#i will never have enough time to draw a comic of their entire au life | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jimilter · 3 years ago

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riptide (m) | k.sj. | (1/2)

one | two

pairing: kim seokjin x reader

rating: m (18+)

genre: angst | smut | established relationship!au

summary: It takes a foolishly trivial incident to unravel how astonishingly little you and Seokjin actually understand each other. It has you questioning your relationship, and him? Well, he’s questioning his whole life.

warnings: swearing + implied alcohol consumption + realistic relationship problems + mentions of insecurities, jealousy, complicated mental dispositions + emotional distress + sexual situations (unprotected penetrative sex, dirty talking, a bit of manhandling, fingering) + mentions of masturbation + a ton of miscommunication (refer to the summary smh)

word count: 12.3 k

note: it’s FINALLY done, y’all! came up to be a monster of 25k words, so i decided to split it into two. i’ll drop the other part next week. this took a lot more time, energy and re-writing than i’d thought it would. i began writing this in january - it’s been five excruciating months! 😩 i really hope y'all will like this one~ 🥺💜

💟 YOUTH – 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

— masterlist

— feedback is always appreciated!

riptide (n) – a dangerous area of strongly moving water in the sea, where two or more currents meet.

Lady, running down to the riptide - Taken away to the dark side - I wanna be your left hand man.

The turn of events has been so fucking hilariously impossible that Seokjin has literally been rendered speechless. Which doesn't happen often, mind you. What can he do, he is just extremely witty—he always has something to say about everything, usually and preferably with impeccable comic timing. Especially when it comes to you.

This, though. This completely baffling scenario, right in front of him, has him gaping like a goldfish with no words to say.

"Final call, Jin. Gawk at me for five more seconds and I walk out of here," you threaten, an elegant arm poised at your waist and gorgeously plump lips pressed into a thin line. "Say something?"

And Seokjin still cannot formulate a single word, because what the actual fuck? How can you even think that he could ever—

"Alright." You catwalk out of his bedroom, leaving him blinking into space.

He jumps the next second, leaping after you. "Honey! How would—what—I can never—why do I even have to say—will you wait? You’re being so ridiculous, right now, I hope you know that!"

If he wasn't in such a fix, Seokjin would physically cringe at his speech. It was better when he was just gaping.

“Honey! Stop being so overdramatic, you’ve known me and you’ve known Jimin! For years! Stop acting like you seriously don’t know what happened, here!”

You don't stop, though, gliding down the stairs and hopping over the haphazardly tossed items in the living room as you exit out of the house.

And then you're gone. You're really gone, over something so fucking ridiculous, that Seokjin still has no words to say.

All he knows is that his girlfriend of five years has finally gone crazy enough to jump to conclusions of such high magnitude of stupidity.

And, that Park Jimin is a dead man.

It all begins on an unsuspecting Sunday morning, when the entire house is smelling of weed, stale booze and some worse fluids.

Last night, Seokjin vacated his own bedroom for the boys to smoke up in at Jimin's request, because that is the only well ventilated room of the house. He spent the night in Yoongi's room with earplugs in, dead to all the chaos in the house—as he often does on party nights—to catch up on his beauty sleep. He cannot afford any unbecoming dark circles or, God forbid, breakouts.

And no, that's not a comedic moment, he really does need his face looking perfect this week for reasons outside of personal gratification too, because he has a shoot on Tuesday. He especially took a leave from his part-time job at the Mexican restaurant downtown where his girlfriend, you, work full-time, on a Tuesday—saying goodbye to all the amazing tips always forwarded to the cooks on Taco Tuesday—for this. Nothing would mess up his face.

Not to mention that one very important audition for a very gigantic project he's been looking forward to. They're yet to announce the date, but it would be this very month. He hasn't really told you much about it, planning a huge surprise for later when—if, actually, but he prefers to be unrealistically optimistic in every situation possible—he bags the coveted position, at the end. He hasn't really decided upon much, other than a long drive and a picnic date to one of those grasslands on the city's outskirts that you love so much. Oh, and bringing up the prospect of moving in together in an apartment with just the two of you.

He's pretty certain you must not remember him raving about the opportunity, because it has been months since he did that. He then proceeded to be covert about all the mini auditions and trainings he underwent to prepare for the final audition, and he is confident you have not connected the dots.

But that is all a discussion for later — he doesn't even know when he would be auditioning.

The crux of the whole matter is that he needs to keep looking as flawless as he can until that audition happens.

So he has slept like a baby, last night, while the rest of his friends have partied, including two out of three of his housemates—Hoseok and Jimin—along with Taehyung and Taehyung's girl. Namjoon had foregone attendance in lieu of the Halloween party, next weekend, that he knows he would definitely be forced to attend because Hoseok is hosting. Yoongi, his third and final housemate, escaped the house altogether to spend a night of music-making with Jungkook in his dorm.

So, in the morning, when Seokjin is moving around his kitchen that seems to have been hit by a tornado, checking the fridge and mentally praying that his baggie of smoothie ingredients is still in good shape—a scream echoes around the house.

Seokjin freezes. That sounded a lot like…you.

Immediately alert, he runs out of the kitchen and into the drawing room. Hoseok is hanging upside down on one of the couches, something that looks a lot like undigested white sauce pasta puddles on the ground, inches from his new, fiery red hair. Seokjin grimaces.

"Kim Seokjin!" your screech tears the silence.

Seokjin twists on his heels, looking up in the direction of his bedroom. It really is you. And you're in his bedroom—the room he did not occupy last night.

God only knows what kind of a scene you have walked in on. He hopes these idiots didn’t have an orgy up there, although he really can’t put it past them.

Not waiting another second, Seokjin rushes up the stairs and pushes through the doors to his bedroom. His mouth falls open on an audible gasp.

You stand next to his bed, dressed up elegantly in a navy dress that ends above your knees—which makes him wonder if you are here for an impromptu breakfast date—with one hand clutching his duvet that has uncovered what looks like…

…a head of long, dirty blonde hair.

Who the fuck?

In his bed?

"Hey, Honey!" Seokjin's voice is a squeak. "You… you here for a date?" he manages out of a suddenly parched throat.

You roll your eyes. "Uh huh. A fact you would've known if you looked at the texts I sent you last night." Your eyes are narrow at him. "This explains why you didn't, though. Busy night, Jin?"

He balks at your words, at a loss. How could you even think it was him, when you know all about Park Jimin and his escapades?!

Seokjin's blood boils. Fucking Jimin. There is going to be blood on Seokjin’s hands.

In the midst of it, the blonde head shifts.

Soon after, as you two watch, a pair of brown eyes with smudged makeup emerge from inside Seokjin's bed—and the audacity?! There’s makeup all over his covers! Jimin will pay for the dry cleaning. The face is followed by a whole, tiny woman of five-something feet who is, thankfully, covered in a shirt.

Seokjin is almost not breathing when the blonde starts to give him a dreamy smile, his gaze switching between her and you. And it’s extremely stupid, because he hasn’t seen this woman before, ever, in his entire life. But he catches the way your arms fall to your sides and those elegant, dainty fingers of yours ball up into fists as you look at the blondie’s face.

Fortunately, the girl recognises him at last before her grin could turn fully dopey, and with a squeak, jumps out of the bed. “You’re not—um. Hi. Sorry, I, uh. I’ll get going.”

And surprisingly, she does exactly that in less than a minute, leaving you to stare down at Seokjin.

“You know, it’s really unbecoming for a girlfriend to keep finding girls in her boyfriend’s bed every other week and not be given an explanation, ever.” Your tone is teasing, but your eyes are taunting. “You shouldn’t always be so dismissive, you know? What if I start getting ideas? I don’t think you even remember how to make up with your girlfriend, at this point, because I never fight.”

That is when Seokjin starts gawking. And literally doesn’t stop until you’ve left the house.

“I don’t get it,” Jackson says, stuffing cold noodles into his mouth and chewing on them without closing it. “Do you think he cheated on you, or do you not think he cheated on you?”

You look at your best friend with your face twisted up in disgust. You swear to God you would never have agreed to make friends with this guy on your mother’s insistence when the Wang family moved in next doors to you, had you known he’d turn out to be such a barbarian a decade later. Twelve-year-old Jackson had been such a decent kid—studious, elegant, well-mannered. What went wrong, along the way?

You exhale, shifting on your chair, very wary of any dried up fluids that you might come in contact with. “I know he did not cheat on me, Jax, the very notion is completely ridiculous.”

Jackson stops chewing and looks away from the WWE match playing on the TV to squint at you. “I’m…confused? Wait. What is the problem, then? What are you mad at him for?”

To be completely honest, you aren’t quite certain yourself.

But you do know that you don’t feel good. And that this feeling has been building up over a couple months, but you have only really acknowledged it head-on, today, in all five-something years of your relationship. Five years, seven months and eight days, to be exact, but that’s kinda besides the point.

You’ve had at least a few months’ worth of buildup that has gotten you to this point, you would admit. Especially after Seokjin had to cancel that visit to your hometown at the end of June, for your parents’ thirty-fifth wedding anniversary celebration because he had an important audition for a big-brand ad film. The cancellation was acceptable, but his offhand comment that, “thirty-five isn’t even that special, we’ll get them a huge gift for their fiftieth,” stayed with you longer than it should’ve. Things got okay-ish when you reminded yourself how Seokjin never really thought too hard about things he said, always being a humorous, unattached clown in every situation. But this morning's dismissal has pushed you over that edge. You straightaway goaded him, claiming he doesn’t remember how to make it up to you, and all you got in response was his shock and being called “ridiculous” and “overdramatic.” Fun.

You were most certainly joking, if a bit caustically, when you said what you did. He could have taken it as a joke and laughed it off. He could have taken it as a threat and comforted you, said it was Jimin that used his room, and maybe kissed you. You already knew what had happened when you saw the girl, anyway. But this was probably the third time this situation had happened, this month.

Sure, you are understanding and really do know Jimin and what all he gets up to, but is that really supposed to be such a given? Asking your boyfriend to hug you close and kiss your forehead when you discover a girl in his bed just as you were about to cuddle the lump of sheets thinking it was him, is not too much to expect, is it?

Granted, Seokjin has never been extremely expressive, but still. It feels like he’s consciously trying to keep you at a distance, these past few months.

You don’t have the complete grasp of the storm of thoughts in your head yet, but you want to try and explain it to Jackson the best you can.

“It was about respect, in a way, I guess,” you quietly mumble, and Jackson turns the TV off, now sitting cross legged on the couch to face your chair. He puts away his takeout container to frown at you, probably gleaning how serious this is for you. “He stood there, without saying a single word, expecting me to stop being mad. Almost willing me to stop being mad by making these big, incredulous eyes at me. Like it was that horrible of his girlfriend to demand for an explanation when she found a girl in his bedroom. It was just the two of us, I wasn’t making a scene in front of anybody. He just—ugh! He could’ve simply asked me to not be mad, said it was Jimin who spent the night in the room and maybe even laughed about it, or plotted Jimin’s murder—I would’ve joined in—but no. He acted like I was being stupid, told me not be ridiculous and dramatic. And that made me feel really stupid.”

Jackson winces. “And why do you think you were not being stupid?”

You exhale. “I wasn’t. Because I wasn’t actually accusing him of anything, and five years down the lane, he should know that now. I just wanted him to say it and not scold me when I tease-taunted him. He always expects me to know everything. And even though I always do, it gets tiring sometimes. These weird thoughts get to you — that maybe you’re being too understanding and he’s using that to his advantage, you know?” You look down at your lap, playing with your nails. “It’s just…um. I wanted him to coddle me, I guess. To treat this as something big because I was throwing a tantrum about it and, just, I don’t know—try to cajole me? Assuage me with his words, maybe? But he didn’t. Because he hasn’t done that in forever. Because I never need him to, because I always freaking understand everything!” A sob leaves you.

Jackson pats the place next to him. “C’mere, you dumdum, and stop hyperventilating,” he mumbles, hugging you to his side when you move to sit on the couch. “I don’t exactly understand how the relationship dynamics work, but from what you told me, I get that you wanted attention? Some loving? And instead you got disappointed looks because Jin expected you to be mature and rational about it — the way you always are — and that too with his fucking eyes and some low-key insult words? Is it something like that?”

Wow, Jackson really paraphrased all that amazingly. “Yes, actually. It’s exactly that.”

Jackson sighs. “Y’all have been together a long time, babe, so I guess it’s kind of a given that you’d get to a no-bullshit point. Which is why he hasn’t done that in forever, because y’all probably don’t need that kinda stuff between you anymore.”

“I get that, it’s how a relationship matures. But I’m pretty certain that it’s not supposed to make me feel like this,” you sound slightly muffled, having stuffed your face into Jackson’s hoodie-covered chest. “I feel—I feel like we got too comfortable and now he’s just started to take me for granted. And I also feel like I’m being too needy. Am I being needy and annoying? He’d hate me if I told him all this, won’t he? Half of the reason we’ve worked out so well is because we’re both career oriented and don’t waste time overthinking stupid shit.” You gasp. “Oh, no—would he leave me? He’s used to his girlfriend being mature, not needy—”

You are cut off when Jackson pulls you away by your shoulders, giving you a serious look. “Wait, wait, stop. What did you say? Not the needy part, you’re allowed to be needy once in all the damn three-sixty-five days y’all stay busy for. The…taking you for granted part. Pretty big of a thing to say, babe.”

You sigh. “We haven’t been on an actual date in months. Seokjin thinks there’s no need for that extra effort when we spend lunch breaks at work together, everyday. Outside of the restaurant, our meetings involve our entire flock of friends by default. It’s been three months since we slept together.” You sniff, hating having to impart such a private detail of your life. “So no, I don’t think it’s that big of a thing to say, at all.”

“Wow.” Jackson gives a slow whistle. “You’ve really been bottling up a lot in there, huh?”

You shrug. “I guess. It never made me feel underappreciated, though. Sure, I was irritated at some occasions and disappointed at others, but… Today I feel horrible, Jax.”

“Did you share anything with Byulyi?” he asks, referring to your flatmate and good friend since college.

You shake your head. “She already has a lot on her plate, right now. She got rejected by the photographer she wanted to intern with, so it’s back to freelancing for her.”

“Yeah, that must suck.” Jackson grimaces. Then he looks at you. “You need to take a break, hun. Sit back, today, and have tacos and beer with me. Reset your inner thoughts. Talk to Jin tomorrow. Although, I must say, it’s kinda depressing that you have to actually tell your boyfriend that he’s being a bad boyfriend. Isn’t that kind of shit supposed to be realized on your own?”

You purse your lips. “I guess, yeah. But…don’t say that he’s being a bad boyfriend, Jax. I don’t think he even realizes something is wrong.”

“And that…doesn’t make it worse?” At your raised eyebrows, he concedes with a roll of his eyes. “Fine, fine, in any case — maybe try to hint at it before you dive straight in with the kill? See if he reacts?”

“I don’t know, Jax. What if he doesn’t? He’s really not the best at taking hints and reading signs, or that kind of subtle stuff.”

“Then you can just say your shit. All I’m saying is, give him a chance to figure it out on his own. He’s probably really clueless why you reacted so big on something so small, this morning. If you drop hints, maybe he’ll feel it out.”

You nod, somewhat amazed at how sound Jackson’s advice seems. “How are you doing this, Jax? Being a love guru all of a sudden?”

Jackson scoffs. “I’m just tryna put myself in Seokjin’s shoes. If I was in the situation he’s in, this is what I’d like to happen — be given a window to figure out what’s wrong. You’ve been together a long time, hun. It really shouldn’t be that difficult for him.”

You shrug a shoulder. “I won’t be too sure about that. Why does it even matter if he can or cannot, though?”

Jackson seems to be mulling over something before he drops his chin to his chest. “Because you’re supposed to be partners, hun. If you can tell what’s up with him with a single glance, why can't he? Not being good at taking signs is not a good enough excuse. My gut says that he’d be able to, though. And that knowledge will make you feel infinitely better, trust me. It’ll be reassuring to learn that he really knows and understands you well, won’t it?”

You nod, slowly, but you still have your suspicions. Seokjin has just been the kind of guy whose emotional depth goes to a certain extent and then just — well, stops. There are things that he feels and realizes and sees, and there are things that he doesn’t. It isn’t even something he does, you believe. It’s just how he is. Certain feelings just don’t fall in his orbit. And you’ve never found there to be anything wrong with it when he’s been an immaculately amazing boyfriend and tended to every single one of your needs, always. Well, you have never actually needed emotional consoling, too, so you haven’t had the chance to audition him for that. You keep yourself too busy for all that unnecessary mental pressure. It comes as a surprise, but you have never cried on Seokjin’s shoulder in all these years of your togetherness. You’ve kept your head straight and chin up, even during your college exams. And so has Seokjin, because you’ve never seen him cry, either.

Lately, though, things have been kind of weird. The gradual transformation into your professional lives that began after college, has been drastic in the past few months. Seokjin has been constantly prioritizing his career over you, and you have been understanding about it because you agree with it — to an extent. Seokjin believes it all the way through, though, and you have known for a while that you would hit your limit at some point, and would try to bring him back to yourself. Today morning, it seems, you hit that limit.

You felt dispensable.

You hate this feeling.

To be very honest, you know you can get over this. You can give it some time, remind yourself of how much your Jin loves you, believe that he is eventually going to come back to you once he settles, and be understanding about the entire thing.

You can — but you really don’t want to.

Something tells you that this feeling of getting too comfortable will only fester and take a worse form as time goes by. You can wait it out, sure, and hope you aren’t being a pushover as he works on building his career. You are building your career, too, after all, and at least some of it has been for each other.

The thing is, your plans with Seokjin are long-term—marriage, kids, white-picket fence, and all that. And you believe that if you are sensing a problem now, you better deal with it now before it has the chance to change its form and affect you both when you are at a more responsible point in your life.

Mind made up, you look up at Jackson, immediately grimacing when he forwards a greasy hand to pick up a taco for you. “I don’t…I don’t like tacos. And may I exchange the beer for scotch?”

