#and kim just straight up follows me nearly the whole time so | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wh6res · 4 years ago

Text

dreams come true | yuta

"soulmate or not. i don't shoot blanks." — ny

[ part of the my bloody valentine collection ]

tw. gore, blood, murder, death, killings, mentions of illegal organ trafficking, violence, mentions of stalking, minor character deaths, weapons (a knife and a gun), almost (??) suggestive content but nothing happened

disc. this is rlly fucked up and yuta is unredeemable. i dont condone such acts. this is all a work of fiction and meant to entertain.

wc. 5k

every time you sleep, the void is sickening. it was all you could see, lightyears and lightyears away of pitch black that made your head dizzy and your stomach dry heave. you've always wondered when you'll start dreaming about your soulmate's memories. they were like little secrets, another way for two people to be intimate without even being together. their days were flashing before their soulmate's eyes in the form of a dream. it's as if you spent the day with them!

you loved it, the whole concept of it. it sounded so wholesome and sweet and jesus fucking christ, you've always been such a hopeless romantic.

it was sweet until it turned sour. you loved it until you hated it. it was romantic until it turned downright terrifying.

you wake up covered in cold sweat, panting and gasping as if you've run a whole marathon.

moonlight seeps through your glass window, slightly left ajar for the midnight breeze to pass through – you walk up to it, pull it shut, and draw your thick curtains together. you exhaled, breath shaking as you tried to anchor yourself back to the ground.

with the only source of your light disappearing, darkness envelops you whole. for once, you craved the void. you want that void back if it meant never seeing something like that again – something straight out of your worst nightmare.

"119, what's your emergency?"

"uhm, i think… i think i just witnessed a massacre."

you reiterate everything you saw in the dream – the mahogany door, paint chipping off the drywalls. the doorknob was rusty, so were the hinges, and it made an ominous creak when pushed open. the light switches on, the first you see was a bunch of dirty ice coolers in what should've been the living room, it wasn't even the slightest bit organized. they were everywhere, and the floor looked grimy and disgusting, like there's a stain they can't seem to scrub off. only when your soulmate has stalked closer did you see the labels haphazardly taped on top of the ice coolers.

kidneys. livers. lungs. pancreas. intestines – you nearly vomited on the floor, trying to relay everything you saw to the operator on the other end of the call.

then came the gruesome parts.

their deaths.

they were five people in total. men clad in cheap t-shirts and pants, wearing all these similar leather jackets. some were well-built, ripped in the arms and thighs, but some were skinny, the jackets hanging on their small frames.

they never stood a chance against him.

your soulmate is agile, quick on his feet with outstanding eye-hand coordination. only equipped with a butcher's knife, but it was all he needed to take them down and send them knocking on inferno's gates. he was skilled, knowing when to pounce and where to slash his knife to maim but never to kill. by the time your soulmate was through with them, everything is bloody red. all the victims' eyes widened as they sputtered and choked on their blood – not dead, but dying...

because your soulmate wasn't done yet.

a killer should have a modus operandi, should they not? so he took out a desert eagle, stood before the bleeding bodies, and shot two bullets straight into their eyes. the finishing touch? carving a frown on their faces with his butcher's knife.

the operator only told you one thing after she's made you describe the place for them to track the crime scene down.

"double-check all your windows and doors."

because you couldn't be too sure, not when you have been granted a front seat to the sad face slayer's most recent endeavors.

the detective eyes you with a certain pity. maybe that's why you don't bother meeting his eyes. you sit still on a chair, camera blinking red behind him, the interrogation room is freezing even with the thick jacket you're wearing.

seven billion people in the world and you're soulmate's a ruthless serial killer who took it upon himself to purge the world of evildoers – he was playing god, no wonder the detective is looking at you like that.

"uhh…" he's awkward, fidgeting in his seat. "and you saw this all in a dream?"

"yes."

you've known him only minutes ago. mark lee was his name and he seems to be a subordinate of a higher, more experienced detective named kim doyoung. you don't know whether to feel offended or not for having a doe-eyed newbie taking care of the case, but you pushed it at the back of your mind, knowing his superior is watching on the other side of the two-way mirror.

"did you have, like, other past instances where you dreamt of him? of what he…" mark looked like he was going to throw up. "what he does to his other victims?"

you shook your head. no. "i've mostly just heard of him on the news. i don't think i have the stomach to find out in-depth what the killer does."

mark takes out a folder, features walking the fine white line between looking apologetic or wanting to say me too. "i'm, uhh, really sorry to hear that."

there's a sudden pregnant silence encapsulating the interrogation room. it felt like you were mourning for something, the chains of dread dragging your heart to the ground as it pounded against your ribcage. mark looked like he wanted to say something, but you swore his eyes darted towards the camera in the corner and decided otherwise.

"anyway…" he trails. flipping the folder open in one swift motion. "past sightings have given us the sad face slayer's name."

he slaps down a picture of a man, his hair raven and a permanent scowl etched on his face. the quality was shitty. it looked like it was a screenshot taken from zoomed-in cctv footage.

"nakamoto yuta, twenty-five, japanese, and has slipped one too many times past authorities that at this point, it's practically a talent."

and just like that, it made sense why you're here.

your lips pursed in contemplation, palms quaking as your fingers reach forward to inspect your soulmate's picture. "and… you want to use my soulmate connection –" you glowered. never had a sentence sounded so fucking cursed and utterly wrong. "– to catch him?"

mark can't look you in the eye. "yes. he's very elusive. his killings have been happening cross-country and, as you can see, have garnered national media attention. the police are hanging by a thread here. a month in his case and all we got is his MO, name, and that he has this weird god complex on him. if we can't catch him by the end of next month…" he shrugs. "the feds are going to interfere, sooner or later."

"so…" you trail, urging him to continue.

"so, we need as much information about him as we can get and your dreams about him will be able to provide that."

fucking great.

the much newer revelations of precisely who it was on the other end of the soulmate connection put a significant damper on your mood. you'd like to think your new little cop buddy who follows you around gives you the least bit sense of security, but alas, it doesn't. not when you've seen first hand how yuta took down five men all at once without breaking a fucking sweat – you absolutely refuse to call him your soulmate, you'd never accept a person with his nature as a soulmate.

you try to hide the bracelet mark handed you last two weeks ago, during your time spent in the precinct's interrogation room.

"please have this on you at all times until we catch him, okay? this is for extra measures, just in case something happens to the cop assigned to guard you. just press the little button here and we'll be there before you can even finish shouting 'help!' – hey, i was just kidding! what's with the face?"

considering you're now probably being hunted alive for snitching on a serial killer? mark lee, that was not funny at all.

"do you have to get inside the lecture with me?" you whine, shielding your face with your hair when you notice people shooting glances at the rather handsome cop they assigned to you. "it's not like he'll attack in broad daylight! and in a fucking classroom, for that matter."

jaehyun looks just about ready to hurl you out the window. "lower down your voice," he scolds. "serial killers don't pick a time and place, sweetheart. he kills when necessary and if it's fucking necessary to murder everyone in that classroom to get to you? he'll do it in a fucking heartbeat."

you sigh when the chair next to you screeches against the floor, the aforementioned male taking his seat right next to you. jaehyun felt more like a babysitter than a cop, who seems to have a habit of constantly inputting his not-even-needed opinions on the most superficial things.

are witness protection protocols like this?

it was a good thing that overgrown bat doesn't come hanging around in your apartment, but he does have the police car parked right across the building's entrance. judging by how meticulous and thorough he seems to be, he won't miss any face that comes in and out of the building.

you didn't forget exactly why you're under witness protection. for the cops to waste one good officer to follow you around, you needed to be valuable and being valuable meant sleeping through nightmare-induced dreams of what your soulmate does for a living. the scenes are so gruesome, so graphic and utterly gory, that you dart towards the bathroom first thing after waking up in cold sweat, draining all of dinner down the toilet bowl.

after dreaming of him in action a few times, you've now completely understood what detective lee had said regarding yuta's god complex. it was unsightly, yet there was a twisted sense of heroism to it. if there's one thing, he only gutted the bad guys – but that didn't make nakamoto yuta any less of a bad guy, himself.

i need to ask you a favor [sent 2:05am]

JJH: what? [received 2:10am]

often the nightmares were too much. too much that you thought of escaping its horrors by never getting a wink of sleep ever again – until you realized you're a witness and is probably the only chance for the seoul police department to catch that bastard.

buy me sleeping pills? [read 2:08am]

when you peep out of the window, you find an empty spot across the road where jaehyun usually parks the police car. twenty minutes later, you answer the knocking on your door. he used that little "code" he did for you to know it was him. jaehyun was glowering and muttering about how he wasn't some errand boy when he shoved the plastic bottle in your hand yet, you still thanked him nonetheless.

the pills worked like a charm. you managed to stay asleep throughout the whole night, ceasing those episodes of yours where you jolt awake in the middle of dreaming about the sad face slayer's memories.

life continued for you. it became a little bearable, but that didn't mean the horrific murders you see in your dreams are something you can get used to – you don't think you'll ever get used to the sight of him slashing his victims, the blood trickling like a goddamned waterfall.

today the dreams were different. anticlimactic, per se, if you compare it to the violence so utterly present in his memories.

the first you see were black gates, then it shifted to him ordering coffee in a café (amazing what a simple black mask can hide). it switched to him walking on a sidewalk, then he arrives at his destination, an apartment building – it wasn't too rundown, nor was it extravagant.

the serial killer takes the elevator and walks up to a mahogany door –

your room number is a blaring sight.

you couldn't be wrong, not when the 506 with the missing zero in the middle was a sight you saw every day, going and coming home from university.

that was your front door.

he was at your front door.

you jolt awake, ignoring the icky feel of sweat making your clothes cling onto your skin. ice creeps up your spine and freezes you over when you notice with a sinking realization.

those black gates are from the university you attended. that café is your favorite study nook. and that sidewalk is a route you take every day.

you clamp your hands on your mouth as tears roll down your cheeks in rivulets. you pull the comforters up above your head, fear gripping onto you with a vice-like grip as you sob.

it was in the dead of night, moonlight grazing the confines of your room and hours away from dusk. you finally utter those three words in a frightened whisper.

"he's stalking me."

as if having the overgrown bat jaehyun following and annoying you around wasn't enough, you now have another person keeping watch over you. mark lee, unlike jaehyun, may not be as ripped with muscle, but you heard from your cop buddy that the young detective has a few black belts under him. people at the precinct said that if they have to choose one person who can ever come close to the sad face slayer's agility, mark lee's your guy.

"you gotta be shitting me," you mutter, leaning close to jaehyun to whisper like high school girls talking about gossip. "he doesn't look the type!"

jaehyun, in turn, plays along and copies you. "yeah, true. he gets that a lot, i think,"

"guys, i'm literally in the back seat. i can hear everything."

the change hadn't been too drastic. at least mark was there when jaehyun proved to be difficult, pulling him towards the other way when the older male tried waltzing into your class again. "you don't need to sit next to her in her class! are you serious? there's one exit and entrance and we're on the fifth floor. breaking into that classroom will be the end of nakamoto's serial killer career!"

you shoot mark an appreciative smile, one he quickly returned before hauling jaehyun around the hallway. "we'll just be at the canteen, okay? press the 'lil button on your bracelet and we'll be right there!"

shaking your head with a slight smile on your face, you entered the classroom, sat in your usual spot, and did some of your readings from our other class to kill time. you hardly hear the screech of the chair next to you as it was pulled back. not like you cared much for whoever sat down next to you, but you can't deny there's that feeling of missing jaehyun when he used to force his way into the lecture.

"settle down! settle down, people!"

the professor enters and the class begins.

you were meticulous with your note-taking system. it's thorough, leaving no room for information to slip you. having already printed hard copies of the powerpoint presentation and simply jotting down some extra key points mentioned by your professor.

you were just about to raise your hand for a question when you feel something warm graze past your arm. you absentmindedly look down.

the breath is sucked right out of your lungs.

hi, soulmate

there, scribbled with an ominous red crayon on a small piece of paper. it was almost laughable how innocent it looked but when you follow the ring-clad hand, up the black hoodie he's wearing, and finally to his face—

"hi! i'm yuta."

his cheshire smile spikes up your heartbeat. it makes you want to throw up, makes you want to slam your head against the desk. the fight or flight hormone you have is making you restless, eyes pinned on the serial killer sitting next to you, scared that if you avert your gaze, he's going to take out that desert eagle and shoot you until your skull caves in and the bullets in his magazine empties.

"but judging by your reaction, i don't think introductions are needed, hm?" his tone is easy, conversational even and it shoots a freezing jolt of fear right up your spine. it makes you sweat profusely because you don't fucking know what to do, your thoughts in complete and utter disarray.

"just press the little button here and we'll be there before you can even finish shouting 'help!' – hey, i was just kidding! what's with the face?" you swallow, sneakily pressing the button without breaking eye contact with the serial killer sitting in front of you.

"look upfront. now." yuta orders and you nearly snap your neck as you turn your head with lightning speed.

"i thought i was above the soulmate rules, but here we are. my soul is either too tainted or too great to be tied to such trivial things, but oh well, we learn to work with what we have. surprisingly, i learned to like dreaming about how your day went."

you feel something sharp poking at your thigh and when you look down, he has a silver butterfly knife pointed against you. the precision of the angle he held it with doesn't slip your notice. one slice of that knife, no matter how small, and he'll be spilling your guts in this classroom.

a fat tear rolls down your face.

"can you imagine how much my heart broke when i learned you were spying on me? leaking information to that snobby detective? to those incompetent cops? bad baby, that was very bad of you."

"yuta—"

"you think the cops can save you from me?"

his other hand comes in contact with the nape of your neck, holding your head in place as he leaned down to invade your space. he scoffs, and you can picture that terrifying cheshire grin you've seen one too many times in your dreams.

the knife digs through your coat, the tip hardly poking your skin only because he doesn't want to drive it into you yet. how did he even manage to get inside the university? not to mention the weapons he possessed? shouldn't anyone be suspicious when they see a man dressed in all black, clad in jeans and a hoodie, into a university—

he even dressed the part. with that hood drawn up and carrying that one notebook, he looked fairly normal. someone who can easily blend in with the crowd.

you eye your professor, willing him to look at you but your soulmate is having none of that. you squirm when he drives the knife further, at the base of your stomach. with his other hand, he twirls a lock of hair around his finger. "now, now, soulmate. you don't want half the people here to get hurt, do you? unless... that can easily be arranged—"

"no!" you whisper, head jerking to the side to look at him humming in satisfaction. damn. out of all the faces he's seen contorted with fear, yours is his absolute favorite. with those pleading, glassy eyes and parted lips, yuta is tenting in his sweats.

"thought so," he chuckles. "let's get up. we're leaving. that old crook doesn't care if students just up and went in the middle of his lecture."

you don't want to think about how he even knew that because it implied attending the lectures a good amount of times. it's with sinking realization that jaehyun was right. if it weren't for him insisting to sit next to you, nakamoto yuta would've long gotten you in his claws.

you tried gathering your things until he purred into your ear.

"ah, ah, ah. you wouldn't be needing those with where we're going."

the hallways were empty, not that you had much time to scream for help when he had a knife pointed up your back, shoving you into the fire escape stairs. within the tranquil confines of the staircases, the sad face slayer couldn't fucking care less for your personal space.

he disgusts you greatly, he needn't do anything but stand there in front of you but you can already smell the long blood trail from his path. it reeks of rotting flesh and that infuriating god complex he had left a sour aftertaste.

"you know, i genuinely wanted to get to know you," yuta pouts, shaking the hoodie off his head. his hair raven, it's ends kissing the nape of his neck. he looked like he came right out of a shounen manga but the bloodlust in his eyes is something that can never be masked. "i detested the soulmate connection at first, i thought i should just kill you off because you could be my loose end."

his humorless smile is enough to give you nightmares.

"but seeing how sweetly normal and untainted you are made me hold back," the butterfly knife appears before your line of sight, yuta teasingly dragging the tip right down your cheek to trace your tears. "so, why did you snitch, baby?"

you shiver when he noses the side of your neck, inhaling your scent as his other hand hooks underneath your top, freezing fingers making you jolt. when you don't reply, his patience starts to dwindle. then again, he was never a patient man.

"answer me, you bitch. why did you rat me out?" gone is the playful lilt in his voice. the vibrations surge through you as his deep, demanding voice scares you shitless.

you feel, hear, and smell him everywhere. this wasn't like any nightmare. this is real, and you won't magically wake up on your bed, sighing in relief, knowing he isn't there, that it was all just in your head. no, this was very much real and there's absolutely no escape.

"i didn't," your voice cracks. "i didn't mean to—"

"bullshit!" he yells. you wail in pain when he slams you against the wall, head aching as it came in contact with concrete. "because of you betraying me, i nearly fucking got caught, and i never get caught!"

you were full out sobbing at this point, noisy and unsightly as the snot mixes with your tears. your only hope now is he gives you a quick, painless death and that he doesn't carve and mutilate your face like what he always does to his other poor victims. "i'm sorry! please... i'm so sorry. i was scared—"

he coos mockingly, tilting his head to the side as he inched his face closer. "aw, scared? my sweet little soulmate was scared?" he places the blade flat against your neck. as humiliating and degrading as it was, you almost peed on your clothes. "how about now? i'm sure as hell that you're fucking terrified for your useless life right now."

you cringe when his hand abandons the expanse of your stomach, no longer inching higher, finding its purchase on the hair sitting at the crown of your head. he holds you in place like that, forcing your head parallel against the wall, with his whole body pressing up to you that it's nearly suffocating.

"just one quick little slice," he taunts. you hiccuped when you feel the feathery light scrape of the blade moving against your skin. "you won't even have time to scream… but i'm sure we don't want that, do we?"

you forgot how to speak. forgot how to breathe. whenever your mind wanders, you've always thought about how you'll give this killer a piece of your mind, with the amount of fear and sorrow he inflicts upon other people. but you guess realities were a lot more different than expectations. the yuta you dreamed of meeting is in handcuffs, but fate is a fickle little thing.

"do we?" he repeats, slicing ever so slightly at your skin. enough to draw blood in droplets, never a waterfall.

"n – no."

he smiles. "you can make it up to me. do you want to make it up to me?"

the butterfly knife digs even further. a warning. and if you value your useless life, you should be smart enough to know what to answer. drawing a shaky breath, you tried forcing the ends of your lips up to a smile. "of course, yuta."

your voice breaks as your sobbing grips your body whole. the fear consuming your entire being like a parasite consuming the host. you would've shut down altogether if it weren't for the calloused hands gently gripping your face. "i know, i know. i see how regretful you are, baby. don't worry, i won't hurt you. you'll make it up to me."

anyone would be fucking stupid if you believe those words coming from a serial killer.

in your wrecked state, you barely register that he's pushing you down to your knees. skin coming in contact with the freezing linoleum floor as you refuse to look at what his hands are doing. yuta has pocketed his knife. the sound of a belt unbuckling in itself added insult to injury.

you stare blankly at his shoes as he shoves his bottoms down enough for his cock to show. if you squint hard enough, you'll see tiny splatters of blood in the shoelaces. whether or not he feels you're unresponsive, he doesn't show. maybe he doesn't care entirely. he takes one of your hands and used it to wrap around himself. he gasps, sharp, followed by a hiss.

you feel it throbbing and it strengthens the disgust you feel. no way you're going to give him the satisfaction of eye contact when you're already forced to blow this psycho.

"eyes up."

you sniffled, vulnerability present in the tone you speak. "i don't want to. please, don't make me."

if words alone aren't enough for you to follow orders, maybe you'll feel more motivated if held at gunpoint. it's unmistakable, the infamous desert eagle you've only seen in your nightmares. the last thing you ever expected is to be on the side where the bullet comes out.

the barrel is freezing as he digs it into the crown of your head. "soulmate or not. i don't shoot blanks."

your eyes looked up then. glaring as the tears rolled down your face. "you're a monster," you mutter under your breath. where you got the confidence to fight back is unknown.

"i've heard that before, be more creative next time," he holds your hair tight in one grip, shoving you forward, eye-level to his throbbing dick. "now… suck, baby."

"freeze!"

you knew that voice, you've been hearing it for the last two weeks. "jaehyun–!"

yuta cuts you off, shoving the gun into your mouth. the safety clicking off resonating in the tranquil room. it's deafening, and it makes you immobile.

"hands up. step away from the civilian." whether or not mark is nervous as he points the gun at the serial killer, he's doing a damn good job of hiding it.

yuta sighs, exasperated as he throws his head back. his raised arms came down to tuck himself back in his jeans, and the action made jaehyun's calm exterior crack. "i said, hands up, asshole!"

"chill out, motherfucker. i'm just trying to wear my pants." the serial killer hisses, glaring at jaehyun over his shoulder.

"mark, call back up already. what are you doing?" jaehyun mutters, side-eyeing the young detective whose gun shakes as he holds it up. the taller cop takes a step forward, eyes never leaving the notorious killer as he addresses you curtly. "(name), come here."

just as you plant your palms to the ground to push yourself up, one of yuta's hands shoves you down quick as lightning. "no. she stays here, with me."

jaehyun scowls, takes another step forward. "and what makes you think i'm going to let that happen?"

"i don't think. i know."

there's a constant ring in your ear as the gunshot temporarily renders you deaf. you've shut your eyes in utter fright, hands shooting up to cover your ears but it was too late. you refuse to open your eyes, you didn't want to see a dead body lying before you, even if it belonged to a heartless serial killer.

but when your eyes fluttered open, it's not yuta bleeding out on the ground.

"no, this can't be – jaehyun!"

it was a bullet straight to the head, no one could've survived a shot like that. his eyes are empty as he stares at you, unblinking, stoic. the color is yet to drown away from his milky complexion. but you can't even manipulate yourself into thinking that jaehyun's still alive. not when his eyes are empty, not when he just looks so lifeless.

it couldn't have been yuta who pulled the trigger.

his weapons were on the ground and the shot rang too fast. the sad face slayer couldn't have crouched down for his gun to shoot the cop, it would've taken too much time. and among the three men, there's only another person holding a weapon, and that was –

"great shot, mark."

the detective smiles, but with the blood splattered on his face, it looked cold. "told ya i've been practicing."

yuta hauls you up by the arms, addicted to how frail your body feels as it collapses against him. he's finally got his little soulmate in his arms. and he will never, ever let you go.

the cops lost – you've lost.

yuta, with a sense of victory coursing through his veins, took the liberty of trailing little pecks down your neck as he mutters, "mine, mine, mine!" but you couldn't care less about his display of mocked affection. not when the other person meant to protect you, turned out to be everything you think he wasn't.

mark must've felt the gravity of your stare as he crouches before jaehyun's bleeding body. grabbing the fallen cop's gun, he took it upon himself to empty the magazine. the lopsided grin he sends you broke your resolve more than yuta ever could.

"i'm sorry. it's nothing personal."

647 notes · View notes

floralseokjin · 4 years ago

Text

⤑ made-up love song iii.

Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher, never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago, and you’re unable to remember the last time you dated. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire.

Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…

pairing; kim seokjin x reader au/genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, eventual smut, eventual angst, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, lots of lasagne talk, flirting, kissing, fluff 🥰 words; 9,340

↪︎ chapter index

chapters; i • ii • iii • iv • v • vi • vii • viii • ix • x • epilogue (+ drabbles)

After you had time to calm down, of course you ended up telling Soojung about what happened on the date. You kept some things to yourself, mainly about how giddy you had felt throughout the whole thing, but you were sure she could see that for herself – she kept looking at you knowingly, and for once she kept the teasing down to a minimum. You ended up staying awake quite late, Soojung opening a bottle of wine. You were still excited from the date and the thought of what was to come next, but somewhere along the line, you and your best friend started getting into your feelings. (Was it really a Saturday night until you and Soojung ended it with slightly drunk sappy heart to hearts and hugs? Obviously not…)

For the first time in a while you felt comfortable enough to open up about your love life (or lack of one) and felt it easy to talk about the past and to even bring up Donghae. He was a forbidden topic for the most part, no matter how much you were over him, but tonight had changed something. You didn’t know how to explain it, and no, it wasn’t because Seokjin was somehow the man of your dreams who had magically made things better with just one date. That was dumb and only happened in cliché Hallmark movies.

No, it was because tonight had shown you that life goes on. No matter what rock bottom you hit, or how long it took you to get over it, no hurt was forever. You’d been single for a long time, and happy at that – after you’d gotten over the heartbreak of Donghae cheating on you – but tonight you’d had fun. You’d enjoyed yourself, enjoyed Seokjin’s company. You didn’t know what would come of your second date, or if there would be a third, but you were okay with that. You were just living in the moment, and right now you really liked that infuriating-not-so-infuriating bastard.

You were taking a chance, just like he was, and it was actually pretty exciting…

You woke up late the next morning, something you didn’t reprimand yourself for because it was summer break after all, but also, you had a raging wine headache that had needed all the shut eye it could get. Your head was still throbbing slightly as you reached for your phone on the bedside table but seeing a text from Seokjin waiting for you made it miraculously disappear.

Seokjin (10:28am) Hi Y/N, Thank you for such a great time last night. I can’t wait until Saturday. Would it be alright with you if I kept in touch throughout the week? Seokjin

You giggled to yourself at his insane formalities. Why was that so adorable? But most importantly how could he be both cute and sexy at the same time? He was hellbent on making you lose your mind. You thought about teasing him, asking him when he’d grown comfortable enough to drop the Regards from yesterday, but despite how well last night had gone, and despite how much you loved joking around with him in person, over the phone seemed different. You were still a little nervous – giddy nervous, but nervous, nevertheless. Your conversation from last night with Soojung came back to you, reminding you that this was all too real. You were potentially catching feelings for this man, and it was new, and exciting, but equal parts terrifying now that you’d woken up with a hangover.

Everything you typed out in reply seemed way too stiff, so growing frustrated, you settled on an emoji to cut through the formalities.

You (10:49am) I had such a lovely time too, Seokjin. Of course it’s fine to keep in touch. I’m looking forward to Saturday night! 😊

What did he mean exactly about keeping in touch?, you wondered as you got out of bed, padding your way down the stairs and into the kitchen for a much needed glass of ice cold water. A good morning text? A how are you? You knew he was busy with work all week, so you weren’t expecting too much, but just knowing he wanted to stay in contact until next Saturday made you smile to yourself as you waited for his response.

You didn’t have to wait long.

Seokjin (10:55am) Great! I’m so excited to try your World famous Italian lasagne 😁

Cute. He’d followed your lead, ditching the last of the formalities and even signing off with an emoji instead. You instantly felt more at ease, but –

Oh no.

Why did he have to bring that up and remind you of your humiliating blunder? You knew what would be taking up all of your time for the few days – you needed to perfect this goddamn dish.

Soojung on the other hand was unbothered by your predicament. Mind in the gutter as always. “Do you think that’s a euphemism for something else?” She asked straight away once you’d shown her your messages a few hours later.

“Soojung!” You exclaimed, feeling yourself get a little hot in the face. You wish she’d stop bringing up sex, it was stressing you out. You told her as much.

“You’re the one who’s invited him to your house for a second date.”

You stared at her, greatly unimpressed. “You know why I invited him here.”

You’d told her last night. You’d been hit with a surge of confidence when you’d suggested it was your turn to decide on something. In truth though, you didn’t know the first thing about restaurants, you hardly ever ate out, and when you did it was either fast food or at the food court in the department store Soojung worked at. You knew he wouldn’t have minded any choice you’d made, but that didn’t stop the slight apprehension you felt.

It was normal, given your difference in lifestyles, and whilst that seemed to be no issue thankfully, that difference was still there. However really, that’s why you’d chosen to cook for him. Seokjin had shown you something close to him last night – the restaurant he owned with his brother, and now you were to show him something close to your heart. Something that was you. You loved cooking and baking in your spare time and you wanted to share that with him however small. Granted it was things you were confident with, but lasagne couldn’t be that hard, right? A true perfectionist, you’d master it quickly enough…

Soojung rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you could suggest McDonald’s and Dilf would be insanely happy.” She nudged you, squealing like a kid. “He’s just so into you!”

You wouldn’t bite. She was making you nervous again. “Stop calling him Dilf, he has a name.”

“Geez, sorry.” She held up her hands in apology. “Didn’t mean to offend your man.”

You pushed her shoulder, silently telling her to quit it.

For the next few days it became your life’s goal to master the art of lasagne. Sunday night was spent googling recipes, trying to find the most authentic one. There seemed to be a lot of fuss on the right type of pasta. Flat edged would be fine, but the wavy edge was best. You made note of that. Next was the sauce. Two types. The tomato based one and then the white one – which you learned was called Bechamel. That seemed pretty easy to cook up, but the former seemed a little daunting. Every time you’d had pasta sauce in the past it had been premade, starting from scratch was giving you anxiety. Seokjin thought this was your expertise so you had to make it believable. What if you made it too salty? Too bland?

…Possibly you were thinking way too hard about this. Soojung thought the same.

“Just buy it in a jar, Y/N, for Christ’s sake. You’re taking this way too seriously. You don’t need to learn fluent Italian to make your little white lie believable. It’s a goddamn lasagne.”

She had a point.

“He’d be happy with a sandwich. He’s coming over for you, not the shitty lasagne.”

“Don’t call my non-existent lasagne shitty, you’re setting me up for failure.” You grumbled, looking at the ten tabs you had up on your laptop screen, all claiming to be the best most authentic recipe around.

On Monday you went shopping for ingredients. You knew a small world foods store that was just outside of town, you’d been there a couple of times when you’d been baking with the children for class. With help from signposted aisles, you found what you were looking for in no time at all, so that night, you and Soojung both tucked into your first (sort of) homemade lasagne. Only the Bechamel sauces was harder to master than you’d first thought.

“I think you added too much flour.” Soojung’s nose wrinkled as she spoke. “It’s nice, don’t get me wrong, but the white stuff… I don’t know, maybe it’s supposed to taste like that?”

Nope, she was definitely correct, too much flour, which was odd because you were pretty positive you’d followed the right measurements…

Tuesday you had a day off from the sight, and even the word lasagne. You met for coffee with your mom but kept the date with Seokjin a secret. Not that she pressed about your love life anymore, she’d long given up on that topic. It was nice to catch up and you made plans for a trip soon. It was hard to find time to visit her when you were in work so you were always thankful for the summer and Christmas breaks. You were her only child, so it made your time together even more precious. She’d only remarried ten years ago, and while Jonathon had kids from his first marriage, they lived abroad. They were older than you and had families of their own. You weren’t particularly close for no other reason than the distance. You’d only met them a few times but they were lovely people. Your father had remarried while you were still in high school, having two more children (a son and daughter) with his wife. You were very close to them despite the age gap and saw them as regularly as you could. Your extended family had long been the norm and you wouldn’t change it for the world.

Wednesday you were back on the lasagne. You purchased more pasta sauce and decided on the pre-made Bechamel sauce too, just to be safe. This time around everything went smoothly, Soojung had no complaints and neither did you, but you still invited Taehyung around on Thursday for a third go. He was way more enthusiastic than your best friend, singing your praises all night.

“Y/N, that was amazing!” He exclaimed, leaning back in his chair to pat his belly. “Dilf dick – Uh, I mean, Seokjin, is going to love it.”

“Guys, is that what you really call him when you’re alone together?” You whined.

“Blame Soo,” Taehyung shrugged. “She’s rubbed off on me. But, I’m right,” he smirked. “He’s going to want to give you his DD once he tastes this, if you know what I mean.”

Wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, you looked on unimpressed. Maybe if you gave them no reaction they’d stop?

“Oooo. I wonder what his dick even looks like. I bet it’s as handsome as his face.” Soojung squealed, sat beside her boyfriend.

“SOOJUNG!” He cried, mouth open in disbelief.

“Can we just stop talking about his… y’know…” You sighed, unable to say the word aloud. “Imagine if it was the other way around and he was wondering about what I looked like naked.” Soojung wouldn’t be impressed, that was for sure.

“Fine, you’re right,” your best friend sighed. “I’m just way too excited because you finally like someone!!” She was getting loud now, she always did when she was excited. “And I want it to work out because you deserve it!”

You chuckled. “Soo, calm down.” But you had to admit her words were sweet. You reached for her hand across the tiny table, giving it a gentle squeeze of thanks.

“What about Barman dick?” Taehyung asked randomly, totally oblivious that you and she were having a moment. “Huh? Soo? You want my Barman dick tonight?” He wiggled his eyebrows again, a playfulness to his voice as he nudged her.

She giggled but wasn’t having any of it. “It doesn’t really have the same ring to it, babe.”

Highly offended he pulled away, pursing his lips. “Whatever.”

“Okay guys, let’s not have a domestic at the dining table.” You laughed. Which was a mistake because now Taehyung’s attention was back on you.

“So, Y/N, when are you going to invite Mr. Dilf to my bar?”

You sniggered. “How about never?”

“Hey, you ladies are being very mean tonight. I complimented your lasagne.” Hm. That was true, you guessed. “What’s wrong with my bar? I think he’d love it. What does he drink? I see him as a dark rum type of guy.”

You shrugged. “He was drinking red wine on our date last week.” It still made you feel funny to say the word date. You’d gone on a date. You were dating. A flurry of excitement found its way to your stomach, your excitement for Saturday growing.

“Interesting,” Taehyung mused.

Soojung stood up, starting to collect your plates. “Okay, I’m washing, who’s drying?”

“Not me,” you sang. “I’ve cooked nearly every night this week.”

Soojung eyes were wide when you met them, as if she was silently begging you. For what? “Just please promise me there won’t be any lasagne waiting for me after work tomorrow night? I’m going to turn into one at this rate.”

Saturday arrived soon enough. You woke up the same time your phone went Bing and you knew exactly who it was. Seokjin had been texting you Good morning every day since Monday. He was no longer signing them off with his name, which was progress, and he was even adding more emojis, so you guessed you had rubbed off on him.

Sometimes he’d drop a meme with the greeting. They were mostly to do with early mornings and workloads to which you’d tease him about because it was your summer vacation after all, you didn’t need to worry about work. But you always sent a Hope today runs smoothly his way too. You didn’t want to rub it in too much.

Yesterday’s meme had been about dating, something about the guy trying to flirt but being garbage at it and asking if she liked cheese. You didn’t agree that was like Seokjin though – you were gradually learning that he was incredibly modest – but it had made you laugh. Only Seokjin could send you lame memes and you’d find it adorable… You were possibly whipped.

Seokjin (8:01am) Good morning. [Image sent]

Today the meme was about lasagne, which made you question whether he was googling these every morning because no way had a lasagne meme popped up on his social media – if he used any at all. The realisation that he was searching for memes every day was even more endearing and your heart got a little gooey. You read the text on top of the image of lasagne. Dude, is that your new white shirt? Lemme just hop off this fork for a closer look. You genuinely laughed at that one, still wrapped up in your bed sheets. So incredibly lame, but equal levels funny.

Seokjin (8:01am) I will not be wearing white… I can’t wait to see you later. Just a reminder that I hope you omitted the garlic for tonight’s meal. I don’t want to embarrass myself by itching all night 😅😂

Immediately the smile dropped from your face and you shot forward, horror washing over you. Oh no. He was allergic to garlic. With the stress of perfecting the world’s best lasagne you’d totally forgotten. What were you going to do? Find a plain tomato sauce? Where the hell were you going to find one? Was that even a thing? You needed to leave now. Jumping out of bed you almost forgot to message Seokjin back. Looking at your phone again the image of the lasagne mocked you…

Two hours later you were back at home, in need of a sit down after you’d rushed around town looking for a pasta sauce that didn’t contain garlic (very hard, by the way.) The stress had aged you about ten years. Soojung of course found it highly hilarious.

“You’d have been in ER before 9pm,” she chortled, still in her pyjamas on the couch. She’d been still asleep when you’d dashed off, a woman on a lasagne mission.

You ignored her. It wouldn’t have been that bad, right? He said himself he’d only be itching… Clawing off his own skin was probably better than his throat closing up… maybe…

“How did you manage to forget?” She was still laughing. “AND you said you’d make a lasagne. Italian food always uses garlic. He must think you’re trying to kill him.” At this point you could hardly understand her, words blurring into one as she lost her shit.

“We went over this. I wasn’t in my right mind when I said I’d cook lasagne.”

She stopped her laugher immediately. “No way, you’re not blaming me again.”

“Ugh.” You sighed, suddenly remembering something. “I was going to make my homemade garlic bread.” Now that was a speciality of yours. This night was going to be a disaster.

“Skip the garlic,” Soojung suggested.

“So, just bread then.”

She tried her best not to laugh again, not wanting to make it worse. “Yum.”

It didn’t help.

What did help though, was making her clean the entirety of the downstairs of the house. As the day went on you started to get more and more nervous, which was silly, but you couldn’t help it. You realised that your place was a shoe box in comparison to his, what the hell were you thinking when you’d invited him here?! It needed to be spotless, to distract him from the fact you would be eating dinner in the same place you would be cooking it…

You knew there was no need to worry, it was just like last week when you’d grown self-conscious only to be fine once you’d set eyes on Seokjin. No doubt tonight would be just the same, he didn’t give a crap about stuff like that, so why would you even think he would? He’d probably be hurt if he knew… You just couldn’t help those little bubbles of insecurities from floating around inside your brain. You were a law unto yourself, and the garlic-less lasagne wasn’t helping. You’d had no time to prep for it. What if it tasted like cardboard?

“Lasagne is lasagne,” Soojung reassured you, in the kitchen as you got all the ingredients together. “It’s not going to taste gross just because there’s no garlic in it. Put it this way, at least you can kiss without needing to pop a mint.”

You whined, shaking your head, you couldn’t even dare thinking about kissing him right now. You’d spontaneously combust from anxiety.

“Should we clean your room too?” She asked, picking up the jar of pasta sauce absentmindedly. You’d already read the label approximately fifteen times, double checking it was indeed garlic-less.

“What? No,” you told her, voice all high-pitched. There would be no going upstairs besides from bathroom usage. “But hey,” you exclaimed, rounding on her with the spoon you were holding in your hand. “My room is always clean, bitch.”

She was the messy one.

Soojung left for Taehyung’s place at half 6, ready for Seokjin’s arrival at 7pm, a hug for good luck before you waved her off. You’d calmed greatly now, nothing like some table laying to ease some nerves. The lasagne was prepped and ready to oven cook, you had a fresh key lime pie in the fridge and you were dressed and presentable with ten minutes to spare. Wonderful.

The doorbell rung not long after you’d made your way downstairs and you were quickly finding out that Seokjin was a very punctual man. Opening the door to reveal him stood at the porch your heart instantly warmed, skipping a beat when he gave you a dazzling smile and a soft Hey. You felt a little weak at the knees. Nope, you were not ready for tonight.

In your tiny entryway he offered you a silver gift bag. “I didn’t know what to bring, so.” He said with a shrug as you pulled out a bottle of red wine.

“Oh, thank you, Seokjin.” You hadn’t been expecting him to bring anything at all. It was a lovely surprise.

“You probably have some waiting already. I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” you reassured him. “We’ll use this one.” You were going to use a bottle of white wine you had laying around, nothing special at all. Red wine seemed better, fancier, maybe it would go better with the lasagne?

“Are you sure?” He asked. “I was gonna get you flowers but I didn’t want to freak you out or anything.”

You laughed. What was he going on about? “Why would that freak me out?”

His smile was crooked as he chuckled quietly. “I don’t know. I’m new to this, I thought they would’ve been too forward.”

You gave a small shrug, voice barely there when you replied. “I like flowers.”

