

Jimin and Taehyung share a funny look.

Namjoon coughs. “Shall we just play?”

You grumble something about rules being made to be followed that the others pointedly ignore, and Yoongi is the first to draw from the dare pile, and Taehyung- who is reading over his shoulder- shrieks.

Run naked to the end of the street and back <3

Oh. 

Yoongi turns as red as a ghoul can go (which is to say, not very) and says he’s glad he can turn invisible, and promptly disappears from view. The only suggestion that he even leaves the room is the door opening and closing.  Jimin says pointedly that he bets Yoongi is still in the room, but a minute later the door goes again, and Yoongi appears once more at the table, pink-cheeked and panting. Jimin scowls like a child and calls him a spoilsport.

The game continues in this vein until Namjoon gets your dare.

“Put on socks?” he says, confused.

“Yes!” You nod. “It’s very cold.”

Seokjin laughs. “You really are an angel.”

You beam at him.

Namjoon goes to find socks.

“Stop making googly eyes at each other,” says an exasperated Jimin. “I’m bored.”

Taehyung nudges the jars toward Seokjin. “Your turn.”

He makes a drawn out show of searching for the best one while not actually looking, claiming he can tell who wrote it by the way they folded the paper. He pulls out one he says was ‘obviously’ written by Yoongi, but by the gleeful look on Jimin’s face, you wonder if it was really him.

“Kiss your favourite person in the room,” reads Seokjin. He stares very hard at the paper. He’s not even blinking.

Taehyung and Jimin break the silence with a giggle. Namjoon is back, with more socks on, and his eyes dart between you and Seokjin. And now your eyes have turned into curious little fiends too, looking from Seokjin to the paper to Seokjin to the paper, to your hands, which are suddenly very interesting for no reason at all.

Seokjin looks at you for a long time. Seokjin turns red. And then Seokjin kisses Yoongi on the cheek.

“Forfeit!” yells Namjoon.

723 BC

March 9th. 8:02pm. A little chilly, but not unpleasantly so.

Today, the cold weather has you craving kimchi jjigae, and Seokjin has only complained three-hundred times about it. He says he made a table full of food, he asks why you can’t wait until everyone else arrives, he says of course you’d want the one thing he hadn’t made. He makes it anyway, and mutters that none of his other friends are as demanding nor as needy, including Taehyung. 

The reason for the sheer amount of food adorning the table is because today is Yoongi’s birthday, and Seokjin is throwing him a party. Even though he’s sort of dead… and doesn’t need to eat. (It’s both pointless and confusing.)

You sit in front of the fire, bowl of jjigae warming your belly, kicking your legs contentedly while you wait for the guests to arrive. 

Seokjin is anxious. He adjusts the position of the furniture six times. He wipes over his ornaments twice. He sweeps the floor three times and shoots you a glare when you try to help by using a little miracle to evaporate every speck of dust in the entire house. Normally he appreciates the privilege your miracles bring, since he lost access to his own, not tonight apparently. At first you attribute his sour mood to the idea of people he hardly knows invading his space, because while Yoongi is the quietest being you’ve ever known, he’s somehow friends with everyone in a twenty-mile radius. But Seokjin has hosted before - it’s nothing unusual for him to play host for others and dissolve into the background once everyone starts enjoying themselves. 

No. Something else is going on here.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask.

“Talk about what?” Seokjin mutters with a scowl, distracted by fussing over a china pot that’s apparently three millimetres out of place. 

“Whatever it is that has you acting like you’re not enjoying my company.”

Seokjin looks up at you, expression unreadable. The silence hangs uncomfortably until it’s interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. It’s the first guests, bringing with them gifts of food and wine. 

People filter in quickly after that. You don’t know many, but those you recognise offer a friendly hello or a polite bow in your direction. You tend to keep your distance from most people, at least those who don’t know your true identity as an Angel of the Lord, but you do enjoy their idle chatter. It’s ever so interesting, the matters that concern them, the small things that bring them joy in their (without any disrespect) insignificant lives. You’d tried engaging a human in conversation once, at a market Seokjin brought you to, but Taehyung had laughed and suggested you needed more practice interacting with people. After that you lost your confidence. 

Perhaps tonight could be another opportunity, if Seokjin has enough wine to make his guests less suspicious. 

You jump up, fetching bottles and cups from the other room and passing them around with a smile. The humans accept them gratefully. There’s nothing like alcohol to get people talking. Thirty minutes later the room is full, and loud, and everyone is on (at least) their third drink. With a wave of your hand, the guests' cups are refilled, and thankfully it’s only Seokjin that seems to notice. He waves you over from the other side.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Helping,” you say.

“We don’t need to get everyone drunk before he arrives.” He stares at the door.

“I don’t think Yoongi would mind,” you say. “Hasn’t he been half-drunk every time I’ve seen him?”

“Oh, not him,” Seokjin says absent-mindedly.

You frown.

“Who then?”

Just then, the door bursts open and a dishevelled Yoongi is carried through on the shoulders of Taehyung and Jimin, with a panicked Namjoon following closely behind - hands outstretched as if that would help Yoongi if he were to fall. 

Everyone cheers. Someone pours them a drink. Seokjin continues to stare at the door.

Weird.

After leaving Seokjin to his own devices you decide to work the room and quickly discover how right you were about the alcohol. It’s been forty-five minutes and you can’t escape a man who doesn’t seem to know whose birthday it is, but is very glad for the opportunity to talk about his herd of goats and all the trouble he’s having with one particular fox. 

“I wouldn’t mind if it was a one off but it seems like the bastard has it out for me.” 

“That’s terrible.” You commiserate, trying to look interested while scanning the room in search of an out. The few people you know well enough to call for help from are otherwise occupied. Taehyung is pouring wine into Jimin’s open mouth. Yoongi and Namjoon are sitting around the table deep in conversation with an elderly woman and her husband. 

“-usually one a day,” he says, slurring his words. “Sometimes two!” 

“Awful,” you agree.

Seokjin is standing by the door, face impassive, talking out of the corner of his mouth to a man who wasn’t here earlier. He’s impossibly tall, doesn’t look like anyone else in the room, all sallow skin and sunken eyes. Seokjin has a wrinkle in his nose suggesting there’s a bad smell nearby. You’d bet your immortal soul it’s the man next to him.

“-at this point it’d take a bloody miracle to save my herd-”

“A miracle,” you echo, hardly listening, too busy looking at how the man holds out his hand. The eager gleam in his hollow eyes. How Seokjin’s lips curl with distaste but he shakes his hand anyway.

“I’m fucked if it carries on,” your companion says, voice breaking.

 “Yeah,” you breathe. There’s a pit forming in your stomach. “Fucked.”

“Excuse me?”

“Yes, me too,” you say. “I’ve just got to- uh- go… Over there.” And you’re weaving through the people in the room to get to Seokjin and the stranger who has your hackles raised like no one else has had in centuries.

“Seokjin!” you say with false brightness, smile tight. “Who’s your friend?”

Seokjin turns to you, eyes wide and desperate.

“Not now,” he whispers. “Please.”

You stand firm, undeterred. “I’m Seokjin’s friend-” 

And then the man turns his glare on you, and you see it. You smell it. 

A demon.

You can hardly contain your gasp. 

The demon grins. His teeth are unbrushed. “The angel says she’s your friend, Seokjin, and you haven’t told her what you’ve been doing? Who you’ve been talking to. Tut tut.”

Your gaze snaps to Seokjin who looks like he’s about to be sick.

“Told me what?”

“Not now,” Seokjin snaps. 

You’ve never seen him like it, not once in three centuries. Face suddenly hard and unmoving. Not even during your fight about his friend's lack of mortality. The pit in your stomach grows. Something horrible is happening and you can’t figure it out. 

“Go home,” he says, resigned. “We’ll talk later.”

“But it’s Yoongi’s birthday-” you start, but the hard line of Seokjin’s lips tell you your argument is pointless.

“He’s my friend, Angel,” he says, voice raising enough to attract a few looks from the people nearby. “Mine. Not yours. Go.”

Seokjin shouts. Shouts often, in fact. A drama queen if one ever existed. But Seokjin doesn’t shout at you. Not like that. One last wary glance between your friend and the demon at his shoulder, and you’re back at your desk wondering what in Heaven just happened.

723 BC

March 10th. 6:42am. Cold. Uncomfortably so, but perhaps that’s just the vibe in the room.

Seokjin doesn’t notice you’re back. But then he is fast asleep in his chair, several empty bottles at his feet. There’s drool running down his chin.

“Wake up,” you say. The miracle helps him along with stirring. You’re impatient this morning. He blinks awake, and upon seeing you standing above him, he groans.

“M’too drunk for this righnow.”

“Then sober up.”

Seokjin scowls and slurs in an accusatory tone, “you took my miracles, remember? You’ll hav-to wait for me to do it the human way.” He’s very green. “Pass me a bucket won’t you, m’gonna be sick.”

You arch an eyebrow, thoroughly disgruntled, and he groans louder as the alcohol dissipates from his bloodstream.

Now sheepish, Seokjin straightens up awkwardly. He doesn’t look at you.

“I don’t care for the way you treated me last night,” you begin. 

Seokjin nods.

“Yes. Sorry.”

“I also don’t care for your meeting with demons.”

Seokjin shifts awkwardly, rubs at his forehead, but the apology you expected is noticeably absent.

You suck in a breath. “Aren’t you going to explain?”

He nudges one of the bottles on the ground with his toe, watching it turn on its side, letting the silence hang heavy around you.

After a minute, you can’t bear it any longer. “Seok-”

“Can’t you see I’m miserable?” he cuts in. 

You sigh. “Well, yes I had noticed.”

You know it’s been a long time since he’s been home, there’s bound to be some apprehension about returning. But you’ll be there too. You’ve got sway with the committee now that you’ve been “putting in the work” with the banished angels, you can put in a good word for him, get him into a position that gives him more freedom to visit Earth now and then. You explain all this, but Seokjin shakes his head, but apparently that wasn’t a good idea because he holds it in his hands and groans.

“Angel, you don’t get it,” he snaps. “Why would I want to go back? Back to that place where they only give a shit about one corner of the world-”

“That’s not true-” you interject.

“It is true,” Seokjin insists. “The past four-thousand years it’s been Jerusalem this, Jerusalem that. Bethlehem and Jordan and Egypt.”

“They’re great places!”

“Yes, but everywhere else is great too. What makes one place better than the rest? What was the point of making all of this beauty if the one book of any importance doesn’t talk about it? If it’s just going to be gone-” He snaps his fingers. “-in two thousand years. All anyone goes on about is Noah, and Abraham, and Joseph and his stupid fucking coat! What is the point of me? Of us?”

“It’s in the plan-”

“Oh- who cares about a coat? What could the plan possibly say about that?” Seokjin is standing now, red faced and pulling at his hair. “What about these people?” He’s raising his voice again. “These people here? The people on the other side of the world? Where are their stories? Why isn’t anyone writing about them?”

“They will!”

“When?” 

You don’t know. You don’t know anything. 

“When it’s significant!”

“Isn’t everyone significant? Isn’t that the point?”

Yes. Yes and no. They’re obviously significant to each other, but not necessarily in the grand scheme of things. Seokjin doesn’t like that answer. His frown deepens when you suggest his faith is being tested.

“That was the stupidest idea they could’ve come up with,” Seokjin rants. “the notion of testing and tempting. No one can live without breaking one of these ridiculous made up rules or else our souls be damned for eternity. What’s the point? Be miserable for your entire life or be miserable for eternity. Can’t anyone enjoy anything without worrying for their immortal soul?”

“I don’t like this conversation,” you say.

“Of course you don’t,” says Seokjin bluntly. “Makes you uncomfortable, does it? You know I have a point and you don’t like thinking badly of our Heavenly Mother.”

You frown. “I’m not thinking badly of Her. It’s just- I don’t know. I don’t like it when you make me question things. We’re made to obey.” 

Seokjin scoffs. His eyes are so unusually cold. “I don’t want to obey.”

Your breath catches.

“What are you saying?” 

Seokjin hesitates. There’s a moment where you think he won’t say it, but then - “I hate it up there, Angel,” he says, and your throat goes dry and tight and uncomfortable as you remember the way the demon’s tongue rolled around the word angel, how it’s so different from the way Seokjin addresses you. You recognise the demon now, know him for exactly who he is and what he did to your friend. Leviathan, Prince of the Seraphim, tempting mankind and angels alike into heresy.

“You can’t seriously want to join their side?”

Seokjin’s face goes tight. “Of course I don’t. I want to be on my own side.”

There’s a beat of silence. 

You stare at one another.

“I’m not going back,” he says, brows knitting together.

“You have to.” 

“Angel-” he says it gently, with a tenderness so at odds with the way he spoke only moments before. “I can’t. I won’t be a hypocrite.”

“No-” you shake your head, reaching out and taking his hands in yours. He stares at you, confused by your insistence and your tears threaten to spill over. “Seokjin you don’t understand- if you don’t go back, they’ll know, they’ll kill you for defecting-”

“They can’t-”

“They can,” you insist. “Holy fire.”

Seokjin pales. 

“You haven’t got your miracles. You can’t survive it.”

He drops your hands. Sinks into the chair behind him and stares blankly at the wall. 

“Come back when you’re called, Seokjin,” you say, resolute. “For my sake.”

His eyes flit to meet yours. 

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

“It won’t be as bad as you think,” you say desperately, but you don’t know who you’re trying to convince at this point. It might be your home but Seokjin has never liked the way it’s run. But he’ll be safe, and that’s what matters. “I’ll help you.”

Seokjin smiles weakly. “Alright, Angel.” 

“Another thing I don’t care for is the way you’re calling me Angel.”

“Why?”

You reach out, pick a loose thread from the shoulder of his tunic. “It implies we’re too different.”

“Aren’t we different?” he says. 

He’s not looking at you. Instead his absent gaze is turned into the empty fireplace, staring at the ash left over from the night before.

“Not in that sense.”

Seokjin’s lips twist in a way that silently says not yet.

[holdinbacksecrets]

boyfriend things // closer

namjoon: you collect the night on your balcony. you trace the stars with one eye closed. you rest your phone against your chest, leaning back as his voice drifts and sticks to the breeze

jin: his body cloaks your own. come closer closer closer. become his home

yoongi: he hopes you’ll squeeze his hand tighter or roll the window down to scream into the breeze. he’s not going anywhere if you relieve an ounce of subtlety

hoseok: you wore a sweater, but your bare legs are cold. you don’t mind the feeling of goosebumps on your skin and the slight shiver as your body brushes the earth if he’s beside you

jimin: an unfamiliar city exists beyond the closed window of your hotel room. explore its streets gently in the morning with curiosity. the homes and trees will surely melt at your feet— he’s called it a talent of yours

taehyung: fall asleep in the living room. he’s painting again, and your birthday is tomorrow. fall asleep with leftover ideas on the tip of your tongue and hope they’ll fall free when the sun collects your dreams

jungkook: it’s hardest to speak when the weeks together are still early, still shy and shallow, but the love has gained depth. its current turns secrets and comforting words. open your mouth, he’s listening

[theiris-storyvault]

Somewhere Only We Know

Seokjin X Reader

Genre: Angst, Comfort

a/n: hi! It's been sooooooo long since my last update. College has made me into such a busy girl, but atleast time has let me cough up this piece. This has a great and deep meaning for me, somewhat a parting message to the pain and grief i've been enduring for the last few years. I haven't fully recovered but this is my biggest step yet.

