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noir-drabbles · 7 months ago

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Drafts 1

Summary: Just an unfinished solo writing thing while playing Iron Valley. Basically it was just me testing out what it is I wanted, trying to create my own setting and characters, but then my brain got bored of it. So, I figured I may as well dump it here.

(I said I was going to start dumping my drafts here and I am going to commit to it. Drafts will be half actual prose writing and rambles on the side because I want people to enjoy the ideas and characters I have in my head. Hope this is fun!)

(Oh yeah, here's the link to the game I was playing. Lot of reading but it's easy to start and understand. Really does test out one's creative muscles.)

Today’s Spring pick for the Luminariae Post is as follows:

When a new branch grows, I always worry for what it may carry. The bark upon the trunk is many years old and yet it still insists on growing new leaves, new buds, and new fruits. A large and wise old tree, and yet it didn’t know age. It didn’t know where it should draw its limits. It simply grew and produced, as it always has, even when the threat of disease was always there.

But I’m not scornful. I’ll simply grab my polished clippers and snap off whatever rot has caught onto the leaves, onto the branches. I’ll eat the fruit it gives me, and carve a flute out of the wood I snipped off.

I’ve been there when you were young, when each new leaf would make me dance in the mud because I keep forgetting not to over water you. When your fruits would spawn out of seemingly nowhere, like your love for the world could not be contained, so you had to give it back as much and as fast as you could.

You’ve long outgrown me. I can’t even climb up to the very top of you as I once used to with my own little sister. You could still support me, but the youth in your new branches are not what they used to be. And yet, you still try and grow just as much fruit as you can, even when it’s no longer anything anyone can eat.

You’re just an old fool. You and I are two of a kind. And that it why you will always be one of my dearest friends.

And every day, I thank you for being who you are.

– Carmen

Heyo, author Noir here. So, the idea I had for this little segment is that every start of the new season, the Luminariae Post would post a submission that was sent to them by one of the residents in this small town of Arbor Hills. Typically they pick submissions that have something to do with the current season, or just a general connection to nature that can be connected to said season. It's also meant for the regular folk to take a peek into a small part of that resident that wrote the piece. Just fluff writing things.

Oh, and Carmen is a big ol dragon man, the one that basically provides the Reader with a house and a job, a nice bouncing point since the Reader starts off with literally nothing, not even clothes. He's a nice man, good roommate and clearly misses having other people live in his house. There's this big tree that the whole town pays their respects towards because of the sheer size and reach of its roots. In fact, most of the plants and trees you find often end up connecting their roots to that big tree, as it provides nutrients to said plants, leading to them weathering even the toughest of disasters. Rumor has it that Carmen was the one that planted that tree when it was a sapling, but that's just a rumor.

Spring 2

Time: [0/4]

| Forecast: Sunny | Luck: Neutral | Lucky Color: Lemon |

“Did you hear? Apparently our dear local baker has been in need of a new recipe to put as a potential special.”

“Oh? Which one? Is it that sweetie Ivory or that nutty Obsidian?”

“Don’t be mean Martha. But it is nutty Obsidian. Apparently he’s going a little crazy from lack of inspiration and just wants something new to really make his day pop from grays to happy pinks.”

“Hehehe, well in that case, you think he’ll want to try out some of my homemade cookies? Maybe that’ll perk him right up and get his head out of the pizza oven ashes?”

“Bleh, if you want to kill him… But yes, let’s. I’ll be the merciful one and bring him some of my delicious tea.”

“Let’s poison him together, Lily.”

The idea I had here is basically a cutscene being played out every day, where a couple of characters do something or have a conversation that implies a very long request. The town bulletin is still a thing, but those quests will end up being pretty short. The short requests do change often, I'd say once every two days, while the longer requests are more persistent, changing once every five days. Obsidian is basically this mad scientist-like baker that loves to go crazy with the designs and flavors of his baked goods. And, well, he's prone to losing inspiration and just wants something to get that flow going. He's a pretty intense cosmic star dude, the kind of energy that easy to be overwhelmed with. He has a sister named Ivory who helps out in the bakery, but is mostly found working with wood as the local carpenter. She's not gentle, she has that quiet intensity about her, and is just as wacky with her woods craft. She will get the request done, and will probably add some else to it. A weird feature that you probably won't notice until you accidentally activate it. Like a table that can convert itself into a suit of wood armor. You never know with these two.

Oh, and I have no clue who Martha and Lily are. Just that they're best friends who love to gossip, and were once very competitive rivals in school before someone tried to accuse them of cheating so they'd be unable to participate in theater. Yeah, those two were theater kids, and their rivalry, for the most part, was a fun exaggerated thing on their part that got a liiiiittle too real, but they're good now. They're middle-aged and married to their respective spouses.

“You doing alright?”

You snapped out of your reverie by a rumbling voice that’s not quite meant to overpower the general noise, so much as it should rumble underneath one’s feet.

You didn’t look at Carmen. You looked at his horns instead, all scratched up and chipped at in all their ridged and curling glory. It’s hard to look at him in the eyes. They aren’t particularly piercing, they’re just filled with a love for the world around him. A gentle and boundless love that he’s willing to share with you, a fellow roommate but a stranger still.

It’s… a lot. Too much. But it’s fine. He’s good and nice. He makes you all those warm and filling meals, and lets you take up a room in his house. You had nowhere else to go, but he gave you a hand anyway.

So, are you doing alright? He did ask.

You hummed out a yes. Because words would be too much in all this noise. The sensation of your throat rumbling, of moving your lips and making a conscious effort not to stutter. You’re already a little on edge as is.

“Hmm,” he copied your tone, though you didn’t know if that meant he believed you or not, “I know there’s a lot of little noises, but a small outing like this is good. It is something to get used to, that’s for certain.”

It’s… yeah, he’s right. It is a lot. Carmen’s farm isn’t exactly all the quiet either, with all the cows, chickens and bees he has, but there’s a different quality to the noise of people. It’s a… a rhythm, of sorts. The livestock back home are always keeping out a listening ear to the nature around them, so their own noises follow that beat, usually. But people… don’t really care, nor can they truly listen.

The rhythm isn’t bad, in the sense that it’s wrong and that people should pay more attention. It’s just… different. Absorbed in their own little pocket of time. And those pockets just, overlap in your ears.

You’ll probably get used to it, in the same way you got used to Carmen when you first woke up to his face looming right over under the arbor. It was an adjustment. The man’s over seven feet tall with a broad frame to fit, built over the years from heavy farm work. But, you suppose that’s the average height of all dragons. Well, his specific branch of dragon anyway. You don’t know any other dragon.

You nodded and let your eyes wander over the sparse crowd around you, to the area you’re both sitting on a bench in.

The village’s center, built around a pretty fountain that’s filled with little seashells, all in various pastel colors of white, blue and pink. One little kid in white sandals had to lay her belly on the ledge of the fountain just to reach in and drop her shell. Her little transparent wings fluttered with her excitement, dropping flecks of pink dust here and there.

A water spout spat right up her nose and the little fairy girl snorted then gave a big powerful sneeze. She launched herself right into the air. Luckily, before you or Carmen could rush right over, her father was right there to catch her.

Chuckling, her fairy father said, “I got a precious gift from the heavens!”

“No!” She yelled, raising her arms high like claws, “I am your worst nightmare! I eat your dreams and your banana splits!”

He gasped, “A monster! Oh no!”

She kicked her feet and lost a sandal in her giggles.

You jumped when Carmen gave chuckles of his own. The sheer volume of his voice never ceases to surprise you, that his happiness can be something so… loud? Strong? It’s solid. Which is kind of dumb now that you think about it. You’ve seen him lift an entire tree trunk with his arms and shoulder alone. It shouldn’t be shocking at all to find that his laugh has just as much power behind it.

But it is, because he would always bend down just so people could hear him. He didn’t like raising his voice just as much as he hated going into the details of his private life.

And with a flinch, Carmen realized as much. He looked to the side, scratched the back of his neck, and sighed out, “Sorry.”

Did you look bug-eyed? You probably did.

You shook your head at Carmen. He doesn’t need to apologize to you. It’s not his fault that you’re easily startled. Besides, he’s the one going out of his way to get you situated in this place. He didn’t have to do it, but he did anyway.

He nodded to you then hovered a hand right over your shoulder. He stopped, waited, and when you shifted closer, he patted you. The weight and strength of his bones alone almost made your joint creak.

“I’ll be going on ahead. I need to buy some things for the gardening day this week.” Carmen reached into his pocket and took out a few notes that you don’t really need. He pays you plenty for your services, but saying no to him–especially when he wants to spoil or be nice–just leaves a sour taste in your mouth. He stuffed them in your hands. “Go around, explore. Or relax by the community garden if you’d like. I’ll be by Peach’s place for the most part. I won’t go home unless you want to, okay?”

Ah, here it is, the big send off. You can’t really complain since you asked for this kind of time for yourself, but augh… It’s difficult all the same. You’ve been here for the better part of one year and you’ve yet to make a single friend. You haven’t really been trying, to be perfectly honest. Whenever you go out into the village on your moped, you’re strictly in working mode, schedule and time all planned out. Whenever people would try and talk to you during those hours, you get antsy and anxious.

You hate being off schedule. On top of that, if you weren’t working, you were around Carmen all the time. He’s a friendly and well known face. It’s only natural for people to gravitate towards him rather than you, especially when you would rather hide in his shadow than look at anyone.

You weren’t trying to make friends. Everything was just too unfamiliar for you to do that, or even think of it. And nobody pushed you to do that. In a way, you’re grateful for that, that the people here left you alone for the most part. A nice respect of your time and attention. They made attempts to talk to you, certainly, but that was about where the pushiness ended.

And, now, you’re calmer-ish. You can take the time and try.

You can go anywhere and make a friend.

…

Augh, you still can’t talk. Words just really don’t want to come out.

Well, baby steps, baby steps.

Carmen has since left you to yourself, with money in your hands. A nice sizable amount. Can’t buy a microwave with it, but you can grab a while feast of pastries if you wanted to.

…you know what? That sounds like a good idea. Having something to munch on while trying to make a friend would help calm you down some. Besides, a lot of people frequent the bakery. Surely you’ll be able to find someone who wants to befriend you.

That and you’ve heard of the gossip between those two women over there. Apparently the local baker needs some help. You don’t have any ideas, but maybe you’ll come up with something by the time you get there?

The crowd didn’t really get any thinner as you walked down the white stone path. Lots of people were gathered in small packs, but they were polite enough to shift slightly out of your way. You followed the scent of bread and soon enough found yourself inside the cozy atmosphere of a bakery.

Honestly, it seemed more like a home than it did a bakery, which makes sense since it looked like a store/home hybrid from the outside. But, rather than a home that seeks to hide emptiness with store bought furniture the owner vaguely likes, each table, chair and even the frame of the mirrors in this place were clearly handmade.

It was small though, and all the furniture had people either gathering or sitting on it. There wasn’t anywhere you could just pick and sit down for an hour or two while you mindlessly pick at your pastry and watch the people go by.

A healthy routine makes for a good base for potential friendships. At least that’s how Carmen puts it. You’re not sure if it’s true, but you may as well try, right?

You walk to the back of the line and wait. At the front, behind the register was someone that you can only describe as a galactic black hole. The white light that makes up what you think is hair slowly swirls around in a clock-wise motion, collecting light like a vent does smoke as it slowly gathers in some dark center you can’t make out. The white light hair fades into a dark shadow dappled with white little star pinpricks, doing nothing to to take away from the bright eyes that look around this way and that.

This person had no mouth to speak of as he nodded and packaged a new box of pan dulce. It’s interesting to you, watching the way their body never quite stabilized into something truly solid, but it was enough for his clothes to hang on. He didn’t have a uniform, it was just a set of comfy billowing clothes that had little tears and big patches over what was probably holes.

His form stretched up, bending in ways a shadow would as he gave the box to the person waiting in line.

“You wanted a surprise and a surprise is what you’ll get!”

Aaaand this is where I lost my steam, and I had a pretty good pace going too.

Reader is basically this dryad person that was born from the big tree(of which I have yet to name, eh) and as such, has little to no knowledge of many things beyond the general basics. Socializing is obviously not their thing. Many of the towns people just think they're a traveler from afar that suffers from amnesia, but since nobody witnesses the Reader coming out of the tree, it can't really be disputed that they're not a traveler.

There's a biblically accurate angel just, hanging out in Arbor Hills. He's the current master carpenter and boss of Ivory. He spends most of his time sleeping, and in the rare times one manages to make a request to him, you can be sure that whatever furniture he makes will never break, and will even have a little buff to them.

The angel's name is Peach, because someone called him "an absolute peach." With the last name Angel for the sake of simplicity. No matter how you poke and prod at him, you can't get details about his past, you'll just get references about how empty of an existence he was living before coming here. Now he can dream all he likes.

There's a tradition at the start of a new year to share stories you may have or have written. Arbor Hills is all about communal story crafting, so often the whole town will come together to either craft a new fairy tale, or add on to another existing tale. The only rule is that it has to have at least one true event in there, or be based on a true event. So you could have witnessed a bug trip over grass and flip itself over and craft a tale about a malicious weed that seeks to grow and prank all the bugs that nipped at it. That kind of thing. So, one of the Promises is to get ideas and make a story before Spring 1 rolls around. There are usually two groups, one group that's full of people that have written their stories on their own, and the other group that shares their ideas for a group story making session. Perfection is not expected. Just have fun. And if you don't want to make a story, just be a listening ear.

There's also another tradition where, after reaching a certain age, kiddos go to the community garden to pick out a seed they like and plant it somewhere in the town. This tradition does stretch out beyond just for the kids, you can do this as a new adult, or when you reach a huge milestone in your life. Don't worry about having to take incredible care of it, these seeds are magical and are often deeply connected to you. They grow as you grow, and if they get sick, you can be assured that they'll be taken care of by the garden spirits of the forest.

There aren't many dragons to be found. There be different types of dragons, but their lifespan varies quite a bit between them.

Same for the dryad. There's nobody else quite like you, and if there is, they're usually no bigger than the size of your palm. Tiny, squeaky things.

I know I have more things sitting in the brain, but I need to prodded at to really remember. So, if you want to poke at my brain, be my guest!

#noir-drabbles #noir-drabbles exclusive #oc #reader insert #original character #drabble #iron valley #iron valley rpg #arbor hills #noir.ah #solo rpg #solo ttrpg #noir.drafts #drafts

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macaroni-rascal · 5 months ago

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I hate to say it, but Bridgerton has got to be one of the most uneven-quality pieces of media I've ever consumed. The way it can go from brilliant scenes with exquisite acting and writing and turn around a second later and have CWcore levels of manufactured drama and hokey performances. I'm utterly bored one minute and enthralled the next. They spent so much time building up Cressida but she just ended up being more of a plot device than a character and was unceremoniously discarded the second she'd served her narrative purpose. Kate has kicked Anthony out of bed TWICE this season, whymst? Couldn't be me. And the sheer whiplash from the slow burn Polin deliciousness in P1 to the overcrowded and crammed P2 where almost no moment could be earned or savored because the season should've been at least 10 episodes instead of 8. There's incredible detail and insane craftsmanship to all the design of the show but such silly continuity errors that I sometimes wonder if the different departments even talk to each other. On a certain level I should know what to expect from a Shondaland production at this point in my TV watching career, but I can't help but think that the show never *truly* reaches its full potential. It's just such a mindfuck that a show can both be junk food for the brain *and* approach generational cultural milestone status. I appreciate so much of it but at the same time I want to change so many things, especially surrounding pacing and focus, it's infuriating.

Here's my take: I think it's a show to watch with soft eyes.

I agree with you on almost everything, but I also don't want to take the show too seriously, because I'm just here for the dumb fun regency romance of it all. If I really dove deep I would 100% change stuff, but I'm making the conscious choice to just float on the surface of the water and go 'ohhhh pretty girl in pretty dress getting loved up! ohhh ball gowns! ohhhh drama! angst! hands kisses!'

I could also spend hours on the Shondaland of it all, but I would rather just stare at gifsets of Colin and Pen being in love/adorable/hot with each other, so that's what I'm gonna do. Not trying to yuck your yum, feel all your feelings and think all your thoughts. For me, personally, some media avails itself to closer inspection, and some of is just fluff that makes hearts happy as long as you don't look too close.

#bridgerton!#it all boils down to: im here to have a good time and im gonna choose to have a good time #i def wish we had more pen and colin in the back half #and we spent too long on side stories #but i felt that last season with kate and anthony too #bridgerton has a business problem #they need to pair down #but they dont #so thats okay #i'll enjoy what we were given and will probably enjoy season 4 when it comes it in 54 years

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tonydaddingham · 1 year ago

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I would not be surprised at all if this turned out to be The Fanservice Season of all time and mostly fluff, because Gaiman said that a season THREE would be an adaptation of the planned sequel novel. This is more like,,, an intermediate setup for the sequel. And I also heard that some stuff got cut out because of COVID complications. So on one hand I'm kind of, worriedly, expecting a dip in quality with S2; but it makes me wonder if we're going to get any real answers at all until the very last minute.

hey anon, evening!!!✨ not sure if you necessarily asked for it, but here's my take on what you've shared💓

i hear you re: concerns, and i think that is a risk with any sequel; that it won't carry the same panache, or quality, or heart and soul of what the original source material was or meant to be. this fandom is incredibly fervent and enthusiastic and every single one of us wants it to succeed, so it's only natural that the fandom might carry these doubts to varying degrees. the concern is usually only meant out of the sheer hope that it will be a fitting continuation of this hugely loved and magnificent book and series, rather than out-and-out pessimism that by nature of being a sequel, it was always doomed to failure.

the concern isn't unfounded... on paper. COVID had the potential to be fatal to elements of the tv/film industry, and certainly the way it works has since changed dramatically... some of it for worse, some of it for better. as you say, neil has been really candid that it affected the budget of s2 and therefore posed certain limitations, but i truly don't think it's going to be to s2's detriment. there is also the fact that there is no novel from which s2 will be adapted. however, that novel started in neil and terry's minds, the same genesis as s2/s3, and regardless of terry sadly having since passed away, it will always be the story they want or wanted to tell.

frankly, i think neil is naturally the no.1 fan of the story they built and were planning to build together (would be alarming if he weren't!) and obviously cares very deeply about not only it and its characters, but also the legacy that it embodies. if neil states that he's happy with, and proud of, how s2 turned out, im more than inclined to trust and believe him. he has the highest stake out of anyone else involved; cast, crew, studio, or fan.

exposition in books (from the uneducated, inexperienced view of this reader) is arguably easier to navigate than translating the same to screen. you have a literal narration in books as opposed to it being optional in tv (eg god in s1), whether that be 1st/2nd/3rd person, a central character or side character, whoever. so, elements like thought processes have to be acted out through an experience or as dialogue, rather than an inner-monologue recollection. a memory has to be actualised, rather than just remembered, because we don't have a written narrative to help us. for example, in the hypothetical book sequel, aziraphale could remember the job incident with probably a one page summary, and that would get the point across - but to adapt that the screen, that's going to require a more literal depiction so that the audience is up to speed, and there's no ambiguity.

so my thought process would be that s3, yes, would have been the hypothetical second book, but for tv's sake, s2 is made from elements of the first and second book combined. as you say, it's made to build a bridge to s3 where, i imagine, the proverbial will hit the fan. all of that set up, the exposition, background narrative, needs to be laid out somewhere, and im inferring that it would be altogether too much to put into a s3. hence s2 will exist. it would be a big story to tell, and easier to do in two books than in two series.

my gut feeling is, and i totally realise a) others may not agree, and b) this may end up being wrong, but some of that set-up in s2 is going to be a major tone shift. there usually is in any show/film or book series; in the middle of the overall story, the characters are put against conflict usually not only working against them collectively, but conflict also amongst each other. i don't think it will be any different for s2; that there will be something that occurs in this series that will carry the driving emotion into s3.

i truly and honestly hope that i am surprised by the boys not having any conflict between each other (as well as conflict with Other Entities) by the end of s2, and i would love for the opening of s3 to be rooted in solidarity and togetherness between them both, but i just somehow don't feel like it will... but that's my expectation, not a certainty. in any case, regardless of the S2 Angst Debate, this season is again set up for s3, so yes - i think it's guaranteed that all of the threads from s2 will weave together in perhaps the last ten or so minutes, and the final Problem will be revealed as the "dun-dun-dun" moment to propel us into s3.

as for fanservice? id respectfully disagree, and say i don't think it will be fanservice at all. fanservice looks different for different people, and honestly nowhere more than in GO. some people will want certain romantic moments, or certain hurt/comfort moments, angst moments, intimate moments, conflict moments, historical narrative moments... you catch my drift. neil has been pretty adamant that the story and canon is where he takes it, and is pretty upfront that he takes measures to avoid fans' headcanons and fic wherever possible. so actually, if someone's headcanon happens on screen, doesn't that just mean that that someone had the same thought for where these characters were going as neil did when he wrote it? that's not fanservice in my eyes, that's just being on the same wavelength as the author, and that - in my opinion - would be pretty cool.✨

#good omens #good omens season 2 #neil gaiman #hey look another essay #i am so not an expert on these matters idk why i insist on sharing my opinion #not a shitpost but its good omens babyyyy #ask

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readyplayerhobi · 2 years ago

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Because, I Love You | 03

; Jungkook x Older!Reader

; Genre: Fluff, very brief angst, smut

; Word Count: 4.1k

; Warnings: Stressed JK, penetrative sex, fingering, fantasised creampie

; Synopsis: According to society, Jeon Jungkook should not be with you. He should be with a younger, hotter and thinner girl instead of wasting his time on you. It’s a good thing Jungkook doesn’t care what society thinks then.

