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hanlimz · 4 months

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[midnight thoughts: jungwon + the sublime]

synopsis: after an arduous battle, jungwon isn't sure if he's going to make it, but he has to say something before he goes. pairing: yang jungwon x gn!reader genre/warnings: spiderwon!au, angst with happy ending / mentions of blood, discussions of death, overall angsty themes but no one actually dies!, lots of confessions of love, and weird inclusion of "the sublime" bc we talked abt it in my eng class, also NOT proofread :,) wc: ~2.4k (haha OOPS) a/n: heyyyy how yall doin :))))) this has been sitting in my drafts forEVER ... and i finished it at 1am b4 my first day of school so be warned for inconsistencies / i liked the first half of this drabble but the second half is not my fave ,, so sorry that i couldn't do you justice spiderwon

yang jungwon never believed in the concept of the sublime. that uncanny mixture of overwhelming fear and unsettling fascination never managed to make an impression on him. especially in his line of work, jungwon is firm in his notion of death: when the time comes, a vast blackness will consume him; the void will leech away his life, and he will cease to exist. there will be no theatrics, no white light, no booming voice or angel song—only a comforting emptiness welcoming him into the dark.

now, however, jungwon lies alone in a familiar back alley; the tips of his fingers are numb from the amount of blood he's lost, and he can hardly lift his head up from the brick wall it's resting on. the palms of his hands are stained a deep crimson as he attempts to stop the river of red spilling from his thigh. jungwon admires the eerily beautiful way in which the body lets go; glinting in the dim street lights, his wounds glitter like rubies in a summer sunset. at this point, succumbing to his injuries seems inevitable, and jungwon thinks there may be some truth to be found in sublimity.

but, he's not ready to die. not yet—not with so many things left undone, so many things left unsaid.

with the little strength he has left, jungwon reaches for his backpack hidden in the nook behind the dumpster. he pulls out his phone and dials a number number he knows by heart; his cold fingers fumble over the screen, and he curses his current lack of dexterity. eventually, though, the machine begins to ring. the sound grates on his ears as he waits with bated breath for you to pick up.

"hello?" you croak, your question laden with sleep, "who is it?"

a breathy chuckle escapes jungwon's lips. he had forgotten how late it was, how you mentioned earlier that you had a calulus exam tomorrow, and just how gorgeous you sounded when you were tired. "sorry, [y/n] ... didn't mean to wake you," jungwon sighs, "just wanted to hear your voice."

"won, seriously?" you scoff, "this couldn't have waited 'til tomorrow? i mean, it's—it's two in the morning ... i was literally just dreaming about acing that calc test."

a dopey grin fastens itself to jungwon's lips as he wills his eyes to stay open. if he falls asleep, he knows there's a possibility that he won't get back up; so, he indulges for a bit, listening to your fatigued grumbling and smiling like an idiot. "honestly, m'not sure if tomorrow's in my cards, [y/n]," he admits, trying to hide how labored his breaths are becoming, "'nd i jus' wanted to hear you one last time."

"yang jungwon, what the hell are you—" jungwon knows exactly when you realize he's in trouble. he knows exactly when you realize he's not messing with you. the abrupt pause, the hitch in your breath, the way you inhale through your teeth—it's almost too obvious. "oh fuck," you continue, "oh shit ... won, where are you? are you hurt? what can i do to help?"

jungwon coughs out a laugh, "'m in the alley off jackson ave, 'nd i think i've bled on every piece of old furniture back here, if that says anything."

your breathing is frantic. jungwon listens to the sound of rustling clothes and the occasional thud of your foot as it hits your bed frame. you're cursing and mumbling and unravelling at the seams, searching for whatever you can that might help you help jungwon. out loud, you go through a list: gauze, neosporin, saline.

"am i missing anything?" you ask, not expecting a response.

"bandages?" jungwon replies.

"bandages!" you exclaim, "i almost forgot the fucking bandages?" there's more noise on the other side of the phone, and jungwon doesn't let himself relax until he hears your window crack open. metal clangs as you rush down the fire escape; he wills the beating of his heart to match the tempo of your feet against the steps. jungwon wills himself to stay alive. and, it's almost as though you can read his mind through the phone. "don't you dare fall asleep, yang jungwon. talk to me about something—anything—just don't fall asleep."

he racks his brain for a topic of conversation; the nerves building in his stomach as he anticipates next week's orgo exam, the cat he rescued from a tree in queensbridge park earlier today, the new thai restaurant that opened up near his apartment building. options race through his mind, but all of jungwon's thoughts lead back to you.

"i love you," jungwon says, abrupt yet resolute.

"oh god." you suck in an incredulous gasp, "you're delirious. this is—"

"i'm not delirious," he interrupts, voice hauntingly clear. "i know what i'm saying. and, i'm saying that i love you, [y/n] [l/n]."

for a moment, the line crackles with a thick, viscous silence that seeps through the grainy static; it's heavy, almost too real, and jungwon listens to the sound of your shoes slamming against the pavement until you speak again. "okay," you sigh, something unreadable swimming behind your words, "keep talking to me, jungwon."

jungwon takes in a deep breath before speaking again. his whole body is cold now, and if it weren't for the weakness spreading throughout his veins, he's positive his teeth would be chattering. inhaling the concoction of gasoline fumes, freshly dumped trash, and frigid, autumn air, jungwon feels the chill of the reaper creeping up the length of his spine. its spindly fingers beckon him into that same darkness he was once so sure of, once so okay with. but, jungwon can't let himself give in to its temptation. after all, he has someone waiting for him.

"you give me this feeling," jungwon declares in an inexplicable moment of lucidity, "'nd i dunno how to explain it. it's—it's like ... i look at you, and you pull me in. an invisible string, maybe? fate? true love? i'm—i have no idea what to call it. you always make me want to know more, even though i've known you forever. since we were kids, [y/n]—i've felt like this for years. and, i'm sorry. i'm sorry for not telling you earlier, for not telling you when i told you about the whole spiderman thing.