“You work at a Mexican restaurant, and you don’t like tacos,” Jackson deadpans.

“They mess up my skincare.”

“Oh, fuck off! Have a spinach smoothie with a drink, why don’t you?”

You purse your lips to hold back your laughter at his ire, your own worries forgotten in the moment as Jackson gets up to get you a glass of scotch and some healthier snacking alternative.

“You're a dead man.”

Jimin stops dead in his tracks, arms frozen in the act of putting a t-shirt on. He blinks at Seokjin with big round eyes. “Hyung?” he mumbles, a picture of unblemished innocence, especially when he covers his toned torso with the oversized t-shirt he was in the process of getting into. “What—what’d I do?”

Someone who doesn’t know better would never believe that this young, innocent, frazzled haired fairy-boy could ever do any wrong. But Seokjin knows better. “You chaotic womanizer,” Seokjin nearly hisses, "you've gotta learn to clean after yourself. Honey found a girl in my bed. A girl—in my bed.”

Jimin had the decency to drop the innocent act. “Oh. Oh.”

Seokjin raises a brow. “Oh? That’s it?”

"Yeah, well, I clarified to her that it was a one time thing when we got to it. She was obviously expecting something more if she didn't leave when I told her to. Disappointed but not surprised." Jimin is frowning when he comes to sit down on the couch next to Seokjin. “Sorry you two had to see that. You clarified to Honey noona that I’d been the occupant of the room, though, right?”

“I—what?” Seokjin scoffs. “Why would I even need to do that? She knows that already, obviously. She’s been seeing you for over five years, or have you forgotten?”

Jimin squints. “I mean…okay, fair point, I guess. Why’re you so worked up, then? Did something else happen, too? Where’s she, now?” Jimin looks around the living room as if looking for you.

Seokjin sighs. “Well, I couldn't really get much out before she was storming out of the damn house, altogether.”

Jimin blinks. “Storming out? Why? She… um, was she mad?"

Seokjin opens his mouth – and then shuts it. Was she mad, indeed. "I don't know. She looked kinda mad, yes. But maybe she was in a hurry?"

"Why would she be mad? Did you try to call her? Text her? It's unlike her to react so big on something so small." Jimin bites down on his lip, looking lost in thought.

Seokjin shakes his head. "She didn't pick up or text back."

“There’s definitely got to be an underlying reason for her being like this. Are you sure you guys haven’t been fighting, hyung?”

Seokjin sighs. “Yes, Jimin, I’m absolutely certain that there hasn’t been any fighting of any sorts between the two of us before today.” He pauses. “Well, she was slightly irritated that I didn’t check her texts last night, but she knows I go to bed at eleven on days leading up to a shoot, so that one’s on her.”

Jimin looks genuinely concerned, which, in turn, makes Seokjin concerned. Jimin isn't the type to stress over stuff if he can help it. Sure, he cares about the boys and would always be down to do whatever he can for them, but his throwing-caution-to-the-wind way of life causes him to not take most of the things in life seriously.

You’ve been like an older sister to the boys ever since Seokjin started dating you and introduced you to them. They all have their ways of showing their respect and affection to you. Well, maybe not Jungkook because he can’t get over getting unnecessarily intimidated by Seokjin enough to relax around you.

Jimin, especially, always seems to be affected by any tension in Seokjin’s relationship. Everyone can see how it upsets his entire life when you two are fighting, although he’d never admit to it. He doesn’t need to, because it’s pretty obvious when he becomes a cranky six-year-old who hates the world.

Right now, he has a guilty frown on his face. "I should've seen to it that Suzette left before I went to shower," he mumbles as if talking to himself. “Shouldn’t have trusted her to leave just because I told her to.” He looks up at Seokjin with troubled eyes. "I'm sorry, hyung."

Seokjin can not believe himself when he shakes his head at Jimin's apology—this little demon causes so much chaos in all their lives that any apology coming from him should be justified and welcome. But this one isn't really on him. "It's not entirely your fault."

Jimin's demeanor changes a bit and the attitude Seokjin is used to witnessing makes an appearance. "Right? That's what I was thinking, too!" Jimin exclaims, some of the concern on his face lifting. "You have to talk to Honey noona and make things right, though, hyung. She’s the only womanly touch in our man cave. We’d all be barbarians without her.” Jimin looks very wary and kind of nervous.

“It’s funny you would crave her ‘womanly’ presence when she’s rushed off because of a woman that you brought home.” Seokjin scrunches his nose. "And I said it isn't entirely on you, because it is partially on you, Park Jimin. You borrowed my room to smoke up in. Why couldn't you take your Suzy back to your own room?"

"Suzette," Jimin corrects under his breath while shaking his head. "Yeah, I should've, but… your room just felt like a better choice during the high," he finishes in a mumble, dragging a hand down his face. “Hyung,” Jimin says with a pout on his lips, “the last time you two fought was two years ago, remember? On your birthday? When Hobi hyung dumped cake in noona’s hair and she had her first shoot for that bigshot magazine, the next day?”

Seokjin nods with a sigh. “She yelled at me for having stupid friends, and I yelled at her for caring more about the shoot that having a good time on my birthday. Yes, I remember.”

“And then she didn’t visit us for a whole week. Please don’t let that happen, again.” Jimin looks up at Seokjin with big, round eyes. “I can’t take that kind of unrest in my life."

Seokjin briefly wonders, if Jimin’s nightly conquests were to see this side of him, would they run in the opposite direction or be more attracted to him? Jimin definitely needs someone in his life that would bring out this side in him and stay to provide him the emotional comfort he requires when he gets like this.

“I will try not to, Jiminie, but…” Seokjin shuts his eyes. “I seriously do not understand her actions from the morning,” he finishes in a mumble.

“Maybe she’s—maybe she’s worried about something else? Some other aspect of her life?” Jimin suggests with wide eyes. “And she’s just projecting onto you.”

“As sound as the explanation is, I am literally involved in ninety percent of the aspects in her life,” Seokjin says with a twist to his lips. “I would know if something was wrong anywhere.”

“That’s cocky of you to say,” Jimin snarkily comments with narrowed eyes. At Seokjin’s raised eyebrows, he amends, “That’s cocky of you to say, hyung-nim.”

Seokjin scoffs, but then he shrugs his shoulders. “It’s true. We work at the same restaurant, we’re scouted by the same agency. Even her agent is best friends with mine—she gossips a ton about how Honey passes up so many opportunities and pisses her agent off. Her friends are, well—” Seokjin stops short when it hits him. “Wang. Wang could know something!”

Jimin is looking at him skeptically when Seokjin meets the younger’s eyes. “I just think you should have a simple talk with noona first before digging around.”

That is sensible advice. Seokjin nods as he pulls his phone out.

“Just find out what’s been troubling her, hyung. You two are rational people, I’m sure you’ll work it out.” Jimin pauses to scratch the back of his head. “Just please don’t let this be another fight like that one?”

“Don’t worry,” Seokjin finally says with a pat on Jimin’s shoulder as he finishes sending off another text to you, “this one is nothing like that fight.”

Turns out, this fight really is not like that one. Or any other fights Seokjin has ever had with you, in fact, because you’re giving him the silent treatment.

You’ve never given him the silent treatment.

Not even when you were students and didn’t have a load of time on your hands and used to waste precious sleep hours arguing over stupid shit that would probably resolve itself if you just slept on it and looked back at it with a fresh state of mind. Not even then did you forego talking.

Needless to say, Seokjin is distressed.

You drive to the house to pick him up at your usual time, the next morning, after not having responded to any of his calls or texts for the entire day. Seokjin is aghast as he gets into the car.

“Honey! What is going on? Why didn’t you—where have you been?”

You simply start the engine and take off. “Busy,” you murmur after a while.

Soekjin’s head is close to exploding. “Busy? Doing what?”

Your face remains stoic as you weave through the morning traffic. Seokjin looks at you. You’re dressed up in your waitressing outfit that consists of a shirt, skirt and tights, and being who you are, Seokjin can proudly say that you would stand out to be the most well dressed server in the field. You’re always pristine and tidy — no accidents happen to you at the job ever. No spillage of drinks or ketchups, no soiled hands being wiped down on your skirt. Nothing even ruins your manicure.

It is something that Seokjin has always tried to keep up with, this cleanliness streak of yours. Because he has always assumed you would expect it out of him, too. You were attracted to the cover model version of him, after all. It is quite natural that you would have those kinds of expectations. And Seokjin has always been more than happy to deliver. It has become a part of him, in fact. He doesn't even chew with his mouth open even when he's among the boys, anymore.

It has, somewhat, made him practical and less emotional in life, too, but he doesn't really think of it as a bad thing. You have always been practical in life – the most ambitious girl he has ever met, someone that has always prioritized her career and goals over everything else. Seokjin has admired that since college, and has tried to show you that he has similar priorities even if he has had to work on thinking from his mind more than his heart.

But when you are already by his side, what does he even need his heart for, anymore, when it's already yours?

Now, looking at you sitting with a morose expression on your face as you give him the cold shoulder, Seokjin is just as much in love with you as he was when he first met you.

“Stuff,” you say with a shrug, after some extended silence. “You should know about that, right? Your schedule’s always busier than mine and I never complain.”

Your sharp words have him reeling. Whatever do you even mean by that? “Uhm, okay. Fair enough. But… did you really not have the time to respond to a single text?”

“It gets impossible sometimes, Jin, you know how it is.”

Seokjin frowns. He does know that, but he doesn’t feel okay. Something is very off with you. It is as if you’re saying something else and expecting him to discern a different meaning out of it.

He doesn’t understand why, though. You, of all people, should know how terrible he is at decoding signs.

He sighs.

Seokjin, after his conversation with Jimin yesterday, had decided to ask you about the morning’s incident, head on, whenever you called him back. But you didn’t, and this is the first opportunity he’s had to talk to you, so he decides to bring it up, now. “What—what happened yesterday morning, babe? You got really mad and stormed off, and… I mean, you’ve got to know the girl had been Jimin’s companion for the night, right? You know him, how he is!”

You say nothing, hands tightening a bit on the steering wheel. Seokjin looks down at his own hands.

“You know I was only surprised at your words because we really do not have the time to be discussing silly things." He shuts his heart down when it tries to tell him to go soft. He knows it isn't something you would appreciate. "After five years, you know what I’m capable of right? You can never start getting ideas, because that would be insane and stupid. I’m already so supremely occupied as it is between two jobs, when would I even have the time to cheat, right?” he jokes, snorting to himself.

You’re still quiet, but your tongue comes out to moisten your lips. It is a nervous tick of yours which Seokjin recognizes very well, because with your skincare and scheduled regular application of lip balms, your lips never need the extra moisture.

He frowns. Was he too straightforward? But this is exactly how you communicate with him! “Hey, is everything okay, babe?”

You exhale, noisily. “Everything’s fine, Jin,” you finally say with a roll of your eyes. “And you’re right. I know you wouldn’t cheat. You don’t have the time to chat me up, how are you gonna pick someone new to impress, huh?”

Your snort sounds lacking in humor, but Seokjin still gives a couple of stilted chuckles. Even so, he's still somewhat relieved. “Right. Just so we’re certain, that was a joke, right? I mean, it would be really ridiculous of you to think that I would—”

“Yes, Jin!” you cut him off with a deep frown. “If I wanted to talk to you about something, or accuse you, or confront you — I’d do that without you having to prompt me. Stop obsessing over yesterday and stop trying to explain yourself. I know it was Jimin’s doing.”

Seokjin feels immensely relaxed at the conviction with which you say the last sentence, certainly, but something is still off. “Why were you ignoring me, then?”

“I just didn’t have anything to say to you.” You stop at a red light, the last one before you reach the restaurant, and turn to look at Seokjin with really vacant eyes. He doesn’t like your stare one bit. “We’ve been together five years, babe. If neither of us have got anything of significance to say, I’d rather not text too much, if that’s okay with you? I’ve got a busy schedule to work around, too, you know?”

Seokjin wants to remind you that both of you had something of significance to say after you left his place in anger, but chooses to just roll with whatever you’re playing at. Maybe he's thinking too much. He nods. “Sounds alright to me.”

“Great,” you breathe out, somehow looking disappointed along with the preexisting sorrowful expression you had on your face.

You really do not have a concrete explanation for why you acted the way you did with Seokjin, this morning.

You were supposed to hint at being mad, not blatantly try to give him a taste of his own medicine. It could turn out to be a good thing if he eventually starts to miss you and reaches out, sure, but playing mind games never feels right to you. But when he started to joke about not having time to cheat, and something just turned off in you. He really could’ve seriously reassured you of his love. That would’ve been actually comforting. But no. He chose to joke about that, too. You didn’t feel like putting in all that energy anymore, after that.

Now, you sit down in the break room to check your phone during your ten minutes’ rest break. A text message floats at the top of your notifications.

Jax 🚽 Hey How’d it go?

With an exhale, you decide to call him back. Your fingers are too tired to type, and Jackson is sure to launch off into a rampage of texts the moment you tell him you’ve tried to turn the tables on Seokjin.

Seokjin is in the kitchen, his usual rest break not being for another hour, so you don’t have to worry about him walking in.

“Hey!” Jackson jovially greets you as soon as he picks the phone. “Did you get my text?”

“I did, yes,” you respond in a calm voice. “I’ve been looping milkshake mugs through my fingers since eight am, they needed some rest, so I decided to call.”

“Yeah, no, it’s cool. I was in a really boring class, anyway. So. How'd it go?"

You pull in your lip between your teeth. "I… I kinda ended up telling him I am a busy person too and that we shouldn’t text that much."

You hear silence instead of the outburst you'd expected.

"Jax?"

"Are you actually gonna try to play a mind game with the dumbest human being you know on earth?" Jackson so very eloquently asks, his interpretation making you pinch the bridge of your nose. “He’s never even gonna figure it out!”

“I know how it sounds, okay?” You exhale. “I honestly don’t know what came over me.”

“Okay, alright, one thing at a time. So, no coddling?"

"Not a single soft word. Just more expectations of me understanding, and claiming that anything but that would be stupid of me. He acts like I'm supposed to know everything about him and everyone in his group of friends," you mutter in irritation. “As if those dumbasses know the first thing about themselves.”

You realize you're being a bit harsh, because his friends – basically your younger brothers, at this point – are a bunch of clueless idiots that love, adore and respect you. You shouldn't be badmouthing them, Seokjin’s growing callousness towards you isn't their doing. It's his own.

You sigh. You really miss how things used to be when you were in college.

“Uh, I think we need to rewind a bit. What happened? What triggered this?”

It makes you smile a little when Jackson asks that. At least your best knows you’re not wholly clinically insane. “Well… I drove him to work. He…" your brows lower at the recollection, "he was the first to bring up yesterday morning. And yet again, he gave me the same you've got to know this and that crap, and then he tried to assure me in the dumbest possible way. Do you know what he said, Jax, do you?”

“Um, do I wanna know?”

“He said, and I quote, he doesn’t have the time to cheat. Jackson Wang, are you hearing this? He really straight up said he was too busy to cheat on me and so I should rest assured! Who says that?!”

“He must’ve meant it as a joke—”

“Yeah, he said that, too, and then very immaculately added that it’d be ridiculous of me to think otherwise. I have lost count of how many times the words ridiculous and stupid came up.”

“Goddammit.”

“Goddammit is right,” you mumble, morosely resting your head on your palm.

“What did he say, by the way? When you told him to text less?”

You give a wry chuckle. "Well, he said it sounded alright to him."

"Son of a bitch. You – you two are messed up, man. Messed up bad. Why the hell can you not just say shit you really mean and actually want to instead of saying shit you don't? You don't wanna text less because you're busy, you want him to dote on you because you miss him!" Jackson sounds beyond frustrated. "And it doesn't fucking sound alright to him! It sounds scary, it sounds confusing, it sounds like something you would never say to him!" He groans. "But none of you would say that shit to each other! You’re choosing to be evasive and fucking plastic instead of honest, and falling deeper into your mess."

You reel from the onslaught of his harsh words, eyes widened and breath stuttering. Jackson isn't usually the type to pay so much attention to your relationship problems. But this time, you guess, he has garnered the depth of your unhappiness and thus has gotten so involved.

You realize he is right. Nothing good can come out of any turned tables, because Seokjin is, anyways, not even going to be able to work out the problem by himself. He may even go around talking to his friends about how you were being cold with him and not giving him any time, and still not realize he has been doing the same to you. He is thick like that.

When his friends tell you tales of his compassion, you're unable to relate. You've never seen that side of him. He has probably grown up from that emotionally overwhelmed high school graduate who had made friends on a whim, the night of his graduation.

You certainly don't appreciate the emotional abstinence, though, and would very much rather prefer if he would open up a bit more. It would help you be more open with him, without fearing him calling you "stupid" in response.

But it’s still alright, you accept him with that thick brain of his, because he’s still only ever going to be the only one for you.

"How are you two gonna get around to having a proper chat if you just keep building more walls between you both?" Jackson asks after the long pause from your end, this time softer. “I’m sorry, babe, I was wrong. Giving him signs and making him realize shit won’t work. It was stupid of me to suggest that. It’s probably why you ended up being so caustic with him.

“No, no, it was all me, Jax. I could’ve chosen to not listen to you, but my ego got in the way, I guess. It’s not exactly easy, telling your boyfriend you’re feeling neglected. I mean, what if he laughs in my face and tells me I’m being paranoid? What if he thinks I have no regard for his career — or mine — because my priorities don’t align with his?” You bite your lip, shutting your eyes as your insecurities attack you.

“Hey, no. None of that is gonna happen if you really share with him what you’ve been feeling. No hints, no sarcasm, you’re gonna have to tell him point blank. Allow yourself to be raw. He’s the love of your life. You don’t have to protect yourself from him, right?”

You sigh. “Yeah, I know. You’re absolutely right, Jax. But I really have no idea how to even approach him, at this point. He’s either too busy with shoots, or with the guys, or some meeting. I cannot do this on call, because that always leads to misunderstandings.” You bite down on your lower lip, contemplating. “But I’ll figure something out.”