He gazed at you, warm eyes softening as he stepped forward. “Next time.” He smiled. “Next time I’ll get you flowers.”

You swallowed fairly loudly, averting your gaze as you outstretched your arms. “Let me take you coat.” Was it hot in here? You felt a little stuffy.

He shrugged off the beige wool blend, revealing the tight fitting black shirt he had on underneath. It stretched over his shoulders, accentuating how broad they were, how hard his chest was and how much his waist curved inwards. The pants he was wearing didn’t help matters too. He looked effortlessly gorgeous, hair parted to the side, a piece curled above his left eye, softening the blow of his exposed forehead. You moved to hook his coat on the rack, realising you could’ve been gawping. Not that you could help it, the man was trying to kill you.

As you turned to face him again, he smiled. “You look really nice.” His voice was soft which just made it even more dangerous. “I think this may be the first time I’ve seen you in pants.”

“Really?” You wondered. You were partial to a dress in the summer, so he was probably right. You’d chosen a pair of black skinny jeans and a patterned chiffon blouse. Nothing too fancy, but he looked at you with awe-filled eyes. Unless you were imagining it. You cleared your throat. “You look good too.”

He stepped back, arms outstretched as he looked down at himself. “Thanks. No white.” He chuckled.

You forced yourself to laugh too, nerves creeping back just because of your stupid damn lasagne. “No white.”

Moving forward again he took your hand. It was warm and soft, just as you remembered from last week. Who cared about the lasagne when you were this close to him? When he was looking down at you with those brown, twinkly eyes? Not you anymore.

“I’ve been looking forward to this all week, Y/N.”

Oh.

You invited him inside the living room first, pouring him a small (and his only because he the car) glass of wine as you chit chatted for a few minutes. Sat next to him was RJ, who you’d taken from your bedroom to join you both for the night. He wanted to say Hi, had been your opening line and Seokjin had found it hilarious, cracking up instantly. Although his “I missed you buddy, how have you been?” went rudely ignored. Maybe the alpaca was nervous…

Ever the gentleman, he complimented you on the house, noting the décor with a fond eye. That surprised you, maybe he had played a part with the interior of his home. Well, you’d only seen the cosy family room – but it suited him very well. You knew there had been no need to be nervous when it came to inviting him into your home. There wasn’t a judging bone in Seokjin’s body.

You talked about your weeks, yours had been fine, but of course you left out all the stress over the lasagne. Seokjin’s week on the other hand had been quite demanding, but that was nothing new he told you with an accepting shake of his hand. He was used to it by now, but he had to admit tonight’s date had made it easier this time around. He was full of the charm, not that you were complaining…

Misook was babysitting Arin tonight, he told you when you asked how she was. It was his weekend this week, he and Nana took it in turns – when she didn’t cancel, he added as an afterthought – but he seemed a lot more relaxed talking about his ex-wife this time around seeing as last weekend she hadn’t broken any promises. He was happy if his daughter was happy, and that made you smile. You remembered Arin’s sorrowful face that day her mom had cancelled on her, so you were glad they’d found time to spend time together. You also remembered how irritated Seokjin had sounded when he was opening up to you on the bench at the school fate… You wondered just how often Nana cancelled plans, and couldn’t imagine how frustrating that was for both Arin and Seokjin… You hoped this marked the start of things being easier for them now.

Soon after that, you served him your starter (“garlic – wait, no I mean, no-garlic bread.”), and you chatted some more over that and while the lasagne baked. It was surprising how little you’d touched the sides on your first date, so tonight you covered even more bases. Family mainly. You told him about your half and step siblings, your parents’ remarriages of course coming up too. He seemed interested in that, wondering about your views on it and if it had affected you as you grew up. As a divorcee you understood the relevance to him and because he was so easy to talk to you found yourself opening up freely.

His parents were still married and Seokjin was the youngest out of their two sons, so it was quite unheard of for the second born to take over a family company. In fact, it was the first of its kind for his, which made it even harder for him. His older brother had been the rightful heir to LG Electronics but his passion had always been in culinary arts. His parents had been kind enough to let him follow his dreams, and thankfully, for Seokjin, that meant he could follow in his father’s footsteps. He’d been eager to prove himself but it had been hard in the beginning. His status as the youngest son meant that a lot of people set him up for failure, but with his family’s love and belief he’d managed to succeed and confirm himself as the rightful CEO. You didn’t doubt it. It seemed he’d worked hard to get where he was now. That was admirable.

The influx of information was so interesting to you and it didn’t feel real. While you could imagine Seokjin taking charge, visualising him in that tailored houndstooth suit he’d worn when you’d first met him, it was strange to think the smiley and soft-spoken man sat in front of you was from a long line of power and wealth. He should be untouchable, yet here you were able to reach for his hand across the table. Able to feel his forefinger stroking delicate patterns into your palm as you opened up and got to know one another more and more…

“So, if your family’s a big deal, what about things like arranged marriages? Are they still a thing?” You asked, maybe confusing fiction for fact.

Seokjin laughed at your wording. “They used to be, not so much anymore. I met my ex-wife through a friend. They concentrate less on things like that these days.” He shrugged, adding as an afterthought, “As a divorced CEO I think I’m a great example of that.”

That was true, you thought to yourself, wondering how the breakdown of his marriage had also played a part in the stress of his early years as CEO.

“I know it all sounds pretty crazy, but I like to think my family is just like anyone else’s.” He continued, smiling bashfully when you met his gaze. “That I’m just like anyone else.”

You wondered how many people had immediately judged him because of his status… You’d been one of them, right? Even if you hadn’t known any of the details, you’d written him off as some obnoxious, rich guy who flaunted his wealth… You felt guilty thinking back. He was the complete opposite.

You nodded in agreement before grinning. “I’d have liked to see what college Seokjin was like.”

“A complete nerd, to tell you the truth.”

He answered so seriously, you didn’t know how to react, and then he was laughing loudly, cracking up at himself. You couldn’t help but join in. That’s when your stove alarm went off, shrill and incessant, signalling the arrival of the dreaded lasagne…

It turned out he loved it though.

“This is amazing,” Seokjin praised, mouth still half full as he chewed. You did have to admit it was good. It tasted just like the original, despite the lack of garlic. Seokjin quirked an eyebrow, smirking your way. “So, how lucky am I to be able to try this World famous Italian lasagne?”

“Very lucky.” You kept your answer short. Hoping he’d just drop it.

He didn’t.

“How lucky?” He tried to pry from you. “How many people have tried it?”

You gave him a small smile, hovering your fork over the plate. Technically he was the third, but you couldn’t tell him that, could you? “I can’t disclose that.”

He emitted a short laugh. “What about the recipe? Care to share?”

You brushed him off with a soft chuckle. “A chef never tells her secrets.”

“Not even me?” His bottom lip jutted out as he looked across at you.

Your heart did a little dance. He was being unfair. “Don’t pout like that, it’s making me feel guilty.”

Thankfully the lasagne topic fizzled out after a couple more minutes, your cold sweat having time to dissipate while you chatted and ate together comfortably. However a few minutes later you noticed Seokjin fidgeting slightly in his seat. You politely ignored it to begin with, unsure if you were just imagining it, but then he started itching the back of his neck. You put your fork down, a sick feeling washing over you. ��Is anything wrong?” You asked, now watching him itch up his forearm. “Seokjin?”

He looked at you in mild confusion, eyebrows creasing together as he opened his mouth. “Are you sure there wasn’t any garlic in this?”

You swallowed away the panic racing up your throat. “I’m sure.” You’d read the back of that jar and then read it some more. “I’m positive.”

… Weren’t you? You watched him scoot his chair back, leaning down to start scratching the back of his calves. He made noises of discomfort as he did so.

“Oh, no…” You were up before you could stop yourself, racing around him to start hunting in the recycling for the glass jar.

“Wait, where are you going?”

You could hear Seokjin’s voice behind you, sounding alarmed, but you were too panicked to really take it in. You needed to be sure. This was just your second date, you couldn’t ruin things already. Turning him into one giant itchy red blob had not been your intention.

“I was only teasing you.” Still, his words didn’t sink in. That was until you felt a hand on your elbow, tugging gently for your attention.

You spun around, worried eyes wide – even wider when you found him so close. He was on his feet too, bent a little to level with you, pretty much within kissing distance. His voice was soft when he spoke, you found yourself distracted by his mouth. “Y/N, I was just messing around.”

You blinked, not truly understanding with all those annoying distractions zooming around your mind, but slowly you pieced his words together. Oh. Despite the relief you felt, now you just felt silly. Plus, he was still so close to you…

You took a step back, the small of your back pressing up against the counter. You needed a clear head. “Don’t freak me out like that.” You told him, but you still sighed in relief, hand against your chest. “I thought I’d poisoned you.”

He looked a little concerned, but you could tell by his eyes he found your reaction amusing. “I’m sorry,” he apologised. “I just wanted to make you laugh.”

“Make me laugh? You nearly gave me heart failure.” However, you gave him what he wanted, a laugh that sounded weak and shaky, but it was something – you did see the funny side.

He joined you, shoulders relaxing now that he knew you were okay. He looked behind you, eyes on the trashcan, a bemused smile on his face. “What were you looking for anyway?”

“The jar.” You answered, as if it wasn’t obvious. You turned, deciding to fish it out anyway. Holding it up to him, you were adamant. “See, no garlic. Check.”

He chuckled. “I already said I was joking.” He took one look at your desperate expression and gave in, taking the jar from your hand. “But if it makes you feel better…” You watched him as he read the label, silently soaking in his handsome features. He looked softer tonight, the curve of his jaw rounding as he smiled. It took you a moment to realise he was done. He handed the jar back to you, and you prayed to God he hadn’t caught you staring at him all gooey-eyed. “It’s fine.” He confirmed. “I’ll be itch free tonight.”

You smiled and plopped the glass back inside the can. “I looked around town for hour trying to find lasagne sauce sans garlic.”

He looked guilty. “I’m sorry for being awkward.” Then he paused, eyes narrowing, the hint of a smirk itching at the corners of his mouth. “But… Y/N, are you a fraud?” Huh? What did he mean? You didn’t need to wait long for an explanation. “I thought a certified chef would cook up a batch of her own tomato sauce.”

Oh. You’d gone and put your foot in it, hadn’t you? It was probably time to explain yourself… “I have a confession,” you began, sounding wary. Seokjin looked interested albeit it mildly confused. “I… may have told a little white lie.”

He shook his head, a puff of laughter leaving him. “You’ve lost me.”

You took a deep breath, knowing you were going to have to spell it out for him. “I’ve never made lasagne before. Ever. In my entire life.”

He looked confused as silence spread out between you. He sounded it too when he spoke again. “Then why did you say it was your speciality?”

You groaned, dropping your face into your hands for one dramatic moment. “I panicked.” Peeking at him, you babbled on. “I know it sounds stupid but Soojung was curtain twitching and it was stressing me out and then you were asking me what I cooked and lasagne just popped into my head!”

Seokjin blinked, his mouth twitched and then he was laughing – loudly.

“You find it funny?” You asked, relaxing a tad.

“Very.” He laughed harder but seeing the look of bafflement on your face he tried is best to still it.

“I’ve been practicing it like crazy,” you whined, happy you could finally tell him all about your lasagne struggles. “This is my fourth time eating it this week. Soojung nearly killed me.” You snorted at the memory. This started up Seokjin again. “And then I forgot you were allergic to garlic. Your text reminded me this morning and I had to rush out to the grocery store.”

He was weak at the knees at that, and you were laughing just because he was. It was contagious. “Stop,” you wailed, attempting to get a hold of yourself. This week had actually been quite traumatic. “I’m glad you find it funny, I’ve been in constant stress ever since you drove off last week.”

“I can’t help it.” He chuckled, although he did sound apologetic. “You’re just so adorable.” The air that settled around his effortless admission made your skin prickle. When he carried on, his tone was gentle. “You know I wouldn’t have minded if you changed the menu to something else, right?”

You pouted ever so slightly. “But you were looking forward to it.”

He gave a small shrug. “True, but… that was more so code for ‘I’m looking forward to seeing you again.’ The food was just a bonus. I’d be happy with a Big Mac.”

You felt your cheeks burn and you tried to shake yourself out of it. “So embarrassing,” you murmured. You didn’t know what for… The lasagne mess or the fact he could have this much of an effect of you? You were inclined to go with the latter.

“What about the no-garlic bread?” Seokjin asked, changing the subject a little. Maybe he’d sensed your embarrassment and didn’t want to make it worse. He was sweet. “Did you make that?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Well, I didn’t bake the bread. I just toasted it.” It was still a speciality of yours though. “It would’ve been much tastier with the garlic.”

He gave you an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that. This body wants to turn me into a miserable old man.”

Pfft. Old? Miserable? He was anything but.

“Sit,” he prompted you, smiling as he motioned with his head to the table. “Finish your World famous Italian lasagne before it grows cold.”

As you moved he delicately cupped his hand around the curve your waist, giving it a soft squeeze before he got to his chair first. Your stomach flipped, head dizzy as you sat and tucked your chair in. Last Saturday popped into your head, the way you’d loosely held hands outside and how you were sure he’d been leaning in to kiss you – properly.

You knew one thing. You really wanted to kiss him tonight.

Trying to get a hold of yourself, you glanced at him, catching his eyes. He was already tucking in again, and he grinned bashfully, as if embarrassed. “This really is great. All that practice paid off.” A pause. “You should show me how you cooked it sometime.”

Your face lit up in surprise. “You cook?” In the back of your mind you were aware that he’d probably been hinting for a third date, but you were so shocked by the possibly of Seokjin cooking you couldn’t stop yourself from asking.

He chuckled quietly. “I mean, when I have time and can be bothered. I like cooking but it’s just easier to go to a restaurant or get it delivered.” He looked sheepish before adding, “Or Misook does it for me.”

There was no shame when it came to that. Seokjin probably worked all hours of the day, no one could expect him to tie on an apron when he got home and start pulling out pots and pans.

“Do you cook a lot?” He asked.

You nodded. “Soojung and I take it in turns.”

“So what is your speciality?” He smiled.

This time around you were in your right mind and able to answer properly. “Veggie tacos.”

He raised his eyebrows, impressed. Then he tried again. “Can you make them for me sometime?”

He was persistent, you’d give him that. You shrugged, trying your best to sound impassive but the little smirk gave it away. “Maybe if you say please…”

He laughed, leaning forward, a hand clasping yours as he tilted his head. The piece of curled hair falling into his left eye. “Please?”

Your heart did another little dance inside your chest.

After dessert you both made your way back to the living room, settling on your couch with two pomegranate mocktails Taehyung had prepared for you yesterday. All you had to do was add the pomegranate juice and lemonade to the ice cubes and crushed lime segments and mint before serving, easy-peasy. Seokjin was highly impressed, but of course you couldn’t take the credit. It was all down to your best friend’s very helpful barman boyfriend.

You were glad Seokjin wanted to stay as you didn’t want the night to be over yet. It had flown by so fast and you’d had so much fun. You already felt like you knew him better, even after only two dates. It was strange to you, how you could feel so relaxed in a stranger’s company, but then again, you guessed he wasn’t a stranger anymore… Plus, he was so easy to talk to, so interesting to get to know…. Everything between you two came easy.

Like opening up to him, being a bit more vulnerable…

“I’ve been slightly nervous all week,” you admitted, clutching your drink to you before chuckling softly. “– and not just about the lasagne faux pas…”

“There was no need to be nervous. I thought we left all that behind on the first date,” Seokjin reassured, smiling warmly your way.

You were sat together, turned to face one another. It was intimate and cosy. He had one leg lifted, the ankle resting on the knee of the other leg, and where his pants had ridden up, you could see an inch or so of his calf before it met the black cotton of his sock. For some reason, you found that very, very sexy. Maybe you had been single for far too long.

“We did,” you agreed, hesitating slightly. “It’s just… I haven’t done anything like this in so long.”

You didn’t even think you’d ever invited someone around for dinner before. You were still quite young when you found yourself in a relationship with Donghae so your dates before him had been very basic. Your dates with him hadn’t really classed as such just because you became official fairly quickly, and your dates after him, well, it was already known that they had been few and far between.

“You already know we’re in the same boat,” he smiled before chuckling bashfully. “No, but really, when I asked you for dinner that day at the fate I was expecting you to turn me down.”

“How come?”

He looked down at his drink, lifting a shoulder. “I thought you’d think that I was crossing a line… or maybe the spark I was feeling was all in my head and in reality you just found me really annoying.”

That was cute. He’d been doubting himself. Human after all. Not that you’d ever thought he wasn’t. You still didn’t miss the opportunity to joke around though. “I mean, both can exist simultaneously.” He taking a sip of his mocktail when you replied so he ended up snorting into his glass, amused by your wit.

A moment or so passed and Seokjin gazed at you, smiling softly. If he kept this up, you’d be a puddle on your parquet flooring. “So, tell me,” he hummed. “How did I luck out so good?” You raised an eyebrow, wondering what he meant. “How come an amazing person like you isn’t married or in a relationship?”

He must’ve seen the slight shock on your face and panicked instantly. “Is that a weird thing to ask? I feel like it is. I apologise.”

“No,” you insisted, sitting up a little straighter. He followed. “No, it’s not.” You wanted to open up to him. You really did. You just didn’t know where to start. Although, it was pretty simple. “I’ve been single for a while.”

“How long?” Seokjin was instantly focused, attentive, noticing the change in your body language.

“Three years. My last relationship didn’t end very well.” You paused, wondering if you should continue. But then… It had been a massive part of your life. No matter how much time had passed and no matter how okay you were now, it had still happened. And Seokjin, he had trusted you enough to open up about his divorce – even before you’d gone on your first date. You wanted to talk about it. You really did.

“I found out my fiancé was cheating on me.”

Seokjin’s eyes widened, unable to cloak his surprise. He hadn’t been expecting that. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said sincerely.

“It’s fine,” you smiled. “It was rough getting over it. Took me a while, but it is what it is. It’s in the past now.”

“Did it put you off dating?”

You were pleasantly surprised to find it was actually easy to talk to Seokjin about this. Your mouth was opening before you had to think about it. “I mean, at first. I was still very much in love with him, even after he broke my heart. But I got over him and I started dating again – briefly – It just didn’t feel right.” You stopped to smile. “It’s been over a year and I can’t say I missed it… but you…” Nerves growing, you pushed them away. “You’ve changed that. I’m having fun.”

Seokjin’s face lit up and he chuckled. “I did hit second date status after all.”

“You did…”

“So,” he leaned closer, a small smirk on his face. “You could say, hitting your car that day wasn’t actually my fault because it was supposed to happen.”

You snorted as you laughed, head falling against the back of the couch. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

He made a sound. “But we wouldn’t have met otherwise.”

“We would!” You exclaimed. “The parent-teacher meeting.”

He blinked, feeling dumb. “Oh, yeah.”

It wouldn’t have had the same effect, granted, but you would have become acquainted with one another regardless. “Would you have still liked me?” You asked without thinking, surprising yourself.

“Yes,” he replied immediately. “I was instantly attracted to you after all, it’s just…” Instantly attracted? Definitely a charmer... “There would’ve been no way for me to get to know you like I did.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re really adamant that you had to reverse into my car to make this work, huh.”

He shrugged casually. “It was the only way.”

You laughed quietly, finishing the last of your drink. Time was getting on, it was pretty late, Seokjin had already finished his, you watched him sit up to lean forward and place the glass on your coffee table. His shirt tightened across his shoulder blades and you could see his back muscles as he stretched. Oh.

Settling back into the same position, he looked over at you and grinned. His teeth were perfect. Did this man have zero flaws? Why were you so whipped? It was embarrassing.

“I had fun tonight,” you told him, trying to keep a lid on whatever was going on with you right now.

He seemed pleased with that, nodding his head. “I’m happy to hear that you think I’m a fun person.”

You scoffed, body falling closer to his. Your shoulders brushed together. Seokjin didn’t take his eyes off you. “Hm. I don’t think I said that.”

“Hey, don’t be so mean.” He murmured, one side of his mouth quirking up.

Like you couldn’t stop yourself, your hand reached for the collar of shirt. He had the top two buttons loose and your pinkie finger brushed against his collarbone. Sparks flew, but you tried to ignore them. “I thought you liked it when I was mean.” You teased, voice low.

Seokjin hummed, his eyes still twinkled like they always did but there was something else to them, a depth that made you feel funny. He sunk closer to you. So close you could study the thick curve of his eyelashes, notice that both his eyelids were different. He really did have beautiful eyes. You could stare at them forever.

Preoccupied, you slowly realised that he was watching you too, studying your features in the golden glow of the floor lamp that hovered over the couch. His lips parted, you heard them rather than saw it, but then your attention was on them again. Just like it had been earlier on in the night. He was staring at yours too as he spoke. “I wanted to kiss you last week.”

You heartbeat quickened but you tried to keep cool. “You did kiss me.” You laughed.

He sighed. “On the cheek.”

You lightly tugged his collar, fingertips now brushing the skin of his chest. “Isn’t that what you said you wanted to do?”

You could feel his own heartbeat against your forearm that was pressed into him. It was definitely running a little faster than it was supposed to – stronger. “Yes, but…” He glanced up to your eyes. “I was just being polite. I wanted to kiss your lips.”

It felt like you were holding your breath. Maybe you were, you just couldn’t think straight. Time seemed to stretch out, but you knew what you wanted. So you went after it. Giving him a small smile, you replied. “Maybe I wanted that too.”

He swallowed, voice so low now it was barely a murmur. “Is that an invitation?” His eyes bounced to your lips again, then back to your eyes as he asked permission. “Can I kiss you?”

You ever so slightly dragged your bottom lip beneath your teeth as you nodded, breath catching in your throat as Seokjin leaned forward and closed the distance between you. The hand in between your bodies moved to delicately hold the wrist of your arm against his chest, holding you there as his other hand reached for your jaw, angling your face to press a kiss to your mouth. His eyes were already closed so you followed.

He hummed at the contact, his lips soft and warm and you let yourself sink. His actions were light at first, faint as he kept constant pressure, as if he was familiarising himself with the sensation. You couldn’t even let yourself think about how this was the first kiss you’d shared with someone for a very long time. All that was going through your mind was how good it felt to be touched like this by him.

He readjusted the hand on your face, tucking some hair behind your ear to cup your cheek. You liked that. You liked it when he touched you, and he eased from your mouth completely before coming back with a firmer pressure. It was your turn to make a sound; a tiny gasp as your lips began to move together ever so slowly. He liked that, a hum of satisfaction vibrating against the soft skin of your lips. You clutched at his shirt, gathering the crisp cotton in your fist, that would surely turn it creased, but he didn’t seem to mind. He was too preoccupied with reaching for the glass you’d forgotten was hugged to your body by your free hand.

He unclasped it from your fingers and had no choice but to break away from your mouth to put it next to his on the coffee table. You whined, attempting to tug him back to you, and he chuckled, taking a hold of one of your hands. “I’ll be back,” he whispered, leaning forward to place the cocktail glass down.

And he was.

This time he used both of his hands to grasp your face and dive back in. He was more confident this time, moving in such a way his lips pried yours open. You reached for his shoulders, grasping them to hold him closer and this time you both made noises – sweet, quiet ones that worked beautiful together as your lips moulded with gradual urgency.

When your hands found the nape of his neck, fingers through his hair, he had to drag the tip of his tongue across your bottom lip, seeking entry. You met it with yours, tasting hints of pomegranate and lime with each wash of tongue. A hand of his slipped down to your side, stroking up and down the curve as if he couldn’t help but to touch you. He settled at your hip after a moment, the other splayed against the side of your neck, his thumb rolling small circles under your cheekbone.

This was getting addictive. You could tell by the way you moaned softly against each warm, wet curl of his tongue. This was everything you’d imagined and more – because you had imagined it. Late and secretly at night when you were trying to drift off to sleep and thoughts of lasagne were banished… You were glad your first kiss was here, inside, on your couch, because this wasn’t something for the open, your knees wouldn’t have been able to hold you up.

You could have kissed him forever, you mean, you definitely didn’t want it to stop but you pretty much had to. Breathing was a necessity, right? If you couldn’t breathe you wouldn’t be able to ever kiss Seokjin again and that would be absolutely awful…

You did it the right way though – gradually. Seokjin slowed it right down, only hints of his tongue left as he hummed indulgently, like he was savouring your taste before he had to inevitably pull away. It made your insides jump around like crazy, hearing him enjoying himself, and you tried your best to come to when he started easing the pressure of his lips, pressing small, chaste kisses to them instead as you ultimately (but slowly) broke apart.

You opened your eyes, blinking up at him, hands falling from his hair, aware you had become one with your cushions. You struggled to free yourself as he sat back and you watched him smile fondly at you. His breath was shaky – so was yours, and you were sure his hands trembled slightly as one reached up to scratch the back of his neck. His neck that was blotched with red, flushed, travelling to his cheeks. They were rosier than you’d ever seen them before. Your gut stirred.

“I’ve been dreaming of that,” he told you, before making a face at himself. “Too cringey?”

You giggled – it sounded foreign. “Just a bit.” But didn’t deter the fact you loved it.

You warmed when you felt him squeeze your hip, realising his hand was still there and you reached for it, tangling your fingers with his. He pulled them to his mouth, kissing your knuckles softly. His expression was thoughtful when he lowered your hands. “In all seriousness, thank you for giving me a chance, after well, you know, everything.”

You smiled, touched by his earnestness, but it was hard to keep a sane mind when his lips were as kiss bitten as they were – deep pink and glistening. You wanted to kiss his face off.

“It’s no problem,” you quipped, as if you were doing him a favour.

He chuckled tenderly, and luckily for you he was unable to stop himself from kissing you again. He reached forward, hooking a finger under your chin to press his mouth to yours softly. “I’d really love if we could keep on doing… this.” He murmured.

“The dating or the kissing,” you grinned, stealing another kiss in the process.

“Hm,” he contemplated. “Both preferably.”

And then you were on one another again, eager once more.

Although, you did manage to pull away briefly to tell him something, his mouth moving to the side of your face to kiss there instead as your hands dragged down his back. You were somehow able to get the words out – ones that made him laugh against your wet jaw.

“I’m so glad you hit my car.”

Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

#seokjn fanfic #bts fanfic #jin fanfic #floralseokjin:writings #fic:mls

1K notes · View notes

whats-k-popping · 3 years ago

Note

any-thing namjin.....

im so fucking hungry...

Bon Appétit <3

Thanks for the request. I hope you're satisfied!

Pairing: Namjin - romantic feelings between members ft. matchmaker Yoongi

Words: 3166

Warnings: Romantic relationship between members || Sick Member || Fever (honestly, it's pretty soft. Not a whole lot to warn about)

Kim Seokjin is good at a lot of things, actually he is great at a lot of things. He is an amazing vocalist, and a great chef. He’s a good friend and bandmate, always offering support when it was needed. Kim Seokjin seems to be so good at everything. But, he’s not very good at lying. Especially not to his eldest dongsaeng.

Yoongi catches a glimpse of Seokjin when he enters their bedroom. Seokjin’s movements are sluggish and his feet drag along the floor. His arms are wrapped around his body and small beads of sweat glisten the visible portion of the back of his neck. He’s seen that posture before. “Hey, hyung.” He greets.

“A-ah, Yoongi-yah.” The older man jolts when he’s addressed. He quickly stands up straight and throws his hands into his pockets. “I thought you were already at the company?”

“I decided to work from home.” The younger man thinks for a moment. Should he see if Seokjin will open up to him? Or should he get straight to the point? Given that he has some time to kill, Yoongi decides to test his trust in his hyung. “I haven’t seen you all day. Where’ve you been?”

Seokjin smiles awkwardly, “Around.” He replies, his voice cracking. He forces himself to cough, hoping it will clear his throat.

“Your voice sounds weird.” Yoongi decides to continue playing for a bit before he reveals his charade. “Are you okay?”

Seokjin nods, “Just a tickle,” he replies, not wanting to utter any more words than he needs to. He fears his dongsaeng may be starting to realize something was wrong.

“You’re all sweaty, hyung. Did you come from a practice? Or did Jungkook drag you to the gym with him?” Yoongi asks.

Seokjin can hear the sarcasm in Yoongi’s voice. Most people find it hard to detect because he always has a sarcastic tone. But Seokjin has mastered all the inflections of Yoongi’s voice. He blushes a deep shade of red. Has Yoongi already figured it out? Has he been playing with him from the start? Whatever the case, he still isn’t going to give up. “An extra dance practice.” He replies curtly, his voice still maintaining a rasp.

Yoongi sighs. He gets off his bed to look into Seokjin’s eyes. They have always been Seokjin’s biggest giveaway. The elder’s eyes are bloodshot, the usually chocolatey brown eyes were dulled to nearly gray; he looks exhausted. “You’re such a bad liar, Seokjinnie-hyung.” Yoongi smiles again, leading his hyung to bed. “Come on, let’s get you in bed.”

Seokjin just follows Yoongi’s lead, accepting his fate. “Yoongi-yah,” He rasps. Yoongi looks at his hyung, signaling him to continue. “Please, don’t tell the others.”

Yoongi laughs, “So that’s why you lied to me. You don’t want anyone else to know.” He tucks Seokjin under the covers. “But you should know better than to lie to me, I could see it the second you walked in the room.”

Seokjin half smiles. It’s nice to know that his dongsaeng pays attention. He pulls a thermometer out of the drawer in his night stand. “I can take care of myself, Yoongi. You don’t need to take care of me.” Seokjin sticks the thermometer in his mouth and stares at Yoongi.

“I know. I just want to see how bad it is.” They wait in silence for the beep. His fever’s nearing 39 degrees. Seokjin groans, falling back onto his bed. Yoongi chuckles, ruffling Seokjin’s hair a bit. “Get some rest.”

“You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?” Seokjin asks.

“I can’t not tell. Otherwise everyone’s going to wonder where you are.” Yoongi explains. He goes back down on his own bed and starts packing up his equipment. “Why are you so adamant about that?”

“I don’t want the younger ones to go out of their way to take care of me, like when Hobi was sick.” Seokjin blushes, pulling his blanket up above his mouth.

Yoongi wants to laugh, but he knows Seokjin is being very serious. “Don’t worry, hyung. I’ll tell the guys that you want to be left alone.” He put his hand on Seokjin’s cheek. “I’m going to go to the company building so you can get some rest. But I’ll come by to check on you later, okay?” He smiles as he heads towards the door.

When the door shuts, Seokjin makes himself comfortable in his bed and tries to fall asleep. He has to admit, it is nice knowing that his dongsaeng is always looking out for him. Even when his fears seemed unjustified. And he was even more relieved that he didn’t have to go to schedules feeling as miserable as he does.

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

After a few hours of work, Yoongi rushes back to the dorms to check on Seokjin. He’s already talked with the other members about Seokjin’s condition. And even though they want to accompany Yoongi back, Yoongi insists that they stay away. Some of them put up a fight, Jimin and Jungkook specifically. But Yoongi manages to convince them to respect hyung’s wishes.

Yoongi notices an open bottle of cold medicine on the night table, figuring that Seokjin must have taken it after he left. Softly, he sat down on Seokjin’s bed. He notices how the older man was snoring, or rather deeply breathing, his chest rising and falling at a steady pace. Yoongi places the back of his hand on Seokjin’s cheek, feeling out his fever. He guesses it’s still running high, based solely on the way it burns his skin.

Yoongi leaves to wet wash clothes with cold water and returns to the bedroom. He carefully lifts Seokjin’s bangs and sets the cloth down against his forehead, resting his hair atop the damp cloth. He looks fondly at his hyung.

Yoongi’s phone rings in his pocket. It’s a call from a client he’s been working with. He steps out to take it. He huffs after the call. The client wants to meet with him. Usually, that wouldn’t be a big deal to him. He loves producing, loves when his clients get invested in the project. But he wanted to stay with his hyung today. Someone should be around in case he needs something.

Part of him knows that Seokjin will be okay by himself, but he’d be more comfortable if someone were around. Just in case. And he knows just the member for the job. He dials Namjoon. “How fast can you get to the dorms?”

Namjoon’s curiosity perks up at the question. “Ah, 20-ish minutes. Why?” He asks, slightly worried.

“I have to go to a meeting with a client. So I’m putting you in charge of looking after Seokjin-hyung.” Yoongi confesses.

“But you said earlier that he wants to be left alone,” Namjoon seems perplexed by the request. Not that he minds taking care of his hyung, but he definitely doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

“He doesn’t want everyone coming together and doting over him. But he’s close to you. I don’t think he’ll mind if you’re there.” Yoongi gathers what he needs and leaves the dorm, “I’m heading out. He was asleep when I left. Let him sleep as much as he wants. Maybe change the wash cloth every so often to keep his fever under control. I’ll come back after my meeting.” Before Namjoon has any time for questions, particularly on the clarification on what he was getting himself into, Yoongi hangs up.

Namjoon sighs, a bit annoyed at how short Yoongi can be. But Yoongi entrusts him with the task. So he’s going to do the best that he can. When he arrives at the dorm, he carefully tiptoes over to Seokjin’s bed. Thankfully, his hyung is still asleep. Namjoon sits down on the edge of the bed. The cloth on Seokjin’s forehead is still cool.

Namjoon’s captivated by his sleeping hyung. The leader notices how his hyung’s lips are slightly pursed, creating a whistling sound while he breathes. His breaths are accompanied by a slight rasp, which Namjoon notes is probably a result of his illness. Namjoon jumps slightly when he hears the creaking of the bed frame as Seokjin shifts. “Jinnie,” Namjoon whispers, just to see if his hyung is awake.

“Yoongi-yah. Show some respect for your hyung.” Seokjin replies with a slight cough. Namjoon chuckles, watching Seokjin toss and turn under the covers.“I still don’t feel well.”

“Jin-hyung. Yoongi-hyung’s not here. It’s Joonie,” Namjoon says skeptically, reaching his hand out and setting it on Seokjin’s shoulder.

Seokjin bolts upright in his bed, a sense of vertigo overcoming him; he ignores it to the best of his ability. The damp cloth previously covering his head falls into his lap. He looks over to Namjoon, his lips curved down. “Where’s Yoongi? What are you doing here?” He asks, his voice hoarse and labored.

“He had to go to a production meeting. He asked me to keep an eye on you,” Namjoon explains, a bit deflated by the reaction he’s getting from his hyung, “He said you wouldn’t mind.” He waits for some kind of response from the older man. After minutes of waiting, Namjoon sighs, “But, if you don’t want me here…” He starts to stand up from the bed.

“That’s not it, Namjoon-ah.” Seokjin exclaims, bringing on a fit of dry coughs. Namjoon quickly rushes to Seokjin’s side. He rubs the vocalist’s back while he coughs. When the coughing subsides, Namjoon leaves to get Seokjin something to drink.

Seokjin accepts the bottled water with a small smile and a deep blush. He mutters a thank you and takes a small sip, the liquid offering his throat some relief. He sets the drink down on the floor, looking back to Namjoon. “Do you want me to get someone else?” Namjoon sounds devastated, which Seokjin recognizes very quickly.

Seokjin’s heart aches; he hates when Namjoon is in low spirits. He hates to be the reason he’s in low spirits. He grabs Namjoon’s hand and shakes his head slowly, lying back down in the bed. He turns to face Namjoon and offers a weak smile.

Namjoon returns the smile, “Then, can I get you anything?”

“You don’t have to worry about me, Joon-ah.” Seokjin can’t seem to make his blush disappear. “I’m not that sick.”

“Yoongi-hyung said that you had a fever of almost 40 degrees.” Namjoon protests. “That’s pretty bad.”

“I-It wasn’t 40. It was barely 39.” Seokjin fights back, “And I took some medicine, so it’s probably gone down some.”

“Where’s your thermometer?” Namjoon asks, looking around the room. He finds it sitting on Seokjin’s night stand and wastes no time getting it under Seokjin’s tongue. Seokjin sits with a pout on his face while he waits for the beep of the thermometer. Namjoon pulls it out before Seokjin even registers it’s been beeping. “39.6.” Namjoon sighs as he sets the thermometer back down. “That’s really high, Jinnie-hyung.”

Seokjin can’t argue; that is a high fever. He tries to remember what time he took the medicine, wondering if maybe he’s due for another dose. He had forgotten to check the clock when he took the first dose. It was sometime shortly after Yoongi left for the company. That’s all he can remember. Yoongi left, and Seokjin tried to fall asleep. But his head hurt too much; he couldn’t focus on sleep. So he got up and dished himself a dose of medicine. It wasn’t long after that he fell asleep. When he woke up, Namjoon was sitting beside him.

“You should take some medicine.” Namjoon already has the bottle in his hands. He picks up the bottle Seokjin set on the floor and hands it to him, pouring two pills from the bottle.

“I shouldn’t take more yet. I don’t think it’s time.” Seokjin rebuttals.

Namjoon clicks his tongue, putting the pills away. “Then let me get you a new washcloth, a cool one. That might help.” He’s already off before Seokjin can object.

Namjoon returns with a fresh cloth and takes great care to place it on Seokjin’s forehead, smoothing it out so it lays nicely. The leader’s eyes light up. He’s so proud of himself.

Seokjin loves the way Namjoon’s eyes beam at the littlest of things. He always finds himself staring at the gleam in the leader’s eyes. Like in that moment, he has his eyes fixated on Namjoon’s dark sparkling eyes. He can’t help but turn his lips up to a genuine smile. “I’m really glad you’re here, Joonie-ah.” Seokjin says, barely above a whisper.

Namjoon has no trouble hearing it, though. He smiles, resting his hand on his friend’s shoulder. He would be lying if he says that didn’t make his heart flutter in his chest. He enjoys spending time with Seokjin. “I’m glad to be here,” comes his sheepish reply. “To be honest, the second I found out you were sick, I wanted to be here with you. Helping you get better.” His fingers string themselves through his hair with a toothy grin, “But Yoongi insisted that everybody leave you alone.”

Seokjin takes his own hand and sets it atop Namjoon’s, the one already resting on his shoulder. “I asked Yoongi to keep everyone away. I’m not sure why he picked you to stay, but I’m very happy he did.” Seokjin smiles wider, “Just having you here makes me feel better.” With tomato-red cheeks, Seokjin lightly squeezes Namjoon’s hand.

Namjoon starts to blush himself when he feels the light squeeze against his hand. He figures now was as good a time as any to make his move on his hyung. He hopes he’s not getting the wrong idea. He slowly raises his hand off Seokjin’s shoulder and uses it to cup his face. He takes his other hand and brushes the bangs out of Seokjin’s eyes. He takes a moment to look into Seokjin’s eyes.

They don’t have the same intensity that they once held. They look tired and heavy, they look sick. But Namjoon is still lost in them. He leans in, keeping his eyes locked with Seokjin’s. When he’s close enough, he presses his lips gently against Seokjin’s. It makes a slight suctioning sound as he pulls away. Namjoon looks back to Seokjin’s eyes. He was slightly disappointed to see that they’re closed. “Nam-Namjoon.” Seokjin mutters after too many seconds of silence.

“Hyung,” Namjoon replies, still waiting for Seokjin to open his eyes again.

“Why did you -” Seokjin askes, his eyes finally flying open. Namjoon looks into them, expecting to meet a fearful or angry stare. But instead, Seokjin just appears shocked.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” Namjoon stands up from the bed, “I’ll go call Yoongi, or get someone else. Someone else should be here with you.” He makes a move for the door, but he encounters some resistance in the form on a large hand wrapped around his wrist. He looks down to his wrist, looking at how the hand had a grip on him. His eyes follow the hand up to its black haired owner and he gulps.

