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daegulinekush · 2 years

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The death of peace of mind

~ A Kim Taehyung fanfiction

Chapter one: ★ I hope my last breath is a sigh of relief ★

Contains: underage smoking, smoking, reference to past events (will be discovered later), reference to (lack of) mental health, drinking, some nakedness (?), drunk OC, Balkan culture insert, some cursing, Jimin can be a meanie T-T

(please tell me if I forgot anything)

The multicolored lights are swirling around the otherwise dark room, landing on different bodies and different clothes, sparks of green, red and blue all around. It’s a typical Friday night, to put it like that. It isn’t the first time me, Jimin and Taehyung get out at questionable hours, when the Moon has already rised high in the sky and the street lamps along with the ones of the closed shops make everything somehow seem even more magical.

It’s the way we’ve always gone through life, in a way, taking everything in strides, solving things as they come and making the best out of them.

Finals have been a pain this year and even more, the exam for getting into University have got us with anxiety brimming over the roof. The tension taking over all of our bodies and minds is something we must relieve as fast as possible, the creases in the foreheads and the bags under the eyes along with sparkles dimming along with the informational dump we did on ourselves and lost nights of sleep make us look somewhat older.

Maybe it’s normal to look older, considering the new phase of life we’re all entering together. It’s a huge luck, in all honesty, that all three of us are the same age. Universe truly couldn’t have us be separated, it seems like.

It makes sense. I don’t know what I would have done without any of those two, but even more without Taehyung. After all, not losing my sanity entirely during those last four years and even the four before those have been mostly his doing, even as we have been more separated than together in the first part of our lives.

The music or, better said, the bass of it shakes my whole heart and guides my body to the rhythm. It’s quite hypnotizing and as always, I know most of this night will be a blur of feelings and laughter. I’m not limiting myself anymore tonight, safely kept under the eyes of the two men I trust most in my life.

The music already makes adrenaline thrum through my veins, along with the pre-drinking game me and Jimin had before going out, each drowning a few shots of soju. I wasn’t such a fan of it, it never truly rubbed on me, the drink itself, as I’m more of the sweet alcohol kind of enjoyer, but I could never refuse a shot - especially when I genuinely felt the need to stop my mind from working after it raced constantly for a too extended period of time. Even less could I refuse when he swore up and down this one is sweeter than the usual one, as he decided to entertain me with the mix of soju and sakura blossoms with a bit of cherry. It did feel less like I was drinking straight up sanitary alcohol, the supposed burn on the throat not a problem, but still not a favorite of mine.

Getting over the alcohol problem and how different mine and Jimin’s tastes are for it, what I do vaguely remember and will probably not forget for quite a few days is me trying desperately to fix my eyeliner - a feat in itself with my obvious white genes and hooded eyes - already wearing a crop top tight on my skin, so tiny it basically almost made my chest spill from it with black bra and all, along with some too ripped jeans to be for anything else than partying. The heavy boots I was wearing had thick platforms and helped me gain around an inch, but those boys always seem to forget I am much shorter than them expect for the occasions they find to tease me about it - with Jimin as main bully. So yes, I do remember very clearly the coldness of the sink when they a bit too enthusiastically and hurriedly told me to move faster while basically squishing me and forcing the edge of the cold sink to almost dig into my exposed abdomen, just as well as I remember the space being too tiny, Jimin’s front of the jeans brushing unintentionally over my ass and the way I snapped at them to get out before I strangle someone.

That being said, I obviously don’t remember how we got there, in this club - is that really a club or just a basement someone tried so hard to make a club out of?

It doesn’t truly matter either. We’re here to dance and get drunk however you take it.

Jimin is lost somewhere in the crowd as I remain close to Tae - or he sticks to my side, I can’t even be sure of which one is the case with how oftenly we are together - and I spot him easily with my gaze, a few meters away, lights shining on him as they always do, his head thrown back as his hair slick with sweat makes him look even better, his already large and exposing sleeveless shirt somehow pooled (wrapped?) around his hips as my cheeky friend enjoys the swirl of women around him, one with dirty blonde hair, letting the slight yellow-brownish liquid of what seems like beer with the foam it makes slowly glide over his chiseled chest and between the lines of his abdomen as he dares chuckle and even pull his pants the tiniest bit lower with his fingers wrapped around his buckle.

Shameless, more than usual, and I can only blame it on the stress he’s wnet through, maybe even more than us, with his constant need of being the best in what he does and being his parents’ proudness. It always makes me wonder who’s the worse influence: me, with my crazy ideas steemed out of endless balkan normal activities deemed as bad ideas and good memories, as I have grown in an entirely different culture, or him, with his impossible tolerance to alcohol and the way he loses himself when it comes to a party he feels comfortable during?

I rip my eyes from the way both sweat and alcohol drip from Jimin’s skin in favor of seeing my childhood bestfriend - Taehyung - with his green tips and slightly long hair, bangs falling onto his forehead, his black leather jacket barely hanging onto one of his shoulders, the wideness of them making him look more masculine with every new year passing. He’s tall, way taller than me, in the way I can’t even reach his shoulder without wearing heels. This time, I barely brush them, as he’s decided to wear sneakers. He looks as good as always, with the way one of the corners of his lips curl upwards in what seems like a smirk at first, but I know better, as his dark eyes sparkle slightly and his big hand reaches for mine slowly. It’s easy to give in when it comes to him, it’s always been easy and I’ve always adored giving into the moments of slight goofiness as he grips my hand in such a gentle way, always gentle and warm, just like him, his fingertips merely pinching mine as he makes me twirl and then pulls me closer with his other arm be wrapping it around my lower back in a way that lets me feel the coldness of the leather barely brushing my skin, but never actually touching it properly nor pressing.

Blurs like this one are something I live for. The simple feeling of losing yourself in a crowd, in happiness, while also knowing that whatever will happen I don’t have to worry about anything around me and I can just soak in those feelings. Somehow, it feels like time is endless and so am I with it.

It’s not the first time I feel like this, like me and him are the only ones mattering and existing in this world. On the contrary, it’s became more and more common since we started living under the same roof four years ago. It’s maybe the way he smiles at me, the way his lips twitch first and his eyes crinkle at the corners just for his teeth to entirely be showed in a boxy smile that makes his cheeks look even fuller, just warmth emanating from every pore of him. Maybe it’s the way he has to bend down so much to be at almost the same level with me, yet it never seems to bother him, how time has put so many centimeters between our bodies. Maybe it’s simply the way we sway together and as the song changes, air becomes electrified and we dance more and more, swirl more and more with each other, always so in tune with the other’s movements. The way he gives into my way of moving too, the way he’s always been my number one support, the way he never makes fun of me for wishing to show my culture instead of inhibiting it or even try dances from other cultures I grew up surrounded by, be it from media or other ways.

Just like now, as the songs become more and more repetitive and in a burst of moment, an impulsiveness, making me go and change the song with one the majority are not used to at all, the oriental rhythm taking over my body in such a natural way, one I know since little.

The song is Albanian, a definitive change to the korean r&b that was put, the trumpets strange for the ones not used to this. For me, though, they are like breathing, like dancing is for Jimin, like paint and photography are for Taehyung, and being with those two has always made me more comfortable in my skin, even in a sea of people who might scrunch their noses in disgust instead of having the openness to try different things.

It’s not any different now. Taehyung knows very well the way I move, just as I know his, the endless nights when we would dance together in the kitchen with his siblings looking at us curiously and his mother inevitably laughing and taking it all in deeply imprinted in our memories. Days when the homesickness would be too much for me, when he would do anything to pull a smile out of me, when nights of silent crying alone will never truly end alone, as if he was able to sense when the worst parts of me would swallow the best, trying to rot them.

It’s the way it became memory muscle, maybe, to bend my knees and twist my hips in synchron with his as we drop at the same time and then pull ourselves right back up. It’s the way our feet move fastly but don’t knock into each other anymore. It’s the way his long fingers intertwine with mine and I can feel his huge hand swallowing mine in it’s strengthening grip, knowing better than to let go of me for this one. It’s the way my mind can still recite in my ears the sweet thump our feet used to make on the wooden floor back home with every harsh hit specific to this dance. Or maybe it’s just the way I grip better his hand, to the point our very bones seem to want to mingle together, to make space for each other and become one as he bends himself at the waist with his jacket on one of his shoulders and makes a harsh flutter out of it, heavy and bursting so much happiness within me that I can’t help but let my head fall back and my hair tickle my shoulders as I laugh whole heartedly.

There’s no better feeling than having him by my side. Even as Jimin is his soulmate, I have never felt more complete than with my bear, my sweetest honey. He’s the very life buzzing through my veins, the most human parts of me, the brightest of lights shining through my cracks. He’s such a heavy part of me that the moment his breath will stop, I will force mine to do so too.

There’s no life without him and I am deeply convinced of that. No matter who will come into my life, into my soul, they will never have the same impact as he has on me. Not when with him, I learnt the best how to not back down, how to not waver, how proudness truly feels like. Not when he’s seen me at my very worst and has been my very backbone, when he’s someone my very heart and life has stood on the hands of for so long.

As colors and moves blur together, as my head becomes dizier and dizier, swirling around and Jimin comes back to us, the scent of all kinds of alcohol etched into his skin from his previous games, I can feel all of the stress leaving my mind and my body. Jimin is already holding a bottle of something I do not recognize in his hand, a firm grasp over the still not opened bottle, the etiquette of it entirely blurred to my eyes. Better said, I did not care enough to focus on the mark nor the contents of the new object, focused rather on the way Taehyung’s fingers fish into the back pocket of his jeans for the obvious: a pack of cigarettes.

If with Jimin I am not sure which one of us is the worse influence, with Taehyung I am sure it’s me. Sometimes, I think that maybe he wouldn’t have smoked if I wasn’t enough of a fool to let him try a cigarette and actually teach him how to drag the toxic smoke into his lungs. Maybe if I, myself, have not been foolish enough to start smoking at 14, both due to cultural things I have grown up with and the events that had taken place dragging me to my only actual addiction, maybe then he wouldn’t have smoked right now. The only contentment I am left with on this subject is the fact that he’s not smoking a lot unless under heavy stress and as such, I don’t stress much on the guilt trying to take over my mind, rather preferring to admire the way his slender fingers pull out one of the cigarettes. I have never exactly understood his reason for not keeping the filter between his pointer and middle finger, many times teasing him about how he’s making it look like he’s smoking anything but mere, legal tabbacoo from the way he hold it. Needless to say, it hasn’t changed his way of holding the flimsy tube. It is funny, though, to see how small it looks in his hands anyways. How tiny and breakable.

Without a word, I simply pull another one from his pack, Volvo, as I steal the lighter from his very same hand. I can literally feel his amused yet burning gaze on me as I inhale deeply the toxic smoke, then let it slowly leave my lips, my red lipstick sticking to the filter as I pull the cigarette from my mouth.

“What?” I kind of scream so he would hear me over the loud music. I can hear Jimin snickering by me left side, right between me and Taehyung, but I pay it no mind.

“Stop stealing my cigs. You’ve got your own” his voice is deep, deeper than the bass of the flimsy song playing now. It was a shock that my mind somehow still took sometimes, once in a while. After all, I’ve known him for so long that I am one of the few people who actually remembers very well how his voice used to sound before puberty hit him. Smoking has somehow got it even raspier, even if it’s not been long since he started.

“What’s yours is also mine” I could feel my lips splitting in a the cockiest of grins ever. “Especially when I’m the reason you could avoid mom killing you in the first place, or have you already forgotten that for her, this is /my/ pack of cigs?”

It was impossible to not tease him endlessly about it. We all knew his mom would have his head if she heard he started smoking. She’s even found his pack of cigarettes in his jacket. As his best friend, of course I warned him that if she ever is to ask about it, it’s mine. It’s also very believable and easy to get over with, as she knows I started smoking way too early and the reasons behind, just like she knows this protective bear has always got something on him to cover me with in case of cold.

Years might pass and we might change, but some things will always remain the same, which is in some way incredibly comforting. One of those things is how adorable his smile is and the way he pouts at my teasing when he realizes I’m right - like now, his lips a bit red and pushed out.

“If you’re going to smoke I’m literally gonna leave. Don’t want the stink on me” Jimin frowned. He’s scolded us already a thousand times for this and even as I know he’s right, I also frankly don’t wanna hear it. The way I entered my teenage years was already terribly messy and this is truly the easiest of ways I’ve coped with it all. In all honesty, I could have done a lot worse.

Inevitably, both me and Taehyung decide to move to a corner of the room, closer to the exit, where more people smoked, as for the ‘stink’ to get out easier, faster.

Not like that could kill the mood. No, quite the contrary, because of the quite too many people there, we ended up being even closer, bodies so close they were almost glued. It has passed some times since we’ve been quite this close physically, but it happened so naturally, the slight distance, that I haven’t remarked until now, not truly.

It made sense for the slight limits to be build, though. After all, he had a girlfriend and they had been together since the second year of highschool. She was a bit older than him, I have met her on the pass. I didn’t necessarily like her that much but it didn’t matter as she was making him happy. He’s been sparkling for quite some time and as much as she wasn’t the reason behind his sadness, I didn’t mind. I simply want him happy, appreciated to his true value.

It would be a shitty move for me to not back down a bit, even as his best friend. I am still a girl and I do understand very clearly that some things are just not to be done. We also did grow up, after all. It can’t be the same as it was before and it’s normal, but that doesn’t make it bad. We are just as close, just in different ways, after all.

Want it or not, the adrenaline and pre-game got me slightly buzzed. Feeling free after so long definitely gets one to feel different, in a good way. As I pull another smoke from the cigarette, my eyes fall on the way smoke leave’s Taehyung’s, his shoulders slightly crouched, along with his chin downwards to his chest, a strand of his hair falling over his forehead as his back slightly touches the wall behind.

The crowd is quite chaotic here and I can feel his other had on my hip, pulling me closer to him. I can feel a breath being pulled out of my lungs, the only reason I recognize it as being his hand being how used I am to him. It surprises me, gets me a bit out of balance, and my own hands are pushed in front of me to find something to grasp onto, out of possible habit clutching to his wide shoulders and putting myself back onto my own feet.

He smells of sweat and cologne, dark and yet fresh, masculine in a way that’s so comforting, so homey, cozy. If warmth had a smell, that would be Taehyung.

The song is another than I was aware of a few minutes ago, one I know we both enjoy, and just by the slight arch of his eyebrow I can tell already what he’s trying to signal me. Silent, without any words needed because there’s no need for one.

Fondness. I truly can’t help it, can’t help the way it washes over me, the way I shake my head and roll my eyes, but I wrap my arm around his middle anyways and pull myself closer to him, by his side, our hips rolling and moving with the rhythm of the song, left and right, time passing by.

I’m not sure how the time passes. I don’t know how the songs blend together nor do I know if I’m even real as the lights and adrenaline of being finally free, even for just one night, blind my mind until the moment from a slow sway of bodies I feel the contrast of coldness creeping up my spine and warmth at the front, forced to open my eyes instead of continuing to lose myself.

It’s still him close to me, the same Taehyung, but this time his jacket is entirely off from his shoulders, sleeves wrapped around his middle. He’s more touchy than usual, even as I know he hasn’t put one drop of alcohol on his tongue, the usual of lately, but time does happen to drift people apart as things pile up. It’s been so long since we’ve had our once usually weekly night of marathons and spilling tea, talking about everything and anything that came to our minds, nights that usually ended up in us falling asleep in the same bed, cuddled together, both refusing to let go.

His eyes are like the sky itself would be in a totally isolated part of this world, away from all the artificial lights, sparkling with such force that they seem to hold entire galaxies, all the stars in the universe, while also being so dark, so focused. I’ve always loved his eyes, the expresiveness of them. I also loved the way they had always looked at me with warmth, trust, openness.

Never have I expected for them to ever feel…heavy. Dark in a way that wasn’t just because I was teasing him or pissed him with something and he was ready to scold me, but for a reason unknown to me.

Cornered. I was basically cornered and if it had been someone else, another man, my body would have gone into fight mode, I would have kicked, would have searched for a way to escape.

Yet, this was Taehyung. Taehyung, whom I trust more than I trust myself. So I wasn’t frightened nor was I worried. Panic didn’t lick up my spine, especially not as even in his moves his hands have been careful as to not have me making a painful contact with the wall, one of his arms around my back and the other behind my head. It was hard to fear someone you’ve literally slept squished under, feeling his warmth seep into your very bones and soul.

The one behind my head moved as to prop his body onto the wall, by the side of it, I could see it with the corner of my eye the place where it sprawled his long fingers over the wall, while the other I could feel slightly gripping at the part that wasn’t exposed from my hip, the high waisted jeans definitely helping in that aspect.

I wasn’t sure what happened to get to this point. Maybe it was too crowded and someone had almost knocked into me without me realizing, as it wouldn’t be the first time something like this has happened, just like it wouldn’t be the first time he would pull me away to avoid such an incident.

So why did it feel heavier? Why is my whole body electrified, why is my heart beating like that? It’s hard to breath and yet it feels so good, the closeness, the way he leans more into me, the way the tips of our noses touch.

Maybe, deep within myself, I’ve missed being close to him, without limits, without worrying about his girlfriend taking it the wrong way. The way we used to be.

The tips of our noses rub together in soft affection and I can feel his hand cupping my cheek, closing my eyes to relish in the warmth of it all, more or less voluntary a smile blooming onto my lips, even as he slightly tilts my chin. He smells of tobacco and a slight tint of strawberry, even his breath is warm.

The ache I feel is for the old times, right? For how this reminds me of them, of thousand of nights spent curled up together, of the times when there was no care for what others might believe of our closeness or our friendship…right?

“We should go back to Jimin” I whisper, even as there’s heaviness on my chest, one I truly can’t explain from where it comes. “Someone might see us and think the wrong thing”

Because I truly don’t want to put his girlfriend in such a position, in the position where she wonders, where she deals with maybe rised insecurities. I don’t want to provoke her heartbreak nor get between them. As much as Taehyung is happy, so am I.

“It wouldn’t be the first time people take our friendship the wrong way” and even with all of this loud music, it feels like the noise is just that: background noise, his voice the only one mattering.

He’s right. I know he is. Many had taken our friendship for more than it is, teasing about how it can’t be true for our friendship to be just that. Just because of our sexes. Just because technically, we could be attracted to each other.

“I know” and yet, even if I know, even if it wouldn’t matter if anyone else would have thought of it as literally any point, I still searched in the crowd for Jimin. “Let’s go. Yo, Chim!” I screamed over the crowd as we moved. “I bet I can down more shots than you!”

Doom. Those words truly had been the way the night went more or less downhills. It wasn’t the first time I was trying to out-drink Jimin and it surely wouldn’t be the last, each time leaving Taehyung to take care of our asses, but it was just something about it that rose competitiveness within me everytime my God complex went a bit too far, maybe.

Shot after shot of things I can’t and won’t bother remembering, I could feel my mind buzzing more and more, the warmth and dizziness of alcohol setting in more into my bones, along with a weird slugishness.

From there, I can remember just fragments. I remember at some point dancing between Jimin and Taehyung, deciding to go home when the streets were already way too empty, for once the city almost quiet, except the cars - at least in this zone of Seoul.

We all knew it wouldn’t last much either. We had to pass some bridges, somehow deciding walking was a ‘good idea’ - it was totally not, but at least we were together in it.

Getting out of the huge mass of sweaty bodies was the first step to make - one which happened with a lot of pushes, pulls and quite blurred everything.

Once outside, with the cold air of the night hitting my face, I felt my brain slightly scrambling itself together, none of us actually so drunk we got a blackout or something - never gonna be /that/ reckless. My boots were making harsh sounds against the pavement as I slightly struggled to walk.

“Got so pretty for nothing. You promised you’d take photos of me, TaeTae, and all I got was you and Chim knocking me into the sink!” I couldn’t help but grumble, definitely not satisfied at all with the prospect of ending this night with no photo.

Maybe I was being too sensitive from the alcohol, but a promise is a promise and it bugged me. It truly bugged me, the thought that maybe he’s said it just for the hell of it or out of habit, even as I know he’d never promise me something he can’t fullfil. Maybe this is exactly why it bugged me so much.

Lucky or not, both me and Jimin had some cans of juice to drink, more empty than anything with the thirst that followed and Taehyung bugging at us to drown the juice. Jimin was more awake and more composed than me, but I didn’t feel /that/ drunk either.

I was merely hanging onto Taehyung’s arm, my own wrapped around it, in order to keep myself warm - which led to him simply putting his jacket onto me, as it usually happens.

I heard Jimin laughing, a “Yah! You forgot about your promise, Tae!” leaving his lips.

As the good friend he is, I pulled the phone from his pocket and fixed it on my empty can, moving back to at least take some decent photos after I set the timer.

With the world slightly swirling around me, I inevitably almost stepped on his poor phone - which led to yet another one of our usual bantings.

"Why my phone?! No, my phone, don't —"

Messy. This night could be any messier?

Laughter and blurred lights and just as blurred roads and steps, our voices maybe a bit too loud for the almost silent city, along with the late (early?) hour, but it didn't matter to us.

"I didn't get to take any photos! Jimin, this is your fault!"

"How's it my fault that you broke my phone?!"

"I didn't break it!"

"You almost did!"

"Almost! I would have bought you a new one if I did!"

"You better would have! You should have!"

"Then why don't /you/ take some photos of me! Or what, am I not attractive enough to be your muse or something?" I basically anything but hissed at him.

"I'd rather fuck a rat, in all honesty"

"You little shit—"

I ended up inevitably squished between Taehyung and Jimin, Jimin's hand around my hip, his fingers firm on the skin. Unlike Taehyung, who had his arm around my shoulder and insistently pulled for some reason at his already huge jacket to cover me better — probably because of the cold of the night — and seemed keen in not touching me too much.

"So, what was that between the two of you?" Jimin broke the silence as we strutted over the bridge from one side of the road to the other.

"What do you mean?" I couldn't help but ask. With all of the stuff that happened tonight and in general with his cryptic way of words, it was hard for me to tell what Jimin was referring to.

"The way you were so close. Taehyung, you have a girl-"

"And me and ____ are just friends". His voice was more gruff than usual, seemingly tired.

"My feet hurt" I couldn't help but whine, the heels suddenly not so worth it anymore, no matter how comfy when sober.

"It didn't seem like so and I'm pretty sure someone could have taken a photo of you two in that position and—" Jimin started rambling.

Yet, Taehyung was crouching in front of me as I struggled to take off my boots, feeling the pain literally burst through my feet in harsh waves.

"You can't walk like that, _____, there could be anything on the road—"

"Then carry me!" I whined, high pitched and annoyed. "Piggyback me home" I pouted at him, flaring my arms around helplessly.

Warmth. There was warmth again in his gaze, along with a chuckle, and just a few moments after I was happily snuggled at his back, his fingers gripping close to my knees.

We used to do this a lot when we were younger, in all honesty.

Finally arriving home — mine and Taehyung's, Jimin's being close by — I was simply let to fall softly into the bed, more like slip down bit by bit like a slime until I was comfortably taking over the entirety of it.

They were talking, but I could barely register their voices anymore, already tired enough to simply fall asleep.

Do I truly need to explain the headache I felt the next day? It would be easier than explaining how by some kind of miracle Jimin's phone had got to take some good photos of me, but pretty worthless.

Hey, petals! This was the first chapter of this fic. I hope you liked it and anything regarding it is welcome and even asked! (Reblogs, tags, asks etc)

I would love to see how you felt or what impressions you have over OC/Jimin/Taehyung!

Tagging @naomihatake because I couldn't have done this without her encouraging me and also tagging @parkdatjimin because this sweet angel said she wanna see it 🥺 👉👈

#kim taehyung #taehyung fanfic #taehyung x reader #bts fanfiction

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v-hope · 4 years

Text

One Way Ticket

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Reader (ft. Yeontan bc Family)

Genre: Flufffff, established relationship, long distance relationship (not for long), and like, slight angst at the beginning if you squint your eyes and do a backflip

Word Count: 4k

Summary: Long distance relationships are never an easy thing, and although you and Taehyung had managed to make it work for four years and were used to not seeing each other that much already, he couldn’t help but feel like his birthday was ruined at the news of you being stuck at the airport due to a bad weather flight delay. However, although things didn’t quite go to plan, it only took for you to arrive two hours before the day was over for it to be his happiest of birthdays so far.

A/N: Hellooo, well, obviously this is for my man’s birthday 🥳💝 This story takes place in my Red Flags series’ timeline since one of you requested it and I thought it would be really cute, but you don’t need to have read it to understand what’s going on here. I hope you guys enjoy! please let me know your thoughts~

“You were supposed to be here today” Taehyung reminded you, unconsciously tightening his hold on the phone as his low voice did a good job at letting you know just how upset he was.

You sighed, that alone letting him know you weren’t having a good time with said fact that was just not happening anymore either. “I can’t control the weather, love…”

Now, he knew that. Of course he knew that. But right then, he really fucking wished you did control the weather. That way you wouldn’t be stuck in another continent still due to a snowstorm that had delayed, if not cancelled, all flights that week — a stupid snowstorm that was keeping you away from him for longer than you should have.

It was a joke. It had got to be a joke.

That was what Taehyung kept telling himself throughout the whole phone call, and continuing to believe —to wanting to believe— so even after you hung up.

You were supposed to arrive that night. That had been the plan all along. All his schedule he had rearranged so he could make sure that particular night he would spend with you. Just you and him. Since the very next day, also known as his birthday, he would have to go to rehearsal for BTS’ presentation on the 31th like every other year, he was looking forward the most to this night. He had it all planned out. Your flight would arrive at 8pm, he would pick you up and then the two of you would have dinner together back at your —now— shared place. You would wait up until midnight, have some cake afterwards, and then stay up late so you could, well, catch up on a few coupley things you had been missing out on for a good while now. After all, you had not seen each other in nearly five months.

It was funny, how he used to always say he would never be able to do long distance relationships when he was younger, yet here he was now, four years —and going strong— into one. It was hard as hell, he could not deny it, but he wouldn’t have had it any other way, not as long as he got to be with you in the end. And at the end of the day it was all worth it, for you had finally graduated uni back home, managed to find a job in Seoul, and were now moving in with him like the two of you had agreed on a long time ago, once you realised you were most definitely sticking together for as long as your lives allowed you to. So, even if he had to wait a little longer to see you, this time it was different, for you had only gotten a one way ticket, and he would never again have to drop you off at the airport and cling on to you like his life depended on it, somehow being harder for him to let go of you as the years went by.

Nevertheless, it sucked. Right then, it really fucking sucked. Five months had gone by without seeing you already and turns out he would now have to wait one or even two more days than planned? Bullshit. And that if he was being optimistic, because he swore to God he would lose his shit if you had to spend New Years Eve on a plane, alone. Not like you were spending it together to begin with either, since he had that thing to attend to, but you would at least have a good time with some of the friends you had made during the time you had stayed in Seoul for your uni’s exchange program, and who had now invited you over to a party you had oh-so-excitedly told him about.

That night, Taehyung went to bed late. Still wanting to believe with everything in him you were just pulling a prank on him like you loved to do every now and then, and that you would walk through the front door anytime with that tired face of yours after the long ass flights to Korea he was so used to by then — the same exhausted face that would light up as a bright smile took over your factions instead at the sight of him.

However, that night, you did not make it home. What you did make it to instead, was to be the first one to congratulate him on his day. Over the phone, yes, with the airport’s background noise and not in person like he had wanted to, yet there you were being once again the first one to do so, at exactly 00:00. And somehow, that alone was enough to make him happy before going to sleep. Not as happy as he would’ve been with getting to sleep with you in his arms, of course, but happy nevertheless.

He did not lose faith, though. The next morning, as he got ready to head out to rehearsal, he kept glancing at his apartment’s door over and over, still waiting for it to burst open anytime and for you to walk inside right after.

When that didn’t happen, he looked forward to the moment his members brought him his birthday cake as they waited in the dressing rooms for their turn to rehearse. Now, the guys hadn’t told him they were bringing him cake, but after all these years it was pretty much a given. And it would only make sense that you were there, right? Whether it was bringing the cake to him as everyone in the room sang the traditional birthday song to him, or showing up as a surprise right after.

Once that didn’t happen either, he couldn’t hide his disappointment anymore — still being grateful to everyone else for trying to make his special day a memorable one, yet not being able to fully enjoy it without you there. Even falling in the cliché of wishing for you to be there as he blew out the candles. That was truly all he wanted, after all.

And once his schedule for the day was finally cleared up, his last hope was walking into the apartment that night and seeing you already there waiting for him.

Again, that didn’t happen.

Biting the inside of his cheek as he walked into an empty apartment, although Yeontan was there to excitedly welcome him back home and had managed to bring a weak smile to his face, he couldn’t help but feel his eyes well up with tears. Telling himself over and over how stupid it was to be upset over something neither of you could control, he contemplated calling you for a few seconds, shaking that thought off with a tilt of his head and deciding to go take a hot shower instead. No matter how bad he wanted to, if he did call you, he knew for sure he would end up being even more upset than he already was, and then you would end up being upset as well, and that he did not want.

Not even bothering on drying his hair later that night, he changed into his pyjamas and called Tan to go keep him some company like it was usual by then. Watching the fluffy dog make himself comfortable on the mattress, Taehyung turned the lights off so he could get into bed for once and for all — wanting nothing but to sleep that day off so you would hopefully be there by the morning. Although it would no longer be his birthday, he wished he could at least get to spend some time together before he had to head out once again.

Before he could completely doze off, however, he felt Yeontan snap up from his sleep and effusively wave his tail from side to side as he ran to the closed door of the bedroom. Letting out a tired groan, Taehyung glanced over at the clock on his nightstand, staring at the number ten on it for a second before he turned the lamp on and fixed his eyes on his excited pup.

“I already fed you,” his voice came out hoarse at the lack of speaking, catching Tan’s attention for a second there before he was back at barking at the door. “Don’t tell me you want to go to the b—”

That’s when the sound of a key making it inside the front door’s lock caught his attention. And, you see, only two people had a key to the apartment. One was his, of course, and the other one, much to his excitement right then, was yours.

Not even having time to catch his breath, he jumped off the bed and opened the bedroom’s door, watching Yeontan sprint down the already illuminated hallway as you had just turned its lights on — a huge smile parting his lips at the sight of you, not being able to hold back a giggle of his at the way you had panicked and closed the door harder than you had intended to, so Tan wouldn’t be able to run out of the apartment.

“Tan-ie bean!” you excitedly greeted the pup first thing as he reached your side.

Struggling to move past your suitcase, you managed to kneel down to pet the cute ball off fluff with one hand as you held the other one as far up as you could, holding a strawberry cupcake with a single candle on it that you had already lit up right before coming in — maybe not your brightest of ideas.

Staring up at your boyfriend, who was still on the other end of the hallway, you smiled brightly and stood up straight as he came closer. “Happ—”

Before you could even finish what you had initially planned to sing and had by then settled for cheerfully chanting instead, Taehyung had already pulled you into his arms — unintentionally blowing out the candle as he had rushed over to you way faster than he’d like to admit.

“I missed you” he mumbled, wrapping his arms tighter around your figure and burying his face in the crook of your neck as he felt his heart at ease.

You smiled sweetly, wrapping your arms around him as well —being careful enough not to stain his designer pyjamas with the cupcake’s icing— and pressing down a small kiss to his shoulder.

“I missed you, too” you cooed, hearing him giggle when you planted a kiss on his neck this time.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were getting on a plane already?”

“Because I thought I would get here before you came back from rehearsal and I’d surprise you. You know, wait for you with dinner and whatnot…” you pouted. “But then of course I had trouble with my luggage and got here way too late. So I got you a cupcake and a candle instead!”

Taehyung giggled at the way you had ever so cheerfully said that last part, pulling slightly away from your body so he could glance at the cupcake in your hand you had just raised up in a victorious way.

“You could’ve just showed up barehanded, said ‘happy birthday’, and I would’ve been the happiest”.

“You interrupted me when I was about to tell you ‘happy birthday’, though” you huffed over dramatically.

Letting out a light laugh, he securely cupped your face in his warm hands and rested his forehead on yours, smiling blissfully as ever at how close he was able to have you right then, at how he was able to feel your warmness in his hands after all those months. “You can say it again now”.

“But you already blew out the candle” you pouted, bringing the treat closer to him so he could see your point.

“I guess this is the moment my wish comes true then”.

“You didn’t even get to make a wish, you idiot” you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, I did” he nodded his head determinedly. “Earlier today. And not to brag about it, but it already became true”.

“Was it perhaps for me to arrive today?” you coyly batted your eyelashes, earning a very visible roll of eyes from him.

“Cocky, aren’t we?”

“I mean,” you shrugged, taking a step back from him and his hold. “I can always go back home and send your actual wish ov—”

“Yah,” he stopped you as you dramatically turned around to pretend to leave and Yeontan followed right after, pulling you back to him by your wrist. “I didn’t spend pretty much my entire birthday wishing for you to get here so you can leave me just like that” his eyes turned softer, yet still held that playful vibe in them. “Besides,” he pulled you closer, this time by your waist. “Funny how you said ‘go back home’ when this is your home now, baby” your heart skipped a beat at his remark, appreciating the way he looked up and puckered his lips as he pretended to fall deep in thought. “Hm… Maybe I misheard”.

You giggled at the way he had copied your overdramatic ways, bringing your free hand up to sweetly caress his cheek. “My bad, love”.

Taehyung smiled, with that boxy smile you fell in love with years ago, and nodded softly to let you know it was alright. “Can I get my birthday kiss now?” he murmured, ever so faintly brushing his longing lips against yours. “I’m kinda dying over here”.

Shaking your head in amusement as you laughed, you bit your lower lip. “Just kiss me already, you dork”.

So he did, not even dreaming of wasting another second before his lips hungrily crashed against yours. He had missed you like crazy, he always did, but right then, as your soft lips were pressing on his and your hand made its way from his cheek to the back of his head, entangling your fingers in his still damp hair, he realised just how bad he had craved your touch, how bad he had craved you.

Having him deepen the kiss, you couldn’t help but take one step back as you had lost your balance — his hand being quick to bring your body right back to press against his, later resting on your lower back to keep you steady as his other hand firmly cupped your cheek.

“Happy birthday” you mumbled against his mouth when you had pulled away to catch your breath, feeling the corners of his lips curve up before he pressed them to yours once more.

“It is now” he hummed, drawing tender circles with his thumb on your chin and not being able to hold back a giggle when it was you the one to steal a kiss from his mouth right then.

Your breath hitched when you felt his hands made their way down your body, letting out a squeal when they grabbed your thighs and picked you up without a warning — your arms wrapping tightly around his neck and legs around his waist as his hands were firmly placed on your ass to keep you from slipping down while he walked the two of you out of the hallway and into the living room, having Yeontan run past you two and go lie on the couch.

“Yah, I just got here and you’re already going for second base?” you teased him with raised eyebrows.

Taehyung shook his head, cockily raising one of his own. “I’ve earned my right to all bases a long time ago, I don’t know what you’re talking about”.

“Don’t get too cocky, Kim Taehyung” you warned him as he sat you down on the edge of the counter, being careful enough not to knock down one of the pictures of the two of you that were neatly displaying on it. “I might revoke all your rights”.

“You wouldn’t” he daringly squinted his eyes. “Not on my birthday”.

You threw your head back, letting out a loud laugh and placing the cupcake down on the counter before you went back to his eye level. “Only under two hours until it’s over, so...”

“You wouldn’t” he repeated confidently.

“What makes you so sure, old man?”

Shaking his head in amusement and deciding not to comment on the taunting name you had just called him, he didn’t even try to hide the smirk that was curving up the corners of his lips as he leaned in. “I just know”.

Not even trying to play it hard anymore, you met his lips in the middle, humming contentedly when he placed his hand behind your neck so he could take control over the kiss he was not quite willing to let go of yet. And neither were you, which is why your eyes remained closed and your lips slightly puckered up —clearly wanting more— when he suddenly pulled away one minute later.

“Okay, now tell me my birthday present!” he demanded.

Still being too stunned by the intoxicating kiss he had just given you, it took you a second to open your eyes after hearing his muffled yet excited words against your lips — eyes locking with his excited ones as his hands unconsciously rested on your thighs.

“Oh, it’s in my bag!” you jumped up once you managed to understand what he had meant. “Let me go get it”.

Although your words were meant for him to move aside so you could get up on your feet and rush over to the forgotten suitcase on the hallway, Taehyung did not move an inch — if anything, tightening the hold of his hands on your thighs to keep you from going anywhere.

“Not that one”.

Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “The cupcake?” you offered, earning a light laugh from him, along with a small shake of his head. “Sex? Because I know I was just threatening with revoking that right, but since it’s still your birthday, I mean...”

Taehyung laughed wholeheartedly, once again shaking his head no as he brought his face closer to yours. “Although I would love that and will take you up on that offer later,” his bold words managed to bring some heat to your cheeks. “That is not what I meant”.

“What did you mean then?”

“Just want you to tell me something...” he hinted, gently caressing your sides. “How long will you be staying, baby?”

You rolled your eyes when it finally hit you what he had meant all along. And you couldn’t help but laugh lightly at how such simple things were the ones that made him the happiest. “Well, considering I only got a one way ticket over here this time,” your heart sped up at the way his smile grew wider at the sound of that. “And that the rest of my stuff will arrive here in a few days… I’d say I’m staying for quite a long, long time”.

“How about forever?” he smiled brightly.

You giggled, tilting your head up in anticipation as you felt him lean in to press his mouth on yours. “I like the sound of that”.

“I love the sound of that” he agreed, pressing another kiss to your smiling lips.

And you truly did, for although you were leaving everything behind, your family, your childhood friends, your culture... it was easy as long as you had him. And even though you knew there would be times homesickness would hit you like a truck, especially when the time came and Taehyung would have to go on tour with his group, you were ready to start your new life here with him. You had already lived here once for a year, after all, the only difference being you now got to live with your long term boyfriend, and, of course, that you wouldn’t have to count down the days until you had to go back home and away from him anymore.

“Everything alright?” he wondered, catching up on the way you had momentarily spaced out.

“Mhm…” you were quick to reassure him with an eager nod of your head. “Now eat your birthday treat before I do” you threatened, grabbing the cupcake that had been lying next to you all along and bringing it up to his face.

Taehyung chuckled, pressing a lingering kiss to your neck that was sweetly followed by another one. “But I have my birthday treat right here…”

Although flustered by both his words and the way his lips kept peppering soft kisses all over the sensitive skin of your neck, you stood your ground. “Pretty sure I’m your girlfriend, but oh well”.

He chuckled once more — before you could react, dipping one of his long fingers on the icing and spreading a good amount of it on your lips. “Now you’re both”.

You didn’t really get to fully laugh at his playful antics before the sound of it was muffled by his mouth sucking on your bottom lip, his fingers holding onto your chin to keep you from pulling away as he deepened the kiss — making sure to remove every last trace of icing on your mouth before he slid his tongue into it.

Breaking the kiss for a brief second for what he thought was to catch your breath before bringing your already swollen lips back to his awaiting ones, he found himself letting his jaw drop when you opened your mouth not to kiss him once more, but to bring the infamous cupcake up to it and loudly bite down on it.

“Yah, that is my strawberry cupcake!” he called you out — although trying to act mad, having a hard time hiding his smile at the way you had just covered your full mouth as you laughed whilst trying to chew right then.

“You weren’t eating it, so…” you shrugged.

Before you could take another bite, however, he grabbed your wrist, quickly moving it up to his mouth instead and shoving the entire baked good into it in just one go.

Petrified after what just happened, you stared at your now empty hand — amazed by the way he had managed not to bite into your fingers with how fast and forceful his mouth had been, before your eyes fixed on your full-mouthed boyfriend as he struggled to chew the whole thing down.

“Mine” he stated, not minding to cover his mouth as he was almost done with it already.

“I tend to forget how big your mouth actually is” you admitted, mindlessly sucking the remains of icing from off your fingers.

Taehyung scoffed, rushing to swallow down so he could properly speak. “You out of all people should know what my mouth can d—”

“You know,” you cut him off before he could pronounce that last letter and bring his cocky point across. “Booking a return plane ticket sounds really tempting right now”.

“Oh, yeah?” he tauntingly raised one of his eyebrows, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter and making you wrap your legs around his waist. “Good thing from now on those return tickets will bring you right back to Seoul”.

That was what made him the happiest. After all those years of buying ticket after ticket, all those years of having to drop you off at the airport so you could go back home, all those years of having to wait for endless months just so you could see each other for a few days, all of that, was over now.

From that night on, this was your home. You, him and Yeontan, and of course, the eventual additions that would be made in a couple of years.

And that was the best part. No matter where you travelled to from now on, you would always just go visit abroad and return right here, back to him — never again being almost about to miss his birthday, for you would both go to sleep and wake up right next to him during all the upcoming ones, just like he had ached you to do every single day ever since you got together four years ago.

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teawithkpop · 3 years

Text

[M] - PhysCom - Pt 7

pt 1 - pt 2 - pt 3 - bc 1 - pt 4 - pt 5 - pt 6 - pt 7

Pairing: BTS - OT7 x Reader

Rating: Mature [18+]

Length: 5.4k words

Genre: PhysCom AU - smut with dashes of angst, and a shitload of romance and complicated feelings,, uhuhu (porn with plot??)

Warnings: swearing, a lot of emotional turmoil, talk of pregnancy scares (birth control, contraceptives, etc.), implied discrimination towards sex workers (not by any of the boys dw), mentions of sexual acts

slowly hands you a cake that says "I haven't updated this fic in 14 months and I don't know when the next part is coming but here's an update thanks for being patient" in comic sans

-------

The rush to the hospital goes by in a blur of tears and shouting and panic and questions that you can't bring yourself to answer. The only constant is Min Yoongi's hand, firmly locked in your own throughout the ordeal, tethering you to reality.

You now sit in a private room on a sterile medical table and wait to be seen, too numb inside to feel the sting of the cold metal as it cuts into the backs of your thighs. Yoongi stands beside you, still holding your hand, his fingers are laced through yours and squeezing as if it could sap away the fear that eats away your insides, leaving you hollow and empty.

"It'll be alright. Don't worry about a damn thing, okay?" He shifts his weight anxiously, betraying his own underlying worries.

You barely remember him throwing his jacket over you before being rushed out of the house, and you don't feel deserving of the modest coverage. Though the leather is worn and soft against your skin, all you can feel is the harsh metallic zipper, scratching at your chest as though reminding you of your wrongdoings.

"Yoongi…" you start to say, but he cuts you off, his voice a hoarse whisper.

"Don't you fucking dare. Don't apologize."

You feel tears well up in your eyes. Your chest grows tight with the words he's forbidden you to say.

"I've already called Namjoon, it'll all be fine. Don't worry." He works his jaw and rubs your hand with surprising tenderness, glancing to the little window in the door every other second.

