#Seokjin scenarios | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

glossdebut · 9 days ago

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so hot (you’re hurting my feelings) | KSJ

✧ PAIRING: seokjin x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: You haven’t heard from your ex, Seokjin, in a year. When you're invited to his best friend Yoongi's engagement party, you know you should say no, that you should just leave it alone. But you can't pass up the chance to show Seokjin what he lost.

✧ TAGS: exes to lovers, light angst, seokjin’s problem is that he is chronically unserious (who is surprised?), smut, seokjin has a big dick (again who is surprised?)

✧ WARNINGS: hurt feelings, the angst is pretty light but it's still there, vaginal sex, riding!!!

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: it is here!!! sorry it took so long, i've never written seokjin before!!! and then it turned into a monster like holy fuck. like study break, this wasn't beta'd, so i apologize in advance for mistakes/repeated phrases. seriously, i didn't even re-read it after i finished it because i just can't look at it anymore LMAO. STREAM HAPPY!!!!!!!!!!

✧ WORDCOUNT: 4.4k words

[10:42] Seokjin: i heard jimin invited you to the party for yoongi and eunji on saturday

[10:42] Seokjin: are you going?

You should’ve said no. That is one-hundred percent clear to you now.

Better yet, you really should’ve blocked Seokjin’s number a long time ago, laughed in Park Jimin’s stupid face when he invited you in the first place.

You’re super happy for Yoongi, you are. You were around when he and Eunji first started seeing each other, watched Yoongi agonize over the mushy, embarrassing feelings that come with falling in love. The fact that they’re engaged now? Insane. But knowing Yoongi, he surely would’ve been just as satisfied with a cursory ‘congratulations’ text.

Any sentence that starts with ‘Yoongi’ and ends in ‘party’ usually has a big, fat ‘doesn’t want to go to’ smushed in the middle. Bold and underlined. You knew from the get-go that any and all planning of this party was Jimin’s doing, and Jimin’s doing alone. That Yoongi would’ve been totally unbothered if you couldn’t make it.

Besides, Yoongi may be your friend, but Seokjin is your ex. And wherever there is Min Yoongi, there is also Kim Seokjin. Fuck, he’s probably going to be the best man. The logical part of you knew that it would be better for all parties involved to politely decline, to make up an excuse not to go.

Instead, what you said was—

[10:58] You: yeah i’ll be there

Maybe you’re trying to prove a point. Prove that you’re better off now, although whether you’re trying to prove it to Seokjin or yourself you still don’t know. It would explain the dress you’re wearing: short, fitting, a soft, baby pink—his favorite. Look at what you gave up, it screams.

Because you need him to know.

You haven’t seen each other in well over a year. It hurt, then, but now you’re thankful because it means he missed your rock bottom. He missed all of the tears you shed for him, the stolen sweatshirts you refused to stop wearing—the gaping, Seokjin-shaped hole he left in your life.

There was a time where you’d thought Seokjin was The One. It was no secret that you were heading towards marriage. Seokjin is the type of guy you’d always fantasized about being married to. On paper, he was perfect: kind, handsome, funny. Knew his way around a kitchen. Charmed your parents within seconds of meeting them.

But perfect on paper very seldom means perfect in reality. As it turned out, Seokjin had many flaws, the most notable being his inability to have difficult conversations. It was endearing until it wasn’t, until difficult conversations became more and more necessary to have the kind of future you’d dreamed of having with him.

Even the way things ended felt like the punchline to a joke that didn’t quite land. You broke things off, but you were still the more heartbroken one in the end. He handled it so graciously.

So, yes, part of you desperately needs him to see you, now that you’ve picked yourself back up.

Another part, though—a part that has decided to only make itself known now that you’ve actually stepped foot into Park Jimin’s soiree from hell—is fucking terrified of facing him after all this time. Terrified that he’ll see right through the makeup, the styled hair, the carefully placed mask—to find that you’re just as shattered as you were the day he left.

Standing here now, at a party that could’ve been yours and Seokjin’s in another life, you suddenly feel like you’ve made a horrible mistake.

But you’re here. No turning back now, because Jimin has already seen you, will surely notice if you suddenly go missing.

Thankfully, you excel at compartmentalizing like no other. Revenge era aside, you’re here to celebrate Yoongi and Eunji more than anything else. You fix your dress, fix your smile. Raise a glass to the happy couple and swallow down your nerves with a mouthful of expensive champagne.

You make your rounds. You haven’t seen most of the people here since you and Seokjin broke up, since they were all Seokjin’s friends first. Despite the urge to look over your shoulder every ten seconds, it’s nice to see them. You missed them.

The happy couple are just that: happy. Although Yoongi looks like he wants to strangle Party Planner Jimin™ with the tie he’s been forced to wear. Namjoon got a promotion at work since you last saw him. Hoseok is seeing someone new. Taehyung is seeing several new someones. Jeongguk is pink-cheeked and plastered. Everything is the same and completely different, and you can’t help the fondness that fills you as you greet them one by one.

Foolishly, you almost forget. Almost. You just barely make it to Yoongi’s fancy kitchen, looking to top off your champagne, when suddenly you feel a warm, familiar hand on your elbow.

“Y/N...”

Of course.

You’re frozen to the spot, unable to even turn around to face him. It’s been over a year since you’ve heard his voice and just the sound of it makes your throat feel tight. How embarrassing would it be if you cried in front of him before you even get a word in?

“Y/N, please look at me,” Seokjin says, voice soft.

Fucking get it together, you think.

You swallow thickly, school your features into the most neutral expression you can manage, and turn around.

Oh, life is unfair. Life is so unfair, because you had mentally prepared yourself for Seokjin to look great. Seokjin always looks great. There are no exceptions to that rule. He once used your kitchen scissors to cut his own bangs, and even though it looked like someone had taken a bite out of them, he was still fit for the cover of a magazine. Dazzling.

What you hadn’t prepared for, though, is that he would look even better than when you last saw him. Great you could’ve handled, but better? Did losing you really do him so many favors?

His hair is black again, as opposed to the chocolate brown you’d last seen. Shorter, too, and artfully styled. It’s hard for you to wrap your head around, but somehow he looks bigger, just enough for you to take notice.

And if things couldn’t get more devastating for you, three whole buttons at the top of his shirt have been left unbuttoned. Two more buttons than he’d normally ever allow, showing off a tantalizing swath of chest.

Kim Seokjin, what happened to your modesty, you whore?

“Hi,” he says, smiling at you kindly. He’s breathless and pink, like he’d done a little jog to get to you. You try not to read into it. Compose yourself.

“Hi,” you reply, polite but so, so carefully detached.

“I guess this was inevitable, huh?”

Not really, you think to yourself. He’s the one who approached you. He could’ve just as easily not—it would’ve been the kinder thing to do. But you bite your tongue.

“Guess so,” you say instead.

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately,” Seokjin says.

You’re not quite sure what to do with that. Why would you even cross his mind anymore, if he so obviously didn’t care when you dumped him?

Sensing that you don’t know what to say, Seokjin continues, shifting from foot to foot awkwardly.

“What I mean is, I’m really unhappy with the way we left things.”

That makes you scoff. The first crack in your mask of politeness.

“You didn’t seem it, when it happened,” you reply coolly. “I don’t know what could’ve possibly changed in a year of zero contact.”

He visibly deflates a little, his smile faltering. “Y/N, I—”

“I don’t want to do this, Seokjin,” you interrupt, shaking your head. “There’s no use digging up the past. We ended for a reason.”

“I know that,” he insists. He steps closer to you and you immediately step back in response. “Look, can’t we just talk?”

“You want to talk now?” you ask, your mounting frustration spilling over at his insistence. His proximity, the familiar smell of him overwhelms your brain. “It’s a little too late for that, don’t you think?”

“Don’t be stubborn, Y/N,” Seokjin huffs. The nerve of him, sounding just as frustrated as you. He doesn’t have the right. “I want… I want to explain. Just let me explain.”

You know it’s not the time or the place to do this. Normally, you’d be completely disinterested in the prospect of hashing things out in Yoongi’s kitchen, in a party full of people. But all of the what if’s that have piled up the past year nag at you to listen to what he has to say.

“Fine,” you snap, impatient. “If that’s what I have to do to get you to leave me alone.”

Seokjin sighs, rubs a hand over his face. “When you ended things… I just—I let you,” he says. “I let you because you were right. I didn’t know how to handle conflict between us. I thought… I thought if I just brushed our problems off, if I made you laugh and put them out of your mind, it would be enough to make everything okay.”

He looks down, staring at his shiny shoes. If you were together, you would crack a joke about him staring at his own reflection. Not the time for that, though.

“And clearly, it wasn’t. You were unhappy. And I hated that I was the one to make you that way, because all I ever wanted to do was make you smile,” he continues. “So I let you go. I thought you’d be better off.”

Better off? How could he possibly think you would be better off without him? How could he possibly think that you didn’t want him to fight for you, back then? All you wanted was for him to prove you wrong, to show you that he could own up to his faults, and instead…

“I wasn’t ready to have those hard conversations with you, and I’m sorry for that. But I’m ready now,” Seokjin says as he looks up at you. “I don’t want to laugh things off, or push them aside and hope it gets better. I know I’m a year too late, but I want to be better for you, if you’ll let me.”

Shit.

“Jin, I… Those are pretty words, but how am I supposed to trust that things will actually be different this time?”

“...I guess you won’t know unless you try,” he says. His voice is soft, fragile like spun sugar. “I won’t blame you if you don’t want to take the risk. But… Y/N, I love you. I at least need you to know that. I never stopped.”

Love.

He never stopped loving you. But… If he never stopped loving you, why did he wait so long to tell you? You want to believe him, but it all feels too good to be true. You’re overwhelmed, caught at a crossroads you had no idea you’d face when you agreed to come tonight.

“...I don’t know,” you say weakly. The tears that have been forming in your eyes finally start to spill, one by one. “I don’t know if that’s good enough. This past year has been… I don’t want to let you back in just to get hurt all over again. I don’t know if I can pick myself back up a second time.”

“You won’t have to,” he says gently. He reaches out to touch your arm, hesitant, and you let him. “I’m serious about this, Y/N. I know I won’t be perfect, but I don’t ever want to lose you again. Not if I can help it.”

You sniffle and Seokjin’s hands reach for you, cradling your face. His thumbs rub at your cheeks gently.

“Please don’t cry,” he says, his voice almost pained. “You’re gonna mess up your pretty makeup.”

You let your eyes fall shut, allow yourself a steadying breath as Seokjin wipes your tears away.

Maybe it’s the familiarity, the ease with which you let him touch you, even after everything that’s happened. Maybe it’s all of the built-up longing you’ve stored for him over the past year, bubbling over now that he’s in front of you, broad and strong and safe. Maybe it’s that he still loves you. You know you should think this over a little longer, that you shouldn’t fold so easily. That there’s so much more to talk about and work through. But still…

“Okay,” you say, your heart pounding in your chest. “You get one more chance. On a trial basis.”

Seokjin’s stupid, perfect lips pop open, his mouth forming a little ‘o’ in what you can only assume is shock. Like he was ready for a swift and justified rejection, wasn’t expecting his speech to pay off.

“Are you sure?”

You aren’t. You won’t be, not until he proves himself. Not until he shows you that he’s ready to face the hard parts of a relationship, to handle it like an adult when things get bad. But damn if you don’t want to give him the chance to.

“I’m gonna put you through the fucking wringer,” you say, firm. “I’m going to make you talk about all of the things you skipped out on before. But… I want to let you try.”

Seokjin. laughs breathlessly, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“I deserve that. We can talk about anything you want,” he concedes. Warm eyes study you for a moment before he lets out a tentative, “can I kiss you?” He sounds so hopeful, you can’t bring yourself to deny him.

You loop your arms around his neck, leaning up to capture his lips in a kiss. It’s crazy, how it takes you right back to the start. Your first date—Seokjin, ever the gentleman, walking you to your door. The tentative press of lips for the very first time, his hands hovering by your waist like he’s afraid to touch you.

But it isn’t the first time. After a moment of nerves, Seokjin eases into it, deepens it. His hands are confident when they finally make contact with your waist, pressing you against the kitchen island behind you. You melt into the easy slide of his lips against yours, surprising yourself when your tongue slides against his, earning a pleased hum from him.

It dawns on you how inappropriate this is, making out with your ex (???) in his best friend’s kitchen—at his best friend’s engagement party—but you can’t bring yourself to care that much. Not when you’ve finally gotten a taste of what you’ve been missing for so long.

When he finally pulls away, Seokjin’s lips are deliciously swollen. You can’t tear your gaze away no matter how hard you try. Your hands smooth over his shirt, feeling his broad shoulders, the silky material stretching over them.

“I know I owe you a much longer conversation, but…” He trails off. You shiver when you feel his breath on your neck. “God, this dress…”

He trails a finger down a thin strap, and just like that, your every nerve ending is alight. It’s embarrassing, how easily you crumble for him from just a little bit of kissing. How your thighs squeeze together at the husky tone of his voice.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, trailing his nose against the side of your neck, breathing you in. “Did you wear this dress for me?”

“Wanted you to know what you lost,” you mumble, a little petulant. Still wanting to punish him, just a little.

“I know what I lost,” Seokjin admits easily. His hand smooths down your side, over the silky material of your dress. “Believe me, I know. I’m an idiot.”

Shit. This is working for him. Groveling looks just as good on him as everything else does.

“You are,” you agree weakly, your eyes fluttering shut. He’s being perfectly respectful, keeping his hands in safe places, and you’re already falling apart.

“Let me take you home with me,” he says. When his plush lips press to your neck, you can’t hide the way your breath hitches. “Let me make up for it.”

“Are you joking? You can’t leave,” you say, breathless. “What about Yoongi?” The excuse sounds weak even to your own ears, and you know Seokjin can see right through you. How close you are to saying fuck it.

“Yoongi wants to be at this party even less than I do,” Seokjin says. “You know that. Please, baby.”

★★★

When you make it to Seokjin’s apartment, it becomes clear that both of your patience is wearing dangerously thin.

In all the time that you’ve known him, you’ve never known Seokjin to be like this—the passionate, ‘need to have you now’ kind of guy—and you really didn’t mind. Instead, he was an exceptionally respectful lover. He took his time, checked in with you to make sure you liked what he was doing. Missionary with eye contact. Seokjin didn’t fuck, he made love.

But when he unzips your dress, lets it pool at your feet, guides you to lay on the bed that you’d once shared—you feel like all he’s itching to do right now is fuck you.

It’s the way he’s looking at you, eyes dark as he takes in the matching set that was hidden under your dress—also pink. You’ve never seen this look on Seokjin before.

“This,” he murmurs, his fingers skimming over your clothed heat, forcing a gasp out of you. “This is new. Never seen it before.”

Suddenly, you understand what must be going through his head. Had you bought this for someone else? Had someone else slowly peeled it off of you, unwrapped you like a gift?

In reality, you haven’t slept with anyone else since you broke things off, too busy throwing yourself into work to think about it. Still, it’s nice to see the little flicker of jealousy in his expression, the tick in his jaw.

You look up at him, biting back a smug grin. “You like it?”

“Mmm,” he hums in affirmation, fingers finding your clit with an ease that only someone who knows your body like he does could manage. “Very much.”

Seokjin forces a moan out of you as he rubs you in circles, soaking the fabric of your panties with the wetness that had built up during the ride to his apartment.

“I bought it last week,” you gasp out, quelling his worries in an instant. It would be nice, of course, to torture him a little bit longer, but the burning need between your legs is getting too difficult to bear. “Needed something that wouldn’t show through the dress.”

“So you bought it for me, too,” he smirks, tilting his head at you. The bastard. “You know, like the dress.”

“I’m going to kill you,” you grumble, although the way you squeeze your eyes shut and grind against his fingers tells a different story.

“Oh noooo, don’t kill me.” Seokjin grins, withdrawing his fingers to instead hook them into the waistband of your panties, dragging them down your legs. “At least wait until after I make you cum. You’d be punishing yourself otherwise.”

Cocky motherfucker. You sit up on your elbows, a retort on the tip of your tongue, but when you open your eyes to look at him, you stop short.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, eyes wide as he stares down at your pussy. It’s a testament to how wrecked he is at the sight—Seokjin doesn’t curse often. “So beautiful…”

“Jin,” you gasp as he spreads you open with his thumbs, his plump bottom lip caught between his teeth as he discovers how much you’re dripping for him. “Don’t tease.”

“I won’t tease, baby,” he says silkily, pulling you to the edge of the bed by your thighs. “You know I have to work you open, though. No way you’ll be able to take me otherwise.”

You gasp when he sinks to his knees, cry out when he wraps his lips around your clit, laving over you with his tongue. When your hands fly down to his shoulders, holding him there, he hums in approval and you earn a deft finger sliding into you.