With all the force he could muster, Seokjin tugs Namjoon back. Namjoon doesn’t put up a fight. The vocalist invites Namjoon to sit on the bed. Namjoon accepts the invitation but maintains a reasonable distance from Seokjin. He stays silent for some time, occasionally glancing at the door. “Did you kiss me because you like me, Namjoon-ah?”

Finding it impossible to speak, Namjoon only manages to nod. He can practically feel the blood rushing to his face, figuring Seokjin might not be the only one with a fever at the end of the day.

“I like you too,” Seokjin rests his head on Namjoon’s shoulder.

A wide smile spreads across the leader’s face, “You - You do? Really?” He has a hard time believing it.

Seokjin nods, “I do.” He coughs, “But you shouldn’t kiss me now. I don’t want you getting sick, too.”

Namjoon wraps his arm around Seokjin, pulling him closer. “I don’t mind getting sick if it means I get to be close to you.” He waits for a response, but receives a yawn instead. “You must be getting tired again.” Namjoon chuckles. Without hesitation, he pulls Seokjin into his lap, the vocalist’s head fitting perfectly in the crook of his neck. “You should get some more sleep, I’ll be here.” He starts comfortingly rubbing Seokjin’s back, lulling him into sleep. Namjoon keeps Seokjin in his arms, even after he falls asleep.

The feeling of warm breath against his skin makes Namjoon smile. He had imagined over one hundred times how he would confess his feelings to his eldest hyung. But he never believed he would actually be able to do it. He never thought it would end up like this. It all seems a little too perfect; his hyung resting peacefully in his lap while he rocks his body back and forth. They’ve slept on one another thousands of times before, but something about this time feels so much more intimate. He could keep Seokjin in his arms forever.

Lost in thought, Namjoon catches himself in the middle of a yawn. He checks the time on his phone. Way later than he expects it to be. Is it really that late already? He can’t believe it. Before he can even consider it, he finds himself feeling exhausted. He doesn’t want to leave Seokjin; but at the same time he desperately wants to go to sleep himself. Giving it little thought, he pulls the covers down on Seokjin’s bed and lays the ill vocalist down. Before Seokjin notices that Namjoon’s touch is gone, the rapper lays down behind him and wraps his arms around his hyungs muscular frame after pulling the blanket up to cover them both.

Seokjin notices the change in positioning and the arms wrapped around his body. He turns around to face his captor, relieved to find it’s only Namjoon. “Joonie.”

Namjoon yawns once again, “Everything okay, hyung?” He asks, running his fingers through sweaty brown hair.

Seokjin smiles weakly, melting as Namjoon’s fingers hover around the nape of his neck. “Thanks for staying?” He replies weakly, fitting his head into the crook of Namjoon’s neck.

Namjoon’s heart stops. His eyes shoot open and his lips pull into a wide smile, “There’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be.” He kisses the top of Seokjin’s head. “Get some more sleep, hyung. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

It does not take long for Seokjin to drift back into sleep, and Namjoon follows closely behind. The rapper keeps his tight hold on Seokjin. He never wants to let go.

It’s after midnight when Yoongi decides to come back to see if his plan worked. He snickers when he sees the two under the covers holding close to one another. Savoring the opportunity, Yoongi takes a quick photograph for evidence (and blackmail). He asks Hoseok if he can sleep with him tonight, giving the new couple some privacy.

A/N: As always, thanks for reading to the end! Feedback is always appreciated. And please let me know if I missed any tags or TWs. Please call me out for any errors you notice!

#bts #bts sickfic #sick!seokjin #caretaker!namjoon #caretaker!yoongi #bts canonverse #namjin #romantic relationship between members #tw fever #aki sickfic #aki writes #aki requests

24 notes · View notes

lubdubsworld · 4 years ago

Text

The Bet. Rated ( 18 +)

Pairing : Taehyung x Jimin X Jungkook x Reader. ( Foursome ) But you can see that i favor Taehyung a whole lot here ;)

Warnings : Listen, this is a foursome...three hung guys fuck one girl if you’re gonna need warnings I’m gonna just say , unfollow me. :D

Just kidding : Everything is consensual and everyone has a good time . yes and thank you.

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

“You’re serious? All three of us ? At the same time?” Jungkook’s eyes are even bigger than usual which is really saying something. You squint into them, trying to fathom where that devilish sparkle comes from. it’s so fucking unfair. The dude has eyes like bambi and the twin orbs seem to carry every star in the fucking milkyway.

“Sure...” You slur, only a little drunk but still feeling it. Next to Jungkook his best buddies, Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin stand leaning against the kitchen counter , watching you like you’re the last meal they’ll ever have.

You blink a bit, trying to remember what you were talking about.

Oh, yeah.

The Bet.

“Sure, Jungkook-ah.... you guys win the match this friday and I’ll let you fuck me. All three of you. “

It’s actually pretty stupid, how amusing this whole thing is to you.

Don’t these idiots know who they’re playing this weekend? Astro are national level players.... They’ve played in matches in other countries for fuck sake. the likelihood of Bangtan winning the basketball match on friday is none to none.

“I’m gonna want that in writing, angel.” Kim Taehyung’s deep as fuck voice practically vibrates through your body, his sultry brown eyes heavy with lust as he stares you down .

You gaze at him, the beautiful features clearly crafted to perfection by some god looking to show off. You don’t see beauty like Kim Taehyung on the regular and it feels like a scam, that people get to look at his face for free. A privilege if there ever was one, you think reverently.

But for all his beauty, he’s still very much a stranger to you.

Jimin and Jungkook live next door and are your friends. You’ve known them for years. Even hooked up with them a couple of times ( individually that is ) . Jungkook’s a sweetheart, kind and generous and Jimin is a bit of a pervert but very gentle.

You like them.

Kim Taehyung’s the one here you don’t really know too well. Taehyung’s the new transfer student, and for all his beauty and popularity he holds himself aloof from others. Polite but somehow intimidating. He doesn’t have a lot of friends save for Jimin and Jungkook and he’s turned down every girl that’s asked him out so far.

In fact you half expected him to make a noise of disgust and walk away when you offered to let the three star players of the basketball team , fuck you in the locker rooms after the match if they won the match on friday.

You certainly hadn’t expected him to straighten up, face showing interest for the first time this entire night, eyes lighting up as he sauntered closer , clearly eager to make you follow through on your promise.

There’s a very familiar voice screaming in the back of your head, going, ‘ what the fuck are you doing you idiot, ‘ but that voice is way too faint. Easily silenced by the lust and anticipation clouding your senses.

You blink at him, affronted.

“You don’t value my word?” You frown deeply. Jimin laughs at that, voice breathy and angelic.

“Not when something like this is at risk.” He teases, eyes fond and eager , but tongue licking his lips as he trails his gaze up and down your body, blatant and shameless in his admiration.

You pout a little, tugging the plush softness of your lower lip between your teeth , too tipsy to notice the way the three men follow the movement, hungry and eager as they stare at your tongue as it peeks out a bit to wet your lips.

“Hmm...okay.” You grab a napkin off the counter, looking around for a pen. But the chances of finding a pen in a frat party is next to none and you frown.

“Here you go angel.” Taehyung taps his chest and you stare. Oh yeah, Taehyung’s wearing a black button down and there’s a shiny pen sticking out of his pocket. You hold your hand out for it but he doesn’t budge. Instead he curls his finger , asking you to come get it yourself.

“So mean.” You pout, voice a little whiny as you move to get it from him. He’s so distressingly tall and you reach up to grab the pen, only to stumble a little, face crashing into his chest.

Strong arms come around your body, grip hard and sturdy and the scent of his cologne makes saliva pool in your mouth. You’re almost drooling because of how fucking good he smells, how warm he feels and god he’s built like a dream. Hard abs, thick arms and broad shoulders. His fingers grip your waist, squeezing hard and you wince a bit because it stings .

“little slut.” He whispers, and you blink , confused. You look up at his face and there’s nothing but fondness there, like he’s praising you.

You press your fists against his chest to push away from him. His hand shoots out gripping your wrist hard before bringing it up to his chest.

“Your pen, angel.” He smirks and you grab it quickly, shaking his grip off your wrist.

You stare down at the napkin in your hand.

“What am i supposed to write here?” You feel completely disoriented. Both Jimin and Jungkook merely smile and its Taehyung who steps forward, eyes glinting.

“Let me help.” he drawled, leaning over the counter and scribbling quickly on the piece of paper. i watched as he straightened away eyes flitting to see what he’d written.

I, ---- , agree to be the perfect little cum dumpster for Kim Taehyung, Jeon Jungkook and Park Jimin, for the duration of one night , to be an obedient little slut, doing as asked , when asked without putting up a fight, like the whore that I am....

I felt blood rush to my ears, the words obscene and wrong in my ear.

It was a good thing there was no chance they would win.

I glared at him, signing the paper with a flourish.

“Did you even read it?” He raised an eyebrow.

You nod.

“Read it aloud for me anyway, angel. Just so i can be sure.”

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

“I’ve never seen you at a match before.” Your best friend looks completely surprised by your presence in the front row , at the game on friday night. You’re here for one reason and one reason only.

To gloat in Kim Taehyung’s face after he faces crushing defeat in the hands of the other team.

Except, that’s not quite what happens.

Astro are good but apparently the only thing your school had needed all along was one Kim fucking Taehyung. He seemed to know exactly what plays the other team was going to use , out maneuvering them each time and you feel the first inkling of regret begin to stir. Throat going just a little dry at half time ,you turn to your friend.

“How’s he beating their ass like that?” You croak out pointing at Taehyung, who’s drinking water . His eyes are searching the crowd and you just know. Instinctively, that he’s looking for you. Feeling hunted, you crouch lower, gripping your friends arm in a death grip.

“Didn’t you know? He used to play for them before he transferred here. “

Your heart takes a straight dive to your knees.

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

When the match ends, Bangtan winning by a huge margin, you hightail it out of the stands. You get held up a bit by the crowds, a precious fifteen minutes pent fighting the throng of bodies and you can feel your pulse racing.

The bet said one night. Not tonight.

So maybe you could put it off... maybe you could get some time... just to prepare yourself... getting fucked by three guys at once was definitely NOT on your bucket list and while the idea is thrilling and exciting you just need to get your bearings, get some semblance of clarity in your head.

The halls are deserted , nearly everyone is at the game and you begin running , almost sighing in relief when you reach the final turn in the hallway , opening into the parking lot.

You turn the corner, still running , only to crash straight into a broad , strapping body.

His fucking scent is what hits you first and you panic.

no...no..fuck...

Before you can get away he wraps one arm right around your middle, lifting you clear off the ground , his palm coming down to muffle the scream that bubbles up your throat and the sound of Taehyung’s deep laughter makes your hair stand on end.

“Welcome to my parlor, said the spider to the fly.” Taehyung sings softly into your ear and you close your eyes in despair.

Now you know that the faint voice you ignored that night was the voice of reason.

It takes you a second to notice that both Jungkook and Jimin are there as well, freshly showered and dressed in sweats looking cheerfully amused.

“Changed your mind, baby?” Jimin teases and Taehyung growls behind you, the sound low and raspy against your ear.

“Like hell she has. Know what I’ve been jerking off to for the past week? Play it for her ...jungkook-ah.”

Jungkook looks entirely too happy as he fumbles with his phone.

Your own voice fills the hallway, soft and sultry and slurring just a little.

“ I,----, agree to be the perfect little cum dumpster for Kim Taehyung, Jeon Jungkook and Park Jimin, for the duration of one night , to be an obedient little slut, doing as asked , when asked without putting up a fight, like the whore that I am....”

You whimper because yes...you definitely said that out loud and fuck him for having recorded it when had he even done that.... and yup you definitely signed a paper too.

“ Did you change your mind, angel?” Taehyung asks gently and you hesitate. Your body is already thrumming with anticipation and the idea of putting this off , going through it all over again is unappealing. Why not just get it over with?

Hos bad could it possibly be , right?

You shake your head slowly.

“Good girl.” Taehyung’s arm relaxes a bit, letting you go and you stumble away, moving to Jimin instinctively You know Jimin. Jimin is safe.

The latter gives you a warm hug, pulling you closer.

“I got you, baby.” He says softly, pressing a kiss to your cheek,” its just a good time. You’ll have fun. Don’t be scared.” He soothes. Taehyung’s eyes glint devilishly and Jungkook rubs a reassuring hand up and down your arm.

“We’ll take my car. “ Taehyung says coolly, slinging an arm around Jungkook’s shoulder and dragging him along, , already walking away and you cling to Jimin for security, following the other two to the parking lot.

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

Taehyung is, apparently filthy rich.

He has a huge dance studio in his house and apparently, he was well prepared. Your eyes fall on the plush mattress on the floor, the condoms nearby and you feel yourself flushing.

You open your mouth , ready to say something...what you’re not so sure, but then Jungkook is grabbing you by the arm, yanking you forward and pressing his lips against yours. You’ve kissed him enough times that it is instinctive for you to put you hand on his shoulder while he holds your waist gently, his tongue licking its way into your mouth as he tilts his face to get a better angle

“Can’t believe you agreed to get your cunt wrecked by three guys at the same time.... It’s just like they say... its always the ones that look innocent. ” Taehyung’s voice is soft against your ear and you can feel him behind you, pressed up against your back.

You shiver when firm hands come around you from the back, Taehyung’s fingers making quick work of the buttons on your blouse. Before you can fully process it, Jimin’s already yanking your skirt and underwear down in one clean move. You feel Taehyung’s long fingers flick your bra open easily and you shiver when the fabric falls away, leaving you fully naked in front of three fully dressed men.

“You don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into, angel.” Taehyung taunts, pressing closer and rolling his hips into your back, his clothed erection pressing against the cleft of your ass .

You can feel yourself getting wet already, you pussy clenching around nothing, your insides aching . You clench your fists to ground yourself. It was way too early to be feeling this desperate, you think wildly. you won’t survive the night if you get so aroused so quickly.

Taehyung hums hands falling on your waist, cool against your bare skin and he trails his hand down to the flesh of your thighs, fingers digging in with enough force to make you whimper.

“Shut up, you little slut, i barely touched you.” Taehyung snaps, slapping your thigh. Hard.

Jungkook pulls back when you choke a little at the pain. Taehyung points at the younger with a smile.

“Go strip and lie down on the mattress Jungkook-ah. Let’s have her sit on your face for a while.” He says calmly and Jungkook moves to obey quickly. While he strips, Jimin moves to take his place, kissing you gently , hands reaching down to shape your breasts, thumbs rubbing against your nipples till the nubs pucker up, hard and throbbing.

Fingers slip into your pussy, so long and thick that your eyes widen in shock at the intrusion. Taehyung is rough and ruthless, fucking into you with ease.

“Not as tight as i expected. You get around huh , angel?” He asks casually and you feel like your entire body is one fire. Jimin kneads your breasts, tongue licking into your mouth as he moans, tasting you. You can see Jungkook over Jimin’s shoulder, while Taehyung fucks his long, fingers into you , hard and rough. He’s stripped fully now and your eyes drink in the sight of him naked, muscles on display and you tremble, because he looks so fucking good.

“Hmm.. Jungkook looks good huh baby? He’s gonna fuck you so good tonight. All nice and gentle and considerate ... because he’s a good little kid....Not like me. I’m gonna make you fucking limp. “ Taehyung slips one hand around to rub a thumb against your clit, and you clench down around his fingers.

Jimin pulls back.

“You talk too fucking much. Let me fuck her now.” He drawls, eyes dancing as he tugs you closer . You whimper when Taehyung’s finger slip right out, wetness spilling out of you , dripping down your thigh with ease.

Taehyung wraps an arm around your waist and lifts you up, before taking a couple of steps and tossing you on the mattress. You bounce for a second, surprised and then before you can get yourself together, Jimin is pushing you up on top of Jungkook.

“Come and straddle my shoulders, beautiful.” Jungkook says sweetly and your thighs feel like jelly. You struggle a bit to do as as asked, sitting on his chest , knees hitting the mattress on either side of his face and he reaches out, gripping your waist and pulling you closer till your pussy is right over his mouth.

“Guk-ah wait. “ You turn around and Jimin is right behind you, kneeling over Jungkook’s chest as well, stroking his cock to full hardness.

Jungkook laughs a little.

“Looks like Jimin hyung wants to fuck you while I eat you out... Spread your thighs a little, baby.” He says.

You glance up at Taehyung, who’s watching you carefully, fingers lazily stripping off his own clothes and you swallow, turning away to the front and spreading your knees a bit more.

You almost lose balance and crash forward, but strong hands grip your arms, keeping you kneeling over the youngest and you stare up at Taehyung, who’s standing right over jungkook, his cock right up against your face. You stare at the hard, thick length of it mouth watering and he laughs knowingly.

“Can always tell a good slut apart from the look in her eyes.” He grins, “ You look like you can’t wait for me to fuck your mouth , angel.”

“No , I-” you’re cut off by the thick cockhead nudging your entrance and you grab Taehyung’s waist to steady yourself, gasping when Jimin slides right into you from behind. The feeling of being filled

“Fuck, Jimin hyung, i can see your cock fucking right into her pretty pink pussy... She’s dripping all over my face.” Jungkook’s awed voice makes your cheek flame and you grip taehyung harder.

“Lick her clit, jungkook’ ah ...make her cum....” Taehyung says causally, before carefully leaning down and gripping your jaw. His fingers dig into your skin , making you open your mouth.

“Your tongue feels a little too dry , angel..” He comments, after slipping two fingers into your mouth.” i like my fuckholes wet and messy.... “ He smiles, leaning closer. You feel jungkook’s tongue flicking rapidly against your clit and your thighs tremble as Jimin fucks into you. Jungkook uses his finger to lightly pinch your clit and you feel yourself get wetter dripping all over his chin and Jimin swears.

“Fuck so fucking wet...” He fucks into you harder, the squelching sound loud and embarrassing in the room.

Taehyung smiles fondly.

“ Knew you’d be the perfect little fuck toy....Hold your tongue out for me....” To far gone to think, you stick your tongue out and he smiles, “ Don’t fucking swallow...” He instructs and your eyes widen when he leans over and opens his mouth, spitting a mouthful of his spit into your tongue. Before you can fully process it , he’s already feeding his thick cock into your mouth, hands reaching back to grip your hair hair yanking your head back.

He uses one hand to keep your head back, the other tracing your throat, feeling the bulge of his dick through the skin of your neck as he shoves his cock right down your throat. Your eyes water, drooling slipping out of the corner of your mouth as you inhale shakily every time he pulls out, gripping his waist to stop your self from collapsing into a heap on the mattress.

The sensation of being fucked by Jimin , and having Jungkook’s tongue all over your clit , flicking the throbbing swollen nub, while Taehyung fucked your mouth raw with sharp powerful thrust is something you won’t forget till the day you fucking die.

“Your cunt’s dripping wet for us...you love this don’t you pretty?” Jungkook teases between licks and Jimin laughs.

“Slutty little kittens like her always like getting their cunt wrecked....” He presses kisses all over your neck and Taehyung merely groans, fingers tightening on your scalp, yanking you closer so he can fuck you deeper.

“Tight little cunt...can’t wait to fucking break it. “ Taehyung hisses and the words tip you over the edge, your pussy clenching around Jimin , who stiffens at the sensation.

“Fuck... I’m coming.” He grunts, gripping your waist hard, hips stuttering as he spilled into the condom . Jungkook groans at that.

“About fucking time hyung, “ He sighs, pulling away from your clit, licking the juices spilling out of your fucked out cunt, “ my cock hurts...get the fuck away I need to get in her....fuck.”

You feel your limbs turn to jelly and Taehyung pulls out of your mouth as well as you collapse a bit.

“You okay baby...need a drink of water?” Jimin asks softly and you nod. He moves away to get the bottle and Jungkook crawls up the mattress till you’re straddling his hips.

“Can i fuck you?” He asks hesitantly and you laugh a little at the tone of his voice. Fuck...he looks like he’s asking for banana milk or something. Before you can fully appreciate the duality of the kid, he’s lining himself up against your entrance and thrusting up into you.

“Hang on Jungkook ah... let me join you.” Taehyung says softly . Your eyes snap open and you stare up at him.

“What? i think i deserve to get a turn with that slutty cunt , too right?” He laughed, moving to kneel on the mattress next to you. Jungkook stops moving clearly confused about the mechanics but Taehyung merely grabs your waist and lifts you up.

“Wrap your legs around my waist, he prompts and you do as he says.

“Hyung...” Jungkook whines from the mattress in protest and Taehyung gives him a glare.

“Patience Jungkook-ah..” He says sternly. “ I’m gonna lean back against the wall and you’re going to slip in with me. We’ll fuck her together ..... Make sure she remembers this for a while....” he smirks.

Jimin appears then, fully dressed and with bottle of water. He opens it for you, holding the mouth against your lips and you take big greedy gulps of the liquid.

“Ready to get DP’d baby? Cross that off your bucket list?” Jimin asks with a smirk and you groan.

“I’m not forgiving you for this.” You croak out at him. Your voice scratchy from disuse. You haven’t spoken a word to Taehyung this entire time. Although its clear he’s the one running this entire show. You just can’t bring yourself to say anything to his face. He terrifies you and the worst part is how arousing that fear is.

Jungkook stands up then , stroking his cock impatiently.

“I need to fuck her now. Its not fair that I’m the only one who hasn’t had a turn yet” He pouts petulantly and you swallow, wrapping your arms tighter around Taehyung’s neck. He startles when you bury your nose into his neck, moving your hips a bit till the head of his cock is pressed against your slit.

“I’m ready...” You whisper softly, literally the first words you’ve spoken to him since this started and he swallows.

“Good girl. ” He says gently and you tremble at how deep his voice is. He grips the back of your thighs, spreading you open before gently lowering you down onto his cock . He’s bigger than Jimin and you have to grit your teeth to take in the length of him.

“poor Jungkookie....he looks like he’s gonna cry...” His fingers flutter down to where his cock is fucking into you, tracing the seam of your pussy and scooping up the wetness of your arousal. You groan when he slips two fingers in along with his cock, stretching you out a bit more.

“You can take it.... Your body ...fuck... so tight and so fucking hot...you were built for this... the perfect little doll...”

You feel yourself slipping but then there’s a familiar warm body, pressed up against your back and you sigh as Jungkook grips your waist holding you up steadier, lining his dick up against your pussy.

“Gonna push in, sweetheart.” Jungkook presses a wet kiss against your shoulder.

“Just relax....don’t clench down....relax and your body will do all the work for you angel...relax and you can take both of us in...” Taehyung whispers. You breathe in deep, exhaling harshly. Fear is still simmering on the surface. you’ve never done something like this before.

“Ready...” He prompts and you take a deep breath, letting your limbs go limp on the exhale and Jungkook pushes in , cleaving his way into your body with one smooth stroke.

The pressure is unbearable and you feel like you’re being split apart. But you also feel so incredibly full, both of them lodged so deep inside you that you can feel them in your gut. You let your eyes shut close, dropping your head down on Taehyung’s shoulder.

“Ready, kook-ah?” Taehyung says suddenly and you eyes fly open. Ready for what.

Without warning, Jungkook pulls out and just as he pushes back in Taehyung pulls out.

Your entire body clenches at the sensation, pleasure hitting every single inch of you as they set up a rhythm , taking turns to fuck into you and you can only hang on , gripping Taehyung’s shoulders as your body burns hotter and hotter, fire licking up your insides where you feel swollen and tender and fucking ruined.

This time when you cum, you black out.

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

You wake up in an unfamiliar room, showered and wearing a really big white t shirt and a pair of silk boxers and you blush.

God this was embarrassing. You’re feeling surprisingly okay, consider what just happened. A little sore but nothing too terrible.

The knock on the door makes you jump.

“Come in .” You said softly.

Its Taehyung.

“Hey... How are you doing ?” He asks with a little smile, a glass of water in his hand and you feel yourself flushing.

“I... is Jimin around... “ You ask desperately.

“He’s gone home. You sort of passed out so I brought you here.” He was staring at you so intently, you couldn’t quite think clearly.

“Oh well.. I’m fine.. you should drop me home.” You say shrilly.

"i called your mother. Told her you were having a sleepover with my sister. So you can crash here for the night. ”

“Your sister? “ you blink

“Taehee? She’s in pre med....”

“Oh...okay.” you smile awkwardly.

“I’ll leave the door open. I’m in the guest room down the hall.” he says pointing.

that startles you.

You look around curiously, finally noticing the posters and the basket ball jersey in the closet.

“this is your room?”

He nods.

“ I can sleep in the guest room!”

He smiles.

“The bed’s lumpy there.”

You bite your lips, fighting a smile.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Or maybe you just want your sheets to smell like me.” You don’t know where this is coming from. Are you really flirting with Kim Taehyung?

He laughs.

“Maybe. Good night, ------”