; A/N: Didn’t intend to write a smut scene...but I did. It was so easy to write, which was good! I hope you enjoy this chapter, if you do...please reblog and leave me comments/asks!

; Masterlist

A quiet groan from Jungkook made you shiver as the noise reverberated through his body, and in turn through your own. He’d asked if he could come over this evening, his texts coming through during your lunch hour. It was unusual, as he didn’t usually text during work hours and his lunch was an hour after your own. But you’d been able to practically feel the stress coming through his words, and you’d hoped the knowledge that he’d be able to spend the night with you might cheer him up.

He hadn’t explained why he was upset, but you had your suspicions. The weeks of talking with him before you’d gone on your first date had been filled with conversations about your lives, what you’d both done at college and what you did for work now. You were pretty settled in your career as a senior PR manager, working for a digital PR agency in the centre of the city.

It was what you’d purposefully studied during college, and you were well on your way to making a solid and long-lasting career out of it. Within a few years, you should hopefully be heading up a department in the agency, if not another agency that saw your potential. Your current role had you looking after four different company accounts with three junior PR managers underneath your tutelage and two apprentices.

Jungkook, on the other hand, was at the very beginning of his career. He was working in a gaming company located on the outskirts of the city as a 3D animator, something he’d focused on during college. Given his basic knowledge level, he was working from the bottom of the company up and was at the very bottom of the work ladder in his company. Unfortunately, he’d discovered that his company wasn’t very caring about their employees, unlike some other companies in the industry and he was struggling under the sheer weight of expectations and the level of work he was being given.

Not only that, but his supervisor appeared to have a strong dislike towards Jungkook. Why neither of you knew. It blew your mind as you weren’t sure how anyone could dislike Jungkook, but that was probably a reason all on its own. Some people were just plain cruel.

As a result, Jungkook was not enjoying work and he kept struggling. Despite your encouragement, he hadn’t made a formal complaint against his supervisor as he was convinced it would make him come across as weak or a snitch. So, instead, he was just suffering in silence at work.

It frustrated you, not because he was unwilling to do anything about it but because he was having a hard time. You fully understood why he didn’t want to rock the boat; he was young and inexperienced in the ways of the working world. He probably thought that complaining would be a one-way trip to repercussions, and you wished that you could convince him that it’s just a job at the end of the day. That there are hundreds more jobs out there, even if it’s not entirely what he wants to do right now.

But he’s not at that stage yet, so instead, you comfort him when he gets upset. Like right now.

So you’re laid out on the couch, half propped up against the arm with a cushion behind your head to give you support whilst Jungkook is sprawled on top of you. His long and lean body nestled between your legs, but with not a hint of anything sexual between you both. Your left leg is propped up, resting against the back of the couch whilst your right leg is hooked over his ridiculously tiny waist, your foot resting against the curve of his ass.

Jungkook’s arms are wrapped around you, and his face is pressed into your chest, right in between your breasts. You’d think he was trying to get away with something if it wasn’t for the fact that he’d face-planted like this half an hour ago and hadn’t moved since. Well, expect to shift his head slightly so he wasn’t suffocating, his ear resting against the soft and squishy flesh of your left boob.

He was heavy and warm on top of you, but you found the weight comforting rather than stifling. The toned planes of his muscular chest pressed into your stomach with every breath he took, and you’d shifted him a couple of times to make sure that it didn’t feel like you were short of breath.

It had been a solid half an hour since Jungkook had arrived, and he hadn’t said a word. Almost like he was just…absorbing energy from you or something, and you didn’t press him. He’d talk when he was ready, and you knew he would eventually talk about it.

In the background, the video game playthrough you’d been watching before Jungkook arrived was playing to itself, the YouTuber doing the Let’s Play chatting away to themselves whilst yelping at the scary scenes that kept happening. The scent of slow-cooked chicken stew drifted through the air from the kitchen, hints of the Korean spices and seasonings that you’d liberally added to the stew making your mouth water.

Humming quietly, you let your fingers run through Jungkook’s hair in slow, measured movements and enjoy the feel of it against your fingertips. It’s not soft, as he’d use hair gel but there’s so much of it and you love the way he seems to melt into you.

“Mmm, do that again.” He mumbles finally, practically purring the words out as you gently scratch his scalp. Grinning, you do it a second time and he shivers in response, his entire body wiggling on top of you as you do it again and again.

“Feeling better?” You ask, pressing your head back in an attempt to see his face. It doesn’t work as he’s way too far down, but he lets out a deep sigh in response and tilts his head until it’s more like he’s watching TV from your chest.

“Yeah, your boobs feel nice.” To punctuate that, he moves one hand until he can squeeze your other breast, his fingers massaging the flesh. It’s only when he pinches your nipple, his access easy due to you not wearing a bra in the comfort of your home, that you squeak and press your heel into his ass.

Laughing, he lets go before shifting until he’s half laying on you and half pressed up against the back of the couch. Tilting his head, he lets it rest on your shoulder and looks up at you with those beautiful big eyes that make you want to give him the world.

"Wanna talk about whatever upset you?" Brushing his fringe away from his forehead, you wait patiently as considers his answer.

"...no. It'll just get me going again. Not now, I'm feeling better. Swear." He gives you a smile, the dimple in one cheek deepening and you feel something within you settle at it. Sometimes he wanted to talk, and sometimes he didn't, but you'd never push him.

Jungkook settles into a more comfortable position, wrapping his arm around your stomach and slinging a muscled thigh over your own. You can't help but giggle at how his hair tickles as he pushes his forehead into your neck, nuzzling slightly.

Sighing, you let your fingernails drag over his scalp in short, lazy movements. Turning your head to the side, you press a kiss to his hair, hard enough to touch his head, before taking a deep inhale. He smells of Jungkook, the vanilla shampoo he uses combined with the candy-scented cologne he favoured. And underneath that, was his unique scent.

You'd come to adore that scent, and it immediately made your chest feel all fluttery. How had you managed to get lucky enough to bag him?

"Mmm, keep doing that." Jungkook mumbled once more, those pretty eyes closed as he tilted his head to help you get that perfect spot. It made you think of a cat or something, causing you to laugh.

"Whatcha laughing at?" Tilting his head up to you, you chuckled even more at how his lips were pursed and his brow creased. It reminded you of how he ate; the more he enjoyed the food, the angrier he looked. Something he probably didn't want to know.

But he was doing it now, and his words were tinged with a hint of a whine. Grinning, you moved your hand to let your thumb run along his cheek. There was a little stubble there and it prickled your skin. Surprisingly though, his jaw didn't look too dark. He seemed to grow hair on his body slowly, whilst the hair on his head seemed to grow like mad.

You knew because you were constantly coming across shed hair in your house. It was like having an animal in spring when they were shedding their winter coat. How he still had a full head of hair was beyond you.

"You know…I never thought you'd like being petted, it's cute." You weren't being serious, and the humour in your voice let him know. Jungkook rolled his eyes playfully and pressed a kiss to your collar bone.

"So I like being babied by my hot girlfriend after a hard day, what of it?" He smirked and took your hand before pressing it to his hair once more, encouraging you to keep playing with it. You don't say anything in response, enjoying his comfort in himself and his likes. Not that you’d deny him, he gave the best cuddles you’d ever had and in the space of only four months, you’d come to feel a little more relaxed and open with him.

It was almost like he didn’t notice the extra weight on you, though you had no doubt that he did. But he never said anything about it, nor made it an issue. Instead, you’d slowly become more comfortable with him being around your body, almost enjoying the way he seemed to worship it sometimes. Certainly made you feel like a goddess, as cliche as that sounded.

At the same time, you didn’t make an issue of his muscular frame to him. Whilst you could tell he was proud of it, he never mentioned it and seemed to actively ignore it on occasions. So you didn’t mention it either, apart from the occasional compliment when you were in the middle of sex. It was nice to just be with someone who didn’t boast about his own body and didn’t make comments about yours.

The two of you slip back into silence, and you wonder if he’s fallen asleep given the slow and steady pace of his breathing. It sounds the same as when he sleeps at night, long inhales in with the slightest hint of a snore and then an equally long and heavy exhale. But then he jolts, his arm tightening around your waist as a muffled yelp escapes him.

You weren’t expecting the movement at all, and you jump in surprise as well. Glancing over at the TV, you realise he’s watching the YouTube playthrough and had just been jump scared by something in the game. Laughing quietly, you ignore his grumpy whine.

“Do you want sex?” You ask, throwing the question out there casually. It was one of those weird things about relationships for you in that asking for sex, or offering it, always felt a little awkward. You had never mastered the art of subtly implying you wanted it, and you never really got the message when your partner was trying to let you know they wanted it. Not unless they were incredibly obvious.

Still, you liked to be open and honest with Jungkook. Right now, you weren’t hugely interested in sex but figured he might be. He was one of those guys for whom sex seemed to relax him, making it the perfect balm to a stressful day. So you figured you’d offer it, at least.

It wouldn’t a hardship for you, not when he looked like he did and fucked like he did, but you wouldn’t be upset if he said no either.

There’s a brief pause as Jungkook considers your question, his body a little more tense than it was previously and you get the feeling he’s trying to decide if he can be bothered. As much as the media likes to portray sex as some life-changing experience that’s always sensual or fast, the reality was that sex was messy and tiring. You’d need to go get cleaned up, the two of you would likely get a bit sweaty and gross and he’d probably fall asleep after.

“Erm, do you want to?” He asks, lifting his head to look at you and raising a single brow. The corner of his bottom lip is held between his teeth as he bites it, obviously considering your question intently and you want to laugh. You’d think you’d asked him some life-changing question, not whether he wanted to get his dick wet.

“I’m easy. Whatever you want, thought it might help chill you out a bit more.” Shifting slightly, you look directly into his eyes and let your fingertip trail along his lower lip, playing with the lip ring you find. There’s nothing sexual behind the movement, yet you feel something against your thigh that makes you smile. He’s easy to turn on.

“Alright, if you’re okay with it. I don’t wanna move though, can we just do it here?” Jungkook asks, pushing himself up onto his elbow and looking down at your body. For a moment, you contemplate whether you want the potential problem of a wet spot on the couch. It’s a fabric couch, and that would be awkward.

“Yeah okay, but from behind. I don’t want to have to clean the couch later. You got a condom?” You ask, internally chuckling at how practical the conversation between you both is. Lifting your hips, you wriggle until your underwear and sweatpants are past your hips and butt before quickly pulling them off your legs and dropping them to the side of the couch.

“Yeah, in my wallet on the table.” Rolling onto your right side, you reach out to the coffee table and grab his wallet. Opening it up, you pull out the foil-wrapped square before yelping as Jungkook accidentally knees you in the back as he manages to get off his sweatpants.

“Sorry, sorry. Give me - thanks,” He mutters, taking the wrapper from you and tearing it open before handing the empty packet back to you as he rolls the condom onto his length. “Are you gonna be wet enough?”

Before you can even say anything in response, he moves around behind you before encouraging you to lift your leg, getting you to hold it up so you’re open to the air. It’s surprisingly sexy, and you realise that you’ve not had sex with him in this position yet. The air is cool against your pussy, and you hum in consideration as you try to decide if it’s just because you’re not used to having yourself open like this to the elements or if it’s because you’re potentially wet.

Jungkook’s fingers waste no time as he slides them along the soft flesh of your pussy, his fingertips brushing past your clit and you shiver at the ghost of pleasure he causes. You feel his laugh more than hear it, his chest vibrating against your back through the layers of shirt between you both.

Dipping his fingers lower, he lets them play around your entrance, circling it before sinking a finger into you. Hissing in response to it, this isn’t his normal angle to finger you so it feels a little odd, you let your inner muscles relax around the intrusion as he slowly fingers you in long strokes.

“Hmm, you’re not wet enough.” Jungkook muses in your ear, his breath warm and you shiver in response, accidentally tightening on the long finger penetrating you. He hums a laugh before bending his finger so his knuckle rubs against the fleshy bundle of nerves with every movement of his hand. It makes you inhale sharply and it’s almost like your whole body tightens a little at the movement.

How he’d managed to learn your body so quickly was beyond you, but he was a quick study.

“Just use spit, it’ll be fine.” You mutter, pushing your hips back into him and enjoying the feel of his rigid cock against your lower back. Doing it a few more times has him hissing and rocking his hips, and you just know that a bit of spit will be more than enough to help you along.

“Nope, I don’t wanna hurt you. Spit isn’t good lube. Just gimme a few minutes, think sexy thoughts.” Rolling your eyes in impatience, you sigh and rest your head on one of the couch pillows. Admittedly, he does feel good inside you and you’re glad he isn’t so impatient that he’d risk hurting you.

So you do what he suggested and think of the last time he fucked you, which was only two days ago. He’d wanted to try it a little rougher than the two of you had been doing, wanting to slowly experiment in your still fledgling relationship and you’d been happy to oblige. The way he’d rolled his hips into you, short and sharp snaps that had his pelvis slamming into your own and his balls slapping against your pussy from his fast rhythm. It had been good…very good, his cock moving hard and fast in a way that had your breath catching in your throat.

“That’s it,” Jungkook murmurs, kissing your shoulder and continually rocking his hips into your lower back. “Definitely wetter.”

He’s right, and you can tell by the way his fingers are making squelching noises every time they slide in and out of you. Letting go of your leg, and letting it hang in the air on its own, you reach down and pull his hand away from you. The emptiness he leaves combines with the sheer desire you have for him now, something you hadn’t expected when you’d casually offered sex only ten minutes or so ago, to leave your pussy aching for something to fill it.

It almost feels painful.

“Enough, I’ll be fine. Stick it in, now.” You demand and you can practically imagine Jungkook’s wide eyes at your demand. He doesn’t say anything though, just lines up his cock to your entrance and begins to push inside.

The stretch is more than with his fingers, a thicker sensation that goes further and fills you up more than they ever could. Letting out a breathy gasp, you close your eyes and revel in the delicious feeling of Jungkook inside you, enjoying the way he lets out a quiet groan as well. God, he felt fucking good from behind.

Without asking him, you tilt your hips forward and back to fuck yourself on him, though it’s more like an odd grind on him as his dick barely leaves your pussy due to the lack of leverage. When combined with the way you squeeze your muscles on him, it has you letting out little whimpers whilst Jungkook moans into your ear.

“Fucking…shit.” He mumbles, pressing his forehead into your neck as he reaches down and lifts your leg higher. The shift in position has you stretching open for him more, the sensations unlike anything you’ve ever felt and you moan in pleasure as he starts to move. Each slide of his cock against your sensitive walls has your body twitching and tightening, none of the movements controlled by you and you simply close your eyes and let him fuck.

What had started as a simple way to let him chill out had turned a little hotter than you’d expected, and you were enjoying it if the slick sounds coming from your pussy were to be believed. And you were enjoying it, rocking your hips back to meet his thrusts and letting out a load of gibberish filth from your mouth interspersed with moans and whines. God knows what the fuck you were telling him, but he didn’t seem to be properly listening given his noises.

Soon enough, the living room was no longer filled with the noises of the playthrough on the television but the slap of skin on skin and the wet squelch as Jungkook’s dick slid in and out of your pussy rapidly, the two of you panting and moaning and gasping from the pleasure of it all.

“Shit, shit, I’m gonna fucking cum. I’m gonna cum, are you close?” He asks and you almost roll your eyes at him. His dick is good but it’s not that good. Without even saying a word, you grab his hand away from holding up your leg and press it to the swollen bud of your clit, using your fingers on top of his to show him the perfect rhythm.

Jungkook gets the hint quickly, taking over and applying the perfect amount of pressure that has you making even louder noises. He slips his fingers through your folds to coat them in the wetness you’ve produced before returning to your clit, the slickness immediately making his movements feel better and you shudder against him.

“Fuck, keep going, keep doing that.” You whimper, clenching your jaw as his cock fucks you open so perfectly, the slide of his shaft against the spot inside you combining with his incessant fingers on your clit in a perfect combination of pleasure.

How long he does that for, you don’t know but he’s suddenly grunting against you, his hips moving a little sloppier than they were and you know he’s orgasming. A deep groan, torn from his chest it sounds like, takes his breath before he presses himself firmly into you, his pelvis against your ass as he shudders with each twitch of his hips as he cums into the condom.

Despite this, he still circles your clit in the circles that you love so much. You’d never admit it out loud to him, not so early into your relationship that is, but you love to imagine he’s cumming inside of you sometimes. Like now; you try and imagine what it would feel like for him to be raw inside you and for each twitch of his cock to be him coating your walls with white.

It’s not something you’re going to tell him for a while, this is a kink that you feel you need be together a lot longer for, but it helps you cross the edge. Letting out a high-pitched moan that borders on a whine, you fall into your orgasm, rocking your hips to ride him whilst he’s still inside you to let the echoes of pleasure keep going once the first wave has passed. He’s sensitive, given the way he whines, but he doesn’t move to leave you.

Finally, though, you’re both laid there and back to reality. Breathing heavily, and ruing the fact that you’re now both far sweatier than you’d wanted to be, you wonder if sex is always going to be like this with him. This was just meant to be a quick session to let him get his stress out, and instead, he’d rocked your world and given you a fantastic orgasm.

Lowering your leg down, and wincing as it you feel the beginnings of a cramp from it being held in such an awkward position for so long, you take his arm and wrap it around your waist. It’s an odd feeling to be naked from the waist down, with him still buried inside your pussy, yet fully dressed from the waist up. Still, you can’t bring yourself to move even though you need to go pee.

“That…yeah.” Is all Jungkook says and you laugh, shuffling your upper body until you get to look at his sweaty face. He always seemed to sweat more than normal, but it looked good on him.

“Feeling better now?” You ask, smiling at him before twisting enough to capture his lips in a kiss. He kisses back eagerly, if a little lethargic, before nodding at you.

“Yeah…tired now though.”

“Well, let’s clean up and then you can nap till dinner is ready. That good with you?”

“...yeah, that’s good.”

#armiesnet #networkbangtan #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader

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jaeminscoffee · 3 years ago

Text

Colours | X. Dj

Pairing» Xiaojun x f!Reader

Genre» Angst, Fluff, Smut (suggestive)

Warning(s)» Friends to lovers trope, Xiaojun kinda loses his temper but that subdues, heavy makeout session, groping, public sex, fingering, implied sex towards the ending (open imagination since the request was kinda vague), steamy, our boi dejun get's flustered by Y/n's bubbly personality. I think that's about it. Lmao not proof read, so it will contain a hell lot of mistakes.

Wc; type» 2.06k ; oneshot

Red.

All Xiaojun could see is Red.

To have the person who dragged him all the way to some stupid reunion party against his will to abandon him in the first five minutes with the pathetic excuse of "I'll go grab us some drinks" only to never return back to his aid had Xiaojun boil with anger.

To have you smiling and laughing, clinging and grasping at a man he's never seen before is Infuriating.

To see you so smitten by a guy other than Xiaojun had him seeing crimson with comically visible smoke coming out of his ears, arms shaking, jaw set rigid with palms growing moist from all the clenching and unclenching.

Xiaojun felt yellow.

He felt insecure at how the man before you just seemed to be much to your taste.

He felt unsure of whether or not he should risk walking up to you and talk the talk he'd wanted to let out since the day you stood up for the lad. And inevitably, and much to his pleasure, stood by him in the process till date.

He felt that maybe, just maybe, he's not worthy of having a girl as astounding as you. And all that sliver of hope he'd held onto only seemed to be slipping away from his grasp.

Xiaojun felt blue.

The dreading feeling that he'd lose all that the two of you built until where your relationship stands today with a single mistake bubbles inside of him.

Watching you from afar with a man potentially your dream guy just made him feel blue. Numb, and as though a part of him was slowly chipping away.

The immense feeling of sheer sadness had him want to turn on his heels and back out to what he thinks "get out of your way" and to prevent further breakage of his heart.

Until he saw red again.

Watching you throw yourself at this stranger, arms tightly wrapped around the bastard's waist, hips joint, with his hands running through the soft curls of your tresses, "who does he think he is?"