“M-more,” you moan, your back arching when that finger crooks up, rubbing expertly at your inner walls. “More, please…”

He pulls back, focusing his efforts on stretching you open with his fingers, two now. “Since you asked so nicely,” he says with a smug smirk.

By the time he adds a third you’re basically incoherent, right on the edge. You feel like you’re going to cum any second, writhing and moaning as your muscles tense in anticipation, but Seokjin withdraws as soon as he catches on.

“Not so fast,” he says, ignoring the way you whine at the loss, pussy clenching helplessly around nothing. Fuck, you feel so empty. “You know how I want you to cum, baby.”

Fucking tease. Fine, if he wants to be like that, maybe you will have an opportunity to torture him a little bit.

Sitting up at the edge of the bed, you look up at Seokjin as your hands find the front of his pants. You give him a squeeze, biting back a smirk when he practically whimpers at the contact.

“Y/N—”

“I wanna ride you, Jinnie,” you purr, looking up at him through your lashes as you unzip his pants and teasingly push them down his legs.

“Yeah, okay,” he wheezes, nodding jerkily. His cheeks and the tips of his ears are pink. Cute, you think. You haven’t seen him like this since the first handful times you had sex, months after you started dating. Despite having had sex before, it took him a while to stop being a blushing mess. It fills you with satisfaction that not having you for so long has brought this side out in him again.

Once the rest of his clothes are shed and you’ve very slowly rolled a condom onto him—much to Seokjin’s embarrassment—you guide him to sit up against his headboard, climbing onto his lap to straddle him.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” he asks. His eyes are fixed on yours, searching.

“With the amount of times I’ve taken your stupid big cock, you really think I don’t know when I’m ready?” you tease, guiding his tip to slide between your folds.

All of the embarrassment is suddenly gone as Seokjin grips your ass firmly. “Yeah? Then take it,” he practically growls, making you shiver.

You slooooowly ease yourself down just the slightest bit, but the stretch of Seokjin’s cock is overwhelming after such a long time without it. All of the air is stolen from your lungs as you work him in, inch by agonizing inch.

“That’s it,” Seokjin says, his hands rubbing over your thighs soothingly. “You okay?”

“‘M good,” you manage, your hands gripping at his forearms as you sink down deeper. Once he’s fully sheathed, you take a long moment to catch your breath, feeling the way he pulses inside of you.

Once you feel ready, you give an experimental roll of your hips, testing the waters. You both moan in unison, and when you look up at Seokjin it’s clear he’s using all of his restraint not to fuck up into you.

“God,” he grits out, pained. “You feel so good.”

“You do, too,” you moan, setting a slow rhythm for yourself as you fuck yourself on his cock. “Always feel good, Jinnie.”

He surges forward to kiss you, the shift in angle making you gasp into his mouth. Your kisses are sloppy, unable to maintain any finesse as your movements become more confident, more desperate.

When he decides you can take it, his hips start to snap up to meet yours.

“Fuck,” you moan against his lips, overwhelmed by the intensity. “God—Jin, holy shit.”

“Look so good on my cock,” he groans, pulling back from the kiss to watch the way you bounce in his lap, his tongue darting out run over his bottom lip. “‘M never gonna get tired of seeing you like this.”

You’re going to cum. You were already close before, but now—with the way he’s gazing at you, with the feeling of him inside of you—you’re so close to tipping over the edge it’s making your head spin.

“It’s okay,” he soothes, his hand snaking between your bodies to rub your clit with his thumb. “Cum for me, baby. So beautiful.”

That’s all it takes. The pleasure is overwhelming, your muscles tightening as you muffle a cry into his shoulder. Seokjin lets out a low moan, his thrusts turning erratic under you as he fucks you through your orgasm.

You’re limp on top of him, moaning incoherently as Seokjin chases his own release, the sounds of his hips slamming up against your ass rattling around in your ears.

“Fuuuuck,” he groans as he spills into you. He slows to a stop, both of you panting as his forehead presses against yours. Eyes squeezed shut, you fumble blindly for his hands to lace your fingers with his, still catching your breath.

It feels so right, being with him like this again. You were afraid, at first, that there was too much baggage between you for it to feel this good. But sitting here now, both of you glowing with pleasure, all of that fear is gone.

“Seokjin,” you pant, squeezing his hands. “Don’t let me leave again. If we’re going to do this, I need you to fight for me.”

When you open your eyes, Seokjin is grinning at you stupidly. He looks so, so fond that it makes your heart skip a beat.

“I already told you, I’m not losing you again,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your nose.

“Good,” you say, a soft smile playing at your lips.

It feels like a moment. You’re both exactly where you should be, wrapped up in each other as if you’d never been apart in the first place.

“...Are you going to tell me you love me while my dick is still inside you?” he teases, his grin growing even wider.

Huffing, you smack at his chest, earning a wheezing laugh from him.

“I do love you, you idiot,” you complain. Kim Seokjin, the king of ruining moments, seriously.

“I know, baby,” he says, stifling his laughter enough to kiss you softly. “I love you, too.”

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7ndipity · 11 months ago

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Their Ideal Types

Ot7

Summary: What I believe the members ideal types would be.

Warnings: Swearing, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! Please bear in mind tho that these are just my personal opinions, based on what I’ve observed from their personalities and with some references to their astrology charts(if you’re not into that, just ignore those points on each list)

Masterlist

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Jin:

His Capricorn venus means that he’s a little old fashioned in his style of romance, which I think reflects in his statements in the past about being a classic hopeless romantic. He wants someone who he can sweep off their feet and eventually settle down with.

I don’t think he has a huge preference on age, I feel like he’d kinda want either a little older/younger rather than the same age tho.

He’s said once that he wanted someone a little on the chubby side(granted, this was years ago, so I don’t know if that’s still true), he also strikes me as someone who would be drawn more to the classic ‘girly’ vibe(pastel colors, flowy layers, fluffy sweaters, etc) but I think the main vibe he’d look for in a partner is comfort. I don’t quite know how else to describe it other than ‘Ghibli vibes’ if that makes sense?

He would want someone with a classy/graceful air, who’s confident in themselves and not afraid to take the lead sometimes and stand up for themselves.

Someone mature, but not too serious, with a good sense of humor and who’s not afraid to be silly sometimes. Someone affectionate, but not overly clingy.

Someone patient and understanding, who makes it easy for him to open up and be vulnerable.

Yoongi:

Pisces are already very deep feeling signs, but coupled with his Venus in Aries, Yoongi can sometimes come off rather intense in regards to relationships. He’s very matter of fact about his feelings sometimes, and I think he wants someone who can match his frankness. He doesn’t have patience for mind games, if you’re into him, fucking say it.

He’s said before that he doesn’t really have a type, at least when it comes to physical appearances or styles. Imo tho, I feel like he would be into someone with a casual, more tomboyish style(oversized hoodies/sweaters, layered shirts, sneakers, shorter hair)

Doesn’t really have a preference on age either.

He’s said before that he wanted someone similar to himself, with a deep passion for music and creating. Obviously, that doesn’t mean you have to be a professional artist/musician(I actually think he would prefer someone outside the industry, or at least outside the Idol/Kpop sphere), but he definitely needs someone who’s a fellow creative type who can understand that side of him.

Someone patient and warm, with an infectious energy that can help bring his mood up(kinda like Hobi), with a sharp sense of humor like his own.

I think he would like someone who’s somewhat independent, who knows what they want and isn’t willing to take shit from anyone.

Hobi:

His Pisces Venus means he’s very go with the flow when it comes to relationships, so he would want something very relaxed, without any chase or mind games, or anything too rushed either. He wants someone he can just ‘be’ with.

I think he’d prefer someone slightly younger, not significantly tho, just a couple years or so.

I think he’d be into someone ‘cute’, though maybe not necessarily in fashion sense, moreso just their general energy. Style-wise, I think he’d like someone who similar taste as him, more streetwear type clothes.

Someone bright and easygoing, who’s equally happy with going out or staying at home and doing nothing. Someone energetic, who not afraid to be silly at times.

Someone very sweet, kind and gracious(lowkey think he would be into the “mom friend” personality)

He’s said before he wanted to feel cherished in a relationship, so I think he would want someone he can take care of, big fan of skinship(bordering on a little clingy). Someone who makes him feel needed/wanted, who dotes on him over little things.

Namjoon:

Namjoon is like a textbook Virgo, very grounded and practical. However, his Venus in Scorpio means he’s quite intense emotionally and sexually, so he would want a partner that can balance or match his intensity.

I think he would prefer someone his age or slightly younger.

I remember Jk saying once that Joon was into the ‘cute but sexy’ vibe, and I think that’s still true to an extent, he finds people with range very attractive. I don’t know that he really has a preferred style, maybe something more simplistic like his?

He would definitely like someone confident and independent, who can hold their own in a conversation or argument, but still polite and open minded. Someone that can challenge him and his own perceptions.

Someone intelligent, career/goal driven, and creatively minded, someone who he can go to museums/art exhibits with.

I think he would also really like someone who’s into fitness and working out like he is(lowkey loves the idea of gym dates), but it’s not a necessity for him.

Jimin:

He’s a classic Libra to his core(which I love abt him but it also drives me crazy). As much as he loves to tease, he doesn’t have the patience for too much chase or playing hard to get. He wants someone who’ll be honest about their feelings.

I think he would want someone close to his age, a little older/younger doesn’t make much difference to him.

He said before that he tends to prefer cuter appearance/vibes, but with his Venus in Scorpio, I think he would be drawn to someone with a bit of a darker, sensual contrast in their personality or looks, kinda like him.

He’s a hopeless romantic,(his favorite movies are the Notebook and Like Crazy, he’s a major softie) wants someone he can fall with and yeah, be a bit melodramatic with.

Someone warm, but slightly introverted, maybe even a little shy. Someone kind, open minded, and patient, but willing to stand up and speak their mind when they need to.

Someone who makes him feel needed(another Libra trait) Someone who can keep up with, or even match, his flirty nature.

Taehyung:

As an Aquarius Venus, he tends to be drawn towards people with unique, unconventional beauty/style. He wants someone who’s not afraid to go against the norm to be themselves(tho he would love it if you have similar love for vintage aesthetic like him)

Idk why, but he gives me “When Harry met Sally” vibes. Like, despite his fascination with romanticism as an aesthetic, I think he really prefers to go the friends to lovers route. He wants someone he feels comfortable with first and foremost. He falls slowly and then all at once.

I don’t think he has much preference on age, but he’d probably like someone his age or maybe slightly older.

I think he’d kinda be into the “mom friend” personality. I’ve said it before, he really likes being taken care of, even if it’s just in little ways like fixing his hair or buttoning his coat before he leaves in the morning.

Someone slightly more extroverted, who makes friends easily, likes kids and animals.

Someone sensitive and mature, but who he can still be goofy and random with, who’ll play along with his skits and tangents(like jimin does)

Jungkook:

Although he seems more drawn towards classic feminine style, I think he’d actually find someone with a similar style to his really attractive, even if it’s just in color palette. I don’t think he really has a type stylistically tho.

Despite Libra Venus’ tendency to look for partners that they have an immediate connection with, they actually prefer the ‘friends to lovers’ route, and I think that’s very accurate for him.

He’s kinda into the chase(literally the entire Seven video like👀), so he likes a partner that plays a little hard to get and teases/challenges him sometimes, but only sometimes.

I think he’d prefer someone his age, or maybe even a little older(He has a noona/hyung kink, I will die on this hill)

Like Joon, I think he’d really appreciate who’s into fitness/working out/boxing(lowkey, if you can hold your own wrestling with him, he’s got heart eyes)

Someone confident, independant, and artistic with a good sense of humor. Someone well mannered and patient(rudeness is an instant turnoff for him). Someone who can challenge him, but in a gentle, non-critical manner.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

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devotedfem · 3 months ago

Text

→ Brat tamer

Synopsis: Seokjin was captivated by your beauty and intelligence. It was such a shame that those charms were being wasted by your criminal tendencies. Good for you he knows how to tame the naughtiness out of you, just like he did with his trained police dogs.

K. Seokjin x f.reader

Genre: police au | yander-ish

Tags: evil Seokjin, corruption, corrupted cop, violence, kidnapping, angry reader, strong and fierce reader but submissive at the end, captivity, manipulation, stockholm syndrome, mention of r@pe (but it doesn't happen), very dark.

From the series masterlist; The chasing.

The red and blue lights ghosted on your face, your gaze was a bit blurry but you knew who you have in front of you; police officer Kim Seokjin.

Immediately a rush of adrenaline run your blood, you were expecting him, craving his attention. You were thirsty for revenge.

He carries himself with such confidence that it pissed you off, with an intimidating aura and intense eyes that wanted to pierce you whole, but you weren't afraid of him. Quite the opposite.

"Miss y/n, what a shame seeing you like this again." He sounded serene, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes.

"I'm innocent officer, but i don't know if you're competent enough to notice." You pouted mocking him.

Seokjin eyes darkened immediately, his jaw clenched not breaking his piercing gaze from you.

He killed your best friend a week ago, it was unfair because your friend was innocent. He was tricked into selling drugs, and he didn't have any idea of what was happening until the police caught him, telling him that he was arrested because of his friend's briefcase full of drug. The problem was that Seokjin shot him, unnecessary and unfairly.

You wanted revenge so bad.

"What did you do this time?" He sighs like if he was dealing with a troublesome child, and you snorted offended by his tone.

"She was vandalizing the wall of the streets, spreading hate towards cops, such an ungrateful brat," the old lady scoffs, and you wanted nothing but to punch her.

"Okay, thank you ma'am, i'll take it from here." Seokjin dismissed her, grabbing you and handcuffing your wrists.

"You're a corrupted cop, and i'll swear to god i'll make you pay for killing my friend," you spat full of anger.

Seokjin went stiff behind you for a second, and then he came closer enough to brush your ear with his lips.

"You'll regret speaking to me like that y/n, i'll fucking teach you some manners," he threaten you with a dark voice.

The next thing you know, is that you're in his cop car, heading to god knows where.

You expected him to take you to the police station like any normal cop would do, but to your horror, he was taking you out of the city.

You started to panic.

"Where the fuck are you taking me you psycho! let me go!" You screamed, unable to break free from the handcuffs.

"I recommend you to shut your mouth y/n, don't make me any angrier," he warned you lowly without breaking his gaze from the road, and you listened to him because you were so fucking scared of him.

He was corrupt and dangerous. You were right. And the realization will cost you your life.

Your gaze got blurred by unshed tears,but you swallowed them. You won't cry in front of him, he doesn't deserves your tears.

Your heart squeeze tight in your chest when the car stopped in front of a cabin in a forest.

This is it, he's going to kill you and nobody will ever find out, because the system was that fucked up.

"Scared my y/n? Don't worry, it won't hurt bad i promise, i'm very gentle with women," he mocked like a sadist, but as he said, he treated you rather gently when he took you into the cabin.

Until he didn't.

He throwed you to the floor of his dark basement, and then you see them, his trained police dogs staring at you. And with a heavy heart you realized that you share the same fate as them.

It was a sick feeling, an urge to run away from this predator, Seokjin.

"What will you do to me? Violate me? Then after that you will kill me and feed your dogs with my body, aren't you? You seem like the type to do that, i always knew you were a sicko."

You witnessed the sight of a shocked Seokjin, he looked speechless and taken aback by your words. And it was pleasing to know that you can have some control over his emotions.

You bit back a smirk.

And then his face hardened, piercing you with a darken and unreadable gaze. The corner of his lips lift up with disdain, as if you were so below him.

"What do you think i am? A monster?"

Before you could laugh and mock him, he grabbed the back of your hair in a fist, forcing you to look up at him and making you wince by pain.

"I am not sweetheart, i brought you here to discipline you, after all it is my duty to put criminals like you in their place," he said with a sadist glint in his eyes, coming closer to your ear to whisper, "at the end of the week, you'll be obedient and pliant just like my trained dogs," he winks at you letting go of your hair.

"I rather die," you spat with hate, but your handcuffed hands were trembling, and Seokjin noticed it smirking widely.

"We'll see, brat."

And at the end of the week you were on your knees, with your head resting on Seokjin's thigh, feeling his fingers petting your locks with one hand while the other was holding the leash of your collar, just in case if he needs to punish you, but you were so sweet and pliant lately that he didn't have the need to discipline you.

The isolation, bruises, rewards and punishments turn you into a good girl, and he was proud of that.

"You will never leave me, aren't you?" He tried to sound cocky, but his tone was dark, with a flicker of possessiveness on his grasp and gaze.

You blinked your fuzzy gaze, coming closer to him in between his thighs, resting your chin on his belly and looking up at him with adoration and disorientation in your gaze.

"I rather die."

And he smirked like the devil.