He locks the door behind him as he leaves.

~~~~~~~!~~~~~~~~

Author’s note : how to waste two hours : a memoir by me.

#taehyung smut #jungkook smut #maknaeline smut #bts smut #bts au #bts fics

349 notes · View notes

artaefact · 4 years ago

Text

a letter in roses.

—wordcount: 8k+

—genre: FLUFF, romance, CEO au, valentine’s day au, husband!taehyung

—pairing: kim taehyung x f reader ft. florist!hobi, baker!jimin & ???!jk

—rating: 18+

—warnings: cheesy fluff, taehyung wants the tea, taehyung is kinda a hazard in the kitchen, yeontan being a little rascal, suggestive themes, swearings

—summary: Since it’s the first time celebrating Valentine’s Day with you as his wife, Taehyung goes the extra mile of preparing something special for you. After all, he has managed to run a billion-dollar worth company. So, preparing handmade delicacies should be simple enough, right?

author’s note: this is part of the bangtan pastries collab hosted by @suhdays !! AND ALSO ____ and [Name] are two different ocs so hopefully it’s not confusing !! happy reading everyone 💖

Valentine's Day. The day where people spend time with their loved ones, either going out to celebrate or spending quality time together at home. Just anything to bring a smile to their loved ones' faces.

Taehyung used to question this annual occasion—a lot. What is truly the purpose of this day? Don't you have to make your loved ones happy all the time? What difference does it make to celebrate it on this "special" day and on a typical day? Or, in other words, it was a complete waste of time and energy—is what he used to say.

For many years, Taehyung's only companions on this day are paperwork, meetings, and... more paperwork. So, it's not surprising how disinterested he is at the thought of celebrating Valentine's Day.

But today, he barely can stifle his smile and contain his excitement throughout the morning conference. The minute when the meeting ends, he strides out of the room and heads straight back home.

His employees had stared at him in awe after he announced that everyone can leave work early today. Everyone wonders what has gotten Kim Taehyung so excited on Valentine's Day until they remember that he is, now, officially a husband. Taehyung no longer frequently locks himself in his office until past midnight dealing with documents and phone calls. Not when you're waiting for him at home. Sometimes he'd even cut his work hours short if he deems himself deserving just to see you faster.

Everyone can see how utterly in love the boss is with his wife. Just the mention of your name is enough to grace his usual stern expression with a soft smile.

So, it's not surprising that an annoyed sigh emits from Taehyung's lips when his work phone dings just as he steps out of the elevator on his penthouse floor. Taking out his phone, he reads an urgent message that some part of the meeting's presentation details have not been mentioned to him earlier. For once, Taehyung wishes work can give him a break. Today is supposed to be a special day, after all.

Shoving his phone back into his pocket, Taehyung walks into his home. Soft jazzy music plays from the living room, along with the tinge of coffee fragrance wafting in the air, ebbing his growing annoyance away. He takes off his dress shoes before entering even further, knowing full well how his wife would make him clean up if he stains the Persian rug you received as a wedding gift. With a pair of home slippers covering his feet, he emerges from the front hallway to the living room as he shrugs off his navy pinstripe suit jacket and loosens his tie.

Taehyung hears the rapid padding of pawsteps first as a fluffy friend appears out of the kitchen, greeting Taehyung with a woof and an excited wag of his tail, scampering to his owner. Smiling, Taehyung crouches to give Yeontan a backrub as the pomeranian revels at the affection.

After a few moments, he walks to the kitchen—Yeontan still excitedly following—where the smell of coffee grows stronger. He finds you sipping on your morning coffee and scrolling through your tablet—perhaps, reading the latest news—as you sit on the bar table of the kitchen.

Sensing his presence, your head turns to the doorway. “Hey, you're back.”

“Mhmm… Finished my meetings earlier today.” He closes the distance, giving you a kiss on the cheek. “You ate breakfast already?”

You nod. “Have you?” He shakes his head. “You go change, I'll whip up something for you.” You place your tablet down on the counter. “Are toasts and eggs, okay?”

He nods in response.

Standing up from the barstool, you are about to make your way to the counter when your husband stops you. “You haven't given me a kiss ever since I've arrived back home.” He pouts, arms circling your waist to keep you still.

You chuckle at his antics. Cupping his face between your hands, you place a chaste kiss on his lips. “There.”

“More please.” And you comply, placing another, and another…

You move your hands down, placing it on his chest when he releases his hold on your waist, cupping your face, finally giving you a deep kiss. Your heart is on the verge of bursting at the touch of his lips. Granted, you both shared kisses so many times, but each and every single one never fails to spread warmth in your chest. And you love to see his dazed expression or his bright smile afterwards.

After a few moments, you pull away, grinning. “Okay, go change.” Your smile so bright Taehyung just can't get enough as he still clings to you. “I have an appointment today before our dinner date.”

Taehyung raises a brow, now realising that you're dressed up. “Where might you be going?”

You simply poke his nose with a secretive grin. He pouts at your lack of response, watching you move behind the counter. You take out two slices of bread—putting them in the toaster—and eggs from the fridge.

With a soft smile on his face, Taehyung goes to the bedroom and freshens up, quickly changing to his usual home attire. He comes back to the kitchen donning a white shirt and a pair of shorts, finding you already setting up the plate on the counter.

He stops at your side, watching you place the scrambled eggs near the toast. Then the moment you're done, he wraps his arms around your shoulders.

“What's gotten into you today?”

“Can't I shower my wife with love?” He nuzzles his nose to the crook of your neck.

You laugh softly. “Alright, alright. Now, let me just—” You place the plate on the counter, Taehyung still embracing you. “—put this. And… Do you want strawberry juice?”

He nods eagerly. You open the fridge (yes, with Taehyung is still clinging to you) and take out the cut-up frozen strawberries before placing them in the blender and pouring some water.

“Go eat, baby.” You face him after turning the blender on. “I'll be with you in a minute.”

Taehyung gives you a kiss on the cheek then moves to sit on the bar table where you have placed his breakfast. After you place a glass of strawberry juice near him, you sit next to him.

“What are your plans for today?” You ask, resting your chin on one hand.

“Hmm…” He sits straighter, swallowing the food in his mouth. With a teasing smirk, he faces you. “Well, I was planning to spend the whole day with my lovely wife. But unfortunately, I can't do that until our dinner date.”

“Should I cancel my appointments today…?” You actually look worried, and Taehyung blinks.

“No!” He says almost too quickly. “I mean— It's okay, really. We'll have our dinner date. Plus, I have another meeting to attend to soon.”

“Thought you said you were done with work today?”

“Something else came up,” Taehyung sighs in annoyance, remembering the text he received earlier from one of his employees. “I have to make a few calls. But I wouldn't miss our first Valentine dinner date after our marriage.”

You chuckle. “Alright, I should call taxi—”

Taehyung stops you. “Y/N, you know you can use my chauffeur, right?”

“The taxi's fine—” You yelp as Taehyung tugs you close to him, causing you to nearly sliding off from your seat. Placing your hands on your husband's broad shoulders, you steady yourself.

“Love, call my chauffeur, hmm?” His voice turns low, and you fight back a shiver. “I know you're still getting used to this—” He motions towards the whole penthouse. “—but at least, let me make it easier for you today, yeah?”

Inhaling a sharp breath, you nod. “O-Okay.”

A sly grin decorates his pretty lips at your agreement. “Good.” Straightening yourself, you climb down the stool. Taehyung places a chaste kiss on your lips, and you are still in a daze at the sudden change of his demeanour. You walk out of the kitchen and reach the end of the hallway. While putting on your shoes, his face peeking from the living room, and he pipes, “Don't be late for dinner!”

When the front door closes, you place a hand on your chest — on top of your still pounding heart. You let out a breath, and a smile curls up on the corner of your lips.

I swear he's going to be the death of me.

After you leave, Taehyung is left alone to his own devices. He goes to his office space with Yeontan following on his trail. Turning his laptop on, he glares at the screen. Work seems to follow him wherever and whenever despite having worked his ass off. But he’ll ensure that nothing will ruin your date night today.

Taking a deep breath, he turns on his camera, not even bothering to change out of his home attire. Taehyung’s expressions have said it all as one of his company’s branch managers who messaged him fidgets on the screen under his stare.

“What else are we missing?” His voice like the calm before the storm. “I thought the meeting earlier today has been concluded.”

“I forgot that there are some things that…” The manager rambles on, and Taehyung can sense a headache looming.

Taehyung rubs his temple as the manager finishes prattling. Sitting up straighter, he advises, “I’m going to say this only once, you work in this position to oversee the marketing branch of my company. It is your job to ensure that all the little details for today’s meeting have been presented. So, this type of incident will not happen again. Do I make myself clear?”

The manager nods rapidly.

“Good,” Taehyung leans back on his leather chair. “Now, is that all?”

Again, the manager nods.

Finally.

After ending the call and answering a few more emails, Taehyung emerges out of the office room and plops down the couch with Yeontan in his arms. He stretches his neck to the right and left, ear to his shoulder. The pomeranian rests comfortably against his chest until the doorbell rings, surprising the poor dog.

Ah, Taehyung almost forgot. He coos at the stunned dog, a light giggle escaping his lips before putting Yeontan on the dog bed, right beside the living room’s couch. “Stay, I’ll be back.” Then he walks to the door, peeking through the peephole as a grin appears on his face. Opening the door, Jimin and Jungkook pop in with smiles on their faces.

“Hey man, long time no see.” Jimin wraps his arms around Taehyung, patting his back. “How’s it going?”

“It’s rare for you to call us nowadays,” Jungkook comments after giving Tae a hug as well.

“Yeah, I’ve been working my ass off.” Taehyung sighs and locks the door.

“Where’s Y/N?” Jimin emerges out of the hallway, and he crouches as Yeontan approaches him in the living room. “Hey, buddy. Long time no see.”

“What the hell? He’s grown so much, hyung.” Jungkook follows suit, petting the pomeranian and letting out the giggle when Yeontan playfully licks him.

Taehyung clears his throat. “Y/N is out for an appointment, and you guys need to help me.”

“Right,” Jimin stands up, recalling the text Taehyung sent him a few days ago. “So, I think we can finish in around three hours? It’s only six pastries—”

“One hundred forty three,” Taehyung corrects.

Silence.

Jimin blinks rapidly, processing his friend’s words. “Are you insane? We’ll need so much ingredients for that, and I’m guessing not even your gigantic kitchen can store—”

As if on cue, the doorbell rings again.

“Ah, it has arrived,” Taehyung muses, opening the door once more to reveal a delivery man with a cart full of packed grocery ingredients.

“Delivery for Mr Kim.”

“That would be me.” Taehyung signs the tablet before letting the delivery man unload the boxes. After a few minutes, the boxes are stacked near the hallway. Taehyung turns to his friends, “So, should we start?”

“Wait, are you seriously planning on baking a hundred forty three pastries?” Jimin’s expression still shows none other than horror. “That’s impossible.”

“But…”

“Nope,” Jimin shakes his head. “That won’t work. Not even if we have more people to help.” Taehyung’s shoulders noticeably droop. Jimin puts a comforting hand on Taehyung’s shoulder and adds, “Look, we can opt for a lesser number of pastries and arrange them. It’ll look great! Plus, knowing your extra ass, I bet you still have something else planned.”

Pursing his lips, Taehyung mumbles, “Well, you’re not wrong.”

“So, we’re settled,” Jimin lets out a relieved sigh.

There’s a funny look on Jungkook’s face as he watches the whole scene unfold. Taehyung raises a brow at the younger one, who responds with a shake of his head. “I thought you lost your mind, hyung. As someone who runs a billionaire company, I thought the stress is finally getting to you.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes before he realises, “Wait, aren’t you working somewhere else now?”

“Today’s an off day for me,” Jungkook shrugs, walking alongside Taehyung to the kitchen. “So, I figured after knowing Jimin hyung is coming here, I’d tag along.”

“I see.” Taehyung sets the sack of apples on the floor beside the main kitchen counter. Jimin is already rummaging through the kitchen for empty bowls to place the necessary ingredients for the pastries. Meanwhile, Yeontan sniffs the sack of apples curiously, nudging it when the apples tumble down, scattering on the floor.

Putting the bags of cinnamon and sugar on the marble counter, Jungkook mutters, “...And now, I’m already regretting.”

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

You watch the snow-covered trees and sidewalks in a passing blur as Taehyung’s chauffeur drives you to the town’s famous flower shop. After turning to the familiar corner of the street, a few minutes later, you arrive.

Tightening your coat tighter to yourself, you climb out of the car, taking your handbag along with you. As soon as you go through the glass door, the owner greets you. “Y/N! You’re finally here!”

“Hobi!” You greet him in a friendly hug. “How have you been? You look great!”

“I’ve been good!” He motions for you to sit on the chair at the front counter. “Just finished arranging all the bouquets for today, and finally have some peace and quiet until the truck returns, then I have to load the second batch of bouquets.”

“You sure having a busy day.” You sit on the wooden chair. “Is ____ here already?”

He shakes his head, but his eyes are filled with mirth. “She’ll come visit later, she has something to do now. So, let’s start on your thing first.”

“Oh! Did you get it?”

Hoseok nods at your question, moving back behind the cashier counter, and crouches down as he rummages through his things. “Here,” he hands you a miniature of a cherry blossom tree inside a small sealed plastic.

Your eyes light up. “Hobi, it’s perfect!”

He smiles at your reaction. “What are you going to use it for?”

“For this.” You take out an empty snow globe from your bag. “It fits perfectly.”

“Well, you did insist for me to get the right measurements.” He chuckles, watching curiously as you unseal the plastic to take out the cherry blossom tree. “If it wasn’t for my fiancé, I would’ve gotten it wrong. She literally measured it down to precision.”

You laugh, placing the tree on the uncapped snow globe. “That’s what I love about her.”

“Me too,” he giggles before clearing his throat, still smiling. “And what bouquet would you like?”

“It’s for Tae. So...”

“Hmm…” Hoseok purses his lips. “Usually, people would go for roses, tulips, and carnations for Valentine’s Day.”

You ponder for a moment, weighing your options for the perfect bouquet for your husband. “I’ll go with carnations, roses, and baby’s breath.” Hoseok nods, eyes calculating as if picturing the bouquet you’d like.

“Is it okay if I use your counter for a while to assemble this?” You point at the snow globe and miniature on the counter.

“Sure~” Hoseok chirps, striding to the buckets of flowers a few steps away.

Then as if on cue, the front door opens. “I hope I’m not late…” ____ smiles at the sight of you, then her gaze shifts to her fiancé briefly, whose eyes are already on her. “I bring the supplies,” she places a bag of arts and craft supplies you requested in front of you.

“Thank you!” You beam, excitedly giving her a hug before rummaging through the bag. “You really brought everything.”

“No problem.” She ruffles your hair affectionately. “I understand that you had to keep this a secret from Tae for the time being.” Then she turns to Hoseok.

“Hey, baby,” Hoseok grins, opening his arms, his glove-covered hands full of picked flowers. She responds with a smile of her own, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Missed you,” Hoseok mumbles into her hair.

She rolls her eyes, “We just saw each other this morning.”

“Missed you every moment,” Hoseok replies cheekily.

You smile to yourself, hearing their exchange as you work on the snow globe. Taking the glue from the bag, you gingerly apply it to the bottom of the miniature cherry blossom and then stick it to the flat surface of the snow globe. You hold it in that position for a few moments before letting it go to dry.

____ once again stands beside you as Hoseok continues to work on the bouquet. She curiously observes what you’re doing and comments, “Did you come up with this idea?”

You nod. “Yeah, I thought of creating something special for him. After all, it’s our first Valentine’s together as newlyweds.”

Not a minute later, Hoseok already calls for his fiancé from the wrapping table on the other side of the room. “Babe, can you please help me with these?”

____ gives him a glance. “You’re just making excuses to be near me. You usually have everything under control.”

Hoseok wails in vain. “Pleaseee. Usually, I’d have Jungkook helping me. But ever since he’s gotten so busy with his new job, I haven’t been able to find another part-timer. So, I thought you’re helping me today.”

Failing to stifle a smile, ____ mutters a quiet ‘he’s so needy’ and then moves to help whatever Hoseok requires.

You chuckle hearing their banter. Just listening or watching them has always strangely brought warmth inside you. They treat you as their younger sibling, or even their child at times, but you can’t bring yourself to be annoyed at the treatment. Not when you know how they genuinely care about you.

Despite not tying the knot yet, they are the ones who made you believe that soulmates (or at least something really close to it) exist. And you hoped it’ll be the same for you and Taehyung.

Taehyung prides himself in many things—running his billion-dollar worth corporation, doing art, and gaming. He’d like to say that there are still many hidden capabilities that he has yet to discover. However, in the recent light of events, he is close to admitting that talent in the kitchen is a definite no.

“No! What are you doing?!” Jungkook gapes at the smashed apple in Taehyung’s hold, its juices dripping down onto the counter. “You’re making a mess, hyung! And you aren’t supposed to cut like that! Are you trying to commit a murder?”

“I thought this is how you cut it open...” The man in question mumbles, staring glumly at his work.

“No,” Jungkook groans. “You do it like this.” He slices the apple in half easily.

Right. Another aspect that Taehyung seems to lack is the ability to follow or listen to instructions. His primary instinct is either to go with the flow or dive right into whatever he’s facing. Hence, it’s still a work-in-progress since following others is just not his forte—

—except you. Your lilting accent whenever you speak, or even subtle actions, Taehyung follows you easily. One of your little habits—taking deep breaths whenever your emotions are getting the best of you—Taehyung has picked up that so effortlessly.

Like how currently, he’s taking a deep breath to not let his rising frustration get the best of him.

“Like this?” Taehyung attempts the way Jungkook cuts the apple—cutting it in half, aligning with the stem and core, then trying to slice it thinly.

Jungkook nods, observing Taehyung. Jimin, on the other hand, stifles his laughter as he assembles the apple slices on the pastry sheets. The blatant impatience in Jungkook’s face grows more and more apparent at Taehyung’s skill—or, rather lack thereof—in dealing with a knife. “Okay, I think it’s better if I do the rest of it,” Jungkook takes the cutting board, and the apples left. “You can help Jimin hyung do the pastries—shit!”

One of the apple pieces—a chunk, to be precise—rolls off the plate and falls onto the ground. Jungkook’s eyes widen in horror as a fluff of black and brown fur zooms past his legs and picks up the fallen apple as quick as lightning.

“Yeontan, no!”

So, while Yeontan munches happily on his newly-attained snack and a string of curses escapes Jungkook’s lips, Taehyung snatches the cutting board back. He resumes slicing the apples slowly. He’s a man with determination, after all. He’d like to be the reason his wife’s eyes light up with glee as she tastes the apple roses pastries he put his heart into.

Jungkook fusses in the background, “Can dogs eat apples?”

Jimin, now, can barely contain his laughter at the unfurling of the whole scene. “Well… I think so.”

“You think so?” Jungkook groans, quickly fetching his phone from the living room. He furiously types on his phone and googles: can dogs eat apples. “I will not be responsible if Yeontan falls ill and— Oh, thank goodness.” He lets out a relieved sigh. “It makes healthy snacks for them instead.”

“Yeah, it does,” Taehyung replies nonchalantly. “I usually let him have a piece or two without the seeds.”

Jungkook grumbles. “Why didn’t you answer me in the first place then? I panicked—”

“Cuz it’s fun to watch your reaction,” Taehyung and Jimin said in unison.

“And it serves you right...” Taehyung adds, mumbling.

“Screw you guys. I’m not helping with this anymore.” Jungkook crosses his arms, pouting.

“This is for my wife, you know,” Taehyung reminds him, “And remember how my wife is close to Hoseok’s fiance—”

Jungkook picks up the knife in record time.

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

You stare at the finished snow globe in satisfaction, capping back the glycerin and distilled water bottle tightly. Then after you’re confident that everything’s all settled and cleaned up, you tilt the globe a few times to make sure the content is all set and doesn’t spill.

The cherry blossom tree stands tall as tiny leaf-like cutouts of pastel pink cascade through the liquid in slow motion, like real falling cherry blossoms.

“Wow, it’s so pretty,” ____ comments after she helped Hoseok with the bouquet.

You grin at her compliment before placing the snow globe in an empty black gift box. “I hope Tae will love this.”

“He sure will,” ____ muses, watching you tie the gift box. “You know he’ll love anything you give him. And—”

“Babe, can you help me get some ribbons?” Hoseok asks from the wrapping table across the room.

“Sure,” ____ chuckles, grabbing a basket of colourful ribbons under the counter and handing it to Hoseok.

“Can you help me tape around the edges?” Hoseok lifts the bouquet of flowers, gaze pointing at the bulk of stems. ____ complies, following his instructions before wrapping it with cotton paper.

You stand up from your seat and move closer to the couple. At the sight of the assembled flowers, you gape, “Now, that’s pretty.”

“I’m glad you like it,” He chuckles, tying the wrapped bouquet with a ribbon. “And we’re done!” He hands you the bouquet.

Taking a closer look at the vibrant hues of red, pink, and white, you stare in awe. “I love it!”

After bidding Hoseok and ____ goodbye, you step out of the shop with the bouquet and gift box in hand. Taehyung’s chauffeur opens the door to the car, and you climb in quickly to avoid the cold weather.

“Where would you like to go, Mrs. Kim?” The chauffeur asks as he drives.

“The bakery please. It’s a few blocks away from here.”

You hum to yourself a soft, happy tune. Just imagining how your husband would react has your heart fluttering and giddy. Wondering what he’s up to, you take out your phone from your coat and press on his number.

The familiar ring buzzes a few times until he answers. “Hey, baby.”

“Hey,” you smile. “What are you up to?”

“Hmm? Uh, nothing?” He answers, then you hear the sound of clanking and familiar whispers in the background.

“Tae… What are you doing?”

He hums. “Well, I thought I should clean up the penthouse before our dinner tonight.”

“Oh,” you giggle. “Did you really call Jimin and Jungkook to help clean up our place?”

Taehyung mutters a curse under his breath. “W-Well, they are willing to help. So, why not?”

“Usually, you’d call the usual cleaning services. Plus, isn’t Jimin’s bakery busy today?”

“Unfortunately, not this time, sweetheart. I’ve prepared some things tonight and I don’t want people nosing around.” Taehyung explains. “And Jimin says his girlfriend got it under control.”

You let out an amused chuckle. “Alright then.” Glancing out the car window, the pastel pink store is nearing. “I need to go now. See you tonight, baby.”

“See you soon, my love.”

The smile never leaves Taehyung’s face as he puts his phone back into his pocket and walks back to the kitchen. Jungkook is still cutting apples while Jimin cracks some eggs into a bowl.

“Was that Y/N?” Jimin spares a brief glance as he whisks the eggs.

Taehyung nods. “She asked what I was doing.”

“Nothing at all…” Jungkook mutters under his breath, arranging the sliced apples on a plate and putting them in the microwave.

“I heard that,” Taehyung narrows his stare at the younger one. “So… How are things between you and her, Kookie?”

Jungkook falters. “Uh, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Ah, yes, do you know I just met her in my meeting a few days ago?” A teasing smirk curls up on Taehyung’s lips as Jungkook pouts, still arranging the second batch of apples.

“Don’t fight you guys.” Jimin groans. “We’re not even halfway done with this!”

Taehyung opens his mouth to complain, and Jimin cuts him off. “So, you’re going to prepare the muffin tray—” Jimin instructs Taehyung. “Then Jungkook is going to help me with the pastries.”

“Can I help with the pastries instead?” Taehyung watches Jimin pouring cinnamon and sugar into another bowl. “Jungkook can prep the muffin trays.”

“Are you up for it?” Jimin raises a brow. Taehyung nods enthusiastically.

“Alright. But make sure to follow how I do it.”

Taehyung smiles giddily and stands beside his friend. He follows every action Jimin does: brushing egg wash on the pastry, sprinkling cinnamon and sugar on the dough, arranging the apples, and rolling it into a tart.

“So, how’s things so far with Goldilocks?” Taehyung questions once he gets the hang of arranging the pastries.

Jimin lets out a sheepish chuckle. “That’s her pet goldfish’s name, you know.”

Jungkook places the muffin tray after he preps it. “And she made me carry the whole tank back home…” Jungkook grumbles, recalling the past event.

Taehyung shrugs. “Then Ms. Shooting Star.”

Jimin fights back a blush on his cheeks at the mention of that. “I’m beginning to regret telling you all that.”

Taehyung wiggles his eyebrows with a teasing smirk.

“We’re both really busy these days, and we said to take things slow since her parents are a bit complicated, but nothing I couldn’t handle.”

Jungkook chuckles, “Says the one who had a mental breakdown right before Christmas dinner.

Jimin glares at the younger one. “Look who’s talking. I wonder if you’d ever grow the balls to admit your feelings for She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named.”

“I don’t have feelings for her.” Jungkook mutters, looking away.

Taehyung nods. “Well, then. That’s good to know. One of my business partners was asking about her the other day. I thought I’d introduce them. “

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Great, now you’re playing cupid?”

“Not yet. But I got one in mind who’s very interested in her…”

“Please, don’t.” Jungkook whispers, gritting his teeth.

“What was that?” Taehyung asks with an open hand behind his ear.

“Don’t…”

“What?”

“Please, for fuck’s sake. Don’t introduce any of your friends to her beyond business interest.”

Silence.

Jungkook blinks before he rambles, “I mean it’s going to be creepy if someone that’s fifty years older hits on her—”

“Oh, no. I can guarantee he’s not that old. In fact, he’s still a bachelor. Maybe a few years older than us. And—” Taehyung recalls, rolling the last apple rose pastry and placing it on the muffin tray. “—come to think of it, she did ask me about him once...” Taehyung trails, noticing Jungkook’s blank expression at the information. “Oops, I think I wasn’t supposed to say that.”

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

“They all look so good,” you mutter, scouring through the vast chocolate choices under the display glass.

[Name] shoots you a smile. “Take all the time you need. The cafe isn’t open today, so it’s not that busy here.”

You glance around the bakery briefly. “I can tell… No wonder Jimin is with Taehyung right now.”

“Mhmm…” [Name] nods; she leans forward on the glass display, chin resting against one palm.

“Are you okay spending time here alone…?”

She shrugs. “I was promised a date in the winter market tonight. So, I don’t mind—” The sudden ringtone of her phone cuts her off. “Wait, gimme a sec—” You nod as she picks up her phone. “Mochi?”

A chuckle escapes your lips at the cute nickname.

“No, I can’t go there right now. It’s still too early to close up.” She glances at the wall clock. “Huh? What do you mean Jungkook left?” Your gaze shifts up from the sweet displays to her worried expression. “Oh, okay.” She drums her fingers on the counter. “I’ll talk to him if he goes here. Bye— yes, love you too.” She presses the disconnect button.

“Is everything okay?” You ask curiously.

She responds with a nod. “You know the usual, Taehyung and Jimin teases Jungkook too much and now, he’s gone off to blow some steam.”

“To where—” The door to the bakery slams open, and there a huffy Jungkook appears.

“That was fast,” [Name] sniggers at her best friend.

“Not in the mood,” Jungkook pouts, sitting on the closest table to the cashier counter.

“They giving you a hard time?” [Name] places a steaming mug of hot chocolate on his table and tilts her head slightly.

Jungkook huffs once more, sipping the drink carefully. Honestly, he doesn’t even know what got him so worked up. He’s used to all his hyungs’ teasing, but...

“Tell me about it,” [Name] places a steaming mug of hot chocolate on his table. “After I helped Y/N with her chocolate.”

Jungkook blinks, now realising that you’re standing awkwardly in front of the glass displays. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Hi, Jungkook,” you greet him back and turn to look at the desserts again. “And uh, I’ll take this and this…” You point out all the chocolate you’d like, earning a nod from [Name].

As soon as she’s done packing the chocolate box, you bid them farewell and exit the bakery with your heart fluttering in anticipation and excitement.

The peaceful atmosphere in the kitchen ceases the moment Taehyung’s phone dings when a text notification appears. Taehyung—who was busy admiring his final work on the muffin tray—takes a glimpse of his phone’s screen on the counter. “Oh no.”

Jimin takes the muffin tray off the counter and sets it in the oven. “What?”

“Jungkook just texted me that Y/N is coming back now.”

“Huh?” Jimin’s eyes widen. “But the pastries aren’t done yet!”

Another ding resounds through Taehyung’s phone.

Jungkook: Good luck tryna hide the pastries :P

“He can be annoying if he wants to...” Taehyung mutters under this breath at Jungkook’s retaliation.

“Well, we did hit a nerve by talking about her...” Jimin sighs, crossing his arms.

Taehyung snorts. “The kid needs to get it sorted out as quickly as possible. He sometimes just needs a push.”

“He still needs time,” Jimin counters, shaking his head. “Not all people have it easy in admitting their feelings.”

Taehyung mulls for a minute and nods in understanding. “I guess I shouldn’t push him too hard. But for now, I should find a way to distract Y/N,” Taehyung searches for your contact. “How long do you think we need?”

Jimin mentally calculates the time. “Like forty minutes to an hour?”

“Okay,” Taehyung clicks on your number. He clears his throat once you pick up the phone, “Y/N? Hey, baby, I might need help picking up something...”

“Oh, sure. What is it?”

“I need your help to pick up a cooking book I’ve been searching for…”

“...Cooking? Since when you’re interested in—”

“Look, I’ve been trying to find a new hobby and I thought why not cooking? Jimin recommended me to try it.” Taehyung blabbers, his heart beating fast. “And it’ll be fun if we do it together, right?”

“Okay.” The amusement in your tone lights up his face into a shy smile. “Send me which book you’re looking for and I’ll check with ____ if she has it. Just hope she and Hobi haven’t gone out for their date yet.”

“Thanks, love. I owe you one.”

He can hear the smile on your voice as you respond, “I only accept payment in kisses and cuddles.”

Taehyung chuckles fondly. “Consider it done.” Once you end the call, Taehyung checks the pastries in the oven, mumbling, “I hope that would keep her busy for a while.”

Jimin nods. “The first batch is almost done. But the second one—an hour should be enough...” He trails, voice filled with uncertainty.

“It has to be enough.” Taehyung picks up the dirty bowls and dumps it in the kitchen sink. “It should be...”

Jimin helps clean up the counter, even ensuring that there isn’t a trace of flour on the floor before he checks his phone briefly and pockets it back in his jeans. He moves near the oven—hands covered by the oven mitts—and tentatively takes out the first batch of apple roses pastries from the top rack and puts it on the counter.

“Let it cool off for a while and then you can hide it in the fridge or a container. Oh, and how will you plan to arrange the—”

Taehyung rinses off the remaining utensils—taking his washing gloves off—and rummages through the cabinets, taking out a heart-shaped platter.

With an unamused expression, Jimin blinks a few times. “You just have all kinds of things in your kitchen, do you?”

Taehyung shrugs. “Y/N came across it the other day and thought it was pretty. She didn’t buy it, so I bought it instead.”

A flabbergasted laugh escapes Jimin’s lips as he shakes his head. “Well, I better get going now. I don’t want to be late for my date tonight.”

“Thanks for your help, man. Couldn’t have done it without you.”

“That’s what friends are for, yeah?” Jimin walks out to the front door and wears his coat before giving Taehyung a farewell hug. “And you should apologise to Jungkook too. He’s probably still having his pity-party in my bakery.”

Taehyung nods, opening the door. “I will.”

After Jimin left, Taehyung goes back to the kitchen. He puts one leg and the other over the pet barrier he set to prevent Yeontan from stealing any more fallen ingredients. Said dog is whimpering in front of the kitchen doorway until the front door clicks. Then he hears the familiar footsteps of his wife.

So, of course, things aren’t going according to Taehyung’s plan today.

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

After retrieving Taehyung’s desired cookbook, you arrive in the lobby. You stop by the receptionist desk to hide the gifts and tell them to bring it up to the penthouse at your call around seven in the evening.

The moment you step through the door, the sweet smell of cinnamon fills the air. Taking off your boots and coat, you call out for your husband. “Tae? You in here?” You head towards the kitchen to find it barricaded by Yeontan’s fence barrier. “What the—” You lift one leg over the barricade, and your other leg follows. You stride to the refrigerator to get a drink, only to find it blocked.

When you glance down, there your husband lays—his long legs blocking the fridge—with a strained smile on his face, looking absolutely winded. “You’re back.”

“My goodness, what happened here?” You crouch, helping him sit up. “Did the cleaning go wrong?”

Taehyung shakes his head, leaning against the refrigerator. “Everything’s well. Just… Resting… For a while.”

“Are you okay?” You tilt your head. “I’m gonna get you some water—”

Your husband stops you, leaning in to give you a peck on the lips. “Hi.”

An involuntary shy smile appears on your face. “Hi there, do you mind scooting? I want to get a drink.”

He shakes his head again, winding his arms around you. “It’s okay... I’m— I’ll take it for you.”

“Hmm? But you can barely even move, Tae…” You reach out, moving a stray hair from his handsome face.

“I can…” he pouts, grasping your hand on his hair to kiss your palm. “Just give me a minute.”

With a teasing smile on your face, you reach for the refrigerator handle again and attempt to open it when your husband stands up.

He’s definitely hiding something, but luckily he’s cute. “Alright…” You muse, watching his attempt to keep you from opening the fridge. But you suppose you’ll comply with his conspicuous actions. “I’ll wait in the living room.”

After you head out of the kitchen, Taehyung opens the fridge—releases a breath as he takes out a water bottle—and closes it again. He goes out to the living room, finding you giggling as Yeontan playfully licks your face on the couch. The sight brings warmth inside Taehyung’s heart as he strides closer and sits beside you, handing you your water.

“Thanks.” You let Yeontan down from the couch before taking the water bottle. While you drink your fill, Taehyung lays his head on your lap, letting out a contented sigh as you weave your fingers through his dark locks. “What time is dinner again?”

“Seven.”

Capping the water bottle, you glance at the wall clock in front of you. “So… Two more hours. I gotta get ready.”

“Hmm…?” Taehyung opens his eyes. “But we’re celebrating here...”

You let out a quiet laugh. “You said you want to reenact our first date.”

Your husband blinks once, then realisation falls upon him as he groans in embarrassment, sitting up. “You’re actually considering it?”

“Why not? It’s a cute idea,” you giggle. “It’s only between us both.”

Facing you, he questions, “It’s not too cheesy or anything?” Uncertainty is evident in his gaze.

“Of course not.” You grin, encircling your arms around him. “I love that idea actually.”

He lets out a sheepish chuckle. “Then I’ll see you in two hours?” Taehyung bites his bottom lip—a habit when he’s nervous—but he still holds your stare. “I’ll use the guest bathroom to freshen up. So, you get the bathroom all to yourself.”

“Oh? We can share as usual—”

“But that won’t fully reenact our first date, you know, before we’re living together—” He rambles, eyes darting everywhere, but you. You, on the other hand, fail to stifle a smile at his flustered state. Nodding in understanding, you stand up. Taehyung grasps your wrist, causing you to turn to him. “No kisses for me?”

You lean down, levelling your face with his, with a teasing smirk. “I don’t kiss on the first date, handsome.”

“You know what, on second thought—”

“See you later, baby.” Escaping his clutches, you go straight to your bedroom for your “first” date with your husband.

Taehyung has never been this nervous before, well, ever since your wedding day—the moment you walked down the aisle with a beautiful smile on your face that he needed to pull himself together before he turns into a sobbing mess and—

Okay, the point is, Taehyung has presented business plans, his company’s valuation, and other significant matters in front of hundreds or even thousands of people. He managed to stay calm and collected in every presentation—full of confidence as he moved across the stage with ease.

But when it comes to you? He wonders where did all that confidence go. And you’re just one person. The one person who he had promised to cherish and love, and—

He lets out a deep breath, staring at himself in the guest bathroom mirror. In a deep burgundy suit, he does a once-over at his appearance before the sound of the doorbell rings. He rushes out and ushers the staff, who brings a decorated table in along with the surprises he prepared.

A few minutes later, when all is set, he knocks on your bedroom door, straightening his suit jacket in nervousness.

The moment the door swings open, Taehyung’s throat goes dry as he gapes at you, adorning the same black dress you wore on your first date. Your eyes momentarily grow wide as well at his choice of outfit—the same one he used on the first date—before bursting into a giggle. “Wow, we do think alike…”

Snapping out of his trance, he nods. “And you still look breathtaking as ever.”

“Stop stroking my ego.” You move closer to him, looping your arm through his as he leads you to the living room.

“You know I can’t help myself,” Taehyung chuckles.

A gasp escapes your lips as soon as you see what has been prepared. The whole room is lit up by candles—some real, some fake—yet, there are no other words than to describe it as beautiful. The couch and coffee table has been set aside, and in the middle of the living room, a candlelit table stands with meals for two prepared on it. Your gaze falls on the bouquet of roses Taehyung has in hand.

“It’s beautiful,” you mutter in awe.

Taehyung grins. “A hundred and forty-three roses for the love of my life.”

You gape, taking the bouquet into your arms. “A hundred forty-three?”

“It means ‘I love you’.” His gaze is full of emotions. “I don’t know if I’ll ever live up to be the man of your dreams. But I can continue—” He takes your hand in his. “—to love you even more as we spend our lives together.”

Silence.

Your gaze is glassy and unreadable. Then you blink your eyes rapidly, looking up at the ceiling. “Damn it, Tae. I’m using makeup.”

“Huh?”

Placing down the bouquet on the coffee table, you reach out for the tissue, dabbing your eyes carefully before fanning your hands.

“Oh no, don’t cry—”

“It’s your fault for making such a speech. You know how emotional I get when you do that.” You dab your eyes more as Taehyung wraps his arms around your waist from behind.

“Oh sweetheart,” Taehyung coos as you face him. You stare into his loving gaze for a few moments before you clear your throat. However, as if on cue, the doorbell rings. Taehyung furrowed his brows. “Expecting someone?”

“Wait here.” Pulling away from his hold, you rush to the door. The moment you return to the living room with presents in hand, Taehyung gapes as you hand him the bouquet and gift box.

“What is this?” He observes the gift box curiously, then admires the flowers. “It’s beautiful.”

You sit on the couch, patting the space beside you. Taehyung follows suit, placing the bouquet on the coffee table before untying the gift box’s black ribbon before his breath hitches in his throat.

With trembling hands, he lifts up the snow globe carefully. “It’s… Isn’t this where we met?”

You nod. “Just so you know, I couldn’t wish for a better person to be with,” you start. “I think some part of me has always known that you’d be the man of my dreams. Ever since you spilled strawberry juice on my shirt.”

It takes him a few moments to process your words as his eyes shift from the snow globe to you; a chuckle passes his lips. “First, that was an accident. And do you… really mean that?”

Taking his free hand on yours, you lace your fingers together. “I married you, didn’t I?” Your wedding rings gleam softly, reflecting the light of the burning candles in the room.

“Made me the happiest man alive.” He recalls the memories of falling cherry blossoms, spilled strawberry juice and frantic apologies-turned-laughter. A soft smile appears on your face after putting the snow globe back on its box. He turns to you. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

You raise a brow at him. “What’s stopping you?”

“You don’t kiss on first dates.”

“Well…” You lean closer to him. “I think I can make an exception for the man of my dreams.”

Taehyung exhales, “Thank heavens.” He cups your face gently, clearing the remaining distance between the both of you. No matter how many times you kiss, it never fails to send his heart beating a tad faster or put a smile on his face. In other words, Taehyung is head over heels in love with you.

After a few moments, you pull away, and he chases after you, but you place a pointer finger on his lips. “Dinner first,” you remind him.

He sighs in defeat, lips turning into a pout and nodded. Once you both finish dinner, you lean back on your chair, patting your stomach. “That was a nice meal.”

“I have one more surprise for you.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, “What is it?” With a secretive grin, Taehyung stands from his seat and makes a beeline to the kitchen. You can hear the fridge opening and closing before your husband walks out of the kitchen with a—

“Isn’t that the platter I saw a few days ago?”

Excitement is written on his face at your realisation, placing the platter in front of you. You let out a gasp at the sight of the neatly-arranged apple rose pastries.

“I made it myself,” Taehyung beams. “Jimin and Jungkook came to help a bit.”

“A bit?” You tease, shooting him a glance before setting your gaze back on the pastries. “These look almost too pretty to eat.”

Taehyung drags his seat to your side and plops down. Anticipation is apparent in his eyes as he watches you pick up a pastry and bites into it. Another gasp escapes your throat at the burst of sweetness spreading across your tastebuds. You stare at him in shock as you chew.

“So?” He waits for your response. “How does it taste?”

“It’s...” You swallow the remaining pastry in your mouth down. “Really good.” Taehyung’s eyes twinkle at your compliment. “I’m… Wow,” you breathe out, utterly speechless. “So, this is why you wanted to start cooking?”

He blinks, with realisation dawning upon him, then he scratches the back of his neck in embarrassment. “Actually… That was to keep you distracted for a while. I wasn’t done baking the pastries yet.”

Snorting, you lift another pastry in front of your husband’s mouth; he bites and chews for a few seconds. And stops.

You furrow your brows at his odd reaction. “What’s wrong?”

“Shit—” Taehyung rushes to the guest bathroom without another word. Placing the half-bitten pastry on the empty plate, you follow suit and find your husband retching on the toilet bowl. Once he’s done, he reaches for a mouthwash. “I think—” He gargles the mouthwash then spit into the sink. “—that one is still undercooked.”

“Oh, no. I’m sorry. I didn’t know—” you ramble, watching Taehyung wipe his mouth with a paper towel, then washes his hands.

He cradles your face with his dried hands. “It’s my fault. I didn’t check if all the pastries are fully baked. I’m sorry.”

“You okay, now?” Your voice sounds uncertain, hands covering his bigger ones.

He nods reassuringly. “It’s not that bad. Maybe I was over-exaggerating— oof.” You poke his stomach in retaliation as he giggles.

“You had me worried.”

“And you’re still a worrywart.” He rubs his nose on yours affectionately. “My adorable worrywart.”

Your gaze falls on his drenched shirt (and luckily, he already discarded his burgundy suit). “Your shirt is ruined now.”

“Hmm...? Oh, dear,” he feigns worry, leaning on the marble sink—his palms on your hips. “Now, what do we do? Do you wanna—” You roll your eyes at the teasing glint in his eyes. Knowing what he’s up to, your fingers unbutton his shirt, leaving him flustered at your sudden movement. “W-Wait—!”

You pull the collar of his half-unbuttoned shirt, leaning forward to have his face so close to yours. Both your lips just millimetres away from each other. Voice dropping into a lilting whisper, you purr, “Let me make it easier for you today, yeah?”

Shivers run down Taehyung’s spine at your familiar words. “Is this payback because of this morning?” You shrug and finish unbuttoning his shirt. His lean chest on display to your eyes now. “Or is this just an excuse to get me naked?”

A teasing smirk curls up on your lips. “A bit of both.” Then you wrap your arms around his neck, closing the distance between you—lips claiming his own.

Humming in approval, Taehyung winds his arms around your waist. Fire ignites inside you as you pull away briefly. Your husband turns you around, settling you on the marble counter of the sink while he stands between your legs.

Your dress hikes up to your thighs, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not when the man of your dreams drags his luscious lips across your jaw and trails down your neck. Your breath hitches when he kisses your sweet spot; fisting his opened shirt by the shoulder as he rains kisses on your collar bones, nipping on it.

“Tae—” You breathe out as he hums in response, tugging the zipper on the back of your dress down. “—kiss me, please.”

And he complies, claiming your lips.

Tangling your fingers through his hair, you let out a sigh as he trails downward once more, scraping the skin of your throat with his teeth. Tugging the straps of your dress off your shoulders and letting them pool on your waist, he lets out, “You’re gorgeous.” He places a kiss on the juncture between your neck and shoulder. A soft whimper emits from your throat. “So damn gorgeous. And all mine.”

Tracing his jaw—half-lidded gaze staring at him—you whisper, “Why don’t we take this somewhere else more comfortable?”

Almost instantly, he lifts you up in his arms—your legs winding around his waist, arms around his neck—heads out of the bathroom and lays you gently on the bed. You discard your dress as it falls in a heap of silk on the rug. Then you tug off Taehyung’s shirt as he climbs on top of you.

“You’re spoiling me so much today. Thank you,” You mutter, holding your husband’s face in your hands.

“Thank you, my love. What I did today, it’s the least I can do,” He stares back at you with so much love, leaning down to kiss you softly. “After all, I’d do anything to make you smile.”

You chuckle at that, poking his nose. “I love you.”

He holds one hand of yours and kisses your palm. “And I love you.”

The remaining articles of clothing find themselves in a heap on the floor as your husband reminds you of your wedding night—making love to you into the late hours of the night.

EPILOGUE

“Don’t go…” he mumbles sleepily, keeping his arms around your naked waist.

“Tae, let me go, I just need a drink—” you wriggle in his hold to break free. “—my throat is really dry—” And your husband has the nerve to chuckle at your words. He lets out a pained groan as you poke his stomach (maybe a bit too hard), and finally, he lets you loose.

Climbing off the bed, you pick up his shirt and don it quickly. However, the moment you step out of the bedroom, an unpleasant smell wafts through your nostrils, and when you reach the living room, you gape in horror.

“Yeontan!” You shriek at the sight as the said perpetrator waddles towards you with his round innocent eyes.

Your husband emerges—bare-chested and in his boxers—out of the bedroom at your alarming shriek. Once he sees the scattered dog waste across the marble floor, he mutters, “I think we ignored him for too long.”

author’s note: i’ve decided to add another character (YAYYY CEO!taehyung) in the same universe as baker!jimin, florist!hobi and ???!jungkook (feel free to guess what he’d be 😙)!! thank you for reading and as always feedbacks are appreciated !!

396 notes · View notes

gyuluster · 4 years ago

Text

the prince and the jackal | {f}

collab oneshot | fantasy! au | 11.8k words

“Because the prince of the earth can make you fall not only for nature, but the boy who rules over it.”

s u m m a r y : in the Kingdom of Terrae, you, a metalbender, believe in the deforestation to modernise the land. As a member of the Lumberjackals, you thrive on cutting down trees and stealing resources until you get caught by the Crown Prince, Choi Beomgyu, a lover and embodiment of the nature you wish to destroy. However, instead of imprisoning you for your crimes, Beomgyu decides to show you the beauty and wonders of nature, leaving you to doubt your beliefs, your identity, and your very feelings for the certain boy determined to change you for the better.

w a r n i n g s : prince! beomgyu, woodcutter! metalbender! reader, reader hates wildlife and all things nature, beomgyu is sunshine and flowers and everything good, shit ton of wildlife and fantasy stuff, bts kim line are part of the lumberjackals so are evil in this story i am so sorry y’all, beomgyu has a pet squirrel called jisung yes han jisung, kind of enemies to lovers not really but im pretending it is

p l a y l i s t : fairy of shampoo by txt | colours of the wind by judy kuhn | willow by taylor swift

a u t h o r ‘ s n o t e : yes i am back from the dead to bring this fic hello!! this is a collab with @soobmint @juunnies @bffsoobin @honeyju pls do read their parts too they’re so sexc <3 do lemme know what you all think and thank you for reading!!

back to collab masterlist

back to my masterlist

“And this prayer I make, Knowing that Nature never did betray The heart that loved her.” — William Wordsworth, Tintern Abbey, 1798.

“ONE MORE BLOODY TREE, AND I’LL SCREAM THIS FOREST DOWN!”

You ignored the complaints of your comrades, trekking deeper into the forest.

The sun was nearly drowned out by the towering shade of the surrounding trees, and there remained a constant buzz of the animals, either scurrying away or chirping in the skies. The cut up logs strapped on your back was a huge burden, and slowed your steps as you trudged onto the muddied pathways, staining your boots.

“_____, how much longer until we go to the markets?” one of the men asked, exhaustion clear in his voice.

“Just a few more logs, Tae,” one of the woodcutters, Seokjin, answered, casting a side-ways glance at you.

“But we’ve already got so many!” the former whined, pointing to the goods over their shoulders. “We can make decent money today!”

Unsheathing your sword, you cut away at the vines in your path, masking your sight ahead. It must be here somewhere, you thought, eyes darting sharply to every flower and bush. It has to be.

“Haven’t you fools understood already?” a snarl resonated from the group. Your horse trotted past you as Namjoon, sat on top, brought out his machete, brutally slicing the branches of the towering trees. “The wood we’ve got won’t last us all year!”

His eyes blazed with a certain greed as he looked over you all. “We must find the Tree of Life,” he declared, strolling past you, cutting down the path. “One strip of its bark could bring us a fortune.”

You listened to his statements with raised brows, following in his steps. In truth, none of you had ever seen the Tree of Life. No one in the kingdom had for centuries — it had become something of a myth, a legend passed down from every earthbender to child of its origins, and its significance. You didn’t know the great specifics, but the whole group knew that if they were to obtain even a twig from the great tree, it could grant them millions worth of gold.

And that was something the Lumberjackals desired more than the wellbeing of an omnipotent tree.

Soon, the search progressed, your group cutting down a few Ebonies for its useful properties, but there was no heavenly legend welcoming you in all its finery. The sun was descending on the horizon, and although Spring was present, you were situated in the part of the forest where the gusts of the Ice Kingdom blew consistently in your direction. The cold was about to descend, and you were far from your home in the Metallum villages.

Taehyung, the youngest of the Kim brothers, held onto a nearby oak, all strength leaving him. “I don’t know about you, but I am not travelling any further.” He glared daggers at Namjoon, who showed no signs of stopping. “I’m setting camp here, and you can do nothing to stop me.”

Seokjin joined his youngest sibling, collapsing on the patch of grass beside the gathering of flowers as he shrugged off his work of the logs. “I vote a little rest, even if Joon does not understand its meaning.”

The said-man let out a scoff at those words. “You both are just bloody lazy!” He turned to you, eyes pinning you where you stood. “You’ll keep searching with me, right?”

You agreed, but when you saw the fatigue in your leader’s gaze you grabbed the reins from his horse, stepping beside him. “You need sleep, Joon,” you said, concern in your eyes. “I’ll do another search. You three stay here.”

Namjoon held your stare for a moment before swiping his leg over the back of the horse, jumping off. He handed you the reins fully. “Come back after dawn. Us three will take over from you.”

You had a right mind to challenge the amount of time he was making you explore, but you kept your mouth shut, heaving onto the animal. Dumping your logs of wood upon the ground, you dipped your head in farewell to the Kim brothers. “I will see you in the morning, boys.”

Taehyung waving excitedly as he set up camp, Seokjin going straight to bed upon his blankets, and Namjoon’s stare cold yet understanding, you cracked the reins as the horse began to gallop away from the oaklands, and deeper into the forest.

The moon barely lit the way as you delved deeper into the trees, the sounds of nature turning sinister as the owls began to hauntingly hoot, and the wildcats began to purr. You kept your sword close, in your hand as the other steadied your horse.

You let out a hard sigh as you commenced your searching. Sometimes, only when you were alone, you wished that Namjoon would snap out of his delusions. There was no Tree of Life, no invaluable source of fortune which would challenge the earthbenders and start their industrialisation. In truth, you only wished for a life more than just cutting down wood, but your leader’s promises could be much too enticing.

Perhaps he was right. Maybe with the metalisation of Regna Terrae the metalbenders would be able to progress. It was not like the Kingdom cared for the likes of you, nor the nature which brought you to existence.

Stupid, damned forest. What good had it ever done you?

Suddenly, you heard the harsh snapping of the twigs which wasn’t from your horse. In an instant you halted, pulling the reins as your eyes darted to every corner of the dark forest.

Silence.

You furrowed your brows.

The forest cannot be trusted. Even its silences were sinister and misleading.

Slowly, you got off your horse, tying the reins to a nearby tree. “Keep still, Aurum,” you whispered. “I’ll be right back.”

Patting the mane, you turned and followed in the direction of where the sound was heard, every step quiet and cautious. There was little light, you having to rely on your ears alone, and the hands which touched trunk from trunk. In moments like these, you wished you possessed a more useful power than mere metal manipulation — firebending would have been nice, but you supposed that luck had never been in your favour.

Seething, you held onto your sword tighter, sending a little rush of power from your fingers as it sharpened the steel. No one tailing you would survive in your hands.

You then heard a little sigh, and whipped your head to the direction. Gritting your teeth, you rushed to the place of the origins, anger rising. Swiping away the branches in your path, your boots were the only sound among the quiet hush of the forest, along with the slicing of your weapon. Whoever was toying with you will not leave your wrath.

Swiping away the plants, you finally found an opening of grass among the trees. Squinting, your anger surged to find a distant figure standing before you, all masked in shadows from the lack of light within your surroundings. It stood statue-still, matching your deathly quietness.

But the figure did not seem like it offered death. Nor anything so dangerous as you promised.

“Come out!” you shouted, taking a step forward. “I know you were following me!”

No response.

“Scared, are you?!” Another hesitant step. “As you should be!”

Still, only silence answered, and the soft crunch of the leaves underneath your boots. You took a deep breath, shining your sword from the moonlight. A scoff emitted from you, nerves disappearing. This should be easy.

With an aggravated roar, swinging your weapon, you thundered towards the figure.

You rushed into the moonlight pooling onto the grass, eyes intent with damage as you willed iron-like power from your veins, and into your hands, swirling around the fuller of your sword until it reached its tip, ready to burst onto the figure.

It was then the shadows moved.

A flick of his hand. A soft glow within the darkness.

And all of nature followed suit.

You were taken aback as the thousands of vines circulating the surrounding trees unwrapped themselves from their trunks, and snapped towards you in thundering speed. You had no time to take in their stems swirling around your feet, cutting off your run towards this certain figure. A gasp escaping, you were pulled back by the impact, and let out a further scream as you began to fall flat on your face. Then, even more shock reverberated through you as your feet were pulled upwards, shooting your body up until you were suspended from a tree branch, your one foot wrapped tightly in the vines.

Your world all upside down, you shook your head vigorously, feeling the strain of your one leg under complete control of the tree. The thrum of powerful magic of nature resonated through your body, ceasing you from moving your free leg and kicking any potential passerbys.

Craning your head backwards, you saw with horror that your sword was clattered upon the ground, too far away to reach from the air. Straining your hand towards the grass, you willed your magnetic force, trying to lure your weapon into your hand.

The sword would have ended up in your grasp if another surge of the same natural magic did not break its path, sending it back on the earth.

Enraged, you looked out to the dark, sight distorted. “Gods, just come out already!” you screamed, swinging slightly by your sheer force. “Stop hiding in the damned shadows!”

There was a flutter of little animals coming out from the shadows. “Ha!” you spat, reaching for the dark. “Only sending a few creatures to scare me? You’re going to have to work harder than that!”

When there was another round of silence, you laughed harshly to yourself. “That’s what I thought.”

This time, however, you were not greeted by their usual, quiet answer.

More vines slithered down your frame, pushing your hands together. You gritted your teeth as the gnarly weeds tightened around your wrists, stopping yourself from using your hands.

Glaring daggers at the darkness ahead, you spat at the ground. “Show yourself!” you roared.

Your threats were answered.