Sypnosis: Before the divorce was finalized, you go back to the place where you and your husband go every time you'd want an escape to try to rethink where everything went wrong, and how it could have been done right.

🌸

26th of August, just three days shy before the trial— one that you didn't even want in the first place. The divorce was set. The night Jin handed you the papers, asking you to terminate the marriage was the night you stopped living. The night that drained all color and emotion in you 'til you were nothing but a soul with a host body, slumped across the living room couch hoping he would come home, but every night after that, he didn't, he never did.

The air had been circling around you for a minute that seemed to be an hour to you now. It was cold, and a part of you wished that he was here with you to hand you his jacket even after he told you to bring your own, but a part of you also thanked the heavens that he wasn't here. The only place where you felt safe was the place where Jin would take you when everything felt like it was falling apart. It was on open ground where you could watch airplanes take off and land. You would go together often, with a basket of cheese muffins for you, a box of chicken wings for Jin, and a big jug of ice-cold water. You would sit together for hours, talking about everything you wanted. Waving hello and goodbye to every plane that flew in each other's arms until the sun sets and it was time to go.

You would give up everything you now had to bring back the simplest thing you loved most, but It was over now. Today, you were tired of fighting. It was a battle that you wanted to win alone because he had already given up. He didn't even bother trying, and maybe you understood why but of course you didn't want to accept it. How could you lose something as beautiful as this? It was never in your plans to begin with. The only promise was for now and forever, 'til death do you part—but what happened? Every night it's the same question over and over.

You want to say it was because of something bad; something about someone doing the unthinkable, but it wasn't. The truth is—life just happened. Seokjin fell out of love for you, and you got tired of fighting—against, with, and for. It's for the best. A phrase you say to him, he says to you, and the people around you say aloud, and as nice as it sounds, you know it's not true. You knew in you that if only it was the both of you then maybe it could still work, because you knew him, his love, and his capabilities. He was your Seokjin before anything.

To be loved is to be seen, but right now, you guess he was blind.

The air softly blows against you as you sit on a blanket with a half-empty beer can. The tears on your face never cease to fall as you take a swig of cola. The orangey sky turned pink, purple, then black, and soon, it was nothing but the moon. It was a crescent. You and Seokjin always believed that the crescent moon symbolized a smile the sky made.

"I knew you'd be here," you hear from behind you. Often, the sound of that voice would excite you and make you feel like you're floating, but tonight, you felt nothing—not a tingle, not a beep, not a butterfly. You don't respond to Seokjin; instead, you drink everything up and keep your gaze on the smiling sky. "I'm sorry," he says.

"No, you aren't," You say monotonously, opening another can of beer. "If you came here to lie, then just leave me alone. I don't need your pity after what you made me feel. You left me Jin. You left me. " He was silent.

After a moment, you feel him sit beside you. "Why are you here?" You ask. "To come find you," you laugh bitterly. "The fuck Jin? After ghosting me, leaving me to shrivel and cry in our apartment you try to come and find me? What the fuck is wrong with you?". He sighs. You turn your head toward him, finally looking at his face. He seemed fine, but you know he isn't. "Sorry, I didn't mean to snap. I'm just tired of it all." He nods. "I understand."

"Can I be honest with you?" You ask. "Sure"

"I'm gonna hate you. Not forever, but for a long long time, I'm gonna try to hate you." You say sternly, with gritted teeth. You feel Jin nod beside you, his eyes looking at your face that's turned away from him. "But knowing me, and how my heart is filled with nothing but you, I know that I couldn't do it. So I need to now ask you a favor."

"Tonight, let's pretend like we're okay. Like nothing is about to happen in the next three days that will crush me and my whole world forever. Then, after we leave, you need to promise me that you'll never talk to me again, nor will you even let me see you." You start to feel a lump in your throat, but you swallow it back not wanting to show him any more emotion. "Because if you do, I might not be able to stop myself from begging you to stay, even if it means loving you one-sided."

The tension shifts as you hear him sniffle. Nothing else comes after than leaving silence to embrace you both. "Okay." Is what he says before pulling you're hand into his; and reflexively, your head falls on to his shoulder. His lips plant a soft kiss atop your head before whispering. "Happy Birthday, my love".

[loving-jin]

Do you ever think about life - Kim Seokjin

Summary: lazy, comfort time with Jin who deals with your romantic existential thoughts Pairings: Jin x yn (female) Warnings: none, just love and comfort Words: 731 All rights reserved

Hello! I am back again for a drabble about my sweet man, Jin! It's just a silly comfort one I wrote for the times we feel like we need a little bit more love:) Feedback and reblogs are appreciatable!

The soft light of the long-risen sun was reflecting on your face as you stretched your arms a little, snuggling better in your bed. You felt a familiar scent back on your nostrils, a scent that reminded you of home. It was no other of your boyfriend, Seokjin. In your teddy matching pajamas that Jin highly insisted that you both buy on a random shopping spree on a free day, you laid peacefully in bed, your head safely tucked under Jin's jaw. His hand was lazily drawing circles on your back, slowly as he touched you between small naps that the both of you occasionally got. Your breath was even from the comforting scenery and the fact that not you nor your boyfriend had nowhere to go. You were thanking great heavens for Jin's well earned vacation given by his company. The soft scent of Jin's earthy aroma mixed with the remaining of his always worn fragrance was intoxicating to you, making you feel as if you were flying at the sky during a midnight dream.

"Baby?" you asked quietly, breaking the comfortable silence covering the both of you. The thing with Jin was that you didn't need to be talking or feeling anxious about finding any topics to start a conversation, your mind and heart was at the same ease while being silent. "Hm?" his raspy voice echoed against your ear, this being the only thing audible in the room, "what is it sweetheart?" a small smile appeared on his face, the kind of the ones you loved that were full of comfort and love. "Do you ever think about life?" you looked up to meet his eyes, placing your head against his shoulder. Seokjin made sure to place his arms differently so he'd still be engulfing you in his embrace. "Hm I'm not sure what you mean there" he chuckled lightly while fixing his position against the pillows so he could lock eyes with you. "Do you ever think how life would be if we didn't meet? How the smallest of events actually mean so much to the people we become?" you frowned on your own thoughts. "Hm" he tilted his head slightly, an also puzzled look on his face as he seemed to be thinking about it deeply. It was amazing how he'd always seem to be minding you and your worries no matter how small or stupid they seemed.

"It seems you've thought about it quite well" he humphed, his long fingers twirling the edges of your hair. "I've starting to realize how important this is. For moments like these. Where I can be myself" your grip became a little bit tighter around his torso. Jin turned down to you and smiled once again, sitting up, so his back was against the bed board. Swiftly, he passed his hands under your waist, placing you on his stretched out legs. Your arms naturally found their way around him as your front was against Jin's chest. Quietly, he rocked you just a tiny bit, your cheek squished against his broad chest. "I've been starting to get life more seriously now that I'm with you hm?" he looked down at you as he placed his finger under your chin encouraging you to meet his sight. "I do think of stuff like that sometimes. I don't know how or why, but we ended up together. And I'm so grateful for those series of events. Cause those have changed my life for the better" he said placing a small kiss on your lips, smiling.

"You are indeed the best part of me" you smiled back. "I'm not" Jin nodded negatively, grinning. "Hey" you frowned, pouting. "I don't want you to discredit yourself even a tiny bit. All this awesomeness comes directly from you. I don't play any role. I believe every different people bring out a different version of ourselves. And I'm happy to know that you bring out mine. My love, my darling" "Jin, what you said was so beautiful" you giggled, kissing his cheek. "Do I get more kisses for stuff like these?" he giggled back at your cuteness, before planting one on his own. "Hey, I'm the rewarder here" you playfully told him. "What about a change of roles?" he frowned teasingly before starting to pepper your face with kisses. He was indeed the one. The one for you.

[yoonia]

Ever A Never After: Act 2 (1)

⟶ Chapter Summary | Some say fate can be a cruel thing. Yet you never knew how true it was until fate played a hand in your bad luck. Merely moments before your happily ever after, you are suddenly sent out to a weird place. A different world. You wonder if this is a test from fate to see if you are truly deserving of your happy ending, or if perhaps fate wants to show you something else. Something that fate wishes you to learn before you can finally move on to take the next step towards your happiness.

⟶ Title | Ever a Never After (adaptation from Enchanted movie) ⟶ Pairings | Jungkook x female reader; Seokjin x female reader ⟶ Genre | Strangers to lovers!au, Fairy tale retelling!au, Rom-com ⟶ Word count | 15,410 words ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; slow burn, mentions of curses, black magic, theft, law terms. ⟶ Author’s note | Gosh, this took so long to update, and I’m so sorry for that. Act 2 has expanded way beyond planned, so I had to split this into two (shorter) chapters to make it easier to read and for me to edit. Still, this was roughly edited because I’m currently dealing with a lot of stuff (sick cat, health issues, mental block, etc), but I hope you’ll still enjoy reading this. 

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𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 1. 𝔚𝔢𝔩𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔄𝔩𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡

Is this a dream? 

Am I dreaming?

You have to be dreaming. You are sure of it. Because there could be no other way to explain what is happening now. 

But what exactly happened? 

Just moments ago, you were standing in front of the most exquisite fountain you have ever seen, marvelling at its beauty—the artistic carvings around the pool, the crystal-like water flowing in slow ripples, and the waterfall that seemed to have manifested from the palace’s walls. You had gotten completely enchanted by the sight of the fountain that you were already drowning in it even before you fell straight into it. 

That’s right. I fell into the fountain. But how did I fall? 

Your memory is a bit fuzzy, most likely due to shock. All you can remember is that at one moment, you were standing there, watching the cascading water that appeared like a crystal veil falling into a pool of clear, silvery water, and then the next, you felt like gravity became stilted and you started falling. 

You remember the sound of the water splashing and crashing all around you. And then came the cold. The water felt like ice as it engulfed you, adding weight to your dress as it soaked all over the fabric which was dragging you deeper, bringing you down, and down, with not a sign of you reaching the end of this fall anytime soon. 

Is there really no end to this pool? Where is the bottom? 

It seems odd to think that the pool you have fallen into could be this deep. You are quite sure you could see the bright white marble stone at the bottom of the pool when you were marvelling at the fountain earlier, and it didn’t seem to be this deep. 

But even weirder is the fact that your dress. Despite having been soaked with water earlier, the dress is no longer drenched. Neither is your hair. Your body is dry, even when you still feel cold. Real cold. As if you are being embraced entirely with ice.

All while you are continuously falling. Still falling. With nothing embracing your fall no matter how much time seems to have passed since. 

Turning to look down below, you can only see nothingness. The sight of endless darkness surrounds you from all sides and corners. All except one. Darkness is not the only thing that you see as you fall, as the part of the waterfall you saw at the fountain is here with you; a veil made up of crystal-like water cascading right beside you, an extension of the falling water you saw right before your fall. 

How odd, you wonder, as you try to reach out to it as you continue falling. The waterfall seems to magically continue into the darkness beyond. As if there is no end to it.

Just like how there seems to be no end to your descent. 

This is it, isn’t it? This is the end. You cannot help but wonder, finding no other way except to give in to fate. Instead of panicking and feeling terrified, for some reason, you find calmness. Calm enough to choose to touch the endless waterfall, feeling its icy stream with the tips of your fingers, instead of looking into the dark to embrace your final moment. 

“So beautiful,” you whisper as rainbow colours magically appear in the water at the touch of your fingers. Sparks seem to spread into your skin as the water sprinkles out of the waterfall, splashing gently around your hand. “How lovely, it—oh!” 

All of a sudden, everything comes to a sudden halt. Pain spreads through the side of your body—from your shoulders and down to your hip—as you fall onto a hard surface. Groaning in pain, you make no effort to move. Not until the throbbing ache begins to ebb.

Pressing your palm down, you nearly flinch instead of finding steadiness. The ground beneath you feels as cold as ice. It feels beyond uncomfortable, yet you try to hold the displeasure and push yourself up to sit. 

The first thing you notice as you look around is the way your skirt is splayed widely on the ground. A stark white that glows like moonlight against the dark void that forms the solid ground beneath you which seemed to have manifested out of the darkness. 

The wall of incandescent water is now gone. Only the darkness remains, blending into the midnight-coloured ground going as far as your eyes can see. 

Confusion plagues you. Instead of feeling any hint of fear, you feel somewhat serene. As if the shadow around you has not only swallowed down all the lights, but also your frazzled thoughts. 

And yet your senses are clear. Enough to allow you to see it when the light suddenly appears amongst the endless layer of shadow around you. 

Just like the wall of water which accompanies your fall, this light is filled with tiny sparks, floating in the air like little stars you see in the night sky. Slowly, you begin crawling towards it, worrying that your legs would fail you should you dare to try and rise on your feet.

From up close, you can see clearly that the sparkle of lights is, in fact, not actual stars. They are simply fractures of light filtering through small apertures formed between and around an iron plate that seems to have manifested on the center of the midnight-coloured ground. 

Leaning down, you try to take a peek into where the lights are coming from. Except that the opening is too small for you to see anything clearly. Still, you can hear sounds—steady murmurs with sometimes a few indiscernible shouts echoing through the unseen space beneath you, rapid footsteps and rustles of hard materials crossing the opposite side of the ground, an irregular current of rumbling and wheels that sound larger and heavier than the wheels of horse carriages that you are most accustomed to hearing, and loud horns blaring from every corner. 

Feeling hope clawing in your chest that you may find your exit beyond this iron plate, you sit back up and begin tracing the edges, looking for something to hold. A touch of a small gap on the outer rim of the plate tells you where to place a grip. With the tips of your fingers, you gently press and slip them into the gap, hoping that you can pry it open. 

It takes some effort, but you finally manage to slide the heavy iron plate aside. A strong breeze immediately filters through the opening. A breeze that feels nothing like what you remember back home. 

It feels warm, but with barely a hint of the fresh air filled with the scent of pine and clear water that you are accustomed to. Instead, the air feels dry, mixed in with smoke and dust and a tad smell of must which makes your throat grow tight and you find it hard to breathe. Coughing up, you suddenly feel as if the ground beneath you is tilting over, your body being pulled into the opening by invisible threads. The force is so strong that you cannot fight it, unable to stop your body from submerging into the hole. 

Or, in this case, emerge. 

Because the moment you open your eyes again, you are pulling yourself out of the opening. The world on the other side of the hole seems to be inverted, everything held upside down with gravity pulling you down in the wrong direction. What you had thought to be the bottom turns out to be a bright sky, the sunlight shining so brightly that it hurts your eyes. 

Your legs are trembling when you step out of the hole, your heels almost slipping on the hard ground that is lighter than the ground where you had landed on from your fall, the surface uneven and rugged.

Your body feels stilted as it defies gravity, and it takes some time before you can finally regain your bearings. A struggle made by being instantly overwhelmed with a myriad of sensations coming over you—the air that feels too warm and the sunlight that seems too bright after being stuck in the dark for a long while, the loud noises reverberating in the space around you, and the rush that seems to be happening everywhere you look. 

Where—where am I? What is this place? 

Shaking your head, you wonder if you are simply imagining things or perhaps you are dreaming. Because this place looks nothing like Andalasia. 

The road where you are standing isn’t made of cobblestones and gravel. Instead of trees, you see buildings in various shapes, sizes, and colours. Buildings that seem taller than Castle Andalasia and its towers or even the enigmatic witch tower you had once seen during your trip across the woodlands. 

Some of these buildings are even sparkling under the sunlight, as if they are enchanted with spells and light magic in various colours. With crystals that are covering half of their bodies and lights illuminating even under the bright sun. Lights that appear like stars and rainbows glitter onto the streets below, flashing luminous colours onto the people passing by as if they are blessed with magic. 