Ko-fi

Taglist:

@demonshauntingthedoves @oddracha

#yandere seokjin #bts yandere #yandere bts #seokjin x reader #seokjin fanfic #seokjin x you #seokjin scenarios #bangtan fanfic #bts x reader #bangtan fic #bts au fic #yandere au #yandere x reader #dark bts #bts imagines #dark fic #x reader

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citrustan · 3 months ago

Note

Can you please do a rich seokjin x reader wherein he grovels for oc 🙏😭 Like he did not defend oc when his parents were being mean to her and even defended them something like that hahaha I live for angst fics so much ❤️❤️❤️❤️ (Thank you in advance btw! I really really enjoy your fics!)

hii thanks! love it when requests are specific!! please send in more of these :D

'm dividing this into two parts because it's too long for me to call it a drabble

please, please, please [1/2] (ksj)

pairing: seokjin x reader

genre: sugar daddy turned boyfriend!seokjin x middle-class, unemployed!reader ALSO dilf!seokjin. angst, fluff, and barely-there smut (in the next part) yet again because i'm taking tiny baby steps towards the big girl stuff.

warnings: there's an ex-wife, unkind parents, and typical rich people behaviour: take that as you may!

The evening had started on a high note.

The birds were chirping, the breeze was gentle. Yada yada. You centred yourself with your boyfriend's son, Sehun's, giggles, to distract slash calm yourself. At the same time, Seokjin's entire family and friends (and you) gathered under the warm glow of temporary lamps installed specifically for the occasion in his backyard.

Admittedly, it's borderline disrespectful to call it a backyard when it was easily over an acre of lush grassland, adorned with flower fields, and a horse farm. With champagne-equipped golf carts, decorated with wisterias and vines, used to transport the party goers from one place to another, and well-dressed staff to guide everyone. And you kept seeing the fairest doves. You wonder if that was natural or of they were introduced to the area for the party.

You knew your boyfriend slash sugar daddy was rich, but you had no idea just how rich.

As the evening progressed, the mood, specifically yours, began to shift---bit by bit, for the worse. Your once nervous yet lively aura had grown strained.

It was such a shit-show.

Starting with Seokjin's parents who couldn't pretend to be nice for the life of them, or was that intentional? Perhaps to scare you off or something. Because it worked.

They were distant, awkward, and nothing like Seokjin had described them to be. You were under the impression that you'd be meeting your second family, an extension of your own.

Boy, were you mistaken.

You were met with so much... inhospitality and indifference.

It was so bad you had to walk away from your table a few times just to stop your tears from falling and ruining your makeup.

They kept talking about Sehun's mother and Seokjin's perfect ex-wife, as if you weren't sitting right across them. Speaking of their relationship in present tense--- 'Oh, you're so beautiful together.' 'The perfect family.' 'She's the best daughter-in-law anyone could ask for.'

All the while, you're the one with a promise ring on your finger.

Seokjin, obviously, interrupted them everytime. But even he eventually tired himself out too.

Every time you attempted to make conversation with the pair, you were met with blank stares.

You couldn't even escape them because Sehun was off with his caretaker, being his 6 year old self, uncaring of where he is. You had nobody to go to except the man you were already seated next to.

"Seokjin," his mother began, "When you mentioned planning a soirée, I assumed you were getting back with Yewon."

His father added, "Your mother and I were so happy."

Were.

Seokjin exchanged an uneasy look with you.

You expected him to defend you. Maybe just give them a little scolding. Or a simple yet stern 'be normal.'

But instead, he just scoffs and laughs.

That was it.

Shakily sighing, you excused yourself for the seventh time that night to lick your wounds in privacy.

This time, when you didn't return after ten minutes, Seokjin comes looking for you, immediately finding you stood near his favourite Magnolia tree.

You looked like you were in deep thought and a little tipsy. And you were thinking up a storm. How was this going to play out? Would you be made to break up with each other? Would Seokjin leave you?

He paused to your right, "_____, I know this isn't enough but I really am sorry. I had no idea they'd react this way."

Defeated, you whisper, "I don't even know how to act. I mean... it doesn't matter because it's not like they'd even notice."

You add, "And you're right. It's not enough." Angry, you rapidly turn to face him, "You keep letting them treat me like I'm invisible. And they keep talking about Yewon and your, oh, so perfect marriage as if she didn't cheat on you. I mean, you technically cheated on each other later anyway, right?"

Seokjin's expression darkened. He tilted his head in disbelief, "_____. I can't believe you'd bring that up."

"Is that why they don't like me? Because they know I'm your mistress?"

Seokjin's scowl deepens, "Don't talk about yourself like that, _____."

Oh!

Mockingly raising your brow at him, you laugh, "Oh, but it's okay for mommy and daddy to talk about me 'like that'?" You make air quotations at 'like that.'

"Of course, it isn't! But, that's just how they are. They're horrible people, _____." He exasperates, "And I know there's no changing their mind. So do yourself a favour and just... don't bother about what they think or say. It's not important." He's breathing heavy when he finishes.

You painstakingly digest each of his words.

Now, there are two possible meanings of his advice.

Don't worry about mommy and daddy because you and I are the only ones who matter!

Don't worry about mommy and daddy because you're disposable anyway!

But, you're not sober enough to decide yet.

Seokjin caresses your naked, cold, arm with a warm hand. His fingers travel up to your décolletage, grazing against it, then further upwards to gently fix the diamond necklace he bought you on your last birthday.

He then takes his blazer off to drape it over your shivering shoulders.

Seokjin looks at you, carefully choosing his tone to reflect his state of mind: apologetic, "I promise we can leave after Yewon gets here. My parents invited her too. And, she'll be taking Sehun to her place today."

You wait for him to continue because you know there's more.

"We'll greet her. Cordially. Bid goodbye immediately after. And see Sehun once before we head to your place. Is that... Would you be okay with that?"

The fact that Seokjin, as the host, was going to leave his own party for you makes you feel guilty. But you knew you would not be able to deal with Seokjin's relatives any longer.

So you nod once, "Ok."

He links your arms together and walks you back to the main event where they serve the good stuff. Yay for you!

"Seokie! You look great. _____, you too! Your hair looks amazing." Yewon grins at you.

"Thank you, Yewon. You look beautiful as well." Seokjin answers for the two of you as you drunkenly smile at her.

(Two) hours had passed since Seokjin promised you you could leave after Yewon arrived. Which meant you had two too many hours to down the seemingly bottomless Champagne flutes.

Yewon observes you with concern and raises a brow at your boyfriend. Seokjin simply nodded in response, with his arm still wrapped around you, supporting your weight.

Not oblivious to the silent conversation going on in front of you, you nuzzle your face directly into his chest.

Yewon is lovely. She's the best ex-wife any girlfriend could've asked for. Respectful, friendly even, and... normal.

Still, you've always been jealous of their relationship.

They still had chemistry, and were great co-parents.

There was nothing stopping Seokjin from going back to her. Well, there's you, but had you not been in his life, you wonder if they'd have gotten back together.

"There you are! Kim Yewon, my favourite daughter." Holding Yewon by her waist, Seokjin's mother feigns anger, "Now, why did it take you so long to get here?"

Was she 12? You hate her. So much. All you want is for Seokjin to make her... stop.

"In all honesty, I overslept." Yewon smiles, embarrassed.

Mrs. Kim sighs dramatically, "Well, you are a doctor. You deserve to rest. You work too hard."

"Ah, yes... Maybe... Why don't we go find Sehun? _____ and Seokjin are leaving soon." Yewon is evidently aware of how his family is reacting to you, and wants to minimize all of her interactions and words exchanged with the Kims.

At that Mrs. Kim looks at her son bewildered, "You're going to leave your own party? That's just rude."

THAT'S rude?

"I'm sorry, mom. We," Seokjin raises your clasped hands up, "have important plans."

"Well... What could be more important than family? You're just going to leave your son and his mother to fend for themselves?"

>:(

Hm.

Now... what happens in the next few minutes, you blame slash credit the alcohol.

You don't understand why he had to lie because you certainly had no issue with telling the real reason you were leaving.

"That's right, Mrs. Kim, Seokjin chose me. We don't have," you make air quotes when you say this, "important plans, we, my boyfriend and I, we, just want to get as far away from you as possible because you have a chip up your ass and you walk around with a stick on your shoulder."

Seokjin and Yewon froze.

"And Seokjin hates you." You spat. "He hates you so much he planned a gigantic party just so he wouldn't have to spend more than a few minutes with you at once."

You want to stop but your mouth works faster than your brain.

"Seokjin hates you so much he always needs other people around you to cut the tension."

At this point you were word vomiting.

"He hates you so much he keeps himself busy with work. And when he's not at work, he's with me. And my family," - "_____, stop talking," Seokjin sternly scolds.

But you don't hear him, "- because he loves me. And Sehun, and he loves my mother because she isn't a narcissistic bitch who treats her son like-" You stop.

Seokjin squeezes your hand as if he were begging you to shut the fuck up as Mrs. Kim stares at you in contempt; her face red, nose flared, jaw, and fists clenched.

But you don't budge, "His marriage is over. Understand that. It's like you don't even care about what he's been through."

"_____, please."

Seokjin's request has fallen to deaf ears once again.

You continue, "All you do is criticize his choices and decisions. You don't even care that Yewon cheated on your son because you're just as up her ass as you are up your own."

At that, Seokjin instantly drags you away from the two women. Both Mrs. Kims.

He takes you back to the tree.

You half expect him to make out with you because he looked... somewhat worked up.

The pins in your hair are starting to feel a little too tight and you feel sweaty even though it's freezing.

"What the fuck is the matter with you?"

You drunkenly stare at him, eyes widened in genuine confusion. You place a hand on your chest, "Me?"

"You had no right to cause a scene like that. I told you we were leaving. I was handling it."

But he was, in fact, not handling it. You helped him!

Seokjin needed someone to back him up. If he couldn't stand up for himself, you didn't expect him to stand up for you.

You owlishly blink up at him.

"_____, this isn't high school. You're not a child. You can't go around yelling at adults about how mean they are."

"I was just trying to hel-"

"This isn't a movie, _____. This is real life. My life. And Yewon's. My mother didn't know the real reason we broke up. And you had no right to tell her."

Now, that's news to you. And what the hell? Do you even exist in this picture?

"Well, obviously, I didn't fucking know that. And, thanks a lot. Now I know just how much I mean to you." You begin pulling your hair pins out as you turn to leave his premises.

"_____." Seokjin gently grabs your wrist, "We're not done here."

You rip yourself away from his grip, "I think we are! Obviously, you have no space for me in your life. And Yewon's!" Your lips quiver contrasting the accusatory words that just slipped through your tongue.

He rolls his eyes, "_____, that's not what I meant. You know that's not what I was saying."

You resembled an angry kitten with your hair a little wild from pulling all those clips out, and eyes red and puffy as if you'd start tearing up any time now.

"I don't want to be your fuckdoll anymore! I'm done!" With a shaky yet final sigh, you turn back around, lift your gown so you don't trip, and storm off.

While you didn't want him to stop you because you were in no mood to fight a grown man, you were more upset that he just let you walk away from him.

You didn't want to end your relationship like this. Although you know this isn't permanent, you can't help but wonder if he'd even try with you anymore.

note: so tumblr ate up part of this story and the other note i had added, so this is me rewriting it. i can't make asks private so here we are. i'm upset my writing didn't get saved. i don't know if this version is better or worse.

either way, please tell me what you think.

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yoonia · 2 months ago

Text

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.

⟶ Story Masterlist: Ever A Never After | ⤎ previous chapter | next chapter ⇢

⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Feedback | Ko-fi | Music companion

⟶ Special Taglist: Ever A Never After

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!

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jinkookspencil · 1 year ago

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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.

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euphoricfilter · 1 year ago

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Idk if u write this but

Breeding kink for seokjin as a night shot?

. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆. night short #30

double horny thought for tonight!!!

it wouldn’t have been until one night, the both of you in his car with no condom on hand, would he find out just how much you loved the idea of him cumming inside of you just as much as he did

your pussy clenching around him, cock arousal-soaked and slippery. ring of creamy white cum clinging to the base of his cock

his eyes would stay trained on where your bodies meet, stomach tensing when he cums, utter filth falling past his lips as he tells you how much he wants to fill you up. how his seed would take, how pretty you’d be with his baby

wet squelch obscene as he fucks his cum back into you, smearing whatever had escaped over your clit to bring you to the edge of your second orgasm

he’d work his softening cock back into your cunt. keeping himself there tucked warm inside of you until you feel him stirring between your walls, hands wandering over your body as he starts to rock back into you, ready to release another load of warm cum, cock twitching as he cums, feeling enough for you to find your own orgasm

he’d make you ride him, lifting your hips up just enough for him to slip out of you, making you push his seed out of your cunt, watching it dribble onto his cock before he’s pressing it back into you

or making you finger his cum back into you as he watches, thumb pressing over your clit, helping you get off as he recovers, ready to fill you up, ready to make it take this time

night short masterlist

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kookiewithluv · 2 months ago

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..★.──MASTERLIST──.★..

• TITLE: Celeste (Tangled In Love And Destiny Series)

• PAIRING: Seokjin x Wife!Reader

• GENRE: Romance, Angst, Drama, Unrequited Love

• RATING: 18+

• WORD COUNT: ongoing

• TRIGGER WARNING: This story explores themes of arranged marriage, unrequited love, and emotional turmoil. It delves into the complexities of a relationship marked by resentment and the struggle for acceptance. The narrative includes mature content, including explicit scenes and sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.

• SUMMARY: Seokjin orchestrated his own arranged marriage, but even after six years, his wife still loathes him… or does she? He’s perfect in every way, but she’s blind to what he offers. As the years go by, will she finally see the man behind the mask? Or will he always remain the one she’s forced to love?

• a/n: This story is entirely a work of fiction and is the sole property of @kookiewithluv . The characters, events, and scenarios depicted are products of the imagination and are not intended to represent or reflect real-life situations, nor do I wish for anything portrayed here to occur in reality. I kindly ask that my work not be copied, translated, or reposted as your own on this or any other platform, including YouTube. Please respect the effort and originality behind this piece. Thank you for your understanding and support.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

OTHER

Moodboard

a/n: Let me know what you think in any way you like—comments, messages, carrier pigeons, whatever! I'd love to hear! If you want to be tagged for future chapters, just holler.

#kookiewithluv #bts ff #bts ffs #bts fanfic #kim seokjin #bts seokjin #seokjin x reader #seokjin scenarios #seokjin bts #seokjin x you #seokjin x y/n #seokjin angst #seokjin fanfic #seokjin fluff #seokjin smut #bts smut

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soft-pxachy · 7 months ago

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⤷ ❝oh, god❞ — ksj (s.m)

➤ Pareja: jin!sacerdote x lectora!fem

➤ Recuento de palabras: 7.9k

➤ Género: sexo en una iglesia! smut y obscenidad!

➤ Resumen: Tu imperturbable devoción a la iglesia nunca había sido algo que realmente te importara, y sabias que no debías estar haciendo esto, sabias que estaba mal, pero no podías hacer nada desde el momento en que el Padre Seokjin entró en tu mente, haciéndote fantasear con él todas las noches, arrastrándote a un estado en el que sabias que estabas condenada, por suerte, el Padre Seokjin estaba dispuesto a perdonar todos tus pecados.

♥︎ softpxachy's

⤷ masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ instagram

Era otro domingo de congregación como cualquier otro, T/n estaba sentada en una esquina del banco de la iglesia lo más cerca posible del atril que se elevaba imponente frente a todos, con los brazos cruzados y completamente desinteresada en lo que pasaba a su alrededor, toda su atención estaba cien por ciento enfocada en el Padre Seokjin.

Siempre se negaba a participar mientras el Padre Seokjin dirigía la congregación a través de oraciones y anuncios. Su suave voz reverberaba a través de toda la habitación, cautivando a los asistentes del domingo por la mañana con sus palabras de adoración, predicando sobre la divinidad del amor y de Dios.

Se podía ver fácilmente cuánto había tocado los corazones de los creyentes con sus palabras y actos bondadosos con solo mirar alrededor de la iglesia.

Sus ojos seguían cada movimiento del Padre Seokjin, suspirando cada vez que mostraba una sonrisa encantadora, riéndose cuando hacía una o dos bromas ligeras. Si no supiera nada mejor, pensaría y estaría completamente segura de que las personas que iban a la iglesia estaban allí solo para ver al Padre Seokjin. Prácticamente había hecho que todo el pueblo se enamorara de él. El sacerdote encantador y de buen corazón que era un símbolo de la devoción del pueblo y era una luz cálida y brillante para aquellos que buscaban su providencia.

El Padre Seokjin hablaba y todos escuchaban. Bueno, todos menos T/n.

Sus sermones parecían entrarle por un oído y salir por el otro, y en su lugar, optaba por soñar despierta. Sus ojos nunca deambulaban por el interior de la iglesia, siempre estaban enfocados en la mirada suave y persistente del padre Seokjin. Y esto no había pasado desapercibido para él, por supuesto.