Responded in an unimaginable way as the figure stepped into the moonlight.

You could not suppress your reaction.

The most enchanting boy you had ever seen revealed himself from the shadows. You could clearly see him from the light, the soft, child-like features amplified by his undoubted beauty — his mahogany locks curled around his face, cascading over his forehead. His gentle eyes promised great amusement, more so when they landed upon you, a ghost of a smile lingering on his lips. He was adorned in a fine green gown, few assortments strapped on his belt as leather boots, etched in ink, covered his feet. A crown of flowers and leaves settled in his curls, emitting its own, fantastical glow among the darkness.

The smile curved wider at your widened eyes. “Why so speechless now, my lady?”

By all the gods. Even his voice sounded like the sweetest honey in all the hives.

“I have come before you, now,” he continued, deeply amused by your bewilderment. “I have stopped hiding in those damned shadows, as you said.

“Where is your anger?”

Well, that seemed to bring your rage all back.

“It’s still here, you bastard!” you hissed, struggling in the rope-like vines as you tried to swipe your hand across his face. He merely took a step back, completely out of your range.

“Even without a weapon you are a force to be reckoned with,” the mysterious boy voiced out, raising his fingers as magic sparked from the tips. Instantly the vines encircled your arms, pinning them to your sides as the weeds wrapped around you completely. You were like a human-sized caterpillar, cocooned in vines except you would not turn into a butterfly and rush away into the forest.

This nuisance before you would make sure of that.

A satisfied hum escaped him. “There we go,” he said. “Now you won’t be of any danger.”

“Who even are you?” you demanded, glaring daggers at the sight before you. Terrible shame that the sight was something you wouldn’t mind witnessing for the rest of your life. Even if it was upside down.

A hint of surprise exposed upon his features. “Oh, this is amusing, indeed.”

He took a step towards you, you catching the faint scent of...flowers and trees and fruit and honey. You couldn’t really figure out a perfect essence — if nature had a scent, then this boy embodied it. “I am surprised you know not of me when you wish to destroy what I own.”

You raised a brow, at eye level with him, despite the loopy image.

Then, the gears in your head turned, and you were struck hard with the realisation.

When you wish to destroy what I own.

“Oh gods,” you slipped out.

The boy smiled.

No, not just the boy.

The Prince of Regna Terrae — the heir to the Earth Kingdom.

Choi Beomgyu.

Maybe this explained his otherworldly beauty. Crown princes of the earth kingdoms were known to be blessed by nature, so adorned the finest features known to man. Standing before you now, you cursed yourself for not seeing it before.

And cursed yourself again for cursing at him. Multiple times.

Beomgyu saw your eyes moving a mile a second and spluttered out a soft laugh, raising a finger so you focused on him. “I am glad you have figured out my identity. Now we both know what we are.”

His next words did not possess much hilarity. “I, a prince, and you, a Lumberjackal.”

The declaration had you gulping. There’s no escaping this.

He was not wrong in the slightest — you were a part of the Lumberjackals — a group dedicated to industrialising the Earth Kingdom, and giving it a head start from the other kingdoms who did not possess the natural resources that this land contained. You prided on deforestation, the cutting of wood and, even to a certain extent, the consumption of animals. Although you never participated in the last activity out of pure shame, you knew the Kim brothers certainly did, and enjoyed it to great extent.

“Do you deny it?”

You tried to look away, but his gaze was a little too intense. Even if it was reversed. “I do not.”

“And what do you have to say for yourself?” he got out, and you could hear the pain in his voice. Could you even blame him? You destroyed what he held so dear.

Still. You were a metalbender. The desire for modernisation is in your very blood.

“I do what I must do, your Highness,” you grit out, struggling in your weedy cocoon. “It is the only way we survive.

“And I will not stop.”

The boy’s eyes widened a fraction, in pure disbelief. He could not comprehend this — how could one be so against the idea of nature? How could anyone be so resolute in the decimation of what they survived on?

Prince Beomgyu cocked his head, pursing his lips.

How could one hate a deity he considered so beautiful?

He said so himself.

“How?”

You blinked.

The boy continued. “How can you hate nature?”

His question took you by surprise — you did not really know the answer yourself.

It was not like you despised the earth in all its natural form. Sure, it brought you the air you breathed, the food you ate, and the water you drank. But what else had nature given you?

You soured upon seeing the Prince’s face. You did not possess the powers other Terrae citizens were gifted with. Your branch of magic was hard, unforgiving. Simply a practicality, only useful for finding resources and making weapons.

Where were your subservient vines? Where was your natural greatness?

With this in mind, you mustered up the most brutal expression you could offer to the boy before you.

“Because nature was not kind to the likes of me. So I shall not be kind to it either.”

This time, the Prince’s eyes widened even further, afraid they would pop right out of their sockets.

Once again, his mind was in a twist — how had his dearest accomplice, his most cherished friend, been unforgiving to his subjects? He would never consider himself sheltered, but this was something quite unheard of in his kingdom.

“I know you do not believe me, but this is the only explanation I can offer.” You paused, accepting your fate. “Untie me already so you can send me to prison.”

You felt something swirl beneath the boy’s brown eyes, irises sparkling with wonderment. His voice was soft, if not lost within his own thoughts.

“I believe you, jackal,” he said. With a final step towards you, he left little distance between the two of you, eyes at level with yours as you hung from the tree. “But I cannot be satisfied with it.”

Another blink, taken aback by his declaration. “Well...well, what am I supposed to do about it?”

Shocking you further, he curled a little smile upon his lips. “Well,” he started, and as the smile began to widen further, he knew just what to do.

No, he was certainly not satisfied with her accepted hatred.

“We can start by changing that.”

It was your turn for your pupils to dilate. Gods above. This boy seems one chop away from a stump.

“What do you mean?” you demanded, but the boy was already turning on his heel, looking to the surroundings. He fell to his knees, feeling the ground beneath him with his hands. “Your Highness, what are you doing?!”

He did not deem to answer your question, only counter it with his own. “Do you have a horse nearby?”

You looked at him, surprised he figured it out by merely touching the grass. “Yes, but…”

It seemed that he did not need to hear any more, as he brought a hand out, fingers stretching. A tendril of green power burst from his palm, snaking through the dark air beyond your peripheral vision. The Prince was focused on his conjury, and you wondered what in Terrae he was trying to do.

Then, you heard a distant neighing, and found Aurum following the green trail of his magic, eyes glowing slightly.

You tried to escape the tight cage of the vines. “Gods, what are you doing with my horse?!” you exclaimed. “She hates strangers!”

The magic disappeared, along with the glow in her eyes. You could tell she was confused at her surroundings, about to raise her hind legs at the boy who spelled her. “She’ll kill you!” you warned, bracing yourself to witness the death of a prince.

It was then Beomgyu stepped towards the horse, gaze sparkling with kindness.

His hand touched Aurum’s face.

With no small amount of shock, you watched as the boy whispered to your horse, stroking her muzzle. You had never seen her be so friendly to any human she’s made contact with — by Terrae, she even deigned to show attitude to you, who had fed and groomed her since she was a mere pony. How was she sweetening up to someone she had just seen?

Maybe she’s still under a spell, you thought with malice, but then a more honest thought came to mind, and it only made you angrier.

Or perhaps animals can be just as enchanted with him as humans can.

“What are you talking to her for?” you interrupted them, letting out an aggravated groan as the cocoon engulfed you tighter. “You’re sharing words with her as if she’d spread them!”

Beomgyu slid his eyes upward to you. “I was just asking Aurum if she’d like to have an apple.”

“No, I’ll give her one myself—” you tried to say, but then stopped short. “Wait. How do you know her name?”

He looked at you as if you had asked the most ridiculous question. “Because she just told me.”

You stopped struggling in the cocoon. “What did you just say? Aurum told you?”

Hands never ceasing his comforting upon the horse, he raised a quizzical brow. “Pardon me, jackal, but do you mean to tell me that you...you cannot talk to animals?”

Maybe you were not wrong to think the heir of the Earth Kingdom absolutely crazy.

He gestured to the world around you both. “Can you not sense each and every creature nearby? Can you not hear their heartbeats, in sync to their purrs and murmurs?

“Can you not hear the very trees breathe around you?”

You did not know what to say. Perhaps you did not understand his words, what he really meant by a tree breathing. Was that even possible? You thought it unimaginable.

So you offered him the only thing that remained in your mind.

“I have never felt these things.”

The hand upon Aurum’s nuzzle paused, unable to accept the statement which you offered him.

His suspicions were confirmed. Your hatred of nature and all the beings which it birthed had rid you of your powers.

He had seen this before — lost souls who had done grave wrongdoings to the earth, and as a consequence, their very instincts were snatched, right down to the basics. There was no shortage of Lumberjackals in the palace dungeons, and upon closer inspection, he saw that these woodcutters felt no connection to their surroundings. It broke his heart seeing the lack of attachment, the lack of desire for exploration and yearning for their powers, but he knew it could not be helped.

Whoever crosses nature would not be forgiven.

Still, when he inspected the confused, tired gaze of yours, searching him for any suspected lunacy, he just knew that he could not toss you in another old cell. This plan he had in mind could not occur through rotting in one place for the rest of your life.

“Worry not then, jackal.” He raised his hand, magic blooming from his palm. “I am going to change that.”

Whispering to your horse, he listened for a soft neigh before heaving atop her back, hissing at the reins and other controls tying her down. You watched with slight fear. “W-wait a minute,” you started, trying to squeeze out of the vines, but with no luck. “You’re not going to just leave me here, are you?”

Patting Aurum’s mane, he voiced out calmly, “I wish with my whole heart, but then my plan will not work.”

You pursed your lips, watching his eyes sparkle with mischief. “If you were not a prince, I would have cursed you.”

With a flick of his hand, a rush of magic travelled to your cocoon; you felt yourself turning on your front, hovering you upright as the power gravitated you back on the ground, loosening the vines.

“Not like that has stopped you before,” he merely countered as he observed you shrug off weeds in slight humiliation. “Now get on. We have somewhere to be.”

He waited a moment, sighing when you would not oblige. “Is something the matter?”

You wanted to say yes — gods, you wanted to scream at him to get off Aurum, leave you alone and let you cut trees in peace, but of course, that would be an impossible route to take. You still had no inkling of why the Prince of your kingdom was having mercy on you, and you would be quite the fool to exploit it foolishly.

With gritted teeth, you kept your complaints behind your tongue as you brought your foot on the stirrup, heaving upwards as you brought your leg to the other side, settling upon the horse. “Now,” Beomgyu began, looking over his shoulder. “There is no need to be shy. You may put your hands around me as the horse goes fast—”

“I shall be completely fine, thank you,” you interrupted him, brows furrowed. What was this prince even doing? You wondered whether he was a fraud. With that power you witnessed, though, you highly doubted it.

And his features. There is no way a commoner could possess such enchanting beauty.

Flustered, you soured even further.

“Are you ready, jackal?”

You grunted out a yes, which was enough for the boy to command Aurum to start.

The horse, against your expectation, began galloping much faster, and with a yelp you were nearly sent flying out of the seat. Your hands, on instinct, wrapped around Beomgyu’s waist, and when you realised what you had done you cursed yourself for obliging him.

You could almost hear his grin. “I told you!” he exclaimed over the noise of hooves clattering against the rocky mud.

If only you could slap the heirs of kingdoms. “Just take me where you have in mind!” you barked back. “I need to be back to Metallum at dawn.”

“That will be just enough!”

The horse swept past more trees, animals scurrying from your path as the moon lit the dim forest path. You held onto the prince for dear life, refusing to acknowledge the hard surface beneath his silk, his ethereal warmth radiating onto you.

“Hey, jackal?”

A sigh. “Yes?”

“Your horse’s name.” A pause. “Aurum.”

You looked to the trees whooshing past your vision. “What of it?”

Beomgyu whispered for the animal to slow down, scanning his surroundings for his destination. “’Gold’. A very ingenious name.”

He glanced at your irritated face, and smiled. “My mare is called Argenti.”

Your mouth parted at the little revelation.

Argenti. Silver.

Before you could say more on the matter, the boy stopped the horse, cooing at her and praising her for helping him. Swinging his leg over, he jumped off the horse gracefully. He fixed his flower crown before turning to face you, falling rather awkwardly on the grass.

A small laugh escaping him, you daggered him with your gaze as you stepped beside him, a hand on Aurum. Your stare lingered as he took a circle turn of the surroundings, moon almost winking at him as it journeyed in the blanket of night. After a while, Beomgyu pointed to the tree nearby you, stepping past you to palm its trunk. “Here we go.”

Fingers stretching, magic spluttered as it swirled into the thick expanse of the leaves, nearly covering the sky with their excess. The matter squeezed through, and brought out the hidden vines, tumbling down till they reached the roots. Grabbing onto the plants, the prince turned his head towards you, an offer in his eyes.

You hated how you understood exactly what he meant. “I am not going up with you,” you retorted.

“It’s my arms or the dungeon.”

Gulping, you swallowed down your irritation for him. Taking a step towards him, you maintained a safe distance as you made sure he was aware of your distaste. “Just get us up already.” Damn the gods for making him so aggravatingly beautiful, you thought shamelessly as you looked at him. “Your Highness.”

Perhaps he knew, for the little smile was back, wrapping his arm around your waist, and pulling you close. “That’s more like it,” he murmured out before willing his magic into motion.

Your breathing hitched as you were pulled rapidly upward by the vines, breaking through the surface of the leaves. You closed your eyes, feeling the scraping of the branches against your clothes until you felt yourself still, listening only to the deep breaths of the prince beside you. His hand was still snaked at your side.

“Open your eyes, jackal.”

Somehow, on instinct, you obliged.

And widened them further.

You were in another world entirely — the branches expanded beyond your vision, intertwining with the others from different trees, so intricately interlinked beneath your feet that they created a floor. Upon this branching surface there was a little room, decorated with every unusual object that one could identify. Beside the bed, interwoven by these branches, you saw an abundance of flowers and leaves, an lamp of glowing fireflies resting in the corner, and a thousand other items which needed further explanation.

Judging by the awe on your face, the boy answered you, heading to the small cabinet where everything was placed. “A collection of gadgets,” he began, using his magic to separate every object. “That I’ve bought or been gifted since my princedom.” He took out a few unrecognisable things and strolled to the wardrobe, made from the same intertwining branches, and opened the doors, rummaging through.

“What are you even looking for?” you asked, but were dutifully ignored as he kept searching. You admired the intricate scenery, the plush excess of leaves beneath your shoes, shielding you and the prince nearby.

You heard him let out a satisfied ah! as he closed the doors shut. He walked over to you, showing you the rather odd object — it was an unusually large ice cube, miniscule snowflakes etched onto its every side as it orbited slowly in Beomgyu’s hand.

Your curious gaze upon the gadget had him into explanation. “A present from the Ice Prince,” he said, admiring the cold gift in his palms. “It provides an infinite water supply, so is incredibly useful for long journeys.”

“Taehyun, is he not called?” You shivered at the thought. “I am shocked to think he is capable of such small kindnesses.”

Beomgyu slid his eyes to yours. “Taehyun is not the man that his subjects have painted him to be.” His irises swirled in an indecipherable emotion. “Sometimes, one cannot judge the character of another simply based on rumour alone. Only with having conversation can one truly have an honest opinion.”

A small part of you wondered if he truly meant that for Taehyun, or to you, another villain in the Earth Kingdom’s millennia-old tale. Whatever it may be, you looked away, wondering when you’d be able to leave the prince’s presence.

“Right,” you heard him say, pocketing the other unknown object in his breast pocket of his gown. “Let us go on ground once more.”

The boy was about to tug on the vines again when he was interrupted by a most unusual sound.

Well, not unusual, considering you were situated in a tree house, but the noise was so shrill you instantly looked down to its origin.

Before you was a little squirrel, cheeks puffed as its little hands perched on its sides. Its soft tail moved rapidly behind its body, indicating irritation.

Its small, black eyes were fixated upon the boy beside you. Letting out yet another squeak, you saw Beomgyu sigh out in exasperation, as if he had just remembered an important matter.

“Oh gods, I do apologise!” He exclaimed, falling to his knees as he held his free hand out, the other holding the hovering ice cube still. “I’m afraid I cannot feed you now, but would you be able to wait?”

The squirrel let out another squeak, and this time the prince flinched. You gawked at the scene — so not only can he command the trees, but he could talk to animals?

What can this boy not do?

“Ji, I am sorry!” Fishing out an acorn from his breast pocket, he offered it before him. “I have one, if it helps! I promise to feed you properly after I am done with a certain task.”

Even so, the animal seemed much unimpressed. It then turned its little head to you, and you could have sworn that its eyes judged your very soul.

It squeaked some more, and this time Beomgyu widened his eyes, cheeks flushing. “By Mother Nature, no!” He bellowed out, panicked eyes fleeting towards you. “No, I just met her today.”

“Are you talking about me?” You asked, raising a brow. The squirrel then made another sound, one you could not decipher but, judging from the boy’s reaction, could definitely take a wild guess. “By gods, is this creature mocking me?”

You were rewarded with further squeaking, but was instantly silenced by Beomgyu. “Ji, no! I cannot have you being sarcastic tonight. Save your grievances for tomorrow morning!”

And as the prince scooped the squirrel in his hand, he walked over to the bed, settling it on the sheets. “Stay here. I will be back.”

There was sure to be complaints, but the boy kept sending looks of apology as he stepped back to the edge of the exit, tugging on the vines. “Deeply sorry for Jisung’s behaviour,” he said, swirling the cube slowly. “He is grumpier tonight as I have not fed him this evening.”

“A pet squirrel, huh?” You interrogated, looking down to the grass below. “And one you can talk to? Is that how you could communicate with Aurum?”

Nodding, the prince held his arm out. “Are we ready?”

You hurrying my shook your head. “Not again!” You crossed your arms. “I’ll slide down myself. Without your help.”

Shrugging, the boy held on tighter to the vine. “Your wish, jackal,” he said, and jumped down. Perking up, you squatted down to see him descend smoothly down the tree, landing perfectly on the grass.

Grabbing onto the plant, you looked back to the grumpy pet, stuffing the acorn in his mouth.

He then stuck his tongue out, and you gasped at the audacity. “Rude!” You shouted, but we’re only answered with shrill squeaking. Ignoring the creature, you took the vine by both hands, and followed suit.

Your descent was much less graceful, landing instead on your backside. You were met with the huffed laughter of the prince, and you forced down the urge to beat him with his stupid flower crown. Or perhaps tie these vines around his neck and strangle him.

No, that would only result in him using his silly magic. Awful, attractive bastard.

“What are we doing now, Highness?” You wondered out loud, rubbing your sore backside. “Do tell me there is some use of your rather odd ice cube.”

Beomgyu, after strolling further into the woods, slowed himself for you to catch up. “There is some use, unfortunately for you.” He waved you over, stepping past the wild bushes in his path. “Follow me, jackal!” he called out to you.

Grudgingly, you did as he asked, hugging yourself from the cold breeze of the midnight, wondering where in Terrae he was trying to take you. The trees towered over you like intimidating strangers — if the prince spoke true, then you wouldtuly be unwelcome.

You were surrounded by this coercion until the forest opened up to an open grassland, encircled by the nature which looked down at you. Beomgyu turned to you, bringing out a few seeds from his trouser pockets and standing right in the middle of the circle.

“There you are,” he said as you stepped beside him. He glanced at the moon, measuring the amount of time he had left.

“What are you going to do?” you asked him, still clueless regarding the whole situation. Why has he not sent you to the dungeons already?

His eyes travelled to your face. With a half-soft scoff, he held out his hand, the seeds now in perfect view. “It is not what I’m going to do,” he began. “It is what you are going to do.”

The confusion grew within you. “What do you mean?” you tried to clarify. “What am I to do with these seeds?”

Beomgyu’s eyes promised answers. “Bring out your hand, jackal.”

You did as you were told, holding out your hand as he put the seeds in your palm, fingers barely brushing against your skin. He then descended, knees upon the grass as he patted to the space beside you. “Come, sit.”

Pursing your lips in thought, you knelt before the grass, seeds in your enclosed fist as your gaze never strayed from the boy. “Your Highness—”

Magic oozing from his fingers interrupted your demand, slipping into the earth. Slowly, but surely, a small hole was separated by the green matter, dirt being shovelled to create a dip in the grassland.

Once he ceased his conjuring, he jerked his head towards the new opening. “Place the seeds in the hole,” he instructed. “Gently now! Treat them with the utmost care.”

Grumbling in response, you leaned forward as you gingerly put each seed at the corners of the muddy dip, noticing a small spark with each placement of the grain. It was a bizarre feeling, but assumed it normal in the ways of gardening as you inserted the dirt over them, covering them fully.

You peered at the prince then, who brought out the large ice cube. Turning it rapidly, treacle of water dripped down to the ground, moistening the earth and feeding the seeds of its necessities. Putting the gadget back in his storage belt, he then returned his hand upon the damp mound, closing his eyes in a fixated peace. More magic swirled from his hands, but this time it encircled not only the place where you had placed the seeds, but you, all of you, engulfing you in its otherworldly warmth.

“Your Highness?” You whispered out, but he was murmuring, murmuring words you could not comprehend, words which felt like you were not meant to hear. His curls were being lifted slightly with the tendrils of his power, but he stayed rooted to his spot, carrying on with what you feared was a grotesque ritual.

You, too, became still when you felt fingers curl around your hand.

On instinct you looked at him, eyes widening — you should have expected his hand to radiate some form of heat, considering this boy had such an unusual glow about him, but this…

Despite the soft chaos around the two of you, the touch was oddly comforting.

His hand, dragging you out of your thoughts, led yours to the place you sowed the little grains of life, and spread apart your fingers till they covered nearly the entire, dug up earth. More matter escaped from his fingers, shooting further warmth upon the back of your hand, and travelling up to your heart.

“Close your eyes, jackal,” you heard him chant from his cocoon of magic. “I need you to see from within.”

“See what?!” You beseeched, but his fingers held onto you a little tighter, and, as if he commanded your very body, had your eyelids descend shut, cornering you into the chambers of your mind.

See from within.

What could you see?

Darkness. Eternal darkness, and rusted iron, spilled mercury, and all the grim faces of the people who wanted to decimate the very place you knelt in.

I cannot see! You screamed in your mind, because in the whirlwind of his power you felt alone, trapped in your own mind, trying to join in on a ritual which would cursed the likes of you.

But in reality, you were not alone.

No, not when you felt something foreign in your body.

You swore you stopped breathing.

Your fingers felt squeezed by another, but was ignored because you could see a whole other heartbeat which was not your own.

A familiar voice entered your mind.

“Do you see it?”

The prince’s voice; the soft, almost desperate inquiry, which you could not help but answer.

“Yes...yes, by Terrae, I do see it.”

And perhaps he said some more, but you were not listening to his words. His speech seemed a little insignificant to the little heartbeat — it was as faint as the scent of departure, delicate as a snowflake, and as real as yourself, the prince, and the neverending forest.

When you tried to lift your hand, Beomgyu’s fingers halted you still. You could not believe that you did not mind it. “Whose...whose is it, your Highness?”

You were positive that he did not hear you with the lack of volume you let slide from your tongue. However, he answered your question, almost feeling the joy radiating from his response.

“The seeds.”

Shocked, you opened your eyes, and found the Prince of Earth staring at you with an elevated joy. He gestured to observe your creation, and when your eyes fell upon the sliver of a stem which broke through the earth, between the spaces of your fingers, you wondered whether this was all a dream.

You could not help the curse which escaped you. The boy beside you spluttered into laughter, and you turned to see his face radiating with elation. The heartbeat, the one which you thought was under your control, proved you wrong as it skipped its beat along to his laughs.

“Wh-what are you laughing at?” You demanded, but you were unable to execute it with the anger you wish you held for him. He offered you a honeypot of smiles.

“You’ve brought life to the forest, sweet jackal.”

The little plant shivered in response, along with your own hairs at the back of your neck, which stood at his announcement. Its faint heartbeat grew louder, as well as your own in your ears.

“Do you feel it now?” he whispered, leaning ever so close as he looked to the forest around you. “Do you feel the trees breathing in your presence?”

Unfortunately, although you could sense your plant’s essence, the heartbeats of every tree in the forest were still unheard. You shook your head no, but that did not wipe the grin off his face.

“We have time,” he reassured you. “Just know that Mother Nature has hope for you still.”

He took your hand, putting another upon the back as he brought you a different kind of warmth. “I have hope for you.”

You parted your mouth, unaccustomed to the contact, the kindness...to all that he represented.

His eyes locked with yours, and although he had spared you the wrath of his palace dungeons, you feared whether you could escape the imprisonment of his gaze.

There was no doubt in your mind as you let yourself be arrested into his stare — the Prince of the Earth was not going to haunt just a single night.

FRATERNISING WITH THE HEIR OF REGNA TERRAE WOULD BE THE DEATH OF YOU.

Of course, that was not the last time you saw him — you had become something of a personal project to him, a sin which must be reversed. Almost every night after the fateful encounter, you snuck out from the fences of the Metallum villages, barely evading the suspicious eyes of the Kim brothers, and met with him under his treehouse.

You did not know why you endeavoured so ardently in seeing him. It was not like he had become any less irritable with his amused grins and unmatched power, but there was something about him which you could not fend off.

In a way, he made you believe you were worth more than simple woodcutting, selling oaks in the market, the empty promises of revenge against the Natural Kingdom.

Somehow, he made you realise that, maybe, you truly were deserving of a more memorable path.

These very thoughts accompanied you as the sun began to set, pulling your hood over your head as you swept past the familiar trees, reining in the urge to greet every woodland creature which scurried past you. The past few weeks, after many misunderstood arguments with the Prince’s pet squirrel, you learned the slight quirks which the animal possessed, his every movement and what it would signify. You had Beomgyu to thank once again, but each time you wished to do so, he would say the same, hair-rising reassurance.

“Fret not, sweet jackal. It is a pleasure to show you the wonders of nature.”

Sweet jackal. The endearment made you so flustered, and that aggravated you to the greatest extent. You had already shared your name with the boy, but he insisted on calling you this name, as if the two of you had already established an intimacy from decades before.

The very thought had your actual heartbeat racing.

You made sure to completely dismiss this foolery as you found the special opening of the grassland in sight, the glowing figure waving you over. A small smile involuntarily curled at your lips, hurrying closer till you fully saw Prince Beomgyu’s face clearly in the setting sun.

“You have arrived much earlier this evening,” he said in a way of greeting, fixing his flower crown as his squirrel played with the petals. “I would not say I’m displeased.”

On your part, you certainly were not either — he bore more finery than usual, his normal green gown threaded with gold swirls at the hems, small vines tied around his ears as natural jewellery. His hair was sprinkled with petals, a trait Jisung adored as he settled in the nest of his locks. His hands, too, were intertwined with dark vines, swirls wrapped around his fingers like extended rings.

By the gods, he truly was an exquisite being.

He noticed your silence, raising a groomed brow. “Is something the matter?” he asked, but when he saw your eyes dart to anywhere but his own, he immediately understood. You just managed to catch a satisfied quirk of his lips before he turned his attention to your plant.

Following his trail, you brightened up to see your creation in full bloom — bright red poppies, stark against the pool of grass, stood as they swayed to the evening breeze. You knelt down to observe them closer, and felt a peculiar sense of pride at sensing their clear heartbeat harmonising with yours.

“They’re my favourite flower,” the boy said behind you. “I have always adored how they stand out amongst all the others.”

Watching the poppies almost dance in the cool air, you stood upwards once again. “Then why do you not wear them?” you asked out of curiosity.

“Because my parents do not like me wearing them.” He gestured to the flower crown, at risk of being torn up by Jisung. “They say the colour is too harsh.”

He clicked his tongue in irritation. “At least they could have spared me on my birthday.”

You were about to comment on his parents when those words escaped his mouth. Your own mouth parted in surprise. “Your birthday is today?”

The prince mocked being stabbed in the chest, nearly sending the squirrel to the trees. Taking Jisung from his hair, he propped him on his shoulder. “You have truly wounded me, ____!” he whined. “All this time together, and you had no inkling?”

Although he was only jesting, it only embarrassed you further. “I truly am sorry, your Highness!” you apologised, clasping your hands together. “If I had known, I would have made you a present.”

“Oh?” He took a step towards you. His eyes danced in mirth. “And what would you have made me?”

That seemed to rob you of your speech. “Well, um…” you trailed off, searching your now useless mind of any decent idea for a gift, but he waved off your fluster, chuckling.

“It is no problem, dear jackal,” he said, looking at the red flowers once more. “Seeing your poppies in full growth is a gift to me anyway.”

You wished he had not said that; glancing at them now, you could only hear his fascination within the petals.

There he was again — staining your every entity of his remnants. How much more till he stains your very soul?

Jisung’s irritated squeak brought you back to the forest. You tried not to murder the damned creature as you muttered out, “Thank you, Your Highness.”

Beomgyu groaned out. “I shan’t have you calling me that hideous title all the time.” He put a hand to his chest. “Have we not reached first name basis?”

Despite your surprise, you offered him a scoff. “Jackal is not my first name,” you jeered. “And please. You’re the prince of our land. Anyone who catches me being informal with you will surely have my head.”

“I would never let them,” he merely said. “Not before I show you one last part of the forest.”

You quirked a quizzical brow. “I think you’ve shown me half your kingdom by now.”

“But this is...quite different.”

The boy stepped closer to you, reaching out his hand. You found yourself warming up as he enveloped it with yours, a gesture so small yet so triggering to your nerves.

“Follow me, ____.”

With the tug of his fingers, you were led out of the grasslands and back into the jungles of Regna Terrae, catching familiar sights of ancient mahoganies and birches, different variations of trees all grouped together.

As the moon began to ascend, your anxiety increased. His hand worked wonders for your skin, but at the back of your mind, you could not shake off the image of the Kim brothers wondering where you had gone so long.

Especially Namjoon. Seokjin and Taehyung may have been much simpler in the brain, but the leader of the trio bore his suspicions of your whereabouts. He always knew you were never enthusiastic of your occupation as a Lumberjackal, so your sudden interest to roam the woodlands for hours into the night certainly had his ears perking. Of course, you always made sure to know that you were going without being followed, but in the end, the three brothers were quite unpredictable.

You just hoped that whatever the prince had to show you, it would be seen quick enough to leave.

The density of the forest began to increase, and you soon began to doubt whether you had been to this part of the Kingdom before. It was then Beomgyu’s hands flowed with magic, and completely changed the scenery. The ancient trees, trunks as wide and thick as horses began to move apart to make way for him and you, the squirrel holding onto his shoulder tightly as it too squeaked in surprise. Your own eyes widened as each element of nature bent to his will, creating an easier path for his boots to step onto.

It was clearly a sight for admiration. These few weeks you had begun to realise the power of the earth, and how rich and true its roots lay. You felt the faint hum of their essences as you rushed past them, hand still clasped with his, and you dipped your head in thanks to the trees, hoping that one day you would hear them sing welcomes to you.

Slowing down, the group was barred by the curtain of thick vines, hiding you from the world behind. “I have never seen this before,” you wondered out loud, but when Beomgyu let go of your hand, and stepped forward, hands stretched out, your curiosity reigned further.

Jisung quickly scurried from his shoulder, ending up on the muddied path as he watched with black eyes of the phenomenon about to occur. You made to make fun of the squirrel when the prince let out an aggravated moan, hurling your head to his direction.

His heavenly voice chanted in a millennia old language, huge power emitting from his finger tips and swirling to the tumbling vines of the entrance. You could see the sweat beading down his forehead at the sheer effort it took, but he stayed rooted, sending surges of green matter to the cold nature.

Slowly, the curtain began to withdraw. Blinding light cut through, and when the boy let out a roar, pushing the whole family of vines apart you hid your head from the white bursting through.

There was a deathly silence for a singular moment.

You heard his ragged breathing, lasting for ten seconds before it turned into relieved, panted chuckling.

Bringing your hand away from your face, you looked to see beyond the curtain.

Your very breath was snatched from your lungs.

Before you was the most enchanting deity of nature you had ever seen in your existence — it was a glowing white tree, trunk as wide as the two of you twice over, etched with milky-coloured wrinkles that contained sparkles of ancient magic. The leaves, much like finely cut diamonds, protruded from every branch which stretched towards every corner the eye could see. The diamonds were infinite, shining from the gentle light of the moon.

Even though you had never seen it before, you knew exactly what it was.

“The Tree of Life.”

Your gaze dared to break away to see the prince for a second, whose own breathing seemed to have halted. Sensing your stare, he looked back at you, his face half glowing from the deity’s light.

“I...I thought it did not—” you tried to say, but of course you could not when it was right there before you, as if it had been waiting to be found all its life.

“Exist?” He took a step forward. “Every myth is borne from truth after all.”

Indeed it was — you had learned of the Tree of Life when you were a mere girl, listening to fairy tales before being told to sleep. This Tree could not be seen by the common man, and legend foretold that there lived an otherworldly creature inside its trunk. Evidently, no one could prove this theory, but its mystery had what inspired so many people, metal and earthbenders alike, to find it, for opposing reasons.

You knew why Namjoon wanted to find it — for the amount of gold a singular leaf could bring him. Now, having accused him of believing in fantasies, you almost felt ashamed for having ridiculed his searches.

“Come.”

You perked up at the Prince’s voice.

“You must get a closer look.”

Picking up the pace of your feet, you fell into step beside him as the two of you started towards the legend come to life. The closer you approached the more enchanting it looked — the leaves glistened further, as if greeting you with their shine.

Jisung scurried between you both, his little head never straying from the Tree. It let out an awed squeak, and Beomgyu hummed in agreement.

“Have you ever seen anything like it?”

You shook your head, transfixed. “Never,” you responded, feeling the very earth shift beneath your feet.

If nothing else convinced you of the power of nature, then the existence of this deity certainly did.

You stepped past the boy, the grass hushed beneath your feet as you stretched out your hand. When your fingers touched the milky bark your breath shuddered out of you. It was simply unreal. The touch was surprisingly soft, so unlike the normal trees, and with each crack of the bark there was ancient writing inscripted within. With further shock you felt a very distant heartbeat as the fingers ran along the words, faint yet powerful.

By the gods.

“Where have you been hiding all this time?” you whispered to the Tree, tracing the aged trunk. “Your Highness, is everything about the legend true?”

There was no response — you figured he was still star-struck, and you continued to admire the most beautiful force you had ever seen.

It was not until you heard Jisung’s shrill squeak that you turned around.

You felt your soul leave your body.

Because there he was, the one man you dreaded to see. The one man who held Beomgyu’s unconscious body in his hands as he dropped him upon the grass. You noticed the little dart on the side of his neck, and all the blood in your body was drained.

Kim Namjoon.

His answering smirk was more a flash of teeth. “Do you believe me now, ____?”

You backed up against the Tree, eyes darting to the prince. “What did you do to him?” you asked instead, voice void of any emotion.

“That does not matter,” he dismissed. “But of course, it would matter to you now that you’ve attached yourself to him.”

He took a step forward, his ebony machete glinting in the light of the phenomenon behind you. “Stand aside, girl. It is time to make our fortunes.”

On instinct, you stretched a hand out. “I cannot.”

The man was taken aback by your hesitance. “Whatever the gods do you mean?”

Gulping, you tried to steel your will, inhaling slowly. “I cannot let you do it, Namjoon.” Your eyes glanced at the still prince before glaring at the perpetrator. “You won’t get a single branch of the Tree.”

A harsh laugh escaped him, taking a step forward. “Oh, and you’re going to stop me?”

You brought out your own sword — the one which you promised to use on Beomgyu — and raised it toward him. “Do not come any further,” you warned.

It seemed the man was not not going to compromise.

Not when he swung his machete, well on his way to hack you to pieces.

You quickly brought your weapon upon you to deflect his aim, sending him forward, and away from the Tree.

He can try and hurt the Tree of Life.

Easily gaining step, Namjoon mustered his power, ebony sharpening from his fingers as he clashed against you, lightening-fast strikes of his machete having you strained. You never doubted the bastard’s swordsmanship — he was skilled enough to be a general in the King’s royal army.

A shame he chose his fighting for a darker purpose.

You tried to slice the free space of his abdomen, but the man was sharp, quickly dodging as he swerved to the side, another clash of weapons ringing around the forest.

“You cannot beat me, ____!” He roared, one hit after the other, sending you further back.

Taking every hit, you stumbled, gaining your step yet staggering once again with his sword. After all, you could not outsmart the master; he was the man who taught you to fight.

Even so, you refused to give up. “I can die trying!” You seethed as he brought his strength down. His weapon, screeching against your own, slowly descended, closer and closer to your neck.

A harsh groan escaping, you mustered all your strength into sending his machete aside, barely a spare second in your name before you whirled to your left, missing the power blow.

“All this for a bloody tree!” He screeched, thundering towards you. “We would have been rich, you fool!”

Another mighty hit, and you were sent back, averting his strikes with your sword. Because you were so exhausted, your magic would not burst from your hands, adding more power to your weapon. It was your melee strength, nearly all gone, and your nimble feet.

“What is all this for?!” He demanded, slicing at your cloak, cutting through the fabric of your trousers. The clash of weapons continued, faster and faster. “What is worth more than all the riches of the Kingdom?!”

Amidst the brawl, your eyes slipped to the figure before you. Distant, yet instantly recognisable with his eyes closed, and mouth parted, flower crown scattered around his head. Jisung, too, laid injured beside him, watching your fight with fear in his little eyes.

What is all this for?

You only had one person in mind.

But that was not enough.

No, not when that sliver of a second gave Namjoon enough time to strike you, sending his machete straight into your stomach.

A shuddered gasp escaped you as the machete entered through — a burst of pain shot through your entire body, echoing the fatality of your situation. Tears stung your eyes as you dropped your sword, looking at your opponent in the eyes.

The Leader of the Lumberjackals showed no mercy as he yanked out his weapon.

A moan rushed past your lips as you fell to your knees, gripping your blood-gushing stomach. Namjoon gazed down at you with no remorse at all. “Perhaps he was not enough,” he said, cold as metal.

He stepped past you, focusing on the glistening Tree of Life, its white treasures still exalted in the moonlight. Your body, completely spent, could not hold you upright, falling straight into the grass. Straining, you cried out as you stretched your hand out in vain efforts to stop him, but it was simply no use.

You had been defeated.

And now, after witnessing the most perfect element of nature you had ever seen, you were to watch it be decimated.

This is how it ended. You, fumbling for your last breath, your prince nearby and probably dead.

Namjoon raked his eyes over the Tree, grinning wildly. “Oh, you are going to make me the richest man in the Kingdom,” he declared, raising his machete till it hovered just before the bottom of the trunk.

He elevated his voice so you could hear. “Enjoy watching me destroy what you sacrificed yourself for!”

Closing your eyes, you were about to let oblivion take over.

You awaited the sound of his weapon against the bark.

What you heard was something completely different.

An explosion filled your ears as white light, even more blinding than the one before, had you squeezing your eyes further shut. You made out the screams of your once leader as it was drowned out by the eruption, and you tried to see what had so suddenly occurred, only to be greeted with more brazen lights.

What...what was going on?

When the deafening noise quietened, you picked up on the soft crunch of grass, edging closer and closer to you. A compelling force was felt against your dying soul, and you wondered if the Reaper had finally come to take you.

When you felt air-light hands on your abdomen, you did not expect death to be so warm.

Slowly, dragging open your eyes, you prepared yourself to be taken to the afterlife.

What you saw instead was something else entirely.

Something which made even the Tree of Life as a mediocre enchantment.

Looking over you was not human — not with the glowing, shimmering skin, sparkles and shine radiating off its golden, liquid body. Her eyes were white with the same light you had seen twice this evening, fluid locks of hair flowing all around her. Her lips offered a radiant smile, already bringing some life back into you, and her whole body, although similar to yours, was free of attire, exuding the light of a star.

Perhaps you truly were dead.

The being, however, proved you wrong with her words.

“Brave human,” she began, and her velvet voice had you clutching your stomach. “I saw what you did to defend me.”

You tried to open your mouth to tell her that you defended the Tree, but then your eyes dilated at the revelation.

The legend foretold that there lived an otherworldly creature inside its trunk.

But this...this god-like creature was not just a mere girl.

“You sacrificed yourself for my Tree,” she stated, voice echoing across the woodlands. “For my forest, my every creation, despite being an enemy of mine in the past.

“You deserve a token of my gratitude.”

Her voice nearly put you to sleep with the way it lulled in the midnight air. You wondered in your tired mind what she could offer you now that you were breathing your last breath.

Then, you felt her hands upon your stomach.

A loud groan escaped your lips as the torn flesh began to stitch on its own accord, courtesy of the magic which poured from the sublime being. Your whole body worked to heal you, reversing the damage done by your once leader, whose whereabouts you had no inkling of.

The pain, which once tore at every nerve within you, began to fade away, and you opened your eyes further after gaining the strength, fully taking in the earthly spirit which had restored you.

You parted your mouth, voice parched as you rasped out, “I...Beomgyu…”

A heavenly smile curled at her lips. “The prince is fine, soldier. It would take more than a dart to eliminate the heir of the Earth.”

A relieved breath left your lips. You then looked to the being, putting your hands above hers. “I am not who I was,” you whispered.

Mother Nature smiled down at you, and you knew then and there that perhaps the world is not so cruel after all.

“I know, brave human.”

The luminous creature ascended to her feet, letting go of your hands. She dipped her head in acknowledgment, and turned on her heel. Struggling to your side, you watched as the otherworldly figure stepped up to the Tree of Life, looking at you one last time.

Raising a hand to her chin, she blew some magic towards your way, bathing you in sparkles. With a final beam, she slipped into the tree, enlivening the whole structure till it stood straight once again.

You truly could not believe what you saw.

Feeling the glimmer dancing on your skin, however, you knew this was not a figment of your imagination.

Mother Nature saved you from death.

Truly, utterly, ethereal.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard soft coughing nearby, and you heaved upward at the sound, your strength all present.

Beomgyu.

Upon your feet, you rushed to where he lay, stumbling from the hurrying as you fell to your knees, hands clinging onto his face. Jisung, his injuries healed from the celestial visit, scurried upon his owner’s chest, waiting for him to awaken.

“Beomgyu?” You murmured out, fingers stroking the soft planes of his cheeks. “Beomgyu, damn you, open your eyes!”

Tilting his face till it faced you, you watched as the prince’s eyes fluttered open, tired and wide and absolutely beautiful.

A trembling breath gasped out of you. “What…” he grated out, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles. “What just...happened?”

You willed the tears in as you caressed his face. “The legend was true.”

His confused gaze had you continuing. “Beomgyu, I saw the celestial creature when I was dying, and she saved me. It was true, Beomgyu, she healed me with her hands and—”

Your rambling ceased when the boy brought his fingers to your face. Warmth flooded your cheeks, and not because of how hot his hands were.

His smile could have easily beaten Mother Nature’s.

“You called me Beomgyu.”

He did not let you respond as he brought your face down to his, tilting it slightly as he pressed his lips against yours, enveloping you in a sweet kiss.

His mouth was warm, just like him, soft and plush, rendering you helpless over him. Your shock was quite prevalent, but you let the affection take over as you kissed him back, hands carding in his curls. He moved against your lips as his fingers stroked down to your jaw, savouring every feathered touch.

When he broke away, his breathing was ragged, cheeks flushed. He saw your own dishevelled gaze and chuckled to himself.

“I think this might be the best birthday present I have ever received.”

The Prince of Regna Terrae laughed some more when you refused to meet his eyes.

You were about to counter him when you heard another, completely new voice.

“You both could have done that without me being here.”

Your stare dove to his chest, to the direction of the sound.

Jisung the squirrel glared at you with the entire irritation of the Kingdom. “Oh what? So now you can hear me?!”

A yelp resounded from you. “How are you talking?!” You screeched. “You’re a bloody animal!”

“Oh, thank you so very much for stating the blatantly obvious!” He drawled, and you could not comprehend the sarcasm that just came from a bloody woodland creature.

You peered at Beomgyu, who was just as surprised as you were, despite his entertained features. “____,” he started, sitting up straighter. “Does this mean—”

Getting to your feet, you looked around the forest, the Tree of Life standing proudly.

It was then you sensed the heartbeat.

Not just your own, or the poppies — but of the entirety of the Kingdom.

Faraway, yet still present, it thumped against your chest like an echo of your own heart, a harmonisation of all the trees, bushes, flowers and animals. It was almost enchanting how it slowly thudded within you, and with such welcome.

Like greeting a friend you had not seen for a long time.

When you caught the Prince’s gaze, his entire face lit up.

Before you could say anymore, you were swept into the boy’s arms, engulfing you with a hug of eternal warmth. His voice rang along your soul as he declared to the whole word.

“Nature has accepted you, ____!”

You heard the clicked tongue of Jisung beneath you, and Beomgyu brought you at arm’s length before sticking out his tongue at his pet.

He looked to you once more, and saw the very emotions you dared not let yourself believe in.

“I knew you were capable of change, sweet jackal.”

The tears, this time, refused to be held back any longer.

The boy melted as he swept away each tumbling drop with his fingers, clutching your face.

As you leaned in this time, kissing him breathlessly, you tasted the smile which flourished upon his lips, drinking in your every essence.

You wondered, thinking away as your heart beat faster, whether this was still a dream, a vision which would end the moment you woke up, back in the cold village you once called your home.

When you felt the presence of the celestial being again, looking down from the branches of the Tree of Life, you knew that this was no delusion.

Pulling away, you turned Beomgyu to the glistening, living structure, both of you catching sight of her.

Mother Nature smiled at her heirs.

The both of you knew it in your hearts, simultaneously beating.

The heirs of Regna Terrae would not let her down.

#txt imagines #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu fluff #txt fluff #choi beomgyu imagines #choi beomgyu fluff #choi beomgyu #beomgyu oneshots #txt oneshots #choi beomgyu oneshots #beomgyu soft #choi beomgyu soft #beomgyu scenarios #choi beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu x you #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x you

664 notes · View notes

yannowhatigiveup · 4 years ago

Text

T.W.A.A: The Eccedentesiast

This is a one shot I started last night and I finished it at around 2 am because I’m an insomniac. Sadly this isn’t the 10k+ word one shot I was talking about (I’m still writing it aaa) but this one is around 4-5k words long so I hope you enjoy. This is rushed, badly written, badly plotted and badly named.

TW: Dark topics such as sexual assault and suicide is mentioned in this piece of writing.

Paris, the City of Love, what a big misconception that was. If anything, Paris should've been labeled as the City of Misery considering the fact it was haunted by a villain who preyed on negative emotions. No one outside of Paris knew though, they were oblivious to the fact hundreds, thousands even millions had died in the city home to the Eiffel Tower, only to be resurrected and tormented with the memories of their death. It was worse for Marinette though, she had watched all the citizens, her beloved citizens, die before her eyes and she was powerless to help them. Their screams of anguish and cries of pain forever ghosted her nightmares. It wasn't just their blood that she drowned in, she was bullied, abused and betrayed in her civilian form by those she trusted the most.

Her classmates. She thought she could trust them but they left her for someone shinier and newer. They all hurt her, destroyed her hard work, verbally and physically bullied her. Nino and Kim, her childhood friends had turned their backs on her too, even joining the others in causing her physical and emotional pain. Alya, her best friend, had become her main abuser. The reporter stabbed the poor bluenette in the back, figuratively. Lila was the one who did it literally. Lila, the sound of the name itself made Marinette sick, after all, the brunette was the one who did this to her. She made her friends turn their backs on her, she made them abuse her and she only watched with fake crocodile tears and a smug smile when no one was looking. And Adrien, he was the worst of all. When Marinette was younger, Adrien was the embodiment of perfection. But now? All she could see was a spineless coward and a predator.

As Chat Noir, he wouldn't participate in the battles, only flirting with her hero persona. He would whine like a toddler when she rejected his advancements. Even when he did join in the battles, he was useless, ignoring anything that Ladybug would tell him and go straight for the kill which never worked. Chat Noir was incompetent and a sexual harasser. As Adrien, however, he was much more. Just two days ago, he had tried to sexually assault the young bluenette. The blonde had underestimated the girl and she managed to get away but nothing could erase her memory of the event.

The ultimatum Lila had delivered to Marinette when she thirteen seemed over-dramatic and seemingly impossible at the time. Yet three years later, she was at the point of no return. Her classmates, her friends, her teachers, the boy she once loved, her partner, her parents. They all left her. Mayor Bourgeois, fearing for his daughter's safety, had sent Chloe to New York with her mother. Luka was on tour with his father so they could build a better relationship. Kagami had a family affair back in Japan that would last for at least a month. She was truly alone. Her parents had fallen victim to Lila's lies and Marinette overheard them discussing about kicking her out. The only one by her side throughout the whole ordeal was Tikki, her beloved kwami. Even Master Fu had to leave her.

Marinette felt shut out by the rest of the world. Sure, Paris adored Ladybug but it felt different. She was fighting battles alone, she stood as the last survivor, the last protector of Paris. She took that title in stride, or that's what the Parisians thought. In reality, she was hiding behind a mask.

The bluenette had suffered endlessly for years, she was ready to break that cycle of torture. Yesterday, she came to the solid conclusion of who Hawkmoth was, who is accomplices were and what his motive was. Gabriel Agreste was the man behind Paris' torment, Nathalie Sancœr was one of his accomplices and so was Lila Rossi. For his motive, he wanted to bring his wife back. Marinette understood the pain he was in but she wouldn't go to such extreme lengths as he did. Many years ago, Marinette made a friend, one of her very best friends who she fell for. But she never told anyone who he was, where he came from or even the fact that she met someone. The reason behind this was the fact she witnessed his murder. That death, of all she witnessed, was the most heartbreaking. Even when all these years have passed, she never truly got over his death. His green eyes always lingered her mind.

The bluenette let out an anguished sigh, she was on the Eiffel Tower, admiring the city's skyline despite all its obvious flaws under close inspection. Though Marinette had drastically mentally changed, she would always put on the same mask, she would always portray herself as a regular school girl. This was the one time she felt a little peace in her chaotic excuse for a life. Her blue eyes stared off into the distance, focusing on nothing in particular when she heard footsteps coming from behind. In her peripheral vision, Marinette could see the figure of Gabriel Agreste slowly approaching. Not wanting anything to happen, she made her knowledge of her appearance known.

"I never expected to see you somewhere so public, Monsieur Agreste" Her voice remained neutral. Gabriel didn't flinch meaning that he had expected her to sense his arrival, it made the young girl slightly unnerved but she refused to show it.

"The Eiffel Tower holds the greatest inspiration, as a designer yourself I'm sure you are aware" Marinette was used to his cold voice by now, she kept her guard up reminding herself that this was Hawkmoth was standing a few feet away.

She hummed, putting the two miraculous users in a deathly silence, until she decided to break it. "You know, you could've just asked" The older man raised an eyebrow in confusion but Marinette never looked in his direction, "It would've saved a lot of bloodshed"

Gabriel managed to catch up with what she was saying. "Are you implying that I am Hawkmoth?" He didn't sound offended or defensive, merely curious.

"I'm not implying anything" She replied curtly, then turning to face him. "I am merely stating a fact"

The miraculous user turned away from her, focusing his gaze on the city's skyline once more. "What are you going to do with this knowledge?"

The question confused Marinette, surely he would've attacked her or try to get her to remain silent?

He must've noticed her confusion. "Even if you wanted to, you wouldn't say anything"

Marinette turned her full body towards the taller man, she was going to end Hawkmoth's reign as quickly as she could. "I can heal her"

"What?"

"I can heal her" The bluenette repeated. "Emilie"

Gabriel also turned to face her, his usual cold scowl was replaced with a staggered expression. "Y-you can? Even after all I've done as Hawkmoth?"

Her head twisted back to portrait that was Paris. "To end it all, yes I will"

"Then please, follow me and I promise I will give you my miraculous as well as Mayura's. Just, heal my wife please" His tone changed from intrigued to pleading, Marinette could see that he meant every word.

"Oh don't worry... I will"