"i'm such an idiot for making you worry. someone who loves you shouldn't do that to you, i shouldn't do that to you. and, god [y/n]—i love you so much. you're this force of nature, you know? drawing me in, even though it's dangerous. and, even though i'm terrified of what the consequences might be, i love you so much that i'm afraid to die without saying it at least once.

"i'm—i'm so sorry for being so stupid, because—" jungwon whispers with a shaky voice, teetering on the edge of consciousness, "i love you, [y/n]. i love you."

jungwon's hearing is fading in and out, and his vision is growing blurry; but, the sounds of your footsteps accompanied by the incessant drone of his phone keeps him from slipping into that overwhelming darkness. you take in a sharp breath, and his head lolls in your direction. jungwon's lips are molded into a mindless, faraway smile; his eyes are misted over, foggy with both pain and fatigue. he's not all there, but he still manages to be cheerful. it astounds you.

rushing over to begin applying all the first aid supplies you managed to stuff into your backpack. wound-wash, gauze, bandage, wound-wash, gauze, bandage, wound-wash gauze bandage, wound-washgauzebandage. the sheer amount of blood that has been leeched from his body makes you dizzy; your head is spinning as you try to calculate just how many pints would be equal to what you've just sopped up. glancing up at your best friend (crush? lover?) you see that his eyes have drooped shut. his skin is pallid, his lips are pale, his neck is craned at an awkward angle as it rests on his shoulder. and, your heart stops because you didn't get to say it back.

"no. no, no, no ... won—jungwon, wake up!" a storm brews in your stomach. it starts as a mellow rain pattering against the lining of your intestines, then becomes a raging tempest as it bubbles up and out of your throat. "please, please, please! i got here in time, i swear—i never cared about the stupid, fucking calc test! i cared about you, i care about you! and, i'm here now, so you can't leave. you can't leave me."

an inhuman shriek claws through your lips, ricocheting against the brick walls that seem to be caving in around you; the weight of the world crashes into your frail shoulders, threatening to crush you. as you inch even closer to jungwon's shrouded figure, your pants are soaked through with a crude mixture of blood and rainwater. you reach out for him and cup his cheek with a trembling hand, and part of you swears his skin is still warm to the touch.

but, hope has no place here.

instead, you cradle his head and heave his body to rest against yours. he is astonishingly heavy; you can feel his muscles ripple beneath the tips of your fingers, but you're already convinced. your best friend is dead. slowly, the cement will absorb his heat, and he will grow cold. as the morning draws nigh, you will be forced to put his mask back on and leave him for someone else to find. then, the news articles will pour in, and the city will have stolen not only his life, but his death as well. tears are wetting his scalp as you bury your nose into his sweat-caked hair. you're gripping at his suit so hard you think the threads might snap, and the throbbing in your head is nothing compared to the agony in your heart.

the wailing doesn't stop until, in your peripherals, you see his finger twitch. sucking a staggering breath through his nose, jungwon cracks open a tired eye to gaze up at you. "i would—" he coughs out with a wince, "i would never leave you."

in your stupor, his voice doesn't register first. his mouth moves, but no sound escapes him; then, the words play over again in your mind while his lips remain closed. seconds melt into minutes, and you float away from your body. a numbness overtakes you as you stare at the scene before you from about five feet away; your fingers are still clutching at the suit fibers, the pajamas you chose earlier tonight are now saturated with blood, and jungwon is breathing. jungwon is breathing. jungwon is breathing.

snapping back into yourself, you place a weak hand on his chest. steadily, certainly—it rises and falls; the beating of his heart, though shallow and slow, thrums beneath your palm. shifting your stare to his face, you are greeted once again by a familiar, wry smile. jungwon is alive. despite all odds, the boy you love is alive; and, try as you might, you can't really help yourself.

"[y/n]?" he croaks, quirking the eyebrow above his less swollen eye, "can you hear—"

"i love you, too."

the utterance dangles precariously in the frigid midnight air. jungwon's lack of response causes your stomach to churn until he relexes further into your frame, huffing out a pained laugh. he lets himself rest for a moment, relishing in the warmth he manages to leech from your skin. "it wasn't ... wasn't supp—supposed to happen like this, you know?" jungwon protests, voice catching on his fatigue and discomfort. "i ... had everything planned—planned out."

"won, you don't—"

baring his teeth, he lifts a hand to hold the one you kept on his chest and barrels through your objection. "i was gonna take you to the met ... gonna take you for a pic—a picnic in central park." jungwon sputters, pressing his forehead against your upper arm, "then, we would swing ... back to your apartment. 'nd, i was gonna tell—tell you. tell you about how i feel."

still supporting his neck with your arm, you move to take his face in your palm once more. jungwon's gaze is sharper than it was just minutes ago—more focused, more alert. the emotions swirling in those deep pools of raw umber are more multitudinous than the stars they reflect. gratitude, torment, joy, defeat, love. bridging the gap that had separated the two of you for so long, you stop just shy of his lips. a dynamic heat emanates from them; jungwon is practically vibrating under your touch, living and breathing.

"are you okay?" you ask, "is this okay?"

jungwon answers by pushing himself up—closing the distance, sharing your breath, connecting your souls. salt and iron dance on his tongue as your tears mingle with his blood. it's a hypnotizing concoction—one that threatens to send him reeling, one that threatens to have him spinning out with no hope of return. fireworks explode behind his eyelids, a myriad of bright reds and vibrant oranges blinds him, and jungwon uses what is left of his strength to grip your wrist; he grounds himself and allows his lungs to burn as he breathes you in.

after a while, however, your parting is instinctual as the lack of oxygen forces you apart—two bodies trying to preserve themselves long enough to meet again. with a labored sigh, jungwon slumps backwards and tucks his chin to catch your gaze. in that moment, he finds himself frozen; his essence is suspended motionless, positively bewitched by you. in the silence, where all he can sense is you, jungwon embraces the ever-present warmth that has flourished within him. it floods his being with a terrifyingly powerful adoration for you. it is nothing like he has ever felt before, and though he is brave enough to confess, this extent of his love for you—it scares him.

however, as your skin glows in the light of the moon and your eyes pool with the desire for a future with him, jungwon digs his feet in and roots your love deep within his heart. he refuses to let this fear grow in its place; instead, he vows to nurture it, to care for it, to protect it. as he lies in your arms, jungwon rejects the sublime once more and chooses for himself.