"Yes, you will. You always do. So, that’s good then. In the meanwhile, can you at least clean up this latest pile of poop? The talking less thingy is gonna make you two more distant, hun."

You scrunch your nose at his metaphor, but then your shoulders slump. "I don't know, Jackson. The way he so impassively agreed to it would make me sound really stupid if I take it back. And given what he keeps saying, he really doesn’t want me to sound stupid."

Jackson gives a snort at that. “Hah, funny. But listen. At the end of the day, he’s your boyfriend. You're gonna have to really decide if you're trying to get your boyfriend to give you more love, or if you're fighting a battle of egos and would like to bend him to you."

You bite your lip. “You make me sound manipulative.”

“You yourself confessed you let your ego come into this, one time. Don’t let that happen again. I’m trying to make you realize that complicated problems can have simple solutions, too. If only you’d communicate. Just talk to him soon, please, and make him understand why you’re hurt. Don’t carry on with this stupid cold war, okay? You gotta figure out exactly what you want, first.”

“You know what I want, Jax. You’re literally the only person that does, actually,” you remind him with a sigh.

“Oh, he is, isn’t he?”

You freeze, eyes bulging at the familiar voice. “I’ll… I’ll call you back,” you mumble before you disconnect the call and turn to look over your shoulder at Seokjin’s unreadable face. He stands with his arms crossed, still in his uniform but without the apron. “Jin… what—uh…”

“What am I doing here?” he scoffs, lips curling in distaste as he stares you down. “Well, I was going to the loo when I saw you sitting here. You looked upset, so I thought I’d check in on you on my way back.” He clicks his tongue, a dry chuckle tumbling out. “But apparently, you’ve got other people doing it for you, already.”

You wince, shutting your eyes. The one time he was finally going to give you some much needed attention — you sent a bad message his way.

“So. Good to know there actually is someone who knows what you want. Would’ve been easier if it were me, though, given how I stand to be the one that is to deliver.” Seokjin sounds pissed off, and despite your irritation, you really want to make him understand.

You rub at your forehead. “Stop talking like that, Jin, it was just Jackson.”

“Wang?” He seems to seethe more, for some reason. “Of course, it’s fucking Wang!”

You frown, standing up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Seokjin looks at you incredulously. “You—do you not see how this looks? You have problems with me, Honey, but you choose to discuss them with him? Who’s he, your therapist?”

“He’s my best friend, Jin, someone I trust,” you grit out.

Seokjin seems to take it the wrong way, his agitated expressions slowly fading into a blank stare. “Oh. You trust him, as opposed to…” He trails off with a shrug, but the implication is as obvious as it can be.

“Jin—”

He raises a hand up, palm facing you as he looks away. “If you need some time apart, you should tell me in plain words. You know I’m not good at reading signs.”

Seokjin gives you a blank stare before turning around to leave the area. You stand rooted to your place, jaw dropped and eyes wide.

Some time apart? Has he lost his mind?

He really is a huge freaking idiot who cannot pause to think what implications his words have. He seriously doesn’t recognize what all his “don’t be ridiculous/overdramatic/stupid” speeches do to you. You realize you should really make him understand. This has gone on for way too long.

But maybe you should take some time to yourself to cool off before that. You don’t want to say the wrong thing in your rage and complicate things further.

You sigh to yourself as you slump back into the bench you were sat on before.

You’d set out to tell your boyfriend you were feeling neglected, but you ended up making him think you want to be apart. How the heck did you get here?

You belatedly recall Jackson's words.

Why the hell can you not just say shit you really mean and actually want to instead of saying shit you don't?

You’re choosing to be evasive and fucking plastic instead of honest, and falling deeper into your mess.

Your usually dumbheaded best friend was right on this one, you realize. You should’ve just talked like a normal human being instead of letting Seokjin’s words get to you and get pissy in retaliation.

You give a weary sigh.

Seokjin is grateful for the sudden busyness he’s got on his schedule, or he would explode from all the pent up frustration you have been causing him.

He realized he wasn’t as upset with you as he was irritated, right after he walked away from you on Monday. He dropped you a text with some excuse of needing to stay back so that he wasn’t forced to ride with you in the car again, and later took the bus home.

You had told Jackson Wang about what was troubling you, but not him. It made Seokjin feel upset, incompetent and more than a little insecure. Seokjin absolutely hates feeling insecure. Especially about you. You’re the singular most precious entity in his life — not that you are an entity, per se — and anything that seeks to threaten your position in his life or his position in yours, makes him lose his shit.

So it was understandable that he jumped to unfairly disproportionate magnitudes of conclusions that day. When he thought about it, later, he could easily tell that you are just mad at him and not actually contemplating leaving him, not even for a little while. Not that he’d just sit back and have you do that so easily.

Seokjin also hates overthinking, but that is all he did for the entirety of his Monday.

Monday, though, was the last time he had time to overthink. Life got exponentially busier after that.

Immediately after his shoot on Tuesday, he received his agent’s call and was informed of his jam packed schedule for the remainder of the week. He was pulled into two separate magazine ad shoots on Wednesday, a perfume ad film drank up all of his Thursday, and today, a hair product ad film needed him to report to a sunrise point in the city at the ass-crack of dawn. The sky was still dark when he rode across the city with his agent at nearly four in the morning.

And now, the afternoon sun beats down on his car as he drives back alone, his agent staying back to tend to some business. Stopping at a red light, he reaches for his spinach smoothie with one hand and his phone with the other. Ugh, he feels beyond tired.

Blearily, he looks down at the device around a yawn, fingers habitually reaching for your chat.

He took a week off from the restaurant and dropped you a text, late Tuesday evening, informing you of the same.

Honey✨❤👸 Hm, kay. Good luck x

Unsurprisingly, that stands to be your last message in his inbox. It’s been four days.

Sighing, he swipes a hand down his tired face and exits out of the message app. He went to bed at nine o’clock, last night, and owing to the way he has trained his body to sleep on command, he did manage to get a sleep of nearly six hours, too. But it was fitful and plagued with nightmares featuring you.

Knowing he doesn't have to be at the restaurant until Monday and that his next gig isn’t until Wednesday, he cannot wait to get back home and drink his weight in alcohol before he sleeps his way through the weekend.

Just as he has moved past the intersection, his phone rings.

Honey✨❤👸 calling...

He nearly spits the smoothie he just sipped at.

Coughing, he roughly jostles the plastic cup back in the holder and pulls up to a side of the road to pick up the call. “Hey,” he breathes into the phone, embarrassed at his desperation.

“Jin. Um, hi.” You sound awkward, as if you…have been compelled to call him due to some reason.

He is immediately worried. “Honey? Is everything okay, do you need something?”

He hates himself for being so concerned when you have been neglecting him for so many days – yet again, despite your spat at the restaurant – instead of finally talking to him about what’s bothering you, but he can’t help it. At the end of the day, you are the love of his life.

“Yes, yes, I’m okay. It’s just, um. Can you pick me up from the restaurant?” you sound nervous.

But, Seokjin realizes, I was right. You do need something. He clears his throat. “Uh, okay, I guess,” he agrees before stopping short when he realizes the time. “Wait, it’s barely even two. Why are you leaving?” he asks, confused and a little concerned. You work your shift till five every day and till eight on weekends.

“Tomorrow is Halloween, Jin. We’re closing for the weekend, remember?”

Seokjin’s mouth falls open on a gasp. He really had forgotten. “Oh. Oh, okay. Yeah, I’ll be there in five, wait up.”

He swerves the car into the lane and takes off in the direction of the restaurant.

He laughs at himself. He has been so caught up in work that he literally forgot Halloween. He wonders if this is what actual adulting is.

He is stopping before the restaurant within three minutes of your phone call, eyes immediately spotting your delicate figure standing on the sidewalk with your hands crossed against your chest.

You step down from the curb when you spot his car, and walk towards him. He watches your elegant legs as they beautifully fall in a straight line. Even when exiting your job as a waitress, you’re every bit the elegant model he met in college. Your hips sway tantalizingly, and something akin to longing swirls in his chest.

He composes himself quickly when you cross the car to get into the passenger’s seat. You awkwardly clear your throat as Seokjin busies himself with starting the vehicle, unsure if he should initiate conversation.

“Um, sorry about this. You were probably getting ready for shoot,” you finally say. “Byulyi dropped me off today. She wasn’t picking her phone up. I was trying to get a cab for half an hour. And the bus stop’s really far—”

“Hey, stop. It’s okay. You should’ve called me sooner.” Seokjin catches your apprehensive gaze on his oversized hoodie when he chances a glance at you. He sighs. “I was returning home from shoot, actually.”

He feels you stiffen, and he feels even more mentally drained at this. You used to be updated with his schedule to the tee — just short of having an actual copy of the calendar his agent carries on him. And the same goes for him with your schedule. This feels so wrong.

You are quiet for a while, your hands fidgeting in his peripheral vision.

“How—how was it?” you finally say, voice coming out like a croak.

Seokjin shrugs his shoulders. “The usual. Blinding, tiring, exhaustive. I did okay, I guess.”

He feels your gaze snap up to drill holes into his skull. Your eyes are wide when he checks. “Okay? Since when do you do anything less than amazing at shoots, babe?”

He feels endeared at your casual use of a pet name. “I had to get up at three in the morning and go through a skincare routine. Then drive across the entire city to get to the location, because they wanted to capture actual sunrise. I was more tired than excited by the time they rolled cameras, so.” He shrugs. “Can’t really say I gave my best today.”

You nod at his admission.

Seokjin almost jumps when his phone rings, again.

Jiminie calling...

He feels you shift in your seat. His mouth sours at the reminder of that Sue girl that started off this entire tussle between you and him. Fucking Jimin and his conquests. What happened to the shy and more than a little glum looking freshman he let into his living space, three years ago?

Your hand suddenly reaches forth to accept the call, putting it on loudspeaker, immediately. Seokjin gapes at you, momentarily looking away from the road.

“Uh…hyung?” Jimin’s confused voice echoes in the car.

Seokjin snaps out of his daze when you gesture towards the device. “Wh—Jimin, hi, what’s — what’s up?” he stumbles his way through a haphazard greeting.

“Hyung, I needed a favor. Are you on your way back from the shoot, right now?” Jimin asks, and Seokjin sees you freeze in your seat.

He feels a perverse sense of satisfaction. Yes, take that! Park Jmin knows of my schedule better than you do! This is what you get for ghosting me! “I was, yeah. What is it?”

“Oh, great! I kinda need your help, hyung. My tire gave out. Could you pick me up from the Kappa hall?”

Seokjin scowls. “Yah! Who am I, your butler? Hop on a damn bus!”

He notices you pursing your lips, no doubt finding his agitation humorous — you always do.

“Hyu~ng,” Jimin whines. “I would take the bus, but the next one leaves in forty-five minutes and I need to be back within an hour!”

“What? Why?”

“I started on my sem project really late, hyung, and now I gotta spend any time I can spare at the rehearsal hall. I’m meeting a choreographer here in an hour. Please help me out!” Jimin is still whining, and maybe his reasoning is kind of alright, but—

Seokjin is tired to his bones. He literally cannot drive all the way down to your apartment and then drive back to the university campus to pick Jimin up.

He sighs, wearily. “Jimin… I’m really tired.”

“And I’m really desperate, hyung! Dancing is tough! And the subject I've chosen, tougher. I haven't done ballet since first semester, Freshman year! I have to work my butt off and be done in under two months."

Seokjin exhales, feeling beyond exhausted. But then your finger is tapping on the screen and the call has been muted. Seokjin’s surprised eyes fly up to meet yours. You look conflicted, biting down on your lower lip as you shake your head with a frown.

“You should go home and rest, Jin. Leave the car with me, I’ll pick him up.”

“Hyung? Say something?”

Seokjin blinks. “You…”

You roll your eyes. “I’ll pick him up, yeah. He’ll drop me off and drive back to your place.”

“Hyung?! Did you put me on mute, or what? I can't hear a thing!”

“Tell him you’ll be there in ten!” you say, unmuting the call.

“I’m in the car, the network must have glitched. I’ll, uh… be there in ten?” Seokjin nervously finishes off, looking at you in question. You give him a nod, blinking slowly. “Wait up, okay?”

“Oh my God, thank you so much, hyung!” Jimin practically squeals through the phone. “I’ll be in the ice cream shop across the building. I love you, hyung-nim!”

Seokjin rolls his eyes and disconnects the call. He looks at you from the corner of his eyes as he takes a right, now moving in the direction of his apartment instead of yours. “You sure about this? Jimin, um, knows. About our…” Seokjin doesn’t want to call it the f-word, because he would like to believe that you two aren’t actually fighting. “You being upset, I mean,” he settles for the easier alternative. “He might ask questions.”

You give a small huff of wry laugh. “I can handle it, Seokjin. I’ve known Jimin for almost three years now.”

Seokjin doesn’t like it when you address him by his full name. And so, his lips remain pursed for the remainder of the ride, only parting to tell you to “drive safe and text me when you finally get home,” and then he walks inside his apartment without looking back.

He hears his car come to life and then speed away. He shuts his eyes, leaning against the kitchen counter. Gathering his emotional as well as physical bearings, he opens the refrigerator to rummage through some leftovers to munch on while he breaks out a six pack of Budweiser.

Before his fried rice has even reheated, Seokjin groans at the sight of an all too jovial Hoseok entering the kitchen with a glint in his eyes. “No, Hobi. Not now.”

“What? I didn’t say a word, hyung!”

Seokjin winces, shutting his eyes just as the microwave beeps. “I don’t have enough energy to deal with your general aura, right now,” he mumbles, extracting the piping hot glass bowl. He leans down to open one of the compartments beneath the kitchen table to get to the beer that he’s been dreaming of for nearly an hour, now. “I’m dead on my feet and—woah!” Seokjin gasps, cutting himself off.

Hoseok hops into the kitchen, coming around to stand behind Seokjin. “So you found ’em,” he says around a chuckle.

“Found ’em? This is you?” Seokjin whips his head around to glare at Hoseok up from his crouch. “Why is my liquor closet resembling a liquor shop, Hobi? Why do we have all this—” he turns around to read the labels, cursing under his breath. “Why do we have,” he pauses to count, “five bottles of Tequila and eight bottles of Vodka?”

Hoseok frowns in concern. “Eight? There should be ten, hyung, check again.”

Seokjin actually gasps, this time. “What the hell, Jung Hoseok? Explain yourself before I start throwing hands!”

Hoseok smacks a palm against his forehead, taking Seokjin by surprise, yet again. “Tonight’s the Halloween party, hyung! Did you actually forget?”

Seokjin screws his eyes shut, letting his head roll back with a frustrated whine. “No~o, don’t tell me it's tonight. Halloween’s tomorrow, right? Why is the party tonight?”

“Yes, hyung, Halloween in tomorrow, which is why it would be stupid to hold the party when Halloween is ending.”

Seokjin finds the logic to be very severely flawed, but his energy is draining out fast and he cannot keep up with this quarrel. There’s no point, anyway. He’s known about this party for nearly a month. And Hoseok isn’t going to postpone a whole party just because Seokjin is tired.

“You look tired, hyung. You should rest. Recharge yourself before the party, okay? There’s plenty of time.” Hoseok pats Seokjin on the shoulder with a kind smile.

“I’m not even in the mood to party, Hobi,” Seokjin mutters, reaching behind all the glass bottles to extract his pack of cans.

Hoseok scowls at Seokjin. “Because you’re upset about your fight, I realize that. All the more reason to party, hyung! Take your mind off it for some time, why don’t you? You don’t even have to dress up, come as yourself.”

“I’d rather just drink myself to sleep and not wake up for the next twenty four hours.”

Hoseok blocks his path as Seokjin moves to exit the kitchen. “Is Honey coming?”

Seokjin sighs, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know, Hobi. Did you invite her?”

“No, hyung, because you said you would.”

Seokjin clicks his tongue. He completely forgot. “Then she isn’t coming.”

Without listening to his protests, Seokjin trudges upstairs with his food and beer. He will be forced to come down for at least a couple shots, he is certain, so he better make as much of the time he has on his hands as he can.

These days, it seems to be becoming a pattern for you to do things without really understanding why you do them.

You nibble at your bottom lip as you recall how gaunt and pale Seokjin had looked when you sat in the car. You had been really self-centered as it is, not really keeping in touch with him for four days, and then reaching out when you needed help. You couldn’t bear to think, on top of everything, that he had driven you home despite his extreme exhaustion while you sat back selfishly and let him drive around the city to pick Jimin up when he looked like a ghost.

You shake your head at yourself as Jimin jogs down the road to enter the car, ten seconds after you texted him.

His gaze is slightly hesitant when he meets your eyes, even though his smile is nothing but genuine. “Hello, noona. How come you are…” he trails off, gesturing around the two of you.

You start the car, shrugging one shoulder. “Seokjin came to pick me up. Now you’re gonna drop me off.”

Jimin gives you a huge smile, before his eyebrows suddenly lower. You look away, veering onto the road. “Wait. Were you in the car with him when I called?”

You chuckle. “Yes.”

“Oh,” Jimin mumbles around a small laugh.

You hum to yourself as you drive, distracting yourself from the thoughts that keep encircling your head. Seokjin is your boyfriend, no matter how mad you might be at him — you love him and care about him. Which is why you have tried to help him out. Not to mention, you felt slightly guilty, as it is, about calling him to pick you up. Why is your gesture of goodwill bothering you, then?

This is what you do for people you care about. Seokjin would do the same.

Your train of thoughts suddenly comes to a screeching halt.

Would he? Would he, really?

“You okay, noona?”

You jolt back from your thoughts, wide eyes turning to look at Jimin. “Wha—yes, yeah, I'm fine.”

He cocks an eyebrow at you. “You’re gripping the wheel really hard.”

You look at your tightly clenched fists, and immediately ease them. “Oh, uh. Sorry. A lot on my mind, I guess.”

“Understandably,” Jimin mutters, looking out of the side window when you turn to look at him.