How entitled must this man think he is to expand the white between the two of you? You and Xiaojun were meant to be and he'd only flick your head and call you stupid if you ever said otherwise.

Eyebrows furrowing as Xiaojun followed each of your actions. How your chin tucks and you hide your face in this 'dream bastard's' chest, arms idly resting on his torso, your hair covering your face from all the moving around. He kept watching you;

Until your gaze met.

Time seemed to stand still, in a much cliché fashion. Seeing the expressionless look on his face seemed to have clicked the power on button somewhere in your head.

You'd unintentionally abandoned the man you promised you wouldn't.

Almost as though Xiaojun could see the wheels turning inside your head, he sneers at you, immediately turning around to walk into a corner the moment he saw you approaching him through the crowd filled with hookers, stoners, and people too bored for their own good.

"Jun, wait up!"

He could hear your shrill voice call out to him the moment he rounded a turn. He didn't turn, however, mind clouded red, crimson and ebony with jealousy, envy and all mixed emotions, he felt dizzy.

You catching up to him only seemed to worsen his dizziness, "Jun! I-i'm so sorry i forgot about you, it's just my b-"

"Forgot about me, huh?" Xiaojun's voice comes gruff, hoarse from the inadequate usage. He doesn't bother turning around to look at you, wouldn't have done much anyways, the lighting of the area so dim, he can barely make out your silhouette.

Besides, his vision is clouded with black, wouldn't have done much anyways.

"No no, not forget forget about you! I just got caught up with my b-"

"boyfriend? Y/n, are you oblivious to not know how I feel? Am I vague? Oh I'm sorry, am I not obvious enough?" Through the darkness, you could see Xiaojun's shoulder shake, his tone strained, his head hung low, avoiding your gaze the closer you got. "Jun, what are you talking about?"

You seemed to be feeling grey, confused.

"Your boyfriend, Y/n."

"Jun, boyfriend-!" "I like you damn it!" you flinch as he abruptly turns around, the red building inside him so rapidly that it inevitably ends up exploding.

"You know I like you, no, I love you. Why else would you have been waltzing around acting like a pliant, docile girlfriend?" The grey intensifies within you the faster Xiaojun talks quick strides towards you.

Your silence and the unconscious stepping back seemed to plant a seed of yellow within him again. "You led me on. You seemingly ignored my feelings. Because you obviously know I like you, don't you?" The red appears again, mixing with the intense yellow, blending into a terrific orange as Xiaojun closes the space between the two of you with newfound confidence.

"You like me.." you whisper, your palms pressing onto the greasy wall behind you where Xiaojun had you cornered, your eyes shaking in ecstasy. He likes you, no. He loves you.

"You need to a whole 'nother level of airhead if you think i view you merely as a friend-" Somewhere in your head, you know he's talking to you, but his voice seems to numb out in the beautiful crimson that's taking over your heart, with a slight mix of elegant yellow and purple so faint it could come off as violet. "You like me!" you look up at him.

"-Yes, Y/n, keep up god damn! But do you care? Of course not! You go get yourself a boyfriend while i wallow in self pity-"

"Oh god you like me!" you bounce with all the vibrant colors swirling inside you, your arms lifting up to wrap around the lads neck, who jumps at the unexpected action, looking down at you with a mixture of confusion and slight fury.

"Does it matter, Y/n? Your boyfriend's probably looking for you now-"

"Jun, what are you talking about? I don't have a boyfriend!" you pull him down to be leveled with you, looking him intensely in the eye as you watch the familiar grey dominate his irises.

"Th-Then, that man you were all over..? You cannot possibly tell me he's not your boyfriend" he seems to be fighting to hold onto the red fury as it slowly turns into a rosy flush. "The man I was all over..?" you question seemingly to yourself, as the wheels turn in your head once again until the entire process comes to an abrupt halt at the realization hitting you.

"Jun, that's my brother! My cousin!"

The look on the lad's face is so incredulous that you break out into a cheshire grin, "you were jealous of my brother?" you giggle, as you playfully punch at his chest which deflates as he radiates bright crimson, skin heated.

"o-okay brother. brother, alright. Though, I still don't stand a chance, do i?" Xiaojun questions, stammering with embarrassment while being overcome with a sudden sense of blue. Sure you didn't have a boyfriend, doesn't change the fact that you're way out of his league.

You stare into his eyes, hoping that would somehow convey the answer to his question, but the more you just look at him, the more the light in his eyes seems to dim out.

Offering him a soft smile, which he doesn't seem to notice, you catch him off guard when you lift his head up, tilting it while pressing your lips onto his ever so gently. Providing a soft peck as you sigh in ecstasy.

You let your lips linger a little longer, silently pouring out your heart into the soft action of affection before hesitantly pulling away.

"Does that answer your question?" your gentle voice pulls Xiaojun out of his haze.

You kissed him. You like him. He stands a chance with you.

That seems to snap the last bit of self restraint in him as he captures your lips once again with much fervor. Molding his lips with yours, all signs of softness thrown out of the window as his hands circle your hips, pulling you flush against him.

The feeling of your heat encircling him makes him groan into the kiss, making a wave of shock run through your spine. The hairs on your hand standing proud as you play with the hair at the back of his neck, pulling at it.

Biting down on your lips, Xiaojun positively earns a moan from you. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into yours, easily dominating your tongue as you slowly, subconsciously start grinding against him, making him squeeze tight at your hips.

"I.. Love you.. Jun" you say in between the kiss as his hands travel further south, groping at your ass, pulling you in, supporting your grinds on his crotch.

"Fuck.." he sighs at the words, slithering wet kisses from your lips to the edge of your lips, moving onto the jaw before choosing to nip at the skin, "say it again, doll" he rasps onto your neck, while his hands sneakily makes its way under the flimsy material of your skirt, thumbing at your growing wetness while staring intently at you, silently asking for the green flag to proceed.

"I.. I love you. I love you, Xiaojun!" you nod at him while pouring all your adoration onto the lad, you'd waited too long for the two of you to take it slow from now on forth.

Xiaojun moves your panties to the side, immediately finding the bundle of nerves, pressing nimbly onto your clit, basking in your little whimpers and shakes.

He wastes no time to draw figure eights onto the sensitive bud, cooing at you while marking his territory on your neck, your jaw, the naked skin of your shoulders and collarbone, exposed by the off shoulder top you'd chosen for the evening.

"I love you, too, princess. You've no idea how long I've waited for this moment." he moans onto your neck while sliding in a slender digit into your wet cavern.

You grow frantic, soaking in all the emotions Xiaojun is pouring onto you with his actions and words, being pulled close to your high, embarrassing faster than you'd appreciate.

"You've no idea how many times I'm imagined taking you until all you can remember is my name, not even yours" he starts moving his digits after fitting in another one of his long fingers, the slick pouring out of your cunt pooling onto his palms as your moans come out as squeals. Your brain is hazing with a pleasant pink, blue and red. All of the emotions overwhelming you.

"You look gorgeous, doll face" he kisses softly at the side of your lips when you start clenching around his fingers, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap.

"J-Jun.." you sigh, face flush with content, legs shaking, your form only being held up by his strong grip, his intense gaze making you feel so small, so vulnerable, all the tell-tale signs of your orgasm nearing you present as he accelerates his fingers, clearly catching onto the fact that you'd come undone any second.

"You gonna come for me, pretty? Am I making you feel good?" he grunts while nibbling at the lobe of your ears, digits moving so fast inside your calls that you can hear the squelching obscene voices of your walls over the loud music playing in the background, his palm constantly rubbing against your clit.

"Feel's so g-good, Jun.." You grip onto his forearm to keep you grounded as your orgasm washes over you. Your jaw slacks as you convulse around his fingers. Xiaojun cooing praises into your ears as he helps you ride out your orgasm, pulling you into a kiss as you push his fingers away when he slowly drives you into overstimulation.

"Fuck, you're perfect." he stares at you with adoration while you catch your breath. Forcing yourself to step out of your daze. You smile shyly until it turns into a sly smirk as you move your hands to grab at his painfully evident dent, slowly rasping out as you move closer to him,

"Your place or mine?"

The red never felt so satisfying to Xiaojun until now.

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fumifooms · 2 years ago

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What I love about chlonath is that I think Chloe needs tough love, and I think Nath needs to get out of his shell. I think it’s underrated that Nath has flaws, as well. Hid behavior when akimatized fascinates me, it’s pretty different from other akumas we see. To me, Evillustrator feels like Nath’s true self that he has too little self-confidence to show usually. The boy’s angry! The boy idealizes superheroes! The boy doesn’t seek social relationships at all and is a loner to a fault! I looove exploring Nathaniel through fanfic and a relationship with Chloe, since in canon we don’t see very much of him. Now, it’s unconventional to heal from bullying trauma by getting closer to the bully, but idk it just makes sense to me in his case. To me, Chloe and Nath are surprisingly similar, both want the spotlight in some way (in Nath it shows in the way he wants to be a superhero and whatnot, though in his usual life he avoids it like the plague) and for both of them they crave it to bolster self-esteem and self-worth. So like, imo to start fixing both their issues, Nath needs to yell at someone and Chloe needs to be seen. Perfect pair <3

I love chlonath sm bc Chloe is a sensitive jerk and Nath is an angry softie, she can make him come out of his shell out of sheer spite and frustration and he can sweeten her and keep her in check. And this is said over, like, Nath bullying Chloe with a water gun, her screaming about her hair getting ruined, probably after she tried jumpscaring him with a ‘BOO’. He is the deadpan ‘stare into the camera like you’re in the office’ to her petty sass and banter. Nath the loser and his pathetic wet cat princess gf <3 It’s hatergirl and loverboy all over again

They have so much potential, AUs or random plotlines, oneshots and longfics, ughhh!!!!! Their angst is so delicious. Hurt/comfort? Incredible. Fluff? Oh we all need it. Slow burn romance? Oh my god I eat that up

I think they’re actually very compatible and even if it was only platonic they’d get along swell <3 You know, if he can take Chloe down a few pegs, which you know he’d love to. If you want I can give you chlonath fic recommendations! They’re just like… Messy kids being messy kids, man. Although aged up chlonath is also very fun and opens doors for more mature plotlines and themes and conflict resolutions! Oh and it’s honestly not exploited that much in the community but the fact that Nath had a crush on Marinette? Ohh it’d give her so much fear, Chloe has abandonment issues and she’d 100% be kinda afraid that Nath would be an Adrien 2.0 and that “Marinette would steal him away from her”. And that issue is interesting to have bc it means that in getting a relationship with Nath she’d have to recognize that issue, down to its roots and rip it out from herself to solve it.

I also have a chlonath spotify playlist a chlonath spotify playlist for vibes if you wanna listen! :] If you have questions or follow-up comments I am 100% open on discussing this more, as you can guess I love talking about them haha

Chloe x Nathaniel shippers, state your agenda, please and thank you /gen

#chlonath #chloe bourgeois #nathaniel kurtzberg #ship playlist #reblog addition

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goldenkirstein · 4 years ago

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She lives in daydreams with me

or alternatively, when jean and you visit Ikea

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

pairing: jean x fem! reader

wc: 1.5k+

tags: fluff, modern! au, female reader, language, mentions of food.

a/n: I was inspired by this post, also I just like Ikea, I think Jean would to tbh. am i living out my own daydreams with Jean by writing this? potentially. i love him lol. Feedback and any criticism encouraged lmao.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Your head tilted as you stared dead-on at the boy in front of you.

“Jean, what is that?”

“What are you talking about baby, this is a-” He squinted, looking at the tag, of what you assumed to be a night light?

“An-garna.” Jean looked back up at you, grinning widely.

You had come earlier to Ikea, needing to buy some storage baskets for your room, and yet here you were standing in a miniature model of a child’s room, staring at the six-foot three-man holding a children’s night light, that had...Was that panda face design on it?

“Jean, my love, my dear, we don’t have kids; why on Earth would I need a children’s night light?” The toothy grin quickly disappeared from his face, quickly replaced with a stern expression.

“Just because something is marketed towards children doesn’t mean adults can’t buy it, and anyways I was merely suggesting it, knowing how you can’t sleep after watching horror movies.” It’s more like when he can’t sleep after watching, but his ego would never let him admit that.

You rolled your eyes at your boyfriend, “put it in the cart, Kirstein.” He flashed you a smile, coming over and placing a kiss on your cheek before mumbling a small thank you.

As much as you would act annoyed or unamused when it came to Jean’s antics, it was more or less a front. You loved it when he would let his guard down in public with you. He wasn’t always like this; the Jean you met years prior would be caught dead before expressing his affections in public. He would get easily flustered, blush to sport his face if anyone he knew saw him admiring and doting on his girlfriend. It wasn’t something that deeply upset you; in a way, you were able to keep a tiny part of Jean to yourself, the goofy, tender side of him that he only let out when he was with you. However, watching him become more confident in himself and expressing his love for you outranked any desires that you had to keep Jean bottled up for your gratification.

He walked in front, long legs carrying him practically miles in front of you until he turned a corner and found himself situated in a living-room model. You followed shortly after and saw that he was making himself comfortable on a charcoal-grey couch.

“Mm, come sit,” he patted gently on the cushion next to him, gesturing to you to join him on the sofa. You raised your eyebrows and let out a giggle, situating the cart near a side table before accompanying him.

“What do you wanna watch babe,” Jean tilted his head, signalling to the fake flat-screen in front of you. You thought about tormenting the boy; however, you opted to play along with him this time.

“Oooh, I don’t know, check if the new Grey’s episode is out.” He smiled at you, appreciating your willingness to get lost in this daydream with him. His smile quickly shifted into a mischievous grin as he poked your side.

“Heyyy, what the fuck was that for!” You recoiled, shrinking away from him, but before you could get far enough away from him, he pulled you back into his side. You tried squirming away from him, only for his grip on you to get stronger, and you were met with a chuckle—the noise reverberating around the tiny living room.

“Really? Greys? On a night like this?” You shifted your body, turning your head to look at the “window” covered with sheer beige curtains, overlaid with opaque maroon ones. Outside, or rather you should say the wall was painted white, so you began drumming up a scenario in your mind. That was tonight, a spring evening, stars visible in the night sky? Or a cold and snowy winter’s night? The purple tinge of the atmosphere apparent through the translucent curtains. Jean stared at you intently, wondering what you will come up with, his gaze shifting as the corners of your lips upturned; you had settled on an idea.

“Oooh yeah, it’s practically pitch black outside; I can only see the streetlights in the distance. We should really do something about that pesky tree, though. Its branches keep tapping on the window; it’s frankly quite annoying.” A rosy tinge was present on his cheeks, hazel eyes twinkling at you.

You placed a hand on his chest, your focus entirely on the love-struck boy in front of you, “You know what? We should totally watch a horror movie!” Just as you began to immerse yourself in the daydream, Jean shot up from the couch, leaving an indent where he was sitting behind.

“Alright, enough dilly-dallying, we should go home now.” He clapped his hands together, moving to grab the cart to leave the store display.

Dilly-dallying? Did he really just say dilly-dallying?

“What’s wrong, Jean-boy? This is our home! Oooh, don’t tell me you don’t wanna watch because you’re scared.” You fell back on the couch, beaming, elbows propping you up as you teased him.

“Am not. I just decided that I’m in the mood for cinnamon rolls and fro-yo.” He placed his elbow on the handles of the cart, head resting in the palm of his hand. He gave you an unimpressed look.

“Oh really? Who’s that night-light for again? I seem to have forgotten.” This time it was his turn to roll his eyes at you. Without saying anything, he placed his hands back on the cart’s handle and began to leave the “living room.”

You swung your legs over, a giggle leaving your mouth as you walked over to your boyfriend. You wrapped your arms around his middle, resting your cheek on him. “Babe, I was just joking; I didn’t mean to upset you,” you mumbled into him.

He let out a sigh and stopped in the middle of the aisle. You watched as he brought one of his hands down to grasp one of yours that had taken hold of his waist. Jean turned to face you, head tilting as a slight smirk overtook his face. “That’s what I was waiting to hear.” He placed a soft kiss on your forehead before turning around to continue rolling the cart forward to his destination.

His arm extended behind him, motioning to you to hold his hand. You obliged, your palm sliding in his, fingers curling around your knuckles as his. “Whatever,” you grumbled, choosing to turn your head to observe the variety of rugs that were hanging on display. He tugged at your hand, an amused expression painting his face.

“You want those cinnamon buns or not, pretty girl?” The pet name almost made you choke. He knew what it would do to you. He would use it sparsely, only to coax a reaction out of you, but you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of letting him know the hold he had over you.

You whipped your head back to face him, confident to quip back at him, but it all melted when you saw the way he was looking at you; a lop-sided smirk, his tongue peeked out to wet his bottom lip before capturing it between his teeth. He raised his eyebrows, waiting for what you had to say.

“Yeah, I do.” You managed to slip a few words out. He had won this one, using his charms to debilitate any assuredness you had. He brought your linked hands up to his lips, tenderly kissing the back of your hand, humming in delight.

“You know, we should come here more often, live out our domestic daydreams together.” The smells of cinnamon buns were getting stronger as you walked on.

“Sure, but you could also just move in with me.”

The tips of his ears went red, and you paused, realizing what you just said, the weight of what you just said. You had thought about asking him to move in with you, but you didn’t mean for it to slip out in the middle of a random conversation; in Ikea nonetheless. “I- You don’t have to. I was just joking. I don’t know why I said that.”

Your voice dwindled to merely a whisper as you completed your sentence. Jean stopped the cart once more. “Yes. Yes, I’ll move in with you.” His expression was earnest as he looked at you, eyes glittering with adoration as he waited for your response.

“Whoa, whoa, hold your horses cowboy. We can talk about this after you get me those cinnamon buns you promised.” you wiped any sense of embarrassment from your face as you tried to suppress your laughter, which was caused by the zealousness your boyfriend had just shown.

However, there was no doubt that your heart did grow in fondness for Jean, and you were relieved that he wasn’t off-put by your haphazard confession. He was absolutely whipped for you, and you couldn’t deny that you were head over heels in love with him either. You desired to continue to share your life with him, and moving in together would be the next step in your relationship.

“Yes, Ma’am” His voice broke you out of your thoughts as he placed his hand to his forehead to salute you. You giggled at his actions.

“Lead the way, Kirstein.”

a/n: lol, this was practically for my own self-indulgence. and i feel like this was a tad bit ooc idk. Anywayssss, I would like to mention that I'm working on a navigation page with taglists and such and thinking about requests. I wanna branch out write for more aot characters as well as jjk and hq. Again, I'm very new to this so it's gonna take some time. I would love to know ur thoughts on all of this lol.

As always, please leave a like/reblog (i love reading tags makes me happy heh) if you enjoyed this, I appreciate lots <33

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animeomegas · 3 years ago

Note

Heya! Im a former lurker who decided to grow a pair and follow because I is so gd hard to find good gn content that makes my non binary ass go brrrrrr. Seriously its so good I constantly come back and reread your stuff to get a lil serotonin now and then.

Ps: your moronsexual itachi content gives me life because I am the moron that has religiously pushed a pull door, pulled the push door next to it, pushed it but nothing happened because in the five years I have gone to that establishment every week that door has always been impossible to move, so I try the first door and- nope I mixed the doors up the actual door is just a tiny bit heavy.

Rinse and repeat the other way when I exit.

Being a moron is a delicate and subtle art and you madame have inspired me to create a slice of life, non-massacre au fanfic where itachi falls helplessly in love with reader who is dumb of ass and pure of heart, sasuke is exasperated, shisui jokes about itachi gaining his mangekyo sharingan the moment reader gains common sense, uchiha elders trying really hard to coerce itachi away from reader but itachi is just like "they may be an outsider and an alpha, but they nearly cried yesterday because they thought they had forgotten how to read when they actually had failed to notice thay they had flipped the book upside down before opening it"

Cue the elders being like "shit he has a point"

15% crack, 15% fix it, 25% fluff, 45% itachi panicking about the sheer amout of danger team 7 gets put in throughout the first par, 100% self indulgent

Yes I had to count with my finger for those percentages, yes I double checked with a calculator, no I was not correct the first time. I have plenty of inspiration for this fic and will be continuously thinking about it for several days before putting fingers on keyboard.

Again, thank you for your service.

Love, an anon who will create a blog in your honor

Hello former lurker!! I'm glad you enjoy my blog and I'm also glad to hear from you! Your comments are so nice 😫 thank you <333

Pfft- I'm glad you like the moronsexual Itachi series, it's definitely one of my favourite things to write.

Your story idea is actually amazing and I love it, like seriously, I adore it. If you do write this, or if you want to bounce ideas off of someone, please let me know!!! I would love to read it/help with it!!!

The potential is insane for this!!!