"i love you, [y/n]," he whispers into your palm.

the world seems to go quiet as it listens for your response.

"i love you, too, jungwon."

#enhypen fluff #enha fluff #jungwon fluff #enhypen headcanons #; — cass writes: jungwon #enhypen #jungwon headcanons #jungwon imagines #jungwon reactions #enha scenarios #enha imagines #enha angst #enhypen angst #enha x reader #jungwon x reader

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redrose10 · 4 months

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Alright here is Chapter 5! Originally it was supposed to be a much shorter chapter but I didn’t like the way it flowed so I changed it up. There are still a few more chapters to go!

Yoongi X Female Reader. CEO/Arranged Marriage AU

Summary: You were selected to marry the wayward CEO/Billionaire/Heir, Min Yoongi. You went into it with an open mind and heart determined to try and make it work. Yoongi on the other hand had no intention of ever letting you in let alone allowing himself to fall in love with you. Slowly you start to associate the smell of cinnamon and vanilla with the feelings of hurt and sorrow.

Word count: 3,016

Warnings: (May get updated as chapters progress): Arranged marriage, cheating/infidelity, hints of smut (Probably won’t get very explicit but we’ll see how it goes), Sexual Assault, Brief mentions of death, Reader grew up an orphan, General Angst, Swearing

Yoongi had started making an effort. It was small but you did notice little things like the tea kettle already filled when you got up in the morning and he’d text you to ask how your day was going. He didn’t seem to be bringing home women any more either but you knew he had other ways of accomplishing that so you were still skeptical.

Yoongi walked through the door after a particularly hard day. His company was denied the patent that they desperately needed to move forward on a new project costing them millions of dollars and precious time. He of course got chewed out over it by the entire board and it soured his mood for the rest of the day. He just wanted to get home, take a shower, have a glass of whiskey, and get in bed.

When he entered his home he heard loud music blaring through the speakers. He recognized the song as some girl group but he’d never cared enough to actually pay attention. It was catchy though. But what really caught his eye was you dancing around the kitchen in a white T-shirt that was just long enough to barely cover your backside. Your hair up in a messy bun. Your hips swayed to the music as you stirred something in a pot before returning to the cutting board. He watched you for a few seconds admiring your beauty. How you sang along to the song somewhat off key but still managed to sound beautiful. He did deserve the scolding he got earlier because he truly was an idiot. An idiot that had someone like you right there practically handed to him and he tried his best to ruin it all.

Slowly he walked over and cleared his throat, “It smells really good in here. What did you make?”

You were startled nearly jumping a foot in the air as you didn’t expect him to be home so early, “Oh Namjoon’s mom gave me a recipe for Jajangmyeon so I wanted to try it out.” Yoongi knew you hadn’t spoken to his mother since the wedding but here you were exchanging recipes with another man’s mom. That stung. “Would you like some?”, you asked almost certain he’d turn you down like every other time but to your shock he nodded, “Yeah sure. Sounds good.”

Placing the bowl in front of him he immediately took a huge bite.

“This is amazing Y/N. Best I’ve ever had.”

“Thank you.”, you replied before digging into your own bowl. The two of you made light conversation over dinner. It felt domestic and while this was what you’d always wanted it created a fear in you that eventually this would all come crashing down and be worse than before.

He ate the bowl in no time and even asked for seconds. Once you were both finished he offered to clean up and wash the dishes. You stared at him in disbelief causing him to stop what he was doing and look up at you. “What?”, he asked like what he was doing was completely normal.

“Are you feeling okay?”

He nodded, “Yeah I’m fine. Why?”

“Well I’m just waiting for you to tell me you got someone pregnant or like you’re dying or something.”

Yoongi chuckled and for the first time you saw his gummy smile. “I just thought I’d help you out since you made that delicious meal.” You gave a small smile, “Oh okay. Well thank you.” Quickly you made your way back to your room to hideout until he went to bed. You fully expected to wake up and realize this was all a dream.

After that night things between you and Yoongi stayed pretty weird. Technically they were pretty normal for a married couple but for the two of you it was strange.

He started eating dinner with you at least once a week sometimes more. Some mornings you’d wake up to him making breakfast. The two of you never spoke much but ate in comfortable silence. One day he even insisted that he accompany you and Namjoon to the opening of a new art museum claiming that he didn’t want rumours to circulate about the two of you but the way he placed his arm around you any time Namjoon got a little too close for his liking told you differently.

Things peaked at weirdness on a chill October night. It was the annual Min Gala and the first big event that you and Yoongi would be attending together. There had been other smaller gatherings here and there but nothing of this level. The Min Gala was known globally for its luxury and grandeur while pulling in celebrities and royalty from around the world, and you were now going. Which is why you were currently staring at yourself in the full length mirror you had purchased for your room. The outfit, something Jimin had picked, a velvet navy blue floor length dress with a deep v cut in the front and a slit on the right side that almost went up to your hip. Even you had to admit that you looked incredible. While admiring yourself you heard Yoongi lightly knocked at the door, “Y/N we seriously have to get going. We’re gonna be late.” Not wanting to make him angry you grabbed your clutch and swung open the door not expecting him to still be standing there.

He looked you up and down with wide eyes. “Y-You look very nice.”, he stuttered. You gave a shy smile back, “You look very nice yourself.” He then lead the way for you two out to the waiting car.

When the driver pulled up to the event you went into panic mode. There must’ve been 100 photographers along with hundreds of other various personnel. You were very out of your element. Yoongi could sense your uneasiness. “I know it’s a lot Y/N but keep your head up and just look ahead. I’ll be there with you through the whole thing.” You nodded as the car door opened. Yoongi stepped out first then turned and gave you his hand to help you out also. He placed a hand on your lower back and started quickly but gently ushering you through the crowd. You did your best to politely ignore the various questions being thrown at you while also trying your best not to trip due to the blinding lights. Once inside you felt a rush of relief. One of the staff members came over and grabbed your coats while a waiter brought you a glass of champagne which you happily downed.