You purse your lips and press down on the accelerator.

A few beats of silence pass between you two before Jimin clears his throat. “Can I say something?” he asks you in a soft voice, looking nothing like the seductive persona he puts forth to get ladies falling in his bed.

You exhale. “Sure.”

“You, um. You are not just hyung’s girlfriend, you know?” he says slowly.

You scoff. “Of course, I do. I am also the very best server my restaurant has ever seen and the best struggling model you’ll ever meet, on the side.”

Jimin snorts, before giggling with his eyes closed. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

You do. But you do not want to face it. You want to be selfish, for once. You do absolutely know that you have been ignoring all the boys in your anger at Seokjin, but you absolutely do not wish to do anything about it. Not until you’ve resolved this tense air between you and Seokjin.

“You are also a part of our little family,” Jimin quietly finishes.

You suck your lips in at that. The word “family'' really gets to you.

He’s right, isn’t he?

All eight of you — well, nine, now, with the addition of Taehyung’s girlfriend — have been a family since the day you met these guys.

You smile as the memories start to filter in.

You had had a giant crush on Seokjin since the very first time you saw him in your Freshman year. Well, having a crush on the guy wasn’t that unheard of given how handsome he was. It also helped matters that he modelled for the cover page of your university’s journal within his first month in college. What surprised you was his reciprocated interest when you both finally got to know each other, thanks to Byulyi. Your current roommate was majoring in photography back then, and somehow roped the two of you into modelling for her portfolio. Seokjin asked you out during the sixth month of your Freshman year.

You recall being introduced to Yoongi in your Sophomore year, when he entered your college as a Music major. You found him laid back, calm but really sassy, and fun to be around. The three of you often hung out together, and you took immense pleasure in singling Seokjin out with the two of your sarcastic back and forths.

In your senior year, Hoseok transferred to your college as a Sophomore, and Taehyung and Jimin entered as Freshmen.

Hoseok was literally the most lively person you’d ever met in your life. There wasn’t a single moment of boredom next to him. He was easily given the responsibility of planning all your outings and parties, henceforth — a position he still holds with full competence.

Taehyung was usually found to be lost in his head more often than not in his initial college days. He was confused about his major for two entire semesters. With inputs from the group, when he eventually picked Art, he eased into college life. After that, he came out to be one of the weirdest and unwittingly funny guys in the group. You still don’t get how he was the first amongst all the boys to find him a girl.

Jimin was a really quiet and reserved individual, at first. He very rarely interacted with you all, choosing to stay holed up in his dorm room, instead, that Taehyung had forced him to share with him. You suspected he was recovering from a recent heartbreak. It became evident when he started dating someone within a week of getting into college, only to confess it was a rebound when he got dumped. The whoring around that began after the whole debacle is yet to cease, though. Obviously.

Hoseok comes from a really well-off family, and had brought along with him the four-bedroom apartment he currently resides in with Yoongi, Jimin and your boyfriend. His uncle gave it away to him, rent-free of course, and he proposed to share it with the rest of the guys. Seokjin and Yoongi were immediately on board, more than eager to leave the chaotic dorm life behind. Taehyung, contrarily, decided he wanted to get the whole college experience and refused to quit the dorms. Jimin, then, left the dorm he shared with Taehyung to move in with the elders.

You met Jungkook immediately after your graduation on the boy’s eighteenth birthday. He instantly struck you as a smart kid, really good at singing as well as art. Yoongi disclosed he wanted to be a music major in your college, and you tried to encourage Jungkook about it, but the guy could hardly even look at you. It was cute but also hilarious how much he was scared of Seokjin, and by principle, you.

You believe that is still true. Now that you think about it, you're pretty sure you haven’t seen Jungkook ever actually relax around the two of you.

“Noona?”

You blink, coming back to the present as Jimin calls out to you. You take a deep breath, the memories hitting you with tender emotions. All these people are really precious to you, aren’t they? The bunch of you really are a family, aren’t you?

A sad smile swims up to your face. You miss the boys.

When he calls again, you turn to look at Jimin, questioningly.

“Please don’t be mad at hyung,” he slowly says, looking down at his lap. In this moment, he looks quite unlike the Jimin you are used to and reminds you of, instead, the one you’d first met. “He might lack tact, sometimes, but he really loves you a lot. You’re his whole world. Whatever it is that you are angry about, you should tell him about it. I don’t think he would be able to figure it out by himself.”

This, you agree with. “I’ll try, Jiminie.”

“We all miss you. Especially Hobi hyung and I,” he says with a lopsided excuse of a smile.

You resist the urge to fluff his hair. Jimin and Hoseok have been like the younger brothers you never had. You miss them, too.

He suddenly chuckles. "And Yoongi hyung hides it well, but I think he's the one that misses you the most. No one helps him roast Jin hyung quite like you do."

You roll your eyes. "Of course not. It's a waste for Yoongi to even try to find a better partner at roasting Jin."

You spot your apartment building and pull up to it.

“I’ll try to talk to Jin as soon as I can, Jimin, I promise. Don't worry so much about it,” you say as you step out, patting the boy once on his head. "I miss you all, too."

You give a small wave and faint smile to him as he drives away.

tagging: @shrimpmsg

note: so! a lil bit of backstory and the infamous halloween party - how we feelin’ so far? the next part is ~12k words, too, and i’ll post it next wednesday, wait around~ 😘💕

SECOND PART OUT NOW: read here!

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hashtagartistlife · 4 years ago

Photo

IR hunger games AU

pt 4/???

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4

bonus comics under the cut + some more exposition

bonus cut 1:

bonus cut 2:

Recap of the story so far: yuzu gets picked as tribute for the hunger games. Ichigo manages to volunteer in her place. Rukia gets drawn to replace yuzu, and ichiruki end up being the tributes for district 12.

Ichiruki then meet urahara, their mentor, on the train to the capitol. On this train they may or may not have a conversation regarding the fact that Rukia saved Ichigo’s life as kids, and that they have consequently been dancing around each other for years now. I reserve the right to add more to this section later. Either way, they are awkward at best and frosty at worst as they enter the capitol.

At the capitol, they meet their stylists, uryuu and orihime. They are new stylists, who only graduated last year. This is their first official stylist job. This in itself is not that surprising, as district 12 was unpopular and often stuck with the inexperienced or not-quite-so-talented stylists. However, though uryuu and orihime are inexperienced, they are the furthest thing from untalented or unpopular - since they had been students, they have been somewhat of a rising star in the styling community. So, everyone is surprised when they both (separately) apply for the district 12 styling job, because they really could have had their pick.

Ishihime were both born and raised in the capitol, but their childhoods were far from the lavish, glamorous lifestyle commonly associated with capitol citizens. If the capitol had a caste system (which they do — it’s just unspoken, is all), they would be on the bottom rung — orihime grew up under her brother in as close to poverty as what you can get in the capitol, dreaming of the glitz and glamour of the upper crust life. Ryuuken, meanwhile, is very rich, but for whatever reasons uryuu ran away from home young and has been surviving on his own since. The fact that they both clawed their way up the ranks to become hunger game stylists out of pure talent and tenacity was a novelty for everyone, and contributed to their rising stardom.

Ishihime hadn’t met prior to their appointment as district 12 stylists, but they HAD heard of the other— it was a pleasant surprise to both of them that the other had also applied for the job. Though they only meet on the job, they click instantly and develop an easy working partnership to create a sensation with ichigo and rukia’s opening ceremony outfits. The outfits had a fire + ice theme, based on the fact that district 12 was a mining district (coal > fire, diamonds > ice).

Orihime applied to the district 12 job because of Ichigo— she saw him volunteering for his sister on TV and maybe fell a little bit in love with him, with the idea of him— how romantic, how heroic of him, how noble to be able to volunteer for his sister like that— the same age as her, and so handsome, too, she wants to be by his side, she wants to help him, she wants to make sure he looks his best at the games so that he can maximise his chances of returning to his sister… as stated previously Orihime grew up entrenched in the capitol mindset so she is not yet aware of how fucked up the whole system is. Uryuu, meanwhile, nobody is particularly sure why he applied for the job… he said something trite about wanting to use his skills where it’s most needed, how he likes a challenge, but orihime wonders if that’s really all there is to it— outwardly, he’s the picture perfect new graduate, enthusiastic, happy, proud of his job— but there are moments when they are being applauded for their latest creations when she thinks his expression goes a little sour… it’s always fleeting and gone so fast that she can never be sure however

Ichiruki, meanwhile, are the talk of the town. What with their stunning entrance at the opening ceremony and rukia’s public confession, all they have to do now is ride this wave of popularity all the way through the games for an easy win— unfortunately, they are both terribly bad at knowing how to manipulate this situation to their advantage. They both understand the gist of urahara’s plan — act like they’re falling in love— but neither of them understand WHY or HOW this will work. Why would the audience be invested in their falling in love? What exactly do they want to see? HOW do they act like they’re falling in love? (and, in Rukia’s case— how much of it should be pretend, how much of it is real?)

Enter Rangiku, the previous district 12 stylist. She and gin grew up in one of the districts, both hating the games and the capitol, until one day at 14 yrs old, gin said to her ‘i’m gonna make it so that you don’t have to be afraid of your name being called at the reapings no more’, volunteered as tribute, won the games, and promptly disappeared from her life.

Years later, rangiku sees gin on tv as the new host of the hunger games. She’s stunned and infuriated— she thought they both hates the capitol for what they did to the districts and now he’s WORKING for them? What the hell is he thinking? So rangiku packs up and moves to the capitol— her plan is to try to see him, to talk things out, surely there must be some kind of misunderstanding— but gin is all rich and famous now, and very heavily guarded, and she’s a nobody. There’s no way anyone will let her within ten feet of gin at all— so, rangiku decides she’s going to have to join the circus to talk to its head clown, and becomes a stylist.

Unfortunately, even as a stylist, she can’t get a word to him edgewise— and she’s starting to suspect that maybe it’s not that she can’t get to him, but that gin is actively avoiding her. She COULD climb the ranks until he can no longer avoid her— she is very good at this stylist gig, much to her surprise— but she doesn’t have the heart to do the backstabbing and bribing necessary for that. She is constantly warring between ‘I cannot pour my talent into something this morally bankrupt’ and ‘but maybe if I do my best, I’ll give my district’s kids a fighting chance’.

Eventually, by the time ichiruki step up, rangiku is so sick of having to dress kids up nicely for slaughter that she hands in her resignation, gives up on gin, and is getting ready to move back home to her district. That is, until she sees what an absolute record-breaker ichiruki are becoming, and start to hope again— that maybe, this year things will be different. That maybe, they will be different. That maybe, at least one of ‘her kids’ won’t go home in a coffin this year, will instead require outfits for a victory tour instead— a victory tour that is accompanied by their stylists… and the host.

So, rangiku comes back in an unofficial capacity to help ichiruki refine their act a bit more. But with less than one month left till the games commence, will what they come up with be enough to carry them through the entire games? And, even if it does— what will happen if at the end of it all, the two people who remain are ichigo and rukia— when only one person gets to return home alive?

Very unrelated point, but: ichigo apologised to rukia for grabbing her wrist post-tribute interview. Just wanted to clarify it is NOT alright to grab at people under any circumstances— ichigo did it in the heat of the moment, but when everything was cleared up he apologised for it. Had to mention this somewhere because it bothered me so much while drawing this installment— Ichigo you have NO room to be scolding the reporter for grabbing rukia, you did it not too long ago yourself! Having said that, that’s probably why he’s being very touchy about this— it was something that had been a sore point for him too very recently.

To be continued!

#bleach #ichiruki #bleach fanart #artist life #bleach art life #kurosaki ichigo #kuchiki rukia #hunger games au

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floralseokjin · 4 years ago

Text

⤑ made-up love song vii (m).

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

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

pairing; kim seokjin x reader au/genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, smut; includes jacuzzi (oral) sex, outdoor sex, the angst/drama comes knocking! words; 8,336

↪︎ chapter index

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

A few days after Arin’s birthday party school started back, and just as you’d known you got incredibly busy, incredibly fast. With admin and getting to know your new students you found that you were too distracted to dwell on all the things that had been worrying you. Yes, it was strange not being able to see Seokjin practically whenever you wanted, and yes, you missed him – and the summer, but with work so hectic it cushioned the blow. You didn’t have time to live inside your own head or get sad about stupid, tiny things.

Letting the school know about your relationship wasn’t mandatory now that you weren’t Arin’s teacher, but you felt better for it, meeting with Hoseok one morning to inform him. Eunbi already knew, being quite a close a friend to you, and slowly, over the next few days you let some of the other teachers you were friendly with know too. You found it quite exciting. You’d been single for such a long time so finding yourself in conversations about your boyfriend filled you with a happiness you weren’t quite used to. You liked talking about Seokjin, bigging him up, some could call it bragging… He’d even very kindly donated money for a new playground to be built in the kindergarten area. He wanted to help Primrose Hill any which way he could. It meant a lot to you and his daughter.

It only took around three weeks to get yourself into a routine. For both of you to find a rhythm and make it work well. Your lunch break wasn’t long enough for you to zip to Seokjin’s office and join him so he always made an effort to come to you. Sometimes you’d eat in his car, sometimes yours, or sometimes you’d meet in a small café near the school. You cherished that short time together because sometimes that’s all you could have. Depending on how busy you both were you often couldn’t spend time together in the evenings. You tried to at least once in the week, but weekends were reserved for things like spending the night.

It was Tuesday today and you somehow had a night free from lesson planning which meant you could join Seokjin and Arin for dinner. You were glad really, because Seokjin had been stressed since yesterday and you hadn’t had a chance to see him properly. He had to go away on last minute business this weekend but it coincided with Misook’s family vacation. He’d asked Nana if Arin could stay with her this weekend but she was busy too. He didn’t know what to do, other than try and postpone the trip. Key word: try.

Misook had left for the day just as you were arriving, Arin in her room, too busy playing on the Nintendo Switch she’d gotten from Nana for her birthday, so it gave you some brief time alone with Seokjin. You were shocked to see him still in his suit, sat in contemplation alone in the family room. Oh, boy. You hated seeing him so stressed. He was never one to mope or even show his mood. You knew him well enough by now to be able to tell when he was drained, but he still didn’t let it affect him too much, always smiling, always joking around. This evening was different. He’d barely said a few sentences, mostly it involved apologising for his bad mood. He felt selfish, not being much company, yet still needing yours. He had nothing to be sorry for, you reassured, resting your head on his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around you, holding you close. You reached for his hand, and there you stayed like that for a little while, fingers laced together.

Arin made her way in soon enough, stomach rumbling, a hopeful lilt to her voice as she walked over to you both, hands behind her back. “Can we have pizza for dinner?”

Seokjin shifted, unlacing your fingers and dropping his arm from your shoulders as you both sat up straighter. “Didn’t we have that yesterday, Arin?”

Arin didn’t miss. She was a professional. “But Y/N wasn’t here yesterday. She missed out.”

Her comeback even managed to draw a quiet chuckle out of her dad. “We’re not having pizza, sweetie.”

She sighed softly, crossing her arms around her chest as she looked your way. “Daddy is moody today.”

You raised an eyebrow, your mouth unable to stop quirking up in amusement. “He is?”

“Why do you say that?” Seokjin asked. His tone was light, but you could tell by his frown lines her casual words had him worrying.

“I heard you on the phone this morning to mommy. There’s no one to look after me when you go away this weekend and she can’t do it.”

Seokjin faltered, not expecting such a frank answer. He composed himself quickly. “She’s just really busy, Arin. She wanted to look after you, she just couldn’t this time.”

“I know,” she replied simply, nodding her head.

There was a beat of silence and then Seokjin reached for her, kissing her cheek, his voice quiet with apology. “I’m sorry. Was I really moody today?” He looked unsurely your way too.

“Uh huh. You hardly smiled, and when I tried telling you about the field trip I’m going on next week you weren’t even listening properly.” Arin’s small voice filled with such attitude was comical.

Seokjin chuckled. “Daddy’s really sorry. I’m smiling now, though, right?” Arin nodded. “And if you’re kind enough, you can tell me about your trip again over dinner. Is that okay?”

“Hmm.” She thought allowed. “So can we get pizza?”

Seokjin snorted. “Nice try, young lady. It’s still a no.”

Seokjin ordered from one of his favourite restaurants, helping you set the table as Arin went to check on her rabbits. You ate together, listening as Arin spoke all about her upcoming field trip, finally having her father’s undivided (and interested) attention. However, halfway in, she completely changed the topic, throwing you both.

“Can’t I stay with Y/N this weekend?”

“Hm?” Seokjin looked over at her, visibly surprised.

You swallowed what was left in your mouth just as Arin’s eyes found yours. “I can just stay with you while daddy has to go away.” Your lips parted, trying to think of something to say, your years of teacher training falling short.

Seokjin beat you to it. “No, no, sweetie,” he shook his head, sounded a little flustered, taken by surprise. “Y/N will probably be busy on the weekend. That’s her only free time, she can’t look after you.”

With a small shrug, she put her fork to her mouth. “It was just a thought.”

Seokjin looked over at you, expression apologetic as he mouthed sorry.

Hey, listen…” You began, feeling oddly nervous as you looked up at your boyfriend. It was a couple of hours later, Arin was in bed, time was getting on, you had to leave soon, but cuddled up against him, both curled up on the sofa as you watched mindless television, you really didn’t want to go anywhere. Seokjin had relaxed a little by now (the wonders of food), but you could still tell his mind was exhausted as his gaze fell on yours. You took a breath, deeper than intended, psyching yourself up. “I really don’t mind looking after Arin this weekend.”

You didn’t miss the way his eyes widened a tad, obviously taken by surprise, but then his mouth lifted at the side, his head shaking from side to side lightly as he let out a breathy chuckle. “Y/N, don’t feel like you have to just because she brought it up.”

You found yourself relaxing. He didn’t want you to feel obligated. You’d thought so, but the teeniest tiniest most worrisome part of your brain had thought he might now have wanted, or trusted you, to look after Arin. That wasn’t the case. You could tell by the look on his face. He didn’t want to put you out, ask too much of you.