T/n era la chica que asistía a sus misas todos los domingos pero que solo estaba allí; sentada entre la multitud, el mismo asiento todas las mañanas, interactuando con la menor cantidad de personas posible, siempre la primera en entrar y la última en salir. Y había llamado su atención por completo, cada vez más intrigado por ella y por la forma en que parecía querer arrancarle la sotana con los ojos, deseando poder saber que pasaba por su cabecita para ser tan persistente y dispuesta en cualquier cosa que tuviera que ver con la Iglesia, y ahora era él quien estaba completamente cautivado por ella,

La comunión era la parte favorita de la misa para T/n. Eso significaba que era casi la hora de irse y formó un pequeño puchero dándose cuenta de que ahora tendría que esperar hasta la próxima semana para volver a ver al Padre Seokjin, pero aun así se puso de pie y caminó hacia la fila para recibir la hostia, y mientras esperaba, no pudo evitar mirar el hermoso arte pintado en el techo de la iglesia y las estatuas de santos que la rodeaban a cada paso que seguía avanzando hasta que finalmente estuvo frente a frente con el Padre Seokjin.

Él le sonrió cálidamente y con ternura en sus ojos mientras la veía hincarse frente a él sobre el reclinatorio, esperando pacientemente a que ella lo mirara y sonriendo aún más al ver el destello de timidez que brilló en su rostro mientras parpadeaba a través de sus pestañas cuando finalmente elevó su mirada hacia él. Su imponente estatura fácilmente hacía sentir a T/n como si estuviera mirando a Dios mismo.

— El cuerpo de Cristo.— Anunció con su voz suave y amable mientras le ofrecía la hostia.

Los labios de T/n se cerraron alrededor del pan sin dejar de mirarlo a los ojos, sus labios rozaron de forma cálida y suave contra los dedos del Padre quien inclinó la cabeza levemente hacia un lado con diversión y una pequeña sonrisita tiró de la comisura de sus labios hacia arriba, había sido una acción pequeña e imperceptible que debió haber sido la primera bandera roja de que el Padre Seokjin no era en absoluto quien parecía ser, y tal vez T/n había sido demasiado ingenua por no darse cuenta.

— Amén.— T/n respondió por lo bajo mirándolo con pura adoración en sus ojos, odiando profundamente tener que alejarse de su presencia.

Pero simplemente obedeció cuando el clérigo hizo un pequeño asentimiento para que se levantara y regresara a su asiento, el Padre Seokjin aun podía sentir la sensación de sus suaves labios en la punta de sus dedos mientras le daba un rápido vistazo desde lejos, y tenía que admitir que sintió como si lo hubiera besado un ángel.

Y el pensamiento de T/n no abandonó su mente durante el resto de la misa, estando completamente seguro que tal vez ella era una especie de tentación divina puesta deliberadamente frente a él como si se tratara de una prueba de Dios o como si fuera un desafío en su camino. Una cosita curiosa e inocente que el Padre Seokjin amaría ver caer y derrumbarse frente a él solo para poder reclamarla como suya.

Para él, T/n era como un pequeño cordero tembloroso, completamente ajena al lobo que la acechaba. Quizás hoy era el momento perfecto para atacar. Tal vez la presa ya estaba lista para ser capturada.

"Todavía no." El Padre Seokjin pensó para sí mismo.

Había decidido que se tomaría su tiempo, continuaría observándola desde lejos como siempre lo había hecho y planear cuidadosamente su siguiente paso antes de finalmente morder la manzana del pecado que era esa jovencita de ojos de muñeca y labios rosados que atormentaban sus noches más solitarias y más pecaminosas.

Él jugaría con su desinterés en la iglesia justo como ella lo hacía con sus pensamientos lujuriosos, después de todo, tenía que haber una razón que la estaban atrayendo a la iglesia, a él, y para ser alguien supuestamente irreverente, T/n estaba mostrando una gran devoción hacia cualquier cosa que estuviera planeando, pero el Padre Seokjin lo solucionaría, solo era cuestión de…

—¿Padre? —T/n lo llamó suavemente y su voz interrumpió sus pensamientos por completo.

—Vaya, ¿Todavía estás aquí, paloma m��a? — El Padre preguntó, mirando alrededor de la iglesia, notando que ahora estaba vacía y solo eran ellos dos quienes seguían ahí.

—Quería hacerle una pregunta, padre. —T/n pidió en voz baja, mientras se distanciaba levemente de él.

El Padre Seokjin le hizo un gesto para que se sentara en uno de los bancos a su lado y T/n lo hizo evitando su mirada, mordiéndose el labio inferior cuando el silencio se hizo presente entre los dos, sin saber cómo empezar exactamente.

— Bueno, por supuesto que puedes hacerme preguntas.— El Padre Seokjin aseguró dando un par de pasos cuidadosos hacia ella.— Ven, siéntate y cuéntame qué es lo que te preocupa.

—Temo que me estén corrompiendo, Padre…—T/n comenzó a hablar por lo bajo y de a poco, cuidando cada una de las palabras que le decía.— Me está comiendo por dentro, es como si se estuviera extendiendo como el fuego del infierno dentro de mi.

—Está bien.— La voz del Padre era tranquila y firme, transmitiendole un poco de seguridad con sus palabras.— Estás a salvo conmigo, puedes confiar en mí.

Y con eso el corazón del Padre Seokjin se llenó de preocupación.

—¿Corrompiendo? Oh, mi dulce paloma. ¿Es por eso que has estado tan distante recientemente? ¿Te has estado guardando todo esto para ti sola? —preguntó con voz suave acortando de a poco la distancia que los separaba sin llegar a ser muy invasivo, mucho menos cuando la vio ponerse rígida y asentir levemente con su cabeza.— Paloma mía, esta es una carga que no tienes que llevar sola. Estoy aquí para ti. No hay razón para que sientas que tienes que distanciarte cuando te sientas preocupada.

—Lo siento, padre. —T/n respondió por lo bajo, agachando su cabeza sintiéndose avergonzada.

—No hay necesidad de disculparse. —murmuró en medio de una sonrisa y elevando una de sus manos para frotar suavemente el dorso de la de T/n, viéndola suspirar y relajarse de a poco en su toque y se aclaró la garganta.— Entonces, cuéntame más sobre ésta... corrupción.

—Me condenaría, Padre… —T/n respondió con voz pequeña mordiendo su labio y sintiendo como su rostro comenzaba a arder de vergüenza.

— ¿Qué clase de sacerdote sería yo para condenar tal pureza? —Habló y su voz la tranquilizó más de lo que alguna vez hubiera pensado, era como miel para sus oídos.

El Padre Seokjin se levantó de su asiento y lentamente se dirigió hasta quedar de pie frente a ella, viéndola clavar sus ojos en el suelo, incapaz de siquiera mirarlo y él no podía entender del todo su actitud.

Había un silencio de muerte. La tensión en la iglesia de repente se hizo notar entre los dos y el Padre Seokjin se movió para pararse más cerca de ella y su sombra cayó sobre T/n como si fuera una manta con cada uno de sus pecados y, sin embargo, comenzó a sentirse más caliente que el calor del sol de ésta mañana.

—¿Has perdido el contacto con tu fe? —El Padre Seokjin habló con la voz más baja y suave que alguna vez hubiera escuchado.

T/n jugaba con sus manos en su regazo, retorciéndose bajo su profunda mirada y no respondió, estaba demasiado aturdida por la pregunta que le hizo para saber cómo responder correctamente.

—Dime, paloma. —El Padre volvió a hablar, usando dos de sus dedos para inclinar su barbilla hacia arriba y hacer que por una buena vez que lo mirara. —¿Buscas una nueva religión?

—¡N-no! No he perdido mi fe…—T/n habló finalmente en medio de un sollozo, sintiendo como todo su cuerpo comenzaba a temblar bajo su toque y su mirada. —Ésta corrupción es…diferente.

—¿Diferente? —El Padre preguntó aún más confundido, inclinándose sobre ella para mirarla a los ojos.— ¿Cómo?

—Yo… —T/n balbuceó sintiendo como su mirada la hacía sentir increíblemente pequeña frente a él.— Tengo estos deseos. Impulsos pecaminosos que vienen a mí tarde en la noche. Padre, quiero deshacerme de ellos.

Y con eso el Padre Seokjin pareció comprenderlo todo, pero trató de guardar las apariencias lo mejor que pudo, pero fue incapaz de luchar contra la sonrisa divertida que se formó en su rostro justo antes de relamerse los labios.— ¿Impulsos pecaminosos? ¿Deseos? Querida, no estás hablando de lo que creo que es... ¿verdad?

—Es vergonzoso, Padre, lo sé… —T/n murmuró por lo bajo mordiéndose el labio con fuerza y sintiendo como pequeñas lágrimas comenzaban a brotar de sus ojos.

— Shhh, no hay necesidad de avergonzarse. —El Padre Seokjin susurró de forma tranquilizadora al mismo tiempo que elevaban sus manos para acunar su rostro con cuidado; limpiando de a poco sus lágrimas.

Era como si su simple toque enviará olas de electricidad por todo su cuerpo, y T/n hizo todo lo posible para concentrarse en los tiernos ojos del Padre Seokjin mientras volvía a hablar.

—Las necesidades carnales son humanas, querida. Está en nuestra naturaleza querer ceder a esa tentación. —explicó suavemente, como si estuviera hablando con una niña pequeña mientras T/n se derretía por completo en su toque, mirándolo con ojos de cachorrito y presionando su mejilla más contra su palma. —Cuéntame más de cómo te consume esta corrupción.

—No podría, Padre… —T/n habló negando con su cabeza en medio de hipos y una que otra lágrima que aún goteaba de sus ojos antes de darle un rápido vistazo a todas las estatuas y pinturas de santos a su alrededor.— No aquí…

—Entiendo, ¿Quieres ir al confesionario? —preguntó tranquilamente colocando un mechón de su cabello detrás de su oreja justo antes de verla asentir con ilusión haciendo sonreír.— Está bien, vamos.

Y tan pronto como dijo el Padre Seokjin entrelazó su mano con la de ella guiandola por el pasillo que daba directo hacia el confesionario y que se escondía en una de las esquinas del gran salón de la Iglesia, lo suficientemente aislado del lugar para que nadie pudiera escuchar ninguna de las confesiones que los creyentes hicieran y se respetará el secreto de confesión del Padre Seokjin.

Era una especide de armario de dos espacios, hecho de la misma caoba lacada de los bancos y de tamaño solo un poco mas grande que para una persona en cada uno de ellos, una cortina de color rojo vino a lo largo de cada puerta que ayudaban a proteger la identidad de cada penitente, y tan pronto como llegaron el Padre Seokjin abrió la puerta del lado derecho, haciendole un leve movimiento para que entrara y ella lo hizo murmurando un pequeño ‘gracias’.

T/n sabía que no debería estar haciendo esto, sabía que estaba mal, incluso el mero pensamiento de confesar todos sus pensamientos pecaminosos eran suficiente para destrozar su conciencia, pero su conciencia ya estaba arruinada desde el primer momento en que hundió su mano entre sus piernas teniendo en su mente al Padre Seokjin, y sabía que eso era la mayor condena para sí misma.

Así que se obligó a quedarse quieta en el banco de madera en el que estaba sentada, tratando de asegurar sus crecientes nervios, podía escuchar los latidos de su corazón en ese pequeño espacio, al menos estaba oculta por la tenue oscuridad de la cabina, pero de alguna manera se sentía desnuda y expuesta, como si la oscuridad fuera aún más reveladora, y sabía que sus pensamientos no estaban a salvo en este silencio y oscuridad sobresalientes.

El sonido de la puerta de la otra cabina se escuchó tres veces más fuerte cuando el Padre Seokjin entrò, T/n notó su silueta oscura moverse del otro lado, sus zapatos resonaron en el piso de madera con cada paso que dio y el asiento crujió cuando se sentó, sus manos se movian nerviosamente en su regazo cuando la voz profunda del Padre se escuchó a su derecha.

—No te pongas nerviosa, paloma. Tómate tu tiempo para encontrar tus palabras. —El Padre Seokjin murmuró suavemente, intentando transmitirle toda la confianza que necesitará.

El corazón de T/n se estremeció en su pecho y se obligó a inhalar y exhalar pausadamente. Podía hacer esto. Sus labios se abrieron y las palabras cayeron familiarmente, como un hábito perpetuo.

—Bendígame Padre, porque he pecado. Esta es mi primera confesión. —comenzó a hablar apretando sus manos en puño en el borde de su falda, pensando que la verdad debería mantenerse bajo llave como lo había estado haciendo los últimos días, esa verdad con la que no debería haber jugado en primer lugar.

—Independientemente de que estés aquí solo para decir tu verdad o para desahogar su mente, estoy aquí para escuchar, paloma.— El Padre aseguró y el sonido de su voz retumbó bajo y cálida a través de la rejilla que los separaba.

Ya estaba aquí, ya no había vuelta atrás ahora.

—He tenido pensamientos impropios sobre éste… hombre, que está fuera de mi alcance. Sé que no debería tener pensamientos tan traicioneros sobre él. Pero no puedo parar. —T/n comenzó a hablar sintiendo como su voz salía temblorosa, manteniendo sus ojos enfocados en las tenues sombras de las estatuas que se reflejaban dentro de la cabina.— Yo… apenas puedo mirarlo, apenas puedo soportar estar cerca de él, porque lo deseo tanto y eso me vuelve codiciosa, ese es uno de los siete pecados capitales, ¿no? ¿Codicia? Eso es lo que soy, Padre. Lo quiero y quiero todo de él. Quiero su tiempo y sus pensamientos, y no quiero compartirlo con nadie.

Y tan pronto como su confesión salió de sus labios un silencio abrumador los inundó a ambos, un largo y agonizante silencio mientras esperaba la respuesta del Padre Seokjin quien parecía estar encontrando las palabras correctas que decir, imposible de ocultar la bruma de celos y posesividad que comenzó a crecer en su pecho después de escuchar a su pequeña paloma hablar de esa forma de otro hombre.

Detestaba el simple pensamiento de T/n tocandose pensando en otra persona y le ardía en sus entrañas, él quería ser el único hombre que estuviera en su mente, el único que la hiciera sentir bien, el único que la viera doblegarse y caer de rodillas pidiendo mas placer, quería que fuera suya, y de nadie más.

—¿Él está casado? —preguntó poco después, recordando sus palabras y con su voz más dura y áspera de lo que imagino, pero era algo que simplemente no pudo evitar.

—No, no lo está. Es... mucho peor. —T/n respondió pensando cual de las dos opciones era peor, ¿Fantasear con un hombre casado o con un hombre que comprometía su vida a Dios?

—Solo eres humano, y el humano comete errores. Ningún error es imperdonable cuando te arrepientes de tus pecados.— El Padre Seokjin instruyó con prudencia, y casi sonó como si esas palabras se las estuviera diciendo a sí mismo.

T/n negó con su cabeza ante eso, como si el hombre al otro lado pudiera verla, eso no era lo que queria escuchar de él, queria que le dijera que estaba mal, algo que le diera un incentivo para acabar con esta tortura.

—Lo hace sonar tan inocente Padre, y no es así…—hablo casi burlándose sin humor de sus palabras.

—¿Por qué no lo es? —El Padre preguntó y su tono de voz cambió por completo, enviàndole un escalofrío que recorrió el cuerpo de T/n, sonaba diferente ahora, ya no se escuchaba reservado ni distante, sonaba cálido y curioso, y la animó a seguir hablando.— Dime más.

Oh, Dios.

—Yo… —T/n balbuceó sintiendo de repente como si su garganta estuviera llena de ceniza. —Lo quiero de manera inocente, a veces. Quiero arrodillarme frente a él y adorarlo hasta que no pueda más, quiero ser buena para él y que me halague por eso. —habló con calma, dejando que su mirada se deslizara hacia el suelo, donde la luz de las velas iluminaba sus piernas. —Pero también lo quiero de otras maneras.

Podía sentir cómo sus palabras se le clavaban en la garganta una tras otra. Estaba segura que la vaga forma de su deseo era suficiente para que el Padre Seokjin supiera que estaba hablando de él, pero parecía como si el sacerdote no tuviera intenciones de detenerla, era como si la estuviera provocando con su voz, y la tensión se podía palpar en el aire, espesa, a pesar de la rejilla que los dividía y el Padre tarareó levemente.

Quería que siguiera hablando.

—Pienso en él cuando no debería, Padre. Trato de no pensar en él de esa manera, pero es tan difícil no hacerlo, siento que sabe cómo es mi alma, y me asusta, pero también me hace quererlo más… —T/n continuó hablando sintiendo como toda la sangre de su cuerpo circulaba con más rapidez, acentuándose en su rostro y entre sus piernas como ocurría todas las noches desde que conoció al Padre Seokjin.

—¿Cuándo piensas en él? —El Padre preguntó con voz áspera, y ese mismo sonido era todo lo que T/n podía escuchar, todo lo demás se había desvanecido en la oscuridad del lugar.