You fully expected Yoongi to run off to the first woman that looked his way and leave you to fend for yourself but surprisingly be stayed by your side until an older gentleman came over asking to speak with him for a bit. Yoongi excused himself and told you he’d be back shortly as business needed to be handled.

You weren’t alone long though before Jimin slid over wrapping you in a big hug and catching you up on all the gossip you missed. He was in the middle of telling you a story about his trip when another presence walked up next to you. The man looked vaguely familiar but you couldn’t quite place it. Luckily Jimin stepped right in to introduce you, “Oh Y/N please meet one of my really good friends. This is Taehyung.” The man gave you a big boxy smile before reaching out to shake your hand, “Hi Y/N, It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too.”, you smiled. Taehyung was one of the most handsome men you’d ever seen. He had soft black hair that had some natural curls which fell perfectly. Smooth skin and beautiful eyes. He was dressed impeccably. His outift a dark purple three piece suit. It reminded you a lot of the dark green suit Yoongi had on the day you met him and that’s when it hit you. You were talking to the famous fashion designer and owner of KTVY, a very prominent fashion line that had quickly entered the same ranks as well known brands like Dior or Versace.

You spoke with Jimin and Taehyung for a while listening to their various escapades. Taehyung playfully pouted when he realized you weren’t wearing one of his designs and Jimin being the one that picked it out made him pout even deeper. Taehyung started grabbing at your dress talking about the low quality and how he would’ve made a nicer dress for you. It was clear he was a very hands on person but you felt comfortable with him. “Looks like someone’s jealous.”, Jimin leaned over whispering into your ear. Glancing over your shoulder you spotted Yoongi staring back at you while ignoring the man next to him expressively talking with his hands. Instead of his trademark unreadable expression he actually looked angry and it made you feel a certain kind of way.

When he was finally able to break free from the conversation with his business partner Yoongi walked over and pulled you into him before placing a kiss on your cheek, “Come on Y/N. Let go find my parents.” As you were being drug away you quickly waved goodbye to Jimin and Taehyung missing the way they both rolled their eyes and giggled to each other like teenage girls. After your meeting with Jimin and Taehyung, Yoongi’s mood for the rest of the evening seemed to change. He refused to leave your side. Every ten minutes he’d tell you how beautiful you looked, the most beautiful woman in the world. He also decided to start trying to mask his anger by downing Jack and Cokes like they were water.

Eventually you were able to cut him off and convince him that it was time to go home so there you were waiting for the driver to pull up while you did your best to hold up the swaying Yoongi. Luckily you were able to sneak out the back so no one other than a few kitchen staff saw you. Once in the car you started digging around looking for a bucket or bag or anything incase Yoongi’s body decided to rid itself of the alcohol on the way home. Just as you reached to look in one of the cabinets you felt hands grabbing your waist pulling on you and you fell back onto the seat next to Yoongi.

He started nuzzling his face into your neck mumbling something you couldn’t quite understand. “Here you need to sit up.”, you said while doing your best to push him over. He looked at you with glassy eyes and flushed cheeks.

“You are not going to feel good tomorrow morning. This is gonna be the hangover of all hangovers.”

He scoffed, “Yeah well I can’t feel any worse than I did earlier.”

“What do you mean?”, you asked while searching the car for a bottle of water you knew he needed.

“The way Taehyung looked you up and down and the way he had his hands all over you. I’m gonna kill Jimin. I told him not to introduce the two of you.”

You snorted at his remark. Yoongi looked over at you, “I’m serious. And after I kill him he’s fired too.” You just laughed it off. You were like 99% sure Yoongi wouldn’t do either but you made a mental note to text Jimin later and give him a warning.

Once you were standing outside your penthouse door you were fumbling with the code while trying to keep Yoongi standing upright and you were really regretting not taking the help from the driver when he offered. Even though Yoongi had a small frame he was surprisingly heavy and the fact that he had zero control right now was not helping. After finally getting Yoongi in the door you started walking him towards the kitchen to get some water and some food in his system when suddenly he grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards him. Within seconds he had you pushed up against the wall with his arms on either side caging you in while using the wall to brace himself. Slowly he placed kisses starting behind your ear and trailing down towards your cleavage.

“Fuck that Kim Taehyung. I’m never buying shit from him again.”

You chuckled at his whiny statement before Yoongi grabbed your hips pulling you flush against him as he continued to pepper kisses all over any visible skin he could reach.

He moved his left hand to your lower back while his right hand slowly started moving down your hip to the slit in your dress that he gently started to toy with. “Y/N, I don’t know how you did this to me. I wanted to hate you so bad. I wanted to hate our situation. I tried so hard to prevent you from breaking down my walls but I can’t stop thinking about you. I want to love you and I’m scared because I think I’m starting to.”, he mumbled between kisses. He began to tease the lace of the black underwear that you had on and that’s when you broke out of your haze and stopped him.

He was drunk and you were sober and even though he initiated all of this it felt like taking advantage of him and there was also a part of you that was worried once he sobered up he’d regret everything and his words would mean northing.

“Come on Drunky. Let’s get you to bed.”, you said pulling him down the hall. He looked around the room confused, “Who the hell is Drunky?”, which earned a big eye roll on your part. You help him get undressed and put him in the bed. You tried to leave to go get some water and some pain killers but he grabbed your hand and pulled you onto the bed next to him, “Please stay with me. Every time you walk away from me I worry it’ll be the last time I ever see you.” Again you remembered that this was just the liquor talking and in the morning he’d probably be upset that you were even in his room. You nodded and laid in the bed so he rested his head on your chest as you began to run your fingers through his hair hoping it would soothe him to sleep faster.

Thankfully it worked like a charm because he was asleep within minutes and you quickly got the supplies you were looking for before setting them down next to his bed for easy access when he woke up the next morning.

You pulled the blanket up over his shoulders and did a double check once again to make sure that he had everything he would need before heading over to the door.