You moved and straightened your back, eye to eye now. “No, I honestly don’t mind at all, Seokjin.” You reassured, talking faster as you noticed him open his mouth. “Seeing as Arin was the one who suggested it, I guess she’s fine with the idea. I…” Hesitating, you added something else. “I wanted to suggest it myself but… If she’s comfortable with it, I’d love to.”

It was the truth. Ever since Seokjin had called you at lunch time, telling you Nana couldn’t manage this weekend, you’d wanted to tell him you were up for it but something had stopped you. Even as he’d tried to think of options this evening – maybe his mom could stay for the weekend, his aunt – you’d held back and bitten your tongue. What if you were pushing boundaries? Inserting yourself into situations that didn’t concern you? Arin liked you, yes, but being entirely in your care for 48 hours was different. She might not want to, she might feel uncomfortable. However knowing that it wasn’t the case, suggesting it herself so casually over dinner had given you the confidence to push through. Seokjin needn’t be worried about asking too much of you.

Regarding you silently, he considered your words. Lovingly, you glided your hand up his arm, reaching out for his cheek. He pressed into your touch automatically. “I want to help you out.” At that, he smiled gently, lips turning up in a way that rounded his cheeks, making him appear at least a decade younger. It was wholly unfair.

Turning slightly, his lips grazed your palm. “I’ll ask her about it in the morning.” You grinned, visibly pleased, and Seokjin took your hand to tug you gently to his chest. This time he placed a kiss on your mouth, humming happily. “Thank you.”

Arin was more than happy about it. Seokjin suggested you stay at his home for the weekend, seeing as that would be easier for the both of you, but she was pretty adamant she wanted to stay at your place. You understood, kid’s curiosity and all. She wanted to know what your home looked like, she wanted to meet your “pretty best friend” she liked to ask about sometimes. Honestly, you felt touched that she wanted to learn more about your life. It was just another reminder of her acceptance when it came to you, and you’d be forever touched by how easily she’d let you into her life. She was more than welcome to come stay at your place, but of course you’d run it by Soojung first. She’d agreed quite easily, even after you informed her you’d be sharing her bed all weekend, Arin of course using yours.

On Thursday night Seokjin’s guilt was getting the better of him. He had you on the phone, making sure you were 100% okay with looking after Arin. He didn’t want you to feel as if you were trapped just because you felt compelled to help him. He could cancel his trip. You told him how stupid he was being. Cancelling would put so many people out, including himself. Besides, you not only wanted to help him out, you wanted to take care of Arin. You felt as though you were capable, and if you were being even more honest with him, you felt really happy it was happening. Knowing Arin trusted you this much was a great feeling. Knowing he trusted you enough…

“Why wouldn’t I trust you?” He scoffed in disbelief. “You’re great with her. She loves you.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you laughed.

“How come?” He was hellbent on proving you wrong, voice softening as he continued. “You’re so easy to love.”

You felt your heart skip a beat. He’d said it so casually, so easily, you felt dumb searching too much into his words. It was far too early to think of things like that – for confessions like that. Right? Still, he sounded genuine enough. He meant it, even if it wasn’t in that way. Not that you were expecting anything. You were perfectly happy with how things were, your feelings growing stronger each day. You weren’t in a rush, neither was he. That’s what made your relationship so great. But your heart still felt all fuzzy regardless. You found yourself smiling down the line, your thanks obvious in your tone. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I’ll miss you more.” He ignored your noises of complaint. “I’ll video call you a lot – and Arin of course.” Then he laughed. “Although, I’ll have a feeling she won’t miss me at all this weekend.”

The next day you finished up work early, it was a Friday anyway, so you never made a habit of sticking around too long, but this time you were packed and ready to go the same time as the kids. Arin would be waiting in her classroom, ready to go home with you for the weekend. Seokjin had dropped off her things early this morning before his flight, indulging you in a few sleepy kisses before he had to go, a promise of ‘I’ll see you Sunday night,” slipping from his slightly downturned lips, hands reluctant to let you go.

Arin was visibly excited when she saw you, seconds away from jumping up and down on the spot, your first name rushing out of her mouth without realising. It was no big deal of course, but her reaction was cute, eyes widening as her lips parted into a circle, a noise of realisation leaving her. She looked very much like her father, which made it even funnier. You took her hand, saying your goodbyes to Mr. Moon, her second grade teacher, and left the building for your car.

“This is a really nice car, Y/N,” she complimented as you made sure she was strapped in properly. You weren’t nervous, but you were slightly on edge, cautious, being a better word, to make sure everything was okay. You needed all bases covered. Arin was in your care for 48 hours after all. You told yourself to calm down, if Seokjin knew you were being this antsy he’d be highly amused. You wouldn’t stop hearing about it for a week.

“I’ve always wanted to ride in it,” Arin continued.

You smiled down at her. “Thank you.” She was one of the sweetest kids you knew. Your car was average. Not that she knew anything about makes and prices and whatever else there was. You didn’t either. As long as it drove you from point A to B you didn’t care what it looked like.

“Will your best friend be home when we arrive?” She asked as you got inside the driver’s seat, sticking the key in the ignition.

“Soojung? She’ll be still in work. Remember I told she works at a department store?” It was adorable how excited she was to meet Soo. Your best friend’s head would be double the size soon, ego inflated.

“Mhmm,” Arin hummed responsively.

“She won’t be done until around 6.” You turned back to look at her, knowing your next sentence would make her day. “I think she wanted to get pizza for dinner. Would you like that?”

“YES!” Arin exclaimed immediately, eyes lighting up. “Soojung likes pizza too?”

With a chuckle, you started the vehicle up and started backing out of your spot, replying as you did so. “She does.” But in truth, the pizza tonight was Seokjin’s idea. He’d given you one of his bank cards to spend on the food bill with strict instructions to only feed her the doughy delicacy once this weekend. He knew what she was like – you both did. She’d eat pizza for breakfast, lunch and dinner if she could. If you suggested it tonight, then that was it. She’d be eating your menu come Saturday and Sunday.

“How far away is your house from the school?”

You’d lost count of how many questions she’d already asked you since you’d arrived to collect her. It was comical. Seokjin had not warned you about that, but your years of experience had told you to expect it. What was a kid without questions? You’d be worried if she was silent.

“Not too long.” You replied, glancing in the rear view mirror to see her happily looking out of the window. “When we get in, I’ll text daddy and see if he’s free to videocall.”

“Okay.”

You tried to stop the smile that wanted to break across your face at her nonchalance. “Do you miss him yet?”

With a brief shake of her head, still staring at the whizzing scenery outside she answered pretty simply. “Not really.”

This time you burst out laughing, unable to stop. She looked over at the noise, meeting your eyes in the mirror as you took a right turn, giggling along. “Don’t tell him though, Y/N. It might make him sad.”

“I won’t, Arin.” You reassured with another chuckle. “It can be our little secret.”

She settled in well that night, immediately warming to Soojung (who despite her lifelong insistence, was great with children). You thought perhaps Arin would begin to get homesick once it was time for bed, but after watching a movie you tucked her in and said goodnight. You thought she’d have trouble sleeping because she was in a strange bed but checking in on her twenty minutes later you found her fast asleep, hugging her rabbit plushie. You on the other hand got ready to share a bed with Soojung – the bed cover hogger…

The next day Arin had you awake at 6am. You already knew about her liveliness in the mornings, so it was no surprise. You’d been woken up countless times over the summer by a knock at Seokjin’s door, Arin’s voice calling out for him. On days you weren’t there she’d even barge in and jump on the bed. Where she got her energy from so early in the morning was a mystery. This morning however, she caught you on the way out of the bathroom. You’d been tossing and turning all night, wresting the covers from Soo. You’d thought about maybe taking a blanket and having an hours nap on the sofa, but there Arin was creeping out of your room, a smile on her face as she saw it was you.

There was no tempting her back to bed, so you sat her down at the table and made her some breakfast, snapping a picture to send to her father. (Captioned: Guess who had me up at 6am 😴) You had a few things planned today. Seokjin always made sure Arin was busy on the weekends, it was the only time he got to spend with her fully unless she was with her mom, especially now that she was back in school. Even if it was just something as simple as going to the park, he always made plans. So, to do your part and to keep her entertained, you were going to run by her house to make sure the rabbits were fine (fed and watered), then go to the mall. It was simple, yes, but you needed to get a few things anyway, and you promised after all that walking around you’d stop by the food court. Then she had to accompany you to the grocery store to get ingredients for tonight’s dinner.

She was pretty damn excited regardless. “I like going to the mall with mommy because daddy finds it boring,” she informed you as she picked out her clothes that you’d helped her unpack yesterday. That definitely sounded like Seokjin, you thought to yourself, laughing along with her. “Mommy told me that next weekend she’s going to take me shopping and buy me anyyy-thing I want.”

“That sounds like great fun,” you smiled, telling yourself you’d pretend you never heard that… Seokjin was keen not to spoil Arin so you didn’t think he’d be best pleased to find this out. “What do you want to buy?”

“Hmm. Something for Olive and Ariel, I think.”

You smiled again, admiring her caring nature. Her rabbits were the most well looked after in this entire country. She adored them. “I think they’ll really appreciate that.”

You continued helping Arin get ready first, and thankfully by the time you were done Soojung had risen. You left them watching cartoons together while you showered, eager to leave by 10am.

Arin you found out, didn’t just like the mall, she loved it very much. She was practically skipping around the place as she held your hand, helping you pick out the things you needed for your craft session with the students on Monday. While she was recommending paint colours to you, she surprised you with a confession. “I wish you were still my teacher, Y/N.”

“How come?” You asked gently.

She gave a tiny shrug. “I’d get to see you every day.”

Oh. You didn’t know what to say to that, touched at her matter-of-fact revelation. Instead you wrapped an arm around her shoulders, giving her a loving squeeze.

“But actually, maybe I wouldn’t like it.” She added as an afterthought. You waited, curious as to why she’d changed her mind so suddenly. “I’d have to call you Miss Y/L/N. I’d get too confused.”

You laughed, this child was far too funny for her own good. “Me too, Arin. It’s better this way, right?”

“Right,” she agreed with a nod.

“Y/N, this is pretty,” Arin cooed, calling your attention as you rounded the stand. You’d gotten everything you needed and were now browsing around some other stores. You’d let Arin pick a couple out, worrying she might be getting bored, and one of her choices had been Claire’s. She was holding up a charm bracelet.

“Very pretty,” you agreed.

And then she struck. “Can I have it?” She didn’t give you time to answer, eyes widening as she began to beg, voice soft and hopeful. “Please. Pretty please.”

You chuckled. You were practically immune to cute kids, so that wouldn’t work on you. However, she had been really well-behaved all morning, in your eyes she deserved a small treat. “You can. But just this one thing, okay?”

“Thank you, Y/N!” She squealed, rushing up to you. She gave your arm a squeeze. “I like you much better than daddy.”

“That will hurt his feelings,” you burst out laughing. She didn’t have to butter you up, you’d already said yes.

As you were paying the cashier, she wondered off to a stand of keychains, her eyes catching something instantly. “Oooh, pretty,” she purred and the cashier, a woman no more than a few years older than you, laughed.

“Best escape before she wants something else,” you joked, handing over some cash.

“My daughter is just the same. Kids, who’d have them, right? We’re glutton for punishment.” She joked.

“Oh, no, I’m –” You stopped yourself dead, unsure what to say. Had this woman just mistaken you for Arin’s mother? It definitely sounded that way. But just how could you correct her?

“Don’t get me wrong,” the cashier said, shaking her head. “They’re definitely worth it.”

You forced yourself to smile, feeling a little wooden, but the chuckle you got out sounded better. “Yeah, yeah they are.” You glanced over at Arin, thankfully she was too distracted by the abundance of cute animal keychains. You turned back and took your bag from the woman, trying to shake off how awkward you felt. “Thank you. Bye.”

Walking over to Arin you took her hand. “Hope to see you again soon,” the cashier called behind you and you gave a wave, telling Arin to do the same.

“Thank you,” she sang sweetly as she did so.

“So, something weird happened today,” you told Soojung as you prepared food, careful to keep your voice low even though Arin was well and truly distracted inside the living room. Taehyung was a master with children. The guy needed a career change immediately. You’d never heard Arin laugh so hard. She’d been in stitches for the last hour. You were worried she’d be way to hyperactive for bedtime once it came.

Soojung looked up from where she was chopping onion, interested as her eyebrow raised.

“The woman at Claire’s mistook me for Arin’s mother.”

Soojung scoffed, lifting her shoulders in a casual shrug. “I’m not surprised. It was bound to happen. It’s normal.” She added, reassuring you as she saw the look on your face. “People just naturally assume.”

“I guess…”

“What did you tell her?”

Your expression turned sheepish. “I just went along with it,” you confessed, placing spaghetti in a pan of bubbling water. You caught the look she gave you. “I didn’t know what to say!” It was the truth. “I’m her father’s girlfriend seemed too… I don’t know…” Too impersonal?

“That’s what you are though,” Soo snorted.

You gave up, knowing you were probably making a huge deal out of this. Was it that serious? Probably not. “I just felt awkward.”

“Because you hate correcting people, or because you didn’t like someone mistaking you for Arin’s mother,” your best friend pried.

“It’s definitely not that. It’s just…” You sighed. “How would Arin feel about it? What if she’d heard?”

Soojung shrugged. “She loves you. You’re great with her.”

That wasn’t the point you were trying to make. “It still might have upset her though. She adores her mom.” You weren’t trying to take Nana’s place and you didn’t want her to ever think that.

It was Soo’s turn to sigh, dropping the chopped onions into a fry pan. “Do you want my opinion?”

“Please,” you requested meekly.

“I think you’re looking way too much into it.” Obviously. “It’s not a big deal at all, and Arin didn’t hear anything so nothing to worry about.”

“You’re right,” you agreed, telling yourself to shake it off.

“Of course I am,” she quipped, rooting around in a cupboard now. She turned back, a can of tomatoes in her hand. “I’m sure Seokjin will be able to ease your mind with his sexy Dilf powers or whatever he calls them.”

“Shut up,” you groaned. You weren’t even sure if you were going to tell him. Like she kept saying, it wasn’t a big deal, right? It was an easy mistake to make. Probably happened all the time.

From inside the living room you heard Taehyung roar loudly, mimicking a lion (possibly) and Arin shrieked out his name, laughter exploding from her. “Quick, let’s get dinner ready as soon as possible.” Soojung begged, dramatic as always. “I’m scared Tae might be getting ideas. I’m too young for kids!”

The rest of the weekend went by smoothly. Despite the excitement levels that Saturday night brought, Arin was knocked out by 9pm. You, Soojung and Taehyung stayed up for another hour before he had to leave and then Soo made her way to bed, needing to wake up early tomorrow for work. That left you on the couch, awaiting Seokjin’s video call. He’d already called once today, but Arin was so hyped, talking a mile a minute about her day, you couldn’t get a word in edgeways. (Neither could he.) You were thankful for some alone time. You were missing him. He’d gone away on business trips a couple of times in the summer but it didn’t mean you’d get used to it. You both talked about your day, and you decided there and then not to tell him about the Claire’s “incident.” Soojung was right, it was no big deal. It was a common misunderstanding, one you’d probably made unknowingly before too. After you’d said your goodbyes you went to bed, already strategizing how you were going to steal the covers back from Soojung. As much as you’d enjoyed looking after Arin, you couldn’t wait to have your own bed back. Sharing with your bestie was torture. Taehyung was an admirable man.

Sunday was a chillout day, although Arin still had you awake at 6am. You made her breakfast, watched some cartoons and shared turns on her Switch before you both got ready for the day. You checked in on Olive and Ariel briefly before driving back to your place. There was a park nearby and you promised you’d take her. The weather was still warm despite September trickling by. It was crazy how fast this year had gone, autumn already nearly here. For the rest of the day you both relaxed in front of the TV, waiting until Soojung was home to watch a movie, and then you made dinner. Seokjin was due back around 7pm, so you made sure all of Arin’s things were packed up ready to go. It was just gone eight when he turned up at your door. Arin had already passed out on the sofa after her hot chocolate so he couldn’t stay long. You thought with how entertaining this weekend had been it had finally all caught up with her.

“Are you sure you don’t want to spend the night?” He asked, careful to keep his voice down as he strapped Arin inside his car. (Still sleeping.) You’d followed him out as he carried her towards the vehicle, wanting to say your goodbyes.

He straightened up, closing the car door as he stepped closer to you. You rubbed his arm. “You must be exhausted.”

“Don’t baby me.” Reaching forward, he wrapped his arms around you, squishing your arms to your side. “I missed you.”

You hummed, pressing your lips to his, careful to keep your voice a whisper. “Your dick missed me.”

He scoffed in disbelief but couldn’t argue. “That’s…not a lie. My heart missed you too though.”

“How sweet,” you joked, but couldn’t keep your charade up for much longer. “I missed you too.” This time the press of your mouth was much firmer. He matched it, letting you slip your arms around his sides, holding him too.

“Tomorrow, then?” He asked hopefully, tip of his tongue wetting his bottom lip slightly as he pulled away. “I know it’s a school night but I swear I only get a good night’s sleep lying next to you.”

Laughing, you nodded your head. “Tomorrow.” You agreed wholeheartedly. Sleeping alone was no fun anymore.

He captured your mouth again, humming happily. “Can’t wait.”

The following weekend Arin was with her mom so you and Seokjin had the entire weekend to yourselves. Saturday was busy, you’d both probably been a little too ambitious when you’d decided to cram as many different activities as you could into the day, but it was too good of an opportunity to pass up. You didn’t get many days to spend together likes this; walking hand in hand as you explored the local market, having brunch together, checking out a new museum exhibit, watching a movie at the theatre… You treasured days like these. And what better way to end one with? Jacuzzi time!