~~~

"I did it!" Tim's voice echoed in the Batcave.

"Did what replacement?"

"I found Hawkmoth's identity!"

Around three months ago, Wonder Woman had noticed Green Lantern trying to delete a video. She stopped him before he successfully did the task and watched the video herself, calling a meeting to express her anger about the situation. Most were shaken since they had never seen the Amazonian this livid before. She briefly explained how her mother was once a miraculous user and how powerful these magical jewelry could be. Aqua Man also shared his concerns, revealing that the fall of Atlantis was due to the miraculous. They knew the logical decision was to work on this from outside of Paris, the villain preyed on negative emotions and they had been ignoring the Parisians' calls for help for four years. Their sudden appearance would definitely trigger the heroes. So in the last month, they had gathered files of nearly every person in Paris as well as all the necessary information about every akuma attack. It was tiring for the Bats but they trudged through it anyway.

Damian had taken a special interest in the spotted-heroine specifically, without the knowledge of any of his family members. She appeared similar to a female friend he had made quite some time ago, the one who had witnessed an assassination attempt on him. He saddened him to no end knowing that the friend he loved thought he was dead. The green-eyed boy became one hundred percent convinced that this hero was his friend.

One day, Dick had caught him in the Batcave observing a recently taken image of the Ladybug heroine. His older brother thought that Damian was crushing on the lady and began to tease him as others entered the cave.

"Tt, that's not true" the green-eyed boy retaliated.

"If you don't have a crush on Ladybug then why are you staring at an image of her?" Dick added more information necessary so that his younger brothers could join in on teasing his youngest brother.

The Robin vigilante sighed and brought everyone's attention to the screen. "See that?"

"All I see is this little lady Demon Spawn" Jason's smirk was quickly gone when he noticed Damian's serious expression.

"She's alone" he stated simply and before anyone could get a word in, her explained further. "There is usually a team with her"

Everyone seemed to lean closer to the screen.

"She's fighting alone. Her 'partner' doesn't participate in the battles anymore, he stays on the sidelines, observing" He let the others catch up to what he was saying. "The attacks have been lasting a lot longer than usual, Ladybug leads a super hero team correct? Then why is she fighting alone this time."

"They could have all been killed... We have to go to Paris to help the poor girl" Dick turned to Bruce. "Who knows how much longer she'll last alone fighting a psycho butterfly man!"

Bruce's fatherly instincts were screaming at him from merely looking at the photo. "I'll announce to the League that we'll be joining the fight in Paris"

~~~

Gabriel lead Marinette to his office, Nathalie wearily watching. Just as he was about to open the double doors, his assistant collapsed in uncontrollable coughing. Marinette was much faster than the older man so she got to the woman first. The bluenette carefully put Nathalie down on one of the chairs available while putting her hand on where she thought the assistant would where the peacock brooch. The blue-eyed girl could sense the broken miraculous' energy trapped in the woman so she did the only reasonable thing she could at that moment, she extracted the corrupted magic, healing Nathalie almost instantly. Marinette ignored Gabriel's relieved expression and gestured for him to lead her to Emilie.

"When this is over, I wish to have a restraining order against your son"

"May I ask why?"

"..."

"...I understand, I'll make sure to tell Nathalie"

The older man stopped before a painting of his wife, his fingers reached for the painted shapes and pressed on them, revealing an elevator to which he went down in. Following his motion, Marinette placed her hand on the painting and allowed herself to descend down the mansion. It lead her to a repository with a catwalk which lead to a circular platform covered in luscious greenery. In the middle on the platform was a class-covered cryogenic pod which the sleeping body of Emilie Agreste lay. The bluenette carefully made her way to the glass casket, placing her hand on the transparent material when she finally reached her destination. Focusing all her energy, a red light erupted from her finger tips and it soaked into Emilie's skin. Gabriel opened the pod, carefully watching his wife as Marinette took a step back. Suddenly her eyes fluttered open.

"G-Gabriel, what happened?"

The man didn't reply, he simply hugged the woman of his dreams before turning the the young girl.

"I... Thank you Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng, I can give you the miraculous now if-"

"Ladybug will be at the Eiffel Tower soon, I suggest you give the miraculous to her then"

Gabriel nodded and thanked the girl once more as she left. Before she reached the lift that would lead her back up to Gabriel's office, Marinette turned to face the newly reunited couple.

"Enjoy the happiness in your life, Monsieur Agreste, you never know when it may end"

She then turned to leave, not wanting to here what her former idol had to say. When she reached the main floor of the Agreste Mansion, Marinette was greeted by Nathalie. The bluenette acknowledged the assistant with a nod, meaning that Emilie was awake. The assistant let out a sigh of relief and rushed to Adrien's room, not wanting to be around the blonde boy, Marinette promptly left. Once out of the premises of the mansion, she transformed and waited for Gabriel to return the miraculous. What she didn't realise was that the Justice League would also be coming to pay her a visit.

It felt like an eternity, waiting for the miraculous to be handed back to her but the bluenette was patient. She waited four years for this moment, but she had to share the moment alone. It was bittersweet. Soon enough Gabriel arivied, hastily giving Ladybug both the brooches with apologetic eyes and leaving without a word. The spotted heroine presumed that he wanted to get back to his wife and son, she couldn't blame him. Ladybug reached for her yo-yo teary-eyed, she was going to put both miraculous in her weapon before returning them in the miracle box but she stopped when she heard multiple figures approaching where she was standing.

~~~

Batman and his sons were the ones to go to Paris and alert Ladybug of their findings. The five men found themselves in front of the Eiffel Tower, Tim found out that was were the heroes would return to after their patrol.

"We must tell Ladybug right away" Batman pulled out his grappling hook and flung himself to one of the higher levels, all but Robin followed suit.

The vigilante had a feeling to remain on a lower level. He wanted to be reunited with his long lost friend but he couldn't find the words. Simply, he used his grappling hook to bring him onto one of the beams, low enough so he couldn't be seen but high enough to hear any conversation.

"Greetings, Ladybug" His father's voice echoed through the quiet building.

"Monsieur Batman? Wh-what are you doing here?" Her voice sounded almost exactly as he remembered, of course it sounded deeper and more matured but it had a more desolated edge to it.

~~~

"We apologize for not intervening earlier but we didn't know how well we needed to control our emotions" Red Hood watched as Nightwing brushed a hand through his hair nervously.

"But we can help now!" Red Robin's excited voice came out of nowhere, Ladybug looked at the vigilante in surprise. "We found out Hawkmoth's identity so we can finish this once and-"

Ladybug put a single hand up, a small smile on her face, silencing Red Robin's rambling. "That's very considerate of you, all of you" Her gaze landed on each vigilante one at a time. "But I... have things sorted" She pulled out two brooches from behind her back to show the men before putting the miraculous in her yo-yo. "I appreciate all you've done, truly I do. But can I ask one for one more favor?"

"Of course, what is it?" Nightwing asked, clearly wanting the spotted heroine to be gleeful once more.

"Could you... help the other heroes to help the Parisians to heal?"

"It's the least we can do" Batman replied. "Will you be there too?"

"I'm afraid not" Ladybug turned around and leaned forward on the banister. "You know how Hawkmoth prays on negative emotions, so I've had to deal with my emotions in an unhealthy manor but now... Hawkmoth is no more. I can be free"

"Wh-"

"Thank you, truly" Ladybug jumped up on to railing, facing the group of vigilantes. Her sad smile faded as she stared at the floor.

They didn't even get a chance to process what was happening before it did. A bright light surrounded the young hero and they were forced to close their eyes. As the light died down, Red Hood saw a small bluenette. She looked so weak, so pretty, so... fragile. It hurt the vigilante's heart seeing someone like this being the sole protector of Paris with no one by her side.

"Hey little lady-"

"I'm sorry Tikki"

The girl looked at all the vigilantes slowly, mouthing a 'thank you' before letting herself lean backwards.

Gravity took the Parisian heroine and she fell.

A small creature holding something shiny stared in horror as its owner fell."MARINETTE!" The small creature's anguished scream seemed to bring the vigilantes back to reality.

~~~

"MARINETTE!"

Robin's head shot up, that name was all too familiar. Suddenly, he took note of a figure falling fast from above, her raven hair flowing in the wind. Without giving a second thought, he bounded down the ledge he was on, landing on one of the platforms and had his arms out ready to catch the fallen angel. The bluenette was close enough for Robin to grab her and he pulled her in so that her feet landed on the platform, her body still looming over the edge of the building. His brother and father landed not far from him, bounding over to help the bluenette but Robin took no notice of their presence.

"Why didn't you just let me f...all" The girl's voice trailed off as her eyes widened in recognition, the air in her lungs escaped from her lips. "...d-Damian?"

The two friends took no notice at how the vigilantes behind Robin stiffened. Her eyes developed a watery sheen as the situation began to really hit her. Tears threatened to spill as her lip quivered. Robin pulled her away from the ledge and she jumped into his arms, she was heavily touch-starved. Much to his family's surprise, he didn't push her away. In fact, he hugged her back. They heard what she said next.

"I... I thought you were dead, Dami"

"...why? What made you do this, Malaki?"

They didn't hear what she said next as her mumbling was muffled in Robin's chest. Nightwing walked up to the two first, kneeling down to be eye level with the girl.

"Hey Sunshine... we don't know what you've been through but we're willing to help you though it okay?" The girl looked at his sincere gaze, her eyes were so round with innocence, Nightwing thought he would melt.

"I... thank you, I'm sorry for worrying you when I... jumped" No one failed to notice when Robin ran his fingers through the bluenette's hair.

"Don't apologize Little Lady" Red Hood walked over to where Nightwing was kneeling, sitting next to his older brother. "Hawkbitch forced you to bottle up your emotions, you were just strong for too long."

Marinette looked between the two men, a grateful smile on her face while she wiped the tears of pure happiness running down her cheeks. "Thank you, I- this... this is the nicest I've been treated recently"

"If you don't mind me asking," Batman walked over and Marinette felt slightly intimidated you his presence as well as his tone. The dark knight must have noticed this since he cleared his throat and began talking in a softer manner. "What happened to cause you to go to such extremes? You're obligated to not having to talk about it right away if the subject makes you uncomfortable"

"Well I guess I do have to talk about it eventually..."

Recognising the bluenette's discomfort, Red Robin stepped in. In his palm was the shaken kwami who flew straight for Marinette once the vigilante got close enough. "Since you know Robin's identity, and we already sorta know yours, it's only fair if we tell you who we are, right?" He looked at his two older brothers and then at his adoptive father. "My name's Tim Drake nice to meet you"

Marinette was about to take his offered hand when the vigilante she presumed was Red Hood took it instead, "Jason Todd, Robin's most charming and handsome brother" She giggled at Damian's obvious annoyance.

"Well I'm Richard Grayson, Robin's favourite brother, but you can call me Dick" The vigilante in the suit who comforted her first, introduced himself.

"It's nice to meet all of you"

Batman soon came over as well to aquatint with the young heroine, offering out his hand for a handshake. "Bruce Wayne"

She returned the hand shake and brightly smiled, it blinded nearly all those near. "Thank you, Mr Wayne. Wait..." she turned to face Damian, one of her eyebrows raised. "Wayne?"

"I may have failed to mention that part" To Robin's surprise, Marinette started giggling so he huffed in taken offense.

"Sorry it's just- a girl in my class as been boasting about dating you and about the Wayne Family seeing her as their 'honorary member'. I knew she was lying I just didn't know that I would bump into the people she was lying about"

Bruce hummed. "We'll have to do something about this girl you're talking about. In the meantime, why don't you come back to the hotel with us? You and Damian can catch up" The older man saw the hesitation in her eyes but he also saw the willingness that shine through the most. "If you're living in a bad environment then you do have to escape" His sons nodded along.

"I'll come, can I bring some overnight clothes? It's been a long day..."

"Of course, you go get your belongings and you can meet us at the Grand Paris Hotel"

"I... thank you again" She transformed and headed in the direction of her house, leaving Robin at the mercy of his brothers.

"You like her, Brat" Red Robin spoke up first.

Nightwing pretended to wipe his tears. "Baby Bird's all grown up now"

"That means you can't adopt the little Pixie, don't think I haven't seen the adoption papers"

~~~

When Marinette destransformed on her balcony rooftop, she quickly went inside, packed some clothes as well as some essentials. When she was satisfied with her belongings, she gave a macaron to Tikki before heading downstairs where she was met with two disappointed looking parents.

"Is something wrong?"

"We've decided," Tom began. "We're kicking you out for what you've done to your lovely classmate, Lila"

"We don't recognise the person you've become, Marinette. You are not the daughter we raised" Sabine added

"May I pack my things in the morning?" Marinette inquired, her eyes void of emotion. When her parents nodded, she left the bakery and down to the hotel where Damian was waiting in the lobby. As she approached, he took her bag and intertwined their hands together. She blushed at the contact but leaned into his embrace.

When she entered the hotel room she was greeted by the vigilantes who were now changed and unmasked. The bluenette was welcomed with open arms, she felt the warmth in her heart for the first time since Lila's Tyranny. She briefly explained Lila's lies, what she had done to Marinette and how the bluenette was able to protect Paris. She would've carried on longer if it weren't for the hotel phone ringing. It was the receptionist, saying that someone had asked to see Marinette. Confused, she went down with Damian, Jason followed closely behind since he had grown quite attached to the little fairy. Waiting at the front desk as a woman, Damian and Jason recognised her instantly as Mayura. Damian tried to step in front of his friend but she completely ignored their futile attempts to keep her in reach.

"Ah, Hello Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng"

"Hello Nathalie, we're you the one who asked for me?"

"Yes, I just need to clarify a few things"

"Go ahead"

"You're request for the restraining order has been fulfilled" the bluenette nodded, waiting for Gabriel's assistant to continue. "May I ask what did he do to make you request for it?"

The two notices how Marinette stiffened. She contemplated before sighing. "Attempted sexual assault. If you look at the camera footage outside of the Louvre from two days ago, seven pm onwards, you'll see your evidence." Marinette turned away from Nathalie and walked back to Damian who, once in range, pulled her in for a hug.

"I'll never let him near you again, Angel"

~~~

The next day, Bruce had shown up with Marinette at her parents' bakery. Upon hearing about the young bluenette being kicked out, he had asked for her permission for him to be her Guardian until she was old enough to live in her own. Marinette accepted his offer. When they had entered the building, her parents had greeted their customers kindly before recognising Marinette. Bruce turned to the young girl next to him and smiled.

"You go pack your things I'll deal with this" She smiled and bounded upstairs, leaving Bruce to talk with the bakery's owners.

"Hello Sir, how may we help you?" Sabine began, wanting to know who this man was.

"I've come to gain guardianship of your daughter, Marinette Dupain-Cheng"

"Why should we give you guardianship?" Tom asked.

"I'm sure you know the liability for child neglect, Mr Dupain" With his words, both adults seemed to turn white. "I will file the necessary and submit it with the court, I'm sure you'll be willing to give your approval"