And there are so many people around you—walking up and down the road, across the street. Some are rushing in quick footsteps, while others are walking leisurely as they admire the buildings and the bright, colourful lights glimmering from around them. Many are dressed funnily, with only a few wearing dresses and suits like the townspeople of Andalasia who you often met when you were with your grandmother tending her shop downtown. 

But most baffling is the sight of numerous carriages appearing in odd shapes and various flashy colours, all seeming to have been crafted with metal, driving up and down the main road without a single sight of horses pulling them. You watch as some of those metal carriages are stuck before turning to a different road, and the sound of the horns you heard earlier starts blaring all around you. 

What are those things? What kind of magic exists here? 

“Excuse me, Ma’am? You’re not allowed to be here.” 

A deep voice startles you, drawing a squeal out of your lips. Turning around, you see four men coming towards you. Four large men, all of them wearing similar clothing. Chest coverings in the shade of tangerine and sunflowers which look like those vests that knights would wear under their armours, only thinner and frail, barely a protection against threats. And just like some knights you once saw patrolling across the rise around Castle Andalasia, the men are wearing helmets that reflect the sunlight. Except they don’t protect the men’s faces the way they should have, making you wonder if they might be a different type of knights which you had never met before. 

“Ma’am?” One of the men calls out when you fail to answer. But it isn’t his voice that snaps you out of your stunned silence. It is how the man is leaning close to you, looking at you with an odd look on his face—as if you are some kind of a wild creature coming from the forest. 

“I beg your pardon?” Your voice comes out thin. Nearly indiscernible among the loud noises coming from all around you. 

This seems to surprise the strange man as his gaze softens. So does his voice when he points at what appears to be a line of makeshift fence bordering all around you from the busy road. “This spot is closed. See? We’re doing some work in here and you’re in our way.” 

You frantically gaze around, scrutinizing the small things you have failed to take notice of before. Everything is still so confusing and you only end up feeling more lost than ever. Seems like you had emerged in the middle of the road. The metal carriages are driving around you, avoiding the area bordered by the fences circling the spot where you and these men are standing. And it seems that you have garnered some attention, as you watch some people passing by turning to look. 

Another man steps closer while looking wary. “Is there a problem, Miss? Why are you in the middle of the road?” 

“Oh, um—” Taking a deep breath, you muster calmness before looking back at the men again. “Forgive me, Sir. It appears that I have gotten myself lost. Can you please show me the way to return to Andalasia? I must go back before it’s too late. The ceremony should’ve already started by now but here I am, still—”

“Are you lost, Miss? Are you talking about the ceremony that’s happening today?” A different man takes over this time. Unlike the others, he seems to be more even-tempered, calmer as he speaks, and he isn’t treating you as if you a wild thing to be wary of. 

A sigh of relief escapes you as you turn to the third man, finding solace in his presence. “Yes, there’s a ceremony that I must attend, and it’s—” 

You suddenly find it hard to continue, unable to openly share your concerns. 

How ridiculous does it sound? The bride, losing her way to her own wedding?

You clear your throat and force a smile. “You see, I wasn’t sure where to go with no one to guide me and I suppose I took too many turns to get to the venue that I lost my way.” The words come out of you rapidly in a rush before you can stop them, while the men start looking at each other. 

“What ceremony are you talking about?” The first man whispers to the friendly one that you are talking to. 

“There’s a party thing going on the block over. Saw guests coming in dressed up in designer dresses and suits earlier like one of those award things. Much fancier than what she’s wearing,” the third man answers as he points at your wedding dress. 

Joy bursts through your chest at his words. Elegant dresses and suits fancier than your handmade dress can only mean one thing. Surely, he is talking about the nobbles who were invited by the Queen to attend your wedding with the Prince. 

The nicer man of the three looks at you again with a rueful smile. “It isn’t far from here. Do you see those black vans over there? The ones heading down that street?” He points out across the street, where the congested road of metal carriages appears. “Just follow them and you’ll find the venue around the corner. You won’t miss it with all the crowd and paparazzi lining up at the front.” 

You have no idea what some of the words he is telling you mean, yet you barely waste any time considering it when your gaze lands on a group of dark-coloured metal carriages driving past the blockage, drawing attention from the crowd surrounding them. 

Clasping your hands together, you turn to the man and thank him with a bow. “Then I must not waste more time and make haste. Thank you for your help. It’s so kind of you.” 

“Uh, yeah—anytime,” the kind man murmurs absently as he watches you gather your flowy skirt and gracefully turn away to start trudging across the street, following his guide. Barely acknowledging his response when you have your mind busy wondering about those dark carriages and the crowd of people who are watching them go. 

Are those some sort of magic carriages coming for the guests? 

You find this peculiar, yet pleasantly surprising, as the last time you spoke to the Prince, he spoke about not feeling sure about having many guests attending the wedding ceremony.

“Queen Mother might get anxious about the wedding being so rushed. You wouldn’t mind keeping it small, do you? Mother would be able to use magic to announce the wedding to our neighbouring kingdoms and send out invitations, yet who knows how many would be able to travel to Andalasia on such short notice.” 

You still remember that moment—the gentle sway of the horse that the Prince led to walk slower towards your home, the strands of his hair that kept flickering with the breeze, and the flutter rising inside your chest. 

You sighed into his embrace, still finding it hard to believe that it wasn’t a dream. That you were talking with the Prince about your wedding. “I don’t mind. As long as we’re together.” 

Prince Jungkook laughed softly then. “You make me want to rush the wedding further, Princess.” 

The warmth that you felt that day returns just as you remember his smile. So does the flutter in your chest as you think about returning to the Prince so you can marry him. Just as planned. You are lost in the depth of your thoughts as you turn away from the burly men, reminiscing the past that had just ended a day ago—more or less. 

A day that feels like forever as you tread carefully down the road, avoiding the carriages that are speeding across and around you, horns and shouts blowing in the air as they drive past by. 

Everything seems like a white noise, regardless of how foreign the sounds are to you. They all drown even the loud voices of the burly men that you are leaving behind as they are calling out to you from behind. 

“Wait, is she walking? In that dress?” One of the construction workers who had first approached you at the site shouts behind you, baffled as he realises that you are going on foot towards the venue for the movie premier mentioned by his colleague. “Hey, you might want to get an Uber, Miss!” 

“Let her be. She’ll probably get there faster than riding a car with all this traffic,” the only oldest one from the group who didn’t make an effort to speak to you comments from the side, already busy continuing the work that he left behind to grab a bit for lunch earlier. 

The worker who felt sorry enough to help you ponders over his friend’s comment for a moment as he watches you disappearing among the crowd. “Yeah, you're probably right.” he finally says after pushing down the unease boiling inside him. “Did anyone see where she came from?” 

“She was already standing there when I got here,” says the first worker who came back to the renovation site to find you first. He is just about to say something when he suddenly stumbles, barely catching himself from falling when one of his feet slips down into an opening that he failed to notice when he first came in. 

“What the fuck—” he curses under his breath once he realises what had almost made him fall over. “Hey, who opened the goddamn sewer? I could’ve broken my neck!” 

How long has it been? 

How far have I been walking? 

Speech has long left you. Your thoughts are barely coherent as time continues to pass by without fail, and you are still out here, stranded in the middle of a city that you cannot recognise as a part of your home. 

Home feels so far away. 

Especially now that you are starting to believe that you are no longer in Andalasia. Nowhere near enough, that is quite for sure, as there is nothing about this place that comes close to anything that you would normally find back home. 

Hours must have passed since you’ve fallen through the fountain and then emerged in this strange place. Wherever this place is. Hours of walking and getting lost in a giant maze that was way more complex and bewildering than the maze of hedges back in the castle. 

Hours have definitely passed since you looked up to the sky to see the bright sunlight. Warm as it was after having drowned in the cold shadow that brought you here. 

Was it really hours ago when you spoke to those burly men on the road? You wonder to yourself as you look up at the sky, the colours are slowly changing, the white and stark blue in the sky turning warmer as the sun continues to glide lower into the horizon, under the tall buildings that look larger than guard towers. 

The place that the kind man had informed you about hadn’t been a part of the castle. Not at all a part of a royal wedding. But your wishful thinking made you believe that you may have gotten through a different entrance gate leading back to the castle when you saw the glorious sight of noblewomen and noblemen walking down a red carpet into what seemed to be some sort of a ball. 

The dresses you saw were captivating, more stunning than the dresses you saw worn by the ladies of Andalasia. The men wore breathtaking suits, with colours brighter than what you had ever seen before. Some were even adorned with rare jewels that glowed under the lights as the men walked down the same path covered in red carpet. 

You were so enthralled by the sight of them that you didn’t realise being lured to follow them. Stepping closer only led you to be pulled in, drawn into the line of nobbles walking into the venue. 

There were also the forces around you which kept pushing you to them—the crowd of people outside of the venue that seemed to be admiring the stunning nobles entering the venue, the flashing lights coming from every corner, blinding your eyes that you couldn’t see where you were being pulled into, and the guards in suits who kept yelling at you to “Keep moving!” 

It wasn’t until you were at the door that it was finally made clear to you that you were at the wrong place. 

“An—invitation?” You stood by one of the guards who eventually stopped you from going further, baffled when you were suddenly asked for an invitation. 

An invitation, to your own wedding?

“Yes, you’re here for the premiere, aren’t you? We need to see your invitation.” 

“I’m not—” you looked around, panicked. Your voice weakened when you murmured defeatedly, “I’m supposed to be at the wedding.” 

There was something in the guard’s eyes that made your chest clench. A look of pity that you had only once seen from your grandmother when you came home late at night after playing out in the forest too long. 

“This is an invitation-only event, so I’m afraid you’re at the wrong place, Miss.” The man turned to another guard then and said something about helping you find an exit without having to go back through the crowd. Yet you barely paid attention to any of it, too distraught about getting stuck at the wrong place when you were running out of time. 

“Excuse me, Sir. Can you please show me the direction to Castle Andalasia?”

You tried to ask the guard as he was pushing you out of the exit, who no longer had his attention on you as commotion suddenly started rising from where you first came in. “Keep moving, Miss. You shouldn’t be the way,” he only said before rushing away, leaving you lost and clueless at the exit. 

Shaking your head, you try to shut down your thoughts, pushing away the uneasiness that is haunting you and start paying more attention to your surroundings. 

You cannot remember half of the journey that took you here after leaving that place. Nothing but a blur of faces and movements, being pushed around amongst the crowd of people and getting too close to danger when you had to dodge the metal carriages rushing through the streets. 

The only thing reminding you of how far you have travelled through the city to find your way home is the soreness growing on your legs, the blisters you feel forming on your skin from wearing your heels for too long, and there is no doubt your updo is falling apart, held up merely by the pins from the tiara on your head. 

Thinking about your tiara makes you think about your forest friends. You lift your hand to brush against the jewels, reminiscing the sweet moment when your friends helped pin the tiara on top of your head before sending you off for the wedding. 

“Oh, my precious angels. I hope you’re all safe,” you whisper, choking with a sob. You wonder where they are, and wonder if they ever got to the wedding spot safely and met the Prince. They must be worried, once they realised you weren’t at the venue when they got there. 

Picturing their voices saddens you. You miss their cheerful chitters and squeaks, the little teases they often throw at you just to make you smile. You wrap your arms around yourself as you think about them, wishing that they were here with you instead. How different this would have been if you had them around. Their presence would have been wonderful. Even if they would be just as lot as you are now, at least they could have cheered you up so you wouldn’t lose hope. 

Any sliver of hope you had to find your way home was fairly lost some time ago. Even so, you refuse to give up. You cannot give up. It would have been silly for you to simply give up and stop looking for your way home. You are merely lost. The only thing you need is to find the right road to take, and perhaps the right person who would be willing to help you. 

Sighing, you feel your hope dwindling even more as you think about finding help. 

The people here—they aren’t kind. 

Apart from the burly men dressed in bright-coloured vests and oddly shaped knight helmets you met when you first arrived in this strange place, you have yet to find anyone else willing to help, much less to look your way. 

Well, some did. Though not all were interested enough to help, quite a few seemed to make a mockery of your wedding dress or were curious about why you were wearing such a dress in the middle of the city. At least, there were a rare few that tried to help you. At least, you want to believe that they meant well, even when they seemed confused. 

“Excuse me, could you please show me the direction to Castle Andalasia, please?” 

“Excuse me—”

You remember asking, questioning the people you passed by until your voice nearly grew hoarse. And you remember how often you were met with suspicious glances, and wary gazes, before some of the worn doubts faded and they all tried to point you in various directions to go.

“A wedding? I heard wedding bells from the chapel across that garden. That must be where you’re heading?” said one lady with streaks of grey in her hair and a hint of caution in her eyes. 

You nearly ran across the garden that she pointed towards, not even sparing a glance to admire its beauty until you reached a chapel. A place where an actual wedding was happening, only that it wasn’t yours, and you had only stayed for a minute to watch the bride and groom walking down the staircase after sharing their true love’s kiss. 

And then there were those other people who seemed awfully confused with your question when you asked for directions that they spoke with words that had no meaning for you. 

“Castle? What castle you said? This isn’t England, lady.” 

“Is that a new ride in Universal Studio?” 

“No, I’ve never heard of it before.” 

“Is she talking about a movie set? Just point her to the studio. Seems to be wearing the wrong period dress, though.” 

You have lost count of how many places you’ve been to in the day, none of which turned out to be anything close to the castle. How many times you were turned away from buildings and gated properties after following the directions that you were given? How it had only led you to become even more lost, not knowing which way to go? 

And then when you were not being turned away from one direction to the next through those vain instructions, you kept finding yourself being thrust and propelled to a myriad of courses without having any control or sense way to go. It kept going on for a while, until you finally managed to escape, leaving the crowded streets and the busy part of the city behind. 

The road you took to leave the bustling place you’ve been to still bears no sign of it leading towards Andalasia. But at least it is quieter here than the roads you travelled across before. 

The bright and flashy buildings you saw earlier have grown less and less the more you go. Some still look as menacing as the towers of the evil witches of Andalasia, others are standing strong like fortresses with giant luminous paintings attached to their walls. But they grow more scarce as you continue walking, finding more gates and long, unending walls, and trees which stand like massive pillars pointing up to the sky. 

The roads that you have seen so far are wider, longer, all filled with those carriages—most of them in similar sizes, some bigger than most, and there was one which appeared like a giant animal strolling down the road—without horses pulling them forward. The surface is smoother than the gravel-coloured roads winding down between the towns and villages of Andalasia, all painted in a darker shade of colour than the cobblestone roads you saw around the castle. 

As you continue walking, you keep hoping that the roads will suddenly change. To grow smaller in size and change shapes so you can follow them to find your way back to Andalasia. 

And yet, just like how fate hasn’t been on your side today, there is no such luck. 

Your head is pounding. You cannot remember when was the last time you ate or drank anything. You had been so nervous about your wedding that you could barely swallow anything at breakfast. 

Now it seems that the day is growing darker. Time seems to flow faster here than how you remember it back home. The temperature has also dropped. It happened so suddenly that it almost felt like you were once again transported to another place in time. Without having to fall into a fountain this time. 

Hugging yourself isn’t doing much to eliminate the cold, and you begin to regret not listening to your grandmother about covering your dress with a coat when you left home this morning. And your dress is getting heavier the more exhausted you feel. The skirt is dragging by your feet and the hems have gotten soiled after walking so long. 