Seokjin’s jacuzzi was fast becoming one of life’s staples lately. Who were you? A changed woman, that’s who. This was your favourite space in Seokjin’s garden(s). An area of decking, solar lights draped over the sleek fencing. In the middle was the jacuzzi, set into the wood. Now that the nights were drawing in, it was especially cosy out here, summer holding on for just a little bit longer as the weather stayed quite warm. It wouldn’t be like this for long so you had to make the most of it right now.

You were sat inside the jacuzzi, water gently bubbling around you as you gazed up at the stars that had just started to appear when you heard Seokjin emerging from the house. His footsteps sounded against the wooden steps as he made his way towards you. You didn’t bother looking but when he didn’t join you straight away, you glanced over curiously. To be met with a rather naked boyfriend.

“What are you doing?!” You exclaimed, eyes bugging out.

He grinned. It was hardly innocent. “Jacuzzi’s are much more enjoyable naked, didn’t you know?”

You tsked, watching him climb into the tub and make his way over to you. His mouth was immediately on yours, arms around your waist as he tugged for you to stand up. This wasn’t just any type of kiss. Like you’d said before, you knew Seokjin very well by now, and besides, you’d already noticed his dick was half aroused as he stood above you… He had a plan.

On cue, he broke away, corners of his plump lips tugging upwards with a suggestion.

“Join me?”

“Seokjin…” You warned, voice low, hands grazing the tops of his arms. He couldn’t be serious.

“No one can see us,” he reassured you with a wider smile.

You mean, he was correct. This time you let your hands make their way to his shoulders, massaging them lightly. “You’re crazy.”

“Yeah, crazy for you,” he smirked, leaning in to kiss you once again. His lips were slow, coaxing. Even more so as they made their way down your jaw and to your neck. You keened into his touch, his hands grazing down your sides, fingers toying with the sides of your bikini bottoms. “C’mon…” He sunk his teeth into your skin gently and you whined. “I know you want to.” You did indeed. Very much so. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, voice suddenly hoarse. You cleared your throat just as his fingers began to untie the strings of your bra, mouth still peppering your neck with kisses. Until that was your chest was bare, and then his lips were wrapped around one nipple, water rippling with the sudden movement. You moaned as quietly as you could, wanting to encourage him because it felt good, but also nervous as hell because you were outside. You didn’t care if there was no one around for a good mile, you were still out in the open.

Cupping your breasts in his palms he gazed down at them, sighing dreamily. “Have I ever told you how much I love your tits?”

You raised an eyebrow. “One. Don’t be so crude.” (Not that you didn’t like it.) “And two. Yes, yes you have.” You broke off with a laugh, reaching for him to mesh your mouths together. He couldn’t help but chuckle too, but elsewhere he had a hand down your bikini to grab your ass.

“What’s gotten – Seokjin!” You practically roared, cutting yourself off as he suddenly dived down into the water, fully submerged, hands attempting to tear your bottoms off. “What are you doing,” you giggled, clinging to his back as you tried to stay upright. He had one of your ankles in his hand, wrestling with the fabric.

A few moments later he arose successful, flicking his head back to stop his wet hair from dripping in his eyes. He pushed it back further with his hands, forehead now devastating, skin glistening with water droplets. You heart stilled, he looked gorgeous – and naughty. Behind him your bikini bottoms floated to the surface. A smirk spread across his face as he finally replied. “Getting you naked.” And then he was on you.

He kissed you hungrily, his erection pressed up against you, hot and eager now, just like his tongue. Your fingers threaded through his wet locks, letting him push his body weight into you until the backs of your legs hit the seat.

“Up here for me,” he pulled away briefly, command light, tapping his hand against the deck behind you. You let him slip his hands around your hips and lift you up, legs spread to accommodate his body, feet still in the water atop of the seat.

“You’re not too cold?” He made sure to ask, concerned despite being ravenous. You shook your head, desire for him enough despite the night air cooling the water against your skin. Satisfied he immediately dove in, leaning forward to place a kiss against your wetness. You pulsed against the touch, moving back on your elbows to get comfier just as his tongue came out and flicked against your clit. Suddenly you didn’t care that you were outside.

From up here you had a great view of the expanse of his broad, wet back, muscles rippling as he ate you out. You moaned softly, running a hand through his hair, gaze falling to his face. His eyes were closed, water droplets caught in his dark eyebrows and as if he could feel your eyes watching him, he looked up, smirking against you before he sucked the sensitive bud into his mouth, actions growing more eager as he heard you go crazy for it.

He knew your body well, which is why he cruelly held off slipping a finger inside of you. Actually, on second thought, he knew damn well that the second he did so, your orgasm would soon follow. It wasn’t hard to tease your body, to control it how he wanted. As soon as you felt his middle digit push inside, you clenched around it, hips bucking into Seokjin’s face as a stifled cry forced its way out of your mouth. He grunted, inserting another finger, curling and uncurling them as his other hand gripped your hip, trying his best to keep you still. It was no use, you were a woman possessed, pleasure beginning to hurtle through your body at an alarming rate. You stretched out, fingers of one hand sliding along the wood beneath you, desperately trying to cling onto something as you moaned uncontrollably. Seokjin hummed along, encouraging you, coaxing the orgasm through your body. With each wave your breath shuddered harder.

You only started coming to when you felt his fingers slip out of you, his tongue ceasing, mouth now at your inner thigh, kissing you wetly, passionately. Your hands reached for him, wanting him close, but he was already on it, straightening up to meet your mouth. “I need you,” he breathed. You could taste yourself, it was intoxicating. “Here.”

“Here?!” You exclaimed weakly, unfocused eyes trying to concentrate on his face.

He kissed you once more, moaning a little. “Yeah.” His hands wrapped around your hips, lifting you further up the decking before he climbed out of the water and crawled over your body, reaching for something behind you. “Look – let’s use this.” He had a beach towel in his hand, the one you’d left draped over one of the wicker chairs, and he hurriedly laid it out, pressing you into it to kiss you again. His cock was hard and wet, bobbing against your inner thighs.

“Are you sure you’re not cold?” He asked, wet hair now having fallen in his eyes.

You cupped his face, nodding your head as you leaned up. You were still thrumming from your high. “Yes.” Your tongue curled against his open mouth, slipping in to meet his own. The kiss was messy, distracted, as he spread your legs, hooking one up under your thigh.

Breaking away from your mouth, he straightened his back and aligned himself at your entrance, needing no hands he was so erect. You clung to his shoulders, waiting for the first thrust. His skin was still dotted with water droplets. “I’m too impatient, baby,” he told you simply, and then he pushed inside.

Slowly, savouring the feeling of your walls stretching around him, both of you gasping as he bottomed out. With a slow thrust he groaned. “You feel like heaven.” As he leaned in to kiss you, he noticed you trying to hold back a giggle. “What?”

You burst. “That was so cheesy.”

Chuckling, he kissed you again, tips of his ears turning red. “Don’t laugh at me.” You snorted, unable to help it, reaching for him in silent apology, despite laughter still escaping you. “Seriously, stoppp,” he whined, dropping his head.

You grinned. “Or what?”

That got his attention. Looking up, his top lip twitched. His hand cupped your face, thumb brushing over your lips. “I’ll have to teach you a lesson,” he murmured, voice an octave lower. You opened up, sucking the digit into your mouth, looking up at him knowingly. He knew what you were thinking. That didn’t sound so bad.

“My mistake.” He smiled, gaze intense as he pulled away, his thumb leaving you with a silent pop. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

You were seconds away from agreeing but became distracted, watching him lift both legs up by the back of your thighs now, hiking them above his shoulders. He dick slipped so deep you choked, feeling so full you didn’t know what to do.

“S-seokjin,” you panicked, your hands clutching his arms.

He cocked his head to the side, voice soft. “Trust me?”

You nodded, something already so addicting about feeling him inside you like this. You felt beyond sensitive, beginning to tremble as he slowly thrust in and out of you, bringing the tip of his cock almost all the way out before sinking back into your warmth. You moaned out, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes with a pleasure so overwhelming. He sped up, going harder now that he was certain you were enjoying yourself, wet squelches sounding along with your moans and his grunts. You loved watching him fuck you like this, towering down over you, the wet spikes of hair falling down around his face, fucking you with his entire body weight, your ass sliding back and forth against the towel.

However, you also loved kissing him. Holding him as he thrust inside, keeping him to you.

“Seokjin,” you breathed, voice tight, hands reaching for him. He got the message, easing your legs to the ground carefully as he took one of your hands and brought it up to his mouth, kissing it tenderly, your name slipping from his lips, breathless and husky.

He moved closer, capturing your lips eagerly and you hooked your legs around his waist, clinging to the back of his neck in the process as your hips jutted up to meet each roll of his own. You were both panting by now, grunts of exertion slipping from your mouths as you continued to make out. His movements were messier, wet bodies pressed up close, enough to provide enough friction for a second orgasm.

“Ah… I’m close,” he panted, mouth grazing down your throat as he attempted to keep the same momentum.

“M-me too.”

That spurred him on, hips snapping into yours with a cry, newfound determination, lips pressing into yours once more. You came together, out of breath and quite sweaty, but mouths unrelenting. You’d never get enough of kissing him. It was addictive – especially like this.

Spent, he slid out of your dampness naturally, having grown flaccid, kissing you slowly now, indulgently, until he was moving south, capturing your left breast in his mouth, tongue encircling your nipple. You shuddered as he pulled back, one of his hands cupping the right breast to give that a parting kiss too. It wouldn’t be long before you started growing cold, but you were so content here you didn’t care.

Seokjin lifted his head up, gazing straight into your eyes. His were warm and soft, drunk on your beauty (or so he would say). “I want to give you the world,” he breathed, sealing his confession with a press of his mouth.

Your heart swelled, heat prickling your skin and you clung to him. But despite that, you felt the need to joke around. Call it a defence mechanism, who knew. “Men are so weak,” you chuckled, running your fingers through his hair to pull it back, revealing his face again. The tips had already started to dry. “Let them cum inside you and they’re like putty in your hands.”

He laughed too, genuinely amused, but his eyes were still soft and he leaned into your touch, content with the way you held his face now. “I mean it though,” he whispered. “Tell me what you want. Anything. I’ll make it happen.”

You raised an eyebrow. He was being ridiculous, acting drunk. Still, you were pretty simple. You didn’t have many wishes, many dreams. “I want to travel on a plane.”

It was his turn to lift an eyebrow, intrigued. “Like a private jet or?”

“No,” you giggled, “just a plane in general.” You kissed his nose. “You know I’ve never been out of the country before.”

“You want me to take you on vacation?” He hummed, turning suggestive pretty quickly. “A sexcation?”

“Seokjinn,” you whined, dropping your hands from his face.

He nudged his nose against yours playfully. “Well, of course there’ll be sex involved, but,” he grew serious, genuinely interested, “where do you want to go?”

“Hm, anywhere?”

“Anywhere,” he confirmed, adding, “unless it’s another planet, or the moon.”

You smiled, amused, yet deeply preoccupied now. Where did you want to go? What was your dream destination? You’d had one place in mind since you were a child. Running a hand down his bare chest you suddenly felt coy. “I want to visit Paris.”

He grinned. “France, Mademoiselle?”

You matched it. “Oui.”

“Done.” He kissed you, sealing the deal. “Let’s go there tonight.”

You burst out laughing at his idiocy. “I have school. You have work – a daughter!”

He laughed too, but he was distracted, gazing at you tenderly once more. He opened his mouth, about to say something but hesitated. Instead he smiled, nodding his head resolutely. “Okay, soon. Very soon.” He laughed when you squealed in excitement, bringing one of your hands to his lips. “I’m going to take you to the most romantic city on earth, baby.”

It was Sunday the next day, which meant only one thing. Lazy morning sex. It was his favourite, his time to indulge in all things beautiful and pleasurable he told you. (i.e. You). You’d grown used to his lame lines, he couldn’t help it, and deep down you secretly loved them. A man so shameless with his desire, his devotion. You really had hit the jackpot.

Sundays were also your excuse to just be lazy in general. You usually skipped breakfast in choice of an early lunch, but today you wanted to picnic outside. You knew in a week or so the weather would begin to change more drastically so this was your last chance. You made a reluctant Seokjin get out of bed and shower with you, ignoring his advances as you did so. He was like a dog in heat. Not that you usually complained, but today you really wanted to hit the grocery store before rush hour. Sundays were always busy.

A few hours later you had everything ready, outside in the spot that saw the most sun. It bleated down on you as you kneeled, arranging all the dishes across the blanket you’d placed down across the lawn.

“Oh, shoot. I forgot the salad.” Seokjin realised by the side of you. “I’ll be one sec, honey.” He kissed your cheek as he stood, smacking your ass playfully in the process. “Don’t start without me.”

“What will you do about it?” You called out to him, unable to help it.

“If you’re feeling brave, I guess you’ll find out.” He called back with a laugh, retreating into the house.

A good girl, you waited patiently, but then time started to tick on. One minute, then five… At ten you stood up with a sigh. Where was he? You had visions of the salad bowl on the floor smashed to smithereens. You made your way through the doors that led inside the back of the house. You past his study, calling his name. “Seokjin? Did you get lost?”

You were met with silence, which wasn’t surprising, his home was big after all. Down the corridor, closer to the kitchen you began to hear voices. Seokjin’s familiar rumble, although you couldn’t make it out, and then a louder, unfamiliar voice – female. You followed the sound, realising it was coming from the living room nearest the front door. A sick feeling was slowly creeping its way up your throat, but you didn’t understand why. As you got closer your heart began to race, blood rushing through your ears. There was this sudden feeling of dread. It was so strong you could practically taste it, and you were so frazzled you couldn’t concentrate on the words you were hearing as you rounded the corner of the open door, although you did acknowledge them.

Immediately as you came into view you heard them loud and clear though. Directed at you.

“Oh, and this is her, right?”

They were coming from a woman, her dark eyes piercing into yours. She was beautiful, was your first thought. Tall and slim, with long black hair, so silky she could have come straight from a shampoo commercial. It reminded you of someone. Her hair just as dark and shiny. Arin.

At the thought of the child’s name, you looked down, spotting her beside the stranger, clinging to her hand, eyes wide and shiny with worried tears. Everything clicked into place then. Confusion clearing, yet the sick feeling got stronger. This wasn’t a stranger. It was Arin’s mother. Seokjin’s ex-wife. Nana. And she looked angry.

You glanced around, spotting Seokjin who was looking your way with apologetic eyes. His face looked torn. He murmured your name, stepping towards you, a protective hand reaching for your own. He held it tight, giving you a comforting squeeze. His palm was clammy.

“Yes, here she is!” Nana laughed harshly, needing no reply. It made you wince. Beside you Seokjin groaned quietly, rubbing his free hand across his face before he took a deep breath. As if he was gearing himself up.

You looked at Nana, chest a little tight, something heavy in your stomach. When your eyes locked the corners of her mouth curled upwards.

“The stepmom!” She sneered.

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

#seokjin smut #seokjin fanfic #bts smut #bts fanfic #fic:mls #floralseokjin:writings

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neoculturetravesty · 4 years ago

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We met in online class - Part 4

Image taken from here. Originally had this image in mind but Tumblr won’t let me upload it.

Pairing: Renjun x Reader Genre: College AU, romance, fluff, angst, maybe humor???? Warnings: Strong language Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: Happy Easter to all who celebrate it!

It’s funny how quickly people form habits without really meaning to. You don’t realize you have a new favorite word till someone points out you’ve been using it so much. You don’t realize you’re addicted to caffeine till you get headaches from withdrawals. You don’t realize you can’t live without dessert till the sugar crash hits. And in the same way, Renjun didn’t realize he had gotten used to your company till he’s waiting outside your lecture hall with an almost expectant inclination to see you.

A lot of it had to do with who you were as a person. You had pretty much infiltrated Renjun’s life, even though he still kept you at an arm’s distance. One day, he had walked into the library and found you with Jaemin, while the two of you had your heads together over a laptop and a huge gift basket in the making on the table. Jaemin wasn’t the kind of person who invited a lot of new people into his life; so he must have really trusted you because it wasn’t the last time Renjun saw the two of you together.

But worse than Jaemin was Donghyuck. Renjun was pretty sure that since you’d asked him out, you had probably hung out more with Donghyuck than with him. Almost as if seeing Renjun was just an excuse for you to hang out with him, as you had often joked. It was as if the two of you were kindred spirits, long lost best friends who had finally found one another. Donghyuck would invite you everywhere, get up to no good with you in tow; and before Renjun knew it, the two of you were even planning parties together. Neither Donghyuck nor you needed Renjun as an excuse to hang out with one another anymore, and it amused him. A part of him wondered if Donghyuck was playing along to help his bigger cause. But his friend always looked so genuinely happy around you that any ulterior motive he might have seemed to have been forgotten.

“Why can’t the sun always be like this?” you said as you laid on the grass using your backpack as a pillow. Your hand was reaching out over your face, your fingers wiggling as you played with shadows.

While you soaked in the sun, Renjun chose to sit under the shade of a tree, sketching away in his book, completing his assignment before his next class.

“You wouldn’t appreciate it as much if it were always like this.” Renjun replies, not looking away from his work. He much preferred paint over charcoal, but he had to admit that the scratching sounds it made against the grains of paper--coupled with the chirping of birds and gentle ruffling of leaves around him--was really relaxing. As was your company.

“Hmm. But it’s still nice to see it without fine dust couture. I like seeing it fully in the nude.” you say, a soft, funny smile on your face while your eyelashes cast shadows on your cheeks.

“Pervert.” Renjun accuses, smiling as he drew. It just makes you laugh and lay sideways to face him. You prop up your head on your hand.

“I’m the sun, Huang Renjun. Now draw me like one of your French girls.” you say in a comical voice and Renjun actually laughs without reservation.

“Do you have any more classes?” he asks, fixing his black and gold rimmed glasses over his nose.

“Nope. I’m done for the day. Yeri’s supposed to pick me up, so I’m just waiting for her call.” you say, rolling onto your back once more, resuming your dance with the shadows.