You stopped when you noticed a bottle sitting on his dresser. It was beautiful and very ornate. A matte red glass bottle with a gold topper. In big intricate letters it read ‘Solace, A Comforting Fragrance by KTVY’. You chuckled at the irony that this was his choice of cologne. Gently you popped open the top and the familiar scent of cinnamon and vanilla hit you and a wave of memories of the last year came flooding back. Taking a look over at the man who was now softly snoring you felt anxious and uncertain about the future. You knew how to handle cold cheating asshole Yoongi. That was easy. But this new Yoongi, the one who’s been trying to improve and who claims he’s falling in love, you don’t know how to move forward without getting hurt more than you already have been.

Placing the bottle back in its spot you walked out gently closing the door behind you.

The next morning Yoongi woke up with a massive headache. After downing the glass of water and pain killers he took a quick shower and walked out into the kitchen. You greeted him with a smile and placed a large plate of food down in front of him, “Here this is called Y/N’s happy hangover special. You need the grease and carbs. There’s also hot coffee ready for you but you need to finish a glass of water first.”

He smiled and began to dig into the food letting you know how good it was. He watched you walk over and water the blue hydrangea plant that he had delivered a few weeks ago. He thought back to that morning. He wasn’t sure what was more beautiful, the flowers themselves or the way your face lit up when you saw them.

Then like a bad flashback the events of the night before came back to him. How he was filled with jealousy watching Taehyung touch you. How he used alcohol to try and extinguish the flames that burned inside of him. The way he kissed you and grabbed at you like a horny teenager. How he told you he was falling in love with you. It was all true.

You hadn’t mentioned any of it yet though which concerned him. He thought maybe he’d upset you or took it too far too fast. He was worried that you didn’t take his words seriously and assumed they were only spoken thanks to his drunk state of mind.

He wanted to tell you all of that same stuff now, while sober, and maybe have a deeper more thorough discussion. He cleared his throat, “Umm Y/N, about last ni-.”

*Ding*

Checking your phone you saw a text from Jimin letting you know he was outside.

“Hey Yoongi I have to get going. I’m hanging out with Jimin today. Don’t wait up.”

“Oh okay.”

Grabbing your purse you ran out the door without looking back.

He bit his lip staring at the space you were no longer occupying. “I deserve that.”, he whispered before pouring himself a cup of coffee.

#bts #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #yoongi angst #yoongi fic #yoongi x y/n #arranged marriage au #bts fanfic #cinnamon&vanilla #yoongi au #yoongi

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genshindsau · 10 months

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Pleasure for Two, Punishment for One - Part Two

Summary: Genshin!au, Empress!au. Its finally Scaramouche's turn to be dealt with after having to watch you and Aether. Except the fact that you are not done with his punishment and instead drag it out until he is completely pliant and submissive for you.

CW: Dom!reader, sub!character, reverse harem, bondage, tentacle use, OOC, mentions of voyeurism, throatfucking, gagging, unsafe sex, cum eating, urethral insertion, edging, use of "no" but there is a safeword system so reader ignored him when he says no, one line mention of rimming, anal, aftercare.

Part One

On top of the wrinkled bed sheets laid a naked and exhausted Aether. He was covered in sweat, cum, and drool but he couldn't bring himself to care. All he could feel was a satisfying ache run throughout his body. He was still trembling and just coherent enough that he could barely make out the feeling of your hand on his back as you rubbed it. One of your fingers grazed his backside and he couldn't suppress the flinch. His hole was bright red and sore to the touch, indicating just how well used he was. Despite wanting to curl up to you, he couldn't even make himself move.

He vaguely made out the breathless chuckle that left your lips.

"Are you okay to stay there for a while?" It took a second to process you were talking to him. Fighting the sleepiness that was starting to settle over him, he wrestled with keeping his eyes open.

"I still have someone else to take care of," He managed to spot you, who was also nude, but then he was able to remember one more person that was in the room.

Huh, I forgot he was here, Aether distantly thought. In the same position as earlier sat Scaramouche. Instead of the intimating concubine Aether was used to, sat someone who looked completely debauched. His body was shaking, constant watery sobs and pleads left his lips, tears fell freely from his eyes and the most noticeable were the tentacles that continued to explore and play with his body.

You brushed hair behind Aether's ears while waiting for his answer. It seemed to take a few seconds to register that you were asking him something. However, in the end he was able to nod. Knowing he was most likely about to fall asleep you decided that you would clean him later. Once you're done with Scaramouche it would be best to just let them soak in the baths for a while.

Speaking of Scaramouche, you moved to get off the bed and then stood in front of him. In the back of his mind he was able to understand that you were in front of him, but he struggled with lifting his head.

"I - please - I can't, i cant, i cant, i cant," he repeated as his head fell forward, his forehead against your thighs. He had no strength left in his body and every nerve felt like it was on fire. With no idea how long he was forced to deal with this pleasurable bordering on painful torment while watching you and Aether, it felt like it would never end. He stopped counting after Aether came the fifth time and you the second.

"Is it hard? Does it hurt?" Your words may have been sympathetic, but your tone was anything but. There was mockery underneath your words and your hand roughly pulled his head back and off your thigh. He felt a rush of tears well up in his eyes at the rough treatment.

"I'm sor-" he voices fell off into a sob when the tentacle that was in his ass gave a sharp thrust causing his body to jerk as best as it could while still wrapped in ropes.

"Hmm? I couldn't hear you." You squatted in front of him, your hand still in his hair. He was granted another thrust, followed by another and he was hoping that maybe this time you would let him cum. However, the tentacle also resumed its place back into his urethra. Just a few thrusts would have made him cum, he knew that, and you definitely knew that based on the way you manipulate the tentacle with your magic. You were dead set on not letting him cum.

"I'm - ahh - sorry. pleaseplease." Scaramouche was beginning to let out garbled nonsense. His prostate was being hit with each thrust, but he couldn't cum. He couldn't cum. He couldn't cum. That thought brought fresh tears to his eyes.

He could feel the burning in his stomach as he was forced to linger on the edge. His cock felt like it was about to combust, all slick and red. The tentacle slithered down his urethra, refusing to let him properly cum and scaramouche just broke, gasping sobs leaving his lips as drool slipped out of his mouth and onto the floor.