Both Marinette and the mystery man left, true they were glad that their mistake of a daughter had gone but they wondered who she had gone with.

~~~

Later that afternoon was a charity event which the Waynes were supposed to attend as they were invited by the mayor himself, the plus side was that the Akuma class would also be attending and they had no clue the Wayne Family would be there.

"...And finally I'd like to thank the Wayne Family for joining us this evening" Mayor Bourgeois finished his speech and all heads turned to the table the Waynes and Marinette were sitting on. As his speech was over, a teenage girl with glass and a very pale brunette came over to the table.

"Hello Mr Wayne, My name's Alya and I'm your honorary daughter's best friend and I was hoping-"

"Marinette" Bruce began, cutting off the aspiring reporter. The Alya girl only then seemed to notice that the bluenette was sitting at the table. "Is this girl you're friend?"

The bluenette took one hard look at Alya before shaking her head, "No"

"Marislut what th-"

"It would be appreciated if you did not talk about my honorary daughter and future daughter-in-law on that manner" Both Damian and Marinette turned red, one much more than the other. "In fact we should be leaving" Bruce and the rest of the family got up. "Miss Rossi, I will not tolerate your lies. You will receive a lawsuit for defamation and slander. Have a good evening" They left, leaving a reporter, a liar and a class speechless.

When they reached the hotel room they finished packing up, they would be leaving that night. Marinette made a few phone calls, telling her friends that she would be moving to Gotham. They had their belongs taken to the limo downstairs and had a few snacks before making their way down. In the lobby were many different people around the bluenette's age, she recognised them as her classmates and continued walking beside Damian until Alex came over.

"Marinette... we're sorry. We understand that you probably won't forgive apps but we wrote you letters anyway" the skater girl gave Marinette a pile of enveloped letters, ones she put in her bag straight away.

"Thank you for your apologies but I don't think I can forgive you just yet, goodbye Alix" the bluenette got in the limo and let out a breath she knew she was holding.

Her eyes glanced out the tinted window, she smiled knowing that she was leaving Paris for a better life. A better life with a friends, a better life with a new family. A better life with Damian.

~Bonus~

The harsh blizzard outside was definitely being felt from inside the manor, leaving a cold and tired Marinette on the couch. Damian, noticing his girlfriend's state, went to grab a blanket to cover both Marinette and himself. She snuggled into the green-eyed boy, taking all the warmth she could get, and slowly she drifted off to sleep. Damian too felt drowsy so soon followed his girlfriend into dreamland.

Jason came in a few moments later to find the sleeping couple, he was then reminded by how tired he was so he went on the couch and leaned his back against his youngest brother, himself too falling victim to slumber.

The next person to walk in was Dick, he had just finished training so he was exhausted. But he couldn't help to coo when he came across the scene in front of him. The eldest son then got on the sofa and carefully leaned against Marinette, similar to what Jason had done with Damian. It didn't take long for him to join them in dozing off.

Tim arrived with a big cup of freshly made coffee, one which he was about to drink until he noticed his siblings all curled up on the couch sleeping. The co-CEO went back to the kitchen, left his cup of coffee then went to grab a blanket to join his family. Wrapping himself in a blanket burrito, Tim placed himself on the floor pressed up against sofa.

When Bruce returned home safely, he went to the main living room to see his children, and his future in-law who was basically his own by now, sleeping soundly with the TV still running. Reaching for the remote, he turned the television off and grabbed his phone to take a picture. He planned on printing it out and having it framed in his study. Bruce sat on one of the armchairs, taking a book to read. If there was peace in the house, he might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

#daminette #maribat #maridami #marinette x damian #damian x marinette #damianette #mlb x dc #ml x dc #This is so bad I hate it and it started out good as well aaaaaaaa

167 notes · View notes

ppersonna · 4 years ago

Text

the sheriff - knj | m

↳ summary- you’ve always had a soft spot for Kim Namjoon, the local sheriff. seems like he’s had one for you, too.

↳ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

↳ pairing- kim namjoon x reader

↳ word count- 6.8k (THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A DRABBLE I...)

↳ genre- smut, fluff

↳ warnings- penetrative sex, oral sex (m/f receiving), cowboy dirty talk, unprotected sex, aftercare, namjoon is a whole gentleman, we love to see it, period-typical gender roles, sex in a saloon, severe overuse of the word Darlin, artistic liberties on language used in the old west lol

↳ a/n- hello! welcome to my first (not so) drabble for Bangtan Rodeo! this was requested by my angel dani @minloop who requested “ Howdy partner, Namjoon + saloon + sheriff 🤠” i hope you enjoy it love! thank you to my soulmate @mindays for the amazing banner omg i c ry every time i look at it. and thank you to @hobiance for making up this fun game, and for @mindays for beta-reading it!! i also wanna shoutout my crew @ladyartemesia @xjoonchildx @taetaewonderland @kookiesjoonies who i would never write again if it werent for their constant hype. I LOVE YOU ALLLLLL.

What had started out as a pleasant ride through town on your father’s horse, Bang, turned into an absolute nightmare.

The horse had gotten spooked by some unknown creature, and reared up high, before taking off at a break-neck pace. Your screams were drowned out by the thunderous beat of the stallion’s hooves and the wind rushing by as the horse ran erratically out of the town and into the wilderness.

“Help!” You screamed, hoping someone would hear you. Fat tears rolled down your cheeks as you clung to the reins, skirt billowing behind you.

Bang the horse reared up again in a clearing, and this time it was no match for your delicate strength. You slid off the horse and landed hard on your back with an ‘oof’ before your vision went black.

“Hey, you hear me? Little lady?”

The voice wakes you, and you blink a few times. Sitting up, you wince at the stabbing pain that radiates through your body and hiss.

“Hey now, be careful,” the gentle voice speaks again. “Don’t get up too fast. Here, lay back down.”

Something soft touches the back of your head and you realize the kind stranger must have balled up some clothing for you to rest on.

The sun is still high in the sky and your vision is slowly coming back to normal, when you focus on the face of your savior—before nearly passing out again.

It’s the town Sheriff, Kim Namjoon. The very man you’ve harbored a secret crush on for years.

You’ve watched him become a deputy and work his way up the ranks. He was a gentleman, and the bravest man in town. He battled some of the fiercest bank robbers and thieves in the county and always came back victorious. He was prime husband material.

That is, if you had ever spoken a more than a single word to him.

He’d work for your father on your ranch often, helping with mending fences or shoeing horses. He’d sit at your dinner table and graciously eat the soup, dumplings and pie you’d make special for him and thank you with a tip of his hat—then be off, back to saving the town, before you could even build up the courage to tell him ‘good evening’.

“How you feelin’?” He asks tenderly, cupping your cheek and pushing your mused hair behind your ear as best as he could.

It’s hard to speak—equal parts in pain from the fall and stunned from the beautiful man staring you down.

“H-hurts,” you whisper, licking your lips.

Namjoon’s eyes follow where your tongue trails over your chapped lips and swallows hard.

“I bet. You took quite the fall there.”

You close your eyes, remembering the terrifying moment you fell off. The horse had been so frightened, so ablaze...

Suddenly, you remember your father’s prize stallion. He had likely run off while you laid unconscious in the dirt.

“Oh, no!” Your eyes fly open. “Bang!” You try to sit up, but Namjoon shushes you and gently guides you back down.

“He’s all right, miss. He’s eating an apple, as happy as can be.”

“Oh, praise the lord,” you sigh. “Papa would tan my hide.”

Namjoon chuckles and nods.

“Brave of you to take that beast out for a ride. You think you can sit up?”

You nod, and with his strong, gorgeous hands assisting you, you sit up straight.

He offers you the waterskin in his hands. “Here, have some water. You’ll need it for that headache.”

“What headache—owww,” you groan as the sudden pounding in your head echoes the pounding of the horses’ hooves galloping out of town. Namjoon chuckles and pats down your hair—picking out dirt and leaves.

“Once you feel back to sorts, I’ll wrangle Bang up to my horse so you can ride with me, and I’ll take you home.”

The water from the skin is cool and you sigh as it coats your dry throat, eyes closing in bliss. Namjoon keeps his eyes on you for a moment, watching the way you drink. He nearly groans as a bit falls from your lips, trails your neck and down onto your pretty chest. It slips past your clothes, where his eyes can no longer follow it, and he shakes himself back to propriety.

“Thank you,” you speak as you swallow the water and hand back the skin. “I needed that.”

Namjoon nods solemnly, tucking the skin back to his holster belt before standing up.

“You stay there and rest while I get Bang tied up, alright?”

You’re hopeless to deny any request from the handsome sheriff, and you’re nodding your assent before you try to fight back on feeling better.

Instead, you watch as the tall man stands and strides over to Bang, cooing gently at the enormous beast and patting his nose for a moment to calm any lingering nerves the horse may have.

Your mind wanders and you suddenly envision a future with the sheriff—watching him tend to your horses while you cook dinner and mind the children. You imagine him herding you into your bedroom and pushing you deep into your featherbed, dripping cock aching to slide into your warmth as he whispers how much he loves you into your ear.

You’re only snapped out of your fantasy when the man of your dreams approaches once more, a bridled horse at his side as he slips the reins through his own horse’s saddle to guide him back to town.

“You all right there, little lady? You looked a little dazed.”

Your cheeks heat and you nod, quickly trying to dispel the embarrassment.

He sticks his hand out and you watch as your small hand fits in perfectly to his grip, and he tugs you up with ease; the momentum of the pull has you being pulled directly into his chest.

“T-thank you,” you murmur breathlessly. The sheriff stares down at you, eyes fixed on your own before they glance at your lips as if it’s his last wish to press his own there.

He’s silent for a moment as he holds you against his chest, then rights himself and backs away.

“You’re welcome, ma’am. Glad to help.”

Namjoon lifts you onto his own horse and your heart stutters at the feel of his hands gripping your waist. It’s warm where he touches and you wonder what his hands would feel like touching you everywhere. You imagine his hands would feel like a dying campfire on your bare skin, deceivingly scorching hot.

He saddles up behind you and wraps his arms around you, gripping the reins as he clicks his tongue at his horse to start a slow trot back towards town.

The gentle trot of the horse makes your chest heave and fall, bouncing with each step the horse takes. Namjoon glances down and can see the way your breasts jiggle and bites his tongue. You look enchanting—dirty skirt and ripped blouse from the fall. Namjoon only wishes he had been the one to dirty you and rip your clothes. His cock hardens against his will and he prays to god you don’t feel his arousal poking you in the back and prays he can get you to town before you realize and slap him into the next county.

And you definitely notice.

Your cheeks heat to hotter than the summer sun and you swallow hard to dispel some ache in your chest. Your core suddenly feels desperate for attention and you can almost imagine the way his hands would feel rubbing at your needy clit, whispering filth into your ear as he coaxed orgasm after sobbing orgasm from within you.

“Are you goin’ to the square dance tomorrow night?” Namjoon suddenly asks you, attempting to distract himself away from his rising cock.

In the chaos of your frightful ride out of town, and the bliss of being pressed up against the handsome sheriff, you had forgotten all about the annual square dance held at the town saloon. Drinks, dancing, and fiddlin’ festivities were always bound to happen.

“Oh, it must have slipped my mind,” you say. “But, I suppose I could get Papa out of the house. He has an eye on that new schoolteacher.”

Namjoon laughs, and it warms your heart. He’s taken special care of your father as much as you have ever since your mother died years ago.

“I think she has her eye on him, too.”

You hum, deep in thought of your lonely father, and Namjoon squeezes your hip with his free hand.

“Well, I hope to see you there.”

The blush returns right as Namjoon’s horse strides up to your homestead. Your father must have seen you coming and runs out of the house and down the steps to collect you.

“Oh, thank the good lord!” He breathes as he pulls you into his chest. You smile and return your father's warm embrace, suddenly feeling comforted.

“Sheriff Kim, I owe you a lifetime for rescuing my little girl.”

Namjoon smiles at you and winks, before looking back at your father and pulling his hat off tenderly.

“Just doing my duty, sir.”

Something twinges in your heart, as you’re reminded Namjoon saved you out of dedication to the badge than any memorable feelings towards you.

“Plus,” he continues. “It’s already a reward when the little lady is as pretty as this one.”

There’s that stupid blush again. Your father claps Namjoon on the shoulder and then brings the sheriff in for a hug, with a cheerful laugh.

“Now, you best be careful how you speak, son. I can’t threaten the sheriff with my .22 when he’s courtin’ my daughter.” His demeanor radiates his joking manner with Namjoon, but the sheriff’s eyes still widen like he’s a teenager again.

Your cheeks, already pink, flame red with embarrassment.

“Papa!” You admonish. “Leave Namjoon alone! He didn’t mean nothin’ by it!”

Namjoon’s smile fades back to a solemn and stoic look as he unhooks the stallion still attached to his own.

“Here you go,” he murmurs as he hands the reins to your father. “He’s just fine, too.”

Papa nods, and Namjoon replaces his hat and bows his head in acknowledgment.

“Good evening, sir,” he motions to your father. “And to you, miss. I reckon I’ll see you at the dance tomorrow.”

You nod, licking your lips again without knowing it. Namjoon begs his cock to behave, especially in front of your father.

“Thank you, Sheriff. And I reckon you will.”

He saddles up, and rides off into the sunset. Your eyes remain on his disappearing silhouette and your father fondly flicks your ear.

“That fellow likes you,” he nods at the retreating man. “And you just had to hold a candle for the goddamn sheriff.”

He ‘tsks’ jokingly, before slinging his arm around your shoulder and guiding you up towards the house.

“How the hell am I supposed to scare a boy off my daughter when he’s got more guns than me!”

You snort under your breath and lean into your father's hold.

“Oh, Papa.”

You can hear the music pouring from the saloon the moment you walk up. Papa stands next to you outside and anxiously fixes his hair.

“You think Ms. Lainey will be here tonight?” He asks. He tries not to look worried, but you can read him like a book.

Your hands smooth out his crisp, dress shirt and adjust his handsome bowtie.

“Yes, Papa. I reckon she will, lookin’ prettier than a sunflower.”

His eyes lock on yours, full of gentle emotion that you haven’t seen since your mother passed.

“You think this is fine?”

He looks concerned—worries he’s perhaps moving on too soon from your mother when she’s been gone and buried for years now. You can’t help but feel a bullet through your heart for the older man. He raised you to an adult, tended to an entire ranch, and maintained his sanity in the depths of his depression.

“Yes, Papa,” you soothe. “Mama would want you to be happy. I think Ms. Lainey is the perfect person to help you with that. Plus, I hear she makes a killer cornbread.”

Papa smiles and pinches your cheek gently.

“You’re just like your Mama,” he muses with a fond smile. “A smart ass. But a beautiful one.”

“Papa!”

“Hey,” he grins as he holds up his hands in surrender. “I’m not a liar. Now, let’s go in there and find that handsome sheriff, shall we?”

“Papa, please. Don’t embarrass me!”

“Well, too damn bad. That’s my job as your father.”

He pushes past you and through the swinging doors of the saloon.

Damn that old man.

Namjoon spies you the second you walk into the wooden saloon. You look like a princess, if he’s ever seen one.

Your blue dress hugs your curves just right and sweeps to the floor. It looks soft and Namjoon wonders what it would feel like under his fingertips. Tender, gentle, just like you.

He sets his bottle of beer down—he’s been nursing it for half an hour now, unwilling to get drunk or even tipsy tonight. Not out of some sense of duty—he had plenty of deputies around to keep the peace, but out of hope that you would come. He didn’t want to be drunk around you.

He watches as you whisper into your father’s ear and gesture towards one corner of the room. Namjoon tracks your gaze and sees you’re both looking at the new schoolteacher, Ms. Lainey who wears a pink blush that matches her pretty, pink dress. Your father kisses your cheek softly, before leaving your side and making his way towards the teacher.

Namjoon shoves the barely touched bottle of beer towards the barkeep, Jungkook.

“The hell you want me to do with it?” He asks incredulously to the sheriff.

Namjoon sends a look to his longtime friend.

“Fuck if I care, Kook. I’m busy!”

Jungkook grumbles under his breath as Namjoon turns away.

He weaves through the crowd towards you, keeping you locked in his vision. He hopes to keep you all to himself tonight, especially with you looking as ravaging as you do in that gown.

He nearly makes it to you when Jackson Wang slides in and wraps an arm around your waist. He can see your face fall when you realize who it is. Jackson is your ex-boyfriend, and a shitty one at that.

“Come on, pretty baby,” he attempts to woo. “Let me have just one dance.”

“I said I’m not interested, Jackson.”

“Oh, I know you said that, but I don’t think you meant it.”

Namjoon clears his throat from where he stands behind you. You both turn in surprise towards the officer.

“I think the lady said what she meant.”

Jackson narrows his eyes at Namjoon and grips you tighter.

“And who the hell do you think you are!”

Namjoon opens the coat of his suit, giving Jackson an eye-full of the loaded revolver clipped to his side.

Jackson seems to get the picture and shoves you off him—Namjoon is quick to steady your uneven gait from the assault.

Namjoon whistles for Jimin, his deputy, and instructs the eager young officer to escort Jackson off the premises.

“You’re lucky I’m not having him take you to the Big House tonight.”

Jackson rolls his eyes and spits on the floor at your feet.

“Fuck you, Sheriff.”

Jimin shoves Jackson out the door and follows him out to ensure the man stays well-away from the dance tonight.

Your eyes are downcast when Namjoon returns his glance at you.

“I’m so sorry,” you murmur. “I didn’t mean to cause a scene.”

The sheriff hushes you and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, just as he did before when he found you lying on the ground.

“Now, now,” he whispers as he steps closer. “I don’t want to hear none of that talk. You didn’t do nothin’.”

He slips a finger under your chin and brings your face to peer at his own. The violins change their tune from carefree to a soft ballad.

“Care to dance?” He offers.

You smile and nod after a beat of silence, taking his proffered hand and slipping your other to hold on to his firm shoulder. He looks handsome in his suit, much different from the Wranglers he wears to work. This suit is cream, and feels like fine silk under your fingertips. You wonder if he ordered it from the general store or if he rode his horse to the big city for it. It fits him like a glove and you silently thank the town tailor for his work, allowing you a tease of the man’s brilliant muscles and toned body under his clothing.

Namjoon’s hand slides around your waist—attempting to remain as proper as he can. He doesn’t want to give the town anything to gossip about, but the way your dress and waist feel underneath his palm make him nearly forget all his manners. His mother would kill him if she saw the way he continued to press in close to the woman, hoping to feel her bountiful chest press against his own.

“I’m glad you came,” Namjoon breathes as your feet move in time with his. “I was worried you weren’t gonna show.”

Your cheeks tickle a rosy hue, and Namjoon nearly melts.

“I’m sure you would have found another lucky lady to dance with.”

Namjoon hums as he spins you around, grip tightening on your waist.

“Maybe so,” he agrees. “But they wouldn’t be the girl I was hopin’ to dance with.”

Your throat feels tight.

“And who might that be?”

“The girl I’m dancing with right now.”

Something within you burns like a roaring flame, and you push forward to press your lips to his own. It stuns Namjoon; he doesn’t move until his brain finally catches up and he’s kissing you in return, deep and passionate. He pulls his hand out of yours to wrap around your waist completely, bringing you up to his chest as his tongue prods for entrance at your mouth.

You eagerly accept him, allowing his tongue purchase in the hot cavern of your lips, and you whine needily against him as you feel a bulge grow between his legs.

“Sheriff,” you whisper, pulling away from his lips.

“Namjoon,” he breathes desperately. “Please, call me Namjoon.”

“Okay, Namjoon.” He smiles and dives in to kiss you again when you pull away.

“Please, Namjoon, can we go somewhere else? Papa’s here…”

Your cheeks are red-hot and Namjoon chuckles, glancing around. Your father is busy enough as it is, dancing with the schoolteacher but he nods.

He grabs your hand and tugs you towards the bar, getting Jungkook’s attention.

“You back for that beer?” He asks with a grunt.

“Nah, gimme the key to a room upstairs.”

Jungkook eyes you standing behind the sheriff, bashful.

“Can’t even wait to get her home, now? Ain’t that the rancher’s daughter? He’s right over there! You’re really going to--”

“Jungkook! The key, please!”

The barkeep rolls his eyes as he digs under the countertop for a large skeleton key and slides it to Namjoon.

“Down the hallway, first door on the left. The presidential suite.”

He winks at the sheriff who rolls his eyes and drags you up the stairs. You pray to any god listening that your father remains distracted with the schoolteacher.

Namjoon unlocks the door and allows you to enter first, giving you a chance to glance around the spacious room. There’s a copper bathtub, a fireplace, and a large feather-bed that looks divine.

“Wow,” you whisper. “Never been in a saloon bedroom before.”

Namjoon chuckles as he sets the heavy key on the dresser, loosening his tie.

Suddenly, you’re nervous. The implications of being here have your hands trembling and body feeling flustered. You’re not the kind of girl who fools around, nor are you the kind to simply open her legs for the first handsome officer who looks her way. You hadn’t even gone all the way with Jackson when you were with him. Now that it’s happening, you wonder if you’ve gotten far too ahead of yourself.

Namjoon notices the look on your face and crosses the floor easily to cup your face between his palms.

“Hey now, why the long face?”

Your eyes peer into his, shame washing over you. You want so badly to lie with the man in bed, in every sense, but you’re terrified.

“I’ve…” you swallow hard. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

The sheriff smiles and rubs under your eyes with the pad of his thumb. It’s comforting and having him this close to you makes your body feel like you’re close to the hearth of a fireplace. Warm, soothed.

“And you don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to do, little lady. Thought we should just get out of the crowd.”

Your heart feels like it may just beat out of your chest completely. Namjoon is holding you, staring at you like you’re a treasure.

“I want you, Namjoon. I’ve wanted you my whole damn life.”

Namjoon brings his face right up to yours, lips a mere breath away.

“And I want you.”

You close the space between your lips, finally re-acquainting yourself with his taste and the feel of his plushy mouth against yours. He tastes like hops and sweet mint. Your hands slide down to claw at his sides, gripping the fabric of his coat jacket in your balled-up hands.

The kiss doesn’t remain chaste for long. You’re soon pushing off his coat, tugging down his suspenders and unbuckling his pants.

“Easy there,” he whispers as your hand tugs at his boxers. “We have all night.”

Inhaling through your nose, you nod. He’s right. There’s no reason to rush into this.

“Plus,” he adds. “It’s not very fair that I’m nearly stark naked and you’re still in this pretty little number.”

Namjoon kneels down, thick fingers untying the laces of your heeled boot, and holding your ankles stable as he slips them off your feet.

He kisses your soft ankles, presses his lips to your shins and calves as if he’s worshiping you. He thinks this is better than Sunday service, anyway.

The sheriff stands back up and his fingers move around to the back of your dress, easily finding the zipper and tugging down ever-so-softly. The fabric comes off your shoulders without issue, and soon pools at your bare feet. His eyes are soft as they travel over your body, left in only your silk panties and brassiere.

“There.” He whispers it like a prayer. “You’re so beautiful.”

The tone of his voice makes your body feel like it’s blazing—like the fire of whiskey as it pours down your throat. It burns, but it warms every single inch of you from the inside out.

“Namjoon, I don’t just want you for one night.”

Your anxieties pour out of your mouth with little thought. You wish you could hold back, just enjoy the moment. Your stomach twists and turns as he unbuttons the dress shirt and keeps his eyes locked on yours.

“That’s good,” he nods. “Because I don’t want you for one night, neither.”

Your hands slip onto his bare stomach, pushing the sleeves of his shirt off. His skin is hot, and firm. He feels like a dream. The shirt comes off easily and you gape at the artwork that is his chiseled chest.

“Oh my,” you gasp. Namjoon preens, enjoying your shameless gaze.

“All of this is for you,” he murmurs gently, watching the heated stare pull from his pecs to his eyes.

“M-me?”

He nods again and fingers the strap of your bra.

“I want you to be my girl,” he says. “I want to come home from a hard day and see my lovely little wife in our home. I’ll even get you a horse.”

You can’t help the smile that crosses your face.

“One that won’t buck me off in the middle of nowhere?”

He nods, slipping the strap down your shoulder.

“And if he does, your strong and handsome husband will be there to rescue you, every time.”

Your tongue soothes over your kiss-swollen lips as you listen to him and allow him to slowly remove your remaining articles of clothing. The bra straps fall off your arms easily and you let him work his hands around your back to undo the clasp.

“I want to make love to you every night,” he breathes. “Maybe get you nice and pregnant with my child.”

Your bra falls to the floor and his warm hands rub at your stomach, where a swell could be.

“Would you still help Papa?” You ask, hazy and dreamily.

“Every day, darlin’. I’d be the best son-in-law. Give him grandbabies to spoil rotten.”

He doesn’t say anymore—he couldn’t if he tried. Your lips are smashing against his and you’re pressing your soft, bare breasts to his firm chest and his mind is actively shutting down. All he can think of is you, your body, your hands, your mouth, and most of all, that sweet cunt. It’s still hidden behind a layer of silk, but he knows it will be the dreamiest place he’ll ever be, and one he doesn’t intend to leave often.

“Will you take me home tonight? To your home?” Your eyes are hopeful as you pull away to question him. Something about it all makes you want to make love to him all night long, in his bed. You want to wake up with him in the morning and cook together, only to get distracted and make love again on the kitchen table.

“I would love to.”

Your hands push down his pants and you’re gasping as his hard cock springs free from the slacks. It’s thick, and it slaps at his stomach once, leaving a smear of slick wetness where it hit.

“Lay down, princess,” he murmurs into your ear, tucking a piece of hair behind. It seems to be his trademark, and it sends shivers down your spine.

You obey wordlessly, laying back onto the bed and resting your head on the fluffy pillows.

Namjoon stands above you and gazes at your form, allows himself to breathe in the vision of you, nearly naked and waiting for him.

He crawls onto the bed and hovers over you, fingers trailing up your soft legs before rubbing at your clothed core. There's a patch of wetness there, and your trembling whimper tells Namjoon you’re just as eager as he is.

He settles himself in between your legs and inhales the scent of your pussy. It smells of fine silk, and of your arousal. You’re embarrassed, he can tell as your legs threaten to close, but he moves his hands to your thighs and holds them down as he licks a fat stripe up your soaked panties.

“Mmm,” he breathes. “Delicious.”

Your legs are trembling now and he flickers his eyes up to yours, gauging your reaction. Your head tips back in bliss, hands cupping your breasts.

“Do you like that, darlin’?” He asks.

Your head tips back down to stare at him, heat shining in your shimmery orbs.

“Is this okay?” He wants to know you’re just as eager as he is and has no interest in taking advantage.

You nod pathetically, legs spreading open further for him.

“I want you.”

Namjoon lets his fingers run up to the top of your panties and keeps his gaze on yours as he peels them down and off your legs. They’re drenched, and he whines when he uses two fingers to open your lips further and expose your soaked hole.

“Shit,” he grunts, tentatively kitten licking your sensitive clit.

It sends radiating static and shock through you. No one’s ever touched you there—no one but yourself on lonely nights with dreams of the handsome sheriff.

Namjoon catches your hitched breath, your shuddering sighs, and continues gently. His tongue licks tiny stripes up and down your quaking clit and enjoys the way your arousal seeps out of you. He knows you’re a virgin, knows he needs to take his time to open you up for him. And he plans on making it an experience you never forget.

“That’s right,” he breathes as he pulls away and licks his lips. “My girl doing so well. You like it when I lick your pretty clit? Does it feel good?”

You nod your agreement and open your mouth to respond, but Namjoon quickly places his lips over the sensitive nub and suckles gently. Your words turn into a throaty scream, back arching impossibly at the sensation.

He brings a hand up and teases your slit with a finger as he introduces you to a new world of sexual awakening. His tongue roves over your clit as he keeps a constant vacuum seal around it with his lips. Ever so gently, his finger prods past your folds and slips inside the wet heat of your channel.

His cock leaps at the sensation on his finger. You’re impossibly tight and drooling with juices and Namjoon’s tongue moves from your clit to lap at the slick. You taste so sweet. He can’t wait to acquaint himself with every inch of your body, especially the sweet spot here between your thighs.

“Oh! Oh, God!” You scream as your tug at your nipples. Namjoon can tell by the tightening of your channel you’re near the edge. He slides another finger in and fucks you gently with them, spreading open your heat ever so slightly so the stretch of his cock isn’t so hard to take.

“Cum for me, baby,” he coaxes. “Fall apart for your sheriff.”

Your eyes squeeze shut tight, stomach flexing hard as the band within you coils tighter and tighter until it blissfully snaps and your core is pulsating around his fingers like a grip.

Namjoon groans with your pretty cries of pleasure, watching the way your cunt milks his fingers and drools juice.

“Such a good girl,” he whispers as he gently pulls his fingers from within you. “You did so well.”

Your blush on your cheeks matches the rosy hue on your chest as you pant—attempting to bring yourself back to earth and right your breathing.

“That—, that was amazing.”

Namjoon presses one solid kiss to your thigh.

“You, my love, are amazing.”

You’re lifting yourself up on your elbows to peer down at him, whining gently for his attention.

“Will you kiss me, Namjoon?”

“I’ve got you all over my lips,” he says but you shake your head.

“Kiss me.”

Namjoon nods and crawls up your body, eagerly pressing his mouth to yours in a heated kiss. It’s intimate, and fiery as much as it is gentle and exploratory. Namjoon kisses you like he found the girl of his dreams—because he has.

After long, blissful minutes of rolling around in the bed with his lips attached to yours, you pull away and glance at his hardened cock.

“I’ve never,” you swallow as you allow your fingertips to graze the tip. “I’ve never put one in my mouth before.”

Namjoon’s sensitive glaze over his eyes returns.

“You don’t have to, darlin’.”

“But I want to. Will you let me know if I do something wrong?”

He nods once, and you adjust him to sit at the head of the bed, back against the headboard while you crawl down between his legs.

You allow yourself a few, long moments to simply stare at his length. It’s hard, flushed with excitement, and drooling a substance from his head that makes your mouth salivate. It has a soft, gentle curve to it you can only imagine will feel like heaven inside of you.

“You like it?” Namjoon asks gently, without pride. He looks sincere, like your opinion on his cock matters to him.

“I love it.”

You mouth at it gently, before opening wide to accept him in.

“C-careful, darlin’,” Namjoon warns. “It’s big—might not fit in your throat.”

Your eyes simper up at him for a moment, before you continue your plight and accept his length into your mouth.

You take it slow, torturously slow to him. You take your time to get acquainted with the feeling of his cock filling your mouth before you continue to take more and more until all at once he’s at the back of your throat and your nose is pressed to his toned abdomen.

Namjoon whines out loud, feels his brain turn to mush and his eyes roll to the back of his skull.

“Good lord,” he whispers. Your eyes are watering with tears and your gag reflex protests against the intrusion, so you quickly pull back out.

“Did I do okay?” You ask.

Namjoon’s cock throbs where it sits, right at the tip of your lips.

“You did fucking perfect, baby.”

It’s easy to see the pride flash across your face and you move to accept him all at once but he stops you.

“Don’t hurt yourself, doll. You can just move your mouth on it.” He grips the back of your head ever so gently and helps you descend, taking just enough to fill your mouth before he assists you in pulling back out. “Mmm, yeah, like that. Hollow those cheeks—shit, you’re a natural.”

You preen and bob on his length without the guidance of his hand. He drops his hands to push the hair from your face and as you work his cock in your mouth with surprising finesse. A groan builds deep in his chest and he can feel his balls tighten and threaten to empty onto your pretty lips. But, he can’t have that.

He taps your cheeks gently, forcing you to look back at him. He nearly cums from the sight alone. Your big, beautiful eyes staring into his soul as if he’s lasso’d the stars just for you. Your mouth is full of his cock like it’s your home and Namjoon knows that it’s everywhere he wants you to be.

“I wanna cum inside that sweet pussy of yours, darlin’.”

You pull off with a pop, eyes widening at the sound and Namjoon thinks you look prettiest with a dusty blush across your cheeks—a color that matches the pink of your perky nipples.

“Lay down for me, baby,” he encourages, moving from the spot on the bed and allowing you to rest your pretty head on the down pillow.

He kisses over your neck and breasts sweetly, imprinting his adoration for you with each press of his lips. He laves over your nipples gently as he situates himself between your thighs. His hand grasps his cock and lines it up at your entrance, but doesn’t push in yet. He allows your dripping slick to coat the head of his cock as he warms your body up with his lips.

“You’re the prettiest girl in town. Hell, even the whole county.”

You whimper gently as he takes a nipple into his mouth and grazes it with his teeth.

“You wanna be my girl? You wanna be the Sheriff’s little wife?”

You nod and Namjoon peers up at you, eyes expectant for a verbal answer.

"Please” you whisper. “I’ve been sweet on you since I first met you, years ago.”

The sheriff licks your nipples gently.

“My pretty wife,” he coos. “You ready?”

Your legs tremble—a mixture of nerves and excitement as the man lifts himself up and kneels between your parted folds. His cock feels thick and hot at the entrance of your heated core and you’re gasping for more.

Namjoon presses forward and takes his time as he enters you, knowing the stretch will be new for you. He leans down to kiss your lips gently as he moves in, hoping the sweetness of the embrace will soften the sting of his cock.

It feels like heaven and hell. The sting burns you, but it easily simmers down to a low flame of desire, of pleasure. Namjoon licks into your mouth and you eagerly accept him, arms wrapping around his neck to bring him closer. His tongue explores and seeks purchase—you’re loath to deny the handsome officer as you return the actions easily.

He pulls his lips away as he bottoms out inside you, panting. He needs the stillness, himself. Your cunt is so tight, so hot and accepting of his hard cock that he feels near the edge of his sanity already.

“You all right, love?” He asks, eyes checking yours for any signs of trouble.

The burn quickly ebbs away to nothing more than a slight smolder. He fills you completely, and it feels like he’s making a home for himself within you—one you’re welcome to him constructing again and again.

“Yes,” your voice is deep and husky. Your eyes are ablaze with a sudden passionate need for more. “Please, show me how it’s done, cowboy.”

Namjoon needs no more—he pulls his hips back gently and thrusts back into you with ease. You’re soaked, and the slide is tight, but slick. He moans gently as he drops his head to your ear to kiss and lick at the sensitive skin there and to whisper his sweet nothings as he sets a pace.

“You feel like heaven,” he whispers. “God, I’ve dreamed of the way you would feel underneath me.”

Your legs open even further to allow more of him and his pace eagerly picks up speed. The sound of skin slapping on skin soon fills the room and Namjoon continues his litany of love.

“Doin’ so good for me, baby, so fuckin’ good. You’re the perfect little wife for me. This cunt was meant for me, wasn’t it, my sweet?”

Speaking coherently is not a task you can handle now. Namjoon’s cock is fucking into you with a depth and speed that feels like fucking paradise and all your brain can comprehend are his sweet epithets he whispers to you and the way your core burns and sizzles with need. You can feel the tightness return in your belly, the tight coil that pulls tight, tight, tighter. You’re nearly at the end.

“I wanna fill you up, my love.” His pace is becoming erratic, with less finesse as he charges towards his own finish line. “Going to fuck a baby into you, darlin’. Get you nice and full—fuuuuck, cum for me, please. Let me feel that hot cunt cum around my cock.”

His words burn your ears with depravity, but it only forces that tight coil even further. It pulls until it nearly steals all the breath in your lungs as it throws you over the edge. Your walls pulse and constrict around him, making him whine out loud to match the crying whimpers of your climax.

“That’s my girl, oh god, I’m gonna cum.”

It’s all the warning you get before the hot stripes of his seed plaster your walls, coating each inch of you with a warmth that pools deep inside you. Your whines silence as he presses his lips to yours while his cock continues to shudder within you. He kisses you hard, deeper than you’ve ever been kissed before and you hold him so close to you, you fear you may never separate again. Not that it would be a bad thing.

“Shit,” Namjoon sighs as he finally feels his climax subside. His cock finishes its weak pulses, and he gently pulls out of your spent hole, watching his seed drool out of you.

“Mm, I think your little pussy needs to look like this every single night, don’t you?”

You peer down, leaning up on your elbows to watch as his white cum dribbles out of you and onto the feather bed.

“Yes, Sheriff.” Your smile is coy and sweet, a hint of humor in your worn out voice.

He scurries to the bathroom to get a warm, wet flannel and returns to your legs to clean you carefully. Your heart feels like it may burst. He cares for you so sweetly, wants you comfortable—wants you to feel loved.

“Take me home, cowboy,” you whisper as he presses his lips to your legs after he finishes cleaning you.

Namjoon assists you in dressing, kisses all over your bare skin as he laces you back into your dress. You both can’t stop staring at each other, eyes filled with promise and a future full of each other and no one else.

He guides you down the stairs, back towards the dance and you try to fight the blush that blooms on your cheeks. You’re sure your mused hair tells everyone in the room what you got up to upstairs, and you pray your father has left early.

Namjoon slides the key back to Jungkook once they reach the bar, his other hand tightly laced with your own. Jungkook gives you both a look, then smirks.

“Your Papa asked your whereabouts,” he muses as he dries a glass with a rag.

His smirk grows wider.

“Told him you were shining the Sheriff's gun. Looks like I was right.”

2K notes · View notes

latte-fairytaekwoon · 4 years ago

Text

𝘼𝙩𝙚𝙚𝙯: 𝘼𝙘𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙂𝙁 𝙃𝙖𝙨 𝘼 𝙆𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙎𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙚

❥𝐾𝑖𝑚 𝐻𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑗𝑜𝑜𝑛𝑔

"I know it's your job honey.....but I'm really not sure how to feel about this..... I'll support you no matter what though..."

You shook your head and held Hongjoong's hands in your own, running your thumbs across the top of his knuckles in a gentle motion.

"I know it's not easy Joong...but thanks for understanding." You smiled at him.

Pouting, he asked.

"Promise you won't fall for your co-actor?"

Chuckling you kissed his pouty lips. "Impossible when I've already fallen for you."

That comment made Hongjoong smile again....even if he was pouting once again after the showed aired and your kissing scene was trending all over. You came to visit him at the studio, food in hand for him and Eden, who had gotten used to having you around.

"Hi Y/N." He greeted you.

"Hi Eden- nim. Hongjoong?"

Hongjoong merely sat there, arms crossed as he glared at the screen in front of him.

"He's been like that all afternoon. I think you should do something." Eden decided it was his cue to leave for a couple minutes.

Tapping his shoulder, you called out to him again.

"Kim Hongjoong?"

He startled you by spinning around and facing you, suddenly blurting out:

"You're still interested in me right?"

Which caused you to burst out laughing.

❥𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝑆𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑔ℎ𝑤𝑎

Maybe if you had told Seonghwa beforehand that you were going to have a kissing scene, everything would have been better. But you were busy with filming and he had to practice endless hours for their upcoming comeback that it was difficult to even talk for 5 minutes and it completely slipped your mind.

So one day, you came home and where you were surprised to see Seonghwa standing there, arms crossed as he tapped his foot on the floor.

"Oh Hwa! Didn't expect you here." You said.

"That makes two of us who weren't expecting things." He huffed out.

You raised an eyebrow at him.

"What are you talking about?"

Seonghwa tilted his head, his voice full of passive aggressiveness as he said:

"I'm talking about this!" He held up his phone, showing a screencap of you kissing your co-star.

"I take it you're not happy?" You asked him.

Seonghwa scoffed before letting out a dry laugh.

"Oh no! Of course not! I'm totally fine with someone else exchanging saliva with my girlfriend." He replied sarcastically, holding up his phone again.

You cringed. "Stop the sarcasm. It's only cute when Yeosang does it."

"Oh! So now even Yeosang is cuter than me?!" He exclaimed.

"Park Seonghwa, stop this nonsense before I throw your lint roller in my cat's litter box."

❥𝐽𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑌𝑢𝑛ℎ𝑜

You felt Yunho shift awkwardly next to you, his hand reaching for some of the popcorn that was in between both of your bodies.

"Yunho, you know it's not necessary to watch it if you don't want." You reminded him, knowing what scene was about to come up next.

Yunho immediately plastered a smile on his face.

"No honey! It's ok. I'm your big, supporting boyfriend who will cheer you on no matter what!" Lifting his fists up, he tried to show enthusiasm, but you could tell he wasn't being genuine.

Yunho glued his eyes back on the tv, one of his legs nervously swinging back and forth. He seemed to be doing fine during the whole confession scene, but when you and yours co-star kissed, he accidentally swung to hard that he ended up hitting the coffee table in front of him. You were about to check up on him, thinking he got hurt, but he just started laughing nervously.

"I'm ok! Just a muscle spasm." He joked.

You never took your eyes off him, knowing that beneath that smile, he was feeling sad and rather insecure about you kissing someone else. You were happy he at least tried to be happy and supportive of you, but you also knew you hated to see him upset.

Sitting up, you turned off the tv and then scooted closer to him. Leaning in, you placed a soft kiss on his lips, making sure to give them one quick peck before pulling back.

"I love you my not so little pup." You giggled at him as he blushed and looked down shyly.

Yunho turned back to you before pushing you down on the couch, pressing you against his back as he wrapped his arms around you.

"I love you too Y/N. And you really did do amazing."

❥𝐾𝑎𝑛𝑔 𝑌𝑒𝑜𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑔

"Yeosang!"

Seonghwa shouted at him when he didn't answer for the 6th time.

"Huh?" He merely took a 1 second glance at the older male before gluing his eyes back on the tv.

"We can change it to something else-"

"No! I will watch it!" He exclaimed, surprising everyone at how loud he got.

"Yeosang....bro.....if you're not ok with this, it'd be better if you don't watch it." His longtime friend Wooyoung advised him.

"I'm ok! I'm totally fine! Just peachy." He picked up his boba tea and began sipping it at a rather fast pace, his eyes squinting at the tv in front of him.

The other guys looked amongst themselves, trying to decide to let him be or change it. Hongjoong ultimately told them it was Yeosang's call and therefore, they watched the rest of the drama.

When your character got kissed, Yeosang halted his sipping, eyes focused on the screen. The other guys tried not to say anything, but when the kiss got a little bit more heated, San couldn't help but let out a "ooooh" while Jongho covered his eyes and made a gagging noise.

Meanwhile Yeosang spat out the leftover liquid into his cup.

"I'm not ok! I am not ok!"

Standing up, Yeosang retreated to his bedroom, where he proceeded to crawl under the covers of his blanket and start groaning dramatically.

Getting up and following him, Wooyoung shook his head as he dialed your number.

"Ok, so your kissing scene broke him. So you better come over with some fried chicken and fix him or else I'll make you pay for making me deal with him if he's not repaired in 2 hours."

❥𝐶ℎ𝑜𝑖 𝑆𝑎𝑛

As soon as San heard rumors that you were going to have a kissing scene, he immediately called you to make sure they were lies.

"NOOOOOO!!!"

He screeched when you indeed confirm there'd be a kissing scene.

"I'm totally against this! I will not allow this to happen."

You asked the boys to keep him from coming over to the set, but unfortunately San was a cat that could easily slip unnoticed. So you were only made aware of his presence while you were in the middle of shooting your kiss scene because while you and your co-star were leaning in, you heard an extremely loud cough from behind you, which unfortunately got recorded.

"Cut!" The director yelled.

You turned around and nearly flipped out when San merely greeted you with a wave, as he simultaneously glared at your co-star. You spent about 10 minutes trying to shoot the same scene, only for it to be ruined every time due to San's antics. He'd either pretend to sneeze really loudly, push off certain props that made loud noises, even messed around with one of the ropes that sent a sand bag catapulting down the ceiling, nearly injuring your co-star.

"Oops. I just wanted to see what that lever did." He smiled innocently.

Having had enough, you grabbed him by the ear and dragged him out, all while he cried for you to stop in a high pitched voice.

"Listen here Choi San, this drama is supposed to be my big break and I will not have you ruining it for me, got it?!" You warned him.

San merely nodded with a pout.

"Please just don't enjoy it."

Rolling your eyes, you pecked his lips.

"Dopey cat. I only enjoy your kisses."

❥𝑆𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑖

The other guys began laughing as Mingi stared wide eye at the tv in shock as he watched you lip lock with your co-star.

"Mingi! Calm down bro!" San clapped like a seal, dying from laughter.

"It's only acting." Yunho patted him on the shoulder.

Mingi looked back and forth at the tv and them.

"Please tell me there's new technology that edits kissing instead of actually having people physically do it."

His sentence only made them laugh even harder, while he just sat there, pouting intensely. He continued pouting even after you came over to spend time with him. At first you thought he just had a bad day or missed you a lot more than usual. He was clinging onto you even more, his arms instantly wrapping behind you, face hidden on your neck as he nuzzled his nose against your skin. Every time you pulled him off because you needed to go somewhere or get something, he'd follow behind you, linking pinkies with you or holding onto your arm. Then when he began pecking your lips at random times, you knew something was up, which didn't take you long to figure out.

"You saw the scene didn't you?"

Mingi immediately nodded, huffing softly as he cuddled up to you, resting his head on your stomach. You chuckled and ran your fingers through his hair.

"Mingi if it makes you feel better, I thought of you while filming it."

Although he didn't say anything, you knew he was more than likely grinning like an idiot in love.

❥𝐽𝑢𝑛𝑔 𝑊𝑜𝑜𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑔

You really did try to keep Wooyoung from finding out about the kissing scene, even going as far as asking the guys to distract him from watching your drama. But Wooyoung was smarter than you thought.

"There's something she doesn't want me to see. Isn't there?"

So the boys had no choice but to sit there and watch your drama with Wooyoung. He just sat there, straight face throughout the entire thing. But when you kissed your co-star he got the biggest smirk on his face.

"Oh.....so that's what you didn't want me to see." Wooyoung already began thinking about how to mess and tease you with this information, which was exactly the reason you didn't want him finding out in the first place.

As soon as you walked in your apartment, Wooyoung switched the lamp on and turned around in his chair, arms folding across his chest.

"Welcome home cheater."