He's been assuring you with those same words for the past half hour, but it feels like it's been an eternity. As you glance at the clock on the wall, watching the hands tick by, you imagine a scene like that of a health documentary. Tiny sperm, swimming up your insides… fertilizing your previously dormant eggs.

Fuck. You've fucked up.

You might be pregnant with Min Yoongi's child. Your Opticon birth control implant could send you into toxic shock at any moment.

You don't see how things can get much worse than this.

The door finally opens, and what appears to be a nurse steps inside. She holds a clipboard, and examines it while she lets the door close behind her. "Let's see now, Miss..." Her shoulders slump marginally as her eyes reach your name. "Oh, right. The PhysCom."

You don't have the energy to ignore the change in her tone from friendly to disinterested, and simply nod. However, you feel Yoongi stiffen beside you.

The nurse lets out a brief sigh and dons a professional expression. "So, what appears to be the problem?" She directs the question to Yoongi.

"We think her birth control implant isn't working." Yoongi explains, his eyes darting furtively between you and the nurse. "She, um… she reached orgasm."

You flush at the memory, ashamed of your failure to adhere to even the most basic of rules set before you.

The nurse makes a noncommittal noise and jots something down. "Says here it’s an Opticon. And you didn't turn it off, sir?"

He shakes his head.

The nurse touches the end of her pen to her mouth, a note of sympathy forming in her eyes. Not for you, but for Yoongi. "How long have you had her?"

"Excuse me?" Yoongi raises an eyebrow.

The nurse tucks the clipboard under her arm, giving him a weary, patient smile. “With PhysComs, we have a list of probable scenarios we’re supposed to check for, to better inform the doctor of the situation, and speed along the treatment process.”

She barely spares you a glance before returning her attention to Yoongi, her voice lowered just a fraction. “It’s not uncommon for newly hired female PhysComs to try and… well, intentionally get pregnant from their clients. Especially if those clients have any amount of wealth or status.”

Yoongi seems lost for words.

She nods as if to agree with his surprise. “It’s some psychosis associated with the job,” she says with a shrug, then straightens her posture once more. “So has she been acting strangely at all? What are her symptoms?”

Your ears burn a bit at being talked about like you’re not in the room, but this isn’t the first time you’ve been in such a position. Oftentimes checkups during training were the same way, the physicians would speak exclusively among themselves and Madame while they examined every inch of you, inside and out.

Yoongi, however, is not used to such an experience.

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?” He says, in a voice much calmer than you would have expected. But one glance at his face tells you all you need to know. His eyes are burning like hot coals. Molten and dangerous.

The nurse doesn’t pick up on his irritation, and busily flips through the pages on her clipboard. “I need reliable information, sir. If you please,” she prompts him.

You can feel Yoongi’s hand clench around yours, and you turn to quiet him.

“It’s okay,” you murmur, hoping to reassure him enough so he’ll talk to her, but he stands his ground, his eyes glued on the nurse.

“Get out,” Yoongi says.

The nurse does a double take. “Excuse me, sir?”

“I said get the fuck out of here.” He points to the door. “Send us someone who will actually help.”

She fumes silently for a moment, but decides not to argue with him, and heads for the door in a huff.

Yoongi scoffs as you two are left alone once more. “What the fuck kind of bedside manner was that supposed to be?” He mutters, staring at the door.

“It’s okay.” You place a hand on his arm.

“No, it’s not.” He’s adamant, and you sigh wearily. How do you explain that this is only what can be expected?

You pick out a few haphazard words from the maelstrom in your brain, too tired to find the best phrasing. “Medical personnel… they don’t really get it.”

“Get what?” He asks, turning to you in outrage. “Being a fucking decent human being?”

You flinch, withdrawing your hand. You’re too tired to try and get your point across. But he notices you wilt and immediately comes closer, lowering his voice and placing both his hands on your arms. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, the edge of anger fading away to gentleness. Kindness. “What do you mean?”

You sigh, looking off to the side. You don’t deserve to have him look at you like that.

You carefully remove his hands, trying to maintain some semblance of a professional distance, even in the face of disaster. “Most hospitals don’t look favorably at PhysComs. We were given a few lectures about it in training. We use up their resources and time that could instead be given to patients who didn’t willingly put themselves at risk.”

You remember how your fellow trainees had reacted after those discussions. Many of them found the treatment to be unfair, but you yourself felt that, in a way, the medical field’s viewpoint was reasonable. Your choices are what landed you here.

“What the- what are you talking about?” He huffs, still seemingly in the dark. “You didn’t ask for this… this scare. It wasn’t your fault.” He tries to meet your eyes, but your gaze is fixed firmly to the linoleum floor.

A mirthless smile paints your lips. “But I chose this life. And these risks along with it.”

Before he can question you further, the door bursts open and Kim Namjoon enters the room, both his dress shirt and his hair are rumpled, and his eyes are frantic. “Sweetheart?” He rushes to your side and crushes you in a hug. “Are you alright?”

You hear Yoongi let out a breath of relief. “She’s okay, for the moment.”

Something about the way Namjoon holds you feels like a lamp being held against your cold skin. You’re too damp inside to light a flame yourself, but his own body warms you from the outside in the meantime. You want to let yourself enjoy it, but the memory of your unresolved questions leaves you limp in his arms, filled with nothing but misery and confusion.

He pulls back after a moment, checking you over for signs of injury. His eyes are wide with concern. “What happened? Tell me everything.”

A flare of shame rises up in you at the notion of telling Namjoon about your rule-breaking and everything that occured since this morning.

Thankfully, Yoongi seems to sense your hesitance, and he fills in most of the pieces for Namjoon. Namjoon’s expression remains stoic as Yoongi recounts what happened - you being brought home unconcious, seducing Yoongi - up until the mention of your orgasm. Namjoon’s jaw slackens slightly at this, and his eyes scan your face, searching for something.

It’s at this moment that the doctor walks in, a different nurse at his side. He’s a slightly older man, a few wrinkles creasing his brow, and a smile that appears kind until it lands on you. His face is then tinged with that same indifference that most medical professionals give you.

You wish it was your usual physician, but since this was an emergency, you didn’t have time to take the trip to your usual practice. Whatever hospital is nearest, that’s what Yoongi had told the driver.

The man turns to Namjoon, who arguably commands more presence than Yoongi, and the kindness returns. “Sorry for the delay. Busy night. From what I understand, your PhysCom has malfunctioned, is that correct?”

“Her Opticon malfunctioned, yes.” Namjoon corrects him. His diplomatic tendencies are a blessing right now. You just want to know if you’re pregnant or not. You want to know if you’re losing your job. You want to go home.

The doctor runs a few physical tests on you, feeling your breasts, peering down your throat, and examining your vaginal canal, checking for any other symptoms of malfunction from your Opticon. “All’s well so far.” He says, pulling his forefingers out of you, snapping off his gloves, and disposing of them. “May I take a look at the ComGear?”

You feel a flash of panic, waking you out of your stupor. Fuck, was it still in the group chat? You pull out the slim device, heart hammering as you check. Nope. Just settings. Thank god.

You hand it over, and then remember with a looming feeling of dread exactly why it might have been left on the settings page...

“You do so much for us, jagiya.” Taehyung keeps his hands braced on your arms, his thumb rubbing gently against your skin. “You’re always there for us. Always giving… Now it’s time for you to receive.”

“I’m sorry! It’s my fault-” Jimin’s eyes fall to your compromising position, Yoongi’s dick still out, your leaking core exposed, and claps a hand over his mouth. He looks like he might cry. “Oh no...”

The pieces fall into place, and there’s no doubt in your mind. They must have switched it off.

But why? Why, why, why…?

The doctor - you’re too frazzled to read his nametag - pulls out a pair of reading glasses and takes a look at your ComGear, poking around the device with his pointer finger. “Hm. Strange.” He squints. “The Opticon does appear to be switched off.”

Namjoon blinks. “That’s impossible.”

“I’m afraid that’s the case.” The doctor shows him the setting, the toggle very much in the off position. Namjoon takes the device and looks at it in shock.

The doctor coughs. “I know that, um… for some individuals, the temptation and the… risk associated with no protection during intercourse can be sexually arousing. It’s not the first time we’ve gotten a case like this.”

He removes his glasses, folding them back into his pocket. “However, I would remind you and anyone else who uses this one’s services that although Physical Companions may be virtually expendable, it can become quite expensive for your own sake to impregnate them on a whim, using and discarding them, what with the standard fees for breaching their contract and-”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Namjoon interrupts him, and you notice the iron grip he now has on Yoongi’s arm. Likely the only thing restraining him from throwing a punch. “We’ll be more careful.” Namjoon glances at you, confusion making a little crease between his brows. “Is there some sort of morning after pill she can take, or…?”

“I’m afraid the lingering effects of the Opticon implant render any outside hormone blockers ineffective.” The doctor says, his smile turning thin. “It’s a bit of a blessing and a curse. The hormone production and ovulation suppressant in the Opticon normally make the chance of fertilization zero percent while in use. After it’s switched off, chances are still fairly low at 30 percent, for up to 24 hours. But the chances of fertilization after taking a morning after pill are significantly lower than that, at only five percent.”

He shrugs. “We’ll just have to wait and see. Chances are, your PhysCom will be right as rain and ready to pleasure clients again in about a week.”

A week.

First a week of suspension on Namjoon’s terms… Now it’s on medical advisement.

“A week? What should we do until then?” Namjoon voices your very thoughts, Yoongi seething silently beside him.

“Well, we won’t have any results until three to five days from now.” The man clarifies. “But I highly recommend you leave the implant switched off and keep her on traditional contraceptives until we know for sure. I strongly recommend utilizing other PhysComs in the meantime, just to be safe.”

You’re finished.

The doctor hands Namjoon a paper bag, most likely containing birth control pills and condoms. “She may be somewhat volatile for the next few days. You can bring her in for another checkup in a week.”

You’re weak.

“Thank you.”

You’re numb.

-------

It was a silent car ride back to the house, and as Namjoon helps you step out of the vehicle, one hand holding yours for stability while the other rests on your lower back, you can’t help feeling utterly useless. Detached from your surroundings.

What’s the point of any of this now? There’s no way they’ll want to use you until this is resolved. You’re of no use to them as a sex toy until at least a week from now, and by then it’ll be far too late to earn their favor back.

“We need to have a meeting. Call the others into the living room.” Namjoon speaks to Yoongi in an undertone, and you feel a small ache of hope. Maybe things will work out if everyone just talks to each other.

But when you enter the house and Namjoon begins to steer you upstairs, you finally find your voice.

“No.” You resist against him, turning around at the base of the stairs. “No, I want to be part of the meeting.”

The surprise quickly fades from his face, instead turning to concern. “You need to rest."

Something about the look on his face, about being told yet again through his actions that this doesn’t concern you, it causes something inside you to snap, your apathy vanishing in the wake of this new beast beginning to rear its ugly head within you.

Your throat closes up and a scream erupts from your aching chest. "You don't know what I need!"

Namjoon matches your desperation with an infuriatingly patient look of sympathy. He approaches you, his hand outstretched, but you stagger back away from him. He smiles sadly and drops his hand. "Stay here. It's what's best for you."

What's best for you.

The words throb in your mind, like the memory of an old wound. They bounce listlessly off the walls of your grandiose prison long after Namjoon shuts the door, sealing you away again.

You don't know what comes over you as you see visions of launching yourself at the door, pounding and scratching at the wood like a wild animal.

You could just open the door and follow him downstairs. Some part of you does register that.

But you want them to hear you. You want them to hear you rip your throat raw as you exorcise your demons.

You blink and you're standing still.

You haven't moved.

Your spacious room feels stifling. Like the walls are closing in on you, suffocating you.

Silken ropes sway in the dusk, catching your eye from beyond the balcony window. Your escape route from earlier that day.

You don't think twice before stuffing a few meager belongings into the long forgotten backpack kicked beneath your bed.

You need to leave this place.

You can't stay here.

-------

It had started drizzling not long after you left the house, and even now as you sit on the damp curbside, waiting for the next bus to take you far away from this place, it strikes you as funny, in a way, that the weather is crying for you, since you can't muster any tears of your own.

It's cold and misty, a foreboding atmosphere, by all accounts. It makes you question if what you're about to do is the right call.

But you shut down the arguments in your head as quickly as they appear.

Second guessing was what had gotten you into this situation. You need to follow your instincts.

And your instincts are telling you to flee.

It won't be so bad, you try to convince yourself. After the first night on the road, you'll eventually find a new town, a new home, a new place for yourself in this fucked up world. You've done it before, you can do it again.

You're considering suitable aliases for your new persona, when you sense another person approaching, their shoes tramping through the wet grass.

You don't look up at them, hoping they'll pass by and leave you alone. But they come to a stop beside you.

You keep your gaze on the road, droplets rippling the puddled potholes.

Then the stranger goes to sit on the curb too, and you can't help but look at them.

You'd recognize those lips anywhere, even beneath a baggy hooded sweatshirt.

"It's a bit late to run errands, don't you think?" Seokjin says, pulling his sleeves down to keep out the chill as he perches beside you.

He glances at you, then looks ahead at the road, the same way you were. You return your gaze forward, too exhausted to make a run for it. Though you don't get the sense that he would chase after you, even if you tried to escape.

Maybe that's exactly why you decide to stay put, but you don't give the suspicion any more thought.

"What do you want?" You finally ask, your voice croaky from being silent for so long.

"Nothing."

"Liar," you mutter, hugging your knees to your chest. "Everyone wants something."

He chuckles. Rests back on his hands. "I guess you're right about that."

Damn right you are. You didn't study the human condition through your years of training to be fooled so easily by pretty words.

"So?" You prompt him, still staring at the dreary horizon.

He takes a moment to respond. The silence is punctuated by the distant noises of traffic, an occasional car passing by, its headlights shimmering in the mist before disappearing down the road.

“The others are all out looking for you, you know,” he says simply. “Why do you think that is?”

If it were anyone else that had run away - their manager, a friend - you know what the answer would be. Because they care about that person. But how can you believe that about yourself, when you know you can never amount to anyone with that level of importance to them?

Ironic, since you’re the person with which they can be most intimate and vulnerable.

“I’m a liability,” you reply halfheartedly.

His silence serves to confirm your suspicions. A runaway PhysCom? Far too risky for a group at their level. You could become one of those anonymous sources like you saw in the news. A firsthand account of the BTS members’ secret sexual urges. Unacceptable. Snatches of words from the NDA you signed buzz around the edges of your mind like stray flies.

But since you're no longer connected to your network, then your tracker is probably disconnected. If the bus had come just a little earlier, you might already have escaped without a trace.

“You really think that’s the only reason?” Seokjin’s voice pulls you back to the moment.

His abysmal attempt to divert from the problem gets a hollow laugh out of you.

“Any other reason has ulterior motives. It’s just business.” You check the time on your ComGear. The bus should be here any minute. “I’m leaving, and I won’t let you stop me.”

“I don’t intend to,” he agrees, to your surprise. “God knows you’ve been put through enough.” He then leans forward, resting his forearms across his legs. “But for what it’s worth, you deserve to know the truth.”

Your ears perk up at this.

Seokjin seems to take your silence as permission to continue. “The reason we decided to suspend you. It wasn’t… entirely selfless.”

You purse your lips in irritation and fix your gaze upon the horizon, settling your chin beneath your crossed arms. “Right. Ulterior motives, like I said.”

He clicks his tongue. “Touche.”

You wait for him to continue, but he doesn't.

Your curiosity gets the better of you.

“So, what… were you planning to replace me?” You ask, trying to sound contemptuous. “I heard you all having your little group meeting in the kitchen. There are plenty of shiny new whores at your disposal, take your pick.”

He still makes no noise.

You wait, preparing to accept a bitter confirmation of all your fears.

But then he finds his voice. “We could never replace you, dear.”

You stop. Look over at him. His eyes are half lidded, his smile bittersweet as he stares off into the distance. After a few moments, he fishes around in his pocket and pulls something out, then hands it to you.

His smartphone.

“Here,” he murmurs, sympathy in the quirk of his lips. “In case you need to call anyone. Those devices they give you don’t have a cell plan, I assume.”

He seems to sense your wariness, and waves the phone a bit in a gesture of insistence. “I can buy a dozen new ones. It’s no trouble.”

You very hesitantly take it. “Thanks.”

Of course, he has no way to know that your ComGear is now jailbroken, for all intents and purposes. But… is this a trap? What if there’s a tracker in the phone? But why would he need to put a tracker in it if he doesn’t know your ComGear is off the grid?

The rumble of an approaching motor pulls you out of your cyclical thoughts, and you get on your feet, slowly coming out of your dissociative sulk.

But you still feel numb. Nothing matters anymore.

Nothing at all.

Jin gets up along with you, slipping his hands into his hoodie pocket. “Stay safe, alright?”

You give a brief nod of acknowledgment, only half in his direction as you shrug your bag onto your shoulder more securely. The hydraulics of the bus screech as the vehicle comes to a stop and lowers slightly, allowing you to step onboard.

You glance back, fully expecting Jin to stop you. But he doesn’t. He blinks raindrops out of his eyes while you board, and gives you a small smile once the doors close behind you. He lifts a hand in farewell, then turns and starts to walk away down the street.

He’s really letting you go.

You pay your fare and find a seat towards the back of the nearly empty bus. Rain pelts at the windows, picking up in earnest, and it feels like yet another layer, another barrier, separating yourself and creating an ever-growing chasm from the life you knew up until yesterday.

You pull out Jin’s phone, staring at the dark screen and wiping away stray raindrops from the surface with your sleeve. Why had he come to find you, if not to stop you?

“But for what it’s worth, you deserve to know the truth.”

Maybe he felt guilty. Or remorseful for the hell you’ve been put through recently. You would normally have felt immense satisfaction at such a thought.

But you can’t feel much of anything right now.

You don’t think you’ll be able to feel properly again. At least not for a long, long time…

Hm? The screen lit up. You must have pressed a button by accident. You swipe at it again, and to your surprise it unlocks. Who doesn’t put a passcode on their phone?

Is it possible… he disabled it before he gave it to you? Maybe. Whatever. You’re so tired of thinking, playing investigator and second guessing people’s motivations.

You scroll over to the phone icon, and tap on it, briefly considering calling your parents. But the wetness on your fingers messes with the touchscreen and you open the messages app instead.

You’re about to wipe the screen and try again, but… the most recent messages are… all about you. You tap on the group chat among the seven of them, currently bustling with activity.

[ Kim Namjoon ]: has anyone found her [ Park Jimin ]: hyung I’m so sorry [ Park Jimin ]: it’s all my fault [ Min Yoongi ]: she’s not at the studio [ Kim Namjoon ]: we’ll talk about it later Jimin [ Kim Namjoon ]: everyone keep looking [Jeon Jungkook]: manager said they can call her network to track her down [Kim Taehyung ]: should we do that? [ Jung Hoseok ]: no! she could get in trouble :( [ Min Yoongi ]: she’s not a stray pet [ Kim Namjoon ]: exactly [ Kim Namjoon ]: we need to keep this quiet for her sake [Kim Taehyung ]: she hasn’t replied to my texts or calls [ Min Yoongi ]: me neither [Jeon Jungkook]: hyung... will she be okay? [ Kim Namjoon ]: everything will be fine don’t worry [ Kim Namjoon ]: we’re going to fix this somehow [ Min Yoongi ]: whatever it takes [ Jung Hoseok ]: where could she have gone... [ Park Jimin ]: what if she doesn’t come back?

You scroll further up, past days and weeks and months of texts between them… not even a day between mentions of you. Wondering if you’re alright. Hoping you’ve eaten enough. Wanting to do more with you.

The thread of texts Jimin sent to Seokjin just yesterday.

Hyung I wish things were different I want to hold her I want to tell her she’s enough I wish I could kiss her… I think I love her Do you ever feel that way?

And Seokjin’s reply.

I do I know just what you mean Why do you think I turned those secondaries away last night, hm? No one can compare She really is special…

He didn’t… fuck the secondaries? After you broke at dinner, he… didn’t...?

You switch to his thread with Namjoon from a few days ago.

I know you’re our leader but I don’t think this is the way to go You need to be more cautious

Namjoon’s reply.

What we need is action, hyung If we work together on this, we could get rid of these unnecessary rules We could all have what we want Including her It’s what’s best for everyone

Seokjin took several minutes to reply.

You’re going to lose her.

Jin knew. He tried to talk Namjoon out of writing that stupid essay, or maybe it was about your suspension.

Either way, he defended you.

You open his thread with Hoseok. Dimly, you recognize that you shouldn’t be snooping, but you’re too absorbed to stop.

Hyung, I think she really wants this All of us ♡ I don’t know how, but we need to show her that it’s okay That we want it just as much

How do you know that’s what she wants?

I can’t say ♡ But I know now She wouldn’t reject us Our feelings She feels something too

The date and time lines up with this morning. The morning after he made love to you.

He didn’t tell them. He kept your secret.

“Our feelings”? What does he mean? Him, Jimin, Taehyung… Seokjin? Do they all…?

Your head spins, the hollowness of your heart filling with a rush of jumbled emotions, like a tide crashing in. All your numbness is washed out with light, just a pinprick at first, that grows rapidly into a ray of warmth as you consider what all this could mean. The chasm starts to narrow, and you get the urge to jump ship, to turn back and figure this shit out. To know once and for all what they want from you. What you mean to them.

But how can you trust this isn’t a trap? How can you be sure?

The answer is as simple as they come.

You can’t.

You can’t be absolutely certain that their intentions are pure… that this is the right thing to do… that you won’t be hurt again.

But maybe... trust isn’t about being infallible. Being right. Being sure.

Maybe it’s built on what ifs. On trying again, even with no guarantees.

Guarantees are only as good as their word, and talk is cheap. Lies are easy. Your Opticon had a 100% guarantee, and look where that got you.

But you remember the way Hoseok held you that night, and made love to you like you’ve never felt in your life... When Jimin kissed his way down your body, with only the best of intentions. Namjoon’s strong arms embracing you when you felt powerless. Yoongi’s hand never leaving yours, even while you waited in the hospital. Jungkook carrying you home after you fainted, breaking your door to make sure you were safe in bed. The look in Taehyung’s eyes when he finally kissed you, breaking the ice you’d been growing around your heart.

How Seokjin let you go.

Maybe...

You get up with a start, rush to the front of the bus, and hastily ask the driver to let you off, much to the old man’s disgruntlement, but the moment the doors whoosh open, you take off at a run.

You want to go home.

You want to try again.

No matter how much you try to bury it, to forget the way they make you feel, you care about them. All of them. On a much deeper level than that of a PhysCom and client. And it scares you.

But you’re done running from fear. From uncertainty.

Now you’re running towards it willingly, as you give chase down the torrential streets, searching for that familiar hooded figure and hoping you’re not too late. You’re embracing the doubt, the fear, the uncertainty, the paranoia... letting their shadowy claws sink into you until they can’t hurt you anymore. Until they fade away, cowering under the glow of your determination.

You’re setting some new rules for yourself, no longer letting fear control your thoughts and actions, barring you from any chance of happiness.

You see Seokjin in the distance, trudging home through the pouring rain. You run faster.

You’re fucking terrified. But you’ve never felt so free in your life.

“Jin!” You shout to get his attention, still a block away. He turns around, and shakes his head, seemingly confused, but a smile starts to appear. You smile too.

Finally, you catch up to him, and without warning, you throw your arms around his shoulders. Damn, he’s always taller than you remember.

He laughs, shocked by your change of heart. “What are you doing?”

“I want to hear you say it.” You reply, looking up at him as rain dashes down your face. You don’t know when you started crying, but you’re grateful to the weather for masking your tears.

“Say what?” He asks, his hands resting on your waist to support you. Thunder rumbles in the distance, rain sliding down his perfect face.

“How you feel about me.” You reply, studying his eyes. “Be honest.”

He seems to sense the gravity in your words. He holds you closer. His eyes soften.

“I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”

For the first time since all of this started, you sense no deception in his words, no double meaning, no hidden agenda.

Because you aren’t searching for reasons to doubt this time.

You’re searching for reasons to trust, and you find them.

You want to kiss him. So you do.

#bts #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts x reader smut #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts ot7 #bts ot7 smut #bts smut fic #bts fic rec #yoongi x reader #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #thank you all for waiting ;w;

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fighterkimburgess · 3 years

Note

ciara, i don't know if you take requests, but if you can-- if possible, can you PLEASE write a fic where hailey finds out she's pregnant & she's scared to tell jay. like a quick little one shot

…so I’ve basically stopped writing Upstead and am technically not doing requests. But…this is super quick and dirty oops.

—

Hailey stared at the test, shock clear on her features. The plus sign was staring at her, mocking her.

Pregnant.

She’d thought she was just late. She thought it was stress, from Walton and admitting everything to Kim and Adam about what she’d done, that it was stress and release after the wedding. The test was only because she was curious.

Pregnant. It didn’t even take the two minutes to appear. She was having a baby. Jay’s baby. Her husband’s baby. From the night they’d gotten married. That’s the only night it could have been, the night of passion and delight and joy and forgetting consequences.

How could she tell Jay? They hadn’t even had the conversation about kids. She knew he wanted them, knew he wanted to be a dad. But so soon?

Her nerves hit her like a ton of bricks. Jay wasn’t her father. He’d be happy. But how was she supposed to be happy when she didn’t know?

“Hailey? You home?” Jay called, and she jumped, flushing the toilet.

“Yeah, two minutes.”

She went to put the test in the trash, thought twice, and rinsed it off. Once it was dry she put it in her back pocket, waiting to tell him.

“Hey, I opened a beer for us,” Jay murmured, reaching for a hug. The lamps were on, and Hailey wanted to take a gulp of the beer but couldn’t. Baby.

She looked up at him, reaching up for a kiss and enjoying the soft smile on his face.

“I love you, Mrs. Halstead,” Jay murmured, Hailey grinning at his words. She was still Upton in work, but in their personal life she was Halstead and loved it.

“I love you too, Mr. Halstead.” She took a deep breath, preparing to say it. “And Baby Halstead loves you too.”

Jay stopped still, and Hailey watched his jaw drop. He looked like he couldn’t form words, but then the grin she loved showed.

“You…really?”

Hailey pulled the test from her pocket, putting it in Jay’s hand. He stared at the plus sign, mouth gaping as he realised exactly what this meant.

“We’re having a baby?”

“Yeah. We’re having a baby.”

Jay picked her up and spun her around, laughter filling their apartment.

“I love you so much. Hailey this is…everything. I can’t wait.”

The next morning they pulled a personal morning, making it to Med to confirm the pregnancy. Hailey’s belief wasn’t misplaced, the dates lined up with their wedding eight weeks before. They got the scan printed, Hailey Anne Halstead written at the top of the photo.

Walking into work was nerve wracking, the two immediately going into their sergeant’s office and closing the door. Voight looked at them both, an eyebrow raised.

“Yes?”

“Sarge, I need to go on light duty. I’m pregnant.” It was a nod and a smile from the man she used to idolise, but now saw as fallible. But she still cared about him, and his congratulations to both of them meant the world to her.

#cíara answers #cíara writes #Upstead #hailey upton x jay halstead #jay halstead x hailey upton #jay halstead #hailey upton

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lubdubsworld · 3 years

Text

Blackberry Winters.

Part 1

Check part one for warnings 💔

Part 2.

Namjoon stared at his mother, her words registering but not quite sinking in. He blinked, a couple of times and swallowed dryly, trying to gather his wits that felt like they'd been scattered to the four winds. There was a dull ringing in his ear, a feeling of impending horror and he had to fight to bring himself back to the present.

"She is...?" He couldn't even say it. Somewhere in the back of his mind he realised the irony of it. It wasn't supposed to makes him feel that way. The reason he had taken her to bed was for this : a heir to take over the duties of the head alpha after him. And yet, he knew that he couldn't just ignore all the things that would come with having a pregnant mate. All the added responsibility.

At the heart of it , Namjoon was exhausted.

He had been trained for this position but it didn't make it any easier. His wolf yearned for solitude and serenity, peaceful quiet where he could contemplate life and all its mysteries but the duties and responsibilities kept piling up. He had no time to indulge in such whimsical fantasies. From daybreak to sundown, he drowned in problems that demanded solutions, issues that required his intervention and he was always giving so much of himself to so many.

It was as taking a toll.

And now here was the promise of another new soul. A pup. Fully dependant on him for survival. It was hard to be ecstatic.

" Why do you look so surprised? Have you not been sleeping with her?" She frowned, moving closer to the small wooden bench in the corner of the room. She sat down, primly adjusting the large swathes of her skirt. Even at her age, she was a beauty and despite being a widow, she was treated with great respect by all the wolves in the clan.

" I have... Of course...I just didn't expect her to ...so soon. " He muttered hesitantly. He made a quick calculation, Conceived at the end of autumn meant the child would be born at the end of summer. Rains and more rains. He would have to commission the weavers to make a lot of warm blankets and thick bedding for the babe. And make sure that all the birthing huts had their roofs mended. He felt an ache in his chest. He knew he had to have a heir. It was part of what he was responsible for. But he wasn't ready to be a father yet. Especially not with someone like her.

" You haven't been very subtle in your disdain for her, Joon. It makes me wonder of perhaps I have failed in teaching you the ways of a husband." His mother's sharp voice made him wince.

His parents had been deeply in love with each other. His mother had been an equal contributor in running the clan, his father's most trusted confidante. He couldn't imagine having something like that with the woman he had rather recklessly chained himself to for life. But he couldn't be openly defiant in front of his mother.

So he bowed.

" I've tried to talk to her mother. She looks at me like I'm some marauding villain."

Lady Kim scoffed.

" Because, for all she knows, you may as well be one. Think of who she is, how she was raised. Her mother died when she was eight and she has been keeping house for her father since then. It Is a miracle she knows how to read a few words and to write her own name. Old man Gong is unkind and cruel and I've only ever watched him treat her like an unruly dog that needed discipline and never like his own flesh and blood. She knows men to be cruel and powerful and capable of doing her great harm. Add to it your status as the head of the clan, of course she thinks you're dangerous. "

" am I to be blamed for her childhood now?"

" Don't be obtuse. That is not what I'm saying. I just want you to consider her upbringing, before you write her off as dramatic or hysterical. "

Namjoon sighed deeply.

" Alright, mother. I'll try to talk to her again. "

And he knew that he had to. If he wanted some semblance of peace in his life, he would have to make an effort with his wife.

----------------------------

Jiah sat by the haybale near the barn, cross-legged on the dirty floor as she watched Misu and Loshim, two of the stable boys tend to the horses. She stared at the careful way they brushed the large beasts, their tone gentle and soothing as they murmured reassurance to the agitated animals. She found it fascinating, how even an animal that powerful could feel fear and anxiety. It made her feel better about her own shortcomings.

From a very young age, she had known of her flaws. She was jittery, prone to cold sweats and breathing problems, easily frightened and absolutely terrified of confrontation of any kind. Her parents had been, to put it lightly, unkind. They had seen her as a burden, as something broken and useless and cumbersome and that had done nothing for her self esteem.

To make matters worse, they didn't let her attend lessons with the other omega girls, her education limited to scribbled writing on granite with chalk when her father was feeling bored or charitable. She could read a few words with difficulty . Could write her name out if you gave her some time and patience.

At first, her ignorance had been embarassing but over time she realised her education wouldn't serve her much purpose.

She thought of herself as something temporary and fleeting. Not meant to leave any lasting impression on the world. So it was alright if she didn't know what every other girl her age did. She was going to live and die in that hut near the boundary walls..... She would have no use for fancy words or exotic dances.

Or so she hd always believed.

So when the head alpha had asked for her hand in marriage, she had nearly passed out from her heart giving out.

Namjoon was seven years older, almost thirty winters old and she had only ever caught glimpses of him when he came to check on her father's watchpost occasionally. He was a tall man, strapping and intimidating with dragon eyes that glowed red. And one evening he had stopped by her side when she had been tending the beets and potatoes in the small vegetable garden out back.

He had stared at her for a few long minutes while she had sweated in nervousness and then he had promptly asked for her father. When the man had Stepped in and told her father that he was looking to make her his bride, the old man had been jubilant while Jiah had been confounded.

She hadn't wanted to say yes but she had been too much of a coward to say no. Besides, she didn't know if saying no would have any repurcussions....she didn't want to risk offending the literal head of the entire clan. What if they banished her? What would become of her then?

And so she had said yes. And here she was.

Mated to the man for life, her wolf connected to his and his mark on her neck and now....his child in her womb.

She felt the familiar stirring of panic, digging her nails into her palm to ground herself .

Jiah had long come to terms with the fact that her mind was not her friend. It sometimes tried to attack her , tried to make her feel irrational things. It convinced her that she was a bother, that she was useless, that she was a burden. It also tried to tell her that she was in danger, that she had to run and avoid and get away, even when she was perfectly safe.

When she had first come here as the head Alphas new wife, her brain had wrecked havoc on her senses. Had made her feel like a hunted animal, always cowering and hiding and trying to disappear . Namjoon had tried to be friendly, tried to be courteous and all she had done was hide and recoil, skin ice cold and words practically non existent. She hadn't said a word to him those first few days and even the bedding had been a nightmare, her entire body stiff as a board and she knew that he had probably felt like he was making love to a corpse.

She regretted it. Deeply. But there was not much she could do about it now. Besides she wasn't sure she even wanted to. It was obvious her husband's affections lay elsewhere. She had seen the way he looked at that courtesan. Had seen him sneak out for walks with her, had seen them huddled together in the room with all the scrolls and leather bound books.

Jisoo was a beautiful omega, well read and trained in musical arts. She played the gayageum and the flute, knew how to entertain guests with a perfect ceremonial dance and she was always at the helm of every festivity, dressed in vibrant fabrics and full of life.

She was also madly in love with Namjoon.

Jiah sighed, watching the horses paw at the dirty stable floor. She wanted to get to know her husband, yes. But she knew that even if she did, he would only find her wanting and inadequate in all ways.

And that was just not acceptable .

She maybe self aware when it came to her short comings but she also had her pride.

She would rather live like this. Tucked away like an embarassment, hidden like a dirty secret because then there would be no piercing gaze weighing her against her peers and declaring her broken.

Yes.

Pregnant or not, she wanted nothing to do with her husband.

------------------------

" Are you feeling well now?" Namjoon's voice startled her, eyes going wide as she looked around the resting quarters , gaze finally falling on the man standing near the large table on the side. Namjoon was bent over the rough oak surface , papers spread out in front of him, an oil lamp burning bright nearby, casting a sepia shadow on the man himself and she hesitated, debating the pros and cons of excusing herself to go see his mother instead. Maybe claiming a headache?

In the end she did neither, resolving to at least make an effort with this.

" I'm well, alpha. " She swallowed the lump in her throat. " I'm sorry for inconveniencing you. "

He straightened, turning around to look at her finally.

" Do you wish to move into another room?" He said briskly and she startled.

" Another room?"

" Now that you are with pup, there's no reason for us to keep sleeping together. I prefer having my own space. "

Jiah felt the blood rush through her ears. This shouldn't hurt but it did and she could feel the self loathing flood her senses. She stared down at herself, the lack of beauty and the utter lack of any kind of elegant upbringing. Of course he didn't want to stay with her any longer. What had she been thinking , agreeing to this farce of a mating?

" I... Alright. "

Namjoon turned away from her.

" Good. I've already arranged for all your things to be moved to the west wing , next to the gardens."

Far away from his rooms, Jiah thought bitterly. The sudden realization that Namjoon had been looking for some sort of brood mare and not a mate hit her . And it suddenly made sense that he hd picked her.

Someone easy to boss around.

Someone who wouldn't demand anything from him, loyalty or affection or attention .

And it irked her for some reason.

Why did he get to treat her that way? Why must she put up with it?

But she stayed quiet because she wasn't sure what to say.

" You can leave now, Jiah. " He said dismissively and she hesitated before stepping out of the room.

And she wondered if with her departure, someone else would be taking her place in his bed.

-----------------------------

Authors Note : would you guys like first person narrative or should I continue in third person? 👀

#namjoon Werewolf drabble

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thatshithurted8 · 4 years

Text

Introverted

Summary: JJ falls in love with the introverted Kook Pope tutors

Part two can be found here

Word Count: 2.2k

JJ Maybank wasn’t the type of person to believe in ‘love at first sight’ hell, with the way his dad treats him he doesn’t even know if he believes in love. However,JJ was left second guessing after seeing you for the first time.

“Why can’t I just stay here when you tutor. I’ll be quiet.” The blond says to Pope as the two sat at a table in The Wreck while waiting for the Kook Pope is tutoring.

“Cause JJ it’s you.” Pope snaps back at his friend, knowing his antics of being distracting.

JJ rolls his eyes, “Come on man Kie is waiting tables and John B is on a date with Sarah.”

“Go to John B’s and watch tv or have a shower or eat or even wank one out.”

JJ crosses his arms annoyed and leans back in his chair causing it to scrape against the ground. Just as JJ was about to get up and leave his eyes land on you walking through the doors of The Wreck.

Despite Outer Banks being a small town where everyone knew everyone he has never seen you before. The blond sucks in a breath of air as he watches you look around the small restaurant and start to walk over to him and Pope. JJ could swear that there was a golden glow surrounding you as you walked.

“Hi Pope.” You say timidly with a closed mouth smile before sitting down across from the boys and putting your bag on the chair beside you. JJ feels his heart increase just with how close you were to him and he didn’t know why.

JJ sits back up and leans over to his friend, “Yea I’m definitely staying now.”

After the first time JJ met you he made sure to go to every study session Pope had with you, claiming that he wanted to learn too. Pope and the rest of the Pogues knew this was a lie. It was JJ after all he didn’t care to learn and he definitely didn’t care about his grades.

Even though the Maybank boy claimed to be listening he would discreetly admire you. JJ was so used to hook ups and one night stands that he was genuinely confused as to why he wanted to be in your presence. You were extremely shy so you didn’t talk much, but JJ made it his goal to make you laugh every chance he got during the sessions. God he loved your laugh. He also liked the way you would place the end of your pen between your lips while you focused or how your eyebrows would furrow when you were confused.

It was only after a few study sessions when the group of Pogues started to make fun of JJ and his crush on you. JJ didn’t think much of his friends taunts, but before he fell asleep at night his mind couldn’t help, but drift back to you. As his mind would drift he JJ realized that he did like you, but his feelings towards you were stronger. The blond has had his fair amount of crushes, but none of them ever felt like this. Thinking back to the day he first met you JJ recalled how he felt when he first saw you, it was like Cupid shot him in the heart and then punched him in the face for extra measures. As JJ fell asleep he had a smile on his face, finally accepting the fact that he loves you.

“Thanks for the ride.” You say to JJ while getting into John B’s van and buckling up.

“The pleasure is all mine sweetheart.” JJ says winking at you and pulling out of your driveway in figure eight. You blush at the nickname he gave you, but you turn to look out the window in attempt for the boy not to see what he was doing to you.

Due to your shyness, most of the car ride to John B’s was quite quiet and JJ didn’t mind at all. He actually liked the silence when it came to you. Don’t get him wrong he loved talking to you every chance he got, but when it was silent with you it was comfortable, not awkward at all. With you he felt at peace, like the world stopped spinning and everything was quiet. Peace is what JJ desperately needed considering the mental turmoil his father puts him through.

“You know.” JJ says tapping the steering wheel. You look over at him and secretly admire his features. God he was so beautiful.

“I don’t get why you have Pope tutor you, you could probably tutor me better than Pope, hell you could probably even tutor him.”

You blush at the compliment, “My parents are the type that think anything less than an A is bad. One time they made my brother sleep on the couch in the guest house because he got a B+.”

JJ chuckles and glances at you, “How’s that a punishment? He still has a roof over his head.” He says rolling his eyes at the privilege Kooks had. You bite your lip instantly feeling bad, knowing that JJ has slept at John B’s for the past two months because he was too scared to go home.

The blond notices you shifting uncomfortably in your seat as you two pull up to the Chateau. “You okay?” He asks, parking and turning the engine off.

“Yea, I uh just didn’t mean to bring up....”

JJ looks at you expectantly and amused as you struggle to find the right words. “Bring up your privilege?”

Your face goes red and you look down at your hands in your lap. Not knowing what to say you simply nod your head. JJ lets out a laugh and grabs your hand in a comforting manner, “Don’t worry Y/N. When I go full Kook one day I’m gonna flaunt my wealth the way Kim K shows off her ass.”

You laugh at what JJ said and couldn’t help, but feel relieved that he wasn’t upset about you bringing up how different you guys’ lives are. It was refreshing that the Pogues never got offended. You could breathe around a Kook wrong and it would be world war 3. You two get out of the van and walk into the Chateau. JJ goes to the fridge and grabs a beer while you walk over to the table where Pope is situated waiting for you.

JJ opens the microwave and puts inside a popcorn bag. He jumps and sits on the counter while waiting for his snack to cook. The Maybank boy couldn’t help, but to admire you and how engrossed you were into the school work. God you were so beautiful.

“Earth to JJ.” Pope says turned around in his chair while waving his hand in front of JJ’s face which breaks the boy out of his trance.

“Your popcorn is ready.” Pope says pointing towards the microwave after it beeped for the third time.

“Oh uh yea.” JJ says, reaching over to open the microwave. He grabs the bag, but instantly bounces it between his hands before the hot bag lands on his crotch. “Ah fuck that’s hot!” He yells jumping off of the counter. You giggle at JJ’s actions which causes his heart rate to increase.

Two hours go by and you still sat at the kitchen table studying with Pope. JJ made you two three dinner and it was starting to get dark.

“Thanks for the help.” Kiara groans sarcastically as her and John B set a keg down on the floor in the middle of the Chateau.

JJ remains sitting on the couch, eating a sandwich, “No problem Kie.”

John B walks over to you and Pope and closes the textbooks you guys were using. You look up at the brunette confused. “Okay you guys have been studying far too long, the party is about to start.”

“You’re staying for it right Y/N?” Kie asks.

You gulp when everyone turns their attention to you. Being the center of attention was something you despised. “I’m not allowed to go to parties.” You say quietly, while checking your phone to see the time.

“Aw then we can take your party virginity.” JJ says standing up and walking over to you.

“I’m supposed to be home for 9.” You say.

JJ stands behind you and wraps his arms around you, his head right beside yours, “Tell your parents that you guys are studying longer.”

“Yea do that.” Pope agrees, finishing cleaning up his work.

You chew on your cheek debating on what to do as the Pogues stare at you. You wanted to spend time with JJ and the rest of the gang, but your parents were extremely strict.

You sigh and smile at your group of friends, “Fine.”

JJ was in the middle of a conversation with a Touron when you walk back outside of the Chateau, after using the washroom. The black haired girl that was getting close to the blond, scoffs and walks away once she realizes what he was looking at.