—Lo hago cuando los pensamientos me mantienen despierta por la noche. Cuando está oscuro y estoy sola. Me marean y me dan calor…—respondió con dificultad, sintiendo como las palabras quedaban atoradas en su garganta y como sus mejillas ardían de vergüenza ante lo siguiente que dijo. —Pienso en él cuando me toco, Padre.

Y en ese preciso momento T/n deseaba profundamente que el suelo se abriera y la tragara por completo, pero aún así no podía dejar de hablar, no ahora que parte del secreto que la atormentaba estaba a la vista, necesitaba compartirlo todo, no pensaba seguir cargando con esa culpa sola, y no le importaban las consecuencias que vendrían con eso.

—Trato de no hacerlo, sé que está mal, pero no puedo, trato de pensar en alguien sin rostro, pero no puedo sacar su rostro de mi cabeza. Su voz. Trato de pensar en alguien menos en él, pero no puedo detenerme.

Su respiración era rápida y agitada, sentía como si acabara de subir corriendo tres tramos de escaleras. Las palmas de sus manos estaban pegajosas por el sudor y como pudo las limpió en la tela de su falda sintiendo su cuerpo arder en calor, y por una fracción de segundo, se le ocurrió correr, salir corriendo de ahí al aire frío de la noche, el hecho que el Padre Seokjin no hubiera dicho ni una sola palabra acerca de su confesión la hacía sentir mucho más nerviosa, completamente segura de que él la reprendería por tener ese tipo de pensamientos, que le diría que estaba condenada al infierno por ese pecado, pero lo siguiente que escuchó la dejó congelada en su lugar.

—Hazlo.

Esa palabra del Padre Seokjin sonó como un trueno dentro de la iglesia.

—¿Qué? —preguntó incrédula, sin entender exactamente lo que dijo.

—Muéstrame. —El Padre Seokjin corrigió rápidamente antes de que se escuchara un sonido resbaladizo, como si se hubiera humedecido los labios con su lengua.— Muéstrame tu pecado.

Y ante eso lo único que T/n pudo hacer fue jadear por lo bajo, esperaba internamente la broma, la risa, que él estuviera bromeando, pero eso nunca llegó. Y en cambio, sólo hubo silencio. Por primera vez miró hacia un lado, buscando alguna señal del Padre Seokjin pero todo lo que vio a través de la rejilla fue el contorno aproximado de su perfil.

Antes de que T/n pudiera reaccionar, vergonzosamente, su cuerpo lo hizo primero, reaccionando por completo a su voz, su piel se calentó más que el mismo sol, sus pezones se irguieron debajo de su blusa y el familiar cosquilleo se acentuó entre sus piernas como si se hubiera tratado de una orden del Padre Seokjin.

Apenas y pudo murmurar un pequeño asentimiento antes de hacer exactamente lo que le había dicho, T/n podía escuchar el latido de su corazón retumbando en sus oídos y el ritmo incierto de su respiración mientras separaba de a poco sus piernas para deslizar su mano entre sus muslos.

Su estomago se contrajo abrupatmente cuando sus dedos hicieron contacto con su centro vestido y su respiración se cortó aún más al sentir la pequeña macha de humedad en sus bragas, joder, había estado sufriendo tanto por esto que ni se habia dado cuenta, pero era algo obvio, el Pade Seokjin siempre había tenido un efecto especial en ella, y lo corroboró cuando presionó ligeramente sobre su clítoris, mordiéndose el labio inferior para evitar gemir demasiado pronto y sujetandose con fuerza del borde el asiento con su mano disponible.

La culpa y la excitación se retorcían dentro de su cuerpo, una con la otra, luchando por ver cual tendría el control, sus dedos se movían tan lentamente, torturándose a sí misma y con su respiración agitándose cada vez más con cada débil movimiento sobre su clítoris, estaba demasiado metida en sus propias sensaciones que apenas y fue consciente de la misma respiración agitada del Padre Seokjin, y cuando se dio cuenta de eso T/n no pudo evitar preguntarse qué estaba haciendo en su lado de la cabina, se preguntaba dónde estaban sus manos, tal vez agarrando sus rodillas o apretando con fuerza la tela de sus pantalones, o tal vez en otra parte; subiendo por sus muslos hasta…

—Oh, Seokjin… —T/n gimió por lo bajo antes de taparse la boca con su mano libre para sofocar otro gemido, aunque fue demasiado tarde para que el Padre Seokjin lo escuchara a la perfección.

—¿Es eso lo que haces? —El Padre preguntó con su voz baja y ronca, enviándole un escalofrío de deseo al rojo vivo a T/n por su columna vertebral, casi pudiendo escuchar su sonrisita al otro lado con lo siguiente que dijo. —¿Cuando te tocas dices mi nombre, paloma?

—Padre, por favor yo no… -T/n balbuceó ahogando un nuevo gemido ante otro movimiento de sus dedos, incapaz de poder mentirle ahora.

—No mientas paloma, la forma en que dijiste mi nombre, suena tan familiar. Como si hubieras hecho esto antes. —El Padre agregó con soberbia, había una oscuridad en su voz que T/n nunca había escuchado en él.

—Oh, Dios… —Un nuevo jadeo se derritió en sus labios sin poder ocultarlo, sus caderas se movieron hacia enfrente y contra su palma, buscando desesperadamente un poco más de fricción para su clítoris necesitado, la culpa se estaba comiendo sus entrañas, pero no podía detenerse.— Padre, por favor, siento que empiezan a corromperme de nuevo…

Y con eso los ojos del Padre Seokjin se iluminaron en puro deseo, agradeciendo que ella no pudiera verlo.— ¿Ahora mismo?

—Sí, los pensamientos están volviendo, Padre… —T/n asintió con la cabeza con furia, como si él pudiera verla moviendo sus dedos con más fuerza sobre su centro ahora empapado con su humedad, mojándole los dedos vergonzosamente.

Inesperadamente se escuchó un tintineo metálico al otro lado de la cabina y a T/n se le cortó el aliento al darse cuenta. Su cinturón, el Padre Seokjin se estaba desabrochando el cinturón, mierda, mierda. Cerró los ojos con fuerza intentando alejarse de eso, pero aún podía escuchar el roce de su cinturón cuando el cuero se movió contra sus trabillas y simplemente no pudo evitar imaginarse la forma en que se veía su mano sobre el bulto de sus pantalones.

—Dime de quien se tratan, paloma. —El Padre pidió en medio de un suspiro pesado y T/n juró que su cuerpo tembló sobre el asiento al escucharlo.

—Se tratan de ti Padre, siempre has sido tu… —Admitió entrecortado presionando con más fuerza sobre su clítoris, lo necesitaba, demasiado, era casi carnal la necesidad que tenía por él.

Una especie de calor perverso le atravesó el pecho al Padre Seokjin, casi como un sentimiento de orgullo al escuchar a su pequeña paloma admitiendo que él era el que la hacía pecar, que él era el protagonista de sus fantasías como ella lo era de las suyas, era perfecto y eso le hizo apretar con más fuerza el eje de su miembro duro por encima de la tela de su boxer, casi gruñendo al imaginarse que era T/n la que estaba entre sus rodillas dándole la misma atención con su propia mano.

—¿Yo? —Él se rió entre dientes mientras la seguía escuchando sollozar y gemir por lo bajo, casi deseando poder estar con ella para ver como aliviaba el calor de su cuerpo.— No eres tan pura como yo pensaba, ¿verdad paloma?

—Por favor, Padre…— T/n gimoteó una vez más, presionando sus muslos juntos y moviendo sus caderas con fuerza contra su mano.— Por favor, ayúdame a deshacerme de estos deseos…

Y con eso el Padre Seokjin ensanchó su sonrisa, ¿Quién era él para negarle a su linda palomita que la librara de sus deseos carnales? Después de todo, ese era su deber como sacerdote, ¿no es así? Limpiar a los pecadores de sus pecados, y qué mejor manera que hacer lo mismo con ella, limpiar esos pensamientos pecaminosos de su linda cabecita y devolverle la pureza.

Hubo un silencio después de su ruego hacia el Padre que rápidamente fue cortado por un ruido repentino, demasiado rápido para que T/n lo procesara antes de parpadear ante la luz que inundó la pequeña cabina, y cuando pudo ver con claridad el Padre Seokjin estaba de pie frente a ella, su barbilla está inclinada hacia un lado, el cinturón de su pantalón colgaba pesado hacia ambos lados, la cremallera estaba abierta y una mancha oscura y húmeda decoraba el contorno de su dura erección haciéndola jadear sin ser capaz de cerrar sus piernas ante la imagen cuando el Padre Seokjin rápidamente apretó con sus manos su pantalón, levantando la tela para poder arrodillarse frente a ella.

—Padre…— T/n susurró por lo bajo, sin poder recordar ninguna palabra excepto su título mientras lo veía hundirse entre sus piernas para tomarla por el cuello con una de sus manos, su palma ancha se envolvió alrededor de su garganta antes de inclinarse hacia ella y perseguir su boca ansioso con la de él.

Sus rosados labios se estrellaron con firmeza contra los de ella, y T/n sintió como si estuviera en la puerta del cielo y jadeó contra su boca al darse cuenta de que el Padre Seokjin besaba como un hombre hambriento.

Su cuerpo cayó en un flujo intenso con sus labios unidos a los del otro, sus manos se ajustaron a sus anchos hombros y los arañó por encima de su camisa negra, desesperada por más. Toda la mente de T/n se nubló con la sensación de él, con su aroma, con su sabor, con cada presión de sus labios sobre los de ella y sintiendo como acariciaba su cuello suavemente, rozando sus dedos sobre su pulso antes de presionar con la fuerza suficiente para hacerla jadear sobre su boca y él aprovechó la oportunidad para meter su lengua en la de ella, y rápidamente sus lenguas se enredaron en una danza ardiente, sin necesidad de música, solo el ritmo recién descubierto de sus lenguas, dientes y labios.

—Seokjin… —la voz de T/n tembló mientras respiraba su nombre en una oración entrecortada contra su boca apenas separándose de él.

—Sí, cariño, estoy aquí. —El Padre respondió de la misma forma antes de volver a presionar otro beso voraz en sus labios, ajustando sus manos en su cintura para acercarla lo más posible a su cuerpo, y T/n dejó escapar un suspiro de alivio ante su entusiasmo por continuar.

—Lo siento, sé que no debería… no debería quererte así, pero…— T/n se lamentó de la misma forma ajustando sus manos en su cuello blanco y clerical, el recordatorio de que esto estaba mal, pero no pudo hacerle mucho caso a sus culpables pensamientos cuando sintió al Padre Seokjin tomar sus piernas con sus manos para ajustarlas en su cintura firmemente.

—Está bien, paloma. —Arrulló con su voz ronca volviendo a atrapar sus labios en otro beso, mordisqueando su labio inferior y escuchándola gemir desde lo más profundo de su pecho antes de tomar su mano y guiarla hacia abajo hasta dejarla sobre su entrepierna.— Sigue adelante, cariño. Sigue tocandote para mi.

Y con eso ultimo T/n ahogó otro gemido contra sus labios, volviendo a frotar sus dedos una y otra vez sobre su botón de placer, amando la fricción que se producía entre sus torsos presionados el uno con el otro y de sus respiraciones agitadas coreando el pequeño y santo espacio en el que estaban.

—Pensé que me dirias que debía dejar de pecar…— T/n se las arregló para murmurar aquello descansando su frente contra la de él, sonriendo tontamente al escucharlo reír contra sus mejillas.

—No creo que un pecador pueda decirle a otro que se detenga.— El Padre afirmó con sorna en su voz, presionando la parte inferior de su cuerpo para que estuviera al ras con la de él, situándose mejor entre sus piernas y viéndola jadear cuando su pelvis se hundió contra su entrepierna.

No había mucho espacio en la pequeña cabina, pero eso solo los acercó aún más mientras T/n le rodeaba el cuello con los brazos con fuerza; podía sentir su erección hurgando sobre su núcleo vestido, y no había nada más que quisiera que arrancar la tela que se interponía entre sus cuerpos.

El beso acalorado se estaba convirtiendo en algo más. El Padre trazó sus cálidos besos con la boca abierta por el arco de su cuello, hasta la base de tu garganta antes de darle un suave mordisco, sus labios rosados se cerraron alrededor del área, succionando y chupando su piel suavemente, haciendo que T/n exhalara un gemido estrangulado, el volumen se elevó un poco por encima de los sonidos de sus respiraciones agitadas pero tampoco les importó demasiado. Rápidamente las manos de T/n abandonaron su cuello y aflojaron los primeros botones de su blusa, invitando a la boca atenta y pecadora del Padre Seokjin a bajar un poco más, y él por supuesto que estaba más que ansioso por responder a su deseo.

Su cabeza bajó por tu cuello, tomándose el tiempo para besar minuciosamente tu piel caliente, acariciando su rostro entre tus pechos y un escalofrío recorrió el cuerpo de T/n al sentir la punta de su nariz rozar la curvatura de uno de sus senos antes de que su lengua caliente saliera para lamer su pezón endurecido a través de la delgada tela de su blusa, haciéndola gemir con fuerza y taparse la boca desesperadamente para evitar hacer más ruido.

—Dios se tomó su tiempo cuando te hizo para mi, paloma.— El Padre Seokjin murmuró sobre su pecho continuando con el implacable ataque de su lengua sobre su pezón, desviando su vista hacia arriba y hacia su rostro solo para verla con la cabeza hacia atrás contra la pared de madera y con sus labios entreabiertos, y se apresuró a elevar su otra mano para masajear su seno descuidado.

T/n sentia que podia morir feliz justo ahora, siendo torturada con sus bonitos labios y su caliente lengua una y otra vez, podía sentir como la tela de su blusa estaba empapada con su saliva por la forma en que se adhería a su piel, haciéndola jadear ante la deliciosa fricción en su sensible brote y removerse en el asiento y que sus caderas se frotaran contra su dura erección.

Y antes de pasar al otro lado, el Padre Seokjin le dio otra perversa succión a su pezón riendo por lo bajo de cómo su cuerpo se sacudió debajo de él y su voz salió ahogada en medio del beso de transición a su otro seno.

—Eres celestial, más de lo que podría haber imaginado.— Afirmó cuando su dedo encontró el tramo húmedo de tela, jugando con su sensible pezón una y otra vez, casi volviéndola loca y haciendo que ajustara sus movimientos con su cadera, prácticamente frotando su centro húmedo contra su dura erección atrapada en sus pantalones; haciéndolo ahogar un gruñido contra su seno ante la fricción.

Sus cuerpos seguían completamente vestidos, nunca antes habían estado tan excitados como ahora que su sucia fantasía se estaba haciendo realidad, la espalda de T/n se arqueó más hacia su boca, buscando su calor, rogando por mas, tenia miedo que esto fuera solo un sueño, uno más entre muchos que había tenido con el Padre Seokjin.

Sabía que ya había probado la fruta prohibida y, como un adicta, solo podía rogar por más. Sus indecentes oraciones de más se convirtieron en susurros en el momento en que escapaban de sus labios hinchados de tanto morderlos, y ni siquiera pudo mantener el volumen bajo cuando lo sintió morder con fuerza su pezón al mismo tiempo que sus manos deslizaron sus bragas por sus piernas en un rápido movimiento; el escozor de su mordida y el aire frío golpeando la piel sensible de su entrada convirtieron sus silenciosos gemidos en un grito agudo que reverberó desde el espacio confinado del confesionario hacia la extensión silenciosa y resonante de la iglesia.

Ni siquiera pudo reaccionar cuando el Padre Seokjin tomó sus piernas para colocarlas sobre sus hombros, arrodillándose por completo frente a ella y haciéndola estremecerse aún más al sentir su aliento caliente y agitado abanicar su sensible entrada.

—Eres como un ángel puesto delante de mi.— El Padre Seokjin volvió a hablar entrecortado, viéndola desde abajo morderse el labio para evitar gemir cuando deslizó uno de sus dedos entre sus pliegues resbaladizos, recogiendo su humedad solo para llevárselo a la boca y chuparlo ruidosamente; ronroneando gustoso al probar su sabor.

La vista que T/n tenia era algo completamente digno de contemplar, era algo que pensaba que nunca pasaría, pero ahora aquí estaba; viendo los ojos oscuros y cargados de placer del Padre Seokjin mientras se relamía sus labios enrojecidos por todos los besos que se habían dado, terminando de degustar los restos de su sabor justo antes de formar una sonrisita maliciosa y susurrar acaloradamente sobre su centro.

—Sabes a cielo, paloma, déjame adorarte…

Y tan pronto como dijo eso su cabeza se hundió por completo entre sus piernas y la vista de él desapareció detrás de tus párpados cuando los cerraste ante el primer contacto de sus labios sobre tu clítoris hinchado y necesitado.