Thank you for sharing this with me! <3

#asks #itachi

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scriptaed · 4 years ago

Text

...cause i like you?!

genre: fluff/crack; e2l!au;

pairing: jin x reader;

length: 2.1k;

synopsis: just the thought of it, no, the mere possibility of it boggles the ever so egotistical mind that belonged to kim seokjin. him? and... her? his arch enemy? his sworn nemesis whose incessant badgering he simply refuses to surrender to? struck with a capricious cold, jin’s teapot of a mind attempts to conceal its steam fall short when you pay an unexpected visit and all mayhem is set loose. when did it happen? how did it happen? no... no, it can’t be... he can’t... possibly... like her?!

You [4:05 P.M.] are you sure this is the right address????

Dipshit Tae [4:05 P.M.] yes for hundredth time

Dipshit Tae [4:05 P.M.] why would i give you the wrong address??

You [4:06 P.M.] you mean why WOULDN’T you give me the wrong address..

You [4:06 P.M.] is that loser even home?

Dipshit Tae [4:06 P.M.] yeah, he should be. he was texting me about how bored he was just a while ago.

You [4:06 P.M.] wait.. he was texting you?? I THOUGHT YOU SAID YOU WERE WORRIED CAUSE HE WAS BEDRIDDEN AND WASN’T RESPONDING???

Dipshit Tae [4:06 P.M.] uh… yeah, he was :) I swear :) which is exactly why you’re there because YOU have a car and I don’t!

Dipshit Tae [4:06 P.M.] aren't I a good wingman? :)

You [4:06 P.M.] I DON'T LIKE HIM

Dipshit Tae [4:06 P.M.] awww I can see you blushing through text you

You [4:06 P.M.] I hate your guts also why isn’t he answering the door

Dipshit Tae [4:06 P.M] he’s not?? try ringing the doorbell

You [4:07 P.M.] you think I haven’t, dumbass?

Dipshit Tae [4:07 P.M.] hold on, let me call him

"God," your breath marks the air in white puffs as you pace in place before his house, "hurry up—"

—swoosh, the door opens magically and, lo and behold, there stands the devilish man himself, Kim Seokjin… except unlike the formidable foe, this skeptical phenomenon stands before you, lips gaping and doe-like eyes widening in utter shock rendered by your presence. You only manage a quick scan of his donned baby pink bathrobe matched with pink bunny slippers until the both of you practically jump back into an ephemeral moment seemingly frozen in time.

Just as his phone rings, Jin quickly slams the door on you. His efforts prove fruitless, however, once you somehow manage to stick your foot in between his doorframe and the merciless force of his, which fortunately comes to an abrupt stop before your potential stop to the emergency room. There are trivial incidents like these—when he ignores the itch to tease you on the days you wear a frown or when he reluctantly chooses to lose an argument although you are very clearly in the wrong—that you bestow him the honorable badge of consideration… but the stubborn part of you theorizes he’s just trying to avoid a hefty hospital fee.

“Ahem, ahem,” the boy feigns a cough into his phone, “Taehyung, can’t you tell I’m sick?”

Scoffing into the air, you call out loudly, “sick enough to slam the door so hard—”

“—ahem,” he shoots you a death glare, “sorry, I’m just so very sick. Can’t talk. Need my beauty sleep. Bye—”

“—beauty sleep?! You? Beauty?”

It’s almost impossible to hold in your cackles; in fact, it takes you only a split second to surrender to the crackling fireworks of your laughter. The quip’s effect is shortly lived, however, when his unusual lengthy silence has you gradually settling into the cold winter air beside him. With his eyes glaring at you from underneath the dampened locks of his bangs clearly fresh out of the shower, it’s nearly impossible to deny the tiniest thought that flashes across your mind.

Sometimes, just sometimes, Jin’s pretty damn hot.

“Are you here to tease me or what?” he retorts, burying the phone into the fluff that is his robe. “I’m not in the mood.”

“What? Pshhh,” you wave a dismissive spare hand, “silly, no!”

“Then?” he quirks a brow whilst slowly guarding himself behind the door. “Are you here to watch me wither on my deathbed?”

“No, will you please just let me in? I’m freezing here. I heard you were sick and classes just became too quiet without you—” and when the boy remains unconvinced by your pleas, you let out a loud sigh as your hand raises to reveal a bag of much needed warm soup “—I have food.”

He immediately swings the door wide open, “come right on in.”

“Wow, so you’re not in the mood for me but you’re in the mood for food?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Rolling your eyes at his 90 degree bow, you march your way into his halls and directly to the kitchen as you have done so in the many times you had unfortunately been paired with the most self-absorbed classmate for a group project. At this point, you know his everything like the back of your hand. From his house and his obsession with pink to his hobbies and his quirky dialogue, you, his sworn nemesis, probably know him even better than his friends… and oddly enough, you take pride in that—although you’ll never admit it.

“So,” you say nonchalantly as you set out the utensils on his kitchen island, “what could possibly be going on in that peculiar mind of yours?”

“Peculiar? Aw, did Y/N just call me unique?” he snorts. “I said I wasn’t in the mood for you, not anything else.”

“Okay, so,” you gesture for him to dig in despite the evident hesitation in his eyes once he seats himself across from you, “why me specifically?”

“Cause—” he stares at you confidently but struggles to spill before playing with his spoon “—cause something’s been on my mind.”

You flash a cheeky grin, “you mean I’ve been on your mind?”

“What?!” he almost springs from his seat in absolute denial, leaning forward across the counter enough for you to take a step back. “No! Wooow, that’s just… that’s… preposterous!”

“Alright, alright, I was just joking,” you raise two merciful hands but leave the latter half of the sentiment to yourself—because who even uses the word preposterous nowadays? Your silence, however, rightfully ends when you notice him constantly probing around at the congee, as if looking for something lurking in the soup. “Don’t worry, Jin, I didn’t poison it.”

“Ah,” he nods, thereby confirming your completely accurate reading of his mind.

When another second passes and you’re finally at a loss for how to prolong a conversation with Jin, you subtly join in on his silent nods; but with each succeeding nod, you begin to notice his cheeks gradually burning a flush shade of pink much stronger than his robe.

“Jin,” you frown, “are you okay? Your face is turning really red—”

“—it’s probably the steam from the bowl,” he blurts, eyes quickly averting to his bowl before downing a big spoonful of soup into his perpetually ravenous stomach, leaving you little to no time left for you to retort. An unsettling silence follows—an undeniable rarity between the rowdy atmosphere between you two—and you begin to wonder what exactly are you staying silent for.

You can’t possibly be… waiting for his reaction to your cooking, are you? Why does it even matter to you? Why did the flow of things become so awkward? And why is he so… jumpy? Something must be definitely off today, but, oddly enough, you don’t exactly mind this change of pace from your usual bickering comedy duo selves.

Whatever it is, the silence is deafening and you swear he can even hear you gulp.

“Did you…” he scrunches his brows and sets his spoon to the bowl with a clink, “...did you cook this?”

“Yeah, I did,” you follow suit with a frown, “is there something wrong with it…?”

“Yeah, no, of course you did,” he leans back into his seat with a loud huff and a cross of the arms, “you added too much salt.”

“Hey! What’re you imply—”

“—but,” he cocks his head, frowning as he drowns himself deep in his nonsensical thoughts, “it just doesn’t make sense…”

“Hello? Earth to Jin?” you wave a hand across his lost gaze that remains affixed to his mystery of a meal. “What are you going on about now?”

“There’s too much salt in this soup. So, theoretically,” his two parallel hands tap the table sequentially, as if marking some sort of a complex timeline, “this should be a terrible meal… but…”

“But…?”

It takes everything in Jin to squeeze the grand reveal out of his zipped lips and very reluctantly so.

“But… why does it taste so good?” The utter concentration in his dartlike eyes and sheer conviction in his nearly convincing albeit silly argument makes it almost sound like he’s questioning himself, especially when he continues rambling without your response—although, really, you had nothing but a flabbergasted look. “Everything you make should theoretically taste bad but why, when it’s you and only you, does it taste… so good? It makes me—” he clutches his chest dramatically, but noticeably on the opposite side of where his heart should’ve been, and locks a quizzical, almost desperate gaze with you “—so warm and fuzzy inside?”

“You mean your heart?” you point at his chest. “It’s on the opposite side, Jin.”

“And why,” he gasps for breath like a mad man, an emotionally mad and a mentally mad man, “why do I always let you tease me? Why do I let you win? I’m Jin, Kim Seokjin, for God’s sake! I never lose! And the most confusing part of it is: why do I always supposedly smile whenever I argue with you?!”

“Oh, can confirm, you definitely do that.”

He points an accusatory finger at you, “you do, too!”

“What?” you gawk. “Do not!”

“Taehyung said so!”

“I do?”

The both of you challenge the other in a stare off, eventually and silently admitting a mutual defeat to the subtle nagging side of you that had always taken note of that true albeit irking fact.

“It just doesn’t make sense…” he begins pacing back and forth with a finger to his pursed lips. “I never had problems with my beauty sleep until I met you… I never lowered my food standards to such devastating levels until you started feeding me… I never enjoyed having someone trying to get under my skin until you came into my life… it all doesn’t make sense. The only possibility I can narrow it down to is—”

“—wait, Jin, are you—”

“—is it all cause I like you?!”

The both of your jaws drop open, possibly to the floor, staring at the other as if whatever had slipped from his mouth was the most preposterous thing he had ever suggested! In retrospect and to the general public, you know you should have seen this coming from a mile away. It’s impossible not to acknowledge the several times the lines between a vigorous argument and a flirty quarrel became blurred; but to you, the offensive enemy participating in a never-ending duel with the infamous Kim Seokjin, there’s nothing you could’ve done to anticipate this confession pulled out of thin air.

Did you like it?

The possibility of being something more than a fervent pair of enemies and a questionable pair of friends?

Your mind says it’s unsure, but your smile says much more.

You have to get out of this house, anywhere but here before the opposing enemy catches onto his advancement.

“Hey, hey, hey, what’re you smiling at? You’re the reason I’ve been losing sleep!” he warns sternly, pointing a finger at you whilst you gather your things. “Hey, you must be the reason I’m sick right now! Take accountability!”

“You mean I’m the reason why you’re lovesick now?” you stick a tongue out as you head out the kitchen and you can’t help but laugh at the way he follows like a lost puppy. “What? You want me to make more of my terrible food in return?”

“What? No, shut up! Hey, hey, hey!” he stutters over his own scramble of words, watching you pacing around his front entrance and calling out to you from the hallway. “Where are you going? I think I just confessed to you? No, I’m pretty sure I just did!”

You shrug, “and?”

“And what’s your answer?” he throws his hand in the air, as if his mental stability depended on your very response. “Is it a yes or no? Do you like me, too?”

“Umm… I don’t know,” you hum, “I’ll let you know over dinner? At 6?”

His eyes glimmer with hope, “d-dinner?”

“Yeah,” you reply with a cheeky grin before quipping, “hey, why’s your cheek so red?”

A loud huff of his follows your series of cackles and you can hear his last remark that has you undeniably smiling from ear to ear even through the closed door behind you.

“Damn it, you know it’s cause I like you!”

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werewolfdays · 2 years ago

Text

here's a prompt that nobody asked for, but I adored too much to not write some badly needed early-relationship fluff -

[ SECLUDED ] our muses are on a road trip and are forced to pull over due to heavy rain and fog, they end up fooling around in the car while they wait for it to clear up.

Rain fell in sheets so thick that I could barely see further than a few yards ahead. A powerful and unpredictable wind swirled around the car with a vengeance, threatening to force us off the road if I made a single error. We weren’t traveling faster than thirty miles an hour, but the sheer power of the storm made it feel as if we flew through a hurricane. It’s a wonder that our poor, old Bronco hadn’t been torn to shreds yet. My hands gripped the steering wheel so hard that my knuckles turned white.

“You know,” I started, sounding distracted as I kept most of my focus on driving. “Remember when you said I looked happy driving in the rain? This isn’t exactly what does it for me.”

Jayde scoffed in the passenger seat, looking about as nervous as I felt. Her muscles were coiled so tightly that she had barely moved an inch since the weather got intense. “You wanna switch?”

The tires skidded on the wet asphalt after a particularly heavy gust. My heart jumped into my throat, but I maintained control of the car. “Um, actually, I was thinking maybe we should just park it somewhere.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I saw Jayde shake her head out of the corner of my eye. “We’ll find a motel eventually.”

“It’s getting dark,” I pointed out.

“Then let me drive.”

“Supernatural night vision isn’t gonna help you with all this fog.”

She leaned forward and squinted out of the windshield. After a few moments, she grumbled and sat back in her seat. “Maybe you’re right.”

“We’ll set up the back and just ride out the storm for tonight. Like camping,” I offered with a smile.

That made her hum pleasantly. “Alright, you sold me.”

I beamed, letting some of my anxiety flow off my shoulders. Then the car shuddered and wind howled through the windows and my spine straightened once more. “Keep an eye out while I make sure we don’t die.”

“Thank god we got new tires…” Jayde mumbled.

I said a silent prayer for that, too.

We soon found a large canopy of low hanging trees that served as the perfect shelter just off the side of the highway. The added cover hid us from other cars that might drive by. Or any potential dangers that could be on our trail. Though the wild storm would make pursuit difficult on its own. I felt pretty safe in our little sanctuary.

Jayde and I worked together to set the car up for an impromptu overnight stay. We put the back seats down and padded it with sleeping bags, blankets, and pillows – all while only going out to brave the torrent of rain a couple of times. It ended up becoming an impressive nest cozy enough to keep us comfortable and happy. I kicked my muddy hiking boots off onto the floor at the front of the car and prepared to curl up beside my hearth of a werewolf.

Jayde already sprawled herself out. She propped her head up on one hand and watched as I got my side all situated to my liking. I tried to ignore the amused smirk at the corner of her mouth while I made sure I had whatever I might need within reach, but then she remarked, “You know when a dog walks around in at least a dozen circles before they finally lay down? You’re giving that energy right now.”

I threw her a playful glare. “Make fun of me all you want, but when you’re in the perfect position and then realize you forgot something, I’m not gonna get up and grab it for you.”

Her smirk widened into a grin. “I’d never ask you to get up.”

Ridiculous, I thought as I rolled my eyes and chuckled. I turned my attention to last minute checks. “Alright, I have my water bottle, book, glasses, snacks… what else am I missing…?” I brushed my damp hair back as I searched around the car. Then it clicked. “Oh! My book light.”

“You’re so beautiful when you do that,” Jayde mused.

A warm flush came across my cheeks, but I still fixed her with a quizzical stare after I retrieved the book light. “Do what? Forget things?”

“No,” she laughed. “Well, that’s a little cute, too, but I meant whenever you run a hand through your hair.”

Even though I thought the very same thing about her, I shook my head at the trivial observation. “You make it sound like I don’t even have to try with you.”

“You don’t,” Jayde answered without hesitation. She reached out and took my hand in hers. The soft stroking of her thumb across my knuckles caused my breath to stutter. “Not at all.”

My eyes were transfixed on the movement of her fingers, but once I finally met her gaze, I felt my blush grow even hotter. I learned to recognize exactly what that piercing intensity in her midnight eyes meant. I could feel her desire for me as a marching pulse in my veins. It drew me nearer. It made my insides flutter so frantically that I felt a keen ache. And I knew that ache was for her. Just as her captivating expression was for me.

The only sound came from the storm pelting heavy raindrops against the roof of the car. Everything else felt so still.

I leaned down at the same time Jayde released my hand to cup the back of my neck. The heat of her lips enveloped me in comfort like gentle flames from a campfire. I immediately parted mine in a silent beckon to experience more. A sweet, clipped breath flowed into my mouth, and she quickly put me on my back. With her weight settled on top of me, I released a satisfied sigh that drew out into a subtle whimper. Jayde wrapped her form around mine as if to keep me safe from the world. I felt untouchable by all things seen and unseen while in her arms.

The cadence of our kisses grew passionate. Every stroke of her lips felt warmer than the last. Every brush from her tongue, more eager. I could tell Jayde got lost in the sensations. I got entirely lost in them, myself. Hungry hands ran through the golden, rain-soaked tangles of her hair or caressed up and down her back as she shifted against me. I didn’t mind feeling the way her body moved in the slightest. In fact, I encouraged it.

We hadn’t gotten this intense since the night of our first date. By now, I would have slowed things down. My anxiety had a way of creeping in during intimate moments. It would whisper horrible things in my ear and strike down the confidence I slowly built up. At the back of my mind, I faintly heard those whispers. I briefly wondered if I should be concerned about them, but something bloomed inside of me, and I pushed those thoughts away.

Not this time.

Without giving myself a second to overthink it, I flipped our bodies over, and straddled Jayde. She chuckled smoothly in between kisses. “Trying something new?”

I hummed with a nod, too intoxicated to open my eyes. “Is that okay with you?”

“I’m following your lead.”

I smiled before I resumed our kisses, then pulled the both of us up into a sitting position. Jayde’s hands gripped my waist to hold me as close to her as possible. The strength and warmth I felt in her palms only increased the desire that flooded my chest. I suddenly wanted her to touch me in ways she hadn’t before. I wanted it so bad that I questioned if it was a want at all. Maybe it was a need.

I let my instincts takeover and reached down to wrap my fingers around Jayde’s wrist. With uneven breaths breaking free from my lungs, I slowly guided her hand upwards. Her fingers twitched against the curve of my side, bunching up the fabric of my sweater and hiking it up inch by inch. A sharp bite of chilly air brought a wave of goosebumps across my exposed skin, but I didn’t let that stop me. Not until the warmth of her palm flushed against my chest.

We both froze at the same time. Jayde’s breath caught in her throat and her lips remained parted against my mouth. The moment of hesitation allowed uncertainty to trickle through the cracks, but I was determined to ignore it. I will not be afraid of this. I will not let my fears stop me from experiencing everything I fantasized about. Jayde was safe. Jayde will always be safe.

I broke the tension by urging her with a delicate kiss. It seemed to pull her out of whatever stupor I had thrown her in and an unsteady exhale reminded me of the untamed wind outside. Jayde kissed me deeper at the same time her hand gave a gentle squeeze. It set my nerve endings alight. My fingers laced with hers to keep her touch right where it was. Invisible sparks raced from my fingertips all the way up my neck. I thought if we could see them, they’d light up the whole sky. Jayde seemed to drink that energy in. Her tongue graced mine and her taste ignited me from within even more.

Her electrified lips only left mine to glide over the sensitive skin along my neck. The sensation crackled up my spine with enough intensity to make me shiver. I released a whimper beyond my control and fretfully pulled Jayde against me to get impossibly closer.

She sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth. “You should stop me.”

“Why?” I asked dismissively.

“Your heart is racing, Nadya.”

I caressed the back of her neck. “Isn’t that what it’s supposed to do?”

She slowly pulled away to meet my eyes. “Not like this.”

With the absence of her touch, I realized my hands were completely numb and tingling. The way they would whenever I felt terrified. My mind lurched from disorientation as I realized how carried away I had gotten in my own attempt to push past my insecurities. Embarrassment flooded my chest. I shook my head at myself and took a few moments to regain breath. She was right.

“I want you,” I muttered regretfully.

“And you’ll have me,” Jayde softly assured. Her hand came up to brush a thumb along my bottom lip. “When you’re ready. Don’t force yourself to be ready.”

I sighed breathlessly and rested my forehead against hers. A smile, warm and grateful, found its way across my lips. Just like that, my body eased back into her arms. The familiar feeling of refuge that she gave me settled deep into my bones. The next sigh to escape my lungs was one of relief.

Jayde is safe. Jayde is always safe, My thoughts repeated like a mantra.

The rain had calmed for a few minutes, but then returned with a vengeance. Droplets from the trees were so heavy that I could have mistaken them for hale as they bombarded our car. The whole frame rocked from the harsh winds. A darkness so black and all-consuming made the outside world impossible to perceive through the fogged up windows. All of this, yet there wasn’t a single place I would rather be.

Is this what falling feels like?

I licked my lips and could still taste what lingered of her. “You know… we don’t… have to stop completely.”

“We don’t,” Jayde agreed.

I grinned again. “It’s not like we’ll get much sleep with all this racket anyway.”

She snorted and leaned back to quirk a brow. “‘Racket’? What are you, eighty?”

I scoffed in offense. “It’s a perfectly good word!” Her snicker made me laugh in exasperation. “Oh my god, forget it.”

Amused by my playful irritation, Jayde flipped us over to pin me beneath her. She buried her face in the crook of my neck and gave me feather-light kisses that made me squirm. “Oh, baby, you know how your robust vocabulary turns me on.”

“I knew dedicating myself to a higher education would make women fall at my feet,” I remarked in between giggles.

“Take me, Doctor Bishop, I’m yours,” she said dramatically and then poked the ticklish spot on my side.

My entire body jerked away from her hand and squealed laughter escaped my chest. “Stop that! You can’t play dirty!”