You looked so beautiful standing on the porch steps looking through the crowd of people for a familiar face while the moon and porch lights illuminated your figure. The lighting made you look angelic and JJ starts to feel his heart beat increase. JJ couldn’t help, but notice how out of place you looked partying with a bunch of Pogues and Tourons. Every girl attending the party was wearing short shorts and a bikini top while you wore the sun dress that you’ve been wearing all day.

The blond watches you bite your lip as you continued to scan the crowd. Your eyes suddenly land on his and he swears he could feel the butterflies in his stomach erupt. JJ moves through the drunk teenagers and walks up the porch steps to stand beside you.

“You okay?” He asks for the second time today.

You nod your head, but let out a yawn, “Yea, just tired.” You say, feeling drained for socially so much today.

“Do you want to lay down?”

You simply shake your head yes, being too tired to speak. With your answer the two of you walk back into the Chateau and JJ leads you to Big Johns room, which is now his.

The Maybank boy shuts the blinds and pulls out one of his t-shirts and a pair of boxers for you to wear. “Do you need anything else?”

“Could I have a glass of water?”

“Yea, get changed and I’ll be right back.” JJ says sending you a wink before leaving the room and shutting the door. You quickly get changed and make sure to text your mom, telling her that you were sleeping over at Kiara’s. You felt bad for lying, but you have never felt closer to JJ than tonight.

A light knock is heard from the bedroom door, “Come in.”

With that being said JJ walks in with a glass of water. Since the room was dark other than the one lamp you couldn’t see the blush that was prominent on JJ’s face. Something about seeing you in his clothes he liked. He liked a lot. “Here you go.” He says, yawning himself.

“Thank you.” You say taking it and having a sip. “Are you tired?”

“Yea, but I’ll sleep on the couch.”

You drink another mouthful of water and furrow your eyebrows, “You aren’t going to sleep with people coming in and out. Just sleep in here with me.” You say after swallowing the water. You couldn’t believe that you suggested that, but you were glad that you did.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes JJ.” You say with a smile while placing the glass on the night stand and getting into the bed. You didn’t need to tell JJ twice because he started to undress down to his boxers basically right away.

You were glad that the room was quite dark so he wouldn’t see your blush after seeing him basically naked. You swore that he was part Greek God. JJ locks the door in case any drunk couples try to fuck. He then walks around to the other side of the bed and climbs in, making sure to turn off of the light before lying down.

His breath starts to hitch as he gets comfortable under the covers. Once JJ is finally settled he notices you shivering. “Are you cold?”

“Yea.” You say quietly while wrapping the covers around your body.

“Here.” JJ says moving closer to you and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close to him. Your heart skips a beat, but you snuggle up to the Maybank boy, intertwining your hands.

JJ has thought about and dreamed about this moment so many times before that he couldn’t believe that it was finally happening. His thumb that was in your hand starts to rub your soft skin and your breathing begins to become labored as you fall asleep. JJ remains awake, trying to savor the moment. Even with the loud music and yelling coming from outside JJ felt at peace.

He starts to fall asleep himself, content with the position you two were in. This is what love is supposed to feel like.

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yandere-society · 4 years

Text

The Rabbit Hole

Summary: The Windy City in the mid-1920s is a spectacle of lights and sounds, roaring with the excitement of jazz music and swinging dance moves. Amid the brilliant stars of Chicago nightlife, there is a dark underground of secrets, mainly that being the mysterious Wonderland Ball you've been invited to participate in and be crowned the next "Alice". What you don't know is you may or may not be allowed to leave, per the Mad Hatter and a White Rabbit's desires. So, daring and brave as you are, you decide to take a journey down The Rabbit Hole and come face to face with high society - people - as you've never seen them before.

Genre: Yandere; Historical Fiction/ Fantasy Based In The 1920′s; Smut; Thriller; Alice in Wonderland Inspired

Warnings: Yandere themes, Mentions of drug/ alcohol use with/without consent, mentions of “gangsters”, light talks of selling your soul/ the devil/ religious “themes”?, sedative drugs used non-consensually, vivid dreams/nightmares, maybe light profanity? Smut: Non-protected sex (twice), creampies, oral sex (f and m receiving/giving), slight nipple play?, spanking, marking, bruising, slightly rough sex, use of a sex swing/ sex swing intercourse, f and m orgasms. I think that’s it.

Pairings: Jeon Jungkook (White Rabbit) x Reader (Alice) x Kim Seokjin (Mad Hatter), Side Pairing of Johnny (Jonathan) Suh from NCT x Reader, Johnny x Jung Jaehyun from NCT.

Author’s Notes: This is not going to be a historically accurate piece. As much as I am an advocate for research and learning about the times of old, I am only human and I am short on time researching in between my full time job. I have grown up and currently live in Chicago and I have never written a story about the Windy City before so here I am, writing to you about the wonderful city I call home. I am doing my best to stay true to my writing as well as make it as accurate as one can, but please forgive me if there are faults in this story!

We are not doing a collective Valentine’s Day event this year but the contents of this piece have been weighing heavily on my mind, so I asked if I could write this story for a little something-something. I hope you all enjoy it!

Written By: Admin 💖 @therealmintedmango

Also, who do you think the other boys from BTS are from Alice in Wonderland in this story? I’d love to know!

Stepping out of my very own vehicle my future husband’s family sent for me, I take in the sights and the sounds that Chicago provides this snowy afternoon.

People waltz around one another and mingle about, snow crunching under their feet. The faint sounds of jingle bells float down the streets in the chilly air, it smells of popcorn and roasted nuts as well as the sludge of gasoline tainting the snow. A cold breeze gliding across the buildings nearly knocks me off my feet as I look up to my new place of residence, a new high-rise Michigan Ave. The stars above my head seem to sparkle in the dark sky, or are those just the electric lights from the grand buildings surrounding me?

Curious, I think as I continue to have my sights set above the horizon. I’ve certainly strayed very far from the corn fields of back home. Inhaling the sharp, bitterly cold air around me, I feel a sense of dread almost wash over my senses. I knew what I was signing up for when I came here. Jonathan and I discussed it in great detail over the wire.

The reality of the situation is finally sinking into my layers of clothing.

Jonathan Suh, the grandson of Suh Realtor Industries Incorporated - which owns about one third of Chicago - has asked me to marry him. It was seemingly out of the blue too. I was going to spend the next years of my life trying to marry into the best livestock or vegetable farmer in town, not the filthy rich grandson in a large city. It felt like a dream when he called me and begged me to come as soon as possible. I suppose it pays off to be kind to everyone, especially when it felt like it was yesterday we were both in grammar school together.

I drink it all in, the busy sounds, the cold night air that leaves me feeling bitter and raw standing in the street while snow begins to descend from the blackened sky. It feels foreign to me even though it’s only about two hours away from the farm. The breeze blistering in from the west sends a chill up my spine.

This is a new beginning, I ponder to myself as I stretch upwards in the middle of the sidewalk. This is my chance at a better life, this is way better than being some poor, sad farm girl. That’s right! I’m going to be the wife of my childhood friend who just happened to be some rich playboy who has more money than he knows what to do with.

I’m going to be a Suh!

...Even if the whole arrangement is a sham...

“Miss, you are going to freeze to death outside!” Jonathan’s maids rush to usher me out of the cold quickly, but not before I accidentally bump into someone on the busy sidewalk.

“I beg you to pardon me,” I mumble as I set my sights over my shoulder on a man dressed in a long coat with hair as white as the snow currently blanketing the ground. “You’ll have to forgive me, I am just enraptured with how bright Chicago seems to shine at night.”

The man’s seemingly red eyes expand with my excitement, then soften. “No pardon to beg, Miss…?” He queries, a bloom of warmth spreading across his face.

“Suh.” I smile as the men shout from my car they have finished unpacking. “Well, I am the future Mrs. Jonathan Suh. For now I suppose I am still Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Strange, I didn’t think he… Well, never mind that now.” His eyes linger on mine. “Johnny’s got good taste.” I hear him mumble under his breath in a deep tone, slurring his words together in a string. “Well, I can’t wait to see more of you, future Mrs. Jonathan Suh.” He says as he swings his coat behind himself and takes off down the street, the crowd and the night dissolving him like a pill in warm water.

Curious and curiouser this night becomes, I think as the maids finally have enough of me standing about in the cold.

“Do you know who that was?” I ask the hoard of them, hoping someone has the answer to my bump in the night with a rather odd fellow. My heart is beating but I’m not sure what for. I know my place. I know why he called me… My fate was sealed as soon as I got the wire from my future husband.

The collective flock shake their heads and mutter polite “noes” as they lead me up grand staircases of marble and through dim corridors at this time of night, leaving my brain a drifting piece of snow in the blizzard that will surely accumulate outside overnight.

“Right this way.” A young redhead coos as she parades me up what must be my twentieth flight of stairs I’ve climbed this evening. “Master Suh will be so happy you are here at last!” They lead me into a beautiful room with the most lavish furniture I’ve ever seen in my life! Magazines and pictures certainly don’t bestow such fine items with quite the same honor as seeing such beauty in person.

“Madam Suh has a full schedule for you this weekend.” One of the elderly looking women dares to swoon as she says, “Wedding planning, I’m sure, no doubt.” My coat is taken from me and I am given house slippers to wear.

The flock - or really I should call them a herd of lemmings - all agree once more as a butler leads us through a hallway with objects of fine art, pottery, and paintings. Each item is so uniquely wonderful that it would make my brothers’ and sisters’ heads spin if they saw how perfect and polished everything is. How ornate and lavish! Am I to spend my life with fine, intricate pieces of art from all mediums? I wonder if Jonathan has created any of these himself? Would he allow me to paint? I wonder...

“Master Suh,” I inhale, realizing I am right at the threshold of a beautiful oak door. “Miss Y/N Y/L/N has arrived.” The butler announces.

My body feels all fuzzy and nervous for some reason. It’s been many years since I’ve seen my dear friend from when we were still learning how to hop on a bicycle in the country where his family had a small house and property that butted up against my family’s by the little lake in the middle of a corn field.

“Y/N!” A deep, refreshing voice purrs before he embraces me in a tight hug. “How was your ride? Did the car fair well, unlike the weather?” He chuckles as his tall frame dwarfs mine in comparison. The scent of him is most definitely cinnamon, scotch, and leather, which I’m not surprised. All fine things to smell of for certain.

The maids all giggle and mumble their approval and the butlers look away, anxious to gaze upon a woman in another man’s arms. I suppose his gesture of a greeting is very rude, but I don’t mind. Being smack-dab in the middle of my siblings, I feel like nothing phases me anymore, even the hug Jonathan wraps around me.

“Jonathan Suh,” I simper, pulling out of his embrace, “The ride was not too terrible, and my, how tall you’ve grown! And so dapper too.” I sigh earnestly. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“I hope you say that every day you wake up and I am there beside you.” Jonathan’s brown eyes seem to daze in the glow from the lamp lights in the sitting parlor.

There’s nothing more I hate than an arrogant flirt, not to mention an arrogant flirt with money is all the more trouble. Is this really going to be the rest of my life? Living with Jonathan like this? So contrived and fake… it makes my insides twist.

“I am rather weary though from a day full of travels.” I pretend to yawn, shifting out of his arms bit by bit and heading toward the door. “May I have the delight in seeing you tomorrow?”

“Oh yes, you must be quite tired. I always get sleepy on car rides.’ Jonathan muses as he extends his hand to the door and the staff scramble into place. “Mr. and Mrs. Alan would you please escort Y/N to her room? I will be here but on the other end of the house until we are...you know-”

“Goodnight, Jonathan.” I say almost too quickly after that, leaving almost as swiftly as I’ve come.

Once my hair is down and I am dressed comfortably in my nightgown, I feel like I can take a deep breath again. It feels odd with my hair unpinned, sitting in a brand-new nightgown, overlooking the rocking waves of the lake and the snow that drifts down from the sky. Basking in the sill of my window from the beautiful lights and moonlight shining through my velvet curtains, I hope and pray that every night I spend in Chicago is not as forced and fake as this one has been.

I’m chasing something odd in my dream.

I move between pictures hanging on the walls, through the bellies of grandfather clocks, I emerge through the darkness every time, chasing a little white rabbit with a cottontail through or around objects of grand design. I have never had a dream that felt so vivid and real, like I am actually flying through my thoughts, time of the utmost essence for some unknown reason. I can’t seem to escape a dark feeling looming around me and I feel slightly frightened that I will not catch the little thing.

When I reach for the little dumpling covered in pretty white fur, it lurches forward, propelling my desire to catch up to the little beast.

I descend deeper and deeper, the spotlight in the darkness focused solely on the bunny ahead of me. I can’t reach him, I’m not fast enough, my feet do not carry me quick enough. I call to the animal but it doesn’t hear me, instead it flies between two large velvet curtains.

“Please!” I beg the animal as I pop through the hole in the curtains, shuffling through on my knees. “Where are you taking…me…” My question dies in my throat as I look up to find red eyes, his curly blonde hair waving at me from under a gold top hat, a gold mask from that of a masquerade celebration covering most of his face.

But, I know that soft smirk well now. I’ve replayed it several times already in my mind like the fool I am.

This is the man I met on the sidewalk. I gasp. But, why is he inhabiting my dream?

“Welcome to Wonderland, Alice.” A soft voice wafts from high above the two of us, making me shiver. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

Why am I frightened? Surely this is not a nightmare. I was only following a rabbit and now I am here with these two men.

Slowly, my eyes trail up the large mahogany platform, showcasing a very large, ornately plush gold and maroon seat which houses a man in an all green suit of the finest quality. He is also wearing a mask trimmed with greens and golds, his lush lips pinkened like he had just indulged in delicious raspberry jam pulled into a dark smirk. He sits with the side of his pale face in one of his hands, resting comfortably on the arm of the pretty chair. The man from the street sits on a swing that hangs high from the rafters, silently taking me in. An aura of power and class drips tastefully from every fiber of his being, weighing heavily upon me like he is a hammer and I am but a humble nail.

“Good job chasing rabbits.” The man’s smile further stretches, his amber eyes boring down upon me, making my skin want to jump from my skeleton. “The next step is to find The Rabbit Hole.”

My eyes fling open, a train's loud horn blaring in the distance, the golden morning haze filtering from the curtains across the room. I jolt upward in bed, cold sweat beading my body, tainting the beautiful nightgown the Suhs have given me. I throw the sheets off my bed and clutch my forehead, musing the words of the man in all green over and over to myself in a frenzy.

...What a dreadfully vivid dream...

I’ve been here for almost a week and I’ve lost count of the tea parties and luncheons I’ve attended with Mrs. Suh. The people and the houses and families they all belong to are getting lost to me in the wake of planning for a wedding. Though, I’m not sure how much I am actually planning. Merely pointing between two colors of table placemats and napkins or choosing between a flower or two.

Tonight though, it is another snowy evening on the lakeshore, we are attending a jazz concert at the Sunset Cafe to see a wonderful show performed by the talented Cab Calloway and Louis Armstrong who make the most wonderful music. I was practically buzzing when I heard the news that the Suhs would be taking me this evening. As always, Jonathan and his mother have only two options for me to wear this evening and I must make a choice between them. A silver, more A-lined gown that shows off more skin than one should in the winter with a mink-fur cowl or more fluttering, off the shoulder velvet cobalt-blue style of a ball gown with embroidered golden stars falling from the bust in waves of tulle.

Call me old fashioned, but I choose the one that makes me feel like a princess, not the one that makes me fit in. My thoughts wander between which Suh picked out which dress for me to wear and the dream of me chasing a white rabbit.

I can never seem to catch that rabbit nor have I seen the two men since my first dream. It relieved me, but it also scared me.

A shimmering laugh that is made of moonbeams and stars pulls me from my spell of thought that engrossed me.

The Suhs are dotting and cheerful people, always looking out for their only son in this cruel world. They are wonderful and powerful in their own ways, working the men and ladies in the sitting room of the theater with just a glance or smile of their lips. Mr. Suh smokes a cigar and smacks Jonathan on the back as they stand in the corner away from the ladies. Mrs. Suh includes me in all her conversations, never wanting me to feel lost or dissuaded from a million questions by another matriarch of a well-to-do family.

I can see why Jonathan doesn’t want to disappoint them or the good people of his clan’s name before or after himself.

The room is hazy from the smoky cigars that the men all drag on in between their elaborate conversations about President Coolidge and his beliefs while the women discuss lighter subjects such as traveling to Paris and Morocco as well as tennis. I find my thoughts up in the cloud of smoke that hangs in the room.

“Pardon me, ladies,” Jonathan places a hand gently upon my shoulder, “may I steal Y/N away for a few moments?”

“The concert will begin shortly, Johnny.” Mrs. Suh smiles, casting her charms to her son who smiles with reassurance to his dear mother.

“Don’t fret, mother,” Jonathan grins as she calls him his nickname, “I want to show her off to my college chums.”

Her eyes twinkle in delightful mischief as she swirls her glass of sweet liquor in her hand. “Just be sure to return her in one piece. Y/N has a long day ahead of her tomorrow.”

More wedding planning I’m not privy to I suppose? Such is my life now. High society is fun and all but the pressure is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before… No, my brain is captivated once more by the dark aura of the man from my dream, looming and lingering above me, teeth glimmering in the lim electric light of the room from my lucid dream. That was true, pure evil pressure I wish to never partake in the feeling of ever again.

Jonathan says nothing as he turns from her, ushering me away with his hand placed gently on my shoulder. We move silently and quickly through groups who mingle and giggle, alcohol strong in their glasses and upon their breath as we pass through the crowd of rich socialites.

We stop at one group of gentlemen, but I am only introduced to one handsome man named Jung Jaehyun who fondly shakes Jonathan’s hand and winks at me. What an odd fellow, I tell myself as we dive deeper and deeper into the crowd of people loitering in the fancy sitting room.

“I’m glad you wore the one I picked out.” Jonathan says so low that I may only be able to hear his words. Well, that answers that question then. “These men might eat you alive, so stay as sharp as a blade but soft as a lamb, understand me? They will not leave me be until I introduce you to them.”

“Are they your friends?” I query with a whisper as he pulls me to the edge of the room where young men have beautiful young ladies draped on their elbows.

I have never seen a lady look like they do, but I suppose it is fashionable and “kept up with the times”. I am not so appealing as these ladies are with their skin on display and their heels high, they attract my attention before the men who hold them up do. Their makeup is dark, yet shimmering in the soft glow from the electric lights from above. The fair ladies’ hair is cut so short, their sideways hats and feather headbands merely slip off their sleek and shiny hairstyles. I am in awe of the way they look and envy them for behaving and chatting so freely.

“Do not be scared, but they are budding gangsters who run speakeasies.” My eyes widen with his words, but I do what I am told. “Please do me another favor, Y/N, and become the most desirable woman here.” Jonathan whispers to me before we approach the hoard of people in front of me. “I will set you free from this cage as soon as I can.”

I can only nod as my demeanor switches like that of a light switch.

Walking up to these men and women I’ve never met, I invoke the acting spirit of Jane West for Jonathan. I demand my attention. I am the most beautiful creature in this sitting room, if not all of the world. I did not go to college but I am going to show you how well read and cultured I am. I am going to be a Suh and I command you all to bow down to me in this instant.

“Suh!” A tall man with coiffed, sandy blonde locks beams as he steps away from his fair darling on his arm tonight. “You dog! I didn’t think you’d grace us with your presence this evening!” They shake hands and laugh at nothing vigorously as I look between the two before the blonde catches my eye. They are pretty amber eyes that remain half-lidded and surely dazzle in the glow from chandeliers above. He’s not as tall as Jonathan, but he is handsome. “This must be-”

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

A voice from behind the blonde says clearly, setting to be free from the shadow of Jonathan’s friend.

It’s the white rabbit! I think as I try to hold myself together. He looks rather dapper in a white and gold waistcoat with tails, a top hat making him appear to be as formal as one can be. This is the gentleman I bumped into the streets, but I cannot press out of my head. I want to tell him to stay out of my dreams, but I fear he will think me mad if I declare such a bold thing without expressing my thoughts further.

“You know of my future bride, Jeon?” I feel the grip upon my shoulder tighten and breath being held from above me. Don’t fret, Jonathan, I would never tell anyone. I promise. Your secret is safe with me.

The friend with his hair as white as the fallen snow looks at me passively, eyes rimmed red like he can’t sleep a wink either. “I met her on the sidewalk, John, but we’ve never been properly introduced.” He bows and takes my blue-colored gloved hand in his white ones. He kisses the top of my hand and in this ball gown-like dress I am indeed fulfilling my fantasy of pretending to be a beautiful princess. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, future Mrs. Jonathan Suh.”

“Y/N,” Jonathan says, exhaling the concerned breath he’s been holding in, his grip returning to normal as well. “These are my friends from college: Mr. Kim Namjoon, whose family owns one third of the city like mine does, and Mr. Jeon Jungkook, who makes up the triangle of the most powerful families of Chicago.”

“At your service.” Jungkook says with a cheeky grin stretching across his face, kissing the top of my hand once more.

The way he looks up at me makes butterflies trapped in my body flutter and flounce about. But I cannot swoon or succumb to a young man so openly. Jonathan is counting on me.

“I’m delighted to meet Jonathan’s friends from his schooling.” I say in the same charming manner Mrs. Suh has produced all week.

“Forgive me for this is a bold question, future Mrs. Suh, but, will you be getting a gown made?” Namjoon asks me as he sips his scotch on the rocks.

“I think tomorrow I am going for a fitting, yes.” I nod my head, smiling just the right amount.

“Then it should be crafted by the finest in the Windy City, Kim’s Couture on the corner of Washington and LaSalle Street. Have you heard of the establishment before?” Namjoon queries.

“Indeed! I have!” I exclaim happily, my eyes wide as his stay half-lidded as though he is sleepy, though he smiles earnestly.

“Then I must insist you have a treasured wedding gown made by my seamstresses.” He hands me a white business card with only his name upon it. I stare at it until he taps it twice. “They will take excellent care of you, I promise.”

“Oh-ho!” A soft, almost melliferous voice rings out behind me. No... “This must be the infamous bride-to-be!” I know this voice! Fear rattles through me, making me tremble as I look over the shoulder Jonathan is not draped over to look at the mysterious voice. Time is slow as molasses as I face the man from my dream, clad all in a green waistcoat, vest, and top hat, wolfishly grinning at me.

“Ah, this is my eldest brother,” Namjoon muses as the electric lights flash, indicating the performance will begin soon, “Seokjin Kim.”

Kim Seokjin...

I feel like I know everything about this man yet nothing at all. He is the type of man who is a brilliant summer on the outside and stormy winter on the inside. The smile on his lips - that is the color of the inside of a cherry tart - is warm, yet cold all in the same breath. He appears to be a powerful man of high class, wrapped in an enigma of grace and power. But there is a scent of something malicious in the air as he closes the gap between us and gets down on his knee to kiss upon my hand.

I’m not sure what made me do it, but something comes over me, the flight or fight instinct animals possess lurches out of me in this moment.

“Why is a raven like a writing desk?” I ask, pulling my arm away from him.

Seokjin’s bright amber eyes slowly travel up my ball gown, disbelief and confusion colors his good looking features.

Mouths open in shock and my heart drops, but I feign a lie, turning out of Jonathan grasp, and quickly say, “Forgive me, for I feel faint.” I run to the bathroom in the hall as everyone piles into the main room of the Sunset Cafe, heart pounding in my chest and cheeks on fire.

I’m so sorry Jonathan, I did not mean to make a fool out of you. There is just something about the way Seokjin’s gaze is so feral that chills me to the bone.

A hand rests upon Jungkook’s shoulder while he continues to longingly gaze at the door as if he was willing me to come back with his mind. “Don’t worry, Jeon.” Seokjin purrs in his ear, amber gleam set upon the door. “She is the one who chases you every night, not the other way around.”

“I know, hyung.” Jungkook whispers as the brass begins to trumpet through the building. “When do we make our move?”

“Soon.” Seokjin chuckles darkly, guiding the younger of the boys to follow behind him. “Very soon we will have our glorious tea party.”

The subject of marriage has always been an odd one to me, I think to myself as maids and fashion consultants from the Kim’s dress boutique flutter and coo around me.

My parents married but it was never for love. I knew that, my siblings and myself knew that, yet they both loved us all the same. My mother and father married as more of a “good match on paper” sort of situation, than they were truly, madly in love. Still, they never fought, my father never hit my mother, never drank himself silly, never talked to another woman. My mother upheld the same standard and raised us all with love in her hardworking heart. I knew she was aware that I haven’t spoken to Jonathan since we were young children and that I would soon be in the same boat if I accepted his offer.

“A lifetime of money doesn’t equal happiness.” She told me. “You should marry for love, not for any green or gold.”

I agree. I know this full well. I’m not one to be stingy or greedy by any means. I don’t want to be an actress in a picture show or model for a beautiful Channel garment. And though I do want love in my life, I want a secure future. I am the middle child of middle-class farmers. The best match I could have made besides this one was with a cattle farmer or a man who works in the stockyards on the south side of Chicago.

It’s selfish for me to do this not only for myself but to my mother as well.

But, I am here and like my family, I will be fiercely loyal to the man I will call my husband. If not, call me a bold-faced liar and take me and my words to the grave.

Jonathan Suh is not a bad man for who he prefers in the sheets. I know that and have never felt such a way to treat someone less of me if they do prefer the company of one sex over another. I will not break the promise I’ve made to him, but I cannot help but feel like a songbird trapped in a tight, metal cage for the decision I’ve made to help him.

Due to the poor weather Chicago has currently come down with, the wedding has been postponed until further notice.

When I wired my family to tell them the news, my mother answered. I was a bit more than surprised that she almost sounded relieved when I told her the news. I promised I would wire soon and my younger sisters begged me to take them to the city to go shopping at Marshall Fields. My father sounded passive at first when the telephone wire was transferred to him by my youngest brother after he told me the family cat, Cheshire, had gone missing.

Truth be told, I am also more than happy to exhale a breath and not worry about someone questioning me about my upbringing. Or having Mrs. Suh and the don of high-class ladies and waist-coated men galloping around every breath I take.

I can finally relax, I think as I pull out a book in the study as Jonathan reads the Chicago Tribune on the couch across the way from me. We get along well, I realize. Silence suits us both. No tricks, not faking our way through hordes of important people. We have to conserve and save our energy for when we face the people mercilessly wanting to know everything and anything about us, good ole’ Jonathan and I...

No, not Jonathan anymore… I am to be his wife, and he...my…

I peer at him from over my book on flowers, losing interest in the pages.

Can I really pretend we are to be an item forever? Will one of us crack or slip up? It seems like we are stuck in a circle now, both of us floating in a pool of choices we will surely drown in.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Someone knocks at the door, plucking me from my fever of thoughts. I fully peer over the pages in my hands, pretending like I was in fact engrossed in the origin story of an author I enjoyed as a girl.

“Enter.” Jonathan says without skipping a beat, not looking up from his black and white ink. His eyes scan the pages, following the drumming beat of the grandfather clock next to the roaring fireplace. But, now that I study him closer, I’m unsure if he was actually reading or just musing to himself like I was moments ago.

“The post, sir.” Butler James reports as he opens the door, my handmaiden Emily gliding up to us with a silver plate in her hands.

“Thank you, Emily.” Jonathan gives her a half-smile as he takes the single envelope off the tray, slicing it open with trepidation.

I look at the blood-red colored wax seal as he flips the paper, revealing a knight chess piece glaring upside down at me.

Jonathan scans the letter passively at first, his orbs lazily scanning the pages, then suddenly his eyes ignite with rage behind them. “No.” He says softly, red flushing to his handsome face. He rips the paper up into shreds then, aggression and hatred oozing from every pore for some unknown reason. He gets up as he throws the scraps in the fire with vigor as butler James, Emily, and I all stare at him like he’s grown a second head. “Don’t you dare go.” He warns me, irises blaring with unmeasurable loathing. “Those people are dangerous.” Jonathan practically snarls as he exits the room in a fit of rage, stomping down the hall as we look on stunned and slack-jawed at what had just happened.

From what I can tell, Jonathan isn’t one to get upset easily or lash out so that letter must have set him off. But what could it have been?

It really has sparked my curiosity, that’s for certain.

Where wasn’t I supposed to go and who was so dangerous?

I got the answer the next day as I read a book about traveling the jungles of South America.

“Miss!” My handmaiden whispers like a hiss as she enters the study. “Miss!”

“Yes, Emily?” I smile, putting my book down as she flutters to my side in a nervous frenzy. “What is the matter?”

“I snagged this from the post, miss.” She hands you the letter you saw the previous day with Jonathan, the one that he got enraged over. “Please open it quickly, miss, before the butler spots it! They want us to destroy anything with this seal on it!”

I do as I am told, opening up the letter addressed to both Jonathan and myself with the odd wax seal to find an invitation inside.

You Are Cordially Invited To Participate In:

THE WONDERLAND BALL

A Masquerade Party To Determine The Next “Alice”

For Directions Follow Us Down The Rabbit Hole

Knock Thrice For The Door Mouse To Let You Inside

Cheers,

The ‘Mad Hatter’ & Company

“How curious...” I muse as my eyes trail over the letter over and over, wondering what has Jonathan all in a panicked rage. “Well, I don’t even know where “The Rabbit Hole” is so I shan’t be going.”

“Tis’ a speakeasy, Miss.” Emily says her eyes wide as she reads the paper with you. “They say it’s the most fun one in all of downtown!” She giggles. “Shall I fetch you a gown for the ball?”

“No.” I shake my head with a small smile, hanging her back the letter. “If Jonathan said he doesn’t want me to go, I won’t.” I pick up my book as she slightly deflates, wanting to paint me up for the festivities I was invited to. “Please burn this now, Emily, so you don’t get in trouble.”

“Right away, Miss.” Emily bows a little before she heads out of the room, leaving me to daydream in the middle of the study in peace.

“How long must we wait?” Jungkook pesters Seokjin tirelessly who looks down from his wooden pedestal in the back room of the very peculiar club. “I am afraid a letter and her dreams are not going to cut it.” Jungkook snorts, frustration flashing in his red eyes.

“Mm, yes…” Seokjin rubs his chin with his white gloved hand, “Johnny boy has been hiding our little Alice away from our prying eyes, hasn’t he?”

“Yes!” Jungkook stomps his foot like that of a child, fists balled into tight fists at his sides. “And I was promised a maiden for all the hard work I’ve done for you!”

Seokjin laughs darkly then, the sound echoing off the walls of his private chambers. “Jungkook, I’m not sure if you understand that poisoning people and taking out a few smaller families in our beloved city is considered hard work.” He stops then, Seokjin’s usually light voice dripping with malice when he says, “But, I suppose this is one way to end the Suhs and get the last jewel on the crown you are desiring in your attempts to rule the city.”

“Is everything in place for the ball?” Jungkook grits his teeth as he stares up into the man who could end him in one go, but is choosing to help the young gangster. “Your magic won’t fail us now?”

Seokjin winks at him, spending him a flying kiss as he says, “It's going to be dreadfully delightful.” Ending the Suhs, managing to take out some more people in big crime families in Chicago, and adding one more perfect woman to his growing collection of pawns.

Sure, he was mad and about to destroy several lives in the process, but hell if he wasn’t half brilliant and good looking while doing so.

“Mr. Jeon!” I gasp as I peer at the man at my penthouse doorstep, covered in white flakes of heavy, wet snow sticking to his black trench coat and bowler hat. Everyone, even most of the maids were out this afternoon which is why I find myself in front of the door to the penthouse.

“Good evening, Y/L/N.” Jeon Jungkook smiles as he looks down at me earnestly. “Is your future husband not at home?” He whispers as he looks around the empty foyer, red-rimmed eyes glancing over the dim electric lights in the hallway.

I flush. My mind was hazy remembering my kiss with him and the other man that is never far away, Kim Seokjin, from the depths of my dreams. My dreams need to leave me be or I may turn into a codfish with the way they keep my head spinning. They haunt me so, the way my brain demands my nightmares to be replayed over and over like this.

“I’m afraid not, he said he’d be out for the night, taking care of something important at the office.” I say with a fake sigh, shaking my head. Truthfully, he’s been acting very strange lately and I can't quite put my finger on the reason for his odd behavior. Ever since he got that letter… Come to think of it, I haven’t seen any post since that strange night. I’ll ask Emily about it in the morning.

“I see.” Jungkook says softly. The grandfather clock chimes from the sitting room and I am suddenly aware of what time it is. I’m severely underdressed in my baby blue lounge attire, completely ill-prepared for meeting company. Books about faraway lands with princes and kings were the only thing occupying my time this evening and I’m embarrassed to even think that. “In that case, your outfit will just have to do, I suppose…”

Jungkook suddenly steps closer to me in one long stride, closing the gap between me and him. My heart skips a beat, his pupils dilate, my words run dry as he snakes one arm around my back, the other holding my chin with his thumb and forefinger.

“Mr. Jeon-” I stammer, unable to call for help, now that this man has me in his grasp.

“I have been willing you to come and follow me, to give into your darkest desires, but still you resist me.” The young man hisses down at me, brows knit with confusion. “You are the only thing anyone talks about and I cannot stand it any longer.” My mouth hangs open. His nostrils flare as he makes his move. “You will be mine. Not locked away in this tower while Johnny is out and about with another man. You will be our new Alice.”

Before I can say anything, he pours a vile from his pocket into my mouth, holding it above my arms so I can’t smack it away. It tastes like roast turkey and strong alcohol and I try to claw and get away but I cannot as Jungkook holds my mouth open; my tongue feels numb and my arms feel like jelly, going limp in Jungkook’s arms. The only thing I can remember before completely blacking out is the little tag on the side of the bottle that says “DRINK ME”, tied with a pink ribbon hanging from the tiny glass and the smell of his cologne which reminds me of musk with a dash of black pepper.

Faint sounds of brass and strings pull me from my unconscious state in a flurry.

My brain is working hard, producing series and strings of thoughts. Why did Mr. Jeon Jungkook do that to me? Does Jonathan know where I am? In the same breath, where am I? What was that drink? Have I been poisoned? I look at myself on the red heart-patterned bedsheets. I look fine. There is no sign or feelings that I’ve been harmed, no bruises, and most importantly of all, there is no blood. There is no indicator at all that I’ve been harmed at all, which makes me sigh in relief.

But still, where have I been taken? This surely is not a room in the Suh residence.

A room with no windows, a giant bed in the middle of the room, large wooden pedestals with various wax candles lit drip down the sides surround me, red velvet curtains drape the walls making the warm room seem even more dim, and a wooden swing all decorate the space I find myself trapped in.

I can feel the color drain from my face when I realize that I’ve been here before. In fact, I’ve been here many, many times - almost every night. Not in the flesh but in my dreams. The only thing that is missing are the two men I see every night…

All the little hairs on my body stand at alert, worry coloring my thoughts, and I feign a small gasp in the large room.

With a lump in my throat and my heart thumping so hard I fear it might try to escape my chest, I run from the room.

My blue nightgown flutters behind me, time seems to slow as my bare feet carry me through the rooms from my dreams - though it’s backwards this time. I dash like a mad person, twirling and twisting my way through the room with mirrors on every side, seeing myself panting like a dog running so hard in the reflective glass. Though, I am happy to see I have no scratches upon my face either. I run through the room with clocks hanging all over the walls chiming and ticking at different times, springing through the belly of a giant, tall grandfather clock. I trip over the hems of my dress in the room with a long table in the middle which appears to stretch on for miles in this long room. There are various tea sets, cups, and pots along with tea cakes and sweet treats placed in a perfectly chaotic mess on the table as the eyes of various animal heads stare at me from their places hanging on the walls.

As I shimmy through the small door leading to the room with the walls full of water and sea creatures from the ocean, I pause my panting and sputtering as I spot Mr. Jung Jaehyun with his back pressed up against the glass. He is moaning, panting himself, a masquerade mask dangling in his hand, legs wrapped around the waist of a tall man in a vest who is rolling his hips sensually into his. My eyes widen as I figure out what the two of them are doing quickly and avert my attention. My thighs rub together, a strange fire grows in my lower abdomen, and I know I shouldn’t be looking but there is nothing but pure bliss on Mr. Jung’s face.

I can’t stop, I remind myself as my feet continue to carry me through the rooms I know so well.

Slinking away across a far wall full of lobsters without being caught, I hear Mr. Jung Jaehyun mewl one singular name, “Johnny!” I want to turn around, catch my “future” husband's side profile as he makes love to another man, confirm it’s him, but my mind flashes back to meeting Jaehyun for the first (and only) time and how they touched each other so fondly. Jungkook’s words ring in my words as I hear laughing coming from beyond the rooms filled with tanks and gilled beasts.

Keep going. I can make it out of this place from my nightmares.

The next room is filled with more people, though it’s hazy at best in here. There are giant hookah pipes in the middle of floor cushions, people with and without masks on touching each other so unabashedly, some naked, half-nude, or still in their ball gowns all laying over each other in a pleasure-filled party I was slightly jealous I haven’t been invited to.

“Ms. Y/L/N?” A deep yet clear baritone purrs over the sounds of jazz music and groans of love-making. I turn my head to his voice, feet skidding to a halt as I look at Mr. Kim Namjoon in his half-naked glory, navy blue silk robe hanging off his shoulders exposing a lovely chest, half-lidded eyes tracing my form like I am a piece of delicate meat he wishes to indulge in. “What are you doing without your mask?” He snaps his fingers, chuckling lightly as he takes another drag of his long silver pipe. “Twins, get her a mask!”

“Where am I?” I query as I feel the presence of two figures slowly approaching me out of the dim haze. “Who are you people?” It feels wrong to be here, to witness this. It doesn’t feel right. I feel out of place and my body is begging me to run and my legs tremble like a fawn.

His brows furrow as he takes the tube out of his mouth, blowing smoke rings in my face. “Who are you to question me, Y/N?” He snickers as the “twins” catch my arms, placing a mask over my face as I struggle. “You are but another “Alice” to me. Take her to the ball, you two. The rabbit and the hatter are dying to see her, I’m sure.” They tie the mask around me successfully, leading me out of this room into the next one which I know is the one where the floor is a giant chess board.

“Please,” I plead with the good looking twins who march on like the loyal soldiers to this strange cause, “what is all this?” The music and the chatter and maniacal laughing is growing louder as we prance down the hallway with portraits of people who are dressed in all white and all red. “I just want to know…”

“Suppose we ought to tell her?” The taller of the two says after a moment of silence between the three of us.

“Suppose we ought not to.” The shorter one shakes his head as he carries on in the quest to take me somewhere. “Boss will be mad.”

“You are to be the belle of the ball.” The taller one says with a viscous boxy grin.

“The new “Alice”.” The short one with fluffy lips nods this time.

“Everyone keeps saying that, but I don’t know what it means?” I say as I hold my breath, about to waltz into the strange chess-board-like room.

“The most beautiful, wonderful, talented, special, magical-” The taller twin rambles on.

“The most perfect woman at The Wonderland Ball is called “Alice” until the next one.” The shorter one states softly as he inhales a giant breath. They both let me go, pushing me forward as the drapery of the simple heart-patterned curtain gives way and I am standing at the top of a grand staircase while hundreds of people from below all gasp and stare up at me.

As soon as I regain my footing a spotlight hits me and causes me to shield me eyes away from the bright light bearing down upon me. The upbeat music falls silent and I am acutely aware that I am standing here in my loungewear and not properly dressed to be at the forefront of attention this evening.

“And now the moment you’ve all been waiting for!” The voice that makes my hair stand up on end purrs as his lush lips soothe the microphone on the little stage they’ve set up for the jazz band to play on. Kim Seokjin, my eyes lock with his which dance with mischief, his smile greedy, dressed to the nines in a rich green suit. “The crowning of the belle of the ball, the apple of all our eyes, the one that shines brighter than anyone in the picture shows, Ms. Y/N Y/L/N!”

A roar of cheering, clapping, and brass music erupts as a white haired-man with a stretched, gummy smile that doesn’t fade takes my hand and leads me down the black and white staircase. The noises seemingly die in my ears as the man on my arm says nothing, grins like a cat about to catch a mouse in its claws. Time slows, people moving and waving at me become a blur as I see who is waiting at the bottom of the staircase.

Mr. Jeon Jungkook.

The man on my arm notices how tense I am and he ever so slightly turns his head and says to me in a deep voice, “They are not going to harm you. Jungkook is infatuated with you.” My cheeks heat up. “Seokjin is helping him accomplish his dreams because he signed his life away to the servitude of others for as long as he shall live.”

“Signed his life away?” I breathe, eyes never leaving Jungkook in a white waistcoat.

“You can’t get something for free in this world.” The cat-like man growls as we are almost there. “You’ve heard of an eye for an eye, correct?” I node slightly. “A soul of servitude so he can produce strange magic, according to him and the Red Witch of Underland.”

My heart nearly stops realizing what has happened. “The devil?”

“Bingo, babe.” The cat-man chuckles a deep rasp, sliding his arm away from mine. “Have fun.”

“Now you kids have fun chasing rabbits!” Seokjin’s voice crackles through the microphone. “Everyone, enjoy the last few hours of the wonderland ball!” More hooting and hollering echoes in the building as I am exchanged into Jungkook’s strong arms.

“I thought you’d never make it.” He smiles from under his white mask at me. He takes my hand and leads me to be embraced on the dance floor. Seokjin smirks at us as he begins to sing a popular pop song everyone swoons at.

“Would you like to tell me what this is all about?” I query with a sneer on my lips. “Why am I here? Why have you poisoned me?”

“I have not nor would I ever harm you.” Jungkook grips my waist tighter. “I merely gave you a strong sedative so that I could bring you to our wonderful palace.”

“Why?” I question as he twirls me around his outstretched arm.

“Because from the moment I bumped into you, you have been the only thing consuming my mind.” He earnestly tells me, sorrow coating his eyes. “I’m not sure what trap Johnny has ensnared or tricked you in but I very much hate seeing him lock you away from the world.”

“You’re wrong.” I state angrily, glaring at him.

“He doesn’t care about you. He likes to frolic about with diplomats’ sons, not farmers’ daughters.” Jungkook smiles at me.

“That’s not true…” I mumble, my eyes looking away from his red-rimmed ones boring down upon me. “I-I am marrying Jonathan for my own personal reasons.”

“Oh, ho?” Jungkook softly chuckles, leaning over, turning my gaze back to him as he gently caresses my cheek. “Do you really believe that, darling?”

“I do...I do! I-I came here willingly.” I tremble, my facade I’ve been trying to convince myself of this whole time crackling under the pressure of his words. “I l-love…” My words linger as I look beyond Jungkook, looking up to see, “...Jonathan…” walking toward myself in the middle of the dance floor.

“Jeon!” Jonathan says, Mr. Jung Jaehyun trailing behind him, eyes wide and scared when they find mine. The male in the waistcoat holding me turns his head to the noise, the brass music climaxing, the gasps of people Jonathan is stepping between couples dancing in the soft electric light from above - I feel like my heart is going to burst. My future husband pulls his arm back, fists clenched, ready to hurt Jungkook, and with an exhale I close my eyes fearing the worst was about to ensue.