Empezó despacio, perezosamente, como si tuviera todo el tiempo del mundo, la mano de T/n se movió para tomar un puño de su cabello; tirando de los suaves mechones ansiosa y desesperada cuando su lengua caliente salió para lamer y chupar entre sus pliegues una y otra vez, le gustaba demasiado esto, la sensación de que el Padre Seokjin la devoraba, succionando su pequeño clítoris cada vez más fuerte que le fue imposible no enredar sus dedos entre su cabello para guiarlo hacia arriba y abajo mientras elevaba sus caderas para encontrar su lengua, y él se dejó hacer, no había nada que hubiera deseado más que probar su sabor justo como ahora lo estaba haciendo, podía sentir que su pequeña paloma estaba punto de romperse, el agudo gemido que soltó y el temblor de sus piernas se lo hizo saber, y justo cuando estaba listo para tomar todo de su dulce orgasmo su voz lo regresó a la realidad.

—Jin, porfavor, necesito sentirte dentro de mi…— T/n rogó tan dulcemente a sus oídos que al Padre le fue imposible no obedecer sus plegarias.

Le dio unas últimas lamidas en su entrada y clítoris antes incorporarse y colocarse de nuevo entre sus piernas sintiendo como las manos de T/n volaban hacia los botones de su cuello y camisa, comenzándolos a soltar desesperadamente y él hizo lo mismo con su pantalón, apretando su mandíbula con fuerza ante la dolorosa fricción de la tela de su boxer cuando finalmente liberó su miembro; viéndolo salir disparado hacia arriba completamente duro e hinchado, tuvo que reprimir una risita al verla relamerse los labios ante la vista y se apresuró a separar aún más sus piernas, siseando cuando apoyó su miembro contra su entrada para comenzar a deslizar la punta de su pene entre sus pliegues, cubriéndola con su humedad y haciéndole saber cuán grande era y cuán profundo estaría dentro de ella.

El Padre se inclinó sobre su cuerpo, volviendo a tomarla por su cuello para encontrar sus labios una vez más, jugando con su lengua y mordisqueando su labio inferior para amortiguar su gemido cuando comenzó a empujar de a poco la punta de su pene a través de su entrada, chistando suavemente al sentir su cuerpo estremecerse mientras su interior se apretaba imponente alrededor de su duro eje.

—Es… demasiado grande…— T/n jadeó luchando por asimilarlo, y le resultó difícil formar esas palabras en su estado sin aliento sintiendo su miembro empujarse contra cada parte de ella, hambriento de más, alentando a su interior a aceptarlo más profundamente, y el Padre Seokjin gimió en tu boca, con una voz ronca y áspera.

—Puedes tomarlo, paloma…— El padre siseó ajustando sus manos en tu cintura con fuerza, ayudándote a aceptar su tamaño mientras seguía empujándose dentro, hundiéndose cada vez mas hasta la base de su pene, gruñendo cuando terminó de empujar los últimos centímetros de su longitud dentro de ella.— Joder, te sientes increíble…

Aquel gruñido poco después de tocar fondo hizo que a T/n se le cortara la respiración, la quemadura dentro de ella hizo que su cabeza se confundiera de felicidad mientras luchaba por ajustarse a su tamaño, y aunque el Padre Seokjin estuviera un tanto abrumado con la estrechez que lo rodeaba, fue lo que lo animó a comenzar a marcar un ritmo lento y constante dentro y fuera de ella, hundiendo su rostro en su cuello, volviendo a salpicar toda su piel con besos húmedos y calientes.

T/n se sentía en el cielo con cada una de sus embestidas profundas y duras, sus sueños y pensamientos pecaminosos nunca lograrían compararse a la realidad de estar siendo follada por el Padre Seokjin, todo se sentía mil veces mejor, su polla la llenaba de una forma tan deliciosa y los gemidos que goteaban como miel de sus labios la dejaban delirando por más, sus uñas se deslizaban y dejaban marcas rojizas por su pecho y hombros, el sudor que caía por sus sienes hasta su cuello lo hacían ver incluso más tentador y la hinchazón de sus labios la hacían querer volver a besarlo.

A tientas extendió una mano para sostenerse de algo, cualquier cosa, y cuando su mano agarró el crucifijo que colgaba de su cuello, tiró con fuerza de él como si fuera una correa, acercando al Padre hacia ella viéndolo lanzarle una sonrisita siniestra justo antes de besarlo con fuerza, gimiendo contra sus labios cuando sus embestidas se volvieron brutales y profundas, su pelvis chocaba contra sus caderas de una forma tan deliciosa, los sonidos húmedos y lascivos de su polla hundiéndose una y otra vez en su coño llenaban sus oídos y la dejaban delirando sintiendo como el nudo apretado de su orgasmo amenazaba con romperse en cualquier momento.

—Oh Dios, Jin estoy tan cerca…— T/n lloriqueó contra él sintiendo su aliento caliente y rápido contra la piel de su cuello, haciéndola sentir cada vez mas humeda.— Voy a correrme… —advirtió con su respiración atascada en la garganta y con los latidos de su corazón martillando en su pecho con fuerza.

—Hazlo, paloma…— El Padre gimió sin aliento acariciando su mejilla caliente y luego la comisura de su labio, deleitándose con su simple belleza en su punto máximo de placer justo antes de volver a atrapar su pecho entre sus dientes, sintiéndola removerse y arquear su espalda aún más contra su boca mientras seguía chupando y mordisqueando con fuerza su endurecido pezón una y otra vez.

En algún punto de la desastrosa mente de T/n esperaba que eso dejara marcas en su piel, entonces, podrían servirle como un recordatorio de a quién le pertenecía, la pelvis del Padre se acercó a su centro cada vez más errático y desesperado, todo su cuerpo rebota sobre su pene, el ardor en sus piernas mezclado con la fuerza de sus embestidas la estaba empujando a un punto sin retorno, al borde del límite, y fue justo ahí cuando lo sintió arrastrar una mano por su cuerpo sudoroso hasta llegar al centro de sus piernas para comenzar a frotar su botón de placer con su pulgar una y otra vez antes de ordenar entre dientes.

—Correte para mí, paloma.

Y eso fue suficiente para que su orgasmo la atravesara como si se tratara de un resplandor celestial, todo su cuerpo tembló en sus brazos sintiendo como los espasmos de placer la hacían sentirse finalmente llena y satisfecha, su interior se apretó con fuerza alrededor de su miembro, aprisionándolo dentro de ella y cubriéndolo con su orgasmo, haciéndolo murmurar su nombre una y otra vez, como si se tratara de una oración divina.

Ni siquiera pudo evitar lloriquear por lo bajo cuando el Padre Seokjin besó suavemente su frente, sus mejillas y luego sus labios para salir de a poco de su interior, toda ella se sintió de nuevo vacía y buscó la mirada del Padre cuando se puso de pie frente a ella, sus ojos recorrieron su torso desnudo y cubierto de un sudor reluciente, siguiendo hasta su miembro aun duro y pesado que la hizo suspirar, y cuando lo escuchó hablar todo su cuerpo recibió una corriente eléctrica.

—Ven aqui, paloma.— Ordenó con su voz ronca y profunda al mismo tiempo que su mano bombeaba de a poco su pene, y su mirada se oscureció aún más al ver lo rápido que T/n se arrodillo frente a él, como si hubiera querido esto desde un principio.

Sus ojitos brillantes lo saludaron desde abajo, mirándolo con total adoracion cuando enredó sus dedos en su cabello alborotado para guiar su boca hacia su pelvis, gruñendo por lo bajo cuando la calidez de su boca y lengua envolvieron la punta de su pene; primero dándole una pequeña lamida, sonriendo cuando lo vio suspirar temblorosamente antes de tomar una porción completa en su boca sin dejar de mirarlo a los ojos.

El Padre Seokjin echó su cabeza hacia atrás y sus labios se abrieron en gesto de puro placer mientras seguía sintiendo como los labios de su paloma tomaban todo de él cómo una buena niña, su respiración se cortó cuando la sintió elevar una de sus manos para envolverla en su grosor y comenzar a masajear las partes que no alcanzaba con su boca, y cuando abrió sus ojos mirando hacia abajo, la imagen fue lo mas caliente que alguna vez se llegó a imaginar, el agarre en su cabello se apretó con fuerza y su respiración se agitó sintiendo que estaba a punto de perderse, y su teoría fue cierta, porque cuando sintió a T/n lamer y chupar su uretra fue que se derramó en su boca con un audible gruñido.

Le tomó unos segundos recuperarse de todo lo que acababa de pasar, sintiendo su pecho agitado y tratando de regular su respiración acelerada, y cuando finalmente miro hacia abajo ni siquiera pudo luchar contra la sonrisa de orgullo que se formó en su rostro, viendo sus ojitos brillantes y como unas gotas de su semen escurrían de la comisura de su labio, haciéndolo elevar su pulgar para reunirlas y volver a introducirlo en su boca, riendo entre dientes al sentir como su lengua lamía su pulgar degustando las últimas gotas hasta dejarlo limpio.

—Creo que tus pecados han sido perdonados.— Dijo suavemente despues de unos segundos, el olor a sexo se mezclaba con el incienso que se filtraba desde el santuario y sonrió al notar su mirada confundida.

—Pero Padre, si mis pecados han sido perdonados, ¿Por qué sigo pensando en ti? —T/n preguntó volviendo a su actitud inocente y volviendo a usar su título después de todo lo que había pasado, viéndolo reír por lo bajo mientras se inclinaba para estar a su nivel, sus mejillas fueron aplastadas con una de sus manos antes de recibir un febril beso en sus labios.

—Bueno, quizás ahora yo soy el pecado con el que deberás cargar, paloma.

N/A: Buenoo hace calor, no? Si asi lo sientes será mejor que sigas al siguiente oneshot de este pequeño maratón pupi! Espero que este gustando mucho estas historias titis, las estaré leyendo y díganme cual está siendo su favorita. ♡ next

taglist: @guvgguk @lessuwu @cometaart @AnnieKCV @darysnowflwr @nunubly @choco-linny @aavacaf @DannaHaz @wtffktt7 @minmin-cat @18fernanda @ariggukie @ Katherine Murillo @holiwui032 @lizxz @onixbae02 @piligt @youtis @tessacereza

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dumpywrites · 5 months ago

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Fish in Disguise - Jin / Kim Seokjin

Prompt: Sworn enemies by day, restaurant mascot by night.

Prompt request: HERE

Genre/tags: Fluff, enemies to lovers(?), university au, they are both dumb lol

Pairing: Jin x she/her reader

a/n: Welcome home Jin!!! 💜 I was saving the only one Jin request I got to post it on his coming back date, but I didn’t finish it on time 😔

Your life was simple. You attend your classes by day and help your family’s restaurant by night.

How you wished it was that easy though. You were on the verge of failing your classes, trying to balance your studies, social life, and work. All that while trying to make sure you get a good rest, which honestly, you had not been having in quite some time.

The days were not exactly the smoothest ride. Being someone who was new to the town, you needed some time of getting used to. It was a big decision your parents made to move to a new city, but as their only daughter, you supported them fully.

One thing that somehow helped you get through the day was this tuna mascot of a seafood restaurant next to yours. Yes, a mysterious man who refused to show you his face, in a full tuna fish costume, who you got to meet every weekend.

The first meeting the tuna intern was actually kind of wholesome. You were helping your family setting up the store and he just appeared to be there, standing with a sign that had something about the freshness of their seafood written on it. The fact that he dropped the sign and helped you carry two boxes while still being in his full attire, still amused you until this day.

And that was how your friendship bloomed. You would occasionally visit him and or just to say hi when he worked his shift. In return, he cheered you up with just simply being there. Sometimes meeting him and talking about random nothings just made you forget all your worries.

“I heard you got paired with Seokjin for the group project.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” You said to your friend as you yawned.

“Why? He’s hot.”

“And a narcissist.”

“And still hot.” Your friend argued and laughed. “Stop being so sulky, I bet everyone’s jealous of you right now.”

“Minji, he’s dumb. Have you seen his test results?! I don’t want to fail history class just because of him!”

“You’ll be fine! Plus, since he’s really easy on the eyes, just make him do the whole presentation and that’ll get you good grades.” Minji laughed again.

“Ugh.” You rolled your eyes, as you kept your focus on your phone instead, scrolling through Instagram.

“Why do you hate him so much anyway?” Your friend asked as she mimicked you slumping on the cafe table.

“I don’t… it’s just.” You sighed. “I don’t know, he’s cute but he really didn’t have to rub it in my face like that.”

“You’re still not over that?”

Once upon a time you were at your campus festival. Enjoying your freshmen days, simply admiring people doing all the festivities from afar while you sip on your lemonade. The crowd felt a little bit overwhelming, intimidating even, since it had been only a week since you enrolled.

That day was also the first time you met your friend Minji, the girl who was also a freshmen like you. You both were lost trying to find the main hall and somehow bumped into each other.

Both of you were just passing through the food stalls and club fair when you came across a juice bar. You noticed how there were two attractive men in the booth. Clearly whatever their team or club was trying to do, was working because you and your friend stopped to sneak a look.

One guy was extremely well built and had tattoos all over his right hand. The inks and piercings definitely did not match his doe-looking eyes though. On the other hand, the second guy looked like a prince. He had the most luscious lips and his skin was so clear that he looked like he might modeled for a skin care brand. The light brown hair was permed and styled. You also thought his smile looked very pretty.

“Hello! We’re selling fruit juice to support our music club!” The one with tattoos kindly waved at you and Minji.

“Oh my, they’re cute…” Minji whispered to you and practically dragged you closer to the stall.

“We have strawberry, orange, mango, and peach.” The taller one mentioned with a grin.

“You guys are really cute, you sure they didn’t tell you to watch the booth just because of that?” Minji chuckled.

“I’m aware, not sure why they picked Jungkook right here when he could barely talk to women, but yeah.” The guy said proudly.

“That’s not nice.” You said bluntly.

“Oh, that’s just how he jo—“ Jungkook spoke, but was soon interrupted.

“Why, you don’t think I’m good looking?” The man eyed you, judging.

“I think you’re full of yourself.”

You heard Minji called your name in a low voice, trying to calm you down, but you refused to listen.

“So you’re not denying that I’m good looking.” The man smirked at you as he scoffed.

That comeback gave you the biggest ick and you proceeded to link your friend’s arm in yours. “Let’s go, we’re not buying shit from them.”

You dragged your friend away as you listened to the man who turned out to be Seokjin himself, whined from a distance.

Ever since that scene, you swore you wanted nothing to do with the music club. It sounded pretty unfair considering you only despised Jin and the rest of the members did not wrong you in any way, but you had already made up your mind. That was until he failed art history class and now had to retake the subject, hence how you ended up being misfortune enough to get grouped up with him.

“Look, do you wanna do this project or not?” You folded your arms and crossed your legs.

In the library, you sat down eye to eye with your worst nightmare himself, the self proclaimed “World Wide Handsome”, Kim Seokjin. You both had agreed to meet up for the project but you didn’t realize it would be this irritating. Hell, as much as he was easy on the eyes as your friend claimed, all you wanted to do was to leave and stay far far away from him.

“I just don’t get why I have to do all the verbal work here.” He complained.

“You barely did the slides and research, of course you have to.”

“That’s because you just decided it by yourself??? I never told you to do all the work!” The guy said, now crossing his hands back at you.

“You see why? Because this.” You pointed back and forth between the two of you. “How can we get any work done when all we do is argue when we are together?!”

“Why do you hate me so much?”

The seriousness in Jin’s eyes scared you. He was staring straight into your soul and you did not like how it made you feel. Not even one bit.

“Because you’re conceited.”

“And the problem?”

“See?!”

“We’ve never been in normal conversation before, you can’t just decide that.”

Once again your eyes met his and you felt stuffy, nervous, but mostly anger. The thing was, you began to question yourself. Was the excessive anger really necessary or were you biased because of the bad start? Not like any of that mattered anyway.

“Screw you.”

You stormed out the library, making sure you stomped extra hard, childishly so he could see how pissed off you were.

“Someone’s in a bad mood…”

“Oh, hi.” You waved at the moving Tuna mascot, trying to form a smile. “I’m just really tired today, that’s all.”

“Aww, come tell papa tuna about it.”

He moved closer to you as you kept wiping the tables. It was already at closing hour and he should be off his shift right now. It was sweet how he sometimes would stay longer just to accompany you cleaning.

“Eww, since when do I call you papa?” You cringed, but laughed. “Don’t tell me you’re like super old or something?”

“Oh, I’m older than you alright.” He chuckled.

“How do you know?”

“I just know.” He patted his chest through the costume. “So? What’s wrong?”

“I kinda have this group project.” You said, hands still spraying cleaning products onto the table. “And I got paired with someone I don’t particularly like.”

“Oh…” He muttered. There was a hint of disappointment in his voice and you wondered why.

“It’s fine, the project’s almost done anyways.” You smiled at him and moved to the next table. “You’re not going home?”

“I might stay for a couple of minutes.” He took the empty seat not too far from you. “I don’t have morning class tomorrow.”

“You’re also in uni?”