His hair was let go by you and he slumped down a little bit due to the loss of tension.

"Scaramouche," he could vaguely recognize your voice through his muddled mind. "Look at me."

You were speaking, he could hear you, but he couldn't comprehend what you were saying. It wasn't until a hand gripped his chin and angled his face towards you that he was able to focus on something. The rest of the world blurred out as he focused on your face and your face alone. When you saw the glossy look in his eyes, indicating how lost in his mind he was become, you softened your tone.

"I suppose it would be too much to expect you to listen. At least not when you're as mindless as you are right now." You offered false sympathy as you lightly shook his head with your fingers that were gripping his chin.

"Y'know many people complain about the words you spew out. About how you're too rude, too condescending, too arrogant." One of your fingers traced the glossiness of his lips as you spoke before dipping into his mouth and running over his tongue, coating your fingers with his saliva. "Afterall, this is what got you in this position in the first place."

"I guess I'm going to have to make it to where you won't be able to speak for a while."

The next thing Scaramouche was able to distantly recognize was the feeling of something soft on his tongue. His tongue moved at the pressure and felt around the new intrusion in his mouth. He was rewarded with a small moan that left your lips. For the first time you placed a gentle and delicate hand on his head which caused Scaramouche to lean forward, pressing against it and seeking out for that comfort.

"ah - ack," Scaramouche was interrupted with a garbled cough as he pressed forward trying to chase the comfort of your hand on his head, unintentionally pushing your cock deeper into the tight cavern of his throat. Even with the coughing and the obvious fluttering of his throat, you refused to pull out, opting to hold him still and force him to get used to the feeling of your length down his throat.

You gave him a few seconds to try and calm down until the majority of the coughing subsided. Scaramouche squirmed, his hands aching to come and rest against you but all that did was ignite a slight burning in the skin around his wrist due to him straining against the rope.

You pulled back a fraction but still kept the head of your cock in his mouth. Scaramouche eagerly sucked in as much air as possible, his chest heaving with his deep breaths.

Deeming he had enough time to situate himself you tightened the grip in his hair, "Be good for me and maybe I'll let you come afterwards."

That was all the warning he got before you pushed his head forward and thrusted your hips as well. With the first thrust, you only fed him half of your cock before pulling back a little and thrusting once more, this time forcing it all the way down his throat. He squirmed and tried to pull back instinctively due to the pressure in his throat, but you held firm. You kept him against your pelvis, his nose grazing your lower stomach before loosening your grip in his hair, letting him pull back just enough to where he could breath.

You slowly thrusted into his mouth one more time until his lips were at your base before pulling out. You did this a few times before you finally started to speed up. Scaramouche was unable to focus on using his tongue or suctioning his lips, but you didn't seem to mind, happily fucking up into his mouth. Instead of worrying about that he just adverted his eyes up to your face and tried to focus on that - wanting to see that you were feeling pleasure from your harsh treatment. However, this was deemed nearly impossible due to the tears that were welling up and trickling down his cheeks.

Glug, glug, glug, gurgling sounds filled the room along with soft moans that left your lips. Looking down you had to still your hips to stop from coming. Scaramouches eyes were unfocused and glossy and his lower face was covered in cum, drool, snot, and saliva. You could tell by the way he stopped struggling against your hold that he had finally fallen into that submissive headspace.

The loss of fullness in his throat led to scaramouche blinking away his tears and trying to look at you, afraid that he had done something wrong. Hurriedly, he had stuck his tongue out and tried to lick around the part of your cock that remained in his mouth. To appease you he even tried to swallow more of your cock, until it once again touched the back of throat. Despite the small convulses in his body he did not try to move away.

"Fuck... you're killing me here." You had let go of the tight grip you had in his hair and instead rested your hand on top of his head. You took a few deep breaths in order to push down your arousal.

Once you calmed yourself down, you pulled your hips back a small bit before shallowing thrusting back in. You were gentler this time around, not making it to where he violently choked against you. Instead, you set a steady rhythm. With each thrust you would still yourself at the back of this throat for a few seconds to feel the convulsions of his throat. You would finally pull back once he started to turn a little red in the face. You kept this going until you felt the familiar twinge of arousal in your lower stomach.

"Shit," Your hips picked up their pace. "Be good for me and swallow."

Scaramouche flinched at the first taste that spurted onto his tongue before he eagerly swallowed it down. He struggled to swallow it all and instead some flowed out of the side of his mouth. You kept him held against your stomach before pulling back and taking yourself out of his mouth.

Scaramouche's throat was burning from the rough treatment, and he had hunched forward coughing.

It took a moment before he realized he was being moved. One moment he was situated on his knees and the next thing he knew he was face down on the ground. His muscles burned at the new position; his weight was now resting directly on his knees, and he tried to move them but was unable to do more than scooch them. He rested his cheek against the floor and shivered at the coolness which was in direct contrast to the heat that was run rampage in his body.

"haah.. plea-ase," His voice cracked when he felt your fingers replace the tentacle that was previously shoved up his ass. There wasn't as much of a stretch but the fact that you were now touching him instead of a tentacle caused his body to shake.

When you entered three fingers into him, he reflexively grinded back against them, desperately wanting to feel them hit that one spot inside him that always set his body aflame. You didn't reprimand him for that and instead let him do some of the work, opting to just curl your fingers.

"nghhahh, there, right there." he cried out, but his voice was so hoarse and choppy that you could barely make out what he was saying. Even as he kept thrusting back and getting his prostate hit, you weren't allowing him to cum. That damned tentacle that was in his urethra and the rope that was tied around his balls was constricting him. "pleasepleaseplease - out. Need it out," he wailed, and his body was trembling so violently that you were worried he would pull a muscle.

You pulled your fingers out of him and wrapped them around his thighs and gently massaged them. He whined at the loss of touch, but his body unconsciously relaxed under your fingers that were pushing into the muscle on his thighs. You kept doing that until he became pliant once more and was not at a risk of harming himself.

"Relax," you cooed, moving to grip both of his cheeks with your hands and spread them. A small chuckle passed your lips when you saw his hole gaping and fluttering.