The electric lights in the strange ballroom give out in the same second.

People scream all around me, a loud thud is heard and I feel like something unexpected is about to occur, the atmosphere heavy and full of invisible pressure.

“Release the jabberwocky!” A voice echoes as chaos ensues.

“Come with me.” A voice purrs, ripping me away from Jungkook’s arms. I feel almost empty as shouting and yelling break out in the middle of the dance floor. “I will protect you, Y/N, my crown jewel.” My stomach pits hearing him say my name, tickling my ear like the serpent that led Eve to eat the apple of her demise.

Kim Seokjin.

With a snap of his fingers, we are back in the room I started out this evening in and where my dreams always have me end at. I land on the bed in a huff and he ends up sitting upon the swing, looking at me with a triumphant smirk on his luscious lips. There is a certain air about him now that doesn’t seem so threatening, so serious now for some reason. Perhaps it’s him sitting upon the swing like that of a child? I haven’t the slightest clue.

“Where am I?” I demand, glowering at Seokjin from across the way.

“Curiosity often leads to trouble, my dearest Y/N.” Seokjin chuckles darkly, eyes roaming my body, a knowing look on his features. “I think before your marriage you are looking for a little trouble, if you catch my drift.”

Trouble…

My mind completely spirals remembering the scenes of people entangled with one another, their mouths working in tandem with each other, their slippery pink tongues entwined in a passionate battle for dominance. Mr. Jung Jaehyun’s face twisted in pleasure, moaning and mewling as his lover - my future husband - was thrusting vigorously.

A lightbulb finally goes off in my head.

“You want me to give into you both then my dreams will end?” My voice shakes as I query to Seokjin who continues to lightly push back and forth on the swing. “Then you will let me leave?”

His eyes flicker with a hungry vigor to them, gleaming in the dim candlelight. “Precisely.” His soft voice cuts the atmosphere like a sharp blade, leaving me with a chill radiating down my spine. “Let’s have some fun, “Alice”.”

“As long as you promise I am to be set free from all of...this.” I gesture around the room as he makes a come hither motion with his fingers at me.

“You have my word.”

Somehow, I don’t believe him, but I am desperate for any way out of this wretched place I can find.

So, I will use the body I was blessed with to the fullest extent.

I am a loyal woman. I step toward the man on the swing, my hands coming up to the ties around my chest and my waist. His eyes spark with a ravenous hunger in the depths of his orbs. I know that I am not doing a decent thing. Seokjin snaps his fingers again, all his clothes disappearing but his green top hat, vanishing before my very eyes. I know I am more than what I am succumbing to right now. But my stomach does feel hot and my thighs rubbing together is making me feel faint for some reason. My garments fall to the floor in a soft patting sound and I lose my breath in the same moment.

Don’t tell me I actually want this…?

I stand in front of him on the swing and I can’t help but bite my lip as my eyes roam his pale figure, tracing down his collarbones to his sculpted abdominal muscles he has been hiding. Did he sell his soul to the devil to become handsome too I wonder?

“So beautiful.” He revels looking at me unabashed, a wolfish grin spreading across his pretty face. Part of me wants him to touch me, to caress the underside of my breast, to trace the outline of my hips with his fingertips, but he doesn not.

I have to remind myself this isn’t for me. This is for the man that has been tormenting me.

“Get me ready for you.” Seokjin commands, smirk still spread across his face. I comply, dropping to my knees to be faced with a large member swinging forth from the middle of his legs on the swing. “And you will address me as “Sir”, understand?”

“Yes, sir.” I respond, biting my lip as I look from his eyes to his member once more.

“Suck.” He chuckles lightly, pointing to his middle and I can’t help but follow this simple instruction.

I don’t tease him, though I’m not really sure I know what I am doing in the first place. I swirl the flat of my tongue over his mushroom-tipped head several times. He moans in response, his hands coming off the swing’s ropes to hold my hair from my face as I swallow him further down my wet cavity. My middle aches and pulses, empty, missing something as I steady myself against Seokjin’s thighs.

“Good little girl.” Seokjin hums, his sound voice making me feel appreciated. The sound vibrating through to my own middle, making me groan around him.

I bob my head up and down his long length, enjoying the way he hums and gasps in response to my efforts. It’s a little hard to breathe I think as I continue my pace, nose hitting Seokjin’s pubic bone, smelling the most intimate part of him.

My dominant hand grabs his member at the base, working him in tandem with my mouth. Up and down his thick member I go, reveling in every twitch and rumble that flies out of his throat. The swing starts to sway with my rhythmic movements, bobbing him back and forth with vigor, tears climb to my eyes. The tip of him hits the back of my mouth, making me gag and choke on his wonderful cock. The heat was pooling in the middle of my stomach and I fear I am going to lose my mind. I pick up the motions of my mouth and hand, tears skating down my pinkened cheeks, his grip tightening around the base of my skull, digging into my scalp.

It burns… But, I also enjoy it. This feeling...so wet and tight and I feel so evil and sinful but the pleasure is driving me mad.

“Baby girl.” There’s warning in his tone as I pop off his cock in an instant, looking up to him with big worried eyes. His head was leaned back, not focused on looking directly at myself, but the feeling of my lips and fingertips. “Up.” He commands once more, head twisting back to a comfortable position to stare at me.

I scramble to my feet, missing the feeling of him in my mouth already, not to mention aching for him in the middle of my legs. I rub my thighs together for some easy friction, knowing that it won’t help me much at this point.

Seokjin moves his hand to stroke against his giant member in his palm and I lock my orbs in place on the slit of his cock where a clear liquid was oozing out. My mind is truly hazy at best, as I just stand there and watch him stroke himself up and down in a lazy fashion. I bite my lip once more.

I do want this. I am almost ashamed to admit that I want this man.

“Are you going to be good and let me use you?” Seokjin’s dirty words make my middle pool and contort with more of a raging fire.

“Y-Yes, sir.” I say again, cheeks hot and damp from sucking his cock moments ago.

His nostrils flare, his cock twitches in his grasp as he motions to sit upon his middle. “I bet you’re so wet for me.” He chuckles, smile darkening with his words.

Seokjin eases me down on his thick member, my hole so wet, so slick, allowing him to stretch my clenching walls in an easy motion. I gasp, eyes popping out of my head. My nails dig into his shoulder blades, back arching with his giant, twitching dick tight inside of me. I wrap my legs around his lean waist, his pale skin flexing in the candlelight with his movements as he stills, letting my hips sink down into the base of his cock.

“Baby girl.” Seokjin purrs, breath tickling my ear as he throbs inside of me. “I need you.” He growls, littering the crook of my neck with sloppy kisses. He positions us just so on the swing, readying us to begin when he deems necessary.

“P-Please use me, s-sir-r!” I mumble in the base of his neck, feeling high on this pleasure-filled pain.

“I live to serve.”

I gasp as he starts moving his hips inside of my center, bucking up into my body with a fevered pace instantly. The swing moves back and forth and I feel like the motion is going to make me feel his body sliding in and out of me too well. I cling to him for dear life, my grip surely bruising him or harming him in some way as he slides in and out of my slicked out center at a brutal rhythm.

Tears find my eyes again as he nips at my neck, marking me up with tender love bites. I’m a howling, moaning mess, losing my sanity. I am finally full of Seokjin’s girth, filling me up beyond desire.

Seokjin kisses my lips then in his, melting our mouths together in a hurry. He holds my face in his palms, grunting and groaning for me, and only me. His tongue enters my mouth in search of something unknown, moaning into my lips laced together with his hot mouth connected with my pink tongue. He rolls his saliva coated tongue into mine in haste, need seeping into my senses, consuming my thoughts as he thrusts up in me, using the swing as a propellant to ease us forward and backward.

“Feels...so-o..good~!” I moan in between our passionate kisses.

Seokjin just growls like a feral animal in response. The tip of his cock kisses my cervix continuously, brushing past a spot inside of me that instantly makes me quake. He rockets himself against me, rutting his body against my core in sync with his hips slamming into mine. Seokjin expels filth from his mouth about filling me to the brim with his seed, seeing my stomach swollen and full of his children, his warm breath hitting my ear making me shudder in response.

I can’t focus, my climax getting ready to pop at any moment. Wet noises fill the dark room, as Seokjin’s rough speed of his length in and out of my molten, wet center continues. My erect nipples swirl on his pale chest, circling quickly as he bounces me up and down his giant cock, swinging through the air like some sexual trapeze artist.

“Are you going to be good to me?” He asks me, smirk present in his tone, pace almost blinding now as he pushes in and out of me with a need so heavy and strong I can practically smell it rising from his skin. “Are you going to let me fill you up, my little doll?” Seokjin snarls into my skin.

“Pleaseeeee!” I practically scream, eyes flying open as he hits my center at just the right spot that makes me see white.

“Ah-ah!” He tsks. “What do we say?”

“Please, sir!” I mewl and gasp, thighs quaking in his hold, my juices squelching out of me as he continues to thrust into my sensitive molten core. “Seokjin!” I cry while he growls into the scorching skin of my neck inhaling sharply as he slams his hips into my shivering body. “Sir!”

Seokjin grunts, cock spurting his seed into me with a need so raw, so feral he finds his footing hard to maintain on the swing, stilling us from moving about, holding my hips tightly down upon him. He sucks harshly on my skin as he too shudders and grunts, biting down on the crook of my neck, stretching my clenching walls around his member as he fills me with his hot white seed.

My cries of pleasure fill the small room, my pleasure-filled haze coming to a close as Seokjin shifts us - still joined together - to the bed in the middle of the room. I hold onto Seokjin as he keeps his seed inside of me, feeling like I just had the ride of my life on top of him. My climax dies down, my first high fading away, fog around my brain being lifted temporarily as my nails rake over shoulders I’ve definitely marked up.

A cool, damp towel appears with a wave of his arms, stroking my middle with it delicately cleaning up the mess I’ve made. “How does it feel to be connected with the devil?” Seokjin sneers as he pulls out of me, making my center ache and twitch for him.

My eyes grow wide and my lips part but before I can say anything Jungkook bursts in the room.

“Am I late?” Jungkook pants as he looks awestruck by me on the bed.

“For a very important date.” I gaze back to Seokjin who is now fully dressed, smirking that soft, playful smile like he usually does at Mr. Jeon. “Don’t worry, I was just getting her ready for you, Jungkookie.”

Jungkook eyes him with narrowed orbs, but buys the lie Seokjin is selling and proceeds to strip himself of his white waistcoat. “What is on the menu tonight?” His red-rimmed irises bore into mine and I feel self-conscious suddenly. He circles the bed in the manner like that of a wolf would as he finishes stripping himself of any dressy garments, though his slacks remain on.

“The one you most desire out of everything in this world.” Seokjin purrs, stepping up to take his seat on his pedestal high above us.

Is he going to watch us?

“Fuck,” Jungkook growls, dropping to his knees in front of the bed suddenly. He pulls me closer to him by my ankles, throwing my thighs apart so my center is exposed to him in the rawest form. He stares at my glistening middle as I try to close my legs with a little, pathetic whimper.

“Don’t.” The rabbit-like man moans wantonly, holding onto my ankles loosely. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful, you know that, right?” His hands glide up my thighs achingly slow, holding me in pace for his eyes to ravage as they please.

The fire in my lower stomach has returned, hungry and ready to go for more.

His warm fingertips make it to my inner thighs, kneading the flesh there tenderly, so close to my throbbing core that I almost beg him with a cry to dip down into me, but I refrain, hanging on to every trace or brush of his hands against my scorching flesh.

“What do you want, my darling?” He groans into my inner thigh, lips ghosting my sensitive flesh there, inching closer to my heated skin with his upper body.

“Please.” I finally ask, begging, almost choking out the word, forgetting Seokjin watching us from above.

His dominant hand finally finds my nether lips, tracing them up and down with his two longest fingers but not exactly touching me where I am aching quite yet. “Please what?” He teases, stroking me up and down slowly, holding his feral gaze in mine, amber eyes seemingly on fire.

“Please, Jungko-“

He slaps my middle with little force or malice behind it, but I jolt, mewling aloud, wanting him to secretly do it again.

Jungkook goes back to tracing my lips in the middle of my body, smug smirk seated on his devilishly handsome face. “You are so wet, darling.” He slaps me again, though this time I want it more than I’d actually care to admit.

“Jung-” I choke on my words.

He slaps me again, this time with slightly more force behind his fingertips. I hiss out a breath, staring at him with my mouth slightly ajar, brows turned up, looking down at him with half-lidded eyes already.

“I have to have a taste.” He kisses my inner thigh as he slowly traces his thumb over my slicked out folds.

I let out a wanton cry as he hums into my thighs, growling low and deep. I swear there’s a smile in his voice as he works with his mouth and fingertip in tandem. “Mine.” He breathes, sucking on the sensitive flesh of my innermost thigh, marking me with a throaty growl.

“J-Jungkook..!”

I am a mess. I let loose a series of pants, breathless moans as he works my coil in the pit of my stomach tighter with every brush or groan he grants my hot body. I am melting under Jungkook’s touch, my body feeling sticky, arousal dripping from my middle while he circles my delicate clit.

His thumb was increasing his pace of gliding over my bundle of nerves, still slow, still making my breathing become erratic, but the desire for Jungkook to do more was driving me insane. I’ve had a taste of sex and look at me wanting more. I didn’t know if I could be in the position to ask for more. But I wanted him to place those perfect, beautiful sinful lips on my molten core. Jungkook’s breath fans over my middle as he continues to stroke me down there.

I miss the twitch confined to the middle of his pants from the man watching us from above with eager need.

As if sensing my need, his tongue swipes a slow stripe through my folds, the cool of his muscle against my exposed center making me black out for a moment, the sensation far too much for me to bear with right now. His snort of laughter brings me back to reality as he swirls his pink tongue at my empty entrance.

Jungkook laps at my folds as if he is a starved man, hungry, desperate for his next meal. I keen, gripping onto the base of his golden torso as laps at me. I’d think grounding myself on top of Jungkook’s head would make me saner, gripping his strands of hair as he goes to town in my middle. But really, it makes me feel completely mad, like I’ve gone insane.

The feral, untamed animal-like noises that escape his throat drive me absolutely wild, my skin on fire with need and want. My nails cling to his scalp, dragging him closer to my middle as he ravages my core. He maneuvers his two longest fingers through the glossy slick, lubing his digits to breach my entrance.

“Jungkook!” I gasp, choking on my words as he makes a come hither motion with his fingers, splitting my velvet walls to open for him.

Jungkook swirls his tongue over my little pearl of sensitive nerves, lapping and sucking my flesh like he's never eaten a thing in his life. He continues his very audible growling and moaning, husk in his voice incredibly thick.

“Let go, baby.” He coos into my middle as I jolt and shake, his digits brushing past the most delicious spot deep inside of my clenching walls. “Give me your release.”

His words finally tip me over the edge.

I tighten my hold on him, gritting my teeth in the process. My head falls backward on the sheets, eyes screwed closed as Jungkook slurps every inch of my middle clean, not leaving anything to go to waste.

“Kookie,” I sputter out, the feeling of his tongue and fingers becoming too much for me. “I-I’m c-c-cumming-!”

As I say the last of my words, the world comes undone around me for the second time today, my tight coil finally popping. Blinding white stars coat my vision for a second, my body shivering and shaking as I drip out onto the flat of Jungkook’s tongue.

He laps up my sensitive hole up with more snarls, more feral noises escaping his body. Tears flow down my face as I unhinge my nails from his silky blonde strands, trying to push him away from my overly sensitive flesh with pathetic mewls of protest escaping my throat.

More. My brian prompts me to continue to sate my undying lust burning inside of me. I need more.

“Jungkook,” I beg while his tongue still explores my throbbing hole, giving my sensitive skin rapt attention. “Jungkookie. Please. I c-can’t.” I tug at his blinde hair gently, trying to get him to stop teasing me with his tongue.

He doesn't stop and I can only think of one thing to ask before I lose my damn mind with him between my thighs.

“Jungkook.” I shudder, high building up once more. “Please fuck me.”

Everything in the room stills, the only sound heard was our heavy breathing.

He looks up from my sensitive core, brows knit together as he looks into my eyes with such a passionate gaze of uncertainty. My juices were coating the bottom half of his face, his blonde hair is in a state of disarray, as he proceeds to slowly rise to his feet, looking over me on the bed.

“What?” He questions incredulously down at my fucked out form. Jungkook looks at me as if I am the most fragile thing in the world, as if I would burst into flames at any moment. “My darling, my love, there’s no going back if we-“

“I know.” I smirk up to the gorgeous gangster in all of the Windy City. “I want this too.”

His nostrils flare, his eyes widen, and his gaze softens. Jungkook looks down at me with something akin to lust, which makes my heart rate increase...

“Up.” He commands, raw husk pouring out of his tone as he starts to undo his pants, the zipper noise almost jarring in the quiet of the night.

I do as I’m told. I’ve fallen far down the rabbit hole now, I think as I shift on the bed. Standing was a little difficult as he’s just given me one of the best feelings I’ve ever had. I keep my eyes glued to Jungkook. His hands travel sensually down his tiny waist to his slacks he unbuttons. I am gasping, unable to take my eyes off the very beautiful sight of his thick cock bouncing, finally free from the confines of his dress pants. The tip was red and angry, a bead of precum adorning the slit of his mushroom-like head. He was long, girthy, and I want nothing more than it inside of myself at this very moment.

Jungkook grips the base of his cock with his hand while he steps out of his pants, giving his shaft a few pumps up and down while I watch with an open mouth.

“I’ve dreamt of this moment for so long.” He confesses softly, reaching for me with his free hand. I inch closer to him, gliding my hands over his defined body, admiring his lithe, yet sturdy frame. My fingers hungrily trace every ridge, every contour of his golden torso. Jungkook was so warm, so wonderful, and I am slightly kicking myself for not giving into him sooner. “To have you,” he continues, kissing up the side of my neck.

“Please.” I beg him again, eyes flickering back and forth between his.

“Turn around.” He leans in to kiss me with passionate need. His lips molding into mine as I cling to him for more. I taste my essence on his tongue which makes me whimper into his strong hold. “I’m going to fuck you now, my love.”

Again, I don’t need to be told twice as he guides me to where he wants me, bending me at the waist so my fingers dig into the unkept sheets below, my backside open and exposed to him.

“So pretty for me.” I hear the grin in his deep rumble. Jungkook slaps my bottom, granting him a hiss to escape my throat. I whine when he does it softly several more times, making my head soar.

I hear him spit before I feel the extra saliva lubricant coat my backside, the cool of his juices combined with mine was driving me up a wall.

“Jungkook!” I gasp.

He groans when I call for him, pushing his fat head of a cock at my aching, empty hole, wanting him to finally join the two of us.

“Darling,” he sounds like he’s straining to hold back. “Baby, please, fuck!” He grunts, splitting my walls inch by agonizingly slowly. I moan as he stretches me wide, entering me like he owns me.

He thrusts inside of me all the way with one snap of his hips suddenly. A cry leaves my lips along with a strangled one from the man inside of me. My eyes widen as I realize that he’s not going to go easy on me tonight, he’s going to fuck me on his terms. I was in for a wild ride this evening.

Jungkook leans the front of himself over my sticky back, pressing our heated flesh together more, growling to the outside shell of my ear, nipping the flesh under my lobe while sliding in and out of me with a brutal pace he’s set.

“Baby…” he moans in my ear, the deep purr vibrating throughout his body making my breathing hitch and sob. His hips snapping into mine with a rhythm, I swear, no human man could ever achieve. Liquid was flowing down my eyes as the push and pull of Jungkook slamming his giant cock into my velvet folds repeatedly already had me tearing the sheets in two with my nails.

“Jung! Ah! Kook!”

Seokjin glides his hand over his cock from above the bed, matching the rhythm Jungkook’s hips produce, enjoying the wonderful show.

I gasp this over and over like a prayer falling from my lips. My eyes are squeezed shut, my body hot with the raw purpose to feel Jugnkook inside of my heated center. His cock pushes in and out of me at a fevered pace, making my vision blur, seeing far too many white stars.

My brain is fuzzy as he hits the spot inside of me that blinds me, pleasure swimming in my veins. My third climax was surely on the way.

“Baby,” Jungkook grunts, one of his arms snaking up my torso, his long fingers finding one of my bouncing breasts. He starts pinching my erect nipple, holding on to me tighter as we slide back and forth off of one another.

My coil was wound so tight, I don’t know if I’d be able to last much longer. Especially not with Jungkook’s fingers attaching to my hardened nipple, his lips to the crook of my neck, and his cock slamming in and out of my clenching middle with a fevered need.

He bucks into me faster, my walls clamping down on him, my coil about to pop, about to burst forth again. I can’t hold myself up any longer, my legs shaking violently. My knuckles are turning white with how hard I am clawing at the heart patterned sheets.

“Jungkook! I-“ I mewl, but I don’t get to finish my thought.

In a split second, Jungkook pulls out of my middle, flipping me over and letting me fall onto my back so I could be face to face with him. Jungkook climbs on top of me quickly, wanting to resume his feverish pace immediately, hunger and need in his amber gaze. He settles between my legs, pushing himself back into my slicked out center easily, restarting from where he last left off.

I gasp when he enters me, clinging to his shoulders, holding him while the lewd squelching noises in the room continue to grow, faster, louder. He grips onto my hips, guiding me at a blinding speed I didn’t know he could achieve. Is he a victim of the devil as well?

Sweat was pouring off our bodies, my brain unable to produce a sane thought as he grunts and moans my name, his red orbs never leaving my face as he rockets his cock into my folds like it was his job.

It happens again, the very right feeling deep inside of my body, the one that makes me grit my teeth, that makes me see hundreds of tiny white stars.

“Jung! Kook~!” I scream into the quiet room, tears flowing from my hues as I card my fingers through his blonde strands, trying to make a purchase on his roots.

My hands travel down his backside as he snarls, “I’m going to make you my wife! Not some wannabe from the Northside!” Jungkook huffs, his movements slowing down, one of his thumbs finding my folds again, circling my aching clit in hurry - a stark contrast to earlier. “I’m going to claim you as my own.”

Seokjin smiles like he’s just won the lottery, masturbating to the sight of both his clients intertwined, fucking onto each other with unbridled lust. He comes then watching his new toy’s back arch, breasts in the air, Jungkook’s frame pounding into her with hungry trepidation.

I grab onto the ample flesh of his bottom, feeling the world come tumbling around myself once more. Letting my body shake and quake on top of the sheets, my third orgasm taking me by force. I feel complete - feel whole for some reason. I am so completely taken aback with the storm rippling through my body in pleasureful tremors, one right after the other, I cannot even begin to breathe properly.

He lets a feral snarl rip through his body as he pumps into my leaking middle a few more times, my whole being consumed by Jungkook. He leans over me, sucking my neck colors of purples and dark reds and I scream as his cock swells inside of my velvet walls, releasing his own essence into my womb, holding him there like a vice grip as he spurts his seed deep inside of me.

Once our highs come to a close, I run my fingers through his hair, his throbbing cock still joined inside of my middle. We both pant, holding the other for dear life, finally together, and fulfilled with one other. Jungkook kisses along my jaw, moaning my name, telling me what an amazing baby doll I am as his cock finally softens inside of my aching cunt.

“Bravo.” Seokjin claps as he walks down the wooden stairs. “You both did very well!” He chuckles darkly. I squeak in surprise. I forgot he was there and I scramble to cover myself with the soiled sheets.

“Okay, Kim,” Jungkook says as he kisses my nose, pulling out and picking up my clothes and handing them to me. He dresses in his undergarments and dress pants quickly, buttoning them up as he turns to the man all in green. “You had your show.” I listen as I dress myself with haste, back turned to the two men. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked: invested the money overseas, gotten rid of the competition and family in this lovely city, got you a new “Alice”, and even let you watch us play ball. I think it’s time to set us free.”

“Yes,” the mad man snickers, darkness clouding his tone, “you both have served me well. But nobody is leaving my perfectly curated speakeasy.”

I turn around and my heart is dropping to the floor. Shock is written all over Jungkook’s face as I clench my jaw in guilt.

“But, I’m afraid you both made a deal with me, and I don’t give up my new toys so easily.” Seokjin caresses Jungkook’s face in his pale hand, while holding my gaze with a sense of gentle anger. “You can’t always get what you want. But hey, look on the bright side: at least you have each other.”

---

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this trip down the rabbit hole! Likes and reblogs are very much appreciated!

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study-coffee-chicago · 3 years

Text

Safe (Home Worker Jay, Social Worker Hailey; Part of AU-gust) {Please Re-Read; Made Changes}

A/N: After some confusion, I changed the home to resemble more of Brady (Chicago PD 4x13). So if you guys wouldn't mind rereading and liking/reblogging again, that'd be great! Thank you for reading! Remember to like/reblog and comment! I'm also donating all the proceeds that from my buy me a coffee account to Save The Children to help the children of Afghanistan. Link to buy me a coffee.

Masterlist

Jay walked down the long, dimly lit hallway and peeked into each girls' room. Because of the dim light in the hallway, there was no need to utilize the flashlight he carried with him and shin it on the floor of each room to make sure that each girl was there. He continued peeked in rooms to make sure that each girl appeared asleep. But then, he got to your room.

You were sitting on your bed, visibly shaking and covering your mouth with your hand so that your sobs wouldn't wake up the girls in the rooms next to you.

Jay quickly went to the last room and checked to make sure that all the other girls appeared asleep and then scribbled down on the piece of paper attached to his clipboard that all the girls appeared asleep...except for you.

He knocked softly on your door and you jumped. He gave a small wave and pointed inside your room, silently asking if he could come in. You didn't have much control in the girls' home you were in, so the staff was always trying to give you as much control as possible...even though you needed staff to wait outside the bathroom for you since there was a time limit, and needed them to unlock doors which were closed, since they automatically locked, hence all of your bedroom doors being propped open because staff needed to do bed checks and make sure you and the other girls were okay and where you were supposed to be.

You nodded, allowing Jay to enter your room.

"Can I turn this on?" he asked, pointing to the small lamp on your desk.

"Sure," you answered as you wiped the tears on your cheeks and drew your knees up to your chest, and then hugged them to your body.

Jay crouched in front of you. "What's wrong?" he asked. "We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. We can just go out into the common area so you can calm down a bit and go back to sleep. Or the kitchen if you need a snack or water," he offered.

"Can I- Can I get some water?" you asked.

"Of course," Jay answered. "Do you want to come with me?"

You nodded and picked up your water bottle. You also grabbed your blanket. Jay was going to tell you to leave it on your bed, but seeing how distraught you were, he decided against it.

"You want ice?" he asked as the two of you walked to the kitchen. He unlocked the door and you followed him in.

"Yes, please," you told him and then handed him your water bottle.

"Okay, I can do that."

You stood in the kitchen area while Jay unlocked another door to get to the freezer. He propped the door open with the doorstop and then opened the freezer and put ice in your water bottle. Then he closed the freezer, kicked the doorstop away, and then walked out and closed the door behind him. Then, he grabbed you some water, screwed on the lid, handed it back to you, and the two of you left the kitchen.

"Can I stay out here for a while?" you asked quietly after you had taken a few sips of the cold water.

"You can. Just give me a minute to text Kim, okay?" he answered.

"Okay." You pulled out a chair at the table and sat down, tears still coming down your face, but a lot slower than earlier.

Seeing as there was only three staff at the home tonight and Jay had to do bed checks for his hallway, he had to text Kim to let him know that one, he was in the dining area with you because you were upset about something, and two ask her if she could do his section of bed checks until he got you to calm down and got you back in bed.

She answered quickly and said that she could do that and thanks for letting her know.

Jay put his phone away and turned his full attention to you.

"What's got you so upset?" he asked gently after he sat down next to you.

"I have a home visit tomorrow with Hailey. My first overnight one," you answered.

"Hey, that's a good thing! You're getting adopted soon!"

"But they always fall through!" you cried. "And what if I have a nightmare when I'm there?"

"Hey, hey," Jay soothed. "We'll pack your meds and you should be fine."

"But what if she doesn't want me after this home visit?"

"Y/N, I need you to listen to me." You looked at him. "Hailey's nervous too, but it's okay to be nervous because that means you're about to do something really, really brave."

"Really? She's nervous? But it's her house?"

"Mhm, it's not just you who's nervous. The adoptive parents are nervous, too because they want everything to go well just as much as you do."

You looked up at him nervously while pushing the straw of your water bottle back and forth. "Will you be there?" you asked.

He cocked his head to the side. "Will I be where?"

"At Hailey's," you stated simply.

"Why would I be there?"

"Jay, everyone knows you two are dating."

That was one thing about being a man who worked in a unit with a bunch of female coworkers and girls he had to take care of: the gossip was astronomical...even though the staff did try their best to keep it to a minimum.

"I mean, I won't dispute that fact," he began, "but I wasn't planning on being over at Hailey's tomorrow night."

"Please?" you asked. He had a confused look on his face. "Please will you stay at Hailey's tomorrow, too? You- you both make me feel safe and if something happens to either of you..."

"You want there to be another person you trust around?" he finished.

"Yes, please."

"Okay," Jay relented. "I'll talk to Hailey."

"Okay."

"Are you ready to go back to bed?" he asked.

You nodded and you went back to bed, hopeful that Jay would be at Hailey's tomorrow because then there would be two of the people you trusted most in the world. Jay was one of your favorite staff members...mostly because he rarely disciplined you and the other girls and was always approachable when you wanted to talk about anything that was going on in your head.

***

"I need to do a bag check," Kim said. You handed her your bag to check so that she could jot down what you brought with you to make sure you brought all your clothing, toiletries, and comfort items back from your overnight home visit with Hailey (and Jay).

Once she checked your bag, she handed it back to you and then turned to Hailey. "She's good to go once I get you her meds. Some need to be taken in the morning and some in the evening. Don't worry, I wrote evening and morning on the med envelopes so that you don't get them mixed up."

Hailey nodded and then Kim went to get your meds.

"You nervous?" Hailey asked you.

You looked down at your feet. "Did Jay tell you I was?"

"He didn't," Hailey said. "But, you wanna know a secret?" You nodded. "I'm a little nervous, too."

"Jay told me you were," you said.

"He's good at making people feel better, isn't he?"

"He is."

"He also mentioned that you wanted him there tonight? Do you want him to come out to dinner with us, too?" she asked.

"If that's okay with you."

"Totally fine!"

Kim came back and handed Hailey your envelopes of meds and then the two of you were off.

***

Dinner had come and gone. You went to Olive Garden where Jay met you and Hailey there. You had decided to get fettuccine alfredo and Jay and Hailey both said that you could eat as much salad and breadsticks as you wanted. They even let you get dessert!

You went back to Hailey's house and were shocked to see how nice your room was, and it was a lot bigger than the one at the home you lived at and the one Jay worked at. It was simple, but you loved it. It had a full-sized bed with a fluffy white comforter, a desk, a bookshelf (which Hailey said that you guys could go to a bookstore tomorrow so that the bookshelf didn't look do empty), a dresser, and a closet. Hailey also said when you officially moved in in two weeks, you could go shopping for more decorations so that your room wasn't so undecorated...even though you were totally floored by it the way it was now.

Hailey made sure to give you your meds promptly at 8 pm. Then, you watched a movie, the three of you had decided to watch Tangled because Jay knew it was a good bet since it was PG and not PG-13 and if you had to choose your favorite Disney princess movie, that'd probably be it. And because some things in PG-13 movies could be triggering...for obvious reasons.

When the movie was almost done, your stomach started to hurt, but you just chalked it up to nerves because you knew you'd be sleeping soon...and that was always the worst part.

Luckily for you, Hailey had a boombox that she let you use for music. You didn't have a phone or mp3 player and at the home, everyone was given their own small radio when they came. As a peace offering of sorts from the staff to the girls. But, you forgot it for your home visit with Hailey.

"Goodnight," you said after you filled up your water bottle.

"Goodnight," both Hailey and Jay said. They said that you could wake them up any time if you needed absolutely anything. But, you hoped you wouldn't need to.

You fell into a fitful sleep, tossing and turning in both anxiousness and from the pain in your stomach. God, maybe that pasta, all those breadsticks, and dessert hadn't been as great of an idea as you had previously thought.

***

Okay, so all that food most definitely was not a great idea. Soft groans were coming out of your mouth as you tried to get comfortable and move your body around so that you didn't feel the pain in your stomach anymore.

You needed to go to the bathroom and you needed it now, so you needed to hurry so that Jay could wait outside the bathroom for you since you needed to let him know where you were going and would only get a certain amount of time in the bathroom.

You grabbed your water and slowly walked so that you didn't irritate your stomach even more. There was a lamp on in the living room, which showed you that Jay was asleep on the couch.

You padded over to the couch. "Jay," you whispered.

"Hmm?" Jay asked and rubbed his eyes.

"Can you come with me to the bathroom, please?"

He sat up. "Oh, Y/N, you're at home you don't have to ask."

"Oh, sorry," you quickly apologized. "Sorry for waking you up." You were so used to having someone have to accompany you to the bathroom or unlock certain doors for you, that it was going to take you a while to break that habit...especially when you were tired and not feeling so hot while also being in a new place.

"It's no big deal. I slept out here in case you needed anything anyways. It's what I'm here for."

Your stomach made a noise and then you felt bile rise in your throat. You stiffened.

Jay heard your stomach and noticed your drastic change in posture. "Y/N, what's--"

You covered your mouth and took off running toward the bathroom that was across from your bedroom.

"Shit," Jay muttered and followed you, but a lot slower.

Once you got to the bathroom, you threw the lid of the toilet open and threw yourself to your knees, just in time to empty your stomach.

Jay crouched down next to you. "I'm gonna hold your hair back, okay?"

"Uh huh," you croaked. You knew that if you didn't say yes, Jay wouldn't have held your hair back. In his job, he was trained to go along with the girls' boundaries and to not touch them unless he verbally asked them and got verbal confirmation from you girls that that said physical contact was okay.

Jay gently held your hair back while you continued to retch and spill the contents of your stomach.

"There you go," he soothed. "I'm right here. You're not alone."

When you thought you were done, you reached up and flushed the toilet. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. I'm gonna go wake up Hailey just to tell her what's going on. Feel free to get some water or brush your teeth."

You nodded and he left the bathroom. When you picked up your toothbrush, you realized what had just happened: someone had just comforted you when you were sick. That never happened before.

A tear rolled down your cheek just as Jay came back into the bathroom with Hailey.

"Oh, Y/N," she started as she walked up to you. "How bad does it hurt?"

"No, it doesn't hurt now," you said. "I just, I never had anyone comfort me or hold my hair back when I was sick before."

"Oh, honey," Hailey said as her heart broke. Then, she caught herself. "Is that one fine?" she asked, referring to pet names. She didn't want to trigger you.

"Th-That ones fine," you answered.

"Can I give you a hug?"

"Yeah," you whispered and opened your arms so that you could hug her.

"You're feeling a lot better?" Jay asked and you looked up from hugging Hailey and nodded. "So, no doctor?"

You abruptly pulled away from Hailey and backed away from both the adults. "No, no doctor. Please no doctor. Please," you pleaded.

Jay furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, but Hailey's eyes widened as she realized what he had just said.

"Honey, no, we are not taking you to the doctor, okay?" Hailey began. "We know you're feeling better, but we're just going to give you some Tums in case your stomach starts to hurt again."

"So no doctor?" you asked.

"No doctor," she confirmed.

"Thank you. I think I'm gonna brush my teeth now. My mouth tastes gross."

"Okay. Come out whenever you're ready."

Hailey reached for Jay's hand and led him out of the bathroom. He still had a look of confusion on his face while she grabbed two Tums and set them next to a cup of water for you.

"What does she mean no doctor?" Jay asked in a hushed voice.

"You know she was trafficked by her own parents, right?" Jay nodded, he had to read all the girls files when they got new girls in, but some information was left out because it could still be in the court process, or because it had something to do with family where a parent still had legal custody of the girl or for other reasons. Hailey's voice got even quieter. "A doctor was one who would you know...pay for services, um, regularly."

"So now she doesn't think she can trust any doctor," Jay finished.

"Yeah. She told me a few weeks ago. I think I'm the only one who knows that her doctor had been one of the people assaulting her."

"Now it makes sense that she had to be restrained when we told her she had to go to the doctor's for a check-up three months ago. We all just thought that she didn't want to go, but she was just really scared."

"She was a danger to herself and others," Hailey said. "You did the right thing by using restraints, even if you didn't know the reason she was acting out."

"Still, I wish I would've known. That way maybe we could've eased into talking about it more instead of just telling her she'd be going. And, she actually might've gone to the check-up if we did it that way."

"There was no way you could've known."

"I know, still makes me feel bad." He took a deep, shaky breath. "God, we take it for granted so much that we'll have at least one parent there for us, to hold our hair back and comfort us when we're sick. But, Y/N didn't have anyone, Hailey."

A few tears ran down Jay's face.

"I know," Hailey said and pulled him into a hug. "I know. But, this is what we do. In our jobs, we help these girls. We do this because we want to make the world a better and safer place for these girls, to help break the cycle. Lord knows we don't do it for the money. And, soon we'll be helping her even more. Together. Here. At home."

"You're excited for when the adoption goes through, aren't you, Hails?" Jay asked.

"Yeah, I never wanted kids because, well you know my past history with my parents, but working with kids in social work and seeing how many of them go through multiple foster homes and other types of homes and then just age out..."

"I know, I know," Jay sympathized. "We talked about this. And you felt drawn to Y/N. I'll be there through it all with you."

"Thank you. I love you, Jay."

"I love you, too, Hails."

You sighed and then made your way into the kitchen. You didn't want to be in trouble.

"Are these the medicine?" you asked, pointing to the table where the Tums and the cup of water were.

"Yes," Hailey answered. "They're dissolvable, but I didn't know how you would like the taste, so I put the water there just in case."

Jay looked at you closely. "Hey, are you okay? Is your stomach hurting again?"

You shook your head and sat down and then took the two tablets and drank a few sips of water after.

"Just ti- tired," your voice cracked halfway through the word, immediately alerting both Jay and Hailey that something was wrong.

Jay crouched down in front of you and Hailey sat down across from you as you let out a wail.

"You're mad, you're mad, you're mad!" you bawled.

"Neither of us is mad," Hailey told you softly.

"Jay's mad! I woke him up!"

"I'm not mad, Y/N, not one bit. You're allowed to wake me and Hailey up whenever you need us or even if you just want some comfort, okay?" Jay asked as his heart broke.

"Who told you that they were mad when you woke them up?" Hailey asked gently. With her job, she knew she needed to ask some tough questions in general, but, specifically with you, she also needed to get more of your history than she already had so that she knew what your triggers were and how to help you with coping skills and other things that were beneficial to your mental health when you moved in with her.

"My parents and my first foster parents," you whispered.

"Okay," Hailey started, "I'm sorry that happened to you. We're sorry that happened to you. And we can promise you that neither of us will hit you or raise our voices at you."

At the mention of you having been hit in your past, Jay looked up at Hailey and she gave him a subtle nod, silently telling you that that had been a part of your past. He knew your parents were unfit because both their parental rights had been terminated, but he didn't know details...and now he was receiving those heartbreaking details from his girlfriend, who you seemed to open up to more than anyone else. Well, more than anyone besides the in-house therapist.

"You promise?" you asked, finally looking up from where you had your eyes trained on the table.

"I promise," said Hailey.

"You have my word," Jay echoed. He paused a few moments to let those promises sink in. "Now, if Hailey's okay with it, I say we watch another movie until you get tired. What do you say, Hails?"

"I think we can make an exception," she agreed.

"Okay, what movie?" Jay asked.

"Can we watch the Jumanji remake?" you asked. "The one with the Rock. I know it's PG-13, but it doesn't seem that bad."

Jay nodded. "Well, if anything triggers you, you just need to tell either me or Hailey so we can help you process it right away, okay?" You nodded. He looked at Hailey. "You good with Jumanji?" he asked with a humorous glint in his eye because he already knew the answer: his girl loved any movie that The Rock was in.

"Jay, you know I love The Rock. You wanna get it set up while I grab Y/N's pillow from her room?"

Jay said okay and the two of you made your way to the living room. Jay moved his pillow over so that he and Hailey could sit on the couch, while you sat on the smaller couch across from them.

Hailey came back with your pillow and a few blankets and you got all set up.

Not even halfway through the movie, you were asleep once again. But this time, your stomach ache was gone and you felt safer and more comfortable than when you had first walked into Hailey's house earlier that day.

***

"Quiet, Hails, she's still out," Jay whispered to his girlfriend as they walked out of their bedroom the next morning.

You were knocked out on the couch after getting sick and anxious last night. And Jay had decided just to go sleep with Hailey last night after everything that had happened because they were both emotionally drained and needed the other's comfort to go to sleep after Hailey had told Jay a part of your story that he hadn't known.

"What does she normally eat for breakfast?" Hailey whispered.

Jay worked a mix of first, second, and third shifts at the home, so he knew what you'd normally eat for breakfast and that after school you needed some time to recharge in your room after being with other kids all day.

"Normally bagels and cream cheese. Sometimes a banana too," Jay whispered back.

"Perfect. I don't have to cook a ton. Want me to start on coffee and then we can just drink it at the table and wait until she wakes up?"

"Sounds good to me. Don't forget her morning meds."

"I know, Jay."

"Just checking."

***

You woke up to see Jay and Hailey sitting at the table drinking something out of mugs, which you assumed was coffee.

You stretched and then got up off the couch. You remembered watching another movie last night, but don't remember finishing it, so you must've fallen asleep there and Jay and Hailey just decided to let you sleep instead of waking you up.

"Good morning," you said as you got up off the couch. "What time is it?"

Jay craned his neck to look at the clock on the oven. "8:45," he answered. "Time for your morning meds, too."

He started to stand up, but Hailey stopped him. "I got it. I need to make sure I have this down, so do you just want to cut up a bagel and pop it in the toaster? There should be chocolate chip ones in the fridge," Hailey told Jay.

"You have chocolate chip bagels?" You asked as a smile broke out on your face. "We don't have chocolate chip ones at the house."

"And, I have regular cream cheese and strawberry cream cheese, so take your pick." She paused. "Your stomach's feeling better though, right? I don't know if I want you eating this stuff if you're just gonna get sick again."

"It's not hurting anymore. I think I just ate too much," you answered. "But if you want me to eat something else—"

"Oh no," Hailey quickly cut you off. "You can eat whatever you want."

Hailey walked over to get the meds ready and Jay cut a chocolate chip bagel in half and popped it in the toaster.

"Hails, you want one?" Jay asked.

"That'd be great. Thanks, ba- Jay." She almost called him babe but didn't know if that would trigger you, so she immediately cut herself off.

"Are you gonna have one, too, Jay?" you asked.

"No, I think I'm gonna make myself some eggs," he answered you while he cut a chocolate chip bagel in half for Hailey.