Renjun hums a reply as he sketches, but really, he’s thinking that he hadn’t formally met Yeri. At least not yet. He had just had two very awkward run-ins with her the couple of times he had been to your apartment. Come to think of it, he hadn’t been to your place since that last time. And you had never been to his place at all.

It wasn’t on accident, though. All of it had been by Renjun’s really convoluted design. He had met a few of your friends on campus in the passing, sure. But you were more a part of his life that he was yours. That is exactly what Renjun had planned. Lately, however, that plan seemed to be fading away into the ether. Slowly but surely dispersing from memory till it was more or less abandoned.

Because Renjun did not realize that he had adopted you like a habit. Any time he saw a witty meme, he had to send it your way because you would text back with an equally witty reply that scratched Renjun’s intellectual itch. Any time Jisung would bring home a baguette, he would take a picture for you with a caption like ‘Francophile life going strong’. The two of you had even developed a silly game where you would look at different marketing taglines and wonder if it would still work to sell condoms.

‘Nike. Just do it.’ Renjun had once texted.

‘That is a low hanging fruit, Huang Renjun.’ you had replied.

‘Okay, true. But how about Imax: Thing big.’ he had texted back.

‘Hmm, almost but not quite. I need something stronger.’

‘BMW: Designed for driving pleasure.’ he had actually found himself scrolling through a long list of taglines while his assignment laid forgotten.

‘Oof. Now you’ve found the sweet spot. Keep going.’ Renjun had smiled at your reply and had found himself hurriedly looking for something better.

‘Geico: So easy, a caveman could do it.’

‘Mmm, didn’t think you were a kinky boy, Huang Renjun. Go on…”

Renjun had actually laughed out loud, making Jisung look up at him quizzically and replied ‘1010 Wins: you give us 22 minutes, we’ll give you the world.’

‘Yessss! Right there, right there!’

Renjun hadn’t even realized he was grinning wide and standing up from his desk, a list of taglines open both on his laptop and his phone while he scrolled to find the perfect response that would make you happy. ‘Rice Krispies: Snap! Crackle! Pop!’

‘So close, so close, I am almost there!’

‘Washington Post: Democracy dies in darkness.’

‘THAT’S IT, THAT DID IT, THAT HIT THE SPOT!’

Renjun had actually belly laughed at the entire conversation. He didn’t remember the last time he had laughed this way because even Jisung was looking at him with an amused smile, asking “What’s so funny?”

So yes, Renjun had adopted you like a habit. But it wasn’t just through text. When you weren’t the one waiting for him on campus with a couple of cups of coffee in hand, he found he would go looking for you. You would spend all your free time together, just like this. He would find himself missing you on days he didn’t get to see you. He found himself disappointed when you didn’t have time for him because you and Donghyuck were on a very important mission or you had to meet your friends or you had extra work that was demanding your attention. You had just inserted yourself in his life in such a manner that Renjun didn’t even notice.

Perhaps you had nothing to do with it, but Renjun’s life had been treating him pretty well, too. Maybe he was more inspired these days, because his work was getting better and his professors were noticing. His painting instructor had held him back after class one day and offered him an internship at his studio. While it wasn’t huge, it was enough that Renjun had thrown his fist in the air in celebration as soon as he had left class. And you were the first person he texted and he was glad he did because you had texted back a freakout that made him grin like an idiot. You had come to see him as soon as your own class had ended and you had flung yourself in his arms and had jumped around excitedly before dragging him along so you could buy him an artist’s apron as a present.

“Do you have any more classes?” you ask him as you stare at the evening sun through your fingers.

Renjun’s about to reply when he is interrupted by the sound of your phone buzzing in your pocket. You fish it out and sit up, telling Renjun “Hold on…” before answering it. “Are you here, Yeri?”

Renjun goes back to scratching away in his pad, thinking. Maybe he should introduce himself now when Yeri comes to pick you. But what would he say? ‘Hi, I’m Y/N’s friend?’ Everyone on campus knew that the two of you weren’t exactly just friends. It was thanks to your stunt during that one online class, where he’d met you. ‘Hi, I’m Y/N’s boyfriend?’ But he wasn’t that, either. While the two of you had become pretty comfortable in each other’s company, you hadn’t really done anything, or had any serious talk about what you were. You two always found yourself tiptoeing “the line”. Actually, no. It was Renjun that tiptoed that line. After his two failed attempts to kiss you, the conversation had just not taken that turn ever again. You two hadn’t leveled up on the PDA front, either. Sure, you had cuddled into him in the back of the cab that one night, and he had half-carried you to your apartment till Yeri took you from the doorstep. But you didn’t seem to remember any of it, so it was basically back to square one. Sure, you had hugged him in joy when he had gotten the internship, but did it really count when the two of you hadn’t even held hands yet? Aside from the innuendo-filled condom tagline talk, the two of you hadn’t really done anything that would constitute as… something a couple might do.

“Okay, but how long would it take?” you’re saying into the phone, a gentle crease growing between your eyebrows. Whatever you heard back must have been distasteful because you grimace. “Okayyyy, Yeri, I’m hanging up now!” you say pointedly and groan, laying back into the grass.

Renjun chuckles “All good?”

“Yeri has brought home a ‘distraction’.” you say, making air quotes, and a face like you’ve tasted something sour. “I’m banished from my own home for the evening.”

Renjun looks up.

He thinks about his next words carefully. “Um… what are you gonna do?”

You groan once more and say “I’m probably going to crash at Lia’s till my exile is over. So inconvenient!”

“You could come over to mine.”

Renjun didn’t know how it happened, how he found the courage to think it and then actually say it out loud, but now there’s no going back because the two of you are walking down the hallway to his place. He doesn’t know why, but his throat is a little dry and he peeks over his shoulder to see that you seem a bit nervous as well. He takes a deep breath and decides to break the tension.

“Here we are.” He says as he punches in the code. He holds the door open “Hello, MTV. Welcome to my crib.”

It works because it makes you smile. “So, this is where the magic happens.”

“Mhmm, but I hope to God my roommates have at least attempted to clean it up some, because I did text them a head’s up.”

“Lead the way, Huang Renjun.” you say and he does. He walks you into his living room where Jisung is currently sitting, playing video games. The smell of something delicious makes his head turn towards the kitchen where he finds Jaemin.

“Hey, Y/N!” he calls out then wipes his hands on a towel before coming in to give you a hug.

“Hi, Y/N!” Jisung says without looking up.

Renjun is amused and a little confused. Perhaps you and Jaemin got even closer while he wasn’t noticing, but Jisung? When had the two of you met? By the looks of it, Jisung was comfortable enough with you that he wasn’t even minding his manners and greeting you properly. Probably because he was too busy dwindling his thumbs on his controller furiously.

“Damn, Jisung, you’re really going at it, huh?” you say to him easily.

“Mhmm. I would’ve been doing even better if Jaemin hadn’t interrupted and kicked me out of my own room because you were coming over.”

There is a two second silence before Jisung’s audience of three begins talking at the same time.

“Jisung!” Renjun yelps, bringing his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

“Oh, no, we aren’t going to like… do anything--” you find yourself explaining at the same time, face heating up.

“Jisungieeee!” Jaemin also sings out to scold, yet he grins as he mock-chokes the boy.

“You are so dead.” Renjun gives the back of Jisung’s head a death stare.

“Nooo, our Jisungie means well, don’t you, Jisungie?” Jaemin coos while Jisung dodges his kisses.

Renjun shakes his head and places a hand to your arm to guide you along. “Let’s go.”

“I’ve made food if you crazy kids get hungry!” Jaemin calls after you and it’s the most animated he’s been in a while.

His friends being, well, his friends was probably worth it because Renjun is feeling a lot better as he brings you into his room. It had been a while since he had brought a girl over and looking about, he can tell that his mates did a good job at hastily cleaning it.

“Damn, Huang Renjun. You’re a clean boy.” you’re saying as you look about. “I thought you’d be the artfully messy type.”

Renjun grins as he runs his fingers through his hair. “We can mess it up together if you’d like.” But Renjun mentally smacks himself in the head as soon as the words leave his mouth because you’ve looked up at him and quickly looked away, muttering something awkwardly.

“I… I didn’t mean that. I just meant with like, paint and, like…” Renjun blows air out of his mouth and then your eyes meet. Before you know it, you both are giggling at each other because the awkwardness is probably making you a bit delirious.

Renjun watches as you take a deep breath to stop the giggles and turn to start looking around. “Oooh. Mr. Fancypants is a tea connoisseur.” you say as you run your hands over his teabag display box.

Renjun chuckles “Do you want me to make you some?”

“Sure. Let’s have tea, Mr. Fancypants.” you take a seat on his wheelie chair and your eyes go to the artist’s apron you had bought him that is currently hanging on an easel. You give it a fond smile.

“What flavor would you like?” Renjun asks as he puts the kettle on and sets up two mugs.

“Umm… I don’t know tea. I’m a coffee drinker.” you reply, your fingers tracing over the pictures he had at his desk.

“I’ll make you a simple chamomile, then. I’ve seen you and Jaemin enabling each other’s coffee habits and I don’t approve.” he knots his eyebrows.

“Oh no, no, no. Jaemin is on a different level. I took a sip of his coffee by mistake once and my entire life flashed before my eyes. I don’t know if that boy drinks coffee or straight up cocaine.”

Renjun bites his smile because he’s still holding onto the look of disapproval. “That would explain the random spikes and falls in his energy.” he says as he pours out the water in the mugs and seeps the teabags. “Here you go.” he sets your mug on the desk and takes a seat on his bed.

You take a sip “So, which one is your bunk?”

“Top.” Renjun also wants to make an innuendo but he stops himself because the awkwardness surrounding the fact that you and him are alone in his room has only just subsided with the tea.

“Isn’t the bottom bunk more comfortable?” you muse as you drink. You seem to be enjoying your tea because you haven’t set it aside yet.

“Of course it is. It’s why Jisung has it.” he comments, cocking his eyebrow. “And I sleep here on this bed.” He pats where he’s sat.

You grin as you sip then quickly wipe your chin as some tea spills through your smile. “Where do you keep all your paintings?”

“In the studio. On that top bunk. Behind that door. At my grandma’s house.” he lists off on his fingers.

“Why behind the door? If I had your talent, I’d basically cover every bit of my wall in my art. Like the most egomaniacal artist in the world.” you fantasize, looking up at the ceiling.

Renjun chuckles. “I kinda like my space to be a bit cleaner, you know? Because I’m always around art. It kinda helps with my imagination, having a clean environment. It’s almost like a clean canvas.”

“Interesting.” you’ve said and it sounds like you genuinely mean it. “It’s still a bit sad. All the work you’ve created should have a home. It shouldn't be hidden away behind doors or on top bunks.”

“You can give some of them a home if you’d like. If you have space, I mean.” Renjun gives you a fond look. You haven’t replied but you’ve set your mug down and looked at him with a very tender look in your eyes. You stand up.

“I wanna see your bed.”

Renjun grins. “Be my guest.”

“Ooooh.” you make an excited squeal, almost like you're about to enter Dexter’s Laboratory. You plop yourself on it and bounce up and down, almost as if to check the pliability of it.

“So this is where the magic happens.” you giggle and then Renjun finds your gaze moving to a picture frame on his headboard. “Is that your grandma?”

“It is.” Renjun smiles as he watches you pick your feet up and make yourself comfortable.

“She looks exactly like you.” you say, looking back at him with an affectionate look.

“A lot of people say that. People in school used to think I’m adopted because I looked nothing like my parents.” Renjun scoots back to sit next to you.

“Are you close to your parents?” you ask gently, looking at him.

Renjun looks away.

The two of you hadn’t had that many deep conversations. And anytime you did, he had found a way around it so that nothing was shared, nothing was learnt.

But no one had ever asked him that… not in so many words. He finds himself shrugging and responding before he can stop himself. “Nah. They don’t even talk to me. They’ve never really cared.”

“How do you know that, Renjun?” you’re asking him in a very soft voice. The kind of voice that has Renjun sharing more than he wants.

“They pretty much abandoned me very young,” Renjun laughs ironically. “They would fight all the time, you know? Like, they really would go at each other one moment then make up the next moment. They kind of forgot they had a son.” Renjun finds himself saying while his eyes fixate on a loose thread on Jisung’s bedsheet. He realizes he’s warm and comfortable and that’s when he notices that you’ve put an arm around him.

“That must have been so hard, to go through that.” you’re speaking to him so softly and your head and your body is angled towards him, giving him all your attention while Renjun talks into the abyss.

“They were just like… kinda dysfunctional, you know? They fought like crazy and I had to hide away so I wouldn’t hear them. And then the next day, they’d be in each other’s arms like nothing happened. They would pretend like everything was all right. Like the trauma they gave me meant nothing.”

You’re not speaking anymore, only listening. Your hand around him has started to gently stroke his arm. Your other hand softly combs through his hair.

“It was such a vicious cycle and they wouldn’t stop. I think they were kinda addicted to it. They would’ve been happy living like that with each other if it weren’t for me.” He had never shared so much with anyone. But now that he had started, it was difficult to stop.

“Renjun…” you say empathetically and pull him into you. Renjun pauses for a moment, but decides to give in. What did it matter, anyway? He rests his head on your shoulder.

“If it weren’t for my grandma, I wouldn’t even be alive, you know? She saved me from all of that and took me in. She raised me. It wasn’t even her responsibility, but she raised me.”

You are holding him to you and soothingly stroking his hair when you say “Then I think your grandma is the luckiest person in this world. Because she got to see you grow up to be such a good man.”

Renjun feels a lump in his throat grow and before he knows it, there are tears stinging in his eyes. You turn your head and press a kiss into his temple and slowly rock him. It was odd, being here like this, because Renjun realizes that this was the first time you had kissed him. But more than anything else, it was the first time someone had held him like this.

The last time he remembered being held was probably when he was a child, and it had been his grandma. No one since had held him in their arms to listen to him, to comfort him, to love him without any conditions. No one had tried to take his pain away without wanting something in return. The thought puts more tears in his eyes and he finds himself leaning his weight into you.

He allows you to hold him and comfort him and coo at him. You’re speaking to him gently but Renjun isn’t hearing your words. He’s only concentrating on the soothing sound of your voice and how melodic it is. He liked hearing you talk. He’s concentrating on how you’re rocking him, and how the movement is slowly lulling him. He liked how warm and soft you were and how protective your arms were. He liked the smell of chamomile on your breath. Had you enjoyed chamomile? He thought you had. Maybe you would’ve enjoyed a different flavor more. Renjun decides he should make you an Earl Grey next time; it would probably be better suited to your caffeine tastes. Maybe you wouldn’t like Earl Grey as much either, but it would be nice to discover that bit about you. He’d make you try all the flavors till he learnt which one your favorite was.

“How come I never saw your cat?” He asks sleepily after you’ve been quiet for a while.

“Hmm?” you ask, confused.

“Your cat. Galbi. How come I didn’t see him when I came over?” Renjun can feel your smile against his temple.

“Oh. Yeri had dropped him over at the vet’s that day. Do you want to meet him?” you ask him.

“Yeah, it would be nice to meet him.” Renjun says and brings an arm up to cuddle closer into you.

“Okay. Next time you come over, you can meet him… shoulder gangster Renjun.” you’re only whispering at him now as you tease him.

“Mmm.” is the only reply Renjun can manage as he chuckles lazily. He didn’t even feel like killing Donghyuck for telling you about that because he feels so good like this, in your arms. Renjun hasn’t even noticed that you’ve laid him down till he realizes how horizontal he is.

It felt nice. Being held by someone, being protected by someone, being comforted by someone. Your hands haven’t stopped soothing him for a single moment ever since they started. Renjun hadn’t even noticed that you’d put the covers on him. Or that you were kissing the top of his head till he feels the warmth. It all felt so nice. He barely registers that your shirt is wet from his tears. All he feels are the relaxing patterns you’re drawing onto his skin. It’s the last thing he feels as he drifts off. And though you're gone in the morning, Renjun can swear this is the most sound sleep he's slept in many nights. He feels a thousand times lighter, like someone had lifted a heavy weight off of his chest and he was finally breathing fully.

He smiles as he grabs his phone and sees your name right on the top of his notification list. He reads your message:

‘Hey, shoulder gangster. Sorry I left without telling you but you were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t want to wake you. I wanted to ask you something AND YOU CAN TOTALLY SAY NO. But my brother’s hosting a spring art festival of some sort at my parent’s house this weekend. A lot of his artist friends from his company will be there. Do you maybe wanna come with me?’

And there it was.

Yes, it was funny how quickly people form habits without really meaning to. And in his new habit, Renjun had forgotten the real reason he was with you in the first place.

Eyes on the fucking prize, Renjun thinks as his reality comes crashing back on him.

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puzzlefamily · 3 years ago

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Whoops time for plot and I’m not at my tablet so here’s some headcannons for the AU instead

Yugi and Atem did not endorse the nickname Prince of Games for Judai, they believed it put too much expectation on their son. Unfortunately, it’s difficult to quell when he’s Yugi Muto’s kid.

Pegasus only made one Yubel card, and he made it on a whim(not knowing the significance) to give to Judai. He put it in Yugi and Atem’s hands for the decision of when Judai would recieve the card.

Yubel is still the same spirit from Judai’s past life, and survived where he didn’t, which drove them to protect him fiercely to the point of obsession leading up to his sending them into space.

After they joined souls, Yubel’s madness was quelled and they finally understood how toxic and abusive they’d been, and began the process of becoming a better person.(gonna eventually make this one a comic series to give Yubel a more in-depth character development and give them and Judai development on their relationship)

Judai hates letting others see him showing ‘weakness’ as he calls it, believing he shouldn’t put his pain on the shoulders of others.

Of course, he can’t keep it in all the time, so every now and again he holes up in his room and just lays in the dark alone. That is, until his friends find out what’s going on and do what they can to help him.(another future comic project, so details are gonna be kept hush for now)

Judai still believes that he is entirely at fault for his friends being sacrificed by Bronn, and has even twisted his memory to believe that he willingly attacked knowing what would happen.