"cant." He gasped out. "hurts... need t' cum. please plea - ahh!" A throaty scream escaped his lips when he felt your tongue lick around his rim. You moved to kiss his cheek and traveled kisses and licks up his spine until you reached his neck. Your fingers traced the intricate ropes before tugging them and forcing his upper body off the ground. You continued to pull until he was once more on sat up on his knees but now, he had his back pressed against your chest.

Your cock situated itself right in between his ass cheeks and you rutted against him. "Want to cum?" It was a teasing question.

Scaramouche weakly nodded. "please. 'm sorry, I wont - I won't" his throat was burning through his pleads and in some distant part of his mind he knew he should not be talking anymore but he couldn't bring himself to worry about it. "won't talk back, wont be rude. prom-promise."

You both knew this was lie and that in a few days' time he will be the same condescending and rude concubine he always is but right now at this moment, he completely believed what he is saying.

"Promise," you decided to play along.

"Promise," he whined out.

"Alright. You're done with your punishment. I suppose you should get your reward."

He felt the slickness of the tentacles leave his entire body. All that is left from them was a trail of wetness that left goosebumps rising in their wake. The second you pulled it out of his urethra a scream left his lips. His hips tried to buck away from the feeling but he couldn't. All those previous denied orgasms that were pushed back due to the tentacle stopping them came rushing over him tenfold. His cock spurted out load after load and it felt like a never-ending pleasure to him that was becoming painful. His body shook uncontrollably against your hold. He wasn't sure how it felt like he was still cumming, his hole gaping and spasming.

It took a while for his body to calm down and even then, he was still having shaking. One of your hands had wrapped around his waist and rested on his stomach and was rubbing small circles onto it. In his twitching, the hands behind his back had grazed your cock a few times and despite your own arousal pressing against him you were well aware that he could be too sensitive to deal with anything else.

Scaramouche had felt the twitching of your own cock against his back and fingers. Despite the oversensitivity in his body, he still craved for the closeness of you inside him. He could handle one more, he wanted to feel you inside of him this time instead of the sliminess of the tentacle.

"s'okay," he managed to whisper out. At the same time one of his hands clumsily grasped your cock. His thumb ran over the tip (or at least tried to) before struggling to position it at his entrance.

You raised an eyebrow, "You sure?"

He eagerly nodded, "please."

You positioned yourself at his entrance and was able to easily sink into him. The breath was knocked out of Scaramouche and a loud keen left his lips and his back arched. Once you were completely sheathed inside him you let out a shuddering breath as he twitched sporadically around you. You knew this would be a short round, Scaramouche would probably be able to cum one more time before his body would no longer be able to handle anything else.

You pulled out only a small amount before shallowly thrusting into him, trying not to hit his prostate just yet. With each thrust, small uh - uh - uh's passed through his lips. Even with these shallows thrust he felt his stomach tighten. His orgasm was building and embarrassingly quickly too. His crying only got louder because he knew he couldn't hang on anymore.

"c-cumming," he managed to wheeze out. His whole body became tense and he squeezed down on your own cock. You let out a groan of your own, a small orgasm wracking through your body. It wasn't overly strong but it did not bother you. Scaramouche's on the other hand was strong, too strong. His mouth fell open in a silent scream and his body had convulsed before he fell completely slack, mind falling in and out of consciousness.

He felt the tension of the rope released from his body. He was distantly aware that he was falling forward but he couldn't make his body move. He didn't hit the ground and instead fell right into your arms. He first recognized your scent and unconsciously nuzzled into your chest wanting to be surrounded by the smell. He felt a new pressure around his body but this time instead of the coarseness of rope he felt the softness of skin as you wrapped your arms around him.

You sat down on the ground and situated yourself before moving him into a more comfortable position on your lap. One hand came up to run through his tangled-up hair whilst the other took to wiping away all the dried up cum and drool. You couldn't do a perfect job with just your hand, but you managed to clear up some so that it was not sticking onto his face.

Scaramouche was letting out small puffs of air that had undertones of wheezes in them, showcasing how well used his throat was.

You should get one of the servants to make him a tea, you thought while your hand left his jaw and mindlessly went to rub his throat.

Scaramouche opened his lips but strained to say something, anything but he couldn't due to the throbbing in his throat from his crying and your treatment of it. He unconsciously squirmed away from the hand at his throat.

You were befuddled before realizing that he thought you were going to start another round since you usually place your hand on his throat during sexual encounters. Quickly moving your hand to his shoulder, your cooed at him and brought him closer to you.

"shh, it's alright you're all done." He lost the last bit of tension in his body and slumped against you. "You did so good for me." If he had the energy, he would have preened at your words but all he could managed was a shaky smile.

Neither of you moved from your position on the floor for a while. It wasn't until you felt his breath even out and his body become pliant that you decided to stand up. You kept him in your arms as you carried him to the joining bathroom. He let out small sounds at the jostling but did not open his eyes. You carefully settled him on one of the cushions set aside the tub and used magic to start the tub.

Once it was filled up and at an appropriate temperature you carefully maneuver him into the tub making sure not to aggravate any of the rope burns. You did not join him and instead, once he was settled, let go of him and went to stand up. At the loss of your touch Scaramouche couldn't help the panic that welled up inside him. His eyes snapped open and one of his hands weakly clutched onto your arm.

"Do - " He winced as the pain in his throat finally settled in. He wanted to tell you not to leave him, but he couldn't. You could see the despair in his eyes and reached out to pet his head before moving to caress his cheek.

"I have to get Aether too, lovely." Even with your reassurance he didn't want you to let go of him. He shook his head and clutch onto you tighter. He wasn't jealous at this moment but instead all he could focus on was the fact that in order for you to get Aether, you would have to leave him and that caused an unimaginable amount of panic to form inside him. He did not want to be alone when he was feeling as vulnerable as he was right now.

You let out a sigh and squatted down behind the tub and ran your hand through his hair.

"You trust me, right?" you kept your tone light as you played with strands of his hair. He had his knees curled up and was resting his head against them.

He nodded without hesitation, and you couldn't help the pride that resonated in your chest.