"He's such a health nut," Hailey laughed as she rolled her eyes. Then, she made her way to the table and handed you a cup with your meds in it and a cup of water. You quickly took the meds and washed all of them down with the water.

"We know," you laughed as you handed the med cup back to Hailey. "He always brings his own meals to the house. And they're always salads or something else really healthy." You wrinkled your nose.

"I know, he's weird," Hailey agreed.

Then, Jay told you that your bagel was done, so you walked over to the counter and used a plastic knife to spread some strawberry cream cheese on it.

Jay's phone buzzed and he groaned. "My brother wants to meet up for lunch today."

"Well, if Y/N's comfortable with it, maybe he'd like to meet us at the bookstore and then we can all go to lunch or just meet us for lunch?" Hailey suggested.

"You're letting me decide?" You had never had this much control over anything in your life.

"Of course," Hailey began, "we want you to be comfortable with whatever you're doing."

You turned to Jay, whose attention was still on you and Hailey while he scrambled his eggs in a pan over the stove. "Is he nice?"

"Oh yeah," Jay said. "He's super nice. His name's Will and I'll even tell him to be on his very best behavior."

"Okay. Can we just have him meet us for lunch?"

"Of course," Jay agreed. "I'll shoot him a text."

***

"What kind of books do you like?" Hailey asked.

You looked up at Jay. "You didn't tell her that?"

"Nope. Some stuff I can keep a secret," he answered with a wink.

Hailey smacked him on the chest. "Jay Halstead. You are the absolute worst."

"But you love me. And you know it." Jay gave her a kiss on the cheek and you burst out laughing. "What?"

"You two. You're just so cute."

"Hear that, Hails? Y/N thinks we're a cute couple."

"Oh, quit your bragging," Hailey said and rolled her eyes. "Anyway, what's your favorite genre?"

"Uh, I really like historical fiction," you answered.

"Alright," Jay started, "towards the historical fiction we go."

"Oh, and if we go to that section, we pass their little cafe," Hailey told you. "You up for a hot chocolate or pastry?" she asked.

"You don't have to get me anything," you said quietly. "You're already getting me books."

"You know what Hails?" Jay said. "I could go for another cup of coffee and then we could drink it while we're walking around."

"That sounds like a great idea. Two coffees and then whatever drink Y/N wants."

"Okay," you relented. "But you guys don't have to keep spending money on me. I don't need much."

"Y/N, look at me," Hailey began and you looked at her, "when I decided I wanted to adopt a kid, I knew I was going to spoil them. And, it just so happened to be you. I know you're scared because everyone's left you, but me and Jay, we're in it for the long haul. You can trust us. Let us spoil you, okay?"

Tears made their way to your eyes. "Okay. Can I- Can I hug you?"

Hailey nodded. "Of course."

And as you hugged Hailey, Jay smiled because that was the first time you had asked for a hug. Before, most people had to ask you, but this time you were asking them and Jay considered that huge progress from when he first met you months and months ago.

***

You sat down next to Hailey at the little diner you decided on for lunch. Jay texted Will and told them they had gotten a table, and he said he'd be there in a few minutes.

You ordered your drinks and then a tall man with red hair and a navy blue jacket with a hospital logo on it walked towards your table. Your breath hitched.

"Hey, it's okay. That's just Will," Hailey explained.

"But- But his jacket says medical on it," you said and clenched your fists and dug your nails into the palms of your hands.

Will sat down.

"Y/N, this is Will, he's my older brother. And, he's also a doctor. But, he's a good one, I promise!" Jay told you quickly.

You swallowed as tears pricked your eyes.

"Y/N," Hailey began gently, "me and Jay wouldn't let you meet him if we didn't think he was 110% safe to be around. I promise you that Will's a good guy."

You looked up at Will to see that he had a goofy smile on his face. "Hey, kiddo."

"H-Hi," you replied quietly.

"So, Jay told me you like historical fiction and that you got hot chocolate. Did you like the hot chocolate? And what's your favorite time period to read about?"

You started talking to Will and you thought that this doctor wasn't so bad...but there was still no way in hell you'd be going to see a doctor for any kind of medical treatment any time soon.

***

Two weeks later

You grabbed all your bags and made your way out to Hailey's car. Then, you turned around and looked at the place you had called home for the past few months. Even though sometimes it didn't feel like home, you knew you were safe there, and with your past, that was what made this place a home in and of itself. You just hoped that Hailey's (and Jay's) place would be as safe as the first night you were there.

Jay was over for dinner and even though he wasn't on the official adoption papers, he went through the same extensive background checks and trainings as Hailey just because she said that he'd be over a lot.

That night, you were asleep. But, somewhere in your sleep-addled brain, you were dreaming. And it wasn't a good dream. It was a dream about your terrible parents and that terrible doctor.

"I don't give a damn!" Jay yelled. He had gone outside to take a phone call from his dad because he didn't want to wake you. But, seeing as you were a light sleeper, those words entered your nightmare.

You whimpered and tried to dodge the slap that came your way in your dream.

Jay quickly hung up the phone when he heard a thud come from inside the house and ran back inside.

You were laying on the floor and had landed with your arm in an awkward position.

You heard the thundering of footsteps coming towards your room.

Shit, you were going to be in trouble for waking Hailey and Jay up.

You scrambled back into bed and took a sip of your water to calm yourself down. But damn, your arm felt like someone had twisted it and stepped on it...much like it had felt three years ago when your dad yanked you back by the arm and twisted it behind you when you tried to run away from that doctor.

Jay slowly opened the door to see you sitting up in bed drinking some water. "Hey," he greeted. "You okay? I thought I heard a thud."

"Uh, I just dropped my water bottle," you told him, trying to hold back tears at how much your arm hurt. "Sorry if I woke you and Hailey up."

"Oh no, I was talking with my dad on the phone," he told you quickly. "You didn't wake us up. Goodnight."

"'Night, Jay."

The minute he walked out of your room, you turned on your side to face the wall and cried until you finally cried yourself to sleep because of the pain.

***

The next day, you tried your best to eat normally and not make a face at how much your arm hurt. But, best believe that when you went to the bathroom or went to change your clothes alone in your room, you cried silently to yourself.

"Hey, it's pretty nice out," Hailey stated when you walked out of your room dressed in jeans and a t-shirt after you had eaten breakfast, washed your face, and brushed your teeth. "Jay suggested a picnic and some baseball at the park nearby. Do you want to do that?"

"That sounds really nice," you said. But, you weren't looking forward to the baseball because you knew that it'd made your arm hurt. But, you didn't want to go to the doctor's either, and the lesser of two evils would be playing baseball with your arm hurting at a level ten.

"Okay, then it's settled. Ham or turkey on your sandwich for the picnic?" Jay asked.

"Ham please," you answered.

***

You played some baseball and gritted through the pain of pitching, catching, and batting and now it was time for lunch.

The three of you were sitting on a picnic blanket on the grassy area outside the baseball diamond. You took the sandwich out of the baggie and Hailey's eyebrows furrowed as she saw the bruising on the inside part of your forearm.

"Y/N, are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" you asked.

"I just see a bruise on your arm. Did you fall earlier when I was running to get a ball and didn't see it?"

"No. I uh, I must've just slept in a weird position last night," you told her. You knew that was a terrible excuse, but that was the only one you had at the moment.

"Okay, well we have ibuprofen at home and we can ice it there, too."

"Okay, thank you." You took another bite of your sandwich.

***

You finished your picnic and then made your way to Jay's truck. You reached up and grabbed the bar to pull yourself up into the truck easier, but cried out when you pulled.

Jay dropped the picnic basket.

"Y/N!" he yelled and ran up to one side of you and Hailey ran up to the other.

You cradled your right arm in your left hand. "It- It's nothing," you said quickly. "I think I just pulled a muscle or something."

"Honey, can I take a look?" Hailey asked.

"I- I don't want to go to the doctor's! Please don't make me go! Please!" you cried.

"Honey, I'm just going to look at it. Then we'll see if we need to go. And, we can always call Jay's brother, Will, and make sure he's the one who treats you. But we don't even know if you need to go to the doctor yet, so please, just let me see your arm."

You reluctantly held your arm out to her. Jay looked, too.

"I think we need to take her in, Hails," Jay said.

You ripped your arm away from Hailey, causing you to scream out in pain. "No! I'm fine!"

"Y/N, you are not fine," Jay said. "Please just let us take you to the doctor's."

"No!" you yelled again.

"Can you tell me why?" Jay asked, employing a tactic he used in the home when girls didn't want to do things. "Maybe make me understand why?"

"He hurt me there!" you yelled. "Every time I went to the doctor, he gave my dad free visits to look at me in exchange for- for--" you wailed and crashed into Hailey's arms.

You gripped her t-shirt tightly with your good hand while you bawled your eyes out.

"Shh, shh, it's okay. It's okay. He's not here. He's in prison. He can't physically hurt you out here, Y/N. And, if we go to the doctor, we'll make sure that it's Will who treats you and we'll be there the whole time," Hailey soothed.

You sniffled and then looked up at her. "You promise you'll be there the entire time?"

"I promise," Hailey confirmed.

You looked at Jay. "You too?"

"You have my word," he agreed.

***

Jay called Will and told him that the three of you would be coming into Chicago Med to look at your arm because he and Hailey thought that you broke it and that they needed Will to treat you because you didn't trust anybody else.

When you walked into the hospital, tears pricked your eyes and you grabbed Hailey's hand with your good one.

"I- I changed my mind," you said quickly. "I don't want to go to the doctor. It'll heal by itself like the other one."

Hailey didn't know what "other one" you were talking about, but she let that part of the sentence go.

"Y/N, honey, we need to make sure you're safe and healthy. And getting you treatment for a broken bone is part of that." She looked at Jay, silently asking him for some help.

"We'll be right there the entire time," Jay promised once again.

"But- But what if you have to leave? I don't wanna be alone in there! I don't!" you cried.

"And you won't. We'll both be there. And if one of us has to leave for whatever reason, then the other will stay. You can trust us. I know it's hard, but I promise you Y/N—me and Hailey both promise you—that you can trust us. We wouldn't have these jobs if you couldn't trust us."

Jay looked up when he heard someone clear their throat. He saw Will standing there.

When you saw Will, this time in hospital scrubs instead of jeans, a t-shirt, and his Chicago Med sweatshirt, you gripped Hailey's hand even tighter.

"Hey, Y/N," Will greeted. "Jay told me you're having problems with your arm? I bet it hurts really bad."

"No, I'm fine," you argued.

"Okay, well..." he paused and moved a hand from behind his back, which was holding a bowl that contained an ice cream sandwich. It was chocolate ice cream squished between two chocolate chip cookies. "I have this ice cream sandwich here for you. Why don't you eat this with your good arm while I take a look at the other one?"

You shyly nodded and let go of Hailey's hand and took the bowl from Will's outstretched hand. "Thank you," you said quietly.

"You're welcome. Now right this way, please."

Will let you into a treatment room and Hailey helped you up on the bed.

"Alright, so Y/N, this is April," Will said as he introduced the nurse who walked in. "She'll be helping me out and taking your vitals."

April would've made a joke about how she'd be doing all the work, but seeing how nervous you were, she didn't."

"But you- you said that Will would be treating me. You promised!" you yelled and looked at Hailey and Jay.

"Y/N, all April's doing is helping Will out. Doctors need help, too," Hailey reassured.

"I'll be really gentle. Okay, sweetie?" April said.

You shoved yourself back into the bed, almost whacking your head on the wall.

"No! No! Don't hurt me! Please, don't!" you yelled.

All four of the adults in the room shared a look.

Hailey cursed. "It was the pet name," she figured out quickly. "One of them must've called her that before."

She knelt down next to the hospital bed, where you were visibly shaking.

"Y/N, I need you to take a few deep breaths with me. In and out," Hailey said.

"I can't! I can't!" you wailed.

"Yes, you can. Just like this." Hailey breathed in and out deeply.

"We can always administer medication if needed," Will suggested.

"Yeah, no," Jay said quickly. "You won't be doing that."

He pulled your emergency inhaler for times like these out of his pocket and pulled it out of the small box. Then he uncapped it and handed it to Hailey.

Once you took two more deep breaths, she held it up to you. "Can you take three puffs for me, Y/N? Just three puffs," she said.

You nodded and put the inhaler to your lips, allowing Hailey to push down on the button, which resulted in you getting some much-needed oxygen into your lungs.

"Better?" Hailey asked when you handed it back to her.

You nodded. "Thanks for having it, Jay."

"You're welcome." He put the inhaler back in the box and then back into his pocket.

Will pulled up a stool and sat on it. Hailey was still right in front of you, but Will was next to her and looking directly at you.

"Y/N, what April's gonna do is just listen to your heart and lungs with a stethoscope just like I have." He touched the stethoscope that was dangling from around his neck. "And then she's going to take your blood pressure by wrapping that around your good arm and squeezing the red thing." He pointed to the blood pressure cuff that was hanging in the room. "And then, I'll take a look at your arm. While she does that, I'll go grab you another ice cream sandwich because I'm pretty sure the other one is melted. Does that sound okay?"

You nodded, thankful that Will was explaining everything to you.

***

Fifteen minutes later, Will was back with your ice cream sandwich. He apologized for taking so long and said he had to argue with a cafeteria worker to make sure he got chocolate ice cream and not vanilla ice cream on it. But, he got it, so that's all that mattered.

He handed you the bowl and you took the ice cream sandwich out with your good hand and took a bite.

"How is it?" Will asked with a smile.

"It's really, really good. Thank you," you answered and took another bite.

"Good. Now, can you try and hold your arm out me?"

You hissed as you straightened your arm to hold it out to him.

"No, no," Will said quickly. "If it hurts to straighten all the way, don't do it." You nodded. "I'm just going to hold your arm with one of my hands and feel around it. Tell me where the most pain is. Do you want some pain medication?"

"No, no needles," you said. "Last time it made me sleep and then I couldn't feel my body."

If Will wasn't working he would've froze because he knew what you were talking about. Jay did, too, and Hailey squeezed his hand to silently tell him to stay calm.

That doctor who had previously assaulted you had drugged you with Rohypnol.

"We can give it to you in pill form," Will suggested. "Is that okay?" You nodded and Will turned to Jay. "What medications is she on?"

Jay rattled off the list of medications and then Will said something to April and then she handed you three pills and a cup of water. You took them.

"They should start to work in fifteen minutes," April told you.

You nodded and then yelped when Will gently pressed down on the inside of your forearm. "Right there?" he asked.

"Mhm," you gritted out as tears came to your eyes again.

"Well, the good news is, we're gonna get an x-ray and you won't have to have me push on your arm anymore," Will told you. You nodded. "Can you tell me how this happened?"

You looked up at Jay. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you." Jay furrowed his eyebrows. "I fell out of bed because of a- because of a nightmare. I told you it was my water bottle. I'm sorry!"

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Jay soothed quickly. "But can I ask why you didn't want to tell me?"

"I didn't want to see a doctor. And I thought you'd be mad and bring me back to the home."

"Oh, honey," Hailey interjected. "We'd never do that. You're my kid forever now."

"Yours, too?" you asked looking at Jay once more.

"You're not mine on paper, but I promise you that I'll keep you safe," he answered.

"But can I be your kid? Eventually?" You asked.

Hailey put her arm around Jay's waist. "You know what, babe? I think getting you to adopt her, too would be great. What do you say?"

"I'd love nothing more," he said with a huge grin on his face.

"Hate to break up this little moment," Will began, "but we gotta get her down for x-rays. Based on where it is, I think she broke her ulna."

April stepped forward. "If you'd follow me, that'd be great."

You looked at Hailey and Jay. "Will you guys come, too?"

Jay looked at his older brother, who gave him and Hailey a slight nod.

"Of course we will, honey," Hailey said.

"Because you said you'd be with me the entire time and because you said you'd keep me safe?" you asked as Hailey helped you down.

"Precisely, kiddo, precisely," Jay said.

And for the first time in your fifteen years of life, you finally found a home that you felt safe in, all thanks to Hailey and Jay.

A/N: Again, I changed a bit of this because some people were a bit confused and, I figured if I modeled the home after Brady, you guys would have a better time imagining it. Anyway, thank you guys so, so much for reading! Remember to like/reblog and comment if you haven't already! Next up, royalty AU part 2! Again, I am donating all my proceeds on buy me a coffee until the end of AU-gust to Save The Children to help the children in Afghanistan. Buy me a coffee here.

As always, if you want to be added to my taglist, just tell me and I’d be happy to add you!

Taglist: @theambracer88@virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @onechicago18 @iamasimpingh0e @i-like-sparkly-things @herecomesthewriterwitch @liampayne88

55 notes · View notes

escapewithbts · 3 years

Note

hiii I love your writing! It’s so good! So I was wondering if you could write one with Jin (he’s my bias, I love him 🥺) where y/n and him are in a LDR and it’s hard and she thinks he’s going to break up with her but it has a happy ending? They work it out somehow? I am an international army and think this would be so sweet. Thank you! xxx ^^

The Inevitable - Seokjin

Ahh I loved this request! Thank you! Hope you enjoy :)

————————————————

You sighed as yet another call to your boyfriend lead straight to his voicemail. Despite the fact that you both had agreed on this time of day to call, he didn’t answer. You knew he had work today, probably finishing around 7pm as usual, but the time difference was killer for your relationship. You were on your way to work yourself; busy at your job for a solid 8-10 hours after that. Lately Seokjin had been going to the studio in the afternoons, sometimes staying as late as 12 or 1am, then crashing immediately when he got back home. He was busy, you were busy, and it was proving more difficult to find time for each other.

Long distance really sucked.

As you pulled into the parking lot of your work building, your phone’s FaceTime ringer went off.

“Hey, jagiya.” A tired looking Seokjin appeared on your screen as you accepted the call.

“Hi.” You responded curtly, turning off your car.

“How are you today?” he asked.

“I’m fine.”

He instantly noticed your short replies and sullen facial expression.

“What’s wrong, jagi?”

You couldn’t help but notice his tone sounded more annoyed than concerned.

You rolled your eyes.

“We were supposed to talk half an hour ago, Jin. I have to go into work now.”

Did you sound needy and dramatic? Maybe. But this was how it had been so often recently. You couldn’t even recall the last time the two of you spoke for more than 5 minutes.

He sighed and ran a hand through his dark black hair.

“I know, (y/n), but what do you want me to do? Practice went over again. I can’t exactly stop everyone else just to call my girlfriend.”

His words stung; making you sound so unimportant. You know he didn’t mean it like that, but you still didn’t like to hear it.

“I know you can’t, Jin. I would never ask that of you.”

He continued,

“It’s not easy. I have six other people that rely on me, and all the staff. I can’t just ask to get away randomly. It’s a lot harder for me than you. I’m important.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes again.

“I know, Jin, you’re an idol, you’re in the biggest band in world right now, the show can’t go on without you. The world revolves around Kim Seokjin.”

You cringed internally after those words slipped out.

Jin shut his eyes tightly and put a pair of crooked fingers to the bridge of his nose.

“That’s not what I meant, (y/n), come on.”

You let out a deep breath and stared into his chocolate brown eyes. They looked sad and defeated.

“I know. I’m sorry.” you paused then went on softly, “I just feel like this time difference has really been messing with us the past few months. We’re both busy.”

Jin rested his head in his palm.

“Yeah.”

Then his head shot back up.

“Hey, maybe you can come visit soon! I’ll have some time off in a few weeks.”

You frowned and shook your head at him, glancing over at your workplace.

“I can’t just take random vacations. I have a job too, you know.”

He cocked his head.

“Yeah, a job you hate,” he retaliated.

You furrowed your eyebrows at him.

“So not the point, Jin.”

All of a sudden you heard a door open and close on Jin’s end of the call.

“Jin-hyung! There you are!”

You immediately recognized the cheerful voice of Jung Hoseok.

“Oh, are you on the phone? Who is it? Is it (y/n)?”

His wide heart-shaped smile and bleach blonde hair popped into view from the side of your screen next to Jin. He waved at you.

“Hiiiii (y/n)-ah!!!! We miss you so much!”

You grinned at sweet j-hope.

“Hi Hoba. I miss you guys, too.”

“Come visit soon, okay??”

You nodded.

“I promise.”

“Did you need something from me, j-hope-ssi?” Jin spoke in Korean to his fellow member.

“We have dinner with Bang PD in a few minutes, I came to get you. The other members are waiting.”

Jin threw his head back.

“Aiiishh, I forgot that was today.”

You watched as more people shuffled into your work building.

“I have to go into work now anyway. Have a good dinner with your boss.”

Jin looked back down at you.

“And have a good day at work. We… will talk later, okay?”

You nodded.

“Okay.”

He gave you a small smike.

“Bye, jagiya.”

You smiled back weakly.

“Bye, Jin. I love y-“

But before you could finish, his face disappeared and all you heard were the beeps of the call ending.

Later that night the sound of your phone ringing woke you up from a deep slumber. You groaned and picked it up off your nightstand to see who was calling at such an ungodly hour.

It was Jin.

You sat up and turned on the lamp next to your bed. It took a few seconds for your eyes to adjust to the change in lighting. The clock read 2:24am.

“Jin?” you croaked out, your voice raspy from sleep.

“(Y/n)… I’m sorry to call so late.”

You yawned.

“Is everything okay?”

Jin hesitated.

“Yes. Well, no. Not exactly. We need… to talk.”

Immediately your heart started pounding in your chest, you breathing getting more rapid. You swung your legs over the edge of your bed. You felt wide awake now.

You knew this was it. You couldn’t say you didn’t see this coming. It had been weird between you two lately, you both knew this. A break up was inevitable.

Still, you weren’t ready. Couldn’t you at least try to work it out? You loved Jin. Didn’t he love you, too?

Your mind was already going a mile a minute.

“O-okay.” You squeaked out.

Jin sighed.

“This is hard. Us being apart.”

Tears started to prick the corner of yours eyes.

“Mmhmm” was all you could muster out.

Jin went on,

“I’ve been thinking of how to fix it, make it easier on us so there isn’t so much stress from not being in the same place.”

“And?”

“I thought and thought… coming up with no answers.”

You held your breath, hot tears falling down your cheeks now.

He sighed again.

“There seemed to be only one solution.”

You were full on crying now, little sobs escaping your chest.

“Jinnie…” you whimpered, grabbing your pillow and holding it to your chest.

“(Y/n)… I think… you should move here. With me.”

WHAT.

You instantly stopped crying.

“Wait… what?”

“Jagiya, hear me out before you say no! Just imagine, we could come home to each other everyday, I can cook you sooo many dinners, we would see each other all the time… no more trying to figure out times to talk! And I could hold you every single day. And I know you don’t like your job, so this would give you the opportunity to find something else here that you love, or not, I don’t mind supporting you, I just… I need you here.”

You burst into tears again, tiredness mixed with this emotional roller coaster taking over.

“(Y/n)-ah? Are you crying? Wh-why are you crying?”

“Jin!” you exclaimed, throwing your free hand in the air, “I thought you were breaking up with me!”

You couldn’t see him, but you could tell both his eyes and mouth widened in shock.

“What?? Shit, Jagi, no! I’m trying to do the opposite! I want you closer to me! Did you really think that’s why I was calling??”

You nodded even though you knew he couldn’t see you.

“Yes. I was terrified, Jinnie.”

Jin inhaled a deep breath.

“I’m sorry. But why would you think that? Do you-do you want to break up?”

You heard the worry in his tone.

“No! No not at all,” you quickly reassured, “it’s just… our conversations have been so short lately and I feel like I annoy you sometimes and-and you didn’t… say I love you after our call earlier today…”you mumbled the last part, slightly ashamed you knew now it was probably just something you were overthinking.

“Aiishh, no, I didn’t say it because Hoba was in the room. You know I’m weird about that stuff. I’m… bad at being cheesy and I get embarrassed easily.”

Relief washed over you.

“And you don’t annoy me. I think our lack of being able to talk a lot has been annoying me. I miss you, (y/n).”

You sniffled.

“I miss you, too Seokjinnie.”

“Which is why I asked you to move here!” He suddenly exclaimed, “So we can be with each other all the time! I know, you have your job and your family and everything, and I know I’m asking a lot I just thought-“

“Jinnie,” you interrupted him, smiling.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes. I want to. I want to move to Korea. To be with you.”

“Ohwaaa, really?”

You stood up from your bed out of excitement.

“Yes! I’m tired of this, too. No more scheduling calls or short conversations. I miss you, I want to be with you together, in the same place. And I am miserable at my job, you’re right. It’s not worth it anymore. Being with you will be worth it. And I can start a new career there. I’ll figure it out.” you took in a deep breath, “is this… for real, Jinnie?”

You could hear his smile as he spoke.

“It’s real, jagi. Yah I’m so happy. I love you.”

Your face hurt from smiling.

“And I love you, Jin.”

Then you paused and looked around your room.

“Sooo is it too early to start packing?”

57 notes · View notes

hazel-light · 3 years

Text

Chapter Word Count: ~7,400

Total Fic Word Count: ~30,000

Genre: (Wedding) Fake Dating, Friends to Lovers, lots of bed sharing and every self indulgent fluffy trope possible.

Warnings: None? Lots of fluff? Occasional cussing? Some suggestive themes, moments, and jokes I guess. No smut or anything!

Disclaimer: I am not Daniel Sharman, and I do not pretend to know how he would act, speak, etc. This is fiction okay, there’s a lot of creative license, and potential to be OOC. Ricky isn’t mentioned because I started writing this before we knew he existed, so apologies for that. Also, if you’re DShar himself, please do us both a favor and don’t read this, okay???? Same if you know him 🙈

Title taken from the song Yellow Lights by Harry Hudson which suits this story quite a bit!

A/N: You thought I'd skip all the possibilities and tropes that come with the holidays?! Of course not. This is the final part to Yellow Lights. Thank you all for making my return to writing and posting so wonderful. I am so, so, grateful. I hope the ending lives up to your expectations. <3

The next month and a half passes by uneventfully. I try not to spend all of my time thinking about how great Rachel's wedding was, and equally try to ignore the wistful feeling Henry’s wedding left me with. Having Daniel be my fake boyfriend in front of my family showed me everything that I’d ever wanted; someone who fit in seamlessly, who loved me for me, with the perfect balance of romance and friendship. Whatever crush I had successfully buried when Daniel and I first met is now achingly hard to avoid. I curse my active imagination and optimism for letting me indulge in the moments of pretend, leaning too comfortably into our façade.

As a result, I don’t talk to Daniel much. He is busy finishing filming his project in London, and I try to focus on my life in LA. I’ve become paranoid that every text I send him is one too many, too annoying, or too bothersome. I figure I can reassess things when Daniel comes home from filming, and try to find my footing in our friendship again.

This seems like a solid plan until I’m on Zoom with my family for Thanksgiving. Since I’ve already flown back once this year for the wedding, and I’m planning to fly back again next month for Christmas, staying put for Thanksgiving was the economical choice. The call is mostly uneventful until the subject of Daniel comes up.

“Where’s that boy?” Aunt Judith crows from her spot at the dining table.

“Hmm?” I ask.

“She means Daniel.” Ryan rolls his eyes, bringing the iPad closer to her.

“Oh! Right.” I try to recover. “He’s still away filming his new project, actually, but I was able to fly out to see him at the end of September for another wedding, actually.”

Aunt Judith frowns. “That’s a long time to not see someone that handsome—” I start to laugh, “Are you sure he’s not cheating on you?”

Oh shit. It’s in this moment that I realize Daniel and I had never “broken up” as far as my family knows. I hear the rest of my family start sputtering in the background.

“Aunt Judith— you can’t just—”

“That’s awful, I—”

“It is kind of a long time, huh?—”

I try to keep a straight face. “Guys! It’s okay. He’s an actor, it comes with the territory. I expected this.”

“So you aren’t sure that he’s not cheating on you?” Ryan frowns.

“That isn’t what I meant, Ry. Daniel and I are fine. We’re really good, actually.”

“Well I certainly hope you’ll be bringing him home for Christmas then.” Aunt Judith huffs.

“It would be nice to see him,” Rachel speaks up for the first time, and her husband Nick nods. “I didn’t get to talk to him a whole lot at the wedding.”

I clear my throat, my mind racing. “You know, we haven’t actually talked about what we’re doing for Christmas yet; I’ll have to see what he’s doing— if he’s going to spend it with his family.”

“But you’re still coming home,” Ryan states.

“Yes, I am still coming home, no matter what.”

Ryan and Rachel’s mom, my auntie Kim speaks up. “I think it’s pretty common for a boyfriend to defer to his girlfriend’s family for the holidays. I mean, Ryan splits the day with Katharine of course, but Nick always came here with Rachel.”

“I hear you, Auntie Kim, but Daniel never gets to see his family so I’m not sure— all I’m saying is I’m not sure. He may very well come, and I will let you all know as soon as I know.” I smile tersely.

“Well hurry up, and find out,” Auntie Kim chastises. “Christmas is only a month away.”

When I hang up with them, it’s 7pm and I’m feeling antsy. How could I have forgotten that my entire family still thought Daniel and I were together? I’m not sure how to get out of this one. Tired of panicking alone in my head, I pick up my phone and dial Daniel before I can talk myself out of it. It rings and rings, and my anxiety that he won’t answer grows with each tone.

Eventually I hear rustling on the other line.

“Lauren?” Daniel’s voice crackles through the phone.

“Hi.”

“Are you alright?”

“What? Uh— yeah, I just needed to talk to you about something—” I glance at the time on my phone. “Oh god, no. What time is it there? I’m so sorry— I didn’t even stop to think about the time difference, I—”

I hear him suppress a yawn. “Lauren. It must be pretty important if you’re calling me AND rambling like this.”

“No, no, it can wait, I’m sorry— uh, go back to bed. I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“Lauren,” he stops me softly and firmly. “Stop apologizing. What’s going on?”

I sit quietly, feeling like an absolute idiot.

“Lauren, come on. You can tell me.”

“I— we… we never broke up?”

He laughs. “Sorry, what?”

“We never broke up.”

“Am I still asleep, is this a dream?”

“My family still thinks we’re together and they asked me if you’re coming home for Christmas.”

We’re both quiet for a moment.

“Oh.” is all he says.

“I talked to them for Thanksgiving, and they were asking about you. I realized too late that they thought we were still together— because I never told them we broke up. I didn’t think it through this far.”

“Right, I didn’t either.”

My phone starts ringing, telling me Daniel’s trying to FaceTime me.

I accept, and I’m faced with a dark screen.

“Why are we FaceTiming?”

I hear a lamp click on and suddenly Daniel’s face is illuminated as he lays in bed, lines from his pillow still on his face.

“Figured we should at least be able to see each other if you’re going to break up with me in the middle of the night,” he teases.

I shake my head. “Not funny, this is serious, D.”

“I know, I know.”

“If I break up with you, they’re going to yell at me and tell me I’m a stupid idiot.”

Daniel laughs.

“And if you break up with me they’re going to hate you, which means they’ll hate that we managed to ‘stay friends.’ And if it’s mutual…..” I shake my head, thinking. “They’ll think we were lying.”

“Which we were.”

I sigh, “Which we were.”

“So,” Daniel pulls his blanket up higher. “What are our options here?”

“I don’t know, that’s why I called you.”

I watch him stare off into space and reminisce about when I got to see this sleepy Daniel firsthand in Cape Cod.

“I could come for Christmas…” he trails off and I frown.

“That seems like asking a lot. You’ve already given up a lot of your free time this year for me.”

He shrugs into his pillow. “Do you not want me to come for Christmas?”

I pause. “I mean, that isn’t really the issue here. You have to be tired of being in love with me by now.”

He laughs loudly — a stark contrast to the quiet of his room. “Yes, being in love with you is very exhausting.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“I’m kidding. Being in love with you is not exhausting. At all.”

I roll my eyes and say nothing. “I don’t think I can bear to break your family’s hearts at Christmas of all times.”

“Man of the year.” I drawl. “What are you supposed to be doing for Christmas? Going home?”

“No, usually I travel somewhere, but I hadn't decided yet.”

I hum in response.

“Kind of leaning towards traveling to Massachusetts now, if I’m honest.”

I look at him incredulously, only to see a playful grin on his face, but I know he’s serious.

“I’m not going to stop you if you really want to come. But I—” I swallow. “Eventually we’re going to need to plan for whatever happens after Christmas.”

He nods. “I know, we will. Let’s just enjoy Christmas together, first.”

I smile. “Okay. We can enjoy it. Together.”

He clears his throat. “I hope I’m not too rusty at this boyfriend performance, it’s been a few months.”

“Daniel Sharman has performance issues… I hope that doesn’t get out to the press.”

His eyes flash. “Bold, for you.”

I shrug. “You walked into that one, baby.”

“Well, you’re lucky you’re cute, darling.”

We look at each other for a moment, and I hope my eyes don’t give away how fond I am for this man who is willing to commit to fake-loving me, and putting up with my family, and who is setting the bar way too high for any actual real relationship I could hope for.

So much for reburying my feelings.

I break eye contact first. “I’ll let you get back to sleep. Sorry again for waking you up.”

“Do Not Disturb doesn’t apply to you, Lauren. Call any time.”

I smile softly. “Sweet dreams, I’ll text you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight.”

—-

I’m standing in the Boston Logan airport waiting for international arrivals; specifically Daniel’s flight from London. According to the board, his flight landed 15 minutes ago, so he should be coming to the lobby any time now. I bounce on my feet, simultaneously eager and nervous to see Daniel for the first time since parting ways after Henry and Claire’s wedding.

Eventually I see the hat and sunglasses I recognize from a selfie he sent me earlier, and I can feel my heart race. I begin walking towards him, and feel my pace quicken as I get closer. Eventually he sees me too and he’s grinning at me with his signature toothy smile that I missed so much.

When we come into contact I don’t know what the appropriate response is, so I simply grin up at him.

“Hi,” I breathe.

“Hi,” he smiles back, and before I know it he’s closer than he was before and he’s ducking down to kiss me.

It surprises me but I respond quickly, leaning up to meet him.

When it’s over he pulls back just enough to nuzzle his nose with mine.

“Missed you,” he says softly.

“Missed you most.” I smile.

He stands up straight, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder, threading his other hand through mine.

I can’t see his eyes, but I assume he must be looking around when he speaks.

“Oh, are you by yourself?”

The question catches me off guard.

“Yeah— well, Ryan’s in the car, circling so he wouldn’t have to pay for parking,” I roll my eyes.

He nods, “Sorry, then—“ he makes an inconclusive gesture. “Suppose I didn’t need to kiss you quite yet.”

My stomach drops and I smile tightly, “That’s okay— better safe than sorry. I get it.”

He tugs on my hand pulling me into a hug.

“I did miss you, though.”

“And I still missed you most.” I tease.

Daniel shakes his head, but doesn’t argue, pulling back from me and reaching for his suitcase with his freehand.

“Let’s get this show on the road.”

—-

I bring Daniel upstairs to show him around, and so he can put his suitcase in my room.

“Welcome to my childhood bedroom,” I announce, opening the door and leading Daniel inside.

“Wow, where little Lauren grew up,” Daniel teases looking around. When I first arrived home yesterday, I was quick to tidy up, and hide anything that was too embarrassing, but my room is more or less the exact same as I had left it when I was 18 and moving to college.

I nod. “Yes, many secrets to my backstory can be discovered in here.”

Daniel laughs.

Ryan appears in my doorway leaning against the doorframe.

“Just so you know, Daniel, my bedroom is on the other side of this wall,” he nods to his right. “I can hear everything that happens in here. The walls are thin.”

I frown, blushing, “Ew, Ryan.”

Daniel just laughs and smirks, “Got it, bro.”

I look at him incredulously, “Don’t encourage him.”

The two share a look and shrug, seemingly equally enjoying my discomfort.

“Dinner’s ready!” Auntie Kim calls up to us.

I use that as my cue, brushing past both of them to go downstairs, leaving their laughter behind me.

—-

After Christmas Eve dinner, Katharine stops by and the four of us decide to watch the classic, How the Grinch Stole Christmas. I’m the last to arrive in the living room, and when I enter I immediately notice that Ryan is cuddled up with Katharine, and sprawled out over the entire couch, leaving Daniel sitting in the only other seat— the armchair.

I narrow my eyes at them, “Are you guys for real?”

Ryan looks at us and hums innocently, “What?”

“You took the entire couch.”

I see Katharine bite her lip in amusement, as Ryan shrugs.

“I assumed you guys would cuddle anyway. Can you not share the armchair?”

Daniel intervenes, “Of course we can. C’mon Laur.”

He pats his lap. I hesitate briefly before nestling into his lap, tucking my head into his neck.

“Am I crushing you?” I whisper.

“Not at all, you’re keeping me warm.”

I huff a laugh as he puts the blanket over us and Ryan starts the movie. The steady rise and fall of his chest brings me a sense of peace and I have to try not to fall asleep, especially when his fingers gently caress my arm and my leg where he’s holding me to him. I exhale, turning further into his neck and nuzzling into him.

“Tickles,” he breathes, just shy of a whisper.

“You smell good,” I tell him, letting my eyes close.

His chuckle reverberates through his body. “Thanks, darling.”

I feel my eyes shut and sleep take over. I start to come to when I hear the ending song come on, and it drifts into whatever dream I’m having.

“She asleep?” I hear Ryan ask.

“Think so,” Daniel answers.

“You need help waking her up?”

“No, I’ve got it, thanks though. Nice seeing you, Katharine.”

I hear footsteps retreat and feel a series of kisses pressed to my shoulder, as Daniel’s long fingers brush hair away from my face.

“Time to wake up, pretty girl. You can go back to sleep once we’re in your bed.”

I shake my head no, clinging to him tighter.

“Like this bed.” I murmur drowsily.

He laughs softly. “Promise we can cuddle there too.”

“Promise?” I ask, peeking one eye open.

“I promise,” he confirms, pressing one more kiss to my shoulder.

I lift my head to look at him, rubbing my eyes.

“There she is,” he smiles gently at me.

I smile back sleepily, the words coming out before I fully think them through.

“Wanna know a secret?”

“Tell me.”

I swallow, letting my gaze flicker down to his mouth for just a moment. “I like cuddling with you.”

“You do, huh?”

I nod.

“Well the feeling’s mutual. Let’s go upstairs and brush our teeth so we can cuddle more in your bed.”

“Okay,” I relent, getting off of him. He stands up after me and I instinctively lace my fingers with his, leading us back upstairs. When we’re brushed and changed, we settle ourselves in bed and I claim my spot tucked into his neck again.

“Sweet dreams,” he says, kissing the top of my head. I echo the sentiment and gently kiss the spot on his neck I’m closest to. His arms tighten around me and I’m falling asleep again.

—-

For once, I wake up before Daniel. He looks peaceful as he sleeps on his stomach, his arm across my waist, face half smushed into the pillow. I turn my head to look at the clock to see it’s about 9:30 and know the others will be waking up soon. I turn back to Daniel and card my fingers gently through his hair. Eventually his breathing changes and his eyes flutter open, still clouded with sleep.

“Merry Christmas,” I whisper, our faces just inches apart.

He pulls himself closer to me, nuzzling into my side and closing his eyes again. “Merry Christmas.”

It’s quiet for a moment before he speaks again, voice raspy with sleep. “Is everyone else awake?”

“No, I don’t think so. I haven’t heard anyone up and around… they might be soon. Usually we kind of wander downstairs around 10, and it’s just past 9:30.”

He hums in response.

“You can go back to sleep for a little while if you want,” I offer, still running my fingers through his hair. “I’ll wake you when it’s time to go downstairs.”

I start to think he’s drifted off to sleep again when he opens his eyes and looks at me. “No, I can get up. I want to give you your present.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “I told you not to get me anything; you coming here like this with me— twice— is more than enough.”

He rolls his eyes, detaching himself from me and rolling out of bed. “And look like the asshole who didn’t get his girlfriend anything for Christmas? Not a chance.”

I sit up. “We could’ve lied about it—”

“Lauren,” Daniel looks back at me exasperatedly, leaning over his suitcase. “It’s Christmas. Please just open your present.”

He pulls out a neatly wrapped, thin rectangle and places it in my lap, sitting next to me on the bed.

“Merry Christmas, Laur.”

I carefully unwrap the package to reveal a framed art print, with a circle of stars in the middle; underneath it says “The Night Everything Changed” with the coordinates of what I assume to be Los Angeles. I look up to him with soft eyes, and he gives a one shouldered shrug.

“Saw an ad for this online— where you can get the night sky documented of any night you want, anywhere you want. I thought it would be nice to commemorate this past year, for us…” he trails off, and I hug the frame to my chest.

“Daniel, I love it— Really, really love it. It’s so thoughtful.” I reach out and thread our fingers together. “I’m going to hang this in my room. I want it somewhere I see every day.”

He smiles and squeezes my hand. “I’m glad you like it. I actually wanted to talk to you about something— in relation to this. I—”

We’re interrupted by a light knocking on the door, and we both turn.

“Are you guys awake?” Ryan’s voice calls.

“Yeah, we’ll be out in a sec!” I answer.

I turn back to Daniel who squeezes my hand and moves to get up, but I pull him back.

“They can wait; this is special. I want to hear what you have to say.” I smile at him warmly, but he shakes his head, lifting the back of my hand to kiss it.

“It’s alright, I’d rather wait and tell you when we have more time to talk.”

I frown. “Promise me you won’t forget?”

He laughs. “Trust me, I won’t forget.”

He moves to stand, pulling me up with him to go downstairs, but I stop him, wrapping my arms around him tightly.

“Thank you, D. It means a lot to me.”

He returns my embrace, placing a kiss to the top of my head.

When we pull apart, I take his hand again. “Time for Christmas. Your present is under the tree, by the way.”

Daniel laughs. “A present double-standard.”

I shake my head and lead him out of the room.

—-

I think we’re done with presents when Ryan surprises me, coming over to Daniel and I on the loveseat.

“This is for both of you, kind of.” He hands me a thin, narrow gift.

Daniel looks up, surprised. “Thanks, man. That was thoughtful of you.”

He looks at me, silently asking, did you know about this?, and I shake my head no.

I unwrap the package to find a small frame, with a one hundred dollar bill matted in the middle. I look at Ryan and furrow my eyebrows.

“It's the hundred bucks I said I’d give you if you brought a real date to Rachel’s wedding. Seeing as the same guy is here for Christmas I figured you earned it. Thought I’d frame it— but you can take it out and spend it on a date or something, I don’t care.”

Auntie Kim squints. “Sorry, you told her what?”

I roll my eyes and try to avoid the way my stomach sinks at the reminder of how this all started.

I feel Daniel’s hand on my knee. “Clever, Ryan.”

I look over at him to see him flashing his polite interview smile, and I instantly know he knows exactly what I’m feeling.

Auntie Kim stands and stretches. “I don’t get it, but I’m going to go start breakfast. Your sister and Nick are picking up Judith soon and then they’re coming over. Katharine isn’t coming until dinner, right, Ryan?”