Rounding the corner, you see a line of benches on the side of the road. Before you realise it, you quicken your pace, desperate to rest even for a moment. 

“Oh, this is great,” you whisper with a sigh of relief once you are rested on the bench. Leaning back, you rest your sore back and shoulders, before stretching out your sore legs. You can feel your muscles growing lax. Even if you are still feeling down in the dumps, drowsiness easily sets in. 

But right before you can allow sleep to take over, you blink your eyes open to the creaking sound of wheels and look up across the street. And then you see her. Covered from head to toe in a dark-coloured cloak, the familiar figure that you saw just hours ago is walking on the other side of the road. Hunched down, the hood of her cloak covers the top of her head but not enough to hide her from sight, and she is focusing more on pushing the metal cart that she has with her to notice you watching. 

The old hag. 

“You—! Wait a moment!” You push yourself up. Getting your legs to start working again is a struggle that you nearly slip on the pavement before you manage to run across the street, catching up to the cloaked figure right before she disappears around the corner. “Please, I have no idea what happened, but you need to bring me back to the castle before—” 

Desperate, you reach out to grab her, to get her to listen, and the cloaked old had abruptly turns to snap at you. “Hey, don’t touch me! What’s your fucking problem?” 

You step back, flinching at the hostility and the stench. “I—” Your words die down when her hood falls back, revealing her true features. Immediately, you can see that you have made a mistake. 

The person before you has a tangled mass of darker hair in the colour of chestnut, with only a few strands of grey and silver appearing from the top of her head, unlike the elder woman you met at the royal garden with silver-moon hair framing her face. From up close, it clears that her cloak is tattered and stained in various places, unlike the old hag’s velvety cloak which appeared slightly fancier despite looking worn out and old. And while this person’s face seems to have been roughened with time, with lines and scars appearing around her eyes and lips, she still looks much younger than the person you have been seeking since you met her last.

Disappointed, you can feel the strains of hope you felt leaving your body. “I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else.” 

The person scowls, giving you a look that reminds you too much of the troll who attacked you the previous day that you wince back. “I should sue you,” she says, her voice lowering to a snarl. 

“What—?”

The hooded woman sneers, showing you her stained, crooked teeth when she chuckles. “Yeah, I’m suing for harassment. I was just walking and minding my own business when you’re trying to mug me.” 

You watch in horror as she points at the pile of things filling up her metal cart, accusing you of thievery. “No, I wasn’t! I told you that I’m sorry—” 

The peculiar woman scoffs, yet her eyes still narrow with suspicions. “All right, fine. Then pay up and I ain’t calling the cops.” 

“I’m—sorry?” 

Once again, the woman snarls at you. She pushes her hand at you, palms facing up. “Pay up, hon. Give me some cash. I know you have some with you.” 

The woman, looking awfully wicked as she smiles at you, scares you so much that you cannot stop yourself from stepping back to avoid her calloused and cracked hand. “But I don’t have any money. No coins. Anything,” you nearly beg her as you grab a hold of your flowy skirt, clenching it tightly to stop your hands from trembling. 

The wicked smile on the woman’s face immediately turns to a frown. “What? You’re telling me you’re dressed all fancy and you got no cash with you?” 

The sharpness in her voice terrifies you. So much so that your hands are no longer the only ones trembling in fear. Your whole body freezes, and your legs start to grow weak as you take another step away from her. Another move and the woman’s gaze moves upward, stopping at your tiara. 

Her sneer returns. “Guess this will do.” 

Her eyes, which appeared pale and dim blue when you first saw her, now begin to glint with a new light. Piercing blue eyes glow under the streetlights as if she is using some kind of magic, distracting you for a brief moment as she suddenly raises her hands to grab your tiara. 

“Wait! No!” You flinch backwards, trying to escape. You let go of your grip on your dress to stop her, but it’s too late. Her grip strengthens on your tiara and she begins to pull. “Don’t do that! Stop!” 

For someone who seems so weathered, the woman is strong. Much stronger compared to your weary self who can barely fight back. With a strong tug, she manages to pull your tiara off of your head, pulling a few strands of your hair with it, while the force she uses pushes you backwards until you fall into a heap of mess—your bottom hitting hard onto the pavement that you can feel your skin bruising underneath, your skirt spreading all around you, catching dirt and soil, while your frail legs are bent beneath your weight. 

“Now this looks nice. I bet I can trade this for some cash,” the woman muses with a wicked chuckle as she turns the tiara back and forth in her hand, giving it a closer look. The glint in her eyes seems to glow brighter, drawing an eerie shudder through your body. She looks at you with the same sneer that she’s been wearing when she says, “Thanks, doll.”

You feel powerless. Too shocked and afraid to move, yet you make another effort to beg her as she turns to leave. 

“No, please don’t take it away! That’s from my—” 

Yet your plea falls on unhearing ears. Before you can muster any strength to push yourself up, she quickly disappears around the corner where it seems to be darker than the streets around you, moving too quickly for your muddled brain to process. 

Your final resolve crumples, sending you back to the ground as you fall on your knees once again. Speechless, you can only look on towards the shadows where the wicked woman had disappeared to with your thoughts running wild. 

A witch. 

There is no doubt about it. That woman was an evil witch. Cold shivers run down your body as fear engulfs you. Wherever this place is, you need to get away as soon as possible. Get away from danger. A place where witches reside cannot be safe. Not for you. 

With trembling hands, you reach up to touch your hair, now left as nothing more but a tangled mess after the witch pulled your tiara off of your head. Your eyes feel hot, and you wonder if it has something to do with a spell that the witch has left you with in her escape. 

But you cannot even dwell on it or think too deeply about it. The heartbreak that you feel in your chest has become too much. Your heart breaks thinking about your forest friends, how disappointed they would be once they find out that you have lost the wedding gift that they had prepared for you. 

But what breaks your heart the most is realising that you can no longer go to your dream wedding looking as pristine as you had initially intended. To be the perfect bride deserving to be standing on the Prince’s side as you finally share your true love’s kiss. 

As your dream shatters to dust, everything you have inside you begins to wane into nothing. Not even your dwindling hope can spark your heart and spirit back alight without any sign of things going back to the way it was supposed to.

“Oh, dear me. What am I going to do now?” 

The pitter-patter sound of raindrops falling on the moving car has never felt so soothing. 

But perhaps this is something that Seokjin needs at the moment, even if it is only to help calm his mind. 

Normally, he wouldn’t have any problem finding calmness once the day has ended. But the day hasn’t been going well for Seokjin. 

The mediation meet-up which had kept him in a bind all afternoon is still stuck in his mind, still weighing him down even as hours have passed. He feels like he can still hear his clients’ voices echoing in his head whenever there is silence or when he closes his eyes, always arguing about the same old thing—over and over again. 

Always going in circles without fail, with no solution made, and with no party involved ever willing to back down. And every time the memory comes, he can hear his boss’ voice—one of the partners leading the law firm where he works at—advising him to quickly solve the issue and move on to the next case. 

He feels drained and spent just thinking about it again, and he is already dreading the thought of having to deal with them again tomorrow, their last meeting was left with some unfinished business that still needs to be resolved. But it wasn’t like he had any other choice about how he left things behind. He did have to cut the meeting short, lest he wanted to stay all night at the office, being confined in the same room with those same clients. 

And he did have something more urgent to get to. 

His daughter’s dance recital. 

Looking up from his phone, Seokjin turns to his baby girl. A smile voluntarily makes its way to his face as he watches her humming to herself, replacing the scowl that he has been wearing almost all evening. 

“You look scary, Daddy,” Ah-ri had said to him the first time he came to pick her up this late afternoon to help her get ready for her recital, wearing that same scowl on his face. Those simple words had worked like a charm, reminding him to leave all the stress and troubles behind whenever he was spending his time with his little girl. 

“Sorry, Princess. Just a little tired from work, but I’m excited to see you dance,” Seokjin had said in return, showing a smile instead of a frown, drawing Ah-ri’s own smile and her excitement back on. 

Seokjin is quite relieved that he made it to the event on time, and had even made it to stick with her before so he could calm her nerves before she got on stage. Being there for Ah-ri for her performance had become the perfect reprieve that Seokjin had needed the most. It was the perfect escape from the troubles that had been haunting him, and watching her shine on the stage had helped him forget about the noises and the dreadful thoughts over the case that he was dealing with all day.

And his daughter was magnificent. He might be biased, but Seokjin believes his little girl was the best dancer to perform tonight. He was so proud of her that he was beaming with pride by the time he walked out of the venue with Ah-ri by his side. 

The only thing stopping him from carrying his little princess and parading him among the other parents there had come to the show was her fancy tutu dress. The girl had been so proud of her dancing costume that he knew she wouldn’t have allowed him to do anything to ruin the delicate ruffles that she spent hours making sure would flare prettily when she was dancing. 

If only the night’s event hadn’t highlighted another problem that was lying in wait for Seokjin to take notice of. 

Once again, his eyes return to the phone in his hand. 

At the screen that has gone unchanging over the past few hours. The texts that were left unanswered, ignored, and most undeniably, unread. 

‘Where are you?’

‘Why are you not picking up the phone?’

‘I thought you said you wanted to come to Ari’s recital? The show’s about to start in 10 minutes.’

‘I’m not going to wait for you. I’m going in. It’s starting and I have the ticket with me.’ 

Reading through the messages makes him cringe. He never thought that he would turn out to be that kind of person. The kind of partner that would bombard their other half with texts when there had been no news from them.

But this was Ah-ri’s big day. And when it comes to his daughter’s happiness and joy, Seokjin will always be willing to put aside his ego. Even at the risk of fracturing the fragile relationship that he has built with Kira for the past few years. 

Seokjin exhales a deep, resigned sigh as he recalls seeing Ah-ri’s hollow gaze the moment she first realised that he had come alone. A part of him was convinced that she was just as disappointed as he was for his girlfriend’s absence, but there was a small voice in his head telling him that the little girl had never harboured any hope that Kira was ever going to come. 

And that only makes him feel even worse. 

“Are you still busy with work, Daddy?” Ah-ri asks him with a small voice. When Seokjin turns to look a this little girl and sees the pout forming on her lips, he knows he’s messing up the mood. 

Forcing his frown away, he smiles at his baby girl and ruffles her hair teasingly. “No, honey. Daddy’s just reading some texts that came in while you were dancing. I was so happy to see you up on the stage and was so busy taking videos of you that there were some messages I missed.”

“Oh, okay,” she says, nodding, and Seokjin has to bite back a smile. Sometimes, she can look like she’s trying to act like a big girl when she does this. At least she’s no longer pouting. “But you’re not working again tonight, are you?” 

He shakes his head. “No, of course, not. No more work tonight. Didn’t we promise to read some storybook tonight?” 

Reminded of his promise, and perhaps already thinking about her Daddy sticking around to read her favourite stories before bedtime, her smile grows so wide that Seokjin’s chest expands with warmth. “That’s right. We did,” she says, a bit more cheerfully this time.

“Let Daddy read some of the missed texts while there’s a chance to, okay? You should rest until we’re home,” he says, to which the little girl nods her head again. 

“Okay,” she muses, and her attention is quickly drawn towards the car window. “The rain is stopping.” 

Seokjin looks up and nods. “Oh, you’re right. Good thing that we’re almost home so we don’t have to be wet,” he murmurs with a grim smile. 

Funny weather today, he wonders, as he thinks about the rain. 

The sudden drizzle that came right when they were leaving the venue only added today’s peculiarity. It was a relief that Seokjin—who was too exhausted after work to drive his own car—had the mind of ordering an Uber for them before they got all wet. And now there is nothing that he wants more than to get home, get warm and comfy, and rest for the night. 

As Ah-ri begins singing the song that she was dancing to in her performance, Seokjin finds himself drawn back to his damn phone. For a brief moment, he starts debating whether he should send another message, before realising that he might sound desperate, or perhaps seen like an obsessed stalker. 

I’m too tired to deal with this, he wonders with a sigh as he locks his phone and then puts the thing away as he leans back in the seat. He takes this moment to close his eyes and stop himself from overthinking so he can relax. 

A moment passes, when the Uber turns into the usual route heading towards his home—one that he has gone through so many times he can recognise it even without looking—and Ah-ri’s soft humming suddenly fades. The car pulls to a halt at a stop sign, allowing another vehicle through, as Ah-ri starts nudging at her Dad. 

“Daddy, there’s a princess on the billboard.” 

Seokjin hums. “A what?” 

“A princess!” Ah-ri excitedly cheers. 

“There’s no princess, sweetheart. They make realistic advertisements nowadays that make pictures look more real. You know, like those 3D billboards I showed you once with the characters jumping out into the crowd, remember?” 

“No, Daddy. It’s a real princess!” Ah-ri stubbornly starts shouting as the car shifts to move again, “No, mister! Stop! Don’t go!” 

Seokjin opens his eyes when the car jerks, the driver hitting the brakes out of shock. He still has his eyes on the front of the car that he isn’t ready when Ah-ri suddenly unlocks her side of the door and jumps out. 

“What the—” 

“Sir, your daughter—” 

“Yes, I know. I’m so sorry about this. Can you please wait for a minute?” 

Seokjin already has one foot out the door when the driver swiftly responds, “Sure, I’ll park the car and get out of the road first.”

“Thank you!” Shutting the door behind him, Seokjin looks across the road, his heart nearly dropping when he sees Ah-ri already halfway there. Breathless and mind-filled with fear, he chases his daughter, calling her out and quickly grabbing her shoulders once he catches up with her. “Ari, what are you doing? Get back in the car!” 

“No, Daddy. Look, there’s a princess up there!” she stubbornly fights against him while pointing up above. 

“That’s not real, honey. Look, see? It’s nothing but—holy shit!” 

Seokjin didn’t know what to expect when he looked up, following where Ah-ri was pointing at. Maybe a part of him did expect to see those modern types of billboards with the 3D effects where the characters were made to reach out of the screen—which was what he had in mind when he mentioned it to his daughter earlier—even though he has no clue why anyone would put such a modernised advertisement on a quiet road like this one, where there are only old, low-level apartments in the neighbourhood. 

But the moment he looks up, all he sees is a billboard in the form of a 3D castle promoting a new live-action movie based on a children's fairytale story releasing on an online streaming channel this month. He has seen it a few times whenever he was driving down this road on his way to work, and he knows for sure that it never had any additional feature put up with it. 

And somehow, he sees a woman wearing a white dress standing in front of the replica of the castle from the movie. Doing God knows what. With heels that cannot possibly steady enough to help her balance on the small ledge she is standing on. 

Is she actually knocking at the castle’s door right now? 

“See, Daddy? It’s a real princess!” Ah-ri starts shouting excitedly, pointing at the woman on the billboard before she realises, “Daddy, you said a bad word.” 

Clearing his throat, Seokjin gently presses his hand on his daughter’s back to guide her back to the car. “Sweetheart, go back in the car. Let me deal with this and get back to you, okay?” 

He can feel that Ah-ri is holding back, refusing to leave. The girl has always loved her princess stories and this situation isn’t helping. Seokjin takes one look over his shoulder, noticing that the Uber driver has moved the car to this side of the road, so his daughter wouldn’t have to run across. 

The driver steps out of the car, gently calling out, “You want me to call the cops, sir?” 

Ah-ri’s eyes immediately grow wide in panic, so Seokjin quickly waves his hand. “I don’t think that’s necessary for now. Please help my kid back to the car, will you?” 

Seeing the driver stepping up to help watch his daughter, keeping her at a safe distance, Seokjin cautiously approaches the billboard to try and talk the odd woman—whom his daughter keeps calling ‘a princess’—down from that slippery ledge. 