At that point, you knew you were screwed. And he made sure to milk it for days. If you tried to hug him, he'd squirm out of your embrace. And if you tried to kiss him, he'd turn his face away and say:

"No! I'm not kissing you with that dirty, lying, cheating mouth of yours."

You had enough one day when he refused to cuddle with you though, so you opted for a different option. Getting up, you went over to his room, Wooyoung barely paying attention. When he heard Yeosang scream, he turned his head and watched him run out.

"Please just show your crazy girlfriend affection! She crawled into my bed and attempted to cuddle me!" Yeosang shivered from the physical contact.

Getting up, Wooyoung stormed over to the room.

"So now you're gonna be replacing me with my best friend?! Nuh uh! Come here so I can cuddle you!"

❥𝐶ℎ𝑜𝑖 𝐽𝑜𝑛𝑔ℎ𝑜

"Jongho, remember....stay calm." Hongjoong reminded him.

"Hyung...please. I'm mature and understand this was strictly professional. I'm not going to get mad." Jongho rolled his eyes at the leader.

"Ok, just in case though."

Yunho and Mingi proceeded to sit on opposite sides of him on the couch. Jongho merely scoffed.

"Wow so much for having faith in me. Some older brothers you guys are."

It was good of them to take precautions. Jongho tensed up when he saw your kissing scene, which then turned to outrage when he saw how your co-star's character deepened the kiss and made it even more steamy.

"Hold the fuck up! I thought this was just supposed to be a tiny kiss..."

He glared at the tv, as if trying to set it on fire.

"This is a fucking makeout scene!"

Unable to contain himself anymore, Jongho yelled as he got up from the couch, Yunho and Mingi immediately holding him back from destroying the tv or any other furniture within his reach.

"Guys be careful! He's loose!" San exclaimed as he climbed on top of the couch, Wooyoung following suit.

"Seonghwa! Get some apples for him to relieve stress and anger!" Hongjoong ordered as he attempted to calm Jongho down.

Meanwhile Yeosang just sat there quietly, munching on one of his chicken drumsticks, watching the chaotic scene unfold. Shaking his head, he picked up his phone and called you up.

"Your boyfriend's gone feral. Do you want to come tame him or can I call animal control to come take care of him?" He asked.

"Seriously Yeosang? You're an ass. I'll be there soon." You sighed as you hung up, making a mental note to yourself to pick up all of Jongho's favorite foods.

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners.

#ateez #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho

504 notes · View notes

cocobeanncteez · 4 years ago

Text

ATEEZ Yeosang Imagine: When he's secretly dating you and his friends bully you.

Genre: Angst, fluff, high school au.

Pairing: badboy!Yeosang x fem!reader

Words: 4k

Warnings: Bullying, profanities.

You didn't flinch when you felt a crumpled paper hit the back of your head—you were so used to it now. You could hear familiar laughter while another paper was thrown, and it landed right on top of your desk. You slowly straightened it out, unsurprised to find the same words you were called pretty much everyday—bitch, dweeb, nerd, prude. You put the paper in the pocket of your uniform's skirt, mentally reminding yourself to throw it away later.

"Hey, you nerd!" you heard Jung Wooyoung yell from across the classroom, but you ignored him. He was part of Ateez—a so-called group of eight bad boys who were absolutely nothing but trouble. They were always picking on someone, so most students here were scared of them. You became their victim about three months ago when you accidentally bumped into Song Mingi while you were rushing to class; he thought you were the perfect target, and all his friends joined in on bullying you.

While you were lost in your thoughts, Jung Wooyoung slammed his fist on your wooden desk, making you flinch at the sudden loud sound. "How dare you fucking ignore me, you stupid bitch?!" Your classmates quietly watched the scene, not daring to open their mouths and stand up for you; they knew that they would be next on the target-list if they even uttered a word. You only had two friends at school and both of them didn't share any common classes with you, except mathematics.

You would've stood up for yourself and slapped Jung Wooyoung across his face, but unfortunately for you, he happened to be your boyfriend's childhood and closest friend. You knew how much your boyfriend, Kang Yeosang, loved and cherished Wooyoung and the other six boys, so you never fought back whenever any of them bullied you. They didn't even know that you were dating Yeosang for almost six months now.

Yeosang always laughed with them while you got bullied, but at the end of the day, he would check up on you, pulling you into his arms and kissing you gently while he mumbled an apology.

Wooyoung was going to yell at you again, but your teacher arrived, saving you. He glared at you before he quietly returned to his seat; you knew he would come after you again once class ended.

And you were right.

"Stop right there," Wooyoung said, harshly grabbing you by your arm, and pushing you against the student lockers; you winced in pain. Mingi was right behind him, smirking at the situation.

"What did she do now, Woo?" San asked, walking towards the three of you, Seonghwa and Yeosang trailing behind him. Yeosang gave you a questioning look, but you only shook your head slowly. Only Seonghwa noticed the small exchange between you and Yeosang, but he didn't say anything.

Wooyoung snorts. "This little prude here ignored me in class. Shouldn't we teach her a less—"

"Listen, I'm fucking starving right now," Yeosang said in an annoyed tone, interrupting Wooyoung. "Can we please go eat?"

"But—"

"Same," Seonghwa said. "Let's not waste our lunch break. We can deal with her later."

"Fine," Wooyoung scoffs. "This isn't over yet, bitch," he mumbled lowly to you before following the rest of the boys to the cafeteria.

You took a deep breath, resting your head against the locker. You really wished Yeosang would just tell them you were his girlfriend; it would make everything so much easier. You wondered why he still hasn't told them when you've both been dating for nearly half a year. You couldn't help but wonder if there was something wrong with you. Was he embarrassed to be with you because you weren't the rebellious type like him and his friends? Or was it something else?

You sigh, scrunching your eyes closed while your head slightly pounded at your temples. The whole situation was seriously messing with your head. You see both your friends—Heejin and Jiwoo— making their way towards you, looking at you with worried eyes. They knew you were dating Yeosang and weren't really supportive of it.

"What's wrong?" Heejin asked.

"Headache," you replied.

She nods, taking your hand in hers. "You need to eat, Y/N." She dragged you to the cafeteria while Jiwoo happily told you both about a guy she was starting to like.

Once the three of you got to the cafeteria and bought your respective food, you sat at your usual table which was at the end of the cafeteria.

You could hear familiar laughter and you didn't even have to look at them to know who they were.

Ateez sat at their usual table which was right in the middle of the cafeteria, grabbing nearly everyone's attention. Of course, most people didn't look at them; they didn't want accidental eye-contact resulting in their life getting miserable every day.

A chorus of 'ohhs' were heard, and everyone glanced at Ateez curiously. However, the moment you looked up from your food, your stomach dropped.

Your heart ached at the sight of a girl—the most popular girl in your school— sitting on Yeosang's lap while he looked up at her with a smirk; the same smirk he always gave you whenever he teased you.

"Well, it's about time," you heard a guy seated at the table behind you say. "Kim Shinah has been trying to date him ever since the year started." You knew this, of course. Everyone at your school did. However, Yeosang told you he had absolutely no interest in her and found her quite annoying, so you were quite confused as to why he was letting her sit on his lap, let alone come close to him.

You glanced down at your food, not feeling like eating anymore. Your friends gave you a worried look.

Heejin sighed. "Y/N . . . "

You shook your head. "It's fine," you lied, smiling slightly. "I lost my appetite." You got up from your seat and disposed your food tray before you headed to your next class.

×××

You barely texted Yeosang for the next two weeks and you didn't meet him after school on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays like you usually did; you told him that you were busy studying for the upcoming exams in two weeks. You didn't eat at the cafeteria because Kim Shinah was always busy flirting with Yeosang there; it was too much for you to watch.

Yeosang noticed something was off today when he realised that you haven't replied to his texts in three whole days. He secretly tried to approach you in school, but unfortunately for him, he couldn't find the right opportunity as one of his friends was always there. He felt quite sad that you weren't even glancing at him.

After school ended, you sat on a bench right beside your school's outdoor basketball court, scrolling through your social media while waiting for Jiwoo and Heejin so you all could take a bus home together.

"Oh, look! It's the dweeb!" you heard Song Mingi say. You could see the rest of Ateez through your peripheral vision. You ignore them, keeping your eyes on your phone.

"Your skirt is pretty short for a prude," San said, pointing at your uniform skirt that had moved up your thighs a little.

"Virgins are really so desperate," Hongjoong remarked, and the others agreed. You wanted to laugh and tell them how one of their own friends took your virginity away not too long ago. On the other hand, Yeosang was pissed off with his friends' behavior, but he didn't show it. He acted like nothing was affecting him.

"But it would be so nice to fuck her," Mingi chuckled.

Jongho and Yunho nod. "Imagine how tight this little virgin—"

You had enough now.

You snorted, shocking them because of your 'bold' move. You locked your phone and put it in your pocket before you got up from the bench, looking straight at your boyfriend.

"Your friends are talking about fucking me," you said to Yeosang in a nonchalant tone. "Are you not going to say anything? Not even now?"

Wooyoung scoffed. "Why the fuck are you talking to him, bitch?"

Yeosang only stared back at you, unsure of what to say. He wanted to defend you so badly, but at the same time, he couldn't. At least not in front of his friends.

"I see," you chuckled at his silence. "Let's just . . . " you felt your heart ache. "Let's break up, Yeosang."

Yeosang's eyes widened, feeling his heart shatter into a million pieces. He never thought you would ever break up with him. Seonghwa didn't seem surprised, and the other six boys were shocked.

Yunho turned to Yeosang. "What the fuck is she saying, Yeo—"

Yeosang took a step towards you. "Babe . . . you seriously cannot be breaking up with me for this," Yeosang said, clearly hurt. One of the boys gasped, not expecting this to actually be true; who would've thought the bad boy would choose a goody-two-shoes.

"If you think this is the only reason, you're wrong," you deadpanned. "It's been six months since we started dating, Yeosang. Do you think I'm not tired of you ignoring me in front of everyone? You cancel our plans whenever you have to be with your friends. You laugh along with them whenever they're fucking harassing me, your girlfriend. Your friends have been bullying me for three months now and you wouldn't even say shit. Instead, you join in." You didn't care that the seven boys were listening to this. You didn't care that at this point, tears were streaming down your face. "You even let Kim Shinah sit on your lap and you've been fucking flirting with her right in front of me. You told me you had no interest in her. Who knows what the fuck you do behind my back!" Heejin and Jiwoo had just arrived, standing beside you. Yeosang had a pained expression on his face as he took in everything you just said.

"I really can't do this anymore," you stated, wiping away your tears with the back of your hand. "It's over, Yeosang." you give him a small smile before you walked away. Jiwoo followed you while Heejin gave Yeosang a disgusted look.

"You're an asshole, Kang Yeosang. I can't believe she actually loved you," Heejin said before she ran to catch up with you and Jiwoo.

Yeosang stared straight ahead of him, hands clenching into fists. He was so upset with himself. "I fucked up so bad. I love her so much. I really fucked up big time."

"Hyung . . . you're crying," Jongho murmured. Yeosang didn't even realize that. He lets out a broken chuckle while wiping his tears. He left without saying a word to anyone, wanting nothing more than to be alone.

"I knew this would happen," Seonghwa muttered while watching Yeosang walk away, but the boys heard him.

"You knew about this?" Wooyoung asked.

"No, but I kinda figured out recently that there was something going on between them," Seonghwa replied. "I don't know about you guys, but it was really obvious to me that Yeosang liked her. We should go apologize."

×××

You were at your school's library, studying for the exams scheduled for next week. Yeosang didn't go after you or contact you after you broke up with him. In fact, Yeosang hadn't even come to school after that, which was a week ago. His friends didn't bully you anymore and they all apologized for everything. You accepted their apology after they promised to never bully you or anyone else again.

You were just about to leave the library to go home, but someone stopped you. "Y/N, can we talk?" You nodded and followed him outside, waiting for him to speak.

"What is it, Seonghwa?" you asked anxiously when he wasn't saying anything. His silence was making you feel uneasy.

Seonghwa sighs sadly. "Yeosang . . . "

Your heart ached at the mention of his name. "What about him?" you whispered, looking away.

"It's hard to explain," Seonghwa said. "It's better if you see him instead."

"I-I can't, Seonghwa."

"Please, Y/N," he begged. "I know he fucked up, but you really need to see him right now."

You thought about it for a minute before you agreed. Seonghwa drove you to Yeosang's new apartment that he rented out two months ago after his parents kicked him out.

Seonghwa dropped you off at the entrance of the apartment complex before driving off.

You sighed as you made your way to Yeosang's apartment. You rang his doorbell, but no one answered. You rang it twice again, but there was still no response. You bit your lip, contemplating whether you should enter his passcode—the one he had before you broke up. "Fuck it," you muttered after waiting for another minute. You entered the passcode which happened to be your date of birth; you were surprised he didn't change it yet.

You went inside, wondering why his curtains weren't drawn at this time. The room was dim and there were empty Soju bottles scattered on the floor.

Your heart sank at the sight of Yeosang asleep on the floor, curled up into a fetal position. He was wearing the grey hoodie you had gotten him for his birthday.

You kneeled down beside him, running your hand through his messy brown hair. You noticed the dark circles under his eyes and he lost some weight. "What have you done to yourself . . . " you whispered. You went to his room and got a blanket. You placed it over his body and put a pillow under his head before you headed to his kitchen to make dinner with whatever ingredients you could find.

Yeosang woke up an hour later, confused because of the delicious smell of food. "Seonghwa hyung . . . ?" he called out, his voice deep as he just woke up. When he got no reply, he forced himself to stand up, making his way to the kitchen.

Yeosang rubbed his eyes sleepily. "Hyung, how did you get into my apartment? I don't think I've ever told you the pass— Y/N . . . ?"

"I made dinner," you said while putting some rice in a bowl. Yeosang stood there with a dumbfounded expression, wondering if he was still too sleepy. "Go freshen up," you said. He nodded slowly after realizing you were really here before going to the bathroom.

When he came back, he sat down with you at the dining table. "Y/N, I—"

"Eat first," you interrupted him. "We'll talk after this." He nodded obediently, immediately taking a bite of his food. He finished the entire thing in less than five minutes. "When was the last time you had a proper meal?" you asked.

"Last week," he answered. "Seonghwa hyung tried to make something for me, but I couldn't eat . . . so he forced me." He hesitantly reached out to cup your cheek, stroking your skin gently.

"What are you doing . . . ?" you murmured, involuntarily leaning into his touch that you missed so much.

"Just making sure you're really here and I'm not dreaming," he said before his eyes started watering. "Y/N, I . . . I'm so sorry." Your head told you not to forgive him, but your heart disagreed.

You stood up from the chair and went to his side, pulling him into a hug while he cried. "It's fine, Yeosang."

"It's not," he sobbed. "It's not fine and you know it. I said— I promised I wouldn't let anyone hurt you and would protect you from everyone. I promised I would never be the reason behind your tears. And look at what I did! God, I fucking hate myself for hurting you." Your heart hurt at the way he cried. You ran your fingers through his soft hair, trying to calm him down. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I want to ask you for another chance, but I know I don't deserve it," he whispered. "I failed to be a good boyfriend. I failed to be the man you could trust, and I failed to be the man you could l-love and—"

You brought his lips to yours, cutting him off. "I love you, Kang Yeosang. I'm in love with you. I have been for quite sometime now. Yes, you fucked up and I shouldn't be here, but I just can't let you go . . . I really love you, Yeosang. I want to give you another chance." He wiped your tears that began to fall.

"I don't deserve you, Y/N," he said with a sad smile. "But thank you for giving me another chance and for loving me . . . I swear I won't fuck up this time."

You kissed the birthmark beside his eye. "I know you won't . . . But I want an explanation."

He nodded. "There's nothing much to say, I was a fucking asshole. My friends always kept saying that I'm the innocent one, so I bullied people along with them to prove that I'm not what they think I am . . . and then I just got into it. I swear I wanted to beat them up for hurting you and saying all those awful things, but I just couldn't. I wasn't able to speak up even if I really wanted to . . . As for Kim Shinah, they told me to flirt back just to see her reaction. I swear I don't have any feelings for her or anyone else who isn't you." You listened to every word he said, contemplating on what to do. "You really don't have to forgive me, Y/N, after I put you through so much shit. I'll accept whatever decision you make, even if," he took a deep breath. "Even if you say you never want to see me again. I know I'm a bad person."

You shook your head, running your hands through his hair. "Everyone deserves another chance if they're willing to change, Yeosang. We all make mistakes, some forgivable and some unforgivable. But to me, what's important is how you deal with it afterwards. You're not a bad person, Yeosang. Yeah, you got carried away with all that, but that doesn't make you a bad person overall."

Tears rolled down his cheeks as he stood up from the chair, pulling you into a tight hug. "Thank you, baby. I swear I'll change. I fucking swear I'll become so much better that you'll be so proud to call me yours."

You cupped his cheek, wiping away his tears. "I'm already proud of you now," you say with a grin.

Yeosang leaned in, crashing his lips onto yours. "I love you, Y/N," he said in between kisses. "So much." You smiled against his lips, pulling away.

"I love you more, Kang Yeosang," you said before wrapping your arms around his neck, happily bringing his lips back to yours.

858 notes · View notes

jtrbluv · 4 years ago

Text

resolutely, yours. | kth

summary: When your best-friend slash pain-in-your-ass, Kim Seokjin, drags you to a New Year’s Eve party that you didn’t want to go to in the first place, what better way is there to pass the time than to stay sober and watch all your classmates go berserk? Well, that is until Kim Taehyung steps into the picture, of course.

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 2.7k+

warnings: profanity, slight alcohol consumption, implied drug usage (two words only, i swear), college party antics should say enough

A/N: first fic of the year! W O O! this was supposed to be for tae’s birthday but i guess it’s fitting since it is the new year. a special thanks to miss mei @sugacouture for her likeness and @koushiningg aka the eternal hypewoman. this fic (drabble) is rly short but i do have a lot coming up in store! for now, hope u enjoy and happy new year everyone!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You are going to murder Kim Seokjin.

The spiked punch that fills your red solo cup up to its brim has been waiting to be quaffed down for thirty-seven minutes now. Roughly five minutes before that, Seokjin had somehow managed to drag you through the front doors of the fraternity party he’s been wanting you to accompany him to for weeks now.

And it only takes ten minutes for the proclaimed party animal and people-person, Kim Seokjin, to vanish from your side. He leaves you to fend for yourself in a jungle full of plastered college students—priorities at the moment are to either drink so much liquid regret that they can’t even remember their own names, or to find someone to make out with when the clock strikes at midnight. From simple observation, you notice that most, if not everyone here, fall under both categories.

Well, the exception being you, of course.

One thing to note is that you actually do have a decent tolerance for alcohol. You were no stranger to it, and it would serve as a dutiful companion to you when times called for it. Like last week after your last final that you knew you fucking bombed.

However, the humidity of the room due to the accumulation of bodies that left little to no room for fresh air, in addition to the strong stench of alcohol mixed with sweat mixed with God knows what, just was not the ideal place for you to get wasted. It didn’t stand close in comparison to drinking with a solid group of close friends, or by yourself in the comfort of your bed while a shitty rom-com plays in the background on your laptop.

The atmosphere is suffocating all of your senses— tears pricking at the corners of your eyes due to the strong odor of the room, the curled front pieces of your hair dampening and sticking to your temples, your mouth and throat dry as the Sahara Desert because, of fucking course, there is absolutely no water to be seen.

The small black dress and heels that Seokjin forced you to wear was worsening the situation greatly—your legs practically glued stuck to the stool you were sitting on, leading to ugly red marks and stinging skin if you tried to stand up.

You could not take being inside any longer. Instead of passing out from being piss drunk, you were almost adamant that you were going to pass out from the grueling mix of heat exhaustion and secondhand high.

Your grip on the solo cup significantly tightens, nearly crushing the plastic in half. You quickly stand up from the stool you were sitting in, the sensation akin to getting your legs waxed as you take a deep inhale through your nose, mentally preparing yourself to dive into this sea of financially obligated, depressed monsters.

Peculiarly, you manage to shove your way through a good chunk of the mass, your eyes set on the door that leads towards the balcony. Your ankles almost completely give into your weight a concerning number of times, and if it wasn’t for all of the arms of oblivious partygoers that you had clung onto for dear life, you probably wouldn’t be able to stand on your own two feet by now.

Solely occupied with trying to navigate your way through the crowd, you don’t even realize that someone bumped into you and spilled your drink all over your dress until you reach the balcony. The cold, night breeze passes over your body, leaving chills on the huge wet patch on your dress. The one goddamn time your dress sees the light of day, you just so happen to find a way to ruin it.

“Fucking hell!” You holler into the vacant balcony, your hands coming up to carefully poke at the wet patch on your dress. You wince as the soaked, freezing fabric comes in contact with your bare stomach. Angry, you chug down the rest of the drink inside your cup and chuck it off the balcony, too enraged to even react to its strong taste.

Shivering, you walk deeper onto the balcony, cradling yourself and staring at your shoes, a string of curses spewing from your lips. You scold yourself for not bringing a jacket while simultaneously plotting your revenge against Seokjin. A pair of black loafers intrude your vision, accompanied by a husky voice that calls out to you,

“Oh shit, are you okay?”

Your head shoots up, your eyes meeting the ones of the man standing in front of you. He towers above you significantly despite you wearing heels. His eyes are only a tad obscured by the soft, brown curls of his hair, perfectly styled and gelled to have that ‘purposefully messy’ look. The only difference being that models stood no chance against him when he was the blueprint himself. The black button up he’s clad in exquisitely accentuates every crevice of his lean, chiseled body. And his eyes that were already alluring on their own, were adorn with hazel-colored contacts that you swear you could stare at for hours upon hours. He is so otherworldly beautiful, you temporarily forget to breathe.

And you also forget that you are just staring at him, and he is staring back at you with a smile.

Times like this is when you wish you were at least a little buzzed. Sober ‘you’ is way too socially inept to fend for themself sadly. “O-oh i’m fine, someone just spilled their drink on me.”

Maybe it’s the way the moon sits behind him and casts a halo-like glow around his figure or how he’s just been staring straight into your eyes this whole time, like it’s second nature whilst you can only hold eye contact with him for two seconds before instinctively shying away. To say that his presence frightened you was an understatement. You were about to take cover and hide under the patio table like a five-year-old if he kept looking at you like that.

He blinks, his mouth stretching into a wide grin, rectangular-shaped and having the ability to ease your nerves. He places his drink on a patio table, dusting his hands on his pants, “Here, I’ll get you some napkins, just stay here.”

Stunned, it isn’t until he leaves that you yell out to him as he steps back inside the chaos, “Thank you!”

You carefully sit down on a patio chair, your arms still wrapped around your shivering torso while you try to breathe warm air into your cupped hands.

The man steps out onto the balcony minutes later, his fists full of paper towels as he hands them to you. “Here you go.”

You graciously take them, blotting your dress with the paper towels, your nose scrunching at the scent of alcohol that you had no choice but to inhale. “Thank you so much, really.” You say— still very much shocked to know that chivalry isn't quite dead yet. “It’s Taehyung, right?”

He nods, “Yeah, and you’re Y/N?

Your pause, your hand hovering over your dress as you look up and nod with a forced smile, “No but really, thank you. You didn’t have to.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m sorry that it happened in the first place,” he says apologetically, as if it was his fault, “it seems like everyone’s already out of their minds, and it isn’t even midnight yet.”

“Hey, don’t apologize,” you assure him, which seems to work because his eyes soften a bit, “besides, I guess it’s my fault for coming here in the first place. I knew something like this was gonna happen and now here I am, smelling like cheap, convenience store vodka.”

He chuckles, and you swear you’ve never been so elated to make someone laugh until now, “I somehow managed to beat the crowd. I’ve literally just been standing out here by myself for a good hour now.”

You sigh in envy, “Must be nice.”

“Too bad you couldn’t make it, it’s been awfully quiet up here.” He says, pivoting on his heel to look at the rest of the empty balcony.

Your eyes trail to the commotion inside the house, the crowd still going strong, “Are we really the only sober ones here?”

He shakes his head, “Nah, we’re just the only ones stupid enough to show up at a college party on New Year’s Eve, expecting to have a good time sober while everyone’s getting plastered.”

The unexpected truth pill causes you to enter a fit of laughter, small clouds of air leaving your mouth every time you exhale. He laughs along with you. “Yeah we are pretty stupid, I do admit.” You concur, while rubbing at your arms that were covered in goosebumps.

“Do you want my jacket?” He asks you while pointing to the black blazer that’s slung on top of the chair next to you.

You wrinkle your nose, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, before I put it on you myself,” he giggles with a roll of his eyes.

Shaking your head, you grab the blazer and wrap it around your shoulders. You stand up from your seat and turn towards him, brow quirked. “A-are you not cold? It’s fucking freezing out here.”

“I’m fine, I swear,” he counters, reaching out to help you slip your arms into his huge jacket sleeves, “I’m also not wearing a sleeveless dress.” He teases, eyeing you up and down as he takes in how oversized his jacket is on you. He thinks it looks much better when you’re wearing it, but he won’t tell you that.

“Right…” you drag out, following his footsteps as he motions you to follow him towards the edge of the balcony.

You two stand next to each other, leaning against the edge, arms nearly brushing against one another.

“So Taehyung, what brings you here in the first place?” You ask, knowing that he seems just as displeased to be here as much as you are.

“I got dragged here by a friend, Park Jimin, in particular.” He responds with a frown, “I have no idea where the fuck he is now, he literally left me as soon as we got here.”

Turning towards him incredulously, your brows raise and the corner of your lip curls into a smirk, “You don’t say.”

Confused, but also curious about the expression painted across your face, he quirks a brow, “Hm?”

You close your mouth, crossing your arms tighter around yourself, “I got dragged here by a friend too. Kim Seokjin. That asshole left me as soon as we got here too.”

He steps back, scoffing in disbelief, “Wow, we really just got stood up by our own friends.” Taehyung proclaims into the vacant balcony, for both him and you— the thought of it sounding even more pathetic after being said out loud.

“They’re pretty goddamn close to losing that title now.” You quip, shaking your head in dismay.

His head rocks back, a lively laugh leaving his lips due to your comment which makes you smile at the fact that you are even able to make him laugh like this.

“Damn it Y/N, you should’ve came out sooner, we could’ve been having a good time out here.” He tells you with a pout as his laughter starts to dwindle.

Sighing heavily, you too, feel regretful about the missed opportunity, “I really should have.”

He nudges you with his elbow, “At least you’re here now.”

The bass-boosted music from inside the house ceases, the room becoming momentarily quieter while someone bellows out, “Hey look, it’s the countdown!”

Everyone’s focus shifts towards the gigantic flat screen TV that hung above the fireplace, making you realize where the fraternity funds truly go to. You and Taehyung exchange glances before shrugging and moving closer to all the commotion since it was New Year’s Eve, above all.

He leans against the doorframe and you stay close to his side, the number ten flashing brightly on the screen—the crowd’s shouts getting louder as it reaches the final ten seconds of the year.

Instead of shouting out the numbers with the rest of the mass, you and Taehyung are simply witnessing it all fold out in silence.

“EIGHT!”

‘You got any New Year’s resolutions?!” You nudge him while attempting to yell over the noise.

His head whips towards you, “Me?!”

“SEVEN!”

Your brows furrow, “Does it look like I’m talking to anyone else?!”

His mouth splits into a grin once more, folding over in laughter just enough to meet eye-to-eye with you.

“SIX!”

“I mean! I didn’t have one originally!”

The crease in your brows dissipate, “Well, what changed?!”

“FIVE!”

His head tilts to the side, “I came here!”

You mirror his head tilt, confused as ever, “Um, so you wanna go to more parties next year?!”

“FOUR!”

He slaps a palm against his forehead, “From what you know about me, does it look like I like parties?!”

“How the hell would I know?!”

His jaw drops, “Y/N—!”

“THREE!”

“—I wanna get to know you better Y/N!”

Your jaw drops as well, “What?! Me?!”

“TWO!”

“Is there any other Y/N standing in front of me?!”

“I– oh...”

“ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!” The crowd shouts together in unison despite all being under the influence. A confetti cannon erupts, flying around the room and falling into people’s hair as the mass starts to split into pairs, all partaking in the traditional New Year’s kiss that you personally haven’t had much luck in participating in yourself.

You rip your gaze away to look at Taehyung. He smiles, pulling a piece of confetti out of hair, making your cheeks flush. “Happy New Year, Y/N.”

“Happy New Year, Taehyung.”

The small amount of alcohol you consumed when you first stepped foot onto the balcony leaves you slightly buzzed. Just enough to leave you with the right amount of courage to vouch for the nickname.

You take a daring step towards the man in front of you, “I also have a resolution of my own, Taehyung.”

He takes an even more daring step towards you, having the audacity to lean down— your faces only inches apart. “And what is that, may I ask?”

Grabbing onto the collar of his shirt, you close the gap in between the two of you, locking your lips with his. The kiss isn’t short enough to be a peck but isn’t long enough to be considered making out. You pull away enough to be able to see his face, “Is to get to know you better too.”

He chuckles, “Y/N, your lips taste like spiked punch.”

Pouting, you bump your forehead into his, “All I drank was whatever you saw me have at the balcony, I swear.”

He pecks your nose, your frown immediately wiping away as he does so, “I trust you.”

You smile, giving him a peck on the mouth, “As you should.”

“I’d kiss you again, but you probably can’t stand being here any longer. Let’s get out of here.” He tells you, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

You slide your arm onto his, interlocking his fingers with your own, “I think you’ve already completed your resolution Taehyung. You seem to know me so well already.”

Pushing through the crowd, he hooks an arm onto your waist while he shoves a path for you two to get through, “Too bad I don’t know where you wanna go though.”

You hum, thinking for a moment before your grumbling stomach answers for you, “I’m hungry, let’s go grab burgers or something.”

You don’t see the way Taehyung is fondly staring at you because you’re too busy trying to open the front door. At last, you manage to pry it open, stepping back outside while Taehyung’s holding you in his arms. It’s not that cold this time.

Taehyung’s hands land on both of your shoulders— turning you around to face him as he swiftly latches his lips onto yours. You stumble back, but his hand is quick to support you as he kisses you deeply. You kiss him back, letting your fingers curl around the curls of his hair.

He pulls back this time, letting his forehead rest on yours, “Y/N, I think you are the one that’s completed your resolution. How the hell did you know that I fucking love burgers?”

MASTERLIST

316 notes · View notes

barnesbabee · 5 years ago

Text

I’ll Fuck You Like A Pornstar || K.H

Summary: Have you ever wondered what it feels like to be fucked, like a pornstar?

Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x Reader

Words: Ask God, he might know Idk

Genre: Smut

⚠ drinking, punishment, pornstar!au, spanking ⚠

A/N: I love Hongjoong’s lips :)). Enjoy 💖

ᴄʀ: ʙᴀʀɴᴇꜱʙᴀʙᴇᴇ

Seonghwa ver. || San ver. || Jongho ver.

“Good morning Sir! What can I get you?”

“Your number.”

Your sleepy eyes widened and you took a better look at the smiling man in front of you. He had bleached hair, swept back into a beanie, and several earrings decorating his ears. His eyes were serene and soft, and his style, although casual, was very eye-catchy. The man was gorgeous, there was no doubt. Your doubts rested in his question: why did this idol-like stranger want your number? You had very visible eyebags from the lack of sleep and there was a huge stain of your shirt from when you had tried to make a smoothie but forgot to put the lid on the blender.

You had no answer to the flirty line, not because you were shy or not used to being courted like that, but because your sleep-deprived mind could not formulate an adequate response.

He chuckled with the most attractive voice you’d ever heard when he saw you frozen. You watched as he pulled out his phone from the pocket of his jacket and unlocked it, handing it to you.

“Is that a yes?”

You finally broke out a smile and bit your lip. You hesitantly reached for the phone and typed in your number. Instead of typing your name, however, you decided to redeem yourself from your previous lack of response and type in ‘princess’.

The male’s smile widened when he saw your name and he chuckled.

“Well then, princess,” He said, looking at you with a hedonistic expression as his tongue grazed his lower lip “I would like a caramel macchiato to go.”

“Certainly Sir, and what would be the name for the cup?” You asked, teasingly, holding a black pen near the cup.

“Hongjoong.”

The second he left the café (after winking cheekily winking at you of course) you couldn’t help but wait for your phone to vibrate with a text from him. You had never noticed how many texts you received throughout the day until you were waiting for a particular one.

The day went on painfully slow, but your heart was racing, waiting for the handsome man’s text… You were getting a little impatient, you had to admit, and by the time you were closing up the shop, you were a little upset about the fact that you didn’t even get a ‘Hello’ text.

You were pouting to yourself when a loud sound rang from your pocket. Who could be calling you at this hour!?

You set down your broom and grabbed the phone.

Unknown Number

It had to be Hongjoong, although you were a little surprised, you didn’t expect him to straight up call you, who does that? Nevertheless, you slid your thumb across the screen and accepted the call.

“Hello?” You asked, beginning to think that this was all a prank.

“Hello princess, are you done with your work?”

His voice was mellow and in that tone, he could make you do whatever he wanted. You bit your lip at the pet name. You loved to be called princess, but it just sounded so much better when it was him saying.

“Just about, I’m closing the café now.” You informed him.

There was a pause, and when he was about to speak you interrupted him.

“Hongjoong, why did you call me though? You know a text would do just fine…”

He chuckled from the other side of the line.

“Texting just feels so impersonal, you know? Especially when I’m about to ask you out for a drink.”

This man had no shame… He sweet-talked you like you were his already, and he spoke with an overwhelming amount of confidence.

“Out? Right now?”

“Yes, right now. Meet you in front of your café in say, two hours?”

You smiled to yourself and grabbed your coat, ready to leave.

“If you’re not on time I’m leaving.”

“Gotcha, princess.”

You hung up, and the cheeky smiled stayed on your lips. You were attracted to the way he behaved and carried himself. He was good-looking, he was fashionable, and he knew so. Hongjoong knew exactly how to handle himself and fuck, it was hot.

You nearly sprinted to your house, out of excitement. It was about twenty minutes away from your workplace, but you managed to get there in twelve.

As soon as you stepped into your apartment you stripped from your work attire and threw it somewhere on the floor. You only had about one hour and fifty minutes to get ready, and you had to rush yourself.

One hour and a half passed in the blink of an eye, and you absolutely had to leave the house.

You took one last look at yourself in the mirror and pulled down the tight skirt of your flashy cocktail dress. You nodded at the hot-shot staring at you in the mirror and threw a jacket over your shoulders as you left the house.

You hated to walk in a short dress, alone at night, so you walked as fast as you could in those nude-coloured stilettos of yours.

When you could finally see the café in the distance, you noticed someone leaning against the big glass window. His style wasn’t very common, but you had to admit that he looked amazing in that deep red turtleneck and black beret.

“Hello!” You greeted once you were close enough.

Hongjoong looked at you from head to toe and smiled. You watched as he said nothing, while straightening himself, taking his phone from your pocket and showing its screen to you.

“8:32. You’re late, good girls aren’t late.” He said, expecting a flustered response.

“Well then, I guess you’ll just have to punish me.”

Hongjoong cocked a brow and looked at you in amusement, absolutely enjoying your blatant behaviour.

“Let’s go then?”

You and the male walked to the famous bar nearby making some small talk before you reached.

You learned that the both of you shared a common passion: getting absolutely shitfaced. You loved the you that came out whenever the shots of tequila hit. You loved the thrill and shamelessness drinking brought out of you.

The bar wasn’t far, so in just a couple of minutes you were entering the alcohol and smoke-reeking place. You huffed in a breath, as if you were smelling the fresh air in a park. You missed these environments.

Hongjoong noticed and chuckled, leading you to a booth that had a round table, and a large, red sofa almost all the way around it.

You sat in front of each other and ordered a couple of light drinks, since it wasn’t even close to an acceptable hour to ask for a round of shots.

“So, princess,” He started “mind telling me your real name?”

You blushed a little at the fact that you hadn’t even told him your name yet.

“My name is Y/N.”

He nodded along to the information.

“Pretty name.”

You chuckled and looked at him teasingly.

“You’re not gonna hit me with a ‘Pretty name, just like you’ line?” You asked.

Hongjoong smiled at you and took a sip of his scotch.

“No, I don’t need to.”

You looked at him in disbelief, at how smooth he was, and took your drink up to your mouth to hide the slight pink tone on your cheeks.

As per usual, most of the talking the two of you did was to get to know each other, but the whole hour or so of sharing stories and moments from your lives came to a halt with a particular question.

“Hey, you already know what I do for a living, but what do you do? Are you like a model? ‘Cause you sure dress like one.”

Hongjoong smiled at the compliment and chuckled, looking at the ground for a second before looking straight into your eyes.

“Something like that…”

You noticed the way his eyes darkened for a second and you tilted your head to the side, in confusion.

“What do you mean, ‘Something like that’?”

Hongjoong leaned in, close enough so his lips were almost touching your ear.

“I’m a pornstar.”

You almost spit your drink back into your cup, but when you saw him pull away with the biggest, smuggest smirk of the night, you forced yourself to recompose.

“What? Does that freak you out?” He asked, although he didn’t look the slightest bit preoccupied if him being a pornstar bothered you.

You bit your lip in return and shook your head.

“Of course it doesn’t…” Hongjoong paused for a second and moved closed to you, so close that his thigh touched yours.

He looked down at your exposed legs and placed his hand on one of them, squeezing it lightly. Your eyes followed his tongue, as he swiped it across his lower lip.

“Because you like it, don’t you?”

The question kind of caught you off guard, and your eyes snapped up to meet his. Only then did you realize how close you were, just a mere centimeters away from your noses touching.

His lewd whispers made you a little tense, and a small pool started forming between your legs. You pressed your thighs together, and when Hongjoong felt it, he moaned quietly.

“Have you lost the ability to speak, princess?” He asked smugly, thinking that he had finally been able to make you speechless.

You smiled and bit your lip, trying to decide if you should say what was on your mind or not. Ultimately, the bravery your couple of drinks had given you won over.

“Not at all… I was just imagining how well a pornstar must fuck.”

Hongjoong’s expression darkened and his face inched even closer, until his lips were brushing over yours.

“Do you want to find out?”

You replied by fully pressing your lips on his, moving them slowly yet roughly. Hongjoong’s hand traveled up your inner thigh until it was dangerously close to your aching core. His fingers dipped harshly in your skin, and you were sure they would be marked there the next day. Neither of cared who was watching, you just wanted to feel each other, to taste each other.

Once you pulled away, he stood up and extended his hand for you to take. Confused, you grabbed your bag and took his hand in yours. He pulled you close and walked you out of the bar.

“Where are we going?” You asked.

Hongjoong looked at you and let go of your hand, so he could sneak an arm around your waist and pull you closer.

“To a place where I’ll make you scream my name.”

You felt giddy and nervous, like a teen girl about to get her first kiss.

After a couple of minutes of silent walking and some groping from both parties, you arrived somewhere you assumed was his house. He immediately pulled you into his bedroom, and you looked around, curiously.

The room was exactly what you expected. Big, with wine-coloured walls, setting a sensual tone around you, a big, king-sized bed with black sheets, a fancy wardrobe, a black desk by the window and a body-lenght mirror by the wall opposite to yourself.

You looked at the iron bar above the bed, stuck to the wall and furrowed your eyebrows.

"What is that for?" You asked, pointing at it.

Hongjoong's arms snaked around your waist and pulled you close to him, your back hitting his chest. His lips lingered on your neck before placing a long kiss below your ear.

"Do you want to find out?"

The way his voice sounded, dominant and enticing, sent shivers down your spine, and you found yourself leaning into his touch.

He chuckled at your response and bit your neck harshly, making you whimper.

Hongjoong’s fingers played with the hem of your dress for a second, before slowly sliding it up your body, and eventually off of you. He gripped your waist and turned you around, taking his sweet time to admire your body.

He was quick to undo your bra, and you allowed it to fall from your body, giving him a perfect view of your breasts.

“Fuck…” He cursed, before locking his lips with yours.

You moaned into the kiss when you felt one of your nipples being pinched harshly, and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth.

He pulled away and bit his lip.

“Get on the bed, I’ll show you what that iron bar is for.”

You excitedly took a place on the bed and watched him strip down to his boxers. Fuck, his body was really a sight to see…

Hongjoong approached the big wardrobe and fondled with some items in a drawer you couldn’t quite see. When he turned around, you saw a pair of big, shiny handcuffs playing in his fingers.

Your eyes widened and his glistened.

He approached you slowly and motioned for you to turn around. You obliged, and he hooked the handcuffs’ chain around the bar before tightening the silver rings around your wrists.

Hongjoong pat your ass softly and kissed your cheek.

“You look so good like this… Now be a good girl or I’ll have to punish you, okay?”

“Okay…” You replied.

You were almost certain that you wanted to act out, just so he could punish you.

Hongjoong slipped off your panties and spread your legs wider. The cold air hitting your bare pussy made you feel exposed. A good kind of exposed.

“Don’t cum.”

Before you knew it Hongjoong slid between your legs and slammed you down on his face. You immediately moaned at the contact, and gripped the chain that connected the cuffs together.

Hongjoong’s tongue delivered kitty licks to your womanhood and entered you occasionally, and he couldn’t get enough of how well you tasted.

His tongue swirled around you like he knew every corner of your body. Hongjoong would moan from time to time, the vibrations driving you insane.

Your legs absolutely gave in the second he began sucking on your clit, and even though you did your best not to cum, you ended up crumbling under his touch, and you climaxed with a loud cry for his name.

Hongjoong immediately lifted you up and knelt behind you.

He held your hips tightly and you could feel his boner pressing against your ass as his lips neared your ear.

“You misbehaved, princess… I’ll have to do something about it, no?”

Your tongue grazed along your lower lip and you nodded. You felt a sharp pain in your ass, before he stood up and walked to the wardrobe.

You heard him rumble through items, followed by a whip in the air.

Fuck.

It didn’t take long before you felt a stinging pain in your ass cheeks. You arched your back, He alternated between them, and the strength only increased at each whip. Suddenly he stopped and caressed your ass with one of his hands.

“Are you hurting too much?” He asked, genuinely worried.

For a second he forgot you weren’t one of his co-workers...

You smirked and glance at him over your shoulder.

“Are you holding back too much?”

Hongjoong loved a challenge, and the way you kept teasing him and pushing him to the edge… It was paradise.

He swung his arm back and you could swear you saw stars when he whipped your ass. You whimpered and shook whenever the leather material hit your skin, and you could pretty much feel yourself dripping onto his mattress at this point.

Your wrists were already hurting from the amount of wiggling and pressure you put into them, but the reddening skin on your wrist was the least of your preoccupations.

“Hongjoong… Please!” You begged loudly.

“Please what princess? Have you had enough?”

You nodded furiously.

“Yes… Please fuck me Hongjoong, I need you in me now!”

He swiftly undid your handcuffs and grazed his thumb over the red marks softly, as he pushed you down onto the mattress. Hongjoong spread your legs and knelt between them, removing his boxers in the process.

As he let his cock free, it hit your stomach, causing you to whimper at the small contact. Still not done with playing with you, Hongjoong pressed the tip on his dick against your slit and ran it along your folds, loving to see your desperate reaction, and the way your hips bucked, begging for more.

“Fucking stop teasing me and fuck me already!” You yelled as you gripped his wrists, that held your hips.

“As you wish, princess.”

He finally entered you, with a fulfilling harsh thrust. The way he moved in and out of you was absolutely the way of a professional. He had you screaming and squirming in no time, and the amount of stamina he had was unreal.

Hongjoong thrust into you faster and harsher at every thrust. The look on his face was almost as if he had some competition to win: it was feral and rough, his hair was stuck to his forehead and his eyes were dark.

“Hongjoong… I-I’m gonna cum again…” You said between breaths.

The male slapped one of your breasts and grabbed it harshly.

“Cum for me princess. I wanna feel you around my cock.”

A couple more thrusts and a harsh squeeze on your nipple were what triggered you. Your toes curled. you grabbed the sheets harshly and your eyes shut tightly as a new wave of pleasure washed over your body.

Hongjoong let go of your breast, but his grip on your waist tightened, and his thrusts became uneven and sloppier. It was the lewd sounds of his cock slamming into your dripping core, along with your dirty sounds that sent him over the edge.

He moaned lowly and pulled out, painting your stomach and breasts with a warm load of cum.

You locked gazes with him and took some of his spurt in your finger, then inserting it in your mouth as you tasted him.

Hongjoong squeezed your thigh and smirked.

“Whatever will I do with you, my princess.”

1K notes · View notes