As Ryan confirms, she walks out of the room. Ryan turns back to us. “Mind if I shower first?”

I shake my head no, still lost in my thoughts, and I hear Daniel tell him to go ahead.

We’re left alone and I feel Daniel’s thumb brushing my knee.

“Thank you for my presents.”

“You’re welcome— I’m glad you like them; they don’t beat your present for me though.”

He rolls his eyes and we sit for a moment, the framed hundred dollar bill still in my hands.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

I look at him and shake my head. “I don’t know. Just an odd reminder of how this started, and that it’s going to have to end soon, I guess.”

Daniel frowns. “We haven’t really gotten to talk about that. Why don’t we table that for later— we still have a nice day ahead of us. Those are problems for tomorrow.”

I nod and smile at him, and he pulls me in to kiss my temple, and I hear the click of an iPhone camera. I look up to see Auntie Kim in the doorway.

“Sorry, I just wanted to tell you that the coffee’s on. It was too cute not to capture.”

Daniel stands up, offering me his hand. “Make sure you send me a copy. I’ll have to add it to my collection.”

I chuckle as I stand. “Let me guess; the album is called ‘Cute and Shit.’”

He grins. “How’d you know?”

—-

Christmas flies by. It’s filled with good food, wine, and everyone I love. It’s hours after dinner, and Auntie Kim has already driven Aunt Judith home before going to bed herself.

Ryan, Katharine, Daniel, and I are all still seated around the dining room table playing some kind of team card game, and everyone’s faces are red from laughter and wine.

I can’t help but watch Daniel, who is in some kind of hilarious argument with Ryan over some card he pulled. His eyes shine from the light of the chandelier, and his smile is big and bright, taking over his whole face.

It hits me in this moment that I’ve surpassed unlabeled romantic feelings; I am truly in love with this man. The realization consumes me until Katharine knocks her shoulder into mine giggling.

“Can you believe we love these idiots?”

“Sometimes it’s a hard pill to swallow,” I tease, giggling, catching Daniel’s eye mid-argument. He winks at me and I feel my already red cheeks flush even deeper.

“You two are so cute,” Katharine continues, watching our interaction. She lowers her voice, whispering to me behind her wine glass. “I was kind of worried that when you got a boyfriend he wouldn’t mesh well with our dynamic, ya know? But it kind of feels like Daniel’s always been here.”

Her words vocalize the thoughts that have been ringing in my head all day. “I know what you mean.”

Katharine dramatically clears her throat. “Are you two done? Is it our turn yet?”

—-

We part ways from Ryan and Katharine in the hallway, giggling and shushing each other in the wee hours of the morning. I shut my door behind me and waggle my eyebrows at Daniel.

“Uh oh, there’s trouble,” he teases. “Planning to seduce me?”

I shrug exaggeratedly and he laughs before looking around. “Fuck, where are my sweatpants?”

I giggle. “They’re literally right behind you on the chair.”

“Oh, thanks.” He grabs them before looking at me. “Can I change in here tonight?”

I flush. “Yeah, sure.”

After sharing a room together all this time, this is the first time we’ve changed in front of each other and the thought makes my skin tingle. I make my way over to my dresser, pulling out my own sleep shorts and t-shirt. I wiggle out of my pants and pull on my shorts, glancing over my shoulder to see Daniel, shirtless, adjusting his sweatpants on his hips. My throat runs dry, and I turn around to pull my own shirt over my head, reaching behind me to unclip my bra once it’s on. I bundle my discarded clothes in my hand, walking over to toss them in the hamper. I turn around to find Daniel already looking at me. He’s still shirtless and my eyes drift to his defined chest. He looks down as if noticing for the first time.

“It’s really, uh, hot in here.” He speaks again. “Would it bother you if I slept shirtless?”

I shake my head, mentally screaming. “No, it is warm,” I agree, reaching up to put my hair in a bun on top of my head.

He watches me intently, and I laugh self consciously. “What?”

“Nothing. Just thinking about how this was the best Christmas I’ve had in a while.”

My face lights up. “Really?”

“Yeah.” I see his grin quirk up, and know something else is coming. “I’d say it was almost perfect.”

“Oh?” I question, finishing my bun. “Go on.”

“We fit in a lot of classic traditions today, but we missed one that I’m quite fond of.”

I look at him, trying to think of what it could be, as he takes a step closer to me.

“There wasn’t any mistletoe.”

I swallow. “There wasn’t.” I pause, my mind racing. Before I can fully think it through I find myself offering, “But we could pretend?”

“Hmm?” He murmurs, taking a step closer to me so he’s right in front of me now. I know he’s giving me a chance to take it back, or make a joke; I’m nervous, but I don’t want to take it back. I just really want to kiss him.

“I’d really like it if you had a perfect Christmas.”

“And you?” He questions softly. “What would make it a perfect Christmas for you?”

Instead of answering him, I reach up on my tiptoes to kiss him for a moment, pulling back to look him in the eyes. His eyes meet mine in some unspoken understanding, and then he’s dipping down to kiss me again.

He kisses me softly, delicately, like all the kisses at the wedding. He pulls back briefly to look at me, as if he still expects me to change my mind. I kiss him again, wanting there to be no doubt in his mind, and he kisses me back with purpose and passion, and I’m caught off guard by the weight of it. I gasp, and Daniel uses this opportunity to deepen the kiss, pulling me closer. It reminds me of our very first kiss back on his couch. My arms move around his neck, pulling our bodies flush together.

Daniel pulls away first, but barely, breathing hard, kissing down from my jaw to my neck.

This is definitely new territory for us.

I move my hands to his hair, and he groans at the feeling. I can’t help myself as I sigh breathlessly, a shiver running down my back. He grins against my neck, his teeth scraping at my skin and I moan softly.

“Wait,” I say breathlessly, a thought somehow flitting through my mind. “Earlier, didn’t you say there was something else I should know about my present?”

“I can tell you tomorrow,” he murmurs into my neck between kisses. “It’s time for bed.” He tugs me down onto the bed so I’m underneath him, resuming his kisses on my neck.

“This doesn't seem like going to sleep to me,” I tease.

“It is, shhhh, you’re dreaming.”

“That I’d believe,” I laugh, and Daniel smirks, moving so we're eye to eye again.

“Dream about me often?”

“Shhh.” I pull him closer, turning his words back on him. “You’re dreaming, go back to bed.”

“Happily,” he murmurs, kissing me again.

I bring my hands down to his bare shoulders, feeling his warm, toned skin against my fingertips. I gently drag my nails down his chest to his stomach, and I feel his muscles clench at my touch. I can’t help but smirk to myself as he pulls away to rest his forehead on my shoulder, letting out a shuddering breath. I bring my nails around his back, tracing up his taut muscles and across his shoulder blades.

I feel one of his hands come down, pushing my shirt up, his mouth pressing hot kisses to my abdomen. His nose takes over pushing my shirt up, exploring every new inch revealed with his mouth, his hand now running over my thigh, fingers squeezing occasionally, slowly climbing higher. As his hand reaches the bottom of my shorts, he lightly tugs at the fabric. He pauses, his blue eyes tentatively peering up at me.

“Can I…?” He looks nervous, like I’ll reject him. As if I have ever rejected him, or could ever manage to deny him. I’m not even entirely sure what he’s asking but I find myself nodding quickly. As he goes to tug my shorts down we hear a bang on the wall we share with Ryan followed by a crash, a “Shhhh” and a “Shit.”

We both startle and look over toward the wall, before looking back at each other and laughing softly.

“Ugh, I don’t want to know,” I say, shaking my head.

“You probably, definitely don’t.” He smiles at me before pulling his hand off my shorts, and my shirt back down, letting his fingers trace along the waistband of my shorts before he clears his throat. “We should, uh, get some sleep.”

I blink at the abrupt change in mood before nodding awkwardly. “Okay, sure.”

He rolls off of me, and I reach over to shut the lamp off. I’m hesitant to cuddle up to him, unsure if what just happened changed something between us, but I’m relieved when I feel his arm wrap around me the way it always does. Neither of us say anything, and I try not to think about the last few minutes, the firmness of his body behind mine, or the way my body’s buzzing— closing my eyes to try and get some rest.

—-

The next two days with my family go pretty much the same way as Christmas did. Daniel gets on swimmingly with everyone, and my heart aches every time I realize that once the holidays are over, our charade is going to come to an end—a permanent end— this time. I try to ignore that thought and enjoy my time, basking in the coupley moments in front of my family, and leaning into every touch we share.

I never get a chance to ask about my Christmas present; the time never feels right, and Daniel doesn’t bring it up either. Nothing happens between us like Christmas night; when bedtime rolls around we change in the bathroom and go straight to bed. We cuddle, but there’s no after-dark kisses or wandering hands. I wonder if Daniel feels as self-conscious about that night as I do; if he does, he doesn’t show it.

—-

We’re in my room packing to go back to LA in an effort to try to beat the inevitable New Year’s rush at the airport.

“I need to find something to wrap this in so it doesn’t break in my luggage,” I frown, holding up Daniel’s present. “It’s my new prized possession— nothing can happen to it.”

Daniel looks over and laughs. “Want me to wrap it in my sweatpants? That's what I did on the way here.”

“Okay, thank you.” I pad across the floor and pass him the frame, our fingers brushing in the process.

“Of course.” His lips quirk up as he carefully arranges the frame in his suitcase.

A moment passes, and I wonder if now is a good time to ask about my present .

“Hey, I’ve been wanting to ask—“

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask you—“

We both stop mid-sentence and Daniel laughs, “Sorry what were you saying?”

I shake my head, courage gone. “No— sorry, go ahead.”

He looks at me curiously but continues, “Henry texted me; he and Claire invited us to their New Year’s Eve party. They’re having it in LA this year.”

I quirk an eyebrow. “Us? They want me to go?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, Claire apparently requested your presence specifically.”

“Oh, that’s nice of her. I usually stay in for New Year’s.”

“It could be fun— if you aren’t sick of me yet,” Daniel teases.

“Ha!" I laugh, "If you aren’t sick of me yet, more like.” I shake my head. “And don’t mind sharing your friends with me.”

“They’re basically your friends now, too,” he argues.

“I’m not sure one wedding constitutes that, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

“You should come.”

I stop and look at him.

“I’ll call a car and pick you up on the way.”

When I hesitate, he softens his voice. “Please come.”

I swallow, “Okay.”

I’m not a big party person, but I also know I don’t have it in my heart to deny him, especially after everything he’s done for me.

He grins. “Really?”

I nod. “Yeah, I’ll go.”

“Cool, I’ll, uh, let them know we’re coming.”

I bite my lip to suppress my smile and start planning my outfit in my head.

—-

When we arrive at Claire and Henry’s house on New Year’s Eve, I try not to gawk at the size. It’s massive and sits high on one of the tallest hills in LA, away from the noise of the city.

The first person to spot us as we walk in is, unfortunately, Eleanor. I’d hoped she was in London, and away from us, but alas.

“Daniel!” she squeals, throwing her arms around him. “I was so hoping you’d be here.”

“Hi, El,” he placates her with a strained smile. “You remember Lauren?” He gestures back to me.

“Laura?” she asks, disinterested.

“Lauren,” I correct, forcing myself to smile. “Nice to see you again.”

“Eleanor,” Daniel intervenes. “Could you point us in the direction of Henry and Claire, perhaps?”

She frowns, but quickly covers it up. “They were in the kitchen last I checked— we have just got to catch up later.”

“We will!” He agrees graciously. “Let us get a drink, and I’m sure we'll have plenty of time to talk later.”

Daniel puts a hand on my back, guiding me forward and into another room, which turns out to be the kitchen. He’s immediately drawn into a series of bro hugs and handshakes by Henry and some of his other friends.

“Lauren! I’m so glad you came!” I turn to find Claire by a table of beverages.

“Claire! So nice to see you, thank you for inviting me.”

“Thank you for coming,” she says, pulling me into a quick hug. “I told Daniel he just had to bring you.”

I laugh. “He told me you were quite persistent— I usually have a low key New Year’s at home, but this is a fun change of pace.”

“Can I get you a drink?” She asks, already reaching for a bottle of champagne.

“Sure, thank you.” I catch Daniel’s eye across the room; he’s being clapped on the back and led out of the kitchen. I smile reassuringly, hoping to communicate that I’m fine here. He seems to understand, as he smiles back and nods before turning back to his friends.

Claire giggles, bringing my attention back to her.

“You look at him with such heart eyes, it’s cute.”

I try to keep my face from panicking. “Sorry?” She laughs like my reaction is the funniest thing in the world. “Oh don’t worry, he looks at you just the same, so you’re fine.”

I chuckle nervously. “I think maybe you’ve got the wrong impression—”

She shrugs like we’re talking about something commonplace, like the weather.

“Maybe, it’s possible... but I don’t think so. Now come! There’s some other girls I’d love for you to meet.”

—-

I spend a good portion of the night talking with Claire and her friends. They’re all very kind to me, but eventually I excuse myself to get some air out on the balcony.

I’m looking up at the sky — it’s dark, dotted with faint stars and a distant passing plane — when I hear somebody come out and join me. As they settle next to me against the railing I immediately know who it is just by how comfortable I feel.

“Whatcha doin out here, LaurLaur? The New Year’s only a few minutes away.”

I grin at him. “Just getting some air and admiring the stars. From up here you can actually see them.”

He hums, looking up with me.

“It reminds me of a certain piece of art a certain someone got me for Christmas.”

He chuckles. “I’m glad you like it so much.”

“It was very thoughtful…. I wonder if any of the stars are in the same places as they were that night.”

“Which night?”

“The night everything changed. Your birthday.”

Daniel leans against the railing facing me, and looks like he’s about to say something before he changes his mind.

Eventually he speaks again. “Things are going to change again soon, right? You said you’re sure about the break up?”

I swallow, scoffing my shoe against the balcony floor.

“I mean, we still need to figure it out, but you can’t keep fake dating me forever. That isn’t fair to you.”

He smiles wistfully. “It’s not like there was anyone else I was trying to date.”

“I’m a lucky girl,” I lament, and Daniel blushes and shakes his head. ��It’s a real shame we’re over, though," I jest, trying to lighten the mood. "I’ve never gotten to kiss anyone at midnight.”

His eyebrows raise in surprise. “Never?”

“Nope,” I pop the p and look down at my feet.

“Well.” He clears his throat conspiratorially. “We can agree not to bring our fake relationship into the New Year if you want, but if the kiss starts before midnight, I think we’d get by on a technicality...”

I laugh. “You really want Eleanor to hate me, don’t you?”

He grins cheekily and shakes his head. “Nah, I think I saw her latched onto some other poor bugger inside. We’re in the clear.”

I roll my eyes, looking back up at the sky. I feel his finger trace my arm, gently using my elbow to turn my attention back towards him.

His voice is softer now, “It’s up to you, but there’s no one else I’d rather kiss at midnight.”

I look into his eyes and realize he’s being sincere. My heart’s beating out of my chest. Yes, I want to kiss him, but I want it to mean something. I keep giving in because I know one day this is all going to go away, and I’ll be left with just my memories and heartache.

He must see some hesitance in my eyes, because he’s taking a step back.

“If you don’t want to, it’s fine. Really.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Not trying to pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do.”

I shake my head. “It’s not that I don’t want to, I just…” I trail off, looking over the balcony, trying to swallow my feelings, which have manifested as anxious tears in my eyes. I feel a tear escape, and I hastily reach up to wipe it away.

“Hey,” Daniel says gently. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t.” I let out a watery laugh. “Sorry, I don’t know why I’m…”

I feel his steady stare, and I come to terms with the fact that I’ve really gotten myself into a mess that I can’t just smooth over. I’m going to have to tell him.

I take a minute to compose myself, and Daniel stays quiet giving me time to put my words together as I look anywhere but at him.

“I do want to kiss you, D,” I start slowly, trying to keep my voice steady, “but I can’t if it’s just another part of our fake relationship.”

He tugs me closer by hand, gently, so I have no choice but to look at him. I swallow the lump in my throat. “I… know this wasn’t supposed to be real. But it has been, for me.”

He shakes his head and squeezes my hand. “So then stop trying to break up with me.”

I blink at him, and he continues.

“The night everything changed— your star map— I wasn’t referencing the story we told your family about my birthday.” Daniel looks at me long and hard like I’m missing something totally obvious. “It’s actually the stars from a night a month or so later.”

A month or two— Oh. OH.

“The night Ryan FaceTimed me?” I whisper, afraid to be wrong.

He takes my other hand in his, lacing our fingers together. “Listen— Fuck. I’m in love with you, Lauren.” He looks at me so intensely and my head is spinning. “I love you, and I’m in love with you.”

“What?” I ask dumbly.

He licks his lips. “A wise woman once said to me, you don’t confess to ‘kind of like someone’ when you’ve already been friends as long as we have.”

I stare at him for a second, my cheeks burning. “Well your friend sounds pretty smart.” I swallow. “Because I love you, too.”

He laughs, relief flooding his features. He pulls me to his chest, crushing me and squeezing the air out of my lungs. Eventually he pulls back, hands cupping my face.

He grins and shakes his head. “She is smart, so, so smart, but I don’t want to be her friend anymore.”

“What do you mean?” My brows furrow in confusion, worried that somehow I’ve misread this whole interaction, my relief quickly being replaced by panic.

“Well.” He steps forward, keeping our faces incredibly close. “I’m hoping she agrees to be my very real girlfriend— that is, if she doesn’t break up with me first.”

I hear everyone inside start the countdown to midnight. I’m still looking into Daniel’s eyes in disbelief, my hands clinging to the front of his shirt.

When the countdown hits one, I’ve finally found the words I want to say.

“Happy New Year, boyfriend.”

He’s grinning as he kisses me, and I am too. It’s not our most elegant kiss, a mess of teeth and giggles, and whispered “I love you”s. We never stray too far from each other’s lips, kissing again and again like we can’t get enough— and maybe we can’t.

Eventually, we calm down a bit, and when we kiss this time it’s all-consuming, sucking the air out of my lungs. It feels like my love is fizzling to the top of my skin, and I feel it. ‘It’ being every indescribable emotion in our kisses this past year, but this time I know what it is: true, unadulterated, uninhibited love. I am in love with my best friend, who is now my boyfriend, and I don’t care who knows it— as long as he does.

His fingers press bruisingly into my hips before he pulls back just enough to look at me.

“Can we go home?” He whispers sheepishly, brushing some hair out of my face tenderly. “I’m kind of tired of sharing you with the public.”

I huff a laugh. “I know exactly what you mean.” I lean forward to kiss him one last time before pulling back to lace our fingers together, squeezing tightly. “Please— take me home, D.”

I don’t have to tell him twice.

---

tagged: @rogershoe @heyrowena @yunsh-17 @trenko-heart @dylxnshxrmxn

#THE END!!!!#can you believe it?!#daniel sharman fluff #daniel sharman x oc #daniel sharman fanfiction #daniel sharman fanfic #daniel sharman fic #daniel sharman imagine #yellow lights

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mintseesaw · 4 years

Text

ngayong gabi | kth

translation. tonight

pairing: boyfriend!taehyung x reader

genre: smut, established relationship au, pwp

word count: 2.1k

warnings: explicit content, soft dom!taehyung, sub!reader, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, slight orgasm denial, mention of reader being sexually harassed in a club // rating: 18+

↳ an entry for the drabble game Paraluman Playlist requested by @baepsaesbae. Niki!!!! I hope you enjoy reading this short piece of steamy sesh with the ever lethal man sir kim taehyung hfhgdhfshdx

song rec: frozen by sabrina claudio

With a distinct click on the electronic smart door lock indicating that the door has unlocked, you push yourself inside the apartment. Your vision, hazy. You feel the ground shake beneath your feet. Or was it just your unsteady stance? You couldn’t tell.

As you kick the door close, your body sways a little more, causing you to collide against the back of the door with a thud. You groan as the pain sears in your back from the impact. The grip of your fingers on your purse loosens and falls to the marble floor, hurriedly taking hold of the knob to keep yourself up.

The spell of the alcohol seems a little stronger than you have estimated. Thank god you managed to get yourself home in one piece. You impatiently wait until you gather enough strength to crawl your way into your bedroom, or perhaps, find your boyfriend—whichever occurs first.

You didn’t know what time it was, but it’s late. You know, though not too late for your friends to leave the club just yet. You were frustrated, almost regretting not bringing your boyfriend with you even though the night out was solely meant for you and your friends to enjoy. You left rather soon, baffled and a little shaken up to have been touched inappropriately by a stranger who deemed you a willing prey just because they saw you alone in the booth in a skimpy dress on while your friends are occupied somewhere else, probably sucking faces with strangers they just met in the club.

With sluggish steps, you pad through the quietness of the apartment you share with Taehyung, tripping a few times while taking each of your heels off and tossing them on the floor unceremoniously.

The urge to throw up at bay, however, your intention to find your boyfriend now gone the minute you realized the apartment is almost dead with minimal fluorescence on, already concluding where you’d most likely locate him.

You didn’t know how long it took you to get to the bedroom. But as you push the door open, you call his name in a whimper.

Silence.

Even with only the lamp on placed on his bedside table, your clouded vision immediately landed on his figure there on the bed –sleeping.

God you missed him so much. It was not even that long since you left. In fact, he saw you to the door as you were about to leave hours ago, convincing you to stay with him. His persuasion failed him to earn your yes. Yet here you are, sulkily crossing the distance, determined to get what your tipsy, needy self wants from him.

The moment you climbed onto the bed, you straddled his waist. A bubbly giggle reverberates through the empty, noiseless room as your upper body landed flushed on top of him. Your reckless movement causes Taehyung to stir, but not enough to wake him.

Your hand disappears in between your bodies, sneaking beneath his cotton shirt to graze the defined muscles of his lean stomach through the pad of your fingers. Your mouth began its journey at his jaw to the skin of his neck, and pausing there to nip a spot you’ve once bruised with your teeth and tongue before.

It was that moment that you evoked a reaction from him, sure enough that you woke him up this time.

“Hmm… Babe?” You hear him murmur not even a second later, his voice so deep and made incredibly hoarse from his post-slumber state.

He caught your hand on his stomach, restraining the brush of your fingers which leaving tingles enough for goosebumps to appear on his arms.

“You drunk, baby?” He asks, pushing your hair out of your face to catch a glimpse of your face. You meant to answer him with a no but a moan accidentally slips out of your throat hearing the deep register of his voice. You swear the sound alone could make you twitch in places only ever touched by his cock and fingers.

You shake your head, “I miss you, Tae.” You whine, nudging your head deeper on the crook of his neck.

“Uh-uh. I can smell a strong scent of alcohol in you. How did you manage to get home?”

You grumble, “Can we not talk about it...” He couldn’t have possibly missed the need lacing in your voice.

“Alright. Rest, love.” Taehyung coos, teasing you. He was half-way through pushing himself up to move your body off of him, but you protested right away.

He smiles, amused to have seen you so needy like this.

“Hmm, then let me see my baby.” He purrs while your face remains hidden out of his sight.

You did as you were told, leveling your head above him.

He was right. You’re in no way near sober. Your half-lidded eyes, flushed cheeks and the lingering smell of alcohol couldn’t convince him otherwise. The corners of his lips twitch so sexily, and you nearly moan at the sight.

“Ahh, just as I thought. How many shots have you had?” He asks so gently, yet so dangerously.

“I don’t know.” You mumble honestly, cowering back.

His palm traveled onto your nape to shift your face to hover his. Taehyung caught your jaw, nibbling gently that has you immediately sighing in return.

“What did I tell you, hmm?”

Your lips pressed into a thin line, refusing to give him an answer. You feel your body sweat from the heat made by the alcohol in your system and the warmth emitting from his body. Burying your face on his shoulder, you began an experimental roll of your hips against his pelvis, rubbing your center against his clothed sex. That alone made you cry out in joy.

“Baby…” He warns, loosely gripping your hips as if to test to you further, however, you could care less of his threat now as the friction has already given you something to establish the pleasure you have been craving from him the second you left the club so early than intended.

“Taehyung, please...” You whimper next to his ear, feeling his crotch grow beneath his cotton pajamas through the stimulus you initiated.

You hear him hiss. “You’re drunk, baby… we shouldn’t…” Taehyung mumbles in obvious difficulty, like he was in pain.

“I don’t care. Please fuck me!” You beg weakly.

As your feeble of a strength wavers, your movement turns sloppier. Taehyung acknowledged your struggle. You felt his arms pull you closer from his hold, and the next thing you know, he flipped your bodies both so that he’s hovering above you now. He nudges your thighs apart with his knee, giving him an easy access to your center. His fingers push your panties aside, finding your slick folds.

“Fuck, baby you’re soaking already. You want my cock that much, huh?”

“So much—“

Another moan tears out of you, failing to finish what you were supposed to say just as Taehyung sinks his two digits inside you without a warning. He pushes them until his digits are knuckled deep, making sure to curl them. His thumb began rubbing circles on your clit, tormenting you over and over.

Your back arches, stars evading your sight from the peak of your pleasure that only his fingers have evoked in a span of seconds.

“Oh please, right there!“

Yet, to your utter dismay, Taehyung deliberately withdrew his fingers. In a flash, he captures your mouth to swallow your sobs while you wallow from the loss of his touch.

His other hand skillfully releases his erection in no time, giving his thick length a few pumps as his mouth tries to distract you, consoling you from the orgasm he had deprived you off through his fingers’ penetration.

Taehyung waited no more, aligns his tip in your entrance and in one fluid motion, sinks his length to the hilt.

“Fuck!” You cry out, tossing your head back in frenzy and the excruciating stretch of your muscles incredibly wide to welcome his thickness. You’re no stranger to his glorious cock. He’s not your first, you’ve had a few casual fucks before him. Yet, no one in your past could compare to the size of his girth like how his long, slender fingers look so huge compared to yours. Every single time he fucks you, the initial sting that comes along in his entrance is a merciless reminder just how huge he is.

Taehyung tugs your leg up around his waist to allow himself to penetrate deeper in you. Cupping his face, you hold his dark gaze back, loving the way they pierce through you, feasting at you as if you are the only woman who can make him feel this way.

You cut the eye contact too soon as his deep lunges constantly pokes your sweet spot inside, making your eyes clenched so tightly, as tight as the muscles down there as they continue to contract from the steady penetration of his cock.

“Tae –“ You mewl just as your body involuntarily shudders, your back contorting from the aphrodisiac waves crashing through your body. The palms grasping his face loosen only to fist material of the sheets beneath you. Taehyung took the sight in with a devious smirk curling on the corners of his mouth as his teeth grazes the shell of your ear, and murmuring sweet nothings next to your ear every now.

If you’re tipsy few moments ago, you’re sure all the remnants of drunkenness in your system have evaporated into the heated atmosphere in the semi-dark room and was replaced by something much more intense and powerful. You could feel it approaching, your moans were becoming heavily difficult to hold back. Taehyung took it as his cue to speed up his pace.

His name, the only thing your mouth has managed to chant with every firm thrust he delivers. Once again, he latches his mouth onto the skin of your neck, taking in all of the audible evidences of your pleasure.

Recognizing the tightening of his muscles in his stomach, the knot building up at the pit of his stomach as your core grips him so deliciously tight, he couldn’t hold back a feral growl vibrating from chest.

“That’s it, baby. Come for me.” He demands, giving you powerful impulses until your muscles clamp around him.

If not for his cotton shirt on, Taehyung knew there would be fresh cuts marking on his skin the way your fingers dig so deep on his shoulders as you brace yourself from the imminent end.

“There! Please, oh fuck!” You sob as you feel yourself convulse. Your body jerks forcefully as delightful cries fill the room following the intense surge of pleasure rippling through your lower region and into your body, sucking your energy into emptiness.

Even with you limping beneath his body, Taehyung relentlessly hammers into you both riding you out of your orgasm and to further push himself closer to the edge.

“Yes, fuck baby, so good, so tight. So beautiful… only mine.” Taehyung continues to splutter sweet nothings beside your ear with his hips ceaselessly ramming against yours.

You watch above as you Taehyung in dazed of the pleasure it gives him being inside you. Pride emanates from you at the thought of making him this vulnerable despite the power he holds on you. He loves your submission and the control he has over you, yet every time his orgasm hits him, all of it vanishes, indulging his pleasure with nothing but delicateness twinkling in his eyes. Just as now as he comes undone above you with unrestrained rumbles reverberating in his chest. He’s so lost and almost helpless.

His pounding becomes greedy and deeper as spurts of his thick liquid fill your walls, tearing another shudder through you when tingles began sparking in your veins. His prurient growls had stopped as he distracted himself instead through bruising a spot on your neck. Yet his movements didn’t cease, not until he made sure he had emptied his load inside you.

And as he carefully pulls himself out, you feel yourself dripping from your combined bodily fluids as it oozes out of you. When he finally calms down, he scoops your back in his arm and flipped your bodies with ease, placing you flushed on his side. Still fully clothed with your sticky body, you shift uncomfortably.

His arms enclose over your back, pulling you impossibly closer to him, tucking your head in the crook his neck. He kisses the side of your head. “Sweet dreams, baby.” He murmurs one last last time, smiling, loving the way you’re pliantly snugging in his side.

A sudden thought crosses his mind, but quickly pushes aside the thought of you suffering from a hangover the following morning while he lets himself relish the feel of you in his arm tonight.

*heavily unedited

#paralumanplaylist #bayanihanboost #btsguild #bangtanarmynet #btswritingcafe #cypherwritersnet #btsbookclub #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #taehyung x y/n #taehyung x you #taehyung fanfic #taehyung scenarios #taehyung imagines #kim taehyung #bts smut

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wulfies-kpop-fanfics · 3 years

Text

Savior → Kim Namjoon

↳ Pairing: Namjoon/Reader

↳ Word count: 3,757

↳ AU: Police Officer!BTS

↳ Warnings: Mention of rape, conception caused by rape, violence, captivity, involuntary bondage

⁙ Summary: While investigating a crime ring, officer Kim Namjoon advocates for the rescue of the final living captive, who has just fallen pregnant.

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

“Stop screaming!”

Your voice went quiet, your lips closing as best they could over your tightly bound ball gag. You tasted metal, lapping up blood that trickled into your mouth from your cracked lips. More drool trickled down your chin, the replacement for your long dried up tears of pain. Your throat felt even rawer once you had stopped screaming, to the point that you wished you were still doing so. After being yelled at, you knew it was a bad idea. So, you decide to follow the instructions of the distant voice and silently endure the burning pain searing your throat.

You honestly had no idea how you came to be in this situation. For as long as your memory could recall, you’ve been chained to this bed, existing in the darkness, a small room. A hospital cot, small and narrow, covered by a thin and ratty mattress with only a moth-eaten pillow for you to lay your head-on. Ankles bound to the posts by handcuffs: the skin bound, bleeding and scabbing over from your struggle against the restraints.

Sometimes you would be wearing a straitjacket, white and scratchy cloth. It was old, yellowed and rank, tattered and ripped. Your arms would be bound across your chest, perfect braces for missionary. You could have laughed at yourself, feeling the draft through the hole that was cut into the crotch whenever someone entered the room. Sometimes the hole was covered up by a metal chastity belt, most likely to bar you from touching yourself. Not that you could, anyway.

Sometimes you would be nearly naked, everything out for the world to see, hands bound by rope, zip ties or more metal cuffs against your back and only the belt to cover you. Perfect for being taken from behind, face shoved into your pillow. One thing that always remained was your ball gag, only taken out for 5 minutes each day to feed you. You could not speak words, swallow what was left of your saliva or bite your tongue. If you tried to kill yourself when the gag was removed, you would not be fed, your captors instead deciding to whip you. You knew there were scars all over your back, more recent wounds still bandaged and itchy.

This was the horror of being trapped, wherever you were. Your room was extremely small, only large enough for your bed, a humidifier and a desk where a doctor would sometimes sit. You would never leave this room except for when you were allowed to use the restroom or when the doctor needed more room to examine you. Men would come in here to remove the belt, but you often forced yourself into unconsciousness to deal with whatever happened when they were there. Still, you knew what happened. The wetness and aches between your legs told you as much whenever you awakened.

That was life, and you could do nothing but deal with it. You were at the mercy of these people, no matter what you could plausibly try. They fed you, treated wounds they inflicted, rented you out. There was next to no light coming into your room despite the large window across from your bed on the opposite wall, so you could enjoy nothing. Sometimes your doctor would turn on the desk’s lamp, but you were often blindfolded so that your eyes wouldn’t become irritated - therefore you couldn’t even remember what real, yellow light looked like.

The smallest amount of artificial light came through the large window connecting your room to the hallway most likely from a ceiling light located further down the hall. It was minimal, blue, dim and barely noticeable, but it did give you the ability to see if people were looking in on days you weren’t blindfolded. Often you would see drooling, scruffy men with unkempt facial hair and moth ate clothes. Other times you would see handsome and young men in sleek and expensive-looking outfits, and finally, you would even more often see a security guard peering in with his arm resting up against the glass.

His facial features were hardly ever something you could see through the dim light, but you could still feel his intense gaze through the darkness. He never smiled, never said anything through the window as the scruffy men would, would never stand with both hands extending downwards to where you could not see as the men in suits. The only thing that was uniquely his was the hat he was always wearing, adorned with a golden badge that would at times catch what little light there was and glint brilliantly on the ceiling.

If you had been staring at the ceiling, like you were right now, you could watch the little light show. That would indicate that he was standing there, silently watching you. Sometimes you would wonder what his purpose was. Since you were so weak and restrained, there was no way you were going to escape or scream loud enough that someone would come to rescue you. Sometimes you wondered if he had a weapon on him. He most likely did, there have been times when you’ve heard distant gunshots. Sometimes you wished that he would just shoot you and end your suffering: you had figured out a long time ago that you weren’t going to leave alive. You thought being shot might be the best way to really get out.

No matter what you speculated, you were most likely wrong. He would just stand there, arm pressed against the glass. All he did was stare in. He never entered the room or even attempted to communicate through the glass. While his stares didn’t make your skin crawl like everyone else you’ve seen here, it didn’t make you feel any better.

“How long does this have to go on?” Namjoon whispered through his phone, hidden outside the facility in a small nook where he could make his phone calls without being suspicious. He looked over his surroundings, the night only lit up by the numerous light posts littered around the field. They would go out soon, indicating that Namjoon would either have to leave for the night or retreat into his excuse for a room. Not that he could complain about his situation, you had it far worse than he did.

“Not much longer. You’re sure that (Y/N) is the last girl alive in there?” The voice on the other line asked. Namjoon sighed, nodding even in the knowledge that his superior could not see him.

“I’m sure. They’ve moved Crystal, but I was never given access to any of the girls’ files other than (Y/N)’s. She’s the last one alive in this place specifically. Either they’re starting to catch on, moving them all to other facilities, or worse… leaving them to die of malnutrition as they move onto different products.” Namjoon sighed again at the use of the term. “Please… I just want to save at least her.”

“We first need to make sure that we have enough of an advantage against the ring that’s orchestrating it, to begin with, special agent. If we can’t take them down, saving (Y/N) will be for nothing.”

Namjoon clenched his free hand into a fist, the other one holding his phone so tightly that it might break, “Chief, please.”

The man on the other line sighs. “Wait until tomorrow, at least. I’ll think about it more tonight, go over it with your team. Get ready to take a call around midday.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Come, dear, I’ve got to check you again,” Dr Woo calls softly from the door, closing it and sitting down at the desk the top of your head is currently facing. You can’t respond, and perhaps that is the doctor’s personal way to torment you like the others that come in. He places a few things on the ground by your bed, but you can’t muster the strength to sit up or lean far enough over to look at what it was.

Dr Woo moves from the desk to stand over you, a clipboard in his hand. From the board he picks up your blindfold, watching your reaction, eyes widening as you see it. You hate that blindfold. It smells like you do after the men come in before the doctor comes in to wash you and put your belt back on. The cloth, however, is a different story from you. You don’t believe has ever been washed. It was once white, you think, but it has since been tinted with stains that even you could see in the minimal light. It goes over your eyes despite your whines of protest, your vision was stolen away from you once more.

Dr Woo wipes the drool from your cheeks and chin, soon moving away to place the clipboard on the desk. You hear the tapping of the board against the surface, waiting for Dr Woo to grab you and sit you up straight. But, it doesn’t come.

“(Y/N), sweetie, I need you to answer some questions,” he cooed at you. You would spit on him if you could. You hated how patronizing he was, how condescending he was and how he pretended to be kind. “Nod for yes and shake for no. Understand?”

You nod. You have no choice but to answer, and if you lie, you know that whatever came after that was worse than telling the truth.

“Have you vomited within the last 24 hours?”

Shake for no. If you did, you’d probably have choked on it.

“Have you been experiencing any abdominal cramps recently?”

Nod for yes.

“Okay,” you hear a pen scratching against paper. “Have your breasts felt sore or tender recently?”

Nod for yes.

“Have you been feeling nauseous?”

You try to scoff, but it sounds more like a gargle than anything else.

“I have no patience for sass, (Y/N). Nod or shake.”

Nod for yes.

“Okay, one more question. Have you been feeling more fatigued or sluggish than usual?”

What was that supposed to mean? You’re almost never moving. You feel tired all the time. You try to sigh, and nod.

“Alright. Thank you, (Y/N). Now, I’m going to need you to sit up for me so I can undo your buckles.” You hear Dr Woo move again, the cuffs on your ankles being taken off, but you don’t bother to try and kick him. You’re too exhausted. You don’t move at all until Dr Woo’s hands are under your head and your back, lifting you into a sitting position.

He scoots you until you’re at the edge of your bed. “I’m going to remove your pyjamas, okay?”

Pyjamas? Yeah right. Soon enough all the buckles of your jacket are removed, as well as your belt. His hands are on your breasts briefly, nothing you’re not used to, but you were sore, so his examination of you was more painful than before. He’s then taking your blood pressure and examining your lungs with an ice-cold stethoscope.

“(Y/N), I have a little bucket here for you, it’s right in front of you, so none of it will get on the floor or on your bed. Can you please urinate for me?”

Was someone else in here with the doctor? He’s never had you relieve yourself in this room. Whatever. If he wasn’t going to get you to stand up and escort you to the bathroom, you guessed that this was your only chance to let go today, so you do as he asks.

“Good girl,” Dr Woo praises. Something small is placed against the desk, you can hear the small tap of it hitting the surface of the desk. You’re soon laid back down with your belt and jacket on, your ankles returned to their place in the metal cuffs chained to your bed.

Usually, after his examination, Dr Woo either gives you a shot, wipes lashing marks (if any) and your ankle scabs, or just leaves. However, you know that he hasn’t left the room. He’s waiting for something. You tense up, wondering what his motive could have been. It would be unlikely that he’d tell you, but you wished that today was an exception as your curiosity outweighed your pain.

After what you assumed was a few minutes, a faint ‘click’ sounded in your right ear, coming from whatever the doctor placed on the desk. You heard him pick it up with a quiet “hmmm”. He stood, pacing across the room a few times before turning off the lamp, removing your blindfold and exiting the room.

There were times when you could hear faint conversations happening outside your room. Hoping that Dr Woo would meet with someone just outside, you strained your ears and tilted your head toward the window with attentiveness. In a stroke of luck, two people appeared before the doctor, standing just inside your field of vision. Their faces were of course obscured by the darkness, but their silhouettes were mostly visible.

“We’ve got a problem,” you hear the doctor’s faint voice from outside. It was muted, but still discernible. More drool dribbled its way down your chin as you attempted to swallow out of nervousness.

“What is it, Woo? Is she?” Another voice came. It’s lighter than Woo’s but more harsh and sharp.

“Yes, she’s pregnant.”

Your eyes go wide. There’s another person inside of you? Inside this hell hole? Your chest tightened and you felt like you could cry, but you had long since wasted yourself of tears and the general dehydration barely kept your eyes from drying out in the first place. A choked breath leaves you. Why did this have to happen now?

“What are we going to do about it?” The third voice asked. It was deep, smoother, and much calmer.

“Either I take out her reproductive organs, remove the fetus which could damage her groin, I give her the shots I’ve been developing, or we kill her and find a new girl.”

“We can’t remove her ovaries or anything of the sort. Fixed girls don’t pull nearly as much money as she does. No damage to the groin, I don’t even want to risk it. How far along are your shots?” The second voice asked.

“I have to admit, not far, especially with the resources we have. It could kill her.”

“Fuck. I don’t know if we’ll ever find another girl as durable and as profitable as her...” Voice number two complains.

“But we might just have to.”

“Backup’s almost there, Namjoon. Are you sure that’s what they said?” Chief Jin asked.

“Yes, I’m sure. I was standing there with both of them as they talked about it. Right outside her room, too. I saw the test and everything.”

Jin sighs. “Then we really do have no choice. Do you have the key to (Y/N)’s room?”

“I don’t, but I know how to pick it.”

“Close enough. Get in there, get her out. She is the first priority. Your team will take care of the rest,” Jin instructs.

“10/4.”

You were startled out of sleep when the knob of your door began to jiggle wildly. “Fuck!” you heard over and over again in the seconds following. Your breathing became ragged. Did they decide to kill you? Where was Dr Woo? Isn’t he the one with the key? You turn your head towards the commotion, not bothering to move the rest of your body. Your neck pops uncomfortably, but an impromptu adjustment is the least of your worries. You couldn’t die, no matter how much you wanted to before. Not now, not while you had another life to protect.

When the door finally flew open, your body jolted in surprise. The silhouette of the security guard was standing in the doorway. Not exactly the executioner you were expecting, but you were getting ready to fight him regardless. He stares down at you, something you’re familiar with but still not exactly used to. The light coming from the hallway illuminates him a little more this time, revealing a round face, thick lips and teardrop-shaped eyes laced with concern.

“We don’t have much time, (Y/N),” he says, walking over to the end of your bed to pick the locks of the metal cuffs. You whine in confusion, wishing that the gag in your mouth was gone. Then again, did you even remember what it was like to do something other than scream? Did you remember how to talk?

“I’m special agent Kim Namjoon. I’ve been undercover here for almost a year, and it’s about time that I get you out,” he explains. “My friends are coming to get the bad guys while I carry you away.”

You sniffle in relief but stay still as your ankles are freed in the slight disbelief that this was actually happening. You’ve been here for a long time. You couldn’t even tell if it was daytime, night or even what day, month, or year it was anymore. Why would someone come for you now? Let alone the person who had been constantly staring at you in silence?

Namjoon slowly moves his hands to your head, raising his eyebrows and waiting for a nod before lifting your head and undoing the clasp that kept the gag in your mouth, successfully allowing you to breathe properly and put your jaw back in the position it was supposed to be in. You lick your dry lips, swallowing in satisfaction and moving your jaw side to side to pop it.

“Can you speak?” He asks, his hands now moving to your back and under your knees, lifting you into his arms.

You shake your head. There was no point in trying.