“That’s for you to find out.” He snickered. “Anyways, tell me more. What’s bothering you?”

“Okay, you tell me. Am I wrong if I dislike someone because they’re like, I don’t know, so full of themselves?”

“Hmm.” The tuna guy put his hand under his chin comically, making him look funny and adorable. “Have you maybe try talking with them about it?”

“Why would I? He clearly doesn’t want anything to with me.” You sighed.

“Has he ever said that to you?”

“Well no, but that’s not really necessary when his action is already telling me that…”

He went quiet for a second, humming to himself before responding. “You’re right. Maybe he made a bad impression. But maybe, just maybe, if you give him a chance he could be a decent person?”

“I don’t know, he’s very popular and there’s really no reason to talk with him anyways.” You shrugged.

“Right…”

“But I kinda feel bad for walking away from him today.” You said with a sad expression.

“How so…?”

“Dunno, maybe I shouldn’t just decided on my own and did all the paperwork myself…”

“Maybe you should apologize?” The guy said in an unsure tone.

“I don’t know how.” You sighed. “What if he just laugh at me or something?”

“He wouldn’t. Trust me.”

You didn’t know why, but his words sounded weirdly assuring. “I’ll think about it.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” The guy gave you two thumbs up.

“It’s getting late, you should head back. Being a tuna for hours must be tiring.” You smiled at him. “Oh, wait.”

“What is it?”

You quickly ran back inside, leaving the man in the costume alone sitting on one of your restaurant tables. When you came back, you had one plastic container with a few pieces of fried chicken inside.

“Here.” You extended your arm to him with a big grin. “You must be hungry after standing up all night.”

“You don’t have to!” He suddenly stood up.

“I insist.” You grabbed his fluffy arm and put the container in his hands. “As a thanks, for being my friend.”

“Come here I need to hug you for this.”

You laughed and gave him a big hug. “You’re so fluffy!”

He patted your head playfully. “Don’t rub your face on me, they never wash this costume.”

“Eww.” You scrunched your nose and quickly let him go. “I’ll see you next week?”

“Yeah.”

Today, you had decided to finally swallow your ego and actually try to have a normal and functional conversation with Jin. It was almost surreal to think that you practically swore to have nothing to do with the music club, but now here you were, standing right in front of their club room.

It took you almost ten minutes of pacing back and forth before you finally knocked on their door. The response was not immediate, as their room was loud, filled with music instruments playing. Once the door opened, someone with a very warm smile greeted you. The colorful outfit and his tinted glasses made him look so hip, you thought. He held the door slightly ajar, just enough to fit his body to peek at you.

“Hello, what can I do for you?”

“Hi, uh… I’m Y/N and I’m looking for Seokjin? Is he here?”

The guy widened his eyes and looked back inside the loud room. “Yeah, he’s here.”

“Cool. Can I maybe borrow him for a few minutes? He’s my history project partner…” You said and smiled awkwardly.

“Do you wanna come inside?”

“H-huh?” You pointed at yourself. “Me?”

“Who else.” The guy chuckled. “We’re almost done but you might need to wait for him to wrap up.”

You replied with a skeptical “okay” and quietly followed the man from behind. The sound of drums and laughter filled the room and the bright decorations matched the vibe and atmosphere the place was giving. There were a few people inside and one was the boy with tattoos that you recognized from before.

“Usually we have more people around, but there wasn’t any official activity today so it’s just us.” The guy who opened the door for you explained. “I’m Hoseok by the way, you can call me Hobi. Want me to introduce you to them?”

“Why is Y/N here?” One blond guy suddenly spoke as soon as he saw you.

“You know me?”

The guy playfully shrugged and grinned. “Jin sometimes talks about you.”

“Really?” You asked, genuinely shocked by the news.

“Uh… Jin? Jin?? Someone’s here for you.” Hoseok intervened.

“What? Who—” You heard the man shouted back, but he was unable to finish his sentence as soon as your eyes met.

“Hey, uh… can we talk for a sec? I won’t be long.” You said.

“Like right now?” He looked at you questioningly.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, give me one sec.”

“So, you’re Y/N huh?” The same blond guy came up to you from behind. “I’m Taehyung, but they call me V.”

“Stop trying to make your stage name happen, Tae.” Hoseok said. “The one with the bucket hat there, is Yoongi. The tall one is Namjoon, and Mr. Tattoos and piercings right there is Jungkook.”

“Usually our main group has one more person but Jimin’s sick at home.” Taehyung mentioned.

You nodded politely. In your head, you were still processing the information that Jin was apparently talking about you to his club friends. You wondered what made him do so. You wondered if he bad-mouthed you, if he told all the ugly things about you, telling his friends how much you annoy him.

But why do his friends just seem so… friendly? None of them acted hostile towards you. The first two that spoke to you were really nice and bubbly, and even Jungkook who was with Jin the first time you met him, smiled when he saw you. Surely they would had acted differently if Jin hated you that much.

“Alright, let’s go?” Jin approached you.

“Uh, yeah.” The newfound information got you feeling nervous.

“It was nice meeting you!” Hoseok waved at you cheerfully and the rest smiled and nodded at you as you waved back awkwardly.

“They didn’t say weird things to you right?” Jin said as soon as both of you closed the door behind. You were now walking aimlessly across the campus hallway.

“No, I guess…”

“Awesome.” He clasped his hands together. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Oh yeah that…”

Right, what was you wanted to talk about again? How could you talk when his soft fluffy hair was just there, distracting you. And now that you were standing up facing each other this close, you had never realize how well built and tall he was. Screw the universe for making him so attractive.

“Yeah?”

“I want to apologize… for last time.” You looked away, rocking your body back and forth again out of nervousness. “I’m wrong for deciding to work on the project myself. I should’ve at least try to work things out to find the middle ground with you.”

“Pfft…”

You looked at him in disbelief. How could he laugh when you were trying your best to apologize to him properly???

“Excuse me?!”

“Sorry, your expression… it’s so cute.”

“Cute?!” You were offended by this point. “Forget what I said. You’re beyond saving.”

“Wait! No, that’s not what I meant…” He tried to stop you but it was too late.

You did not want to hear more from him. Was it really that hard to just take you seriously? You felt ashamed to even think that you could at least have a normal conversation with him. You were right all along.

And so you chose to ignore him. A few days passed and it was only two days left until your final presentation. Quite frankly, you could not care less. You had given him all the material and all you needed for him to do was to just blatantly accept his role.

“Mr. Tuna?”

You were now back with your night cleaning duties again, accompanied by your fish friend. You had told him everything about what happened between you and Jin, needing reassurance and validations for being angry at him.

“He really did you know… He laughed at me.” You bit your lips, maintaining your emotions. “Do you think I’m in the wrong? I’m not, right? Like what did I do? Am I ugly? Does he not want to talk to ugly people is that it???”

“You’re not ugly.”

“Well I don’t think so either… but what if I am in his eyes??? Maybe he just doesn’t want to associate himself with—“

“I don’t think you’re ugly!!!” The guy suddenly spoke up, a little louder than he intended.

You were taken aback for a second, and smiled. “Thanks, but I was talking about that person.”

“I cannot defend him anymore, I think it’s valid for you to hate him.”

“Why do you sound so sad?”

“Would you hate me if I turned out to be someone you know?” He asked without answering your question.

“Huh? Why suddenly?”

“Just answer it.”

“I don’t know, but I guess I enjoyed talking with you and I consider you as my friend if not best friend at this point already. I don’t think it would change anything.” You assured.

“Promise?”

“Why?” You looked at him suspiciously. “You’re scaring me, am I going to get a face reveal soon?”

“Who knows.”

The presentation day finally has arrived upon you. Everyone was seated with their corresponding partners and you were still sitting alone, as Seokjin was nowhere to be seen. The class session had already begun and you were minutes away from your turn. It was unbelievable the amount of disrespect that this man chose to show to you, by not showing up at all.

Your team was next in line. At this point you had given up all hope. Maybe it was for the best that you present it yourself since you did all the research anyway.

In the midst of the presentation in front of you, you saw how everyone’s eyes shifted to the back of the class in a flash. They stopped for a brief seconds, fake coughing to regain their composure, before continuing. They occasionally stole glances up and down, eyes looking dubiously.

Your curiosity was not left hanging for too long because just seconds later, someone in a big tuna fish costume just took the seat next to you. As a matter of fact, you were very familiar with the costume itself, but the reason behind him being in your class was truly bizarre to you.

Everyone was looking at your direction at this point and you were scared to ask any question. In your head you were starting to connect some dots, but too afraid to actually confront them. Some parts of you refused to believe it.

It was too implausible for them to be the same person. One was selfish and conceited, while the other was funny and caring. There was simply just no other explanation for the situation. You began to question your own sanity. Perhaps the lack of sleep had started to catch up on you.

“I’ve read all the emails you sent me. Don’t worry, we’ll ace this.” The guy suddenly spoke.

Hearing his voice from inside the mascot suit just sealed the deal. You had been friends with the guy you despised so badly this whole time without knowing. Not only that, you basically told him stories about himself and mentioned how bad of a person you thought he was.

He stood along with you when both of your name was called, fully confirming that the name belonged to him. Everyone started whispering and some started laughing immediately upon seeing the hilarious looking costume.

“Hello everyone, we’re from team seven and we’re now about to present to you about the history of mixed media.” He waved playfully while you were standing stiff right next to him. “As you can see, I’m in this costume that I had to convince the restaurant that I work at to let me borrow.”

Everyone laughed again in unison.

“You may wonder why, and the answer is because my partner right here,” He pointed to you. “She did all the research herself because I was being a dumb jerk.” He moved his body, looking at the direction of the professor. “I know that’s not great for my name but I promise I’ve learned all the materials she had sent me well. So the least I could do to her was to give you all an entertaining presentation…”

The presentation then went on fully with him still with the suit on until the very end. All you did was simply pressing the next button as he deciphered the slides, entertaining and engaging the audiences, even the professor himself. He truly was a charming guy and no mask could hide that. You should have had realized that sooner.

It just did not make any sense to you. How could he hated you while at the same time acted like your best friend in another form?

“I’ll go change and we’ll talk?”

You just looked at him, no words at hand. Everything still felt so unreal. You watched as he strugglingly entered the washroom. He went out minutes later with sweat clinging to his t-shirt, hair damp from the heat of wearing the costume. With the set hugged in his hands, he mentioned something about sitting down somewhere, and you just followed from behind.

“Do I smell?”

You shook your head quietly.

“Oh cool.” He chuckled awkwardly. “Is my—“ He huffed before even finishing the sentence. “I’m sorry, I’m stalling.”

For some reason his smile seemed differently now that you were seeing him in a new light.

“Here I am, I guess…” He laughed nervously. “I understand if you don’t wanna be friends again after this. I just wanna say that I’m truly sorry for what I did.”

Why was he speaking like that? Why was he speaking in the way your friend spoke? All with that damn annoyingly attractive face?

“The first time we met, I was being sarcastic.” He stated. “If you actually let Jungkook finish, he was about to tell you. I love that boy a lot, he’s a really nice guy, you know.”

“You were?”

His smile brightened when you finally opened your mouth and said something. It was the first time he heard your voice today and it felt like a huge weight just lifted off his shoulders.

“And uh, about when you apologized… I honestly didn't mean to laugh. I know that's what you feared but honestly I just got nervous.”

You raised one of your eyebrows at him. “You? Nervous? I’ve seen neither Mr. Tuna or the Seokjin I know being nervous.”

“You were really cute that day.” He smiled giddily, a rosy tint covering his cheeks.

That was new.

“Oh my god, I need some getting used to seeing you say that with your real face.” You looked away, the corners of your lips curled up helplessly. “So, when I met you as Mr. Tuna you’ve already known me?”

“Yeah.” He sighed with a smile. “I’m sorry, I was a coward. I should’ve told you sooner but you keep avoiding me at campus and you don’t exactly like the real me either so…”

“But this is the real you, right? The one that helps me out and listens to me rambling every weekend?”

He nodded, making you smile. “Can we be friends?”

“We already are, dummy.”

He exhaled loudly, grinning like an idiot. “Truce?” He offered his fist.

“Truce.” You shook your head and gave him a fist bump.

“Alright, we usually finish with a hug…” He looked at you with side-eyes. “It might feel slightly different without the costume and all—“

You cut his sentence short by jumping him with a big hug, surprising the guy.

And you know what, the hug did not actually feel that much different. It was still fluffy, fuzzy, and soft like how the used costume material would rub against your skin when you hugged him. Because when he hugged you back, you were sure you felt all of that even when he was without the mascot fish attire.

You felt that inside your heart.

Prompt request: HERE

#bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts fic #kim seokjin #bts jin #jin x reader #jin x y/n #bts seokjin #seokjin x reader #seokjin fanfic #seokjin x y/n #jin fanfic #jin bts #jin fluff #jin scenarios #seokjin scenarios #jin imagine #seokjin imagine

102 notes · View notes

hueseok · 2 months ago

Text

( 01. ) GOOD GRACES.

kim seokjin doesn’t believe in luck. he’s someone who knows that in order to have good things coming your way, you have to work damn hard for it. however, that might not be the case when it comes to bad luck, because after a video of him goes viral wherein it looks like he’s screaming at someone’s grandma, he begins thinking maybe luck does exist—and it just so happens that he’s now being subjected to a lot of unluckiness.

he’s being cancelled. his career is getting destroyed. his manager is forcing him to take a hiatus. and on top of that, as if things could not get worse, the only hope he has on redeeming everything he worked hard on depends on you, the director’s daughter of the theater show that could propel him back to where he used to be.

that should have been a piece of cake. if only you weren’t his ex who he dumped via phone call and got threatened by to never show his face to ever again...

pairing: seokjin x reader

word count: 4.2k

rating: NC-17

content: fluff, light angst, humor, exes to enemies to friends to lovers au | ft. theater actor!seokjin + himbo energy!seokjin lmao, podcaster!reader + nepo baby!reader

warning/s: lots of swearing | lots of internal monologue by seokjin? lmao

[ chapter index. ]

EPISODE 01. there are worse things i could do !

seokjin never thought that the downfall of his career would happen because of a misconstrued video of him going viral where he was apparently yelling at a poor old lady in a grocery store.

but here he is, getting canceled on twitter and being informed by his manager that he was taken off the projects he was scheduled to do for the upcoming year, the brands who were once so keen on getting him on board suddenly backtracking and terminating the previously signed deals that were already discussed.

regardless of how he tried convincing yikyung, the said manager, that he wasn’t actually fighting the woman who was probably the same age as his grandmother on that short clip—and that all of this was just a stupid a misunderstanding, he’s told it’s too late. the public already made up their mind; they all hated him, and there were several gossip blogs publishing articles that had ‘receipts’ of his apparent bad and diva behavior over the span of his career.

“look, namjoon and I are working on it,” yikyung says, explaining that the PR and legal team are already in the midst of taking care of the whole problem. “but for the meantime, the best you can do is lay low for a while, buddy.”

“what?” seokjin exclaims. “are you saying—”

“you’ll be going on a hiatus.”

“hiatus,” he repeats, enunciating every syllable like he heard it wrong. he feels like he’s going to vomit, the whole room he’s in right now spinning before his eyes.

“yes. hiatus.”

god, seokjin hates that word. he’s been working his ass off since he knew how to act and sing and was the absolute fucking best at it. and now they’re putting him on a hiatus? it’s ridiculous. it’s unfair! he isn’t in some kind of boyband or anything, but he’s pretty sure that they use that term to sugarcoat the fact that the members are quitting the industry or going solo which doesn’t make sense for him so the former category is probably more applicable to his situation at the moment and—

“it’s temporary,” yikyung continues speaking, as if reading what’s going in his mind. “at most, it’ll be a year.”

that still doesn’t calm seokjin down. “you’re benching me for a year?”

“at most.”

“does it really have to be that long?”

“yeah, if we see that it’s necessary enough.”

“i don’t think a year is necessary.”

“we don’t know that yet.”

“but if you keep me away from the public that long… it's going to kill my career!”

yikyung gives him a pitiful look. “it's already dead, jin. let’s be real here.”

he gasps, genuinely offended that his manager would say such a thing. “take that back.”

“look, i’m not happy with this either,” yikyung says, “but the public needs to forget that video. It’s what everybody is talking about, it’s what every director or sponsor that’s asking us about too—nobody would want to associate themselves with your name anyway while the story’s fresh, so this hiatus won’t kill it. doing this hiatus will just induce your career into a coma. you’ll be like sleeping beauty.”

“then who’ll be the fucking prince?”

“a mindblowing project that’ll remind people that you’re the best leading man in the theater world.”

seokjin lets that sink in.

just days ago, he was being blasted with offers to do commercials and new productions due to the successful run of chicago where he portrayed billy flynn. A lot of columns praised his versatility, saying that despite reservations on how he was going to perform, he nailed the part and captured the audience’s hearts with how he made that character his own. it was the biggest ego boost he had in a while considering he was so passionate in bringing billy flynn to life and pulling off the long note he had in we both reached for the gun—now though? all the happiness that he felt before? all the acclaim he reckoned could last him a good few months to stay motivated in doing this? it’s being buried to the ground; he feels as if everything is crashing down and every good thing in his life is fading away.

guess it’s true that being too happy can cause too much sadness after.