“Oh, I can play however –” Jayde gave me a quick peck. “I –” and another. “Want.”

The third time she kissed me, I tangled a hand through her hair to keep her there. My lips teased hers with soft strokes. I parted them just enough to let her feel my breath, but made sure not to deepen the kiss beyond that. When she leaned in for more, I gave her hair a gentle tug to hold her back. The thrill I felt when her muscles stiffened made me smile deviously.

A wolf-like chuckle reached my ears. “Now who’s playing dirty?”

“Show me your eyes,” I whispered. “And I’ll let you kiss me for real.”

I opened my eyes to see her face hovering over mine. We kept one lantern on a hook and the lowlight shrouded half of her face in shadow. Jayde’s features looked even more angular, the lines of some of her scars accentuating the sharpness that could come off intimidating to some. The midnight blue of her eyes soaked up the darkness. I could barely discern the dilated pupils that focused down on me.

Then, with a shimmer of flame, the fibers of her irises ignited into a deep molten gold. Her skin flared hotter for a few moments as I stared awestruck into her enchanting gaze. The sight excited me just as much as the first time she revealed herself.

“Amazing,” I breathed.

Jayde’s voice adopted the huskier cadence it did whenever her wolf was near. “Can I kiss you?”

I didn’t bother with a verbal answer, I simply pulled her down. My fervent cadence invited nothing but indulgence. Jayde answered with a perfect match in pace. Our lips moved together as if they were made for exactly this. She was soft and warm and sweet with just enough intensity to cause the same feeling in my veins as before. Only this time, it wasn’t too much. I felt my chest gently bloom like an oncoming sunrise, comforting me from the inside out. I wanted to be consumed by that internal light.

“I –” Jayde stuttered as she broke away.

Her golden eyes blinked in uncertainty and I became a little concerned as she struggled to find words. “What is it?”

“Nothing, I just…” She bit her lip. I couldn’t tell if the blush across her cheeks was from her wolf or something else. “I really like this. Being with you.”

My smile grew so broad that it hurt. I cupped the side of her face and traced the nearest scar with my thumb. “I really like this, too, Jay.”

Jayde’s grin matched mine and she nuzzled herself against me. I happily wrapped my arms around her and closed my eyes, letting her body heat encompass me. I breathed in the scents of pine and damp earth on her skin – of campfire smoke in her hair, and the peace that came with it all washed over me as the storm raged on around us.

#ocs #original characters #original story #original writing #my ocs #my writing #if there's one thing I'm weak for its gays in the rain #also i really love writing the dynamic in the beginning vs the dynamic years later #Nadya gradually getting more bold as time goes on..... yes #and Jayde being supportive...... yes yes #slowing things down not ruining the mood...... yes yes yes #Nadya #Jayde #Nadya pov

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ggukcangetit · 4 years ago

Text

Name of the Game: ksj fic (M)

title: Name of the Game

pairing: seokjin x reader

genre/au: Anastasia AU, fluff, mystery, a bit of angst, smut, comedy

rating: 18+

word count: 14.2k

warnings: lost identity, slightly graphic description of a car accident including mentions of blood and dead bodies, minor character deaths mentioned, mentions of nightmares, mentions of past trauma, y/n gets lost multiple times, sexual content including oral (f and m receiving), kissing, grinding, fingering, breast play, nudity, unprotected sex (PLEASE USE PROTECTION).

summary: The Hotel -Strange, The Manager - Far Too Charming, The Situation - Dire, The One in Trouble - You.

a/n: here’s my adaptation of the 1997 animated Anastasia film! the idea of the hotel was inspired by the Spanish tv series - Grand Hotel! i didn’t manage to finish this by the deadline. but it is finally over. i’m not very happy with how this story turned out but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless. this was part of the Wish Upon A Star collab featuring some incredible writers and their brilliant adaptations/interpretations of different stories from our childhood.

The address seemed correct. You had asked three people on the way over, and they had all pointed you in the same direction, accompanied by a knowing look. And in a way, they were completely correct. Concordia was a Gothic style castle, standing tall in the midst of acres and acres of lush green fields - a foreboding structure lost in time, separated from the rest of the world by sheer distance. In fact, the nearest payphone and gas station had been almost 100 miles away - which you had used to phone the Mins.

“I think I’m almost there,” you spoke into the phone, surveying your surroundings doubtfully. “I asked a bunch of people and they all told me it’s just a few minutes away.”

They had lied. It took you at least 3 more hours to bike there.

“You sure you aren’t lost, kiddo?” You could almost see the teasing grin on Yoongi’s face.

“Oh, would you look at that? My time’s almost up” - you rolled your eyes at Yoongi’s giggles filtered through the receiver - “I’ll give you a call once I find accomodation, Yoongi! Take care, and don’t swipe any more tangerines from the shop!”

“Look out for yourself, kiddo.”

You had lived with the Mins for the better part of your 21 years of existence. They had found you almost 12 years ago, sitting under a large tree, bawling your eyes out. You had no memory of how you had gotten there, or who you were - just your name and a very battered piece of sheet music in your pocket. It was solely due to the kindness of a young couple who ran a modest cafe that you were even alive at this point. Their only son, Yoongi, preferred to lord his 4-5 year age difference by calling you ‘kiddo’. You would rather die before admitting it, but you really adored the nickname.

Living life without an identity, without any roots, without a past - it was inconvenient at best, and unsettling at worst. You were eternally grateful to the Mins for everything they had done for you, but the first indication of financial distress arising from difficulties at the cafe had prompted you to pack your bags and leave in search of a job.

Concordia was a name everyone knew. It was one of the oldest hotels in the country, passed down through 4 generations, known for its grandeur, luxury, and exquisite service. But most importantly, the food at Concordia was absolutely legendary. People saved up money throughout the year, so that they could travel to the hotel and try the food just once. And as a person who didn’t have much to lose, you decided that this would be the perfect place to apply for a position in the kitchens.

What you hadn’t expected was to come across a gigantic looming structure, more suited for housing a reclusive vampire with horrible mood swings or a flamboyant literary figure prone to wild fantasies and nights of debauchery. Or both.

You had almost turned back after seeing the castle for the first time - it didn’t seem like a place you’d want to spend more than a few seconds in. But something inside you kept nudging you forward.

There were two men standing at the main doors, looking equally formidable and archaic as the building they were guarding. After a few terrible attempts at convincing them to let you in, you gave up on the idea.

You looked around carefully. Surely there was another way of getting in. Once you were inside, you could convince whoever was in charge to give you a chance. You just needed one chance to prove yourself. Just one.

Just then, a couple of people walked out using some kind of side entrance - a magnificently dressed woman and a young man with a certain swagger in his steps.

You crept over towards them, hoping that something from their conversation would help you out.

“I don’t understand why that silly girl creates such a fuss about bringing food to my room!” The woman rolled her eyes and brought a cigarette to her lips.

The young man took a lighter out of his pocket and lit the cigarette with a practiced sort of ease. “I’ll have a word with her, don’t worry.”

You strained your ears, trying to figure out just what they were talking about. Something to do with the hotel?

“But Mr. Kim,” she continued, taking a step closer to the young man. “Why can’t you bring my food up to my room?” The tone of her voice had most definitely changed, dropping a few octaves as she tilted her head to one side.

“Now, now, Mrs. Trent,” he replied, with a hint of a chuckle. “You know that’s against hotel policy.”

With that, he took a definite step back.

“Shame,” she continued, sweeping her eyes over him. “Make sure Kate doesn’t make any more mistakes with my room service.”

“Will do, ma’am,” replied Mr. Kim. He bowed to her and showed her back inside using the side entrance.

This was your opportunity.

You followed behind them, making sure to maintain a decent amount of distance, and slipped in before the large door slowly creaked shut.

The inside was comparatively more inviting than the exterior. Lanterns at every few feet provided soft, warm lighting, and the decor looked a lot more modern and familiar than expected. The side entrance opened into a sort of lounge area, filled with comfortable sofas, small wooden tables, and a few dozen bookshelves. A record player -

“Can I help you?”

You hurriedly stepped back from the person you had bumped into - the man from earlier, Mr. Kim.

“Uh…” You floundered for words, caught off-guard by how handsome he was. Chocolate brown eyes, devastatingly plump lips, ridiculously broad shoulders, and strong eyebrows - one of which was quite beautifully arched as he sized you up.

“I-I got lost. I wandered away from the lobby. C-could you”- you straightened your posture, mustering up all of your confidence - “direct me back there? I need to complete my check-in.”

Mr. Kim stared at you for a few moments. He seemed to be considering your words. You weren’t dressed half as extravagantly as the woman from before - who was probably a good example of the hotel’s usual clientele - but you somehow resisted the urge to tug at your clothes self-consciously.

“Of course,” he flashed you a brilliant smile, gesturing towards another part of the hotel. “This way, ma’am.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, quickly turning it into a cough as he turned towards you inquiringly.

“Sorry, my throat is absolutely parched.”

He smiled again. “I’ll get one of the staff to bring out some water and refreshments for you.”

You nodded weakly and stood there, trying to look like you belonged.

As soon as Mr. Kim was out of sight, you headed in the direction he had gone. Hopefully it was towards the kitchens. If not… well, you didn’t want to think about that.

It was soon evident that you were lost. Whatever this corridor was, you had no idea where it led or whether Mr. Kim had headed that way at all. Perhaps you should have waited near the front desk and thought your plan through…

“Are you looking for something?”

You whirled around at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. It belonged to a middle-aged woman, with a soft kind of beauty that had aged gracefully. You probably should have stuck to your story about being a guest who had gotten lost in the hotel. But something about her kind eyes encouraged you to tell her the truth.

“You want a job in the kitchens?” she asked, sounding a little skeptical. “My dear, there’s a way to apply for such positions. Why don’t you go back home and look at some proper avenues to apply for hotel internships?”

“Please,” you tried to keep the desperation out of your voice. “Just give me a chance. If I’m not capable, I’ll leave. But please, don’t turn me away.”

She sighed. “What’s your name, child?”

“Y/n.”

“What?” Her eyes seemed to well up for a moment, but she gathered herself quickly. “Y/n… Umm, alright. We’ll give you a try. One week. And if things don’t work out, you have to leave without a fuss.”

You beamed at her. “Thank you! You won’t regret it -”

She shook her head with a resigned smile. “Call me Yuna.”

Your first impression of Concordia had been spot on. There was something definitely off about the place. At the end of your first day working there, you noticed that all the staff seemed to get along with each other but there was a certain tension whenever the owners of the hotel were mentioned. Nobody said anything, but an uneasiness hung in the air every time.

“So tomorrow,” Yuna turned towards you. She was the head chef and you had spent the entire day observing her as she directed everyone in the kitchen. “I’m going to ask you to help Kevin with the breakfasts. It’s not too tough - but in my experience, you can tell whether someone has potential by the way they cook eggs.”

You smiled. She had a subtle sense of humor, and everyone working with her absolutely adored her. She was the mother hen and head chef all rolled into one.

“And about your accommodations-”

An interruption arrived in the form of the last person you wanted to see.

“Do we have any strawberry pastries left?” Mr. Kim asked, sauntering into the kitchen like he owned the place.

You busied yourself with some dust that had miraculously lodged itself into your left eye at that very moment, trying to appear as inconspicuous as possible. But unfortunately, those piercing eyes had spotted you.

“Look who it is,” he drawled, walking over with slow, deliberate steps. All the amiable attentiveness in his eyes had been replaced with a calculating smugness. “Our lost check-in.”

“Ah, Seokjin,” Chef Yuna interrupted your staring match. “I see you’ve met our newest recruit - y/n. Y/n, this is Seokjin - my son.”

You gulped. “N-nice to meet you, Seokjin.”

“It’s Mr. Kim or Manager Kim to you, Lost Check-in,” he said, with a definite sneer. “Mum, forget about the pastry. I have a meeting with Madam Iris in a few minutes.”

With that, he walked off, leaving you a humiliated mess. Chef Yuna opened her mouth to say something but you were off without a second thought. Manager or not, how dare he speak to you like that!

“Mr. Kim! Mr. Kim! KIM SEOKJIN!” you all but screamed, finally catching his attention. Although, if he hadn’t been ignoring you so obviously, he would’ve turned around sooner.

“What is it, Lost Check-in? I have more important things to do,” he asked, huffing much louder than necessary.

“Why did you speak to me like that?” You glared at him, trying to keep your temper in check. “I know I lied to you before but that’s no way to talk to another human being.”

He stared at you for a few moments, and once again you got the distinct impression that he could see right through you. It took all of your determination to not break eye contact.

“Because,” he whispered, leaning in closer. “You aren’t a guest here. So I don’t need to be nice to you. Do you understand, Lost Check-in?”

You stood rooted to the spot, goosebumps breaking out all over your body.

“S-stop calling me that!” you yelled, long after he had walked off.

Concordia belonged to the Chavalenet family. Madam Eva Chavalenet, the matriarch of the family, was silent, formidable, and barely ever seen by any of the guests or staff at the hotel; Madam Iris Farrow, Eva’s daughter, was intelligent, graceful, and extremely beautiful. She ran the hotel along with her husband, Anthony Farrow, who was the family’s solicitor. Iris and Anthony had an eight year old son - Ryan - who was an absolute terror, and someone Seokjin did not like having around.

Unfortunately, management meetings meant that he would be seated at the antique dining table in the Chavalenet’s residential quarters, trying his best to avoid whatever it was that the young heir would try and lob at him, while the boy’s mother rattled off a long list of things for him to take care of. Seokjin couldn’t understand why none of the members of the family attempted to, or even wanted to, keep the child under control.

“Seokjin,” Madam Iris began the meeting, pulling out her expensive looking reading glasses out of her equally expensive looking purse. “The last few months have not been good for the hotel. We will need to have some layoffs.”

Seokjin kept his expression neutral. This wasn’t the first time staff had been laid off over the past year. Whoever was managing the hotel’s accounts was either doing a terrible job, or the expenses had truly outrun the income they generated from the guests. The former was the more likely possibility because people paid a pretty penny to come and stay at Concordia, and as far as he could remember, business had been booming since he had been promoted to manager two years ago.

“We’ve reviewed the staff’s evaluation forms and come to the decision that housekeeping and kitchen staff need to be reduced by 8 overall. We’ll leave it up to you to make the final decisions.” She looked up from the stack of papers in front of her and gave him a small smile. “It’s going to be difficult, so make sure to consult Chef Yuna and get her opinion on the matter as well.”

Management meetings always proceeded like this. Madam Iris gave him orders, Anthony Farrow agreed to every word she said, and Madam Eva remained unyielding in her silence. Previously, the Assistant Manager would also join these meetings - but ever since the position had been terminated, it was always the four of them. And that annoying brat, of course.

“Before I forget,” Anthony said, turning his gaze towards Seokjin. “Make sure the sheets in our room are washed with the new ultra fine formula detergent.”

Seokjin’s jaw ticked in irritation. Anthony Farrow had married above his station, doing everything that his wife and mother-in-law asked him to do. It was only while interacting with the hotel staff that Anthony found his voice and used it with incredible high-handedness.

“Darling, don’t bother Seokjin like that.” Madam Iris understood the strategy of appeasement very well. “I will speak to Helen when she comes up to our room tomorrow morning.”

Usually, this was when the meeting would end and everyone would head back to their rooms.

Today, however, there was an unusual interruption in the form of-

“I’m so sorry! I got lost on the way to the kitchens!”

Seokjin stared in astonishment as you hastily tried to explain why you had quite literally stumbled into the management meeting. It wasn’t that you were doing a bad job of it, per se… It was just a very tough crowd.

“How long have you been working here, girl?” snapped Anthony.

“I’m new,” you answered, shortly.

Before Anthony could express his outrage at the tone of your response, Madam Iris stepped forward and surveyed you carefully. “What’s your name?”

“Y/n.”

Something flickered in her gaze but she masked it quickly. “Well, y/n, this is very disappointing indeed. Usually our staff know how to conduct themselves in front of the guests and the owners. I’m afraid-”

“Let her be.”

Everyone’s attention snapped to Madam Eva who had spoken for the first time that night. In fact, Seokjin couldn’t remember the last time she had spoken voluntarily in the first place.

“Mother?” Madam Iris looked confused.

“The meeting is over. No need for unnecessary fuss.” Her tone was final and no one dared say anything after that.

Seokjin wasn’t sure if you understood the significance of the moment. But before any further damage could be done, you had excused yourself with an apology and left the room.

You woke up early the next morning, partly because of another nightmare and partly because you were anxious to get to work on time. Chef Yuna may have taken on a complete stranger the day before, but you were pretty sure her kindness wouldn’t extend any further if you messed up.

On your way to the kitchens, you found yourself lost once again. It was the hotel’s fault, really. It was far too large and had one too many winding corridors. How did the guests find their way around without getting hopelessly lost? Was there some sort of map that was given out to them at the time of check-in?

A sudden movement from a few feet away caught your eye. It was a shadow - which meant that there was someone moving about in the alcove.

Curiosity got the better of you and your feet headed towards the person, wondering who it-

“Mr. Kim?!”

There was no mistaking those broad shoulders. Kim Seokjin stumbled slightly, startled by your presence.

“I-I can explai-” he stopped abruptly when he realised it was you. “Oh, it’s just you.”

You glared at him, offended by his tone. “What were you doing just now?”

“I wasn’t doing anything,” he shrugged, attempting to leave without divulging any more information.

“So you just skulk around dark alcoves indulging in shady behavior for no particular reason?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It was so easy for him to regain control of the situation with that penetrating gaze and intimidating body language. “But more importantly, what are you doing in this part of the hotel?”

“I got lost again,” you muttered, looking away in embarrassment.

“And instead of being thankful that you bumped into someone who could help you find your way back, you’re accusing me of - what was it? Ah, that’s right, ‘indulging in shady behavior’,” he emphasized the last few words with air quotes.

“As if you would have helped me!” you retaliated. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you sent me off in the complete opposite direction and made sure I never found my way back again!”

“I wouldn’t have,” he said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “But now that you’ve brought it up, I’m going to do precisely that.”

You gaped after him. What exactly did he have against you?!

“If you don’t take me back to the kitchens,” you said, making him slow down. “I’ll tell Madam Eva that you were lurking about in places you have no business being.”

It was a long shot. But something about the atmosphere the previous night had indicated that Madam Eva’s approval was hard to come by. And the entire room had been quite shocked when she had asked for you to be left alone.

Seokjin stopped and turned around slowly. Your threat seemed to have done the trick because he didn’t look quite as smug as he had a few moments ago. “Fast learner, aren’t you?”

You held your ground, determined not to be shaken by his intimidation tactics.

“Fine. Let’s go.” He began walking again, in a different direction this time.

You held back a grin and followed behind him.

“But if you ever” - he whirled around suddenly, taking you by surprise - “think of blackmailing me again, things will not end well for you. Understand, Lost Check-in?”

Overall, your second day working at Concordia had not been very eventful. Chef Yuna had been very pleased with how you had prepared the eggs and potatoes for breakfast. She was looking more inclined to keeping you on permanently. Besides that, not much had really happened. You found out more about your coworkers - Kevin, Michelle and Laila. All three of them had been working there for more than two years and seemed likeable enough at first glance.

Chef Yuna herself was something of a genius in the kitchen. While she didn’t cook often, her instructions were impeccable, and the one dish that she had cooked for dinner had been so incredible that five guests had sent back compliments to the chef. On top of that, her pleasant personality made her a hit with almost everyone.

You could see where Seokjin got his charms from. He had a way of drawing people towards him with a combination of beautifully arranged words, intuitive actions, and overall handsome aura.

Although, there was something slightly sinister about the way he operated. You realised that the incident with Mrs. Trent had not been a solitary one. Manager Kim regularly charmed gifts, favours, and cash out of the guests. You had observed him on more than a couple of occasions, just chatting with some guest, and before you knew it there was something small being passed into his hands. And it wasn’t just women who gave him things either.

“I hope you enjoyed the classical music session in the grand hall last night, Mr. Cowen,” said Seokjin, talking to the elderly gentleman seated near the balcony. “There’s another one scheduled for the end of next week, if you’re still staying here at that time.”

Mr. Cowen seemed utterly delighted to hear this, and not only extended his stay at the hotel but also pressed a rather thick envelope into his palm. No doubt, this was a regular occurrence because Seokjin was just incredibly smooth at handling everything that people handed to him.

You made it a point to avoid him as much as possible. And your little stunt that morning had also ensured that Seokjin left you well alone. All in all, it was an arrangement you were quite happy with.

“Y/n, don’t forget about tonight!”

You turned towards Laila, confusion lining your expression.

“Tonight?”

Laila rolled her eyes. “I told you about it yesterday, remember? We have a staff gathering every Friday evening! It’s basically a small party where we eat, drink, and dance to music on the manager’s boombox! It’s a lot of fun!”