“Okay, let’s get you home.” He leans to something attached to the pocket on the chest of his jacket. “I’ve got her. Let’s go.”

It wasn’t long after that Namjoon broke into a run, effectively but not intentionally jostling you around. The movement began to hurt your head, eventually causing you to pass out.

When you awoke, you found yourself in another dark room, still brighter than the one you had just been occupying not long ago. Your surroundings weren’t exactly identifiable, you were once again living in little more than the place where you were held captive, but it didn’t feel or smell like death and sex.

You licked your lips. No ball gag. You lifted your leg as best you could. No ankle cuffs. Your arms were resting at either side of your body. No straitjacket. You rolled your head from side to side. A fully fluffed and warm pillow was beneath you. You wiggled your hips. No belt. A wave of warmth and feathery softness washed over you, indicating that a thick blanket had gently been spread over you.

“So, you’re awake,” a voice softly calls from your left. When you spot Namjoon, he smiles. “Don’t try and talk yet, Dr Summers says your throat is still raw.”

You nod.

“You’re in the General Marine Hospital if you’re wondering. How are you feeling? Alright?”

You nod again. He continues to smile.

“Good. Here, I have something for you.” From his lap, Namjoon hands you a teddy bear, fuzzy and soft. He places it in your hand, allowing your fingers to weakly curl over its hand and feel the fabric. “His name is Ryan. Take good care of him, okay?”

“Okay,”

“Shh, I know you will.”

Namjoon continued to sit with you, through the occasional visit from Dr Summers and the filing in and out of his team of police officers. Officers Kim Taehyung, Kim Seokjin, Jung Hoseok, Min Yoongi, Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook were all very sweet, determined to bring justice to the men who hurt you. They would bring small bowls of jello and little popsicles for you along with cups of coffee for Namjoon whenever they visited. They would ask the occasional yes or no question before taking their leave again. But Namjoon stayed.

He would fall asleep in his chair, sometimes with his head leaning back, sometimes with his forehead pressed against the edge of your bed’s mattress. Somehow, you didn’t mind. You felt grateful to him, having saved your life and all. You wondered if he had a family, and what they would think about him never leaving the side of a beaten, nearly dead pregnant girl. You wondered if you had a family, but somehow, you felt that the doubt in your chest was telling you the truth. If you had a family, they’d be here.

Over time, the investigation ended and six months later you attended the trial of your captors through a video call, still only able to answer yes or no questions, Dr Summers’ fear of you never being able to speak again rendering you from answering any complicated questions. But even when Namjoon was assigned to other cases, he would still come every day to see you, to make sure you were okay and if you were taking good care of Ryan.

He would hold your hand, stroking the palm gently with his thumb as he smiled down at you, his former intense gaze relaxing into something you might have been able to see as affection. That alone was something that made your smile return. His stories were things that motivated you to eat. His encouragement and help also gave you the determination to learn how to walk again.

Perhaps after all this, you find it in your heart to feel something other than pain.

On the day you gave birth to Jihoon, you were finally able to speak. You had to have a C-Section, and you spent another three days in a medically induced coma. That was nothing, and you knew it was to keep your son safe. You felt as if Jihoon blessed you, somehow not loathing the fact that the biological father was some stranger who was a part of your torture. To you, little Jihoon’s father was Namjoon, the man who saved your life, the man who gave you life, the man who cured your doubts. The man you fell in love with.

“You know,” Namjoon said after you reawoke, little Jihoon cooing in his arms, “he already looks like you.”

“If…” you try, Namjoon shushing you. “If,” you persist, “if he looks like me, then… he’s going to be brave and smart like you.”

Namjoon smiled down at you. “I hope he’s as brave as both of us.”

#kim namjoon #namjoon x reader #fanfic #reader insert #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop fluff #kpop angst #bts #kim namjoon x reader #bts scenarios

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yawnjunie · 4 years

Text

so you’re the artsy type, huh ❦ cbg (1)

Genre: fluff, university au, crack (get ready for a bad take on comedy)

Pairing: broke artist!reader x art sponsor!beomgyu

Word count: 7k

Summary: After spending way too much time chasing after an impossible dream, you weren’t too sure you wanted to continue with your lifelong passion— art. One eventful day at the museum steered you onto a road full of twists and turns, and you unexpectedly found yourself wading deeper into murky water with your new employer.

A/N: a huge thank you to @noiaeu and @halohyuka for being my beta readers! anyways here is a long overdue fic that was a 20k+ word monstrosity but is now a series. happy reading!

— blu and struz

You tapped your feet absentmindedly against the grimy tiles of the cheap burger chain as you waited. The atmosphere that usually felt bustling and welcoming now felt stuffy as your stomach churned each passing second. The waitress walked past your seat as she served the customers behind you, the fragrant aroma of the burgers on her tray prompting a vicious growl from your stomach. Sighing, you checked the time on your phone: 8:52pm. Scrolling past the inactive conversations with your “friends” (you didn’t really know what to call them because you tried to ask them out and got rejected; you’d kept those conversations anyway because you were too attached to them), you sent a quick message to a number you wish you didn’t need to text today. Without a second thought, you picked up your belongings and left the small burger shop.

Thank goodness, you knew just the perfect place to drown your sorrows in.

You called for the nearest taxi to the small food shop by the name of Mrs. Lee’s Mandu House.

“What happened this time?” A stout lady with an apron asked, peeking her head out of the kitchen, setting down a large bowl of dumplings in front of you. She made her way to the condiments shelf. “Kimchi?”

“Yes, please. I got stood up again.” You grumbled, stuffing a large dumpling into your mouth ravenously. Then, speaking through mouthfuls of food, you continued. “Maybe I should just stop trying altogether. Change my major to agricultural studies and move to the countryside while I’m at it.”

Food had never tasted so good! The savory filling of the dumplings literally melted in your mouth, and soon the blaring sound of the old AC and the sound of the kdrama from the TV had just blended into the background. It was nice not having to listen to anything.

“Aw, don’t say that.” The woman replied as she set down a pot of kimchi and a plate of kimbap on your table. The friendly ahjumma took her seat across from you and set down a bag of melon seeds. “Trust me, it’s going to be hard. You’re just in your first year of college! You’ll get there someday.” Then, she continued on to tell you about other people she knew who had it harder than you, but all that faded into the background noise, along with the AC and the TV. That sentence was the only thing you heard, and although there weren’t any lemons in the soup, everything that you ate suddenly started tasting sour. Sometimes, even the best food cannot drown out the bitterest words.

You’ll get there someday.

Foomp. You flopped onto your bed with a small grunt as your back met the soft mattress. Throwing off your glasses to the side, you massaged your eyeballs and then looked at the ceiling. It was grey. The same grey that you saw before going to sleep at night, the very same grey that greeted you when you awoke in the morning to another unexciting day. The more you stared at it, the more the popcorn ceiling looked just like a grey mass with a few monotone specks here and there.

You were always told to look to the future and stop dwelling on the past. And that was a long shot, given that all you saw in front of you was a blurry ceiling.

What is this feeling? You let yourself sink a little deeper into your mattress, lazily shifting your gaze to the left, where you saw your huge Gabriel Garcia Marquez poster taped to the wall. Solitude. Looking back, you supposed that was how you’d been living your life thus far.

Doing jobs here and there, never really achieving anything big.

Single as hell.

It was days like this that made you feel not quite sad, but just really demotivated. A reminiscent smile flickered on your face as you turned your head to stare at the wall, unto which the light that peeked through the overcast sky cast a faint shadow. Words like “lonely” and “outcast” didn’t mean a thing to you. The fact of the matter was, you didn’t have anyone, and the universe sure didn’t put an effort to sugarcoat that fact.

Rolling lazily to the edge of the bed, you finally sat yourself up. You walked over to your desk, pulled out the wooden chair, and turned on the lamp. Then, you took a moment to tie up your hair before looking down at what was lying under the spotlight of the lamp.

Amidst the blizzard of eraser shavings and the familiar scent of freshly shaved wood stood the lead outline of a girl. Shoulder-length hair up in a high ponytail, a soft, rounded nose, chapped lips, and blank, unsuspecting eyes with dark circles hanging below them. Looks like she’s never seen a day of joy in her life. Looking into the mirror standing to the left on your desk, a very tired girl with a dark face stared right back. Dusting off the eraser shavings into the trash bin next to the desk, you commended yourself for the superb self-portrait.

At the insistence of the tightness in your right wrist and the crick in your neck, you set the pencil down and extended your arms to stretch your back. When your eyes fell upon the drawing once more, a wave of disappointment washed you back onto the shore of frustration. Yet another addition to the ever-growing pile of wasted white paper. A part of you argued that art was not a waste, which was true enough. Art made by you, however, was a different story.

What happened to me? All that time, effort, and energy never really amounted to much. After all, you’d only seen the world in black and white. It was as if someone took a giant paint tube and squirted an awful lot of grey paint everywhere.

After all, who’d ever heard of an artist who couldn’t tell orange from blue?

–––

Even the song playing in the background mocked you with every word.

♪ I see trees of green,

red roses too ♪

♪ I see them bloom,

for me and you ♪

♪ and I think to myself

what a wonderful world ♪

You glanced around tiredly as you saw your classmate’s boyfriend carry a stack of canvases for them. For someone who, one: saw the world in grey, and two: had never gone on a date, the world was anything but wonderful. You felt your eyelids drooping despite the hard, wooden stool jutting into your buttcheeks. Drowsily, you turned your gaze to your art pieces. Noticing the other students coming in to set up their pieces, you straightened up your back and set your bag down on the stool. You took a deep breath and swung your arms nervously in an attempt to garner a sense of purpose and hope. You got this! You whispered encouraging phrases to yourself under your breath, smiling at the students who bothered to greet you first.

Today was your first time participating in a student exhibition. Although it was quite unconventional for first year students to be showcasing their work in the advanced exhibition, your teacher had been nice enough to make a spot for you. Well, it was more like you practically begging her to consider you, because of your current family situation. You terribly did not want to sound like that broke college student™, but sometimes, a little bit of courage to fight against the stone cold reality was useful. And of course, Ms. Kim, being the benevolent soul she was, granted you special rights to participate.

This year, the exhibition was being held in the empty room at the Museum of Modern Art. Attendance of the students was optional, but a good handful of them came, hoping to get a professional review, or even a sponsor for their art. The moment you walked in, you held your breath—the entire room was empty, all six surfaces painted white. It was the brightest room you’d ever been in, yet the temperature seemed to drop 100 degrees.

It’s fine. This time, things will be different, you told yourself in an attempt to shake off the dread that settled in the pit of your stomach. Fifth time’s the charm, after all.

It may have been your first time participating in a college exhibition, but you’d participated in countless art competitions as a kid. You were like a wildfire, and there was no award for a competition you entered that you didn’t win. Now, it felt like you were back to base one. After all, who has that easy of a life? Those days of your easy childhood life were long gone.

You tried not to think much as you sat uncomfortably next to your paintings. For the first hour or so, you made a point to look each passing person in the eye, a wide smile plastered on your face. The second hour, the corners of your mouth started to twitch beyond your control. By the third hour, you found yourself staring at people’s shoes more often than their faces. As the minutes ticked by, you kept your eyes trained intently on the floor, mouth pressed firmly closed. Glancing around the room, you tried to take your mind off of your worries. But you couldn’t help but be envious of your classmates, who were getting noticed by the professional guests.

That’s okay, there’s always next time. Guess today just wasn’t my day.

It was beginning to feel like no day was your day. A warm sensation pricked at the corners of your eyes when a voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Ma’am, excuse me.” A woman in a worn out blue outfit approached your stand.

Being as desperate as you were, you hastily wiped away your tears from all the yawning and slapped a smile on your face, mustering up the peppiest voice you could manage. “Hey! How can I help you? As you can see, I work exclusively in grayscale, and I mostly do portrai–” “Miss–” the lady interrupted, “it’s closing time. Could you please pack your things?”

Upon processing the sight of the tattered mop in her hand, realization hit you like a truck, and not just any ordinary truck— it was a Belaz 75710 filled with 496 tons of rocks and sharp glass. That was a fun fact you stumbled upon while scrolling on Instagram; the fact that you somehow retained this useless information made you silently curse yourself. Your smile was frozen in place as you gave a series of curt nods. “Oh. Okay, I’ll start packing.”

The kind woman nodded back and started to walk away, but stopped and turned just a few steps away. “Don’t feel too down. Sometimes, life just doesn’t go the way you want it to. It’ll get better, trust me.”

“Yeah.” You replied coldly, not bothering to mask your sadness. Attempting to muster a small smile in gratitude for her kind words, you gave her a thumbs up before she left the room. It kind of hurt, getting pity from the janitor. But in a way, you felt a little comforted. At least you knew you weren’t the only person struggling. Robotically, you placed the canvases onto your utility cart one by one, then started folding up the easels. When the janitor’s footsteps had faded away, the only thing disrupting the silence was the rain.

Plip. Plop. With the accompaniment of the beating of the raindrops on the rooftop that rang in your ear like a dull symphony, it only seemed natural for your tears to fall. And this time, there was nobody to interfere with your sob session.

And on that afternoon, in the empty art hall, you cried your heart out. There was only one question that gnawed at the back of your mind relentlessly, like a famished dog on a bone twice its size. Should I just give up on art? The thought of it just made you cry even harder. Art was your everything.

From the moment you’d grasped the thin body of the paintbrush on your doljabi, you’d fallen in love with art. Throughout your childhood, you’d spent your days drawing. From drawing on plain computer paper to painting entire murals on your bedroom walls - you did it all. Everyone was sure you’d become an artist when you grew up. You’d even kept a money jar by your bed, which you’d used to store money for new art supplies and eventually, art school. You were happy. You had a good eye for color.

Thunder crashed outside as that memory resurfaced in your mind. Back then, you drew like there was no tomorrow when you could see colors. Until the world became dark when your colors, your precious colors were taken away. And the world remained dark ever since. They all pitied you, sending a sigh your way in condolence for your loss. You didn’t need or want their pity, of course. All you’d ever wanted was an answer, a reason to why they left your eyes.

You wanted to blame it on something, but what could you do? Every night you prayed, praying desperately for your colors back. But every morning, the ceiling remained grey. So did the sky when you walked to work. Pushing your shabby cart with a loose wheel down the hallway full of eccentric art pieces, you didn’t even spare a glance at them. Well, other than to avoid being noticed by the few people who were still in the museum, to which you hid your swollen face in the opposite direction and choked back your sobs. Well, what can you do now, y/n? It’s not your first time participating in an exhibition anyway. There’s probably someone out there having it harder than you, so suck it up! Everything will be better once you get back home…

Just when you were nearing the entrance of the museum, you heard a different pair of footsteps from your own behind you.

“Hey.” You jumped out of your skin at the tap on your left shoulder. Caught by surprise, you found yourself stumbling backwards into your cart. You lost your footing and down crashed your rear end. By attempting to hold onto the cart handle for balance, your art pieces now seemed to fall in slow motion, the cart suspended in the air as your mouth hung open in horror. You reached out to grab it, but unfortunately, you were an aching 2 centimeters short of saving your artwork. The cart toppled on top of your canvases with a comical crack, wooden splinters flying everywhere. The empty utility cart squealed defeatedly as it toppled to its side, a loose wheel still spinning.

You felt your head spin even faster, as you grew increasingly frustrated by your inability to comprehend what had just happened. Holy shit.

Strewn across the floor, battered and broken, lay hours upon hours of your time, your hard-earned money, along with the last strains of your hope of becoming an artist. F*ck!

Eyes wide and mouth agape, you turned to face the perpetrator of the tragedy.

This is the part where he apologizes and promises to make it up to me, then gives me his contact info and we go on a date and he falls for me and we live happily ever after. Or so you hoped, you thought. The thought was so ridiculous that you could have burst out into laughter if it hadn’t been for the fact that the fruit of your blood, sweat, and tears was now a bunch of broken wood and torn cotton on the floor. F you and your last brain cell, y/n. Get yourself together and snap out of it. You were convinced that you were so sleep deprived from your K-drama binging session this morning at 4am that you’d convinced yourself that you were living the next episode.

Chances were low that the two of you would get together and live happily ever from an offense like this, but even so, he would have to compensate for the damages somehow. Now that you came back to reality, you realized that you couldn’t even make out what the guy in front of you looked like. “Okay, but what if he’s like, your next patron or something.” You don’t know if you muttered that out loud, but your odd behavior was really annoying you today. Shut up, it's not like he's Song Kang! Stop it! Nevertheless, you bet on the Balenciaga slides that he was wearing that he would pull out a business card the next moment.

You stared into the boy’s eyes expectantly and he met your gaze. You felt your pulse quicken as he opened his mouth to speak, eagerly awaiting your compensation. Hello hello, my next patron. This is the moment that marks my upgrade to a better life.

“I am so, so sorry about this.”

“You should be.”

As he spoke, the boy pulled his cap lower and threw on his hood. “Not just about me breaking your paintings, but also this.” Dammit, what have I gotten myself into?

And then he bolted.

🏃 💨

“Wha– hey! Where do you think you’re going?!”

He slammed his body against the glass door and ran into the rain while you followed in close pursuit. However, after a few wobbly steps, it occurred to you that you weren’t exactly dressed for the occasion, so you took off your heels and continued the hunt barefoot.

Still, even under normal circumstances, you weren’t much of a track star. Wearing a blazer with suit pants and no shoes wasn’t helping your chances either, and the weather didn’t seem to plan on making things any easier.

The two of you ran through the heavy rain like cat and mouse. Clenching your teeth and your fists, you chased after the boy. He ran about two blocks before you caught up to him. As your calves grew sore, you considered hurling one of your heels at him.

The boy slowed down for a couple of seconds, looking around frantically. Mr. Kim.....! I told you to wait for me out here—!

Heaving a sigh, he turned around and began to run in another direction. And although he'd hate to admit it, today was one of the days where he had no choice but to admit that his choice of footwear today was a fatal flaw.

Somehow, despite the odds against you, you weren’t the one who ate the pavement. The boy tripped over the curb and slammed into the sidewalk, bellyflopping straight into a gargantuan puddle. Those Balenciagas did not help him run through the rain very well. You laughed in triumph and squatted next to his almost-lifeless body.

“Gotchu now, you jer–”

Boom! The world went white for a second, illuminated by the blinding clap of lightning. In an instant, the downpour increased tenfold, the raindrops now feeling like bullets against your skin.

“Okay, maybe this isn’t the best place to have a conversation.”

–––

The two of you trudged through the rain—or, more accurately— you dragged the boy through the rain, your grip on his hoodie sleeve iron-tight. When you finally reached your car, you opened the passenger door and he went in obediently. From an outsider’s point of view, you might’ve been mistaken as an undercover cop. In fact, you were sure feeling like one as you apprehended the criminal.

You went around to the back and opened up the trunk, where after rifling through months' worth of empty bottles, fabric bags for shopping, and a variety of other car junk, you finally found your stash of somewhat clean clothes. After careful consideration, you chucked a worn hoodie and the swimming shorts you’d worn to the beach last year over the seat. Just in case, you also tossed your first-aid kit over. You threw your heels in and swapped them for a pair of nylon flip flops before slamming the trunk closed.

You went back to the passenger’s side and opened the door. Taking in the figure of the drenched and bleeding boy, you kind of felt sorry for him. Which was stupid, considering he had just wrecked your life’s work and made a run for it. You tilted your head back and sighed, trying to sort your thoughts out.

With all of your best art pieces now reduced to splinters, it was a cold, hard fact that you weren’t going to get a sponsor. Besides, even before they’d been smashed into smithereens, nobody had been willing to give you a chance. The probability of you finding a sponsorship was like the graph of the height of a ball thrown from a cliff at sea level, or the number √-1. It was not just in the negatives, but it was also imaginary.

Taking a sharp inhale, you talked as quickly as you could. “Listen. I’m going to go get what’s left of my art from the gallery. Just change your clothes and patch yourself up, then you can leave.” You paused to dig out a few crumpled dollars from your wallet, which you promptly threw at him.

“Here, take this to get a taxi. I don’t know how far you live, but that’s all I have. Don’t get me wrong– I still think you’re a massive schmuck. And there’s nothing you can do to fix the damage you’ve caused.” Despite your best effort to remain composed, your voice cracked a little at the end. You stopped talking before you were to break out into tears again.

Without waiting to hear what the douchebag had to say, you slammed the door closed and strode through the rain back to the gallery, where your pieces still lay broken on the ground where you’d left them. A part of you was hoping that maybe, by some magic or miracle, the whole thing had been a dream, and nothing really happened.

But reality was as cold as stone, and you were powerless to change it. So, as you always did when confronted with the unchangeable, you picked yourself up and carried on, struggling against the current.

By the time you wheeled the broken canvases back to your car, the boy was long gone, all traces of his presence vanished except for the dampness of the left side passenger seat. You buckled on your seatbelt and tuned into your favorite radio station, then sped off into the summer storm. The storm, your artwork, it was all so out of the blue– well, in your case, grey.

The situation on the freeway was like a stuffy nose: irritated and congested. In fact, it would’ve been faster to moonwalk down the road. To make matters even worse, instead of music, the radio station was streaming ad after ad. Is this even legal? Exasperatedly, you tuned into a different station, then another one, but to no avail; all of them were on ad break.

It was frustrating enough that the gallery was a complete flop, not to mention that your best art was demolished in a hit and run and that you were sitting soaking wet on a leather seat stuck in the middle of traffic. Now, even the radio had turned against you. You shut it off and sat in silence.

Thump. You sighed and leaned your head back against the seat, willing the migraine that was building up in your head to f*ck off. After craning your head to check the backseat one more time, to your vexation, you found that the asshat hadn’t even bothered to close the first aid kit.

Muttering obscenities under your breath, you reached for the kit, cracking your inflexible spine 4 times in the process. You rummaged through its contents, straightening them out, counting how many were left, and you were about to slam the lid closed when you saw the note.

XXX-XXX-XXXX

“Well, gee, that’s REAL helpful.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes at the ten numbers scrawled on the note. Your half a brain cell told you to quit being stupid and toss that note out the window.

The rest of your stupid self told you to call it. I mean, why not? You cursed yourself for how your brain worked– or rather, didn’t work– sometimes.

You licked your lips in brief contemplation before punching in the numbers in. The person on the other end picked up immediately.

“Hello, welcome to Papa John’s Pi–”

You hurled your phone into the backseats and ripped the note up, throwing the scraps into the air like confetti before continuing the wearisome ride down through the rain.

–––

It took an eternity, but you made it back to your apartment, where you promptly crashed onto the couch. As per usual, you spent the rest of your waking hours scrolling through baking videos, even though you had neither the ingredients nor the time to be making any of the confections. At around 8pm, exhausted from crying and the events of the day, you dozed off without having a bite of the frozen pizza that’d just finished baking in the oven.

Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt! Your dreamless slumber was disturbed by the vibration of a string of text notifications and the glow that lit up the dark ceiling. Still half-asleep, you blindly felt around for your phone and attempted to read the message through bleary eyes.

It was from an unknown number.

Rubbing your eyes to clear out the nasty gunk, you sat up and read the message again, this time with clearer vision.

[XXX-XXX-XXXX] Hello, sorry for ruining your paintings today. I will make it up to you.

[XXX-XXX-XXXX] Thanks for bothering to call, let’s meet at this address to talk about your compensation. My parents can’t know that I did this so it would be great if you could keep this a secret :(

What the f*ck. You muttered under your breath, eyes half shut. Did I call anyone? In your half-asleep state, you didn’t bother to recall. For a second, you considered blocking the number. But just in case this was just one of your dumbass friends who changed their number, you decided to give that person a reply.

[You] hello? is this papa john’s?? i would like a cheese pizza

[XXX-XXX-XXXX] oh sorry the voicemail was a prank for someone else

[XXX-XXX-XXXX] i’m the guy from the art museum earlier, remember

[You] okay why do you have my number

[XXX-XXX-XXXX] because you called me

[You] right. okay, what do you want

[You] unless you want to pay me back for all those damages back there, no i am not interested in anything else sry i’m a very busy person you know

You hesitated a second before pressing the send button. You’d just sent a lie; in fact, you weren’t really that busy. Apart from your part time job at the boba shop, you were actually quite free most of the time. During the summer, at least. In fact, your screen time had gone up by 42%, your daily average now totaling to a whopping 12 hours. After a minute or so of silence, you threw your head back onto your pillow and let out a loud sigh of relief. Peace at last! It also made you quite happy that the person who texted you was in the least, not some weird scammer.

Ping! You celebrated too soon. Reaching for your phone groggily, you read the new message.

[XXX-XXX-XXXX] okay then i was going to ask if you were free tomorrow

Am I being asked out? You squinted at your bright phone screen in the dark. You might have been nearsighted, but you weren’t illiterate in pick-up lines.

[XXX-XXX-XXXX] i want to return the clothes you lent me

[You] it’s fine, you can keep that

Oh good, he was talking about the clothes, not anything else. Your millisecond of relief ended quickly when he sent another message.

[XXX-XXX-XXXX] oh also it would be great if we could meet up anyway? i want to talk to you about something that i had been meaning to say for a while

Oh, god. I knew it wasn’t just about the clothes. Lonely as you were, you would shoot yourself in the foot if you got into any relationship without landing a stable job or having any money. Scoffing amusedly, you stared at the screen as he continued to type. But dating someone like this? Never in a million years. Turning over to your other side, you thought about the many ways you could reject him.

[You] no sorry :(

[XXX-XXX-XXXX] we should set a date at the cannoli restaurant to talk about your compensation costs. i’m extremely sorry for ruining your beautiful artwork, and i know that my apologies will do nothing to change your current situation. since this is my fault, i’m willing to pay any amount you request (and i’ll pay to the best of my capabilities)... i’m assuming $50,000 would be enough to cover the costs for most of the damage? if monetary compensation doesn’t work for you, we can discuss other forms of compensation as well.

[You] i know it may not seem like it but i’m actually caught up in too much work to have time for dating anyone. you see, it’s just that i have lots of work on the side so i can’t really spare time at the moment. please don’t take this personally haha i’m sure you’ll find someone,,, like i don’t know how to say this but yeah…..you don’t wanna be w someone like me, it’s me not you

Huh? Just as you sent your message, another message popped up before yours. And if your life had a background narration, this very moment would have been “and in that moment he knew. He fvcked up.”

Fml.

With just one single message, you perhaps have ruined the only god-given opportunity to turn your life around ever. He’d just offered you money to cover the costs of your broken paintings... now that you thought about it, he could even be your patron! You couldn’t even get a patron even if you went out of your way to look for one on Craigslist, pestered Ms. Kim for any news from the Art Teacher’s Association, or even begged random people on the street in hopes one out of the million people would be willing to promote your art. Now, someone was asking to compensate you with tons of money, and you’d just rejected him in the most embarrassing way possible.

[You] oh shoot

[You] i mean wrong chat, uh can you please stay on hold, i will get back to your compensation offer, yeah i will see you at the restaurant sometime thanks

XXX-XXX-XXXX is typing…

You did not bother to see what he had to say. Hurtling your phone onto your carpet, you let out a guttural scream of “I AM SUCH A DUMB@$$$” before pulling the strings on your hoodie tightly. And for the second time that day, you cried.

———

Leaving behind the upsetting events from a couple of days ago, you listlessly shuffled through the entrance. It was Saturday morning, and that meant groceries. The local Asian market was one of your favorite places to be; breathing in the familiar blend of spices that hung in the air was a cathartic feeling. The corners of your lips were turned slightly upwards as you bent to grab a basket.

First stop was the meat section, where the bugged-out eyes of dead fish followed you as you walked down the aisle. Cooking raw animal flesh wasn't really your thing, so you simply picked up a package of pre-cooked chicken and went on your way.

Next came the produce section where you felt up all the tomatoes, only bagging the ones that felt the right amount of firm and soft. You also added a pack of bok choy and mushrooms, perfect for cooking up a lazy soup.

Now that you were nearing the end of your expedition, it was time to head into the best part of the store: the snack aisle. Sometimes, when you were feeling more down than usual, you would blow the whole sum of your weekly grocery savings on off-brand shrimp chips and chocolate banana Pocky. One by one, you were doing all the things your mom had told you not to do when you moved out, from coating the entirety of your insides with nothing but sodium and sugar to shifting your sleep schedule by 15 hours.

What was next, the-no-dating-boys-until-you’ve-gotten-your-Master’s-and-have-a-7-figure-job rule? You scoffed and rolled your eyes. Even if your stomach was totally trashed and your sleep schedule was nonexistent, you would never let yourself fall that far.

As you stepped foot into the chips aisle, you beheld the holy grail. From Hello Panda to rice crackers, wasabi peas to Yan Yan sticks complete with a chocolate dip, cream wafers to dried seaweed, you were in a sea of temptation. Being that broke college student™, you just gulped and kept walking. I can just feast on these goodies with my eyes.

Your initial plan had been to just walk through the aisles to admire and drool over snacks you knew you couldn’t afford, but you were stopped in your tracks when you reached the instant noodles section.

At the end of the aisle, the shelf was bare except for a single lone pack. Even from a distance, you recognized it, all right; there was no mistaking the outline of your favorite instant ramen brand. 신라면. More like 神라면 (it’s more than just spicy noodles— it’s noodles made by the gods) you thought, eyes already tightly clutching at the packaging from 5 feet away.

From many a sleepless night of binge-watching third-rate rom-com dramas (though you cringed thinking back on it, this was an integral phase of your dark “past”), you knew where this was going–– but you weren’t going to sit around and let yourself fall into some overused trope. You gripped your basket tight as you swiftly made your way over to the shelf, just about setting a world record for speedwalking with a basket.

Sure enough, if you had been one second slower, you would’ve been ensnared in a sticky situation. Just as you were snatching up your prey like the pterodactyl you were, another figure was rounding the corner. Another broke college student™, it seemed, judging by the state of their hoodie, which was pulled over their messy hair, the strings tied in a bow to make sure the hood wouldn’t fall. Even though their face was concealed by their hood, you could see their reaction as they connected the dots from the bare shelf to the ramen pack in your hand.

“Hey–” they started, reaching towards you, but you promptly dropped the pack into your basket, spun on your heel, and noped out of the aisle before you could be confronted. You felt sorry because you could sympathize with their situation, but you were in no place to be kind to others. Not in this dog-eat-dog world. To survive, you’d have to stay on top of the food chain.

You were about to fall in line when you remembered that you were all out of Sriracha sauce. You could deal with giving up your Pocky and shrimp chips as long as you had your favorite condiment in stock; no matter how down you were, scrambled eggs with a heaping squirt of Sriracha always took you up to Cloud Nine. If you were going to leave something behind, it would never be the Sriracha sauce.

After grabbing a bottle from the condiment aisle, you scanned the checkout desks for the shortest line. Luckily, a new checkout desk had just opened on the left, so you scampered over and placed your basket onto the counter. The clerk was a kind-looking old woman, but was surprisingly agile for her age. As you waited for her to bag the large span of items that belonged to the grandpa in front of you, you opened up your phone to check your budget. You eyed the message app with two unread messages temptingly before going into your bank app. This was a lucky trip~ thankfully ramen isn’t too expensive. Even if it wasn’t on my grocery list, a few cents won’t make too much a difference. I think I can spare enough to get a Pocky next time.

At long last, the grandpa shuffled away with his cart filled with some veggies, a thick stack of newspapers, and an unusually large stash of rice crackers. While the clerk scanned and bagged your items, you continued to fiddle with your phone until she cleared her throat.

“Would you like a single receipt, or two separate ones? Because there’s a divider between your items.”

“Excuse me?” “You and your boyfriend. By the way, you guys look really cute together, especially with your hoodies~ are you on a date?”

You spun around only to come face to face with the broke college kid from the ramen aisle. Well, that’s awkward. The cashier must have been blind or deaf (or both) because you didn’t even interact with that boy. You stole glances of the customer through your peripheral vision, trying to see what he looked like. Hmm, do I know him? He looked uncannily familiar. Just then, another realization dawned on you. A terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad one. Your expression quickly changed from one of confusion to one of pure shock.

Surprise, surprise. It was the douche from the art gallery. And he was wearing your old hoodie.

“I-I don’t know him.” Before he could open his mouth to say anything, you quickly looked away, feigning ignorance. Unfortunately for you, the old clerk had seen much in her day and your little ruse wasn’t going to slip past her that easily.

“From the flushed look on your face and the stammer in your voice, I’m pretty sure you do. And I’m sure he would agree, wouldn’t you, lover boy~?”

And… cue to the horrified look on lover boy’s face. The conflict that was playing out in his mind showed on his face; he knew that if he answered this wrong, he would be facing your wrath.

“Uh, well, the thing is…” He shot you a nervous glance, but your features were stone cold. At a total loss for what to say, the boy just trailed off and turned his eyes to his basket. Following his gaze, you looked over his items and immediately recoiled in disgust.

Not a single leafy green (grey) in sight, no meat, no rice, not even one of the food groups necessary to sustain life. Strawberry ice cream mochi, Taiyaki, strawberry Melona bars, Choco Pies, strawberry Hi-Chew, strawberry Chocorooms, strawberry Pocky–– it seemed that strawberry was a recurring theme among his groceries.

Even though the sheer amount of sugar made you gag, a pang of jealousy flashed across your face. That was the life you’d longed for ever since you finished high school: living off of nothing but sugar and carbs, looking like a bum and not giving a damn about it, just chilling.

Unfortunately, with the number of failures and setbacks that stained your past, a carefree life was something you could no longer afford.

“Yeah, okay, we’ve met,” you cut in, saving the boy from the tricky situation. Skeptic, the clerk stared into your unblinking eyes for what seemed to be a solid 15 seconds before shrugging and handing you your groceries. You snatched up your fabric bag and went on your way, walking fast. The color in your cheeks was probably the same as a tomato. Your least favorite fruit.

Why him, of all the places? Why, universe? Where did I go wrong? You were about to drop dead from embarrassment. As you closed your eyes, you could see your tombstone: “Rest in Peace y/n, died alone and patron-less.”

However, what you didn’t know was that your day was about to get worse. A whole lot worse. It all started when you felt a familiar tap on your left shoulder. I swear– You took a deep breath in and let it out slowly to compose yourself and answered without turning around.

“What in God’s good name do you want. And why are you wearing hobo clothes.” My clothes, you realized, a tiny bit weirded out.

“They’re comfy,” he pouted, stuffing his hands into the pocket of his newfound hoodie as if to show off. “Anyways, how come you didn’t check your phone earlier?

“Oh, uh,” you felt the pressure in your head rising as you recalled how you threw your phone down in embarrassment and cried. “Sorry, I was feeling kinda down because a certain someone sorta trashed my life’s work and my only chance of being successful in the industry, sooooo yeah. My bad.”

Sniff. You looked up, startled, only to find that the boy in front of you had tears glistening in the corners of his eyes. His mouth was clamped closed, but his bottom lip was quivering and his eyebrows were turned up, resembling a small child trying to keep himself from bursting into tears after falling and scraping his knee on the pavement. “I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

Well shit. There were two ways you could go about this: one, let your superego do the talking like a good person and prevent the boy from having a total meltdown in the middle of the sidewalk. The second was letting your id run rampant, taking full advantage of his feelings of remorse and overall just being a jerk. Maybe you could be distant and lacking in empathy, but you weren’t an asshole because you wanted to be one.

“Listen, I’m sorry for calling you a schmuck. A schmuck would not have bothered to keep in contact and a schmuck would not be on the verge of tears out of guilt. ...I accept your apology.” You were going to say that what he did was unforgivable, but you decided no to say that. After a pang of guilt jabbed into you, you bit your lip and softened your tone.

“I know you feel bad, but you don’t need to cry; there’s no way to turn back time. So instead, let’s move forward and keep looking up. I’ll start.” Smiling slightly with a tilted head, you held out your hand. “Hi, my name is y/n. I know that we’ve technically met, but this is the first time we’ve met met. So, nice to meet you.”

He wiped his tears away with the butt of his palm and tried to return the smile, though his was more watery. “Nice to meet you, y/n. I’m Beomgyu.” You noticed the corners of his lips curl upwards in a small smile as he took your hand, shaking it firmly.

There was a pause of awkward silence as you let go of his hand, wiping your sweaty palm on your sweatpants. Well that was the most awkward introduction I’ve ever had in my life. Clearing your throat, you spoke again to clear the tense atmosphere.

“About my compensation.”

#moacabin #txtarcadianet #txt fanfiction #txt scenarios #txt fluff #beomgyu #choi beomgyu #beomgyu fanfiction #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu fluff #okay this is ... awkward #it's been an eternity since i first started writing this #i don't even think this is that good of a fic LOL it's just lots of crack #but anyways i hope you enjoy this story so far !!#it would be great if i could get some feedback about how it's going so far haha

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joontier · 4 years

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The King’s Guard | Chapter 3

–> Pairings: kim seokjin x reader; jeon jungkook x reader

–> Rating: R

–> Genre/warnings: implications of insomnia; implied infidelity; slight depictions of death of mc; slight angst; fluffy FLUff; humor smut (y/n is such a horndog tbh or maybe the author is too wink wonk; pool sex; masturbation; dom jk undertones; slight switch!jk too sHIt; fingering; voyeurism; unprotected sex; exhibitionism; fingering; boob play kookie jus like dem boobies mkay; thigh riding)

–> Word count: 10.4k

–> A/N: This has less drama and more dialogues than the previous chapters bc we all needed a break from all the angsty angst AMIRITE? Anywho, as usual Korean vocab used will be placed at the end of the chapter. TELL ME WHATCHA YALL THINK PEOPLE shsfskdjf

The King’s Guard - Masterlist || navi.

The King’s Guard | Chapter 3

With the Chuseok Festival just around the corner, the palace is practically buzzing, palace workers out and about the hanoks. You had also busied yourself with your own responsibilities and those of Seokjin’s. It’s been a fortnight since he’s left, and you’re partly thankful that the preparations for the festivities are constantly occupying your mind enough during the day so you don’t worry much about your husband.

Your days now consists of council meetings, classes with the children of the capitol, kitchen checks, palace inspections, village hearings. The list was endless. Admittedly, you had become less amiable as the days pass by, most likely from the doubled amount of responsibility you now have on your hands. It doesn’t help either that the people supposedly helping you with your duties are mostly useless. Just like the so-called ‘royal council’.

You had called for a council meeting today to raise your apprehension towards the new taxes imposed on your people. Needless to say, the meeting went terribly. Now you truly understood Seokjin’s distress after council meetings. And to think that was just the first agenda you had for the day. Just when you thought things couldn’t possibly get worse than speaking with selfish men, a guard suddenly reports to you that a corner of the kitchen had caught fire and that some citizens had caused another riot at a neighboring village.

You were already nursing a nasty headache by the time you had finished lunch. After a particularly stressful day like such, you had decided to retire to bed earlier than usual, skipping supper and your afternoon agenda for your much-needed rest.

You wake up in a cold sweat, panting heavily as you abruptly sit up in your bed. Your eyes look around, taking in your surroundings. It was just a nightmare. You begin to sob, emotions rolling off you in waves.

“Guards!” you call weakly, hoping they will hear you through your sobs. A few more cries and a royal guard, Yunho bursts through the door. “Jungjeon-mama!” he calls as he takes in your distressed state, running towards your bed.

“Lee…Astron…Lee…” the words fade on your lips.

Jungkook is the last thing you see before blacking out.

When you wake, eyes adjusting to the lack of light in the room, you see Astonomer Lee reading a book on your left and Jungkook sleeping soundly on a bench to your right. “Jungjeon-mama,” Astronomer Lee’s voice is soft as he notices you’ve awakened. You attempt to sit up, but a raging headache is royally preventing you from doing so.

“Careful, Mama. The royal physician does not recommend you getting up from bed anytime soon. You need to rest.”

It’s just a mere headache, you contest inwardly, but for the sake of it, you stop yourself from voicing out your argument. Instead, you rest your weight on your elbows and ask for Minho’s assistance in placing the rest of your pillows behind your back to elevate your torso for more convenience.

Another snore escapes from the man on your right catching both your attention. Jungkook’s neck is precariously bent forward, his chin already touching his collarbones. “Minho, could you please…” the astronomer thankfully doesn’t require any further instruction, scuttling to the other side of your bed to help Jungkook lie down on the bench he’d fallen asleep on.

“The Captain had been fighting sleep ever since you fainted earlier tonight, scolding everyone that tried to tell him to get back to his quarters but the poor lad fell asleep the moment I got here.” Minho chuckles, adjusting Jungkook’s position on the bench. The latter reaches his hands out, arms swatting Minho away who’s currently struggling with his task.

“Must…queen…awake,” the younger one mumbles in broken sentences, still blindly pushing the struggling astronomer away. By the time Minho finally manages to lay the captain down, you’re already in tears, your hand clamped over your mouth to stifle your laughter despite the tiny whirlwind in your head.

The fatigued astronomer returns to his seat after completing the arduous task while you reach for the steaming cup of tea sat on your bedside table. You take a whiff, letting the steam reach and fill your nose with the aroma. Ah, Taehyung’s signature brew. The royal physician has relatives from the east that own a tea farm, so Taehyung gets his leaves delivered fresh from the city of agriculture and brews the tea himself – one which the palace keeps in abundance, due to its taste and medicinal benefits.

“You’ve called for me earlier, my queen?”

Minho’s question drowns out the thoughts in your head. “Ah, yes.” A cold shiver runs through your spine as you recall the reason why you woke earlier during the night. “I had quite the nightmare earlier…” you start, “…I was hoping seeking your counsel would ease me of my troubles.”

“I will try my best, Jungjeon-mama.”

“You have my gratitude, Astronomer Lee. But first, I must rise, for my stomach is complaining.”

“Jungjeon-mama. I can’t let you do that. Taehyung strongly insists that you rest, I-“ You look at him, unamused. He stops mid-sentence, knowing there was no point in trying to convince you to do otherwise. “Don’t play innocent now, Minho. As if you weren’t sneaking hangwa off our table when you said you were feeling unwell during the new lunar year celebration.” The scholar chokes on his tea at your comment. “Don’t worry, I’m glad you like my recipe,” you add as you pat him lightly on the shoulders, causing the young astronomer’s cheeks to redden.

“Wangbi, what about the captain?” Minho questions, pointing to the younger man who’s still snoring away happily, face squished against the wooden seat.

“He’ll be fine. Come on, a hungry queen is a grumpy queen.”

“I don’t think we’re supposed to be here, Mama.” Minho mumbles behind you, trying not to tug at the sleeves of your jeogori too hard. You both know he’s breaking royal protocol by touching you like this, albeit indirectly, but you don’t mind, not when his cowardice is starting to affect you as well, mumbling about tales of never-before-recorded creatures that lurk in the night.

You had forgotten to take a lamp with you at your haste to succumb to your hunger, and now you’re both suffering the consequences of your lack of preparedness. With darkness blanketed over the palace and the strong winds blowing, most of the candles inside the lampposts had burned out, only adding to your unnecessary fear. The thin fog surrounding the roofs of the hanoks were of no help either.