“a year goes by so fast, you know,” yikyung tells him. “keep yourself busy. pursue other hobbies. the next time i’ll call you, i’ll make sure it’s about an offer that’ll jolt your career awake again.”

and so with no other choice, really… that’s what seokjin did.

he decides to follow yikyung’s advice and take a train back to his hometown with the plan to help his aunt run the small grocery business she had, residing there until circumstances appear better for him. he figures this break might be better than he thinks, taking into account the fact that he’s been working nonstop since he began landing solid roles years ago. maybe a restart is what he needs; maybe he can use this as an excuse to do other stuff and pursue other hobbies like he was suggested to do.

in the first month of his forced hiatus, he becomes some kind of apprentice at his aunt’s mentioned grocery store. he meets taehyung, a young man who looks way too handsome to be only arranging packed and canned goods in the aisles of the shop as another helper of his aunt; taehyung also apparently recognizes him, asking if he’s that “theater star harassing an old lady” he kept on seeing on tiktok which seokjin’s always quick to correct. taehyung never looks convinced though, regardless of how much seokjin explains, but he at least doesn’t treat him shit for some groundless scandal.

then in his second month, he begins to try pottery. there are classes for it in the same town, a 10-minute drive away and the instructor happens to be a family friend. however, after five sessions, he realizes that he’s horrible at the task and can’t produce anything that’s worth selling or admiring even. that doesn’t mean he doesn’t enjoy it though, ‘cause he does, and he still attends each class or goes on his own for the following months to use this activity as catharsis.

for the third month, he starts painting; on the fourth, he volunteers to walk the golden retriever that an elderly couple neighbor has; when the fifth month comes, he begins jogging around the area, continuing that until the sixth and seventh as he progresses to running—and then on the eight month, while he’s tending to the crops he’s growing at his aunt’s backyard, he finally gets the call from yikyung that he always pretends not to care about.

hurriedly taking off his gloves that are covered with mud, he picks up his phone from the table and answers his agent’s call. “please tell me you have something,” is what he says, not even concealing the desperation in his voice.

“i have something,” yikyung confirms, sounding excited.

“holy fuck,” he whispers to himself. he’s pacing around now, thrilled and anxious, praying to the gods of every religion that this will be a good offer. “what is it? tell me quickly.”

“they’re doing grease,” he says and seokjin does an impromptu super mario impression, just jumping all over the place because of the mention of the famous musical, the kind of musical that he knows would definitely benefit him if he wants to be within everybody’s radar again. “they already have a sandy young—it’s the producer’s niece—so now all they’re looking for is the rest of the cast. I already got you an audition for danny zuko and it’s two weeks from now.”

“god, i fucking love you, yikyung.”

“i’m amazing, aren’t I?”

“the best. you’re a goddamn gift from above.”

“and it hasn’t even been a year,” yikyung proudly points out. “you’ll be absolutely back on your feet after this project. your scandal has died down, anyway. not a lot are talking about it, and some of your fans are getting better at defending you, sharing encounter stories of their own to support the claim that you aren’t a dick who has a fetish in getting into a bickering war with an old woman.”

seokjin rolls his eyes. “never describe it that way to me again.”

yikyung chuckles. “i’ll hire a cleaning lady to clean your apartment here in the city maybe this weekend. when do you think you’ll arrive?”

“some time after the weekend. i’ll have to take care of a few things before i go.”

“like what?”

“well, believe it or not, i actually made some friends here.”

“damn. i told you this hiatus was going to be good for you.”

“yeah, you are right about that. i think it was healing for some reason. aside from the first weeks of me being depressed as fuck.”

“so, what does that mean? does this mean that you think you’ll nail the audition?”

seokjin grins. he isn’t cocky for nothing. even though it was advised to him before to lower it down a bit so that he wouldn’t come across as a complete ass, he knows he’s great at this pursuit of his. he’s charming, he has an amazing voice, and he can pull off any choreography instructed to him regardless of his initial lack of dancing abilities. being a hard worker makes you that way, and it’s what seokjin thinks will always help him in every endeavor he runs after.

“you bet, i will.”

“how’s your voice? your joints? do you need to warm up?”

“i’ve been singing for the community here every tuesday and thursday. i also haven’t been physically inactive like you think i am. i’ve been exercising regularly, improving my stamina and all that shit.”

yikyung doesn’t answer for a few seconds, a silence that seokjin translates into his manager being impressed that he hasn’t let go of himself despite the circumstances.

after a few more clarifications and reminders, the call ends and seokjin flops down on the wooden chair close to him, this goofy and giddy smile erupting on his face. it doesn’t occur to him until this moment that he’s been wishing for a miracle like this to come along because he’s been missing performing on stage like he used to do during shows and even when he’s in dance studios for the rehearsals. yeah, having a reason to take a break was nice too as he expressed, but nothing beats doing what he loves to do.

and playing danny zuko? wow, talk about a huge upgrade from being mandated by his management to disappear from the public to potentially being cast as one of john travolta’s famous roles. of course, the challenge with this is that he has to make sure that he actually gets the role, which he’s optimistic that he’ll be fine with.

his reputation may be questionable once he comes back, but there’s no denying that if there’s anyone who can emanate an arrogant greaser who cares too much about his image—it’s him.

****

seokjin’s aunt was devastated when she discovered that he’s leaving. she tried to persuade him to stay longer (if not for her, for the plants and the grocery store—and maybe the crowd of people he would sing for whenever there was an occasion in the neighborhood). however, regardless of her insistence, seokjin cannot be budged; he’s been waiting far too long for this to have second thoughts about it, to be swayed from this provincial life he has come to love and genuinely enjoy.

“are you coming back?” taehyung asked him when the news of seokjin’s immediate departure got to him too. ��because if you aren’t, can I have your bike?”

seokjin rolled his eyes. over the course of his stay, taehyung has become some sort of little brother he never had. “i’m coming back. just to visit though,” he said. “so you can have my bike.”

on the weekend before he left, he spent time with the people he befriended. he arranged a bingo session with the elderly; he ran laps with that golden retriever he took on walks every morning; he did his last piece of pottery with the instructor he also became friends with; then, on his very last night, he shared a few drinks with his aunt and taehyung, promising them that if he gets the part, they’ll have front row tickets to the show.

if not, he’ll jump off the bridge because he doesn’t think he has a face to show to anyone anymore.

he earned a slap on the arm by his aunt with that one.

everything went smoothly when he came back to his old apartment the following morning, freshly cleaned like yikyung promised. nonetheless, seokjin felt it was necessary to check every nook and cranny of the place to verify that, even going as far as examining the decorations, memorabilia, and picture frames he had on display, his finger being swiped on the most random areas to make sure that every corner was polished. nobody lived here for eight months in his defense, and he really could catch a bad case of allergic rhinitis in the case yikyung was lying. he couldn’t have that. he had his voice to take care of; there shouldn’t be snot or phlegm getting in the way of the full prowess of his vocals.

for the next few days leading up to the audition, he did everything he can to assure that he’ll be in his best state when his time to shine comes. he practiced the song sandy, a solo piece sung by danny zuko, and rehearsed the lines for the scene where danny and sandy first meet again at rydell high.

in those hours he spent talking to himself, warming up his voice, making sure that he shaped his words right and exuded the energy of the greaser he’s aiming to play, he started thinking again that he seriously got a huge chance in landing this role. he’s superb at acting; he’s certain that he has the voice needed for this part; and not to mention that he’s got the looks for it, alright. his handsomeness is certainly one of the aspects that makes him so marketable as an actor.

plus, he manages to get a positive outlook regarding this because yikyung has been great in encouraging him, sending him inspirational quotes that sometimes were borderline annoying because it had nothing to do with his situation but still touching in a way.

like right now, as seokjin waits in the holding room of the theater for the audition, he receives a message from his manager with a GIF of a maneki-neko with an oversized arm and the quote by dr. seuss saying, “you have brains in your head. you have feet in your shoes. you can steer yourself any direction you choose. you're on your own. and you know what you know. and you are the guy who'll decide where to go”.

it is a little aligned to what he’s going through right now but seokjin can’t help but still grimace in distaste.

“kim seokjin?” the casting assistant calls, and he snaps his head up from the screen of his phone to peer at the person who called him.

he stands, gaining the attention of the casting assistant. “here.”

“great. follow me please.” she smiles and begins walking to where the stage is without checking whether seokjin followed her or not.

he does, as quickly as possible, thankful because he can finally get away from that enclosed space with fellow auditionees who were either gaping at him or chatting him up, asking about the hiatus he did. he’s smart enough not to give any specific details, instead saying the standard “mental health break” or “sabbatical leave” that they seemed to buy.

walking across the stage, his eyes squint a bit at the spotlight directed to him. then, stopping at the center, he averts his gaze to the two people who are sitting on the front row seats. hyunbin park the director and seungjoon ahn the producer. they both appear serious, like they’re bored, or like they’ve been unimpressed by the roster of auditionees they’ve been having so far.

it creates a spark of hope for seokjin who’s confident that he might just be the person that’ll blow their minds for today. even though this is his first time performing in front of a professional again, he’s learned over the years to trust his skills more, and he knows that he’s definitely adept for the tryout happening at the moment.

“kim seokjin, isn’t it?” mr. Park says. he’s the more intimidating one out of the pair. he’s famous for having directed a lot of shows that got to win several trophies in every award giving body that catered to the theater industry. aside from this production being an anticipated project of his, he’s scheduled to direct a movie with a star-studded cast.

seokjin nods. “yes, that’s me.”

“wait a minute, i know you,” says mr. ahn, an index finger pointed towards him. this man doesn’t look that much older than seokjin. give or take about only five years his senior. “i’ve seen you somewhere. where have i seen you?”

seokjin swallows hard. fuck, fuck, fuck. kill me now. bury me in the ground. shit. i hope he doesn’t realize that i'm—

“ah! i remember.” mr. ahn laughs, turning to mr. park. “isn’t he the guy who played corny collins three years ago or something?”

a huge breath of relief escapes seokjin.

mr. park nods unsurely. “yeah, I think so. did you play corny collins, son?” he asks.

“i did.”

their faces significantly brightened.

“well, i’m looking forward to your audition, seokjin,” mr. ahn says. “i watched the media preview of hairspray back then. i was a great friend of jiyong.”

jiyong was the director of the said show.

“you may begin,” mr. park adds, gesturing for him to go ahead before readjusting the glasses he’s wearing. “break a leg.”

seokjin flashes a dazzling smile and begins.

****

yikyung: how was it? yikyung: the audition should be over by now. yikyung: tell me how you did! yikyung: i’ll be like this for the whole day until you reply. yikyung:

seokjin: do you think sending gifs is cool? seokjin: bc it’s not

yikyung: you didn’t answer my question?

seokjin can’t stop grinning. he’s had this grin since he finished the audition and walked out to the lobby, his mind replaying the events that took place during his performance and the reactions of the director and producer after he was done.

even though the two didn’t make their verdict apparent, seokjin had a feeling that he was going to get cast in this show for the reason that as soon as he finished belting the last line of the song sandy, mr. park and mr. ahn shared a look with one another, their eyebrows raising in what comes across like understanding.

now, quick disclaimer, seokjin doesn’t read minds, but he’s pretty sure that that’s a good sign. he’s done his fair share of auditions and seeing an interaction like that from people who are in charge of casting always raises the chances that he’ll end up in the project. it’s a really big tell from what he thinks—and it’s what’s prompting him to almost skip like a little girl while walking to the café nearby where he’s planning to treat himself with the mouthwatering strawberry cream croissant he saw on their display earlier, nothing in his mind other than fantasies of receiving a call as soon as he gets home confirming he got the part.

maybe i should start incorporating black leather jackets into my wardrobe more… it is what danny zuko wears half of the time in the film and since i’ll be danny zuko, it can be some kind of way i’ll be able to internalize the character and be fucking amazing in this…

clearly, doing an inner monologue isn’t advisable when you’re walking along a busy street filled with people who are obviously in a rush to get to where they’re going.

because as he continues marching forward, taking a quick turn to the café he’s aiming to go to, his thoughts everywhere aside from the path he’s strolling on—his arm bumps against someone’s shoulder, ceasing his daydreaming and causing him to glance back, about to utter a quick apology if it wasn’t for the sight that greets him when he does.

he wrinkles his forehead, gazing at you.

there’s no doubt in his mind that it really is you who he’s looking at, but due to the fact that it’s been approximately 9 years since you last saw each other, seokjin asks himself whether this is legit or is his imagination taking a sinister route and letting him imagine how it would be like to meet the person he doesn’t want to see on a perfect day.

“well, shit,” you say, staring at him with the same surprised yet puzzled expression. your features look more mature, your hair is styled in a different way, your choice of clothes is more sophisticated—yet despite the subtle changes, you’re still as attractive as you were when he last got to see you. he might even dare to think that your attractiveness leveled up as well. “i’ll be damned. it’s you.”

seokjin feels his throat closing up, reality sinking in that you’re really here in front of him. “____?”

“i’m flattered that you remember.” you chuckle. “or that you’re not pretending to have amnesia to escape this conversation at least.”

to be fair, if it registered to him a few seconds earlier on who you are, he might have done exactly that.

but of course he doesn’t admit it. his ears just turn red while he utters a lie. “that’d be silly. it’s not like you’d believe me if i said that.”

“touché. but i still reckon you’d do it. you are an actor.” a smirk makes its way to your lips. “how’s that going, by the way? last time i heard, you’re being murdered on twitter and being called a world class asshole.”

he winces slightly. “that’s an exaggeration.”

“i don’t think so. you are on hiatus because of it, aren’t you?”

“not anymore.”

“oh?”

“you seem disappointed,” he retorts. “then again, i wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve been praying for my downfall ever since you-know-what happened.”

“you-know-what? do you mean when you dumped me?” you explicitly say, not even missing a beat after he was done speaking.

yes, you’re an ex-girlfriend. sadly, an ex-girlfriend he knows he didn’t treat well because of what you just reminded him of.

he presses his lips together, gathering all the confidence he has left. “yes. i do mean that. and i am sorry about it. truly.”

“you dumped me over the phone.”

“i’m aware of that too.”

“you didn’t explain why you wanted to break up.”

a pause. “yes, i didn’t.”

“and just because we coincidentally met again after so many years, you finally apologize?”

“that’s about right.”

“it doesn’t sound very sincere to me.”

he widens his eyes, surprised that you’re not letting this go as easily as he thought you would. from what he remembers, you’re the type of person who doesn’t hold grudges; you’re the type of person that everybody would say was genuinely good. in fact, it’s what he was mad about years back when you were still together—how you often let other people take advantage of your kindness, often putting you in a position of being a doormat or an emotional punching bag.

but that’s almost a decade ago. he feels bad that he’s not sure whether to be proud of you or to be a bit frustrated that he’s on the receiving end of this.

“anyways,” you add after the excruciating awkward silence, “as much as i want to give you a piece of my mind, i have to go. i’d say it was nice seeing you and that we should catch up sometime, jin, but that would be a lie.”

seokjin’s supposed to let you go despite his conscience eating him up. he’s not entirely stupid, it’s apparent that it’s better not to reopen healed wounds, and judging from the manner you spoke to him, you don’t want to give him an opening to enter your life again.

but then your phone rings, which you’re holding on one hand while the other holds a paper bag from the coffeeshop. And then, seokjin sees it—sees mr. park’s face on the screen with a caller ID named ‘dad’, that he can’t prevent himself from staying still and allowing you to leave without explaining what he’s witnessing right now.

“wait,” he holds your elbow as you’re trying to walk past him, “your dad isn’t mr. park, is he? i know your dad. He’s not hyunbin park.”

you blink at him, confused at the random question, however a wave of understanding swiftly washes over you. he watches you grin all of the sudden, eyes twinkling in amusement. he’s familiar with that expression, and it’s scaring him to death because he now has a pretty good idea on what your answer is going to be.

“you’re here in the city because of an audition,” you state, tone so sure that it makes him sweat. “don’t tell me… You’re auditioning for grease?”

he doesn’t tell you he’s auditioning for grease.

your grin widens even further, your next sentence inducing a sensation that might be a heart attack.

“then you’ve met dad. he is hyunbin park, the director.”

fuckity fuck fUCK FUCK!

note. AHHH first chapter is out! i hope y’all like this because i’m happy with how this turned out hehe. this drabble series will only have 10 episodes and i’m gonna pray that i get to finish this before the year 2024 ends 😭

gentle reminder: this author loves feedback! let her know your thoughts if you enjoyed reading this fic and you’ll add 100+ points in her writing motivation meter ♡

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