“Excuse me!” he calls out, though he is doing his best to keep calm, not wanting to startle or frighten her with his voice, when all he wants is to make sure that he can help before things get awry. “Hello? Miss? What are you doing? Is everything okay?” 

Despite his effort, the woman—you—is still startled at the sound of his voice. Seokjin only realises that the white dress is a wedding dress when you turn—too sharply, which causes Seokjin to flinch—and start glancing around before finding him below. Your eyes widen with relief when you see him. 

“Oh, oh! Thank goodness. I was wondering if you could—oh!”

Seokjin’s heart drops when he sees you inching forward on the ledge, your eyes looking straight at him instead of paying attention to where you are stepping on, not realising that you have reached the edge. 

“Hey, watch it—” 

Seokjin tries to warn you, only that he is too late. He doesn’t even think or realise what he is doing. As if on instinct, his body simply moves on its own, drawn towards you just as one of your feet slips over the edge and your body tilts forward before you fall from the staggering height. 

Straight into the Seokjin’s waiting arms. 

A deep, resounding grunt vibrates from around you. Yet your mind is spinning, still reeling over the series of events that have happened in the course of—a minute? Hour? No, not an hour. Oh, why does it matter?  

You close your eyes when your head starts spinning even faster. Thinking hard does not seem to be advisable to do at the moment. Oddly enough, closing your eyes makes you feel slightly better. And it helps that you are surrounded by warmth. The kind of warmth that feels comforting, like a warm hug, accompanied by a delicate yet fresh scent of wood and musk and a hint of something sweet. 

Wait. A hug? 

Your eyes snap open when you realise that you are, in fact, engulfed by a strong pair of strong arms wrapping themselves around you to keep you from falling to the ground. Confused, you are lost to what is happening. And when you try to look up, your saviour’s face is shrouded by shadows. The light coming from above is too bright, and all you can see is the lines of his face. The short strands of hair falling from his face look like a curtain as he looks down, keeping his eyes on your face, yet it frames his face perfectly. 

For a hazy moment, your mind makes you believe that you were once again saved by Prince Jungkook. That he had somehow found you and caught up to get you. 

But then you blink, clearing your mind with it, just as your eyes start to adjust to the play of lights. The lines on his face becomes clearer, and then his eyes—the pair of beautiful eyes that are looking at you with fear, concern, and wonder—become visible to yours. And then you quickly realise that the person, your saviour, no matter how good-looking he is, is not the Prince. 

The moment everything truly registers through your muddled mind, your eyes grow wide and your body grows rigid, before you start apologising. 

“Oh, heavens! I am so sorry,” you gasp aloud, your cheeks burning with shame as you try to push away from the man and stand on your own two legs. 

Yet the man’s hold around you is sturdy, and instead of releasing you and letting you fall, he gently lowers you back on your feet. His hands remain on your upper arms for a brief moment to keep you steady before he finally lets go and takes a step back. 

“Are you all right? Is everything good?” the stranger begins questioning you, his eyes going down the skirt of your dress as he speaks and then lingers. A crease forms between his eyebrows when he notices the tattered hem of your skirt, and how badly soiled the fabric has gotten. His gaze rises back to your face again as he asks, “Are you hurt somewhere?” 

Clutching at your skirt, feeling like you want to hide inside it, you try to recall what had happened. You had gotten quite lost in your confusion and exhaustion and were trying to find any sign that might show you the way home when suddenly, this small castle appeared before your eyes, perched atop some kind of a tower. Thinking that it might have been some piece of a totem, a magical item that might be able to take you home, you climbed on top of the tower to open the gate, only to find that it was locked. Desperate, you began banging on the door, hoping that someone on the other side would hear your call for help and open the door for you so you could come home. 

Then you heard a voice. Your prayers were heard. Until you quickly realised that the voice had been coming from under the tower instead of from within the castle. 

You were so surprised and so excited to finally see someone again after a long, quiet walk through this darker part of the city that you tried to get closer to him without realising it. When the man began to speak with you, you didn’t realise that you were beginning to inch forward as you responded to him, not noticing that you were stepping towards the end of the ledge until you began tilting and falling over. 

You really need to stop falling. 

“Are you lost, Miss?” the kind stranger asks you, full of concern, while helping to keep you steady on your feet with his gentle hold on your elbow before you start to fall back. Again. 

And the help is completely welcome, as your legs keep failing you. Your exhaustion is giving you a hard time to hold the weight of your wedding dress that has grown soiled and torn in some places. But you cannot find it in you to focus on your tattered dress right now, as the stranger in front of you seems like the light shining bright in the darkness. 

A beacon of hope, whose presence alone is enough to eliminate every angst and distress that you have been feeling all day long. And it is enough to bring back your faith in all goodness. 

The kind of goodness which reminds you of home. 

“Yes! Yes, I am,” you answer him kindly with a smile on your face. You breathe a sigh of relief. Finally, there is someone willing to listen and care enough to help you. “I need to find my way back to the castle.” 

He stills. Glancing back and forth between you and the small-sized castle standing behind you, he carefully asks, “What castle? And what were you doing up there, endangering yourself? You could’ve hurt someone. You could’ve gotten hurt!” 

“What do you mean ‘what castle’? Why, of course, I’m talking about Andalasia.” A bubbling laughter leaves your lips. “I tried to knock on the front gate, but nobody answered. Maybe because it’s late? But I also have no clue if the totem only answers to a certain spell.” You stop with a deep exhale of breath when you realise that you wouldn’t know of any spell cast on the castle since you are not a royal born. 

Shaking your head, you turn to the man again. “Would you please kindly show me the way to get back to the castle, I’ll be more than grateful—”

“Huh, right,” he gently cuts you off with an odd expression on his face. "Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?” His eyes flicker briefly to the top of your head, where your tiara used to be. “Do you have your phone? Is there someone you can call, maybe?" 

"A phone? What is that?" you ask, and his eyes grow wide, as if you had just said something so staggering it leaves him nearly speechless. "And I don't think anyone will hear me from all the way here if I call them, don't you think?" 

"Ookay—" The stranger reaches into his suit jacket as if trying to pull something out of it. “Where is the address? Why don’t I just call you an Uber?”

“Uber?” You tilt your head, confused. You have never heard of the name before. “Is that the name of your horse?” you ask with a soft gasp, recalling that the gentlemen that you have met back in Andalasia tend to name their horses with peculiar names and titles to differentiate them from one another. 

Just like how Prince Jungkook named his white steed Onyx—which reminds you of the gemstone similar to the one your grandmother kept in her drawers back home. 

A slight pinch of sadness arises inside your chest at the thought of home—of your grandmother, the Prince, and the quaint wooden cabin taking lone residence at the heart of Amaranth Forest. Oh, how wonderful it would have been to be on your comfortable bed, tucked beneath the fuzzy blanket that your grandmother had made for you, and wearing a simpler slip of a dress that would not be pulling down your weight each time you move around. 

“But, Daddy—we have an Uber!” A small voice suddenly speaks. You turn to look over behind the stranger to see a little girl popping out of the shadow. Wearing a tutu dress in pink that matches her tiny shoes and feather headpiece, she looks like a little pixie with her cheeks blushing in the cold, almost to the same colours as her fluffy skirt. 

“Ari, I told you not to leave the car,” the man gently scolds the little girl while pushing her back. 

“Oh, hello sweetheart. I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there,” you greet her with a smile, which seems to make her happy. Because both her eyes and her smile light up almost as bright as the lights flashing from the castle behind you. 

“Hello,” the girl shyly greets you back. Her voice is soft when she suddenly asks you, “Are—are you a princess?” 

Laughing softly, you bend down a little to get to her height. “Oh, no. I’m not a princess. My name is _______,” you offer your hand as you introduce yourself. “What’s yours?” 

The girl glances at the man briefly before taking your hand and gingerly shaking it. “I’m Ah-ri, but I also go by Ari so that my friends won’t have trouble saying my name.” 

Smiling, your friends come to mind. You miss listening to them singing your name as they play around with you back home. “My friends also have a special name for me. It’s Blossom.” Your throat feels tight just thinking about them, but you try to push it down. “Which name do you feel comfortable the most with?” 

The little girl’s smile widens. “I love it when my close friends, Daddy, and Grandma call me Ari,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ear with a shy smile. “You look like a princess.” 

Eyes growing wide, it takes you a moment to understand what she means. “Oh, it must be the dress. I mean, it would’ve been even better if I still had my tiara.” 

Ah-ri gasps. “You have a tiara?” 

Immediately, your heart is filled with sadness as you recall the unfortunate incident with the wicked witch. “Not anymore, I’m afraid. Someone took it from me while I was looking for my way home,” you answer with a sad sigh, your eyes tearing up for the loss of your precious tiara. 

Hearing this, your kind saviour’s eyes grow wide. He seems startled and wary, and begins glancing around, pulling the little girl back so he can hold her safely by his side. “You were robbed? Here?” he asks, sounding alarmed. 

“Well—” Frowning, you look around as you begin to explain that it had happened a while ago. And not exactly here, wherever here is. 

“Fucking hell—” you hear him say with a low tone of voice before you can say anything. You have no idea what he means, but it sounds really bad, as Ah-ri immediately turns to chide him. 

“Daddy, you said a bad word.” 

At the sound of her voice, the man closes his eyes and murmurs a quick apology. “I’m so sorry. Listen, Honey, you need to get back to the car. I’m going to try and call an Uber for, uh—the nice lady,” he says, pointing at you, while the girl furrows her brows, looking confused. 

“With your phone? But we ordered our Uber with that earlier,” she says to her father. 

“Damn it, you’re right,” he says in return, quickly stopping to mutter, “Oh, fuck.” The little girl crosses her arms as she glares at her father, who later bends down to kiss her forehead. “I’m sorry, baby. Fine, let me just find a way to call for help.” 

You watch as the man reaches into the inside of his suit—an odd looking suit which seems so simple but quite elegant, without any jewels or golden embroideries or intricately made lining, yet still nice to look at—and pulls out a small black box in his hand which lights up at the touch of his fingers. 

“What is that?” You gasp, “Oh, is that a magic talisman?” 

The man looks at you with a million questions in his eyes. “A magic—what?” 

Seeing that the man carries with him a magic item, no matter how small and simple it seems, you begin to feel hopeful. Finally, you will be able to go home. His magic talisman will be able to lead you back to Andalasia, as long as he says the right spell. 

But why does it seem like he doesn’t understand what you are saying, even when he is holding the magic talisman in his hand? 

Do they call their magic items with a different names? 

“A talisman,” you try to explain the best you can, “It’s a type of magic items that sorcerers and mages would use to conjure their spells. I must admit, I’ve rarely seen them my whole life. Almost never. But I’ve heard stories of witches who use mirrors to communicate with others or see visions from other places to help them predict the future.” You look up at him with hope blooming inside you. “Are you perhaps a mage, or a warlock?”

The man, who has been looking confused the entire time he was listening to you ramble, only seems even more confused. But then he looks down, following your gaze, before asking, “Are you talking about”—the man lifts his hand to show you the square item that he is holding—”this?”

You clap your hands together. “Yes, it’s just like that one. So is it a magic mirror? Did you create a small one to carry with you everywhere you go?”  

Ah-ri suddenly gasps. “Oh, I know! Magic mirrors! Just like the evil Queen in Snow White!” 

Pressing your palm over your heart, you are overcome with joy as you finally hear a familiar name being mentioned here in the strange land. “You know Snow White too?” 

“Yes, I do!” Ah-ri says with a voice filled with joy. She turns to her father, looking as if she wants to share that joy when she says, “Daddy, she knows Snow White!” 

The man grimly nods. “Everyone knows Snow White, honey. There are a ton of movies made for the story.” 

You tilt your head. “What’s a movie?” 

The man seems surprised when he hears you. As if he wasn’t prepared to hear such an odd question. “I’m sorry. Do you have somewhere to stay tonight? Are you staying anywhere nearby?” 

Being reminded that you are still lost, the pain inside your chest grows back to its full size. “I, uh—” 

Before you can even think of what to say, Ah-ri slips between the two of you and begins tugging and her father’s hand. 

“Daddy, the princess needs our help, and the Uber is waiting,” she says, to which her father looks between you, his daughter, and a figure that you only now notice standing on the side of the road, where lights cannot fully reach him, with a black metal carriage parked right beside him. 

“Please, Daddy?” Ah-ri asks again, while her father looks conflicted and stunned into a complete silence. 

Seokjin closes his eyes and groans, wondering to himself how on earth he managed to get into this situation. 

But there really is no escape from it now. The look that his daughter is giving him says so. 

“Daddy?” Ah-ri calls out again, pouting, and Seokjin feels powerless against it.

“Okay, baby,” he sighs. “We’ll get the Princess some help. Let me see if we can find a way to get her home. Maybe if we—” 

Seokjin looks down on his phone to find a way to get help, maybe call someone from his office, and curses under his breath when the blasted thing beeps, twice, before the screen shuts down. Having to rush from the office gave him no chance to charge his phone before going to Ah-ri’s event, and all the texting he did and checking where the hell his girlfriend was had probably drained its battery. 

“Fuck—” he snaps, quickly reeling back when he realises and glancing at Ah-ri. “Sorry, baby.” 

Pouting, the little girl crosses her arms over her chest and scolds him gently. “No more bad words, Daddy. It’s not polite to do it in front of the Princess.” 

“I know, honey—” 

While he is trying his best to keep himself together against the inner battle he is having, everything starts to fall apart at once. Right the moment his cell phone blips its last life, the rain suddenly starts again. No longer the simple drizzle wetting the road around him but a light shower that will no doubt start to pick up within seconds. Drenching them all if they stay here even a minute longer. 

“Daddy…it’s raining again!” 

Ah-ri’s panicked voice snaps his mind back into gear. Regaining his focus back allows Seokjin to see his daughter trying to cover her head from the rain, but the stubborn girl refuses to run back to the car. He has no doubt that it’s because she is worrying about this odd woman standing in front of them. 

Glancing over his shoulder, he sees the Uber driver rushing into his car. Within seconds, the driver begins reversing the car to get closer, as if making sure that they won’t have to run through the rain—again—to get back in the car. 

Seokjin looks at you again, still wary about your presence. In his eyes, you are a stranger lost in the big city, with a dress that has been completely ruined and tattered that he cannot imagine you going around on the streets like this when the sun is out. Especially not here in this part of the city. 

He had first thought that you might have been drunk, which would explain why you seemed confused and were doing something so dumb. Like knocking at a miniature of a castle that is a part of a billboard ad promoting a movie. But then you kept looking confused and lost to everything that he said. 

With no sign of being drunk or delusional, and a reaction that looked almost genuine each time you questioned him about the things you didn’t seem to understand, his heart feels heavy about leaving you be. 

The rain picks up, and you seem to be wrapping your arms around yourself tighter. Your body shivers under your soaking dress, and yet your smile doesn’t seem to waver—something that Seokjin isn’t used to seeing from the people that he has ever met before. And he can clearly see how pale you have gotten. The way you are slightly swaying on your feet also worries him. As if you are about to collapse on the street any second now if he doesn’t do something to help.  

“Why don’t you come with us,” he says under the rain, surprising both himself and Ah-ri with the offer. 

He isn’t the kind of person who would easily offer this kind of help to a random stranger he meets on the street. And yet the moment the words slip out of his lips, he has a feeling that he is doing the right thing. 

“It’ll take around ten to fifteen minutes to get to our house, but it will be a lot better than staying out in the rain like this,” he says, mustering a smile even when he still feels hesitant. The thought of taking you—a complete stranger with a situation that is lost on him—back to his home seems unnerving. 