You scrunched up your nose at the mention of Seokjin. But Laila looked so excited that you figured it was worth going to. Not that you had any other grand plans for the evening…

“Sure! Where does the party usually happen?”

“There’s a large unused room below the lobby,” explained Laila, eyes sparkling in excitement. “The Chavalenets don’t keep any hotel events there because it’s on a lower level, so we take advantage of that and have a good time there instead!”

“Sounds fun! I’ll be there!”

“Oh, and don’t forget to dress up!”

You stumbled on thin air. “Dress up?”

“Of course! It’s a party, y/n!”

“I don’t have any fancy clothes…” you mumbled, scratching the back of your neck.

That did not seem to faze Laila. “Well, it’s a good thing I have tons to spare!”

Later that night, you walked into the forgotten room below, dressed in a knee-length, midnight blue dress courtesy Laila. She had insisted on you wearing a pair of sparkly earrings as well, claiming that you absolutely could not proceed without it because it matched the little sparkles in your dress.

You were quite glad that you had followed her advice because everyone else clearly took these small Friday gatherings very seriously. In fact, this party turned out to be the most free-flowing gathering you had encountered since stepping into the hotel. Gone was the stiff, unnatural feeling that usually clung to the atmosphere. Replaced, instead, by normal conversations, comfortable interactions, and a general feeling of warmth and comfort.

“Y/n, you look beautiful!” Chef Yuna walked over to you with a big smile on her face.

“Thank you! Though, I’d say most of the credit goes to Laila for letting me borrow her dress.”

Chef Yuna laughed and pointed you in the direction of the snack table. Your eyes sparkled at the sight of every dish sitting there - shrimp appetizers with a subtle garlic dip, baskets full of freshly baked bread rolls, two large bowls of salad, slices of turkey, chicken, and salami, and a very delectable looking cake with fresh cream and strawberries.

“Y/n, where did you learn to cook? Do you have any formal training?” Penny, who worked at the front desk, had only spoken to you in passing before.

“Oh, the family I lived with owned a cafe,” you said, sipping the punch slowly. It was a little too tart for you. “I used to help out a lot here and there, and eventually got quite interested in cooking. But I don’t have any formal training.”

“That’s odd.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Penny shrugged her shoulders. “You don’t have any training or experience, but Chef Yuna still hired you. I can’t see why.”

“Well, I’m grateful that she gave me a chance,” you said, a small frown gracing your features. “Otherwise I’d be unemployed and homeless.”

Penny took this as an indication to leave. You wandered around the room, avoiding people, and mulling over her words. It was a bit odd that you had been hired. Although you had tried to keep yourself from overthinking the reason behind it, now that Penny - a relative outsider - had pointed it out, you felt a little uneasy. Surely, there wasn’t a sinister motive involved…

“Shoot! The tape’s jammed!”

Kevin fumbled with the boombox, trying to open it and take the cassette out. A mass of wriggly black tape shot out after a few moments, startling him enough to make him lose his balance and fall on top of Laila.

“My dress!” Laila yelled, as the punch spilled on her cream colored outfit.

“I’m so sorry!” Kevin hastened to get off her, and looked around helplessly.

“Let me take a look at it,” you came over, inspecting the tape and boombox. “I can fix this but I’m not sure about your dress, Laila.”

Kevin was relieved that the tape emergency was over, but one look at Laila’s furious expression wiped the relief off his face. Chef Yuna placated Laila with promises of a home remedy for the stain, while you busied yourself working on the boombox.

Yoongi’s obsession with music, and any and all technology related to music, meant that you had seen him fixing countless tangled cassette tapes before. The boombox hadn’t eaten any of the tape, thankfully, so you looked around for a pen or pencil with which to wind the tape back into place. There didn’t seem to be any in the room, but Michelle told you that there was plenty of stationary in the backroom of the kitchens.

While walking up the stairs, you noticed something moving about in the shadows. Was it Seokjin being shady again? Surely not…

“UGH!!!!!”

Alas. It was exactly that.

Well, not exactly. This time around, something had frightened him so much that he had let out an almighty shriek, jumped two feet into the air, and accidentally hurled a large bunch of keys in your direction.

You realized it was accidental because a few seconds later, Seokjin’s frantic voice could be heard searching for the keys.

“Where is it?” he muttered, crawling on all fours.

You contemplated giving him back the bunch without any fuss. But the image of his annoyingly handsome face staring at you condescendingly made you reconsider your course of action.

“What’re you doing?” you asked, walking up to him slowly.

Clearly, the man didn’t do well with sudden noises because he let out yet another loud yelp and fell on his backside.

“What’s wrong with you?!” he demanded. “Why would you sneak up on someone like that?”

“I was walking by when I saw you being shady again. And for the record,” you added, kneeling down beside him. “It wouldn’t feel like I was sneaking up on you if you weren’t sneaking around yourself.”

He frowned at you, and you realised that he was still in his formal work clothes. Although, you could tell that he had been rummaging about for quite a while because his shirt had come untucked and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. You tried not to let the pronounced veins on his arms distract you. The last thing you needed was for his obnoxiously large ego to become even more bloated by realizing that you found him extremely attractive.

But really, you didn’t need to worry about him realizing anything. For Kim Seokjin was busily trying to comprehend the fact that you were wearing a relatively short dress and kneeling down next to him. Never before had he contemplated how long and slender your legs were - but now that he had caught more than a glimpse, he couldn’t quite get those thoughts to leave him.

“What were you doing, anyway?” you asked, realizing that no one had spoken for a significant amount of time. “I’m beginning to think you’re either a sleepwalker or a very clumsy pervert.”

That seemed to snap him out of it. He got up quickly and dusted his pants, glaring at you the entire time.

“Neither. And you need to mind your own business, Lost Check-in.”

It was your turn to frown. “Stop calling me that.”

“Stop getting in my way,” he retorted.

“Tell me what you’re up to.”

“Or else what? You’ll get me into trouble?” he sneered.

You smirked and brought the bunch of keys out from behind your back. “Not at all. I’ll just keep the hotel’s main set of keys to myself and watch you get yourself into trouble.”

“Give that back!” He lunged at you, trying to get the keys back.

You should have thought this through more thoroughly. The initial advantage you had was now gone, and instead, the man before you was able to use his height and ample shoulders to his full advantage and trap you against the wall. You held the keys behind your back, determined to keep them away from him as long as possible.

Now that you were backed up to the wall, Seokjin had to press himself flush against you in order to get closer to the keys. His hands moved wildly, trying to feel for the keys and brushing against your thighs instead.

The sudden contact made you jolt upwards, knocking both your heads together and temporarily ceasing the fight.

Although, if anyone had seen the two of you, they definitely wouldn’t have thought you were in the middle of a fight - the angles and movements were much more like two people feeling each other up very heatedly.

“You’re such a pain,” Seokjin muttered, rubbing the spot on his forehead you had bumped into. The tips of his fingers were placed very gently against his forehead, but somehow the movement itself was extremely aggressive.

The image was so bizarre that you burst into giggles, doubling over and collapsing onto the floor. He stared at you for a few moments before the corners of his lips started twitching upwards as well. Sighing slowly, he sat down next to you.

“You’re very strange,” he said, though it lacked the usual crisp annoyance.

“You’re one to talk. Lurking in shadowy corners on more than one occasion,” you retorted, giving him a pointed look.

He sighed. “If you must know, I’m looking for the treasure.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “What?”

“Growing up at the hotel, I had always heard about rumors of a great treasure that was hidden somewhere here. Mind you, no one really knew anything concrete about this treasure. But the rumors were always fantastically exciting.” He paused, leaning his head back against the wall.

“If you’ve known about it for so many years, why are you searching for it now?” you asked.

“Because I don’t think the hotel will be running much longer.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. “Why not?”

“Financial problems. I won’t bore you with the details, but it’s not been looking good for the past year.” A sad smile graced his features. “This hotel is my home, and it feels weird to think about a time where it won’t be a part of my life anymore. But I have to plan for the future, look ahead and make sure there’s a plan b in case the worst comes to.”

You remained silent. How were you supposed to respond to this?

“Anyway,” he continued. “Can I have the keys back?”

You looked at him, surveying his features closely. Once you moved beyond how handsome he was, you could see the determination in his eyes as well. This man was a survivor - just like you. That’s why you decided on your next course of action.

“I’ll help you.”

He blinked a few times. “Huh?”

“I’ll help you,” you repeated, handing the bunch of keys to him. “I’ll help you look for the treasure.”

It had been a week since you had started working at the hotel. Chef Yuna was satisfied with your work and hired you on a six-month contract.

“That way,” she said, while passing the contract to you. “You are free to leave the hotel if you find somewhere else you want to join. If not, we can just draw up another contract for you to continue.”

You smiled at her. She really was a very kind and compassionate person, who always looked out for the people around her. Unlike her son…

Although maybe Kim Seokjin wasn’t as bad as you had originally thought he was.

“Lost Check-in! Don’t you look lovely today!”

Correction: he was just as bad as you had thought.

“Can you not breathe down my neck, Manager?” you said, through gritted teeth. He was currently standing right behind you, staring at the soup from over your shoulder. The close proximity meant that you could feel his breath on your neck - which was extremely unsettling.

He backed away a little and stared at you with mischief dancing in his eyes. You frowned and crossed your arms across your chest, anticipating some kind of sabotage. And sure enough, he suddenly leaned forward, brushing his lips against your ear.

“Do you know where the gummy bears are?” He pulled away slightly, tilting his head and gazing at you inquiringly.

“The gummy bears…?” you repeated, slightly dazed by the sensation of his lips on your ear.

He grinned and flicked your forehead softly. “I’ll just ask Laila.”

Apparently, Seokjin had a slight gummy bear addiction. Chef Yuna had banned any sort of gummies from the kitchen for that exact reason. Somehow, Seokjin managed to overcome that obstacle as well - he would ask the grocer to smuggle in his favorite rose colored gummy bears, even going as far as saying some guests had requested it but wanted it kept a secret.

Laila, who you thought had a pretty obvious crush on Seokjin, was chosen as the gummy guardian in the kitchen, and occasionally, Kevin also helped hide the stash when things got too chaotic. It was only Michelle who would possibly disapprove, and therefore, was kept completely in the dark.

“What was the manager talking to you about earlier, y/n?” Michelle came over to you after tea had been prepared for the guests.

“Oh, uh-” you saw Laila desperately shaking her head from behind the counter. “Nothing in particular. He was just being tiresome.”

Michele frowned but nodded her head. “Okay. Just don’t fall for what he says, okay? Do your job properly and listen to Chef’s instructions. Everything will be fine that way.”

You nodded your head. What a curious thing to say… You wondered what had brought about this response from Michelle. Everyone in the hotel seemed to be very fairly fond of, if not incredibly smitten with, Seokjin. This was the first time you were witnessing such an explicitly negative response towards him. Even Madam Iris and her husband maintained a level of aloofness associated with the upper class.

“Why does Michelle hate you?” You were standing next to Seokjin as he tried to jimmy the lock on a random cupboard in some random room. You still hadn’t been able to figure out what his process for finding the treasure was - it just seemed like a bunch of inaccurate guesses. But at least he had finally relented to your persistent nagging and asked you to join him on his next escapade.

“Why do you think she hates me?” he asked, frowning as the lock wouldn’t budge. When you didn’t respond, he turned towards you and chuckled at the skeptical expression on your face. “Okay yes, she isn’t particularly fond of me.”

“I figured that much out myself, funnily enough. What I’m asking is why?”

He hesitated a little, as if trying to find the right way to explain the situation. “Michelle and I were - uhm - we had a brief dalliance a couple of years ago. In fact, it was right after she had started working here. Things didn’t end well…”

You pressed your lips together, desperately trying to keep a straight face. It didn’t help that the tips of Seokjin’s ears had started to turn red as he finished recounting his story.

“You played her, didn’t you?”

“No way! I would never-” he stopped, realising that you would not fall for his stories. “Yeah well, it’s not like I promised to marry her or something! We just kissed a few times and she helped get a couple of persistent guests off my back.”

“Yeah, you played her.”

He sighed, pushing past you on his way out of the room. “Whatever.”

It was incredibly amusing to see him annoyed and flustered like this. You made it a point to find out a few other things that would possibly elicit the same reaction from him. Maybe there was a particularly scandalous gummy bear story you could wedge out of Laila.

Just as you both rounded the corner, something small and fidgety dashed into you, successfully knocking you off your feet.

“Hey! What the hell?”

The bane of every hotel staff’s existence, the reason why a large crate of tomatoes had rolled down the main flight of stairs, the culprit behind the large pudding stain on the special ivory tablecloths, the spoilt young heir of the hotel - Ryan Farrow sat on the floor opposite you, seemingly delighted about the fact that he had managed to topple a new victim.

“Watch where you’re going, kid,” you said, trying to keep your temper in check. You had heard dozens of stories about the terrors unleashed upon your coworkers by this child, and even though this was your first direct interaction with him, you were already extremely annoyed.

“You watch where you’re going, old lady!” he yelled, scrambling to his feet and sticking his tongue out.

“I am not an old lady!” you yelled, chasing after him as he began running off in the direction he had come from. “Hey! Get back here! You should say sor-”

The sight of a very displeased Madam Iris stopped you in your tracks. Ryan grinned at you from behind his mother, made a series of unfortunate gestures, and ran off before you could chase after him.

“Y/n,” Madam Iris spoke with a calmness not reflected in her eyes. “I’m not sure I understand what you were doing just now.”

You stood still, knowing that she had more to say, more excessively long sentences to use, more haughty expressions to display.

“I can’t imagine that you’d be chasing my son around the hotel,” she continued, raising a thin eyebrow. “Yelling at him to apologize to you. What exactly would my son need to apologize to you for?”

“I wasn’t yelling at him,” you replied, stiffly. “He was too far away so I had to speak loudly. Also, he was running through the corridors very fast and could’ve hurt himself along with someone else. I was ju-”

“How dare you?” she frowned at you. “How dare you think you have any right to tell my son what he can and cannot do? This is basically his hotel. You work for him as much as you do for me and my mother.”

You bit your lip harshly to stop yourself from saying something that would land you in further trouble.

“If I ever see you treating my son like that ever again,” she looked you up and down with a disdainful expression. “I will have you sacked immediately. Understood?”

You didn’t trust yourself to say anything more. Madam Iris gave you one final look of disapproval and walked off.

“That was quite something.”

You groaned and buried your face in your hands. “I don’t feel like listening to your bullshit right now, Seokjin.”

After getting no response, you removed your hands from your face, only to be greeted by a large hand full of rose gummy bears. Seokjin stood in front of you, wiggling his eyebrows and nose, trying to indicate that you should take some of the gummy bears from his hand.

He looked cute.

“Is there something wrong with these gummy bears?” you asked, once you had recovered from his oddly endearing actions.

He frowned, a soft pout forming. “I’m appalled. Whatever differences we may have, Lost Check-in, I would never put my precious gummy bears in danger.”

You remained unconvinced, so he picked up a single gummy bear between his thumb and index finger, and popped it into his mouth. After a couple of chews, he thrust the gummy bears towards you, gently bobbing his head up and down to signal to you that it was safe to try some.

You rolled your eyes and picked up a couple of them. Seokjin was watching you intently, trying to gauge your reaction to his favorite treat.

Your first instinct was to say that you hated it - it would be so much fun to watch his disappointment. But his large brown eyes were filled with a clear emotion - anticipation - the kind you feel when introducing your best friend to something you love. At least, that’s what you’d imagine the feeling would be, because you never really had a best friend before.

“I like it.” It was a simple statement but somehow, it managed to earn a full-blown smile from him.

“Excellent! I knew you’d like it!”

Your face felt hot as he grabbed your hand and shoved the rest of the gummy bears into it.

“Oh, and I got this for you.” He reached into the inside of his suit jacket and pulled out a battered looking document. “It’s a map of the hotel - it’s quite old but I’ve scribbled down any new additions or structures that may have been added more recently.”

“Where’d you get this?” you asked, trying to avoid the more pressing question of why he was going out of his way to give this to you.

“Madam Eva gave it to me,” he replied, simply.

“Madam Eva? Why would she give you a map of the hotel? Didn’t you grow up here? Why would you need it anyway?” The questions poured out before you could really check yourself.

“Oh hush, Lost Check-in,” he tutted, shaking his head. “I got it from her to give to you. So you wouldn’t keep losing yourself in dark corridors. I wouldn’t want you to bump into someone else like you did with me.”

“Huh?” was your very intelligent response.

Corridors. So many corridors. None of them leading anywhere. Just an endless path. No destination in sight. No doors on any sides. No rooms. Not a single person around. You were all alone. A single object far away. Too far away. The corridor doesn’t end. A figure in black. Growing larger. It was coming for you-

“It was a nightmare… thank god...” You woke up in a cold sweat, breathing harshly as you struggled to gather your surroundings.

You were in your room, the gentle sounds of Michelle’s snores calming you down while you got up to get a drink of water. It didn’t seem like you would be able to get to sleep anytime soon so you decided to study the map Seokjin had given you.

It was no wonder you kept getting lost in the hotel - it was massive and there were a number of rooms within rooms whose existence you wouldn’t be aware of unless you specifically knew where to find them.

Your eyes wandered over to the top left corner of the map. That particular section of the map was much more faded than the rest of it, making it hard to decipher exactly what was there.

“Seokjin!” You burst into his room just as the clock struck 6 in the morning. “I think I know where we should be searching next! Th-”

You nearly collided with the table in the centre of the room as you realised exactly what you had stumbled upon.

Seokjin doing his morning stretches. Seokjin, with bed hair and rosy cheeks, doing morning stretches. Seokjin, wearing a peach colored t-shirt and tiny pink shorts, with bed hair and rosy cheeks, doing morning stretches. Seokjin, whose ears were now a bright red, wearing a peach colored t-shirt and tiny pink shorts, with bed hair and rosy cheeks, doing morning stretches.

“Y/n?” he asked, looking very confused.

“Thigh- I mean, hi!” You looked away from the lower half of his body, donned in the most ridiculously tiny pair of tennis shorts you had ever laid eyes on. “I have an idea.”

“Okay? Is it related to knocking before you burst into someone’s room at the crack of dawn?” he replied, grinning cheekily.

“Shut up!” you scoffed, turning away from him. You didn’t need him to see how affected you were.

“Okay, just gimme a minute.”

Soon, he was back, appropriately dressed and smelling like strawberries. Of course he smelled like strawberries…

“So what was your great idea?” he asked, sitting down on the floor.

“I was looking through the map of the hotel,” you said, opening it up. “And this place right here on the top left corner of the map - I think this place would be worth a shot.”

“No.”

“No? Why not?!” You were slightly annoyed at how quickly he dismissed your suggestion.

“Because,” he said, pulling the map closer to himself. “This is where the Chavalenet suites are located.”

“Oh…” You frowned at the map. “But that means there’s a greater chance of finding the treasure over there! Have you looked there before?”

“No, because only select staff are allowed there during fixed hours. Madam Iris insists on it.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “I think we should check it out. Come on, we’ll be very careful! They’ll never know we were there!”

The earnest look in your eyes seemed to make Seokjin waver. He stared at you for a few moments before shaking his head resignedly.

“What’s the worst that could happen… Ah, fine. Let’s plan on exploring that section of the hotel while dinner is being served. I know that Anthony requested a special performance by that famous children’s magician, so they should be occupied for much longer than usual.”

You grinned, collecting the map and getting ready to leave the room. “I’ll meet you outside the kitchens at 7!”

It was exactly twenty past 7 when you rushed out of the kitchen, nearly colliding with Seokjin in the process. He tapped his watch a few times, wiggling his eyebrows teasingly.

“I hate that woman!” you huffed angrily, slipping into your jacket. “She actually requested that I peel all the potatoes for tonight’s dinner. Do you know how many potatoes were served tonight? 200!”

“You peeled 200 potatoes by yourself?” Seokjin raised his eyebrows in alarm.

“No,” you sighed. “Chef Yuna got Laila to help me out but Madam Iris kept popping in every few minutes so she had to go back to doing something else. Mind you, I might not have finished at all tonight if she hadn’t helped me. But it still took an insane amount of time.”

The two of you walked towards the Chavalenets’ section of the hotel. It was located at the back of the building, effectively cut off from the usually busy portions of the hotel.

“Why is this family so weird?” you complained, picking at a thread on your jacket. “One doesn’t speak, one is an evil tyrant, one is a spineless asshole, and don’t even get me started on the kid!”

Seokjin chuckled softly. “They weren’t always so weird. Especially not Madam Eva.”

“Really? I don’t believe it. She just sits there and watches her daughter do whatever she wants.”

“No, it’s true. She was a very powerful woman - used to command the attention of everyone in the room. Everyone respected her and she really cared about everyone in the hotel - staff and guests included. In fact, she was the one who introduced special events for guests during the evenings. She also had part of the hotel renovated so that there were more staff quarters.”

“So what happened?”