“Aren’t you supposed to be fond of the dark, ‘cause it’s when the stars are most visible?” You can feel Minho pursing his lips from behind you. “I only enjoy it when I’m actually outside in the field, or inside my office, with a lamp by my side,” the astronomer answers, pulling at your sleeve a little too hard when he hears a small noise nearby.

When you finally reach the kitchen, Minho breaths a sigh of relief, lighting up the nearby lamp by the entrance. As you raise the lamp to rack the shelves for a few snacks, you accidentally knock over cup from a low shelf, the contents pouring over an open teapot. “Oh!”

The astronomer jumps at the sound, quickly moving closer to you. “Mama! What was that? Do we have an intruder?” You calm him down, assuring him that there was nobody else in the kitchen. Having to lift the teapot as you wipe the spill, your nose catches on this certain aroma coming from the tiny vessel – a mixture that vaguely smells of Taehyung’s tea and…milk.

You bring the vessel closer to your nose this time, realizing that the pleasant smell was coming from the teapot. Brimming with curiosity, you grab the cup that toppled over and poured in a small amount of the concoction. Hoping that it tastes as good as it smells, you bring the cup to your mouth and try your accidentally discovery. You’re genuinely surprised at how it turned out to be, pouring more and sharing the same with Minho who’s already busy filling his mouth with biscuits.

As you both head out of the dark kitchen, snacks on one hand and drinks on the other, you both decide to rest by the steps of a neighboring hanok. The full moon seems brighter and bigger than usual – believed to be determinative of good luck, but you can’t ignore the unsettling feeling in your gut.

“What’s troubling you, Jungjeon-mama?”

“I had a nightmare earlier. It had the same full moon like tonight. Darkness has enveloped the whole palace, Seokjin and I were walking in our garden, just like the usual and as we were talking underneath the cherry tree, a snake slithers around a branch and suddenly attacks me. I don’t remember what happens after that but the next thing I knew Seokjin was in battle and for some reason I couldn’t come near him or help him at least, and somebody plunges a sword-“ You choke on a sob, inhaling deeply as you continue your narrative.

“And…and he looked so helpless, Minho.” Weeping, the astronomer gently rests your head against his shoulder, rubbing your back gently to calm you down. “My poor Seokjin…my husband,” it’s physically painful trying to breathe, like your heart is being tugged in all directions, crushed, and squeezed all at the same time. Your head betrays you one more time with a vivid image of your husband on the ground, lifeless.

You had taken your rest after your talk with Minho and decided to continue your even if it was already late in the afternoon, trying to push away the images of your dead husband before your eyes. You hear the doors slide open, the sound of wood scraping against wood ringing in your ears, the noise momentarily breaking you from concentration. Didn’t you just order the guards to keep the surroundings quiet? Or more specifically, to not let anyone in?

Paying your unexpected visitor no mind, you continue reading your husband’s past proclamations. “Wangbi.” You recognize the voice instantly. “Yes Captain? What sort of national emergency brings you here?” As much as you genuinely enjoy the company of your mysterious, newly-found acquaintance at the palace, you had plenty to catch up to due to Seokjin’s, hopefully, temporary absence.

You keep your eyes trained on the letters in front of you, still nescient of the captain’s proximity. “I must apologize for disappointing you, Jungjeon-mama, but my unlikely visit at this time of the night is not warranted by an emergency on a national level, but of a personal one.” His final words catch your attention, but you continue your reading. “And must I be the one to resolve your personal whims?” You look up from your work, eyes widening a little at the sight of the captain dressed in commoners’ clothes.

“I assure you, my queen. They are not my own.” What does he mean by that? Surely, he can’t mean you. You don’t have personal emergencies, do you?

“Should I presume your choice of clothing is related to this ‘personal emergency’?”

Jungkook says nothing, instead he grins widely in reply. He bends forward to pick something up and you crane your neck a little to see what he’s brought. In his hands is a silk pouch, golden dragons embroidered on the purple cloth. He places the same next to your desk. “What are you up to Jung?” You ask him, totally confused by his actions.

“Mama, it would do me a great honor if you could open the bag.”

“And what if I don’t?”

“Then the emergency won’t be going away anytime soon, and for all you know, it could turn into a national one.”

“Need I remind you that you’re speaking to your queen?”

“Exactly why I’m giving you the choice if you want to open the bag or not, Jungjeon-mama.”

Doesn’t seem like it. With the way he speaks of the pouch, it seems as if you don’t have that much of a choice. You narrow your eyes at him and revert them back to the pouch. “It’s getting late, Wangbi. I think it’s best for you to continue your reading tomorrow,” the captain adds a suggestion to his proposal, sliding the windows open to reveal the night sky dotted with stars.

“How am I supposed to know there is no animal inside?” He doesn’t answer one more time, just sending a toothy smile your way. You too are suppressing a grin, knowing you’re both reminiscing how just a few days ago, he’d successfully coaxed you into opening a box with a frog inside, shouting hysterically as the slimy animal jumps in your face as the whole class erupts in laughter at your reaction.

“Perhaps,” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders, “But see for yourself, Mama – the sun has already set and the darkness of the night is upon us.” For once today, you finally agree with someone. Heaving a deep sigh, you set the scrolls aside for tomorrow and reach for the bag to place it on your desk.

Under Jungkook’s watchful eyes, you gingerly check the pouch – sniffing, poking, prodding, and attempting to hear what sort of object, or creature, might be inside. The captain resists the urge to laugh at how you warily pry the bag. His chest constricts at the sight, your childlike innocence this very moment too adorable for his heart. He hopes that this moment will last forever, that you find wonder in the simplest of things and rid yourself of the sadness clouding your heart.

You untie the knot with no hurry, fingers still holding the two ends of the cloth together just in case something from the inside tries to jump on you again. Once you deem it certain that no animal is inside, you gently open the package. Neatly folded commoners’ clothes similar to Jungkook’s choice of clothes are sitting inside the bag.

“What am I to do with this?” you ask, taking out the garments that are of the same colors as the captain’s.

“Uh, wear it perhaps?” The man retorts, chewing on his bottom lip.

“Now is not the time to fool me, Captain. I know what you’re supposed to do with clothes. Now, tell me why do I have to wear this?”

“Because we’re going to visit the city – your city!”

“Excuse me? Not at this time of the night! I still have-”

“Please, Jungjeon-mama? If I’m not mistaken, this was included in one of your plans anyway! And you really look like you need a break from taking over the king’s duties, on top of your own. I assure you; we will only be the two people who shall know of this!” He whispers the last words conspiratorially, like he’s telling you something that is tantamount to committing treason.

You can’t deny that he’s made a valid point. Now that you’re in charge of the whole palace, your responsibilities had doubled in number and you rarely had time to just take a breather, your days and nights spent working and attending to your duties. Without further encouragement from the captain, you push him out of the room, telling him that you have to change first.

Jungkook does a victory dance at your affirmation, swaying his hips from side to side as he scurries towards the door, reassuring you that he’ll be waiting outside and that you will not regret this choice. You sure hope you won’t.

With the amount of time you’ve spent with him recently, you had discovered plenty of things about the captain: that he has the eye for the arts, that he completely adores children, and that he is definitely one to think on impulse. Jungkook would do anything that suddenly pops up in his mind, regardless of what the outcome of his actions might be. You realize that was the defining trait that definitely makes Jungkook and Haesoo look great together.

Once you slide the doors open, the captain places a finger on his mouth, silently ordering you to stay quiet. You nod, following Jungkook as he walks on the tip of his toes, wincing when his next step makes the wood below him creak. He looks back at you with a funny face that almost made you laugh out loud, reprimanding him with a light slap on his arm, shushing him.

After having traversed almost halfway across the entire palace, you had one last hanok to cross before reaching Jungkook’s supposed ‘secret passage’ by the west gates. The captain peeks his head from a corner, checking any surrounding guards by the small open space while you rest your back against a lamppost.

“It’s clear, Mama.”

You join him where he’s stood, watching the same guards he’d been observing just now. With your shoulders almost touching, the captain is now fully conscious of your current proximity, his breathing getting shallower by the second. The captain hadn’t really expected you to say yes, and now that you’re here with him, he’s practically jumping in excitement, completely giddy at the fact that you’re spending time with him out of your official duties.

He’d initially meant to go with Haesoo tonight, but had lied to her that he’s been feeling unwell all day and wanted to get some good night’s rest. Now you’re here by his side, sneaking through the guards, as guilt eats at him for lying to such a sweet girl like Haesoo. What Jungkook won’t openly admit though is that spending time alone with you seems to alleviate the guilt he feels for his misdeed to another.

The captain glances sideways to glimpse at you. How is it that you always manage to be effortlessly beautiful? Even when you’re in your royal garments, in commoners’ clothes like tonight, or even without clothes, you always seem to have this aura that simply magnetizes people towards you, no matter what the time, place, or occasion may be.

He wasn’t – isn’t – supposed to develop feelings for you – not for a married woman, and especially not for the queen of Korea. This wasn’t part of the mission. He hadn’t gone through so much in the past just for his plans to ricochet at him like this. Was he really willing to throw away all those years of training just because his heart was always beating faster than usual around you?

Jungkook shakes his head as if to rid himself of his thoughts of self-doubt. He turns his head to look at you at look and puts a smile on his face. “Ready, Mama?” he reaches his hand out for you to take which you accept gladly as he informs you that you both had to run across the open square to reach the secret passage.

The captain gulps when you slip your soft, small hand into his. There’s a small part of him that suddenly regrets his offer, the small action seemingly seeping him further into the fatal void of his emotions. But, undeniably, there’s that larger part of his conscience that celebrates during moments like these with you – his heart triumphs once again.

He can’t fail this mission, not when he’s so close to finishing it. But the more he tries to concentrate, the more he falls and it’s so difficult to accomplish something when his heart and his brain are constantly at war with each other, even if they’re fighting over the same thing.

Jungkook counts to three and you two bolt from the corner of the hanok and run towards the trees. Halfway through the square, one of the guards catches you and orders you two to halt at once. “Quickly!” Jungkook whispers, giving you a hand with carrying your skirt so you could run faster. As the guard sprints after you, you run as fast as your feet could carry you until the both of you reach the bushes and hide beneath the thick shrubs.

The both of you hide beneath the shrubs, breathless. When the guard arrives at the spot he’d thought you two were supposed to be, he finds no traces of you or any other intruder lurking around, the guard goes back to his post. You let out a huge breath you don’t realize you’ve been holding back for so long.

When you realize you still had your hands intertwined with Jungkook, you release yourself from his grip gently, dismissing the awkwardness in the air with a small cough. You let yourself fall onto a nearby heap of leaves, letting out a breathy laugh. Jungkook soon joins you on the heap, laughing along.

“I haven’t run like that in such a long time!” you squeal, clapping your hands in excitement. Jungkook revels in your enthusiasm as he pushes himself from the heap. “Where to now?” As you finish dusting yourself off, Jungkook looks at you expectantly. “Please don’t tell me you’re planning for us to go over the wall.”

“I promise you, it’s safe, Jungjeon-mama.”

“How would you know that?! I don’t even see a ladder here for us to use!” Your shoulders slump and you slowly back away. “No, no, no, no! We’ll be fine!” reassures Jungkook, attempting to calm your agitation due to the literal obstacle in front of you.

“Wangbi, look, it’s not even that high, see?” The captain pushes his back against the wall and uses his hand to compare his height to the brick partition. There may be a relatively small difference, the wall being approximately a head higher than Jungkook, but the captain easily towers over you, so how exactly does he suppose you to reach all the way to the top?

You look at him like he’s eaten your expensive collection ceramic bowls for breakfast. Maybe he’s had too much milk tea to drink? You’d learned that he’s enjoyed your newly-discovered concoction way more than others in the palace. Perhaps the mixture didn’t yield as much benefits as you initially thought it was? You make a mental note to lessen the frequency of the production of your specialty drink.

You think this through one last time. All this trouble would have been for nothing if you’ll decide retire to your room now. Plus, you badly wanted to see the Chuseok preparations going on outside the palace. You let your fingers rub heavily against your forehead, weighing the possible outcome of sneaking out of the palace in the middle of the night.

You take one look at Jungkook, who’s silently pleading you to continue your journey with his titillating doe-like eyes, then you let your eyes linger over to the wall and what sort of sight it might hide beneath it. You let out an exasperated sigh, knowing that the captain has once again triumphed in dragging you to his acts of impulsiveness.

“Captain Jung Jungkook, you will be the death of me.”

The captain claps his hands with an intense amount of vigor at your statement. He doesn’t falter even with the look of aggravation on your face. You gasp inwardly, maybe he found out where you hid your secret vessel of makgeolli in the kitchen and drank it all for himself! That little bast-

“Come on now, I’ll lift you up.” Jungkook laces his fingers together, hands forming a makeshift pedestal for you to step on. He lowers his knees for your convenience and bows curtly, gesturing you to come closer.

Grabbing onto his shoulders for support, you ease a foot onto his woven hands. He lifts you up with no trouble and you latch onto the top of the wall, swinging your legs over one at a time, eventually perching yourself on top of the brick panel. “See that wasn’t so hard after all, right Mama?” Jungkook should be grateful he doesn’t see you roll your eyes.

Jungkook, on the other hand, agile body and all, practically springs from the ground and hooks his hands easily on the wall, jumps over the partition and lands gracefully on the other side with ease. “How did you manage to do that?!” Your still at awe at his dexterity, eyes wide at the realization that he’d done such a strenuous feat without exerting much effort. “Tell me, Jung Jungkook, were you a thief at some point in your life? A bandit perhaps?”

The captain chortles at your sudden judgment. “No, I wasn’t, Mama. But you’d have a lot of training when you live in a pala-“Jungkook’s eyes widen slightly, “w-when you live in a place where there are plenty of walls to climb over.” He’s grateful when you don’t notice the slip in his words. “Now what do I do?” You tap your fingers at your thighs, anxious about what might happen next. You look around. There doesn’t seem to be some spot soft enough for you to land on.

“Jump. I’ll catch you, Jungjeon-mama.”

Once again, you find yourself questioning your life decisions. Perhaps you were the one who had too much milk tea to drink? You’ve never even tried, not even once, tried sneaking out of the palace like this before and now here you were, a grown, married woman, climbing over a wall at nighttime like it’s some daily chore.

As you push yourself off the brick wall, a villager shouts something in your direction, making Jungkook look away from you the same time you jump. You instantly close your eyes in fear, yelling out the captain’s name as you fall.

When Jungkook manages to catch you in his arms, you recite prayers of gratitude to your ancestors for having blessed Jungkook with vigilance, that is, until he falls backward, losing his stepping on a small stone with your startling leap, the sound of his back hitting the ground muffled by the soil beneath him.

As you pry your eyes open, you find out your face is almost touching his. The captain’s usually inquisitive face is contorted into one of grimace because of the pain. You shamelessly take advantage of this opportunity to gawk at the faded scar that sparked your curiosity more than you can admit.

You shuffle on your feet as the proximity of your faces finally dawns on you, your faces so near to each other that you feel his warm breathing fanning your cheeks. “Sorry, Jungkook,” you blurted out, sitting on your knees as you gently shake him by the shoulders.

Panic arises from you when he doesn’t budge at your prodding, especially now that you’re shaking his body with a reasonable amount of fervor, your eyes already brimming with tears. You don’t see his chest moving, nor do you feel any breathing under his nose or mouth. He couldn’t possibly have died from that could he?! Checking your surroundings, you look for something that might have caused damage during his landing. “Jungkook! Wake up, please!” you let your head fall to his chest as you feel a single droplet of tear roll down your cheek.

“Aww, are those tears for me, Mama?” the captain coos, eyes twinkling with mirth under the moonlight.

Your head shoots up in surprise. “Y-yes!” you stammer out, trying not to show any other expression other than annoyance on your face. “And for the record, those were tears of joy because I thought the only person in this world who makes me do the most ridiculous things has finally breathed his last!”

Instead of being threatened by your indignation, he doubles in laughter, body quaking as he does. You quietly stand there watching him, and soon enough when the captain notices your silence, he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth to stop his amusement. He shuffles to his feet and bows from his waist. “My deepest apologies, Jungjeon-mama. I did not mean to worry you.”

When he looks up, he sees your face just as stoic as your stance, guilt eats at him and he starts to fidget with his fingers. “If- if you’d like to go back-“

“Ha!” Jungkook jumps at your exclamation, your hands clasped together in delight. “How does it like being fooled now, hmm?” he pouts at the sight of your face, your perfectly shaped brow taunting him as he bows again.

“You’re scary, Jungjeon-mama,” the captain grumbles, kicking at a few fallen leaves.

“And so I’ve been told. Come on now! You’ve still got plenty to show me, and the night is still young!” As you tug on his sleeves, the smile that etches on Jungkook’s face is as warm as his heart, your eagerness way to infectious for him to ignore your pleas.

The two of you wander through the streets of the village just outside the capitol’s palace, in awe of the hustle and bustle of the villagers’ Chuseok preparations. Well, you for the most part. The captain had just discovered that this was you first time to witness festival preparations outside the palace. He isn’t surprised though, as he knew each city’s palace is equally as busy as yours during the festival, so he hadn’t wondered how you had never gotten out during the festivities.

Your facial expressions are nothing short of wonder, Jungkook notices, as you practically marvel at everything, like a little girl seeing a doll for the first time. The captain trails behind you silently as you move from one side of the dirt road to the other. You occasionally bump into some villagers on the way who complain about your walking, which unnecessarily alerts the captain side of Jungkook, ready to fight anyone who dare messes with the queen, with his queen.

Jungkook watches as a halmeoni merchant’s stall catches your eyes, orbs widening in marvel when you take a closer look at the accessories she’s put on display on a table. The old lady watches Jungkook’s eyes trained on you fill in with adoration as you check nearly every single piece of hairpin on the rickety piece of wood. She wants to coo at the sight, but she doesn’t want to ruin the moment, so she quietly beckons Jungkook to come closer.

She reaches a slightly shaky hand out, gesturing for the captain to give her his palm. She hands him an earth-colored hairpin with a pink flower situated on top. “Give this to her,” she whispers, voice trembling as much as her hand. “To whom?” the young man replies, looking around for the girl the old lady is pertaining to.

“Silly boy,” she extends a hand and pinches his ear, “to her, of course, the girl you love over there,” the old lady motions to you, who’s still busy being enamored by the jade hairpins. “O-oh, we…we’re not…” the halmeoni dismisses him with a wave. “Go on now.”

As the captain takes a step towards you, you turn around, showing him the green hairpin you’ve clipped beside your ear. “Kookie! How does it look?”

He’s momentarily stunned at your nickname you’d called him – a nickname he’s been called exclusively by one person only during his childhood – the same person who’s calling him Kookie tonight, even with the number of years that had passed.

“Kook-“ your words falter as you see the hairpin the captain holds in his hands, captivated by its beauty. “It’s a carnation,” the old lady points out nodding her head towards the accessory you’ve now taken from Jungkook’s grasp. She continues speaking, “they say it’s the queen’s favorite flowers and…” her voice comes down to a whisper, “…rumor has it that the king has tended a garden full of carnations just for her, what a truly lovely man the king is… but don’t tell anyone that!”

Your chest constricts at the mention of your husband, whose presence you yearn for the most. You wish he was here to witness the festivities outside the palace not as royalty but as commoners, just like you and Jungkook tonight.

“It’s beautiful, halmeoni,” you say, touching the pink carnation settled on top of the pin. “Take it, please.” The old lady offers but you decline, telling her that you didn’t bring any coins with you as payment. Jungkook reaches for a few from the pouch tied to his pants but the old lady won’t have it, insisting that she give it to you for free.

“You’ve got the face and the heart of queen, young lady. Take it as a gift from one grandmother to her beautiful grandchild.”

Giving her a bow of gratitude in return for her kind words and the lovely gift, the captain helps you attach the hairpin on your head. The both of you greet the halmeoni with a happy Chuseok and she responds with her own best wishes for the both of you.

As you walk away from her stall, Jungkook notices the loneliness lingering in your eyes. He won’t allow you to be sad now, not when he’s brought you here to be the opposite, so he speaks up, avoiding touching the subject of your husband to mollify your emotions.

“So…Kookie?”

“Oh sorry about that. I just thought it would have been strange if I called you Captain, or Jung…” That he understood, Jungkook doesn’t know what could have possibly turned out of a situation where you blew both your covers.

“But Kookie?”

“I…It’s just that you remind of a friend I had during my childhood who was called that, or at least, that’s what I called him. You know, it’s strange that I actually never knew his real name, or who his family was, or where he truly lived. We had met in the woods once when I got lost trying to follow a butterfly and he helped me back to the palace that afternoon. All I knew was that he told me to call him Kookie, so there’s that,” you shrug as you glimpse at Jungkook, whose facial expression looks like he warrants more explanation.

“Since then, Kookie and I would meet at the same spot he’d found me during the afternoon and we would talk, or rather, I would talk and Kookie would just listen to me talk. On other days we would just play until the court ladies would call me back and we’d have to part ways again.”

“Ah, he was a good listener and a good friend too…Kookie. One day, he just didn’t show up, and I waited there in our old spot the whole day. But he never came, nor did he arrive on the next day, or the day after that. I miss him sometimes, you know? I miss having friends. Occasionally, I wonder how he’s doing, what he’s grown up to be, if he has a family, or children even! It’s a shame really that I never really got to know his real name… for all we know, he could’ve been a Jungkook too, or a Jikook, or a Taekook, or a Namkook, or a Yoonkook!” Jungkook laughs at your endless combinations. “Ah, if I only knew his name, I would have already invited him over for supper at the palace…”

The captain nods absentmindedly, your sentiments reeling in his mind. You were there that day, you waited for him. The captain wanted to sing in joy. In fact, he even more elated that you remember. You remember him. He thinks to himself, ‘Oh Jungjeon-mama, Kookie is closer to you than you will have ever imagined.’

Exhaling as you rest your head against the edge of the pool, you move your focus from the task at hand to the wooden ceiling. You miss Seokjin terribly. It’s been far too long without his touch.

Whether it be a quick relief from the stresses that root from ruling a nation, or sensual moments of intimacies like the night before he’d left, you had a particularly sexually active lifestyle with Seokjin and now with your husband away, the reality of his absence has finally taken its toll on you. You used to wonder how your husband had his libido up and running no matter what the occasion, but he’d always counter with you being far too desirable to resist his primal urges. Now that he’s away, your struggling with the thoughts of missing Seokjin, and dealing with an even greater struggle of trying to pleasure yourself.

With another exhale, you close your eyes as you sink your torso farther down where you’re seated on the pool steps. Your fingers find the sensitive nether bud between your legs, imagining it was Seokjin’s fingers ghosting over your body and not yours. When his face comes into view beneath your closed eyelids, you slide your hands across your chest, your palms knead the supple flesh of your breast. You let the hardened nub of your nipple get tweaked and twisted between your two fingers.

Once again, the royal captain finds himself in another compromising situation. He doesn’t know how long he’s been hiding behind the post with your back facing him, his eyes watching your third failed attempt today at pleasuring yourself.

Earlier this afternoon, as you had retired to your bedroom to take some rest, he heard a moan slip from within. He thought he was mistaken by another questionable noise and tried to shake it off, thinking that his hearing might’ve inevitably worsened after watching over the royal band that rehearsed in the palace’s square the day before. However, as another whimper reached his ears, he knew he wasn’t mistaken this time around, so he ordered the guards situated inside the hanok to do their rounds outside.

Unfortunately, he knew his orders were called a little bit too late as Chaeyoung slides your doors open just as he was about to stop her, and they had both found you on your bed, the covers lazily draped across your body as your hands worked between your spread legs. The pair poorly averted their gazes as Jungkook scurries to close the doors at your orders.

The captain remains still as he watches you from behind. Even with your back facing him, he can vividly picture out what you look like right now, as if he’d just been taken back to the night he watched with sick fascination you and Seokjin in middle of lovemaking. He badly wants to help you with your predicament – the king’s parting words ringing in his head.

“Captain Jung?” Seokjin calls out to the younger man, who’s busy with the final checks on the straps of the saddle atop the king’s white steed.

“Jeonha?”

“Come walk with me.”

The captain is confused by the king’s sudden call for his presence but he complies nonetheless. Seokjin takes a few steps forward, waiting for Jungkook. When the latter catches up, Seokjin begins talking, glancing sideways at the captain.

“I am leaving the security of the capitol in your hands, Captain Jung. I expect that you will protect the city with your life, just like I have. During these trying times, the country needs a protector – someone who will give them security even when nothing is seemingly going right.”

“Yes, Jeonha. You have my word.”

“Also, I knew you were there, you know.”

“Jeonha?” The captain repeats, baffled by the king’s words, absolutely clueless as to what the king was pertaining to. “I knew you were there last night, Jungkook. Outside our room.” The captain visibly pales at Seokjin’s statement, but the former keeps his silence as he racks his brain for an appropriate response. Seokjin hears Jungkook’s profuse apologies next, penitence evident in the captain’s every mention of ‘sorry’.

“I admire the genuineness behind your confession. And that’s why I need you to do one more thing.”

“Anything you ask of, my King.”

“I need you to take care of my wife.”

“Of course, Jeonha.”

“No, no… What I mean is I need you to be there for her. This journey I have to take…it’s too risky, too much peril is involved in this mission that I honestly don’t think I’ll make it out alive.” Seokjin feels lighter at his confession, like some heavy weight has been taken off his shoulders.

“I need you to be there when she needs someone to talk to, when she needs someone to eat with, when she needs an honest opinion on something, when she needs me. My wife… she is very headstrong and independent – traits that I admire most about our queen. But at the end of the day, behind the façade of her unwillingness to yield to anything that is possibly beyond her control, she is but my wife – a woman who needs her husband, just as much as I need her.”

“I know you and I both share the same degree of affection towards _______.” Jungkook opens his mouth to speak, but Seokjin beats him to it. “Understand that I am one with your emotions. It’s alright. I am but a man too, you know, after you strip off the crown and the royal garments,” the king remarks, “Surely, you witnessed that too last night. Must’ve been a spectacle,” Seokjin adds, letting out a small whistle, without forgetting to attach a roguish wink at the end of his sentence towards Jungkook, who shies under the older man’s gaze.

“Sorry for my lack of formalities, Jungkook. It must be my wife’s secret stash of makgeolli speaking, but don’t tell her that! I was asking a personal favor from you anyways, from one friend to another. So… will you comply with my request?”

“O-Of course, my King. I’ll do my best, but please understand that I have no intentions of interfering with your relationship. The queen is a married woman after all…I mean…she’s married to you, Jeonha! I couldn’t possibly compare myself to what you have provided for her.” Jungkook is still unable to grasp the absurdity of it all. Yes, nearly every word the King said is without a doubt laced with nothing but the truth. But he still doesn’t understand what the King trust him with such great task.

Does Seokjin even know who he truly is?

Sure, the king is well aware of his feelings towards you, but was that enough? Does Seokjin trust him that much? If Seokjin only knew who he truly was, would the king even let him stand in the same room as his wife? Let alone attend to her…private needs?

“The moment I had planned of this journey, I had already accepted the consequences of what I am to do. I understand, and she will eventually understand. She always does.”

The captain continues contemplating behind the post. This is wrong, on so many levels. He isn’t even supposed to be in the royal baths now, but the rumored news he had just heard from an informant absolutely warrants your attention. At the same time, he feels a strong calling to help you with your present helplessness. Rumors be damned.

Jungkook takes a deep breath. It’s now or never.

“Can I help you with anything, Mama?” Jungkook is relieved as his voice comes out less shaky than he anticipated.

You’re shocked beyond belief at the voice that comes from behind you, nearly losing your footing on the pool steps. “Jungkook! What are you doing here?!” You pant, covering your chest even if they’re barely visible under your milk bath. Regret fills you as you stare at your forlorn robe, too far away to sheath yourself with at least an ounce of modesty.

Jungkook stills, unsure what to retort. He’s meant to bring you rumors of an informant from outside the palace, but now, it seems as if his initial task was long forgotten. ‘It can wait,’ he thinks to himself, your welfare is always his priority. “I-uh. I was doing my rounds…and I heard the water splashing inside… so I had to check.”

Shame floods through you. Fortunately for you, the captain doesn’t see you liken to the shade of a tomato. You’re unsure what pushes you to pour out your emotions to the captain – whether it be the fact that the captain has earned your trust that you’re comfortable enough to be completely honest with him, or that you are left with no other choice but to tell the truth as to why you’ve decided to spend your night in the royal baths. You could care less at this point, whatever the reason might have been, because the words are already spilling out of your mouth.

“I’m going to be honest with you, Jungkook. I am beyond agitated – in fact, I think I have been since my husband’s leave. And on top of that I miss Seokjin. I really do, and it’s not just the kind of feeling that you can temporarily disregard by preoccupying yourself with other things, its…I…I miss him so much because I need him, Jungkook. Now it’s all the more frustrating because the only way I know how to instantaneously relieve myself isn’t working either because like I said… I, I need my husband.”

“Use me then Mama, for your own pleasure. Imagine I am the king, imagine me as your husband,” he pleads.

“What?! I-I can’t ask that of you Captain, that is beyond your royal duties.”

“I’m not asking, I’m offering you my assistance… as a friend, as someone who genuinely wants you to help you relieve yourself of your stresses even just for a short while.”

You sit there silent, contemplating. You hate how he always catches you off guard, easily pointing out the truth that you thought you wonderfully hide. Sitting up straighter, skeptical at the thought of this proposal, you turn around to face Jungkook. “Doesn’t this seem strange to you?”

“Jungjeon-mama, it’s only strange if you think about it that way. I really just want to help you. If you desire so, I can just leave now and forget this ever happened,” Jungkook offers and you already hear him standing from where he’s seated.

“No!” you yell abruptly, taking Jungkook by surprise. Well you didn’t explicitly say ‘yes’ but your answer wasn’t exactly a disapproval of his offer, was it?

“How are we supposed to do this then?” Your voice is small, if he’s not mistaken, he could tell you’re slightly embarrassed because of the whole situation. Jungkook’s mind goes blank. Then again, he really wasn’t expecting you to agree.

“Uh… I guess I could guide you through it? I… I don’t have to go there, I won’t even look at you, I’ll just stay here…while I uh, talk you through it?” The captain inwardly cringes at himself, grimacing at how much he’d stammered at such a short period of time.

“Are you sure about that…”

“Yes, I’m okay-”

“I meant, are you sure you’re going to stay there the whole time?”

The captain’s eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. What? Are you implying that he move somewhere he can see you? Were you even aware of what you’re saying? Jungkook tries to reassure you and himself that he’ll gladly stay back, watching you from behind. Besides, he doesn’t even know how you’ll react if you make him move nearer and you’ll eventually realize that he’s already half-hard just imagining you naked. Jungkook hums in approval.

“Okay, show me how you touch yourself, Mama.”

“But you can’t see me?”

“I’ll be fine, I can see your arms moving from here. I’ll just try to imagine what you’re doing…” ‘That sounded awful,’ Jungkook thinks, biting his fist at the realization of him not being articulate enough.

“O-okay,” comes your answer as you sink yourself lower on the pool. He sees your arms create tiny ripples on the water with your movements. Perhaps, this wasn’t so bad, after all.

“Imagine it’s the King massaging your breasts slowly as he cups your cunt with his other hand.” Jungkook sees you comply instantly, good girl. He sees you sink even further as you enjoy yourself, soft whimpers escaping your lips. “Now, play with your clit, Mama, slowly rub it in circles with your fingers.” The captain’s chest swells with pride as your head slightly lolls backwards until you suddenly sit up straight again, this time looking at him straight in the eye.

“I can’t Jungkook…this is too difficult. You have to be here.”

Jungkook nearly falls off his seat.

“Mama- I…”

“Take off your clothes, Captain and get your butt here in the pool with me.” Jungkook gets rid of his clothes with the same sense of urgency laced with your words. “Quickly, before I’ll have you dismissed from the royal guards.” You let him undress for a moment, fidgeting with your fingers as you wait for him on the pool steps.

“I’m here, Mama.” Turning to face him, Jungkook takes notice of your bloodshot eyes. He delicately wipes a tear that rolls down your cheek. The gentle action spurs you to hug the captain, the frustration coming off as tears pouring out of your eyes.

He attempts to ignore the fact that your chest is blatantly pressing against his, your pert nipples cold against his torso. Jungkook likewise wonders if you’re aware of his fully erect dick now, which is painfully and uncomfortably wedged between your bodies. You both stay like that for a moment, relaxing in each other’s arms, or just you – at least, from Jungkook’s perspective. There are already beads of sweat glistening on his forehead despite the cold breeze that entered through an open window.

Ever so gently, he presses a light kiss on your forehead, then on your cheeks and on your nose. “Are you okay, Mama?” the concerned captain asks as you silently rest your head against his chest. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” You nod, pushing him forward and making him sit on the steps of the pool.

You pull his thighs apart, making room for you to sit on the meaty muscle. As you lower yourself on his thigh, Jungkook lets out a breathy exhale, feeling your core hot and wet against his skin. His hands shoot out to grab at your hips as he squeezes you lightly, desperate to confirm to himself that this isn’t just the loveliest dream – that you aren’t seated on his lap, gloriously naked as a newborn baby.

He wants to kiss you like this, to show you how beautiful you are, how strong his feelings are just for you. But he controls himself, as you’d probably reserve those lips for your husband alone, and he’s willing to wait it out, as long as you’re comfortable and you don’t feel pressured to do it.

His large hands are warm against your cool skin, gaze steely as you grind yourself against his thighs desperately. He gropes the supple flesh of your breasts, rolling your already hardened nipples between his fingers. Jungkook gives them a pinch before enclosing one in his mouth, tongue swirling all over your areola. Your hands reach up to tug frantically at his hair. “Ah Jungkook, please…”

Jungkook nips at the skin by the valley of your breasts, lips moving south to more time to take one of your tits inside his mouth while he keeps his hand busy kneading the other. “You’re so wet, Mama. And it’s not because of your bath is it?” He observes, swiping his fingers against your folds, shallowly dipping two and removing them from your cunt. “Please call me ________.”

Jungkook slides two fingers inside of you without warning and you quickly clasp a hand over your mouth, letting out a whimper. He lets out a low groan at the sound, clearly just as aroused as you are. He sped up his fingers, circling your swollen clit with his thumb. As your hips jerk, you feel yourself slowly sliding forward, your core coming in contact with his cock. Your thighs tremble at the sensation.

You’re so close, finally! Letting out a satisfied exhale, you urge Jungkook to go even faster as you arch your back, shamelessly undulating your hips on his fingers. You hear Jungkook whisper praises on your skin as you cum on his fingers, squeezing and pulsing around his digits. As you pant heavily, you let your head fall onto his shoulder. You hiss as he pulls his fingers out and trail them across your back, before situating them on your back and pulling you into a hug.

Jungkook unabashedly ogles your tits, completely mesmerized by how they slightly jiggle as you breath. He takes one of your breast in his mouth again, while the other gets groped and abused by his hand. As you squirm beneath him, he suckles on the skin for a moment, teasing you even further. He pulls away with a pop and tilts his head, grinning at you. “Use your words, my queen. I need to know what you want, what you truly need.”

“I need you.” Jungkook nearly sings in elation, heart soaring as he hears the words escape your lips.

“I’m all yours, _______. Take me.”

With his arms shifting underneath the water, you figure Jungkook has taken his cock in his hand, jerking it off a little before adjusting his seating. He lets the hard flesh press against your core, making you gasp at the contact. His eyes fall close as he slowly rubs himself back and forth the wetness of your folds, catching his bottom lip between his teeth at the feeling.

Getting impatient with his incessant teasing, you take hold of his cock and position it near your entrance. You lower yourself on his cock slowly, mouth falling open at the burning stretch of being breached after quite some time. “You…feel…so…good,” Jungkook says breathily as your pussy squeezes every inch of him until he bottoms out.

You grab him on his shoulders for support, your arms entwining around his neck as you let your fingers get tangled in his hair. You raise yourself until only the tip of his cock is left between your folds and you sink back down onto it with a long, loud moan.

It had proven to be quite the challenge to fuck in the pool because of the water resistance, but with Jungkook’s equally fervent desire to give you your release, his hips start moving in a steady rhythm, matching yours. You were getting close, but not enough to reach your high.

“Kook, gods…floor now.”

“Can I, ______?” Jungkook asks, dark eyes looking at you almost pleadingly. He places the tip of his cock at your entrance, pausing as he gazes at you one more time. You squeeze his arm beside your head that has you caged beneath him. Jungkook lets out an exhale, grabbing onto your hipbones and slamming inside you without further warning. He fucks you relentlessly, thrusting so deep that your body is jolting forward, his cock hitting your cervix with every snap of his hips. Just then you realized, the water in the pool was clearly holding him back.

His pace doesn’t waver even with his breathing getting more ragged by the second. “Fuck, you feel so good, _______.” He lifts himself, stretching his elbows out to take a good look at you. Jungkook had never thought he’d be able to get blessed again with such a sight. You’re mewling beneath him, his name repeatedly falling off your swollen lips like a prayer. His eyes get trained on your breasts one more time, watching them jiggle with every thrust he makes. The sight only makes him pound into you harder than before, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and sucking on the hardened bud.

You’re already far too gone to care about the cold wind hitting your skin or the slight burn of your skin sliding against the wooden floor as Jungkook fucks you against it. With your orgasm building up for the second time tonight, you push your hips upward, angling yourself so he hits that sweet spot inside you with each movement of his hips.

“Come on, Mama,” Jungkook encourages through gritted teeth, all too aware that his own high is coming to him at breakneck speed, but he collects himself, holding on until you cum first. Your relief is his priority. He slides his fingers between your bodies and finds your nether bud. That seems to do the job. As he continues to rub at your clit, your moans get louder and this time Jungkook is glad that you no longer attempt to hold in your cries, carelessly mewling out the sounds of your passion. Your whole body convulses as your orgasm washes over you.

The captain follows suit, cock going rock hard inside you as he spills his release and throws his head back, grabbing onto your hips and groaning louder than you’ve ever heard him before. You let him ride out his high with a few more thrusts, watching his face contort into pleasure. Wincing as he pulls out, Jungkook falls to your side, panting just as heavily as you are.

“Thank you, Jungkook.”

“The pleasure was all mine, Jungjeon-mama.”

You can’t sleep, again. But this time, it’s not because of your own doing. You hear horses neighing and a few yells here and there. There’s something going on outside – a commotion, one which only seems to get worse as you hear the guards attempt to keep the noise at the minimum at this ungodly hour.

Grabbing your robe from the dresser, you tiredly rub at your eyes as you head out of your room. You spot Yunho looking out from the windows of your hanok. “What’s going on? Why is there so much noise?” Dragging your feet across the wooden floor, you walk sluggishly towards the guard who bows curtly to acknowledge your presence but returns his vision to the ruckus below.

“It seems we have a visitor, Jungjeon-mama. Please continue your resting, we will take care of this.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m already awake,” you respond, joining him by the window. As you squint your eyes to see better, an all-too-familiar emblem printed on a handheld flag standing tall and proud, seemingly waving at you as the wind blows.

“Jungjeon-mama!” Yunho calls out as you rush outside. His calls fall into deaf ears, letting your feet carry you down the stairs and towards the palace gates. You’re getting a sick feeling from their unexpected arrival, their presence not settling properly in your gut.

The royal guards get in your way, attempting to stop you from taking another step nearer your visitors. “Mama, please get back to your room.” Jungkook steps forward, shielding you from seeing your unexpected guests. “Move, Captain. It’s only right for the lady of the house to greet her guests herself. So make way, Jungkook. Don’t make me tell you twice.” Jungkook lets out an exhale, hesitating on his actions. He makes a small step sideways, and you look at him. “Do you not trust me?” The captain looks away and takes a larger step to your right, making way, but not before getting closer as he whispers in your ear, “They’re dangerous, Mama. It’s them I don’t trust. Just give me a sign and I’ll behead this man in one strike.”

You nod in agreement, thankful that his bravery seems to add up to the courage you’re lacking at this very moment. You haven’t had a proper look at your guests and now that you do, you’re taken aback by the mop of blonde hair that catches your eyes, the man’s hair unusually matching that of his horse’s.

The man with the pale-yellowish hair alights from his horse, your eyes trained on his every movement. He nods to one of his guards to take care of his steed. Was this man a foreigner? From overseas perhaps? But why does he hold the emblem of the south with him? Had history already repeated itself? You’re starting to get a headache with the number of questions swirling in your head right now, all of which are answered when the man finally looks at you.

“Yoongi?”

You’re rendered speechless. You’re well aware that the present king of the south has a scar on his face, inflicted by none other than Minseok, who had paid for the facial wound with his life, but you never thought it would be this…terrible. The wound is healing, but the scar cutting through his right eyebrow until his cheek was an injury too deep to heal fully. That you knew all too well with the similar mark you have on your side from your childhood.

You gulp, taking another step forward. “What are you and your men doing here?”

“Ah, Jungjeon-mama, surely that’s not how the capitol greets its guests?” You maintain your glare but the present king of the south looks the least bit unfazed. “Don’t worry, my Queen, the pleasure is all mine.” Jungkook was about to wield his sword when Yoongi takes one of your hands in his and placing a gentle kiss at the back of your palm.

You’re startled by the gesture, quickly withdrawing your hand and wiping it discreetly against your robe. “I’m going to ask you again, Yoongi. What are you doing here?”

Yoongi huffs, glancing sideways, “Fine, since you asked so nicely. We’re here to celebrate Chuseok.”

“It’s not until a few more days.”

“Is there anything wrong about arriving a little earlier than expected?”

“Don’t you have your own city to celebrate with, and take care of?”

“The queen is always in charge of the celebrations. But you already knew that. Besides, it’s not unusual to visit your friends during the festival, right? Especially when a southerner is celebrating all by herself in such a big palace.”

Both ticked and apprehended at his words, you clench your jaw as you decide. Yoongi isn’t entirely wrong; the festival isn’t an exclusive commemoration of your ancestors, but it is also considered a time of communal gathering – one celebrated with your families, distant relatives, and friends.

Albeit you and Yoongi don’t share the type of friendship that he implied, it had also been tradition for royalties to visit each other’s cities during Chuseok, but the prideful south was never really one to partake in dealing with simple ethics. On top of that, it was considered bad luck to refuse guests during festivities, especially one as big as Chuseok. And you wouldn’t want to push your luck, not when Yoongi’s arrival is enough bad luck as it is.

“Yunho,” you call, taking your eyes off Yoongi, “ready our guests’ hanok.”

The king gives you a lopsided smirk in return. You turn on your heel after that, unable to take any more of his presence. Yoongi nears Jungkook who maintains his steel gaze at the unexpected visitor and says lowly,

“Pleasant to see you again after so long…brother.”

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