But what other choice does he have at the moment? 

“Once we’re there, I can lend you some fresh clothes and get you warmed up, and then I’ll try to order another Uber for you. Maybe I can pay the Uber driver taking us home some extra cash to take you to where you want to go. What do you say?” 

As it turns out, the driver refuses to accept any money from Seokjin to send you away once he is done with his previous order.

However, that doesn’t mean that the driver simply chooses to immediately leave and not get involved. 

“This place isn’t safe for that poor girl when it’s nighttime. If you have enough sense and goodness in you, you best open up your door for the night, at least. I know bad people, and she doesn’t have the looks for it,” the driver says, right after he blatantly said no to Seokjin’s request even when he was offered double the payment he was charged with for his trip home. 

“Though I can be wrong, so you keep your baby girl away from her until you’re sure she’s safe to be around,” the driver adds, as he glances over Seokjin’s shoulder. Seokjin turns to do the same, watching as your back disappears into the side patio, following his little girl who is still chattering about princesses and pretty dresses while guiding you towards the entrance door of your home. 

When Seokjin turns back to the driver, he sees the man—who he only realises now to be somewhat older, with greying hair and a wise look in his eyes that helps calm Seokjin—rummaging through the dashboard compartment before handing him a card. “A friend of mine runs a shelter that houses people like her. You can call them up in the morning and get her to stay there if you still can’t find where she lives. They might be able to contact her family.” 

Circumstances being as they are, Seokjin decides not to argue with the man and let him drive away, though not before he expresses his gratitude for the advice he was given and the business card in his hand. Seokjin stands at the driveway of his home for a moment longer instead of rushing in, watching the Uber drive away until the taillights fade at the end of the road. He embraces the silence, finding solitude in the lack of sound against the voices inside his head. 

Nothing but the sound of the rushing waves hitting the beachside coming from a distance away. 

He breathes in the cool night air, wishing that he is somewhere far from this place instead. A different place where the air isn’t so polluted and where he wouldn’t have to worry about stressful client meetings, missing girlfriends, and saving damsels. 

Thinking about this makes him want to laugh. It was the same thought that he had years ago which made him decide to buy a property here in the first place; in a neighbourhood closer to the Venice beach instead of at the heart of downtown Los Angeles like many others working in his field would to get closer to work. 

He wanted something different, away from the bustling city lifestyle and the traffic, and other things that would have made him feel miserable while still experiencing the best of things from the city. He expected that it would allow him to have some peaceful moments like this whenever he needed it. It was everything that he wished to have when he was cramped up in the studio loft back when he was still living in downtown LA while finishing law school.

And now, he is suddenly looking for something different. Something more. Something that might help silence the chaos happening inside his head. 

“Daddy…! You need to open the door!” Ah-ri’s voice echoes from the side patio, and Seokjin quickly brushes his thoughts away. 

With a deep inhale of breath, he regains calmness and turns. The business card for the shelter—said to be safe and open for the homeless and women in need of assistance—is now safely secured in his pocket as he walks into his home, joining his chatty girl and the unexpected guest he is welcoming home. 

After connecting his phone to its charger in his home office and leaving his daughter in his bedroom, Seokjin makes his way back downstairs to the living room to find you. 

He sees you sitting on the settee by the window, looking far out into the night. With your dress spread across the side of the seat and your hair falling loose from the twisted bun, you do look like someone who had just come out of one of his daughter’s storybooks. 

Instead of letting you know that he is there, Seokjin stops on the final steps of the staircase, watching you. Mesmerised, he is lost for words. 

Because right here, sitting with your eyes looking out the night sky and the lights sparkling across the canal, you seem—peaceful. Unlike before, when you were in complete distress and exhaustion was written all over your face. And for some reason, Seokjin wants to savour this moment. Not knowing the reason why. 

But then a soft sound of a sigh, followed by the rise and fall of your chest, breaks the moment, snapping him out of his daze. 

Clearing his throat, he makes the rest of his way down and slowly walks up to you. “Hey, there,” he gently says, trying his best not to startle you. A smile comes to his face when you look over with a small, tired smile. “I’m sorry for making you wait. Ari kept trying to talk to me before I could leave her.” 

You nod. “It’s fine.” Once again, you glance out the window. From up close, your face seems to light up. The bright lights coming from outside are reflecting on your face. “The view here is lovely.” 

“It is,” Seokjin muses, following your gaze, realising only now how rare it has been lately for him to enjoy a serene moment such as this one—the way you are able to find solitude in your darkest hours. “So, um,” he says, shaking his head. “______, was it? Or should I call you Blossom?” 

You turn to smile at him again. “Just ______ will be just fine.” 

“I didn’t get the chance to introduce myself earlier with all the frenzies,” he says while mustering a smile. To his relief, he can see your shoulders slumping, growing slightly more relaxed in his presence now compared to earlier, and it’s surprisingly making him feel calmer at the same time. 

”My name is Seokjin, but feel free to call me Jin. And as my daughter has cleverly introduced herself earlier, her name is Ah-ri,” he adds, with a deeper smile on his face as he talks about his baby girl. “Or Ari. That’s the nickname that she uses since her mother always calls her that way. Perhaps you can ask her again next time which name she’ll be comfortable for you to call her with.” 

“I’ll be sure to ask,” you answer with a warm smile, and it thaws his frozen heart a little bit more when your voice softens at the thought of his daughter.  

“Listen. My phone is charging right now,” Seokjin begins to explain as he sits on the ottoman right across from you. Keeping both of his arms resting on his knees, he bends forward, putting on the same mask that he usually wears when he has to sit at the center of a mediation during the toughest cases that he ever had to deal with. “I tried to search on the internet about this place you mentioned earlier, Andalasia, but I can’t seem to find it anywhere. Are you sure you can’t remember where you came from, or how you got here?” 

Your brows are furrowed deeply as you slowly shake your head. “Everything seems so fuzzy.” 

Seokjin nods his head. “And you have no one to call.” 

A wry smile appears on your face as you shrug a little at him. “I told you, it’ll be too far for anyone to hear me.” 

Once again, he grimaces, knowing that this is going nowhere. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Seokjin counts to three before speaking again, hoping that he can swallow down his frustration so he can find a way to solve your problem. 

Hopefully, before it becomes his.  

“Look, my daughter is worried and you looked lost, so I’m not sure if I can let you go out like”—Seokjin releases a sigh—”this.” 

He tries hard to hold back his grimace and fails. Yet the smile on your face remains, which only makes him feel more guilty as he watches you, looking like a lost little dove, engulfed in a fancy wedding dress that looks like the ones painted in his daughter’s storybooks. 

“We need to work to find a way back to your home. Isn’t that what you want?” he asks, and you eagerly nod your head. “About tonight, do you really have nowhere to stay?” 

“No, I—” you begin to answer, “I don’t even know where I am.” Swallowing hard, you look out the window again to look far in the distance. Across the walkway that lines up starting from Seokjin’s house towards the spread of white that is barely visible from this part of the neighbourhood. “That is a beach, right? And beyond is the ocean?” 

Seokjin furrows his brows. “Yes, that’s right.” 

Nodding, you give him a somber smile. “Our small house is far from the coastline. It would have taken days, maybe weeks to get to the ocean. Perhaps it would have been different if we owned a carriage,” you stop with a soft chuckle before adding, “Or a horse.” 

Seokjin raises his brows, realising that you are sharing a little bit of details about your home and where you came from, answering his questions. Only hearing it doesn’t seem to solve anything. Even knowing that you are not from anywhere near the beach shows what a slim chance it would be for you to come from somewhere close to the neighbourhood. 

He doubts that you are even from the same city. 

“There’s a hotel nearby. It’s good and clean, and not too expensive,” he starts, hoping that he can avoid letting you stay here, regardless of how badly Ah-ri had wanted to let you stay just to make sure you would be safe for the night. But it only takes a moment for him to get a closer look at you and quickly notice that you have no other belongings with you aside from the clothes on your skin. “I don’t suppose you have any money with you?” 

“Money?” You ask as your hands reach down, nervously clutching at the skirt of your dress, “Well, uh—” A grim smile comes to your face as you continue, “You see, I was supposed to get married today, and this dress doesn’t really have pockets in it. I also didn’t think about taking a purse with me since I was, you know—my hand would’ve had to hold a bouquet of flowers when I walked down the aisle.” 

You suck a deep breath at the implication that your situation had involved a wedding, and Seokjin has no idea why the sound you make pierces straight deeply into his chest. Then you make it worse when you speak with an innocent, helpless voice of yours, “Anyway, you are right, Sir. I don’t have anything with me. I left all my gold coins back home, since I thought I wouldn’t be needing it today with the wedding ceremony and all.” 

Again, dread fills his chest. “Gold coins,” he groans under his breath with a grimace. He closes his eyes, trying to find that sense of calmness deep inside him once again before it slips away. “All right. Breathe.” 

Seokjin takes a deep breath as he begins thinking, trying to decide what would be the right thing for him to do. Right at that moment, the words given to him by the Uber driver return to him, removing any doubt that he still has about letting you stay. Looking at you, he realises that the man had been right about one thing. 

Seokjin may not know or understand what kind of situation you are in, and all the things that you have been saying sound too ludicrous to be true. But each time, you seem genuine. Nothing that you said and done feels like an act to make a fool out of him or filled with nefarious intent. 

And he genuinely doesn’t think he has it in his heart to let you go anywhere when you seem so helpless. 

“I guess since it’s late anyway and, well—” He grins. “My daughter might get upset if I let you be on your own when you’re, um—confused.” Rising to his feet, he offers you a hand to help you up and says, “We don’t have a lot of guests, so we only have one guest bedroom. It’s small, but I hope it’ll be adequate for you to have some good rest for the night. What do you say?” 

Smiling with relief, you nod and take his hand. “That would be lovely.” 

Seokjin feels awkward holding your hand as he guides you upstairs to the guest bedroom. Yet he is glad that he even thought about offering because you keep swaying on your feet as you walk by his side, as if your body is ready to give up anytime soon. By the time he reaches the bedroom, he almost finds it hard to let go of your hand just to be able to open the door for you. 

“Here it is. Ah-ri, my daughter, loves to hang out here when I’m not home since it has a good view, so we change the sheets regularly. It’s also clean, and you have easy access to the guest bathroom. It’s also small, but—” He gently explains as he is showing you the room, yet you are too distracted to listen. 

Your eyes are no longer on him, but you are looking out the window across the room instead, distracted by the view of the ocean that is more visible from up here. In the night, there is nothing much to see. But the lights coming from the beachside and from the resorts and venues overlooking the ocean are helping you see the rushing waves, even if it is still too far away. 

With your attention on the sight before you, you gingerly takes a seat on the small daybed placed by the window, once again getting lost in the view and forgetting Seokjin’s presence. 

Shaking his head, Seokjin can only sigh. “Well then, I should, um—” He clears his throat, feeling even more awkward now when you barely pay attention to him, yet pleased that you are able to somehow find some peace here. “I’ll let you rest. Let me check if Ari has found something for you to change into.” 

You still have your eyes looking out the window when Seokjin makes a move to leave the room, ready to close the door gently behind him. But before he can escape, you suddenly turn to look at him with a smile. “Thank you, kind Sir. For you and the little princess. This day has been—” 

A resigned sigh escapes you. The sound once again pulls at Seokjin’s heartstring that he finds himself completely speechless. But whatever anguish that you have wanes as you lift your gaze at him and smile. “You were the first people to be kind to me. Everyone I met had been—rude, dismissive, and that was before I got my tiara taken away.” 

Swallowing his guilt, Seokjin can only nod, feeling solemn. “Welcome to LA,” he says with a bitter chuckle, while you merely tilt your head, looking even more confused that Seokjin can only exhale a deep breath. “I’ll go check on your change of clothes. We can talk more in the morning, once you get some sleep.” 

Seokjin’s heart and legs are heavy when he closes the door and walks away. He walks past Ah-ri’s bedroom and walks up another flight of stairs to get to his bedroom, where his daughter is waiting for him to return. Entering the main bedroom, he finds Ah-ri setting up his clean white T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants on the bed. 

“Will this be okay for the Princess, Daddy?” she asks once she notices him entering the room. 

Nodding, Seokjin reaches out to ruffle the girl’s hair. “Those will be fine. Thank you for getting them for me while I set our guest to her room.” 

Beaming at the praise that she has earned from her dad, Ah-ri begins picking up the clothes. “Then let me take them to her—” 

Seokjin quickly stops her. “No, sweetheart. You can see her in the morning. I’m sure the lady—I mean, the Princess is tired, and you’ll only ask her too many questions.” 

“But, Dad—” 

“Let me take it to her while you get ready for bed.”  

Ah-ri pouts. “Fine. But be nice to the Princess. Okay, Daddy?” 

“Okay, I promise. You sit tight. You’re sleeping here tonight. You said you wanted me to read you before bed, didn’t you?” Seokjin asks, and he feels guilty when Ah-ri beams at him, looking pleased with his promise without knowing that he only wants to keep her away from you. At least for the night.

You may not be suspicious in his eyes after having that last conversation, but that doesn’t mean he is willing to risk his daughter’s safety around a complete stranger that he is hosting in his own home. 

It takes a while for Seokjin to help his daughter to get ready for bed. The girl will not stop talking, jumping from one topic to another so quickly that he can barely keep up—from complimenting your dress, regardless of how tattered it looked, and comparing it with her tutu dress, to how adorable her new pyjamas look. 

She is in the middle of choosing which storybook she wants him to read by the time Seokjin finally gets the chance to slip away, carrying with him the change of clothes that he had promised you and a fresh towel for you to clean up. He makes a quick stop to the snack bar downstairs to grab a bottle of mineral water and some snacks for you.

But once he finally returns to the guest bedroom, you have already fallen asleep. Taken over by your exhaustion, no doubt, as he finds you lying asleep on the daybed where you were sitting on when he left you, watching the night view of the ocean and the beachside from afar. 

Smiling to himself, he takes a moment to admire the way your dress glitter under the dim lighting before deciding that he would just let you be. With careful footsteps, he enters the room, leaving the clothes on the bed that you had taken no notice of and setting the drink and snacks on the bedside table for you to find when you wake up. 

Picking up the blanket from the bed, he covers you with it and gently draws the curtains close, fearing that the sunlight will burn you in the morning. He steps away once he is done, closing the door behind him gently as he walks away, letting you drift off to wherever your dream may take you. 

⟶ Author’s Note | Originally commissioned by @pinkbtsarmy | Thank you for reading!

— © Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind is not allowed. unsolicited translations are not allowed.

[jinkookspencil]

i got you | ksj

back from his service, jin tests out his strength and a theory of his

tags/note: jin x chubby / plus size / curvy reader (f) / fluff + suggestive / established relationship (they're engaged!) / low-key seokjin has soft-dom loving energy here but it doesn't get that steamy

wc: ~1.3k words

description/note: just domestic fluff in the kitchen / spoiler alert for jin's theory: he's sure he can carry his fiance and wants to try it out / no mentions of insecurity on yn's part, she just doubts jin can actually do it / intended with a plus sized woman in mind, but i think you can read and relate even if that doesn't apply to you? as long as you have any doubts that jin can carry you lol / no mentions of idol life, this jin can be whatever you want him to be / they're in the kitchen and jin had been cooking but no other mention of food / i actually wrote a jk version of this first but i will post that second - very soon, it's basically done! i have such a thing for fics based around jin's return i miss him yall / i shared an update post recently detailing where i've been and how i'll be with this blog moving forward! /also, happy valentine's day, here's a lil love from me and jin to my fellow chubby/curvy/plus-sized beauties!! <3 again, jk version coming very sooooooon! / update: jk version available to read here!