“A couple of things. About 15 years ago, Madam Eva’s husband passed away quite suddenly. Everyone was pretty shocked, but in hindsight it shouldn’t have been such a surprise. He liked to live it up - smoked like a chimney, drank like a fish, and ate everything the doctors specifically asked him to avoid. Anyway, around the time of his death, rumors about the treasure started circulating. There was speculation that he had left something behind but hadn’t told the rest of the family. Overall, his death created a lot of upheaval in terms of property and inheritance issues.”

Seokjin paused, pinching the bridge of his nose tiredly.

“It was about two years after that that Madam Eva’s son and his family died in a car crash. Adrian, his wife Sophie, and their little girl - who funnily enough had the same name as you.”

“Really?!” you asked, eyes widening in surprise. That would explain why Chef Yuna and the Chavalenets had reacted so strangely when they had heard your name.

“Yeah,” he said, turning towards you with a sad smile. “I still remember that day clearly. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Madam Eva as devastated as she had been that day. The police barely managed to stop her from going to the crash site. I can’t imagine what would’ve happened if she had managed to get there - apparently, the explosion was so bad that only a few body parts were recovered.”

“Wow…” You didn’t know what to say. The story sounded horrible on its own - what must it have been to actually have to live through it?

“Anyway, here we are” -Seokjin pointed at a couple of large doors next to each other - “that’s Madam Iris’ study and her and Anthony’s bedroom next to it. On the other end of the corridor is Madam Eva’s room and an empty ballroom where they sometimes hold meetings.”

“Okay, let’s start with the study.”

Madam Iris’ study was a very well organized room. There was no way you could rummage through it without moving something out of place. Seokjin suggested that each item should be returned to its place as soon as it was inspected, making sure that nothing was left to be put back at the end. It seemed like a pretty efficient system, but unfortunately, there appeared to be nothing useful that could point you towards the treasure.

“I knew it!” Seokjin stood up and waved a large paper notebook frantically. “I knew she was tampering with the books! There’s no way the hotel could be doing as badly as she claimed!”

You frowned and took a quick glance at the notebook. Not being familiar with any of the accounts, you looked at Seokjin for some help. He began explaining every single mistake with a feverish excitement, his words coming out faster as he got more excited.

Suddenly, you heard a noise from outside the room.

There was no need to check who it was - in whatever scenario, you and Seokjin could not be caught rifling through the papers in Madam Iris’ room.

“Seokjin!” you whispered frantically. “Shut up! There’s someone coming!”

He wasn’t paying any attention to you, excitedly rattling off different things from the notebook. The voices were getting closer and in a last desperate attempt, you pulled him behind the large red curtains and smashed your lips to his.

That seemed to shut him up for a moment. But as he realized that your lips were on his, he attempted to pull away. There was no way you could risk letting Seokjin talk right now. So you moved your lips over his, kissing him fast and hard, while your fingers frantically tapped a pattern onto his left arm. Hopefully he would notice the pressure on his arm and understand that you were trying to tell him something - that you were trying to tell him to shut up for a few minutes.

Thankfully, he stopped struggling after a few taps on his arm, focusing on kissing you instead.

You nearly missed out on the conversation happening at the other end of the room because Seokjin’s lips were just so damn powerful.

“Iris,” you recognized Madam Eva’s voice, low and stern. “I’m running out of patience. When is that lawyer husband of yours going to be done with the new staff contracts?”

“Mother, please, have patience. Anthony can’t just rush through such an important task. We need to everything is absolutely perfect before handing it over to you.”

“You have until the end of the month,” Madam Eva said, her voice ringing with finality.

The door slammed shut and the sound of the two pairs of footsteps slowly receded into silence.

It took you a few seconds to realise that the coast was clear. Pulling away from him hastily, you took in the sight of his bruised lips and dazed expression. Pushing aside the delighted feeling blooming in the pit of your stomach, you brought his attention to the conversation you both had just overheard.

“Sorry about that - I had to find some way to shut you up quickly! But more importantly, we need to find those contracts! Did you hear what they were saying? I’m sure Iris is planning something sinister!”

Seokjin had not, in fact, heard anything that had been said. His brain had started glitching as soon as your lips had descended on his. But it was only when you started tapping his hand, did his world come crashing around him.

“Y/n! We aren’t supposed to be here! I’ll get into trouble if they find me here!”

9 year old Seokjin had quite a few reservations about raiding the special chocolate cabinet that was kept locked and stored inside the grand ballroom.

“Shh!” you whispered, pouting at him. “If you keep screaming like that, they’ll definitely find us!”

“What?!” Panic seized his entire body, the words spilling out of his mouth before he could think about them. “I knew it! This is a disaster! I’m going to be in so much trouble! Mum is gonna-”

The feeling of something soft on his cheeks made him halt his word vomit. Your lips, to be precise.

Before he could overreact to this as well, you began tapping his forearm rhythmically. The movement snapped him out of shock, alerting him to the fact that two of the hotel staff were currently taking away the old centre pieces on the tables.

He pulled away from you slowly, nodding his head to let you know that he would be quiet until they left.

It was a good 15 minutes later that the coast was finally clear. However, Seokjin’s ears were still red and his cheeks felt like they were on fire.

“Sorry, Jin,” you apologized, grinning at him mischievously. “I had to shut you up quickly!”

It came back to him in a rush. A pile of memories, falling from the sky and burying him under the emotions he had kept locked up for more than a decade.

He couldn’t believe that this was happening. Madam Eva’s beloved granddaughter was still alive. You were still alive. You were Madam Eva’s granddaughter.

“I can’t believe I kissed him like that!”

You were currently having a mini meltdown inside your room. Thankfully, Michelle was still working so you had the whole place to yourself to rant about your ridiculous choice of actions.

“I could’ve just covered his mouth with my hand!” You buried your face in your hands. “But NO! I had to use my mouth to cover his mouth! What was I thinking? No! What is he thinking?! Fuck!”

This was getting too much. Your face felt unbelievably hot, and you couldn’t make sense of your own actions. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t kissed a guy before - in fact, those sloppy kisses you had shared with Yoongi’s best friend, Hoseok, had been quite enjoyable. But that was after Hoseok had said that he liked you - you hadn’t just jumped him out of nowhere!

“I’m such an idiot!” you groaned.

There was no point screaming to yourself inside the room. Perhaps a walk around the hotel would help you calm down. You’d probably get lost again and it would take hours for you to find your way back. The perfect distraction!

The walk was beginning to do the trick - you were so busy examining the different paintings and statues lining the corridors that you ended up at some random part of the hotel, too immersed in what you had found to overthink the kiss.

“A piano?” You walked into the small room, marveling at the beautiful ivory piano situated in a corner.

“It looks like no one’s used this in years,” you muttered to yourself, opening the keylid and lightly running your fingers over the keys. “Shame… it looks so magnificent.”

An idea popped up in your head. When the Mins had found you 12 years ago, the only object in your possession had been a roughly folded set of sheet music. Yoongi had saved up enough money to buy a second hand piano - but there hadn’t been enough keys on it to play the last page of the sheet music.

But this grand piano would do nicely.

Sneaking a peak around the room, you made sure that no one else was there. The last thing you needed was for Madam Iris or anyone from her family to catch you here.

“Okay, let’s try this.”

The first note sounded rich, and the tone was definitely of more superior quality than the one you had practiced on with Yoongi. As you continued playing the piece, your thoughts wandered over to the Mins. A wave of homesickness hit you suddenly and images of the cafe sailed through your mind - you wondered how they were doing. Was the cafe managing a little better now? Maybe you’d use one of the hotel’s telephones to call Yoongi and see how they were doing…

“Huh?” You stopped playing, confused by the sound coming from the key you had just played.

You were now on the last page of the sheet music - your right hand on the highest scale available. The e flat key did not sound right, and you checked the sheet music to make sure you were playing the right one.

“No… this seems right. Why does it sound off?” you wondered, pressing the key a little harder this time.

All of a sudden, there was a loud creak and one of the wooden panels behind you sprung open. You nearly fell off the piano stool in shock, just barely managing to hold on as you waited for someone to jump out from the shadows and attack you.

Thankfully, no one did. But the panel remained open, subtly inviting you inside.

“What’s the harm in checking it out?” you reasoned with yourself. “No one’s going to find out.”

And so, you stepped through the opening, walking into a very large room filled with trunks of different sizes, a few large cabinets, and dozens of pictures set up all over. It almost resembled some kind of store room. Upon closer inspection, you realized that all the pictures were of the same people - a young man with a soft smile, a very beautiful woman standing next to him, and a little girl who never seemed to be facing the camera when the picture was taken.

They looked so familiar. Like something out of a dream. A dream that you were struggling to grasp at as it slipped away into your subconscious.

With every picture you examined, the ache inside your chest grew. Soon, there were tears falling from your eyes as an overwhelming rush of memories hit you like a ton of bricks. Your father showing you the different keys on the piano while your mother fussed about not having enough time to teach you how to write. Your grandmother talking you on walks through the property, telling you stories about how there used to be deer and rabbits before most of the greenery was cleared away. Your family showering you with so much love while you raced about the hotel making new friends, playing hide and seek, and dragging your best friend along with you.

“It can’t be…” you wiped away your tears furiously. “How can this be true…”

You sat down on one of the trunks, burying your face in your hands. Your head hurt. Your chest hurt. Everything hurt. You wanted to cry. You also wanted to punch your way through the hard stone walls.

You felt… lost.

“Are you sure?” Anthony asked his wife, the fear very apparent in his voice.

Madam Iris snapped at him. “Of course I’m sure! Would I be joking about something like this?”

Anthony gulped and looked down at his hands. “So Adrian and Sophie’s kid is still alive… what if they are too?!”

“No, they’re not,” she replied, shaking her head definitely. “I saw their bodies in the crash. It was just that pesky kid I couldn’t find…”

“You don’t think she’s back for revenge, do you?”

“I’m pretty sure she has no idea about her true identity,” Madam Iris contemplated. “But it’s better to not take any chances - we should get rid of her quickly. Before someone else realizes who she is.”

Anthony stared at his wife doubtfully. “Doesn’t that seem a little extreme? I mean… she’ll probably never figure it out if she hasn’t already.”

“My darling,” Madam Iris sat beside him and took his hand in hers. “How many times have I told you not to use that little brain of yours? It’s landed us in a fix quite a few times already. So please, leave the planning to me. And just do as I say.”

“You aren’t joking, right?”

Seokjin sighed and shook his head. He had been trying to explain everything to his mother for the past half an hour - but every few minutes, she would give him a skeptical look and ask if he was playing some kind of elaborate prank.

“Why would I joke about something like this?”

Chef Yuna rubbed her forehead tiredly. “It did catch me by surprise when she said her name was ‘y/n’. My mind immediately thought of the little girl running around the hotel, stealing everyone’s hearts.”

Seokjin smiled softly, recalling all the memories he had of you when you were both children.

“Including yours, if I remember correctly,” his mother teased him.

Seokjin’s ears turned red and he cleared his throat loudly. “I don’t know how to tell her… that she’s part of the Chavalenet family. Probably even the next heir if we consider the inheritance laws.”

Chef Yuna nodded her head. “The oldest child of the oldest child will inherit the property.”

She looked at her son who was busily examining the skin around his fingernails - a habit he had picked up around the time of his promotion. It signaled a great amount of anxiety inside him.

“Maybe you should talk to Madam Eva about this,” she said, gently. “It’s probably the best course of action right now.”

Seokjin nodded his head. Somewhere in his mind, he knew that Madam Eva would have to be told about this revelation. It was the next logical step - she would be the best person to tell you the truth.

But his heart felt heavy. On one hand, he was incredibly glad that you were still alive - his childhood friend, the only person he ever remembered being really close to. On the other hand, this meant that both of you belonged in separate worlds - worlds which were leagues apart, worlds which didn’t have any place for each other.

A part of him, selfishly, wanted to keep the truth to himself, and be able to stay by your side for a bit longer. Over the past couple of days, he had come to the startling revelation that he had feelings for you - and the thought of never being able to act on those feelings made his heart clench painfully.

He wanted to kiss you again - properly, this time. But now, even if you somehow managed to return his feelings, there was no way the two of you would ever work out.

Life was quite unfair sometimes.

Madam Eva had tears in her eyes as she hugged you tightly to her chest. Soft sobs wracked her entire person, and you patted her back awkwardly.

“My sweet child,” she managed to say between sobs. “My sweet y/n. I can’t believe that you’re here in front of me! That you’re alive! I missed you so much!”

Truth be told, you were very overwhelmed by everything that had been going on the past couple of days. You had even briefly contemplated running away and going back to the Mins.

But then Seokjin had told Madam Eva the truth - the truth you had no idea he was aware of.

And that had stung.

“How long have you known?” you asked him, once things had quietened down a little.

“Two days,” he replied. His eyes looked sad and that annoyed you even more. Why was he sad?! He was the one who had figured out your identity and then revealed it to your family without once thinking of telling you anything! If anyone should be sad, it should be you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Your tone was clipped as you tried your best to control the anger underneath.

“Huh?”

You uncrossed your arms from over your chest. “If you knew, why didn’t you tell me? I should’ve been the first to know! I’m the one it affects most! How could you not tell me?!”

Seokjin recoiled a little. “I- uh- wasn’t completely sure. I didn’t want to confuse you.”

You let out a mirthless laugh. “How considerate! You didn’t want to confuse me? Well how do you think I feel now?! I was ambushed by a family and a past that I wasn’t prepared to confront! I was barely able to wrap my head around the memories that suddenly assaulted me when the whole hotel came crashing down on me in tears and embraces! HOW DO YOU THINK I FEEL, SEOKJIN?!”

You were yelling now as tears streamed down your face. Seokjin attempted to reach out to you but you brushed his hand aside roughly.

“Don’t touch me.” The words felt like they were choking inside your throat. “And don’t talk to me. Ever.”

You didn’t have much time to yourself as the hotel began preparing celebrations in honor of your return. The first item on the agenda was a bonfire organized by your grandmother. Everyone was very excited about it because it had been years since she had actively taken part in any hotel event.

“Feels like the good old days!” Chef Yuna said, barely able to contain the excitement in her voice. “You lot have never been to an event organized by Madam Eva - they’re really a once in a lifetime kind of experience!”

It was just around dusk that everyone gathered around a large bonfire, prepared for an evening of song, dance, and wonderful food. The guests along with the hotel staff were extremely excited about the bonfire, but there were three faces that looked like they would rather be anywhere else but here.

The first was Madam Iris, whose hazel eyes burned with a cold anger as she watched everyone fuss over you. The second was her husband, Anthony Farrow, who looked pale and kept glancing at his wife nervously. And the third was you, who felt like you deserved none of this and couldn’t reconcile whatever was going on with what you had known for so many years.

“It has been many years since my heart felt any kind of joy,” Madam Eva began, looking around with a bright smile. “As many of you know, I lost my husband 15 years ago, and shortly afterwards, my son and daughter-in-law were killed in a car crash. All these years, I thought that I had lost my darling granddaughter as well - but somehow, the heavens have granted me a miracle. It’s been so many years since I last saw you, my dear y/n, and I cannot express how happy I am to see you again.”

Everyone clapped and cheered as she gave you another hug. Maybe you didn’t deserve it, but it felt nice to be showered with so much love and affection. You just wished you could remember something more - you had absolutely no memory of the car accident that had killed your parents even though many other little details about your past were very clear.

“Please, everyone help yourselves to the food and drinks prepared by our talented Chef Yuna and her incredible team!”

Halfway through the event, everyone had scattered to different parts of the grounds. Besides the main bonfire, a number of small heating devices had been set up so that people could stay warm outdoors.

You had just finished a small plate filled with dishes Chef Yuna had made. They were all incredible but everything felt like sandpaper in your mouth. You wondered when it would be okay for you to go back inside without it looking too impolite.

Trudging back to the bonfire, you noticed that only Madam Iris was sitting there. You were in no mood to interact with her - she hadn’t been subtle about expressing her dislike towards you even after finding out who you really were.

Just before you could turn back, she stood up and walked over to pick up something that had fallen on the ground. She was wearing a billowy black cloak over her expensive clothes and the bonfire behind her illuminated her silhouette like…

The air is full of smoke. You cough and sit up, looking around for your parents.

“Mum! Dad!” you yell, coughing furiously. “Wh-where are you?!”

The smoke is getting in your eyes and you rub at them to try and clear your vision. You try and get up but the shooting pain in your left leg stops you. There’s a huge gash below your knee, red and brown as the dirt on the road mixes with your blood.

“Mum! Dad!” you scream again, hoping that they might finally hear you. “Help me, please!”

Suddenly, a huge explosion rocks the area, sending you flying into the nearest obstacle.

Your back hurts as you try and sit up again, trying to see where the explosion came from. Your eyes catch sight of a brilliant orange light, roaring against the night sky.

A fire.

And in front of the fire, stands a figure in a black cloak, looking so frightening that you start crying in fear.

“HELP!” you yell, struggling to get to your feet.

The figure is getting closer and something inside you knows that you need to get away from it.

“HELP ME! PLEASE!” You have somehow managed to stand up, but fear keeps you paralyzed in place.

A sudden gust of wind blows through the night, shifting the direction of the embers, and you catch a glimpse of their face.

Suddenly, the ground beneath you wobbles and you find yourself hurtling down the side of the road. You try desperately to grab onto something but your momentum is too strong. You finally come to a stop after crashing into a tree, the last of your consciousness slipping away as the face comes back to haunt you.

It is your aunt, Iris.

“It was you!” you screamed, as the memories came back - the car crash, the chase that led to the crash, your parents’ frantic voices, your mother pushing you out of the car before it crashed. “You were there that night! You were chasing our car that night! You’re the one who watched us crash and didn’t do anything about it! You killed my parents!”

Madam Iris glared at you with unbridled hatred. “Shut up! Just SHUT UP! You ruined everything, you stupid little bitch! I was this close to getting everything!”

A fight ensued as Iris attacked you with all her might. At one point, Anthony joined in as well, and you were worried that you would be outnumbered. But somehow, Seokjin managed to find you and subdued Anthony quickly. After that, it didn’t take long for you to get the better of Iris - a few punches and she was down.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked her, panting for breath.

She sat down by the tree, exhausted, but spitting venom from her eyes. “Fuck you.”

It turned out that Iris didn’t need to say anything. As soon as your grandmother had looked at Anthony sternly, the frightened man had opened his mouth and spilled each and every one of his wife’s secrets. It was quite a sad story overall.

On that fateful night, 12 years ago, your father had found the ‘treasure’. Both he and Iris had been looking for it for days, believing that it was either a lot of priceless jewels or some very important property papers. After your father had found it, he had tried his best to keep it hidden, but Iris had found out about it anyway. A huge argument had taken place, following which your father had decided to run away with you and your mother. You had all snuck out in the middle of the night, driving off in a car with some of your belongings. Iris had given chase and watched as the car had crashed and then burst into flames. She had also believed that you had rolled down the edge of the road to your death.

Over the past 12 years, she had tried to find out where your father had hidden the treasure, but did not succeed. In fact, it was you who had stumbled across it the night that you had found the hidden room behind the wooden panel.

Alas! The treasure was not so much a treasure as a horrific surprise. Your grandfather had apparently sold off the hotel a few days before his death - and hidden the fact from everyone, including his wife and children. However, he had hidden the legal papers so that neither the new owners nor his family would ever be able to prove the fact. It was one last ridiculous game he had played before succumbing to all his vices.

Iris’ grand plans of selling the hotel citing financial losses - which she had orchestrated herself - had also been foiled by the discovery of those papers. She and Anthony had been taken into police custody for further questioning.

Your grandmother had taken the news of the sale relatively well. She had immediately packed her bags and left to visit the new owners, hoping to garner some goodwill in the process.

All of this had happened in a matter of a few hours, and you had completely forgotten about the injuries you had sustained from fighting your aunt. So, that was why you were currently sitting in the room behind the front desk, trying not to fidget as Seokjin tended to your wounds.

“That was… an interesting series of events,” he said, trying to ease the tension in the air. “I never really liked that woman but I definitely didn’t think she was that crazy.”

You remained silent. Seokjin continued to clean the cuts and scrapes carefully. Once again, you noticed how he gently held the cotton swab but then shook it vigorously to get the excess antiseptic off. It was strangely endearing, and made you want to laugh and cry at the same time.

“Jin?” you used your nickname for him.

He looked up from the cut on your knee, eyes wide in surprise.

“Do you have any rose gummy bears?”

He blinked a few times before smiling and nodding his head. Quickly finishing up with the rest of injuries, he asked you to wait while he raided the secret stash.

“Here.” He handed you a small bag full of his favorite gummy bears and sat down next to you.

You gave him a small smile and took out a couple of gummy bears, swiftly popping them into your mouth. Seokjin said nothing, waiting patiently for you to finish eating as many as you wanted.