Johan is uncomfortable around Yubel for a while after returning from the dark world, and eventually sits down and talks with them about what happened.

Judai developed a crush on Johan over the course of their time together. He tries to hide it but goddammit he is just a clumsy mess around Johan unless they have to be serious about a situation.

Johan is either completely oblivious and becomes the concerned friend asking if he’s okay, or is absolutely aware of it and patiently waiting for Judai to be ready to confess.

Judai’s friends are painfully aware of it, and either try to encourage him outright, or just be subtly like “he’s a pretty cool guy, huh? *Hint hint nudge nudge*”(i have scenarios for both of these options and I cannot wait to draw them)

Judai did in fact enroll under the surname Yuki instead of Muto, partially because he didn’t want the pressure and special treatment, partially because even though his memory of Yubel is repressed he remembers good and well the rumors and bullying about him being cursed when he was little.

When Sho Hayato and Asuka find out he braces himself for them to mention the rumors, but they never get said. Turns out the three of them have heard, but respect and trust Judai and as such do not bring it up.

Edo knows too but doesn’t say anything to anyone other than Judai’s friends cause while he didn’t like or respect Judai at first he’s not gonna be a bully and cause those rumors to start going around again.

When Cobra shows up and calls for an exhibition match between Johan and Judai, he just disregards the poor kid’s wishes and outs him fully as a Muto, saying that “he should feel proud of his lineage, unless he has something to be ashamed of”

Well, now Judai’s gone nonverbal and he can hear students around him whispering about the rumors surrounding the Prince of Games and he just starts preparing himself to make an escape.

That is until Manjome pipes up all “who cares if he’s a Muto? He’s already shown his worth without needing to lean on a name” and his friends join in in defending him, and soon enough all his classmates are agreeing because they all look up to and respect Judai and that opinion’s not gonna change

Judai’s got the fuzzies and is getting all emotional cause he loves his friends, and gets his confidence back for the duel

Fast forward to them getting pulled into the other dimension, a few days into it some of the hungry students start calling back to the rumors, and even though he knows they’re just hungry and scared he still starts to feel some guilt creeping in

After Yubel is revealed and all but Johan returns to the real world, Judai’s guilt from his childhood comes back in full force, and combined with Sato and Cobra’s words he’s now just trying to put all of what Yubel’s done and is doing on his shoulders

Mistakes are made, his friends are lost, and Sho, the one person who’s always been there by his side, his little brother in spirit, snaps and says that all the rumors are true, and Judai is just. Broken.

After everything is resolved and Judai returns from the other dimension, Sho starts apologizing profusely and Judai just. Hugs him and forgives him because they all went through hell back there.

#headcannons #judai yuki #the prince of games || judai #yugioh #yugioh gx #puzzle family au

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some-kindofgnome · 4 years ago

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Kinktober #23: with autumn closing in: Mirio Togata

You’re leaving for college in the morning. Tonight, you want to give Mirio something to remember you by.

i. ii.

Characters: Mirio Togata x f!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+ please!), Quirkless AU, first-time sex, car sex, pre-college angst, lots and lots and lOTS of fumbling and fluff

Notes: Both characters in this story are eighteen years of age. I don’t write underage characters in nsfw situations!!! That being said, this is not proofread. It’s so soft and so messy and all over the place but then again, so is losing your virginity. Today’s (yesterday’s) prompt was “First Time.”

EDIT: nobody asked but the title is inspired by Bob Seger bc I’m a walking m e m e

Kinktober Masterlist

Mirio’s beat-up little Subaru kicks up a cloud of dust as you race around the winding turns of a bendy country road.

You’ve been in this passenger seat a thousand times. Tonight, it feels different.

It’s just before eight, but the late summer sun is already sinking rapidly toward the trees. The days are growing shorter already- it feels like you’ve been chasing the evening sunlight since the Civic Holiday. The first time you noticed the sun setting before nine P.M., you burst into tears.

You’re not ready for the changes that Labour Day will bring.

You’ve had Mirio beside you for as long as you can remember. Since before you ever knew who you were, you had him. Even when the line between friend and more was blurred, you’d transitioned so smoothly into romance. It was like you’d always known that you were it for each other.

Perfection is never permanent.

You’re both quiet, navigating the road that you’d normally cruise with all the happiness in the world. You’ve felt light as a feather, driving up to the point with Mirio before. Even though the windows are down tonight, with all the sweet summer grass wafting heady smells into the car, you’re not blaring the radio or laughing at your latest inside joke.

You’re scared.

This entire year feels like it’s been full of lasts. They started out big-you celebrated your eighteenth birthday together back in the winter. This summer was the last time you both worked at the ice cream parlour down by the water. And slowly the lasts whittled their way down to tonight. One last shred of summer and you and the life you’d once known.

Your very last date.

Mirio has been hasty to remind you that it’s not your last date forever, just for a little while. Just until Thanksgiving, he promises, or maybe even earlier, if he can come out to see you before the semester gets too busy. But neither of you know what to expect from college. And perhaps that’s what makes tonight all the scarier.

Among other things.

The point is completely deserted tonight, the late summer chill a likely culprit. It’s not much more than a little clearing in some trees off the bend of this dark road, but it kind of looks over the illuminated part of town and it’s generally where people with cars go to make out.

It’s the only privacy you could think of.

Mirio pulls carefully off the road, rolling along the gravel path until your neat little town opens up beneath you. He shifts the car into park and shuts off the rattling engine. He unfastens his seatbelt and, finally, he looks at you.

It’s too dark to appreciate the shade of his eyes. But they shine dark in the dim of a waxing moon, steady and strong despite the nerves that tremble beneath them.

“You sure about this?” One big, warm hand covers yours and if you weren’t sure before, it’s enough to comfort you.

“Yes,” you promise, leaning in close. You brush the tip of your nose against his, letting your eyes flutter shut. “I’m so sure.”

You’re unbuckling your own seatbelt when he leans across the center console and cups your chin in one rough palm.

“God,” he whispers, licking his lips. “I love you.”

He kisses you before you can let the words bring you to tears.

Tonight you’ve promised to take one last first together. It’s something both of you have wanted for a long time- but neither of you quite felt ready for. Not until now, with the deep fog of autumn and your inevitable separation closing in.

You plant a palm on his thigh, stroking the rough denim with your thumb as you lean closer to him. Your kissing deepens naturally. He knows exactly how to kiss you to get your head spinning. And when he breaks from your mouth with a little pant of warm breath, your head’s in the clouds.

“Wanna…” He trails off, flushing in the dark. “Wanna get in the back?”

His little car is almost comically small for a guy of Mirio’s size, but the dented hatchback is all the space he’s ever needed. Tonight, the back seats are folded down, and there’s a stack of pillows and blankets awaiting you.

You kiss his forehead and nod, pulse spiking.

“Okay.”

You climb back first, navigating carefully over the center console and bracing a hand on Mirio’s shoulder. The roof is lower than you expected, but there’s enough room for you to prop yourself up on your elbows and watch him climb clumsily back to meet you.

His foot slips just as he’s transferring his weight forward and he has to catch himself on the passenger’s seat, erupting nervous laughter from both of you.

“Man,” he sighs, crawling over the microfiber seat back and settling down next to you. “I knew I was gonna be a big ole klutz tonight.”

“You’re always a big ole klutz,” you hum. You bring one hand to the back of his neck, threading your fingers into his blonde hair. This time, when you kiss him, it’s slow and lingering. And when you draw back, you keep your forehead pushed against his.

“’S why I love you so much.”

“Here,” he croons, stroking your cheek again with a tender thumb. “Lemme look at you again.” He does, pausing for a moment as his eyes cast over your face. “I wanna remember every piece of this when you’re gone.”

At some point, you’re ready to stop stalling. He kisses you with fresh intent, crawling gently over you in the tight space that surrounds you. He’s careful to keep his weight off of you, letting one hand trail idly to the front of your sweatshirt, toying with its hem.

“Here,” you sigh, sitting up a little. “Let me just…”

Mirio pulls back, ducking and still nearly hitting his head on the gently-padded ceiling of the car. You wiggle out of your sweatshirt as best you can, wedged between him and the pillows beneath you. Your t-shirt sticks to your hoodie as you worm out of it, but you get impatient and pull the whole mess over your head.

Beats having to sit up all over again in a few seconds.

Mirio’s seen you like this before. In bikinis at the beach, in your sports bras when you work out together, for brief flashes if you change your shirt in front of him before heading out the door.

But tonight, all your exposed skin is for him. Tonight it’s with intent. Tonight, he gets to touch you.

He mumbles your name, timid as a mouse as he buries his face in the swell of your bare shoulder. He peppers loving kisses along the flesh, and you can feel, when the weight of his hips bears down on you, that he’s already getting excited.

It sends a thrill racing down your spine. Not the first time you’ve felt a twinge at the apex of his thighs. But it is the first time you’ll be chasing that high to its completion.

“Can… can I…” He trails off, and his fingertips brush against the band at the bottom of your bra.

“Can I touch you here?”

“Yeah,” you gasp, but you’re still not ready for the way it feels when his fingers slip beneath the cup and brush over your tender skin. He distracts you, kissing attentively at your collarbone, while he arches your back and unsnaps your bra. Lowering your bare back to the blanket is a foreign feeling but you welcome it, lifting your arms and letting him pull the whole affair away from your body.

“God,” he gasps, sitting up a little. “Look at you. You’re so gorgeous, princess.” He slides both palms up your ribcage, following a trail of goosebumps to the swell of your breasts. He thumbs both of your nipples, palming the flesh eagerly and getting a feel for the way that you fill his hands.

“Are you sure about this?” Conflict crosses his expression and your eyes pop up to his in shock.

“What?”

“With me,” he expands. “You’re so perfect, I-I just… wanted to make sure.”

“Baby,” you gasp. You sit up and wrap your arms around his torso, pulling him harshly down against your body so you can hug him close. He lets out little more than a yelp of surprise before he relents, chest deflating against yours.

“I’ve loved you…” you start to say, tearing up rapidly, “since before I even knew what love was, Mirio. You’re the only person I’ve ever wanted this with.”

“Aw, sweetheart…” He mutters into your skin, kissing you one more time as he sits up to find your eyes. “Don’t cry, princess, please don’t start crying.” He swipes away the trail of a tear that leaks from the corner of your eye.

“I’m not, I’m not,” you promise, clinging tightly to him. “I just don’t want this to end.”

The two of you undress the rest of the way as swiftly as you can. He peels you tenderly out of your leggings, and your exposed flesh feels vulnerable, even under his adoring gaze. But when he shucks off his undershorts, the dark flush that’s working its way down his chest proves that you’re not the only one who’s feeling a little shy.

He’s fully hard and ready for you, cock standing straight out from between his kneeling thighs. You’re definitely feeling a twinge, but it’s with a twist of self-consciousness in your gut. You’re going to need a little more preparation.

“Here,” he whispers, breaking the silence. He gets slowly onto his belly between your thighs, and you try not to lick your lips as you watch the way his cock presses up between the blanket and his firm body.

Mirio settles one hand on your thigh and the other on the mound of your pussy. He’s not touching you anywhere sensitive yet, but he lifts his head one more time to make sure you’re still with him.

“Can…” he starts to say, but you interrupt him.

“Please.”

With slow circles of his thumb, he begins to explore you. He strokes every inch of your folds, up and down the length of your slit. He finds the little nub at its apex and bites his lip, giving it an experimental little rub.

“Is this it?” He prompts.

“Y-yeah,” you stutter. Already you’re starting to clench your fists in the blanket underneath you. “Ah, a little higher. That’s it.”

You gasp as he follows your instructions, swiping his thumb a little higher and making you bristle. He dips a finger down towards your slit, swallowing hard when the skin comes away shiny.

“You’re wet, princess,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Are you ready for me?”

“Almost,” you promise. You know the anticipation must be killing him. But you’ve always been able to ask for what you need with him. He promised you a million times that this wouldn’t be any different. And he’s holding that promise close, it’s obvious.

“I need…” You take a deep breath and center yourself. “Inside. A little, first. Just so it doesn’t… hurt so much.”

“Okay.” He nods. “Okay. Like this?”

He flips his hand over and probes the tip of his middle finger against your folds, then wiggles it carefully and slides it inside you. Your back arches a little at the feeling- you curl your toes, and you both gasp.

“Whoa,” he murmurs into your skin. “You’re so tight, Princess. I can’t wait to feel all of you. God, you’re even wetter in here.”

He starts to slide his finger slowly in and out of you, pumping with a smooth and steady rhythm. You’re letting yourself get used to the sensation, but it’s not long before your accustomed and squirming against his knuckles.

“Another one,” you prompt.

“Are you sure?” He’s mesmerized by your body’s reaction, but he doesn’t want to hurt you.

You nod. He listens, pulling away. When he slides his finger back into you it’s accompanied by his ring finger, and that’s a stretch you’re not quite so used to. You let a little whimper loose and spread your legs further, trying your best to consciously relax your muscles.

“That’s it,” he soothes, smoothing his free hand over your belly. “Tell me when you’re ready, baby. Tell me when to stop.”

He eases his fingers in and out of you a few times. You gently roll your hips forward, encouraging him into that same rhythm as before. Finally, after a few dozen heartbeats that pass like eons, you put a hand on his wrist. You’re not sure if there’s a threshold you’re supposed to wait for or not, but his fingers feel comfortable and you’re getting wetter by the second.

You don’t want to wait any longer.

“Okay,” you brush. “I’m ready.”

“Alright.” He draws back, getting up onto his knees again. “Oh- hang on, I’ve got…”

He trails off, reaching past you for his jacket. He grabs it and dives into the buttoned inside pocket, pulling out a wrapped condom. You’d bought them together a few nights ago in preparation for this. Taking advantage of the big drugstore in the next town over, with workers that are strangers to you. And a self-checkout kiosk.

“Here.” You pluck the condom from his fingers, shooting him a quiet little smile. “Let me.”

You unwrap it carefully, handling the slick, flimsy ring as little as possible. He scoots forward, and his cock bobs obscenely in your face. It sends a throb of ready want through the pit of your stomach. You’ve always kind of assumed that he isn’t small, but here’s your proof.

You pinch the reservoir tip in the center of the condom and push it against the tip of his penis. He twitches a little but holds himself still, and you do your best to roll the rest of the condom all the way down to the base. When you get there, you give the shaft a gentle squeeze, smooth and hard and warm and Mirio.

He sits back on his heels once the condom’s secure. Lets out a deep, decompressing sigh. You do the same. He looks at you with the moon in his eyes, and you fall more profoundly in love with him than ever before.

“Ready?” He’s quiet.

“Yeah.”

Carefully, Mirio lines himself up. He leans forward over you, trapping one of your hands beneath his and twining your fingers together. You think about hitching your legs over his hips, but keep them spread for now, instead. Just the mere position you’ve taken feels incredibly vulnerable.

Then he slips a hand between the two of you and brings the tip of his cock to your body.

Oh.

“Take a deep breath,” he whispers to you. “I love you.” You inhale, and as the air leaves your chest he edges slowly inside.

“Oh,” he groans. “Oh wow.”

The stretch is not as bad as you anticipated. He’s big, but he prepared you diligently and carefully, and he’s taking things slowly. He eases his hips forward a little more with every breath until he’s bottomed out, as far inside as he can get.

He peppers kisses all over your face, brushing your nose with an eyelash on the way back up.

“How do you feel?” He mumbles. “’m I hurting you, princess?”

“No,” you sigh. “No, you can move.”

He draws himself slowly out of your body, then anchors himself and sinks eagerly back in. He keeps the gentle back-and-forth motion up for a couple of beats, and when he begins to speed up it’s slowly, checking in with you again and again to make sure you’re still enjoying yourself.

Finally, his rhythm breaks. He finds a steady pace, letting the muted clap clap clap of your bodies syncopate with the heady huh huh huh that escapes his chest with every thrust. You let your head fall back against the pillows, holding him tight and doing your best to lose yourself in the pleasure.

“Oh, man, oh god, p-princess, I’m not gonna last very long,” he warns carefully. Already his expression is starting to draw with ecstasy. And you’re ready to let him go.

“It’s okay,” you promise quietly, staring in wonder up at him. “Just let it happen, Mirio. Come for me, baby, I wanna see it.”

“Okay,” he babbles, “okay, okay, aw… s-shit, I-I can’t… shit!”

He slips a hand under your thigh and tugs it upward as his thrusts lose rhythm and his body breaks into shivers. You can’t feel the warm burst inside you, but you know it’s there as he twitches atop you, stalling and trembling hard over your skin as he loses himself.

When it’s over, he sits back on his heels, looking down at his softening cock and the filled condom. He looks…

Disappointed.

“Mirio?” You sit up. Your heartbeat spikes. You’re trying not to panic. “Mirio? What’s wrong? You didn’t like it?”

“What? No.” He cups your face between his still-shaking hands. “No, no, no, I just… I didn’t make you…”

“Oh.” Your cheeks warm. You’re not going to pretend like you didn’t see it coming. “Well… it’s okay, Mirio, it’s not that easy for me to come just from that. I didn’t think you were going to…”

“No,” he insists, sounding more determined than you’ve heard him in a long time. “No. I’m gonna make you. I gotta try. Please let me try. Please.”

You swallow hard. You give a terse little nod, and he lays you back against the pillows. When he reaches for you, you stop him.

“Just… get rid of the condom first.”

He goes maroon.

“Right.”

As soon as the condom’s been disposed of, he comes back to you. He gets down on his belly again, just like before. With his diligent fingers and careful perception, you coach him through giving you his first orgasm. It’s not earth-shattering. It’s not the best orgasm you’ve ever had. But it’s a peak, and he’s so proud when he kisses you back to the surface again and pulls the blankets up around your bare bodies.

When you’re finished, the car’s windows are garishly fogged. It’s warm and stuffy and cramped, but you couldn’t care less.

You know how this goes. You’ve had enough aunts and uncles teasing you about the turkey dump already. Not you, though. Not Mirio. Tonight’s first only solidifies that to you.

You’re more than distance can take away from you.

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