The clang of pots and pangs echoing through your apartment warmed your heart. It was an irritating sound when heard regularly, of course, but considering how long it’s been since you’d had your fiance messing about in the kitchen… it was more than welcome. Following the noise, you find Seokjin with his back turned to you, cleaning his used kitchenware and cutlery in the sink and quietly humming a tune. You cursed yourself for not peeking in earlier just to see the man in action - it always was a turn-on seeing Seokjin’s dedicated, sweaty, albeit chaotic cooking. This still did something, though. Hopping onto the freshly cleaned marble-topped kitchen island, you take it all in: the faint smell of something delicious in the oven, the sound of the gushing tap water, more clangs of metal on metal, but you really focus on the man that stood before you. Your man. His adorable growing hair was too short to be long, too awkward to be short. His broad shoulders and new muscles now pressed through his tee instead of his bones. His silver singing voice, even as a gentle whisper, which you hadn’t realized abruptly stopped.

“Drink it in. I’m enjoying this just as much as you are.”

You wonder what gave it away. The sound of your footsteps, the ruffle of your pajama fabric, or perhaps an admiring sigh you hadn’t noticed escaped you. It didn’t matter. You were enjoying the view, surely, but it was even better now when he turned to face you, a shy smile on his face.

“Missed cooking that much?”

“Cooking, yes, I missed being in the kitchen. I don't need to tell you how much I fucking missed your bratty ass, but what I meant was that I am enjoying you. I’m elated I finally have my girl and soon-to-be wife ogling me instead of the men at the base.” He chuckles, turning away and hiding a sudden shyness while drying his hands with a kitchen towel.

“And I'm elated just to be with her... Now that that’s done…” he whispers, undoubtedly ready for what you were with his hands and eyes on your plush thighs, his fingertips toying with the hem of your pajama shorts.

“It’s like you read my mind,” you smile, wrapping your arms around his neck, trying to pull him in for a kiss, only for him to pull away.

That was a first. Since Seokjin was back, at least. The two of you barely kept your hands off of one another….

“Or not…” you ask curiously, cupping his face in your hands. “Seokjin?”

Your fiance silently continues tracing the skin of your plush thighs, squeezing the flesh in his hands. He exhales before doing it once again and finally looking up at you.

You jump from the counter and face him, trying to look into his eyes, but he’s lost in thought. You pull his hand to lead him to the bedroom, but he doesn’t budge.

“Seokjin…?” you ask once again.

“Jump back on the counter for me, love.”

You do.

“Wrap your legs around me, honey.”

“Well, I was going to anyways,” you say, following his orders. “In there…”

“I’ll take you there.”

“What? No!” you shriek, unwrapping your legs from his body.

“Yes, come on, honey,” he says, his voice steady yet soft as he reaches for your leg.

“Seokjin, you cannot carry me,” you say, now pushing him away while he tries to tug you closer.

“Yes, I can,” he insists with a sternness to his voice that reminds you where he’d spent the past 18 months.

“Just because you’re all buff now doesn’t mean you can carry me, stupid. I’m still big, you know?”

“Well, guess who’s also big now? I mean, I always was, of course,” he says with a giggle and a flushed face as he raises his brow and tilts his head downwards, reminding you that he’s still your Seokjin. You promptly roll your eyes with a smile, pinching his arm. He regains his composure in mere seconds, a hand brushing your hair and tilting your face up towards his.

“I will admit that I probably wouldn’t have been able to do it before enlisting, but… I can now, honey. I can.”

“I don’t want you to,” you pout, unable to meet his gaze no matter how intense you knew it was, so knew it was best to shut it down as quickly as possible. Seokjin never forced you to do something you didn’t want to do…

“You.. why not?”

“Because in the case that you try to carry me but then realize you cannot, we could drop to the floor and one or both of us will get hurt. You could get hurt physically since I have padding and you don’t. I’d get hurt mentally, and I’ll be so fucking embarrassed that it was because of my weight.”

“The number of things wrong with that…,” Seokjin tsks, cupping your face and forcing you to look him in the eye. “First of all, I can carry you. Second, muscles are a form of padding, too, idiot.” He pokes your forehead and puts your hand on his shoulders to feel how strong he’d gotten while he takes your soft thigh in his hand. “I can take it, sweetie - all this tells me is I haven’t told you just how much work I did in the service. Third, it’s not because of your weight - nothing ever was. It’d be because I wasn’t strong enough.”

“Seokjin… I don’t know.”

“And you have nothing to be embarrassed about, my love. Ever. I mean… it’s me. I’ve seen and touched you in the most ungodly ways possible, and this would be what would embarrass you? Falling? When I-?”

You shake your head and interrupt him with shushes - nothing he could’ve said would have helped his case. “Can’t we at least put a mattress down or something? In case we fall?”

“Babe, this isn’t Jungkook’s apartment. We don't have an excess of mattresses here…”

The comment makes you giggle.

The way Seokjin rubbed your skin calmed your racing mind.

The kiss he plants on your lips reminds you that this is home.

This is safety.

This is love.

“Just trust me,” he whispers.

You nod, allowing Seokjin to wrap one of your legs around his torso and then the other. His hands sneak their way between your thighs and the marble countertop, digging into your plush skin already. You’d expected Jin to start a countdown, ease you into it at least… but before you knew it, his head was nestled in your chest, and you were off the counter, held up high in his arms.

A loud shriek escapes you, making your fiancee giggle beneath you.

“See, love? I got you...”

He was holding onto you securely, with no sign of any struggle on his part…. If he had been struggling with the weight of you, he hid it well…

“The view’s nice up here,” you smile, resting your head atop Seokjin’s when he finally looks away from you and buries his face in your flesh, kissing and biting you there.

“Seokjin, I can’t smell your shampoo anymore. When was the last time you showered?”

“Mm,” he says against your skin. “Fuck, that’s… that’s a perfect idea, honey,” he says, wide-eyed and excited, though he misunderstands. “It’ll be like a movie scene. But first…”

Seokjin dashes towards the bedroom with you still in his arms, shrieking until he plops you down onto your shared mattress.

“Safe?” he teases, pretending to check your body for any bruises before you pull him towards you until he’s leaning over you, his face a centimeter away from yours, with his hands already all over your soft body.

“Safe,” you say happily.

[btsmosphere]

Trade my Life | KSJ

~summary: once, you were just two children giggling in the corner of the dojang, trading equally in punches and hugs, everything a game. but that was long ago, and now that man stands day after day outside the door which separates your two worlds. is the throne really worth leaving the barrier unbroken? ~pairing: bodyguard!seokjin x royalty!reader ~word count: 2.3k ~genre: angst, fluff, action, historical au, childhood friends to lovers, secret/forbidden love ~rating: nc17 ~warnings: non-sexual nudity, non-sexual intimacy, nothing explicit, jin calls the reader ‘princess’ but she literally is so note: the next part may well have other warnings relating to violence/fighting; this chapter only contains sparring in training

~a/n: welcome to my contribution for the catch of the century collab to celebrate our lovely Jin’s birthday!! how I miss himm already.. if you also do, you can check out the other amazing works in this collab, all featuring jin getting up to some sporty shenanigans! I’ve been sick lately and haven’t quite managed to write everything I had in mind. while this part of the story can be read as a standalone, it will also be part 1 of 2 for Trade my Life - there is more action planned on the way!! let me know if you want to see more/want to be tagged in the next part! lastly, if you know anything about taekwondo, you know more than me!! I consulted with some friends and our good buddy the internet to write this, and didn’t want to get too technical. but don’t judge me too much if it’s all wrong🤣 enjoy the story and shoot a comment my way if you do, it always means a lot���

Sitting silently on your stool, your eyes followed the palace woman out of the door. She paused in the doorway, bowing to the guard on duty before turning to slide it closed, leaving you alone. Her eyes remained dipped, not meeting yours.

A moment passed, her footsteps retreating.

She had just helped remove your hair from its low knot, the pins now laid out below your mirror stand. Little did she know as she reverently brushed out your strands, you had no intention of keeping them so tidy.

With a sigh, you eyed the doorway, the silhouette of your guard still visible through the lattice.

Pressing your hands to your knees, you stood swiftly, without a noise. You had seen to it that you had been seen in your night clothes, and now you padded across to the bed, bent to extinguish the lights.

The room dimming, only a small candle at your bedside remained.

Instead of slipping under your covers, you simply bent to retrieve it, taking care not to jostle the small flame as you trod steadily back across the space.

Back at the dresser, you slid a drawer open, fishing out a simple leather tie. Pulling your hair back, you fastened it at the nape of your neck without needing to check in the small mirror.

Next, to the wardrobe. Quietly pulling it open, you ignored the rich colours and silk of your hanboks, pushing them aside while your fingers search with practised ease in the near darkness only stopping when they reach the slight bump in the wood.

Pressing down, you let the secret compartment unlock and open under your touch.

Set into the base, concealed well, was a small well. Of all the secret things you could have stashed there, the sole thing taking up the space is a neatly folded white garment. Hands falling on the cloth at last, you pull it out and shake it open.

Your dobok.

This may not be the kind of possession one would expect a princess to treasure so dearly as you did. But as you pulled it on, you feel yourself begin to relax, body filling with a confident anticipation.

All that was left was to wait. Hopefully it wouldn’t be long; Jin was never late.

Blowing out the candle, you crept back over to your bed and sat. You could hardly keep yourself from the edge, but forced yourself to sit straight and breathe, willing patience into your restless body.

Before too long, there was movement. It wasn’t loud, not in the least, but among the stuffy silence, unbudging as ever in the castle at night, you caught it clearly enough.

The guards were changing.

Your door muffled the mumbling of pleasantries and soft footfall, and the vague sounds soon ceased. In the room lit only by waning moonlight, you practically held your breath. Waiting the necessary time, though it was time you hated to waste simply sitting, you finally rose to your feet and moved back across the room.

As each night, you reminded yourself of the precautions. If it was someone else, you would simply ask for a drink and retire.

Luckily, tonight did not bring such disappointment. On easing the door open, you were greeted with the profile of the face you had longed to see since sunrise. His slender face, calm but eyes joyous as he turned towards you.

You smiled at last, breathing out deeply.

“Jin.”

He wore a small smile, but still bowed deeply to you.

You rolled your eyes.

“Just come inside.”

“How very forward of you, your grace.”

You fought off the urge to laugh, instead shutting the door a little too forcefully and giving him an unamused look. Of course, your hard stare did nothing to discourage him: in fact, he practically grinned as he turned away from you.

With a huff, you walked after him

“I have a name, you idiot,” you swatted at his head as he removed his gat, “when we’re in here you can use it, at least.”

“As you wish.”

You could hear the smirk in his voice before he turned around. He set his gat on the dresser and faced you as he unclasped the Sai knives where they where sheathed to his belt. At last his eyes were back on you, holding a strip of fabric taught between his hands and just under his eyeline.

“Are you ready, Y/N?”

Finally, you gave a warm smile.

Stepping to close the space, you held your hand palm-up for him to begin. The moment the cloth touched your skin, Jin’s practised fingers wrapping it securely, but not suffocating around your thumb and wrist, the tension from sneaking around began to bleed from you.

He gently turned your hand over with a brush of his own fingers, now passing the fabric over your knuckles. It was the best way to train without ever showing a sign of it.

Letting go, Jin moved to your next hand. With the wrappings, your focus zeroed, the sensation preparing you for the next. Your excitement at spending the next few hours with Jin, pushing yourself and no doubt falling into bed satisfied and spent, fizzled into a concentrated spark.

Jin clapped his palms around your wrapped hands, looking down at you with an indulgent smile of his own.

“Show me what you’ve got tonight, princess.”

You tried not to be disappointed when he stepped away, leaving the short distance your spar would start with. His distance at least aided your focus, and you drew yourself up taller, rolling out your shoulders.

As he implied, he waited for you to make the first move, a punch which he easily blocked, almost smiling.

That was okay, the two of you were just warming up. And you hadn’t come this far without a shred of friendship, you knew he respected you.

Hopping backwards, just out of his reach, you waited with your weight light on your feet, ready to react. You read his movements as he pounced with a side kick, and met him with one of your own, blocking him and bringing a hand up for good measure.

You had no need to shove him off; he darted backwards, slightly circling. You fell into the orbit as well. Already, the blood was rushing to his face, and you knew yours must be the same. It certainly felt like it was powering through your veins, loosening your muscles.

Continuing, you let the rush carry you with instincts, eyes well trained by now to analyse Seokjin’s movements, to spot openings and threats.

A kick for a kick, often retreating again, forever dancing on your toes. At his next however, you felt ready to launch another.

As he fell back, you followed, a turning kick to his stomach which of course he easily withstood and blocked. But your momentum was already shifting, and you span with another kick, foot coming level with his head-

He moved from its path, but you could go no further. His rough hand caught your waist, fisting in the fabric and trapping you against him. A punch completed your planned attack, and he caught it in his hand, stopping your fist at his heart.

Though you had not been aiming to throw any serious force and risk hurting each other, you still scuffled against him from the swift movements. You balanced yourself against his chest, then finally froze.

Grinning down at you, he lingered in the hold for a moment before dropping his arms.

“Very good,” he appraised.

You, too, darted back with a small smile, but soon schooled it from your face.

Falling into your familiar rhythm, you read Jin’s movements and responded in kind. You had built this up since you were half your height, back in the days when he was smaller than you.

This had become a ritual for you, one of the few things that stayed the same. While now, he was taller, and there were less feet in the wrong places, flooring or winding each other and leaving you giggling and red on the floor, it was yours.

He would step back, drawing his elbow back and you would strike his hand where it had placed the target on his hip. Forwards, and you hopped back, precisely kicking lower. Next was higher, and quicker, higher still. You hit his palm beside his neck, and he didn’t even flinch away, eyes steady as they analysed your performance.

Falling back, you stayed on your toes, arms loose and ready for the next.

And so it continued. The focus your mind settled into was more grounding than anything else in your day. Your reading never as calming, calligraphy never so precise.

It was deep into the night when you rested once more, your bodies buzzing with exertion but more content than ever. A sheen of sweat had coated you, and you rid yourself of the dobok.

Your chambers opened into an inner courtyard, where you kept a small bucket below your window. No other lights were lit when you pulled open the shutter, the warm night air still cool against your heated skin.

Bending to wring out your dobok in the water, you heard Jin quietly returning his knives to his belt, only a gentle clatter reaching your ears. Then, steps, and as you straightened up to drape the garments on the ledge, you felt fabric against the bare skin of your back.

Jin pressed closer, his breath warming your neck. His clothed chest brushed your shoulder again as he reached over your shoulder for something just beside the window.

Reverent hands lifted your tail of hair, a cloth meeting your skin a breath later.

Fighting, and in training, Jin was all sharp eyes and sharper fists, one of the swiftest guards. That was why he was allowed to guard the princess’ quarters, after all. But in between, he was always so slow, savouring the time you both knew would be taken away with the sun.

The soft cloth dragged across your neck, and you gasped as it was replaced by softer lips. One hand continued the cloth’s path down your arm, the other carelessly releasing your hair from its tie, where it fell comfortably against your now-clean skin.

But Jin was paying most attention to your neck, your throat, his tantalising kisses treading a blazing path to your jaw. Your head was thrown back, inviting him.