“Can I tell you something?” you asked, after a while.

“Of course.”

“I really want to kiss you right now.”

Seokjin’s ears turned red as he stared at the wall in front of him. His side profile was so gorgeous, soft lines defining his strong features.

“Can I?” you asked, making him turn towards you. “Not to distract you. Not to prevent people from finding us. Nothing like that. Just” - you tilted your head to one side - “because I want to.”

He nodded his head slowly, giving you the permission you hadn’t asked for the last time.

You drew him closer and softly kissed his lips. After a few seconds, he responded as well, cupping your cheek with his hand, and returning your kisses with enthusiasm.

“Why do you want to?” he asked, in between kisses. “Why do you want to kiss me?”

You pulled away and frowned at him. “You’re an ass. Why do you think I want to?”

He grinned, kissing you behind each ear and starting a slow path down your neck. “Indulge me.”

“It’s because- ugh!” you gasped as he nipped at the sensitive spot near your collarbone. “Because - because -”

He stopped his assault on your neck, eyes twinkling playfully. “Because?”

“Two can play at this game,” you muttered, incredibly embarrassed and equally turned on. You moved over to sit on his lap, grinding against him while leaving open mouthed kisses along his neck. Once his entire neck was sufficiently covered with light nips, you moved back to his lips, kissing him deep and hard.

“Y/n,” he gasped into your mouth. “I’m going to explode.”

“Are you now?” you whispered, swiping your tongue into his mouth and feeling your insides curl with pleasure. “Good.”

“I’m serious,” he managed to say between some very loud moans. “I’ll ruin my pants if we keep going like this.”

“Fine,” you said, hopping off and making quick work of his belt buckle. “Take it off then.”

“W-what?” he choked, unable to believe what he had just heard.

“Take off your pants.” You raised an eyebrow and looked him up and down carefully. “Do you know how many times I've thought about seeing that cock of yours after walking in on you doing morning stretches? Why the hell would you wear such tiny tennis shorts anyway?"

If possible, Seokjin's ears turned even more red. "A-are you sure? We don't need to rush or anything."

"Yeah, we don't. But I want to. So," you said, rubbing your palms along his legs. "Take off your pants."

Seokjin grinned, the cheeky glint back in his eyes. "If you insist. But I'm not going to be the only one losing their pants."

"With pleasure," you replied.

The pants were off and soon, the two of you were back to kissing each other like there was no tomorrow. His tongue ravaged your mouth while one of his hands dropped down between your legs and started rubbing you over your panties.

"Feels - mhmm - so good." You matched the rhythm of his fingers, bucking your hips into his hand. Your hand also moved down from his neck and palmed his cock, drawing the most delicious moans from him. Very soon your top and his shirt joined the pile of pants, leaving you both in just your underwear.

"Y/n," Seokjin groaned, taking in the sight of your breasts. "You're so hot."

The two of you remained like that for a bit, almost completely naked, tongues down each others' throats and hands rubbing each other into ecstasy. You felt wetness between your legs, clenching violently when he parted your panties and stroked you between your folds.

"Fuck..." you moaned into his mouth.

"Does that feel good, sweetheart?" he mumbled into your mouth. "Do you want me to use my mouth?"

Your brain could barely process what he had said, but you nodded anyway, senses hazy with pleasure.

"Okay, lie down for me, y/n" he said, pulling away from you. "Let me make you feel good."

You lay down on the sofa, legs parted, as Seokjin hovered over you. "So beautiful. So wet."

He began peppering your inner thighs with light kisses, making you squirm in pleasure. Making his way to your core at an agonizingly slow pace, he finally removed your panties and licked a stripe between your folds.

"Jin! Fuck! I-" Your hips shot up at the intense feeling.

He paid no heed to your moans, licking and slurping your pussy until you were absolutely on the edge.

"I'm close! Please!"

Seokjin plunged a finger inside, using his other hand to keep your legs down. The sensation of his long, slender finger inside you combined with the sight of his head between your thighs was enough for you to reach your climax.

Stars exploded in your vision as the orgasm rocked through you. Seokjin continued his beautiful work on your pussy until you breathed a shaky sigh of pleasure.

"Did you like it?" he asked, teasingly. There was no way he could've missed your screams of pleasure.

"How about I show you just how much I liked it?" you asked, sitting up and playing with the band of his underwear.

Seokjin smirked and quickly shimmied out of his underwear. "Be my guest."

Your eyes widened at the sight of his cock - it was huge. Would he even be able to fit?

"Tell me what feels good," you said, licking long stripes up and down his length. Precum was leaking from his tip already, and you used your tongue to tease him further. Seokjin moaned, gripping the fabric of the sofa as you sucked his cock a few times.

"Don't tease, y/n," he managed with a lot of difficulty. "I don't think I can control myself for much longer."

Pressing a few small kisses to his tip, you leaned back and positioned yourself in front of him. "Okay, I think I'm ready."

A pained expression crossed his face as he took in the sight of you kneeling on your knees, waiting for him to cum.

"Maybe next time," he said, pulling you up to him and placing a soft kiss on your lips. "Right now, I want to be inside you."

"Are you sure?" you asked, returning his kiss.

"Yeah, but let's hurry," he mumbled, taking his throbbing red cock in his hand.

You laid down on the sofa again, spreading your legs for him. He positioned the tip of his cock in front of your entrance, rubbing you a few times before entering slowly.

"Tell me if it's too much," he whispered into your ear, before placing kisses all over your face and neck.

"Mm hmm,"you mumbled, getting used to the stretch.

Seokjin moved his mouth from your neck to your breast, placing sloppy kisses on the mounds before taking one of them in his mouth. You shuddered with pleasure as his tongue swirled around your nippled.

Your senses were getting overwhelmed again - Seokjin had started thrusting into you while simultaneously moving his mouth onto your other breast.

"Is this okay?" he managed between thrusts, his voice hoarse and delightfully sexy.

"Y-yeah, just do what you need to," you said, gripping his biceps with all your might.

He grunted in response, increasing the pace of his thrusts. The room was filled with the sounds of both your moans, and you knew that a second orgasm was building.

Just then, a shrill ring sounded through the room, startling you both. Seokjin barely managed to keep himself from falling off the sofa, placing a hand over his chest as he looked around wildly.

It was the telephone.

Seokjin sighed and pulled out of you, quickly going over to pick up the receiver.

"How can I help you?" he asked, standing there in his full naked glory.

You bit your lip as you drank in the sight of him - from his rippling shoulder muscles to his abs to his tapering waist and dangling cock.

"Of course, madam. But it is currently 2 in the morning. Please call after 7 am in order to make a reservation. Thank you. Have a good night."

Clicking the receiver in place, he rushed back to you, jumping onto the sofa with a smirk.

"Now where were we?"

this took me 2 hours to format on the site T_T i am exhausted. please give it some love! i would love to know what you thought of this story! please like and reblog! thank you! tagging @yoongsgguktae @sugamonster22 @anglofmrcy @blue1928 @jinpanman @thatlongspringnight @thatmultifandomhoe

#seokjin fic #seokjin smut #seokjin #seokjin x reader #wishuponastarcollab #bts bookclub #bangtanhq #btswritingcafe #ficswithluv #magicshopnet #hyunglinenetwork #btsgoldnet #c me write bangtan

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bbytetsu · 4 years ago

Text

SIGNS

pairing: osamu miya x gn! reader

word count: ~3k

author’s note: angst. warnings for slight swearing, very slight suggestiveness. best read to signs by bloc party.

on the winter day marking your first year together, you’re reminded of how deeply you’ve fallen in love.

as you exit the subway station, you’re greeted by the familiar intersection splitting off into narrow streets, each lined by streetlights. the outskirts of osaka are humble, with their greige painted walls and steep, weathered roofs. but the ordinary things here—the 7/11, the spinning barber pole, the cat lingering by the red mailbox—are like landmarks to you, noticed and loved by your crescent eyes. scanning your surroundings, you turn left towards his apartment and continue straight.

5 minutes away from his place.

you amble past the 7/11 store. traces of nikuman waft in the cold air, inviting you in. you catch yourself smiling as you see the regular obasan, red-rimmed glasses perched on her leathery skin, bantering with the store owner—they’re definitely flirting, you think. through the wide windows, you watch the local high school boys’ volleyball team scatter throughout the rainbow aisles. some squat just below your field of vision, others pore through magazines by the register.

3 minutes away from his place.

you take a left. on your right, you pass the family-owned barber shop he visits. its endlessly spinning barber pole is a welcome dash of color amidst the neutral hues of the neighborhood. across from the shop stands the house with the red mailbox. the family’s calico cat idles dangerously close to the road and licks it paws before wandering off.

1 minute away from his place.

you pass the empty bike rack, and the gated residence comes into sight at the end of the street.

it’s all the same, but suddenly it’s not.

small fluffs of white begin to obscure your vision. you glance up at the sky, and your eyes widen—it’s snowing. juxtaposed against the osaka skyline, it’s almost as if the city lights are disintegrating, their embers falling around you in the form of bright snowflakes. you watch the snow in a trance, and before you know it, winter has draped a sheer white veil over the street, dusted over naked trees with its snowy kiss.

on the winter day marking your first year together, you feel as if your love for him has overflowed and trickled out from your chest. and now it surrounds you in the form of snow. falling so softly, so wonderfully dizzyingly.

----------

“i’m here, ‘samu,” you call out in a singsong voice as you twist your spare key in the lock. pushing open the door, you’re stunned to find his place completely dark. you step into the apartment and wrangle your boots off of your feet.

“’samu? you here?” with your eyes trained on the floor for any potential tripping hazards, you tread through the dim foyer.

“yeah, i’m here.” his familiar voice rings out, partially relieving your confusion. you look up to search for his figure.

“why’s it so- oh my god, what’s all this?” you nearly trip into the kitchen. you gasp at the sight of candles casting golden highlights across the dinner table. slivers of mahogany peek in between plates of nigiri, bowls of miso, and other tableware. in the center of the table, a glass vase holds two crimson roses, petals coated with glassy dewdrops.

you try to collect your thoughts. “i thought we were just meeting here,” you pause to think. “wait, did our dinner reservation get canceled? did you call me earlier? i might’ve missed it...” you fumble for your phone in your coat pocket.

he grins a slightly lopsided grin. “ya still haven’t caught on? i didn’t actually make a reservation, i was just tryna surprise ya… seeing as ya like surprises and all that. plus,” he clears his throat. “why would we go out to dinner when i can make it myself? i hear their wasabi isn’t even freshly made.”

you’re silent as tears well up in your eyes.

“hey, you’re not about to cry, are ya?” he’s unsure whether to poke fun of you or embrace you in a warm hug.

“i just can’t believe you did this all yourself,” you whisper, still fixated on the feast in front of you. even to your untrained eyes, you can tell that each each piece was handled with precision, delicacy, but above all, love. the air between you feels thick and honeyed, suffused with all the feelings brimming in your chest.

“i mean, i do this for a living.” you glance up at him. he shrugs, but you notice the tender twinkle in his eye.

“i know, but it’s still amazing. i don’t even know what to say,” you confess.

“ya don’t have to say anythin’,” he murmurs. “just let me enjoy the quiet for once.”

“huh?” your eyebrows furrow, but your lips curl into a faint smile. “okay, i take it back. you better be prepared to listen to me all night.”

he cocks his eyebrow. “why? is there something ya wanna do all night?”

“‘SAMU! don’t twist my words,” you lunge towards him. he recoils.

“oi, relax!!”

just as you’re about land a solid smack on his ass, he maneuvers behind you and folds his strong arms around you in a back hug. laughing, you squirm in his embrace, but he doesn’t budge.

“gotcha,” he huffs into your ear. he loosens his grip around you, allowing you to wriggle your arms above and over his. you intertwine your fingers with his, and the two of you sway from side to side like in a slow dance. he pulls your body closer to his chest.

“happy anniversary,” he whispers, as if he’s afraid that speaking any louder will disrupt the romantic atmosphere he’s so diligently crafted.

of course, you know that nothing could ruin this moment.

“mhm. happy anniversary to us.”

with his eyes closed, he breathes in your scent. the two of you are quiet—there is no need for words. the way your limbs melt into each other, no beginning or end to either of you, is enough for the both of you.

he loves you. you love him.

he’s thankful that sushi doesn’t need to be served hot. he’d hold you here for an eternity if he could.

----------

it’s funny how things change throughout the years.

you sit motionless, with both of your elbows pressed against the cold mahogany of the table. when you first sat down, the sun had just begun to creep below the skyline, wispy streaks of reds and yellows blazing in its wake. now, the sun was long gone, and your only companion was the moon, whom you know all too well these days. round and low in the dark sky, it casts shadows across the empty dinner table.

the apartment is silent besides the quiet ticking of the kitchen clock.

tick, tock. as if it’s a bomb waiting to explode. as if it’s mocking you for waiting so long. as if it’s counting down the time you have left with him.

you lean your forehead against your hands, clasped in a silent prayer. with your eyes closed, you allow any and all emotions to wash over you.

how could you forget our anniversary? does our relationship even matter to you? do i even matter to you? why am i always your second choice? how did things end up this way?

the muffled jangle of keys outside the door interrupts your thoughts, and the lock clicks as it turns open. hours ago, you would have perked up at the sound, but now it’s been much too late. you remain motionless. after shaking his shoes off, he walks into the dim kitchen to find you sitting at the dinner table, your forehead still pressed against your clasped hands.

“you forgot,” you whisper, refusing to look at him.

“i know, y/n. i’m so-”

you cut him off. “you could’ve called. or texted.”

“i’m so sor-”

“save it. i’ve been sitting here for the last… i don’t even know how many hours. and i’ve just been thinking about what to say.”

he’s quiet. how many more mistakes will it take for you to realize he no longer loves you like he used to? you shudder at the thought, but are unable to ignore it any longer. you’ve opened pandora’s box, unleashing thick smoke that swallows you whole. it clouds your every thought and contaminates your memories with him; it stings your eyes and steals the breath from your lungs.

you begin to shake, and he watches as your breaths shorten into small, erratic gasps. his chest tightens at the sight. kneeling down onto the ground to level himself with with your seated figure, he stretches his arms towards you. but to his shock, you flinch at his touch.

“don’t!” you gasp. “don’t come near me. i don’t want that-” you’re unable to finish your sentence, sudden gasps curbing whatever words were to come next.

“y/n, i’m sorry.” his voice is low, his mouth sours with dread.

“i know. but it’s not the first time that you’ve done something like this. remember my birthday?” you choke out, burying your face in your palms.

he grimaces at the mention. “i do. but ya said ya wouldn’t bring that up again. i thought we agreed to move past that.”

“well, yeah we did. but the thing is, it’s become a pattern.”

he stands up and hovers by your seated figure. “me forgetting? it’s happened two or three times. i wouldn’t say that’s a pattern. but listen, i know i was in the wrong and and that’s why i wanna say i’m sorry. i really am.”

you look up at him with puffy, bleary eyes. red tinges your waterline. “you just don’t get it, do you?”

“whaddya mean?” his mind scrambles. get what? he replays your interactions in a frantic attempt to uncover whatever deeper meaning he was missing.

“it’s not just you missing our anniversary, or you missing my birthday. it’s so much bigger than that. all of this,” you wave your hand. “is just a symptom of the bigger problem.”

he raises an eyebrow. “i wasn’t aware we had a bigger problem.”

his lack of awareness shocks you. how can you be so unobservant, so oblivious? all the sorrow and rage that you’ve repressed begins to bubble and overflow, like a pot of boiling water with its lid on for too long. you ball your fists as hot, stinging tears run down your cheeks. “you wanna know what it is, ‘samu?” you straighten your back and turn towards him. “it’s the fact that you no longer have room in your life for me! admit it, onigiri miya is more important to you than i am!”

“what’s onigiri miya gotta do with all this?” he retorts. his voice is grating. “i know i’ve been busy with work, but ya couldn’t possibly think that. you’ve always supported me and my dream of running my own damn restaurant, but now it’s the problem with us? the fact that i have a dream?”

“no, the fact that your dream doesn’t include me,” your voice quivers. “there’s no space for me in your future, ‘samu.”

“oh come on, ya know that’s not true. i’ve just been busy keeping up with it, especially with how business is growing.”

anger flares within you. how dare he dismiss your concerns as if they’re not legitimate? as if you’re nothing more than a small child whining for candy?

“but think about it!” you shoot up from your chair and look him in the eye. “when you envision yourself in 5 years, what do you think about? you think about onigiri miya, you think about how business is booming, critics are raving about your cooking. you’re raking in so much cash you’ve opened a new restaurant and you’re standing there in front of the new place, and maybe you’re cutting the ribbon for the grand opening. but am i there? am i standing next to you anywhere in your dream? do you think about us, where we’re going to be in five years? no, no you don’t. i’m not anywhere in the picture and you know it.”

even in the dark, you can see his jaw clench. the rest of his features grow rigid with frustration.

he, too, has reached his boiling point.

“how can ya possibly say that?” he seethes, his tone unforgiving like steel slicing through palpable air. “i told ya already, y/n. i’m sorry. i fucked up. i missed our anniversary. i even missed your birthday. but that is not the reason we won’t work out, i won’t let that be the reason. ya know i love ya. i do. but ya wanna pit yourself against my job... don’t ya think that’s a little unfair? for fuck’s sake, not even my job, but my dream? ya know how it’s been a dream of mine since forever to open my own shop. ya know how hard it’s been, how i shed blood, sweat, and tears to open it, much less to keep it going. of all people, ya know how hard it was for me to find something i wanted alone, something that was different than ‘tsumu’s. something that would let me be my own person. and now i’ve finally found it ya wanna take it away? all because ya need attention?”

his words leave a metallic aftertaste, and he watches your features twist in pain as you confirm your growing suspicions.

he’s outgrown me.

“i- i’m sorry. i know that you’re not trying to take anything away from me,” he confesses. he wants so desperately to take back his mangled words, but it’s too late. he’s dropped a lit match onto your bed of oil, setting flame to what he once knew.

you stand up shakily and face him: the man who taught you what it meant to love. the man who taught you what it meant to hurt.

“you’re right, i’m not. but you know what?” your voice cracks before growing raspier. “thanks for telling me that. because when i imagined my future, i always imagined a future in which you were by my side. i thought we’d move in together someday, maybe even get a dog, maybe even get married, maybe even have—oh, i don’t know—kids, and move into a house! help them with their math homework! take them to the aquarium, go on family picnics! make onigiri on sundays! but, i guess i’ve been a fucking fool, haven’t i?”

he looks at you with wide, dinner plate eyes.

you choke back sobs, not even bothering to wipe away the wet tears trailing down your cheeks. your heart weighs heavier than lead, and you turn on your heels.

“i- y/n, wait, where are ya going?” he reaches for you, the tips of his fingers brushing against your arm as you shoulder past him.

“outside. to think.”

as he realizes you have every intention of leaving the apartment, he trips into the hallway after you.

“wait, it’s fuckin’ freezing outside-”

“ii’ll be fine.” you forcefully grab the woolen coat off the coat rack and swing it over your shoulders.

“y/n. please, we can work this out.” you’ve never heard him like this—quiet, but painfully desperate.

too late.

“i need to think.”

you step through the doorway, not daring to look back.

----------

you trudge through the half melted snow that coats the street. as your eyes burn with tears, the faraway osaka city lights blur in your vision like a kaleidoscope. shivering, you dig your bare hands further into your pockets and clench onto the fabric—an attempt to preserve whatever heat there is, but more so as an expression of your anger.

your legs seem to move by themselves, and you grit your teeth to keep yourself from crying. how did things end up like this?

1 minute away from his place.

you hurry past the empty bike rack and the brick walls guarding the houses. the greige walls have never looked grayer.

3 minutes away from his place.

you pass by the house with the red mailbox, its obnoxious color like a warning that’s much too late. the calico cat has abandoned you and is nowhere to be seen. the spinning barber pole taunts you with its endless dance.

5 minutes away from his place.

you pass by the 7/11. there’s no one in the store except for the regular obasan, whose wrinkles are drawn taut in a frown. you watch as she fires words at the shopowner, her one hand pointing at him animatedly and the other resting on her hip. they’re definitely arguing, you think.

you finally reach the open intersection in front of the subway station. leaning against a streetlight, you survey the neighborhood defeatedly, trying to find beauty in the surroundings you once regarded with so much affection. trying to find a sign. water seeps off of branches and falls onto the pavement like teardrops. the steep-roofed houses huddle together in the cold, their walls practically rubbing against each other.

it’s all the same, but it’s somehow different.

you look down at your feet, slush coating the edges of your shoes. it pains you to see that the the snow is no longer bright or pure, but translucent. tinted an ugly brown. with footprints littered across its surface.

on the winter day marking your fourth year together, the snow you loved so much has melted into slush, revealing nothing but barren soil beneath.

it’s over between us.

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