Finally, you turned your head to meet his mouth, a lazy smile shared between the two of you only by feel. You spun in his arms, and he welcomed you, circling your waist.

Somewhere the kisses lapsed, easy silence engulfing you as Jin finished wiping you down. You were cooling down by now, but felt all kinds of warm inside as you leaned against your ledge, watching him drop the cloth and plop one more kiss onto your thigh.

After a shared smile, he climbed to his feet, now standing over you. Fingertips trailed your waist, and he leaned down for one last kiss.

There was no urgency, no what next. Just the long, slow movement, of him against you.

He ran a hand down your tresses as he stepped away, letting you close the shutter. You threw your drying dobok on the headboard, where you could quickly remove it next morning before your lady opened the bedcurtains.

Once in your bedclothes again, you followed Jin to the door. You had no intention of going to sleep while he still had his shift.

But you had to accept that this was your life now. The door closed and you sat with your back against it, knowing Jin stood just the other side. You murmured the odd tease through the door, trying to ignore the wooden barrier that kept apart any playful touches or glimpse of a smile.

You fell asleep to thoughts of how it used to be. Dreams where the door fell away, dissolved, and you were two children again, and you were bunched in the middle of the class with the rest of them, only the hair curled tightly at the nape of your neck indicating your difference from the boys with close-cropped locks.

You had been humoured, then. Anything to get the princess to let off some energy, give the nannies a break and hopefully you might focus on the necessary studies for the rest of the day.

Back before the reigns had tightened until they were practically choking you, you felt almost free. Hounded back home the same as the other small children, only yours was to the palace quarters. Mother reading to you but someone else tugging your hair into order.

Even humoured you when you shrieked about Jin, tried to demonstrate what the kwanjang had taught you that day (while priceless ceramics were hastily removed from the path of your flailing feet).

And it had always been Jin. The boy that never laughed at you for being a girl. Of course, he laughed at you for falling over and for getting dirt on your face and never knowing how to tie your hair if it fell out.

And you laughed right back.

You couldn’t even remember how you became partners, and friends just as quickly. It was like it had always been. The two of you whispered when you should have been listening, you bickered and tried to show off, then apologised again and again when you knocked the other down wrong. All it took to soothe bruises was a secret trip to the kitchens.

It had changed. Gradually, but it had. You watched Seokjin grow, while your time was shut indoors more and more. You saw him don the red robes of guards, proud and capable.

And you decided you wanted the same.

Thank you for reading my lovelies! Please tell me what you thought, that makes it all worth it!!💜

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[taetaespeaches]

“I tried to make you cinnamon rolls.”

seokjin x reader (oc) genre: fluff word count: 1.9K

a/n: Hi lovelies! I’m back! Here we have Poopsie/reader attempting to bake some cinnamon rolls for Jin and her execution fails. And Jin is just the sweetest, of course, like obviously <3 I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading! :))

p.s. HAPPY BIRTHDAY SEOKJIN!!!!!!! my most beloved. 

It all started with a craving. Jin’s craving from the night before. He said it while tangled up in disarrayed sheets, his skin warm as you lied against his frame. His fingers brushed along your bicep, his breath labored as he chuckled to himself, you placing a kiss to his bare chest before smiling against him. It was just a simple, “cinnamon rolls sound so good right now.”

A stupid post-sex craving.

You had woken up with an insane desire to satisfy that craving for your boyfriend. All you wanted was to do something nice for him, after all the things he’d done for you over the years. It had to be perfect and delicious, Jin had to be able to taste how much you loved him with one bite of the doughy pastry. You needed to show him how much you cared, how devoted you were.

And perhaps that was why you were so disappointed when Jin walked into the kitchen after a long day of dance practice and rehearsals, not to the cozy scent of cinnamon and freshly baked bread, but instead to the smell of something burning and the image of you scraping the charring off a blackened ball in your fist.

Maybe it was your sniffling that alerted Jin, or possibly the way you harshly wiped your face with the sleeve of your sweatshirt, the butterknife in your fist dangerously close to your eyes, but he darted toward you.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Jin calmly addressed you, startling you as you jumped in surprise of his entrance. You hid your face by looking downward as you continued your task, suddenly feeling lame for both your poor baking attempt and your damp cheeks. “Hey, what happened?” He asked, worry laced in his tone. “Are you ok?”

Sighing, you shrugged as you attempted to collect yourself but failed as your eyelashes became wet and heavy again. Glancing through your clouded vision at the terrible baked goods sitting sadly in the dish, you finally stopped the action of scraping the cinnamon roll. “I swear it smelled really good in here ten minutes ago.”

Jin’s hand settled on your lower back, his presence bringing both comfort and embarrassment. His other hand hovered over the roll in your hands. “What’s this?”

“I tried to make you cinnamon rolls,” you spoke quietly, clearing your throat after hearing the hoarseness of your own voice.

“You did?” he asked softly, his tone radiating fondness.

“I fucking burned them,” you said in vexation, tossing the hardened dough into the sink before he could take it from you. It made a clunk sound, eliciting a scoff from you.

Before you could berate yourself further, Jin took your wrist in his, gently removing the knife from your grasp and setting it in the basin before he intertwined his fingers with yours. Turning you toward him, he dipped his head to meet your lowered gaze, drawing your eyes to his. “But are you hurt?”

“No,” you groaned at yourself, squeezing your eyes shut and titling your chin toward the ceiling. “I’m just frustrated.”

Pulling you into his arms, you heard him sigh near your ear. “Baby.”

“I’m sorry,” you quietly whined, pitying yourself.

You felt him shaking his head before he opened his mouth to respond. “What are you apologizing for?” Jin questioned, his tone on the verge of outrage. “I love you,” he added as though that was all that mattered. As though it would fix everything.

Still upset over your failure to conduct the perfect scenario, you groaned against him. “Because I was trying to do this thing for you and I fucked it up.”

“And I think you’re incredible for trying,” he assured you, bringing a hand to your jaw to direct your eyes to his once again when you attempted to look to the side of him. “Hey, you’re the sweetest.”

“I just don’t know what I did wrong,” you whined, more tears gathering in your bottom eyelashes. “It said 20 minutes, I did that. I triple checked the temperature. I followed the recipe step by step, I bought yeast,” you explained, Jin struggling to hold back a smile. “I let the dough rise for an hour and a half, only to then punch it back down— which you know what? It seems really counterproductive after letting it rise for that hour and a half—” you interjected, ranting as Jin continued his fight to hold back a grin. “I rolled it out, I made the cinnamon filling and spread that all out, I rolled the stupid thing up, I even measured before I cut it into the rolls.”

“Seems like a lot of rolls and rolling,” Jin joked, earning another whine from you.

“Jin,” you pouted, followed by a huff.

“I’m sorry,” he chuckled lightly, his hand snaking to the back of your head, his fingers digging into your hair as he tugged you forward against his frame. His arm easily wrapped around you, holding you close as his hand soothed up and down your back.

“Did you do this because of what I said last night?” He wondered, his voice muffled against the side of your head, his lips then leaving a sweet kiss to the spot.

“I just thought it would be nice,” you muttered into his chest.

“It is nice,” he insisted, massaging your scalp with his finger pads.

“I’m a failure and this whole thing is embarrassing,” you countered, Jin sighing as he shook his head.

“You’re not a failure,” he whispered. “And you have nothing to be embarrassed about, do you rem-” he huffed. “You watched me fall out of bed butt ass naked this morning, who’s gonna judge you around here?”

Damn him, you thought as your face cracked into a smile. A light chuckle tumbled from your lips as you pushed away from Jin just enough to peer at his features, finding a gentle smile directed at you.

“I wore you out last night, I can’t blame you for having trouble on your feet this morning,” you joked with a shrug, Jin’s grin widening as a dorky squeaky laugh met your ears. Sighing, you glanced over at your blackened rolls. “I just wanted to do something nice for you.”

Jin’s pillow lips settled against your cheekbone, smooshing them to your face as he kissed you carelessly in a series of smooches. “You fucked me so good last night I craved cinnamon rolls for the first time in my life,” he mumbled near your ear, leaving another messy peck to your cheek. “You do plenty for me.”

“Stop,” you whined, shoving against his chest and laughing as you stepped away from him. Jin’s hand wrapped around your wrist, keeping you from going far as he beamed at your brightened expression. For the first time, he allowed himself to look at the cinnamon rolls, a sad sigh instantly falling from his lips.

“Oh Poopsie,” he smiled gently. “You didn’t do anything wrong, that baking dish is a piece of shit.” Looking at him with curious eyes, he shook his head. “I meant to toss it out, the metal is too thin and the food gets way too hot in it.”

“Well, fuck,” you frowned, your shoulders slumped. “Stupid pan. It’s lucky it’s metal and not glass with the way I slammed it against the stove earlier,” you cracked a smile at yourself. “I put on quite the dramatic performance in here.”

Tsking at you, he pouted slightly. “How much time did you put into this?”

“Ah,” you shook your head as though it was nothing. “The longest part was waiting for the dough to rise.”

“I’m sorry, my love,” he pulled you closer to him.

“No, it’s ok.” Rolling your eyes, you looked back at Jin. “I think I just don’t like failing,” you smirked. “I’m usually such a stud, I’m not used to it,” you teased, Jin chuckling at you, his bread cheeks soft as his eyes crinkled prettily.

“I know!” he agreed wholeheartedly. “You know, I’ll eat those anyway if it’ll make you happy.”

“God no, you’ll chip a tooth,” you giggled, lifting another roll from the pan and tapping it against the counter to show Jin how hard they were.

You were sure that your aversion to failure was partially to blame for your emotional outburst. However, a bit deeper down you knew it was because you felt like you only had so much time to show Jin how much you cared for him. Your boyfriend was a provider at heart, a domestic god who was always taking care of everyone. Being able to provide for him was something you believed to be a privilege; being the person who could give him peace and quiet, be a shoulder to lean on, the one with his best interests at heart, and yes, even the person who could give him a sweet treat smothered in even sweeter icing.

“You’re incredible for this,” Jin told you more seriously, staring at you with gentle eyes. “I mean it, I would never have expected this but it’s such a you thing to do and god, I just love you”

Staring at him, you found his soft brown eyes glimmering back at you, expressing all the feeling behind the words he spoke. “Expect what, burnt dessert?” You joked, flashing him a grin.

“No,” he smiled fondly. “Someone caring enough to do all of this,” he gestured to the kitchen. “But of course you’d do this. You go to work all day and then just because I said something in a fucked out daze you went through all this work.”

Watching him carefully, you could tell there was something lingering on the tip of his tongue. Squeezing his hand in yours, you encouraged him to say it. He gave you a sad smile before shrugging defeatedly. “I don’t want to have to miss you.”

You felt the sting in your eyes, triggering you to quickly blink it away. There it was, the overreaching bitterness to your every interaction these days. Every act of devotion came along with the knowledge that you’d soon be apart.

Not wanting the moment to turn sour, you wrapped him up in a hug and kissed the side of his forehead. “Then don’t miss me yet,” you whispered to him, pressing a heap of pecks to his face again. “I’m right here,” you mumbled into his skin.

You could feel the way his cheeks lifted as he smiled before he nodded. “Hey, that looks pretty good,” he nodded to the counter, gesturing at the bowl of icing.

“Oh, yeah, that actually is good,” you informed him. “I did one thing right.”

Shooting you a quick glare, he then wasted no time in grabbing the bowl and wrapping an arm around your lower back before pushing you backward out of the kitchen. The night would turn out to be perfect, you and Jin together creating a memory to look back on fondly.

On the nights he wouldn’t be around, you would think back to this moment. Just you and Jin cuddled up on the couch as he teased you for your baking mishap, the both of you babbling on about the events of your respective days, your hopes and plans for your shared future, and how goddamn good that cinnamon roll icing tasted on each other’s lips.

[muniimyg]

01 | crying rn 》 series m.list

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[eoieopda]

the one with kim seokjin

pairing: jin x reader type: drabble word count: approx. 700 content: jin has a surprise and you are not allowed to be mad, okay? established relationship au a/n: this very stupid idea popped into my head last night and i had to make it into a drabble.

You really should've been suspicious when Jin didn't meet you at the door upon your arrival home. He always did, even when you weren't coming home from a bachelorette trip out-of-town. Granted, you'd only been gone for the long-weekend, a mere three hours away - but still, this should've been your first clue.

You set your small suitcase down next to the door and hung your keys on their designated hook. After tucking your coat back onto its hanger in the front closet, that's when it hit you:

Why was it silent?

Kim Seokjin did not move through life quietly. His big personality and constant desire to be around others - friends, if not you - meant that there was always something going on in your home. And if he was alone, he'd be shouting at the television or his computer screen. But not this time.

Truthfully, he was more likely to have been kidnapped from your home than to sit somewhere calmly inside it, alone.

You quirked an eyebrow as you wandered down the hallway to the left. Poking your head into the various rooms as you encountered them, you didn't see him anywhere. Not in the laundry room, the guest bedroom, or the kitchen. Lips pursed, you pressed on, calling out through the seemingly empty house, "Jin? Are we playing hide-and-seek?"

As you padded along, you noticed that the French doors to the living room were closed - they were never closed. Curiosity piqued, you crept up the hallway. You didn't ask yourself why you felt such stealth was necessary in your own home.

As you approached the doorway, you saw him through the glass panes. He was sitting on the floor with his back leaning against the door. Though his shoulders moved slightly, he was otherwise still. He was murmuring something, but he spoke too softly for any of it to be intelligible.

What on Earth?

The floorboards creaked underfoot. Startled, you froze; even more so, Jin's head turned quickly to locate the intruder. You would've guessed that the sight of you would be of some comfort - after all, you weren't a burglar - but his eyes only got wider when they landed on you. His mouth curled into a shape halfway between a smile and a grimace.

He stood up cautiously. Deft hands hid whatever he was holding behind his back as he turned to face you. Worst of all, his ears were bright red at the tips - his biggest tell. He was undeniably up to something.

Your eyes narrowed under the weight of your suspicion as you pulled the door open. One hinge squeaked slightly over dead air as you did. Jin, still looking like he’d been caught red-handed, stepped back to allow you inside. Head tilted to the side, you began, "Jin, why -"

He cut you off with words shooting quickly out of his mouth - bullets. "I can explain, okay? But you can't get mad at me. You were gone and everyone else was out of town - I got lonely! So, you can't get angry - promise?"

Mouth frozen in the shape of an "o," you didn't know where to begin with any of what he just said. And he didn't wait for you to figure it out before bringing his hands back to the front of his body.

"Oh my god," you gasped.

In his large hands, the little orange kitten looked impossibly tiny. Its eyes blinked slowly, and though they remained shut more often than not, you could see that its irises matched the beautiful pumpkin color of its fur.

This time, you cooed when you said it, "Oh my god!"

Jin's ears went back to their normal shade when you quickly closed the distance between you. The tension in his shoulders evaporated with his relieved sigh. He chuckled before placing a kiss on your cheek in greeting, “So glad you’re not angry.”

"I wasn't allowed to be, remember?" You snickered. Gently, you scratched under the kitten's chin. Your heart melted at the purrs you received in response, vibrating through its little body. "What's their name?"

He said it matter-of-factly, like it was silly of you to bother asking, "Kim Seokjin."

Once again, you stared at him with your unresponsive mouth hanging open. Buffering. The two of you stared at each other for one silent moment before you erupted into giggles.

Your boyfriend was incredulous as he stared down at you, eyes twinkling. "What? It's a good, strong name!"

Standing on tip-toe, you kissed one Kim Seokjin before squatting back down to kiss the other. "Can't argue with that. Handsome, too."