"Then I want you to close your eyes and stay in this position for 30 seconds alright." As you were speaking, you had let your magic cast over him and mimic an embrace. You also mimicked the feeling of your hand playing with his hair. Once you felt confident in your spell, you had slowly and quietly gone to grab Aether who was still laying on the bed. His eyes blearily blinked open when you lifted him in your arms.

"Finally done with him?" He whispered but there was no malice in his tone. He was well aware that Scaramouche had gone through a tough punishment and that he would be dealing with some discomfort for a while.

You hummed in acknowledgment as you reentered the bathroom. Scaramouche was in the same position as you left him, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

The tub was more than large enough to fit the three of you, so you had place Aether in and made sure the both of them were comfortable before joining them. You made sure to sit in between them because even in their headspaces (or rather Scaramouche's, Aether seemed more well recovered) they could spiral.

Within a few minutes of joining them, you could feel weight against one of your shoulders (Aether fell asleep first) and then on the other side of your body, Scaramouche nudged under your arm so that he could lay against your chest.

#genshin au #dom reader #sub character #sub genshin #sub genshin impact #consort au #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #empress au #c:aether #c:scaramouche #sub!aether #sub scaramouche #sub aether #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact

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xanqels · 9 months

Text

For I Have Sinned.

DarkCorruptedPriest!Joel Miller x Innocent!Reader

Summary: Father Miller sets eyes on you, and decides then and there that you are to be ruined by him.

Parings: joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: SMUT!!! No outbreak au! reader is a virgin and very naive, loss of innocence, corruption kink (he’s into taking her vcard), blackmail, dubcon, virginity loss, fingering, slight humiliation(?), bit of mocking, pet names (darlin’, baby, sweet girl etc), dirty talk, using the lords name in vain, unprotected piv (wrap before you tap), power imbalance, oral (f receiving), age gap (reader is mid to late 20s, Joel is late 50s), Joel is an asshole in this, mentions of god/the bible/sinning. Conclusion: Joel should not be a priest. if there’s any i’ve misses please let me know.

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: I would like to thank @chloeangelic for inspiring me to write this and also giving me some encouragement, and I’d also like to thank @toxicanonymity for inspiring me to write dark!joel and creating the joelkemon universe. Also I do apologise if the timing of the story is a bit everywhere, this is my first fanfic!! any and all criticism is welcome with open arms.

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He still remembers the first day he met you.

You and your family had brought him a pie, a cherry one. They wanted to welcome him, congratulate him for becoming the new priest in their humble town. A sweet gesture from such a perfectly sweet girl and her devout family.

He remembered your face, he could draw it from memory if he wanted to - if he could draw, that was. The perfect mix of beauty, grace and innocence stood before him that very day and he was hooked. Hooked on your gaze, your smile, your scent, but most of all, your innocence and blind naivety to the world.

He knew then and there, that you were his to ruin.

Every Sunday from then on, his eyes were stuck on you, what you were wearing, the way your cheeks flushed when your eyes met his. Everything about you was mere perfection. A sight of innocence, of naivety that he couldn’t wait to take hold of and ruin for every other man.

He wanted his name to be the last thing on your lips at night, and the first thing to be spoken in the morning. He wanted to curse your mind with images of him, to make you worship him instead of God. And so, in his mind he curated the perfect plan to get you alone.

“Go forth, knowing that you are cherished,” His voice, a deep texan accent, talking to the congregation, “chosen and empowered by the Creator of the Universe.” But why did it feel as though he was talking to purely you? His words, so enchanting you lingered on every line he spoke. His sermons were fresh, new and slightly modern. A stark contrast from Father Rafferty’s sermons.

“May his grace be upon you. Now and forevermore.” He looks up, eyes scanning the room before landing on yours. Dark brown iris’ peering into your soul, as you feel your cheeks flush. He likes the way your cheeks blush when you look at him. You want him. You need him, he tells himself. “Amen.” He states as you look away, the rest of the congregation, including yourself muttering a simple ‘Amen.’

As you and your family stand up in preparation to leave, Father Miller approaches you, a wide smile on his lips with his Bible and rosary beads in hand. “Mr and Mrs Spencer.” He says, shaking your fathers hand. “How lovely it is to see you again.”

“Well, Father, we could never miss one of your services.” Your mother speaks as you look idly at the floor, eyes tracing over the darkened, dented wood from where people have walked over time. You tune out the conversation, feeling ashamed for dropping Father Millers eyes earlier, and feeling so stupid for blushing.

“Won’t you, honey?” Your fathers voice snaps you out from your thoughts, eyes wide as you look between the three of them. “Pardon?” You ask, heart thumping in your chest.

“Father Miller wants you to help him decorate the church for Easter Sunday. There’ll be plenty of other people there. I think it’d be an excellent idea.” Your father says, as your eyes dart to Father Millers. He smiles, a sweet smile. A comforting, pleasant smile which puts you at ease. Those dark chocolate brown eyes, soft and kind.

You nod, and he clasped his hands together in glee. “Well, perfect. It’ll take a little while, but there’ll be plenty of breaks and we’ll provide food. Hopefully you don’t mind me keeping your daughter occupied for the entire day.” Father Miller says, and your parents don’t seem to mind. Just as long as you’re being the perfect catholic girl you’ve always been. Just as long as you’re kept out of trouble, and as long as you help Father Miller with whatever he needs.

A devout catholic you were. Born and baptised, risen in a strong catholic household and desperate to please the priest. You’d do anything he’d say or ask, as long as it wasn’t a sin, and Joel knew that. He knew how desperate you were to please someone so close to God, his messenger, how you itched to be as pure and holy as one could be. He knew he’d got you wrapped around his little finger

And so, the plan was set in motion. And at 11am on the following Thursday, you were there at the church doors, pushing the solid oak open as you walk into the dim room, the only form of light being the candles Father Miller had lit and the sun shining through the stained-glass windows.

Expecting to be met with various murmurs and fellow church-goers, you find the place empty. Completely deserted, almost, until your eyes lay on him. Tall, stoic and his gaze piercing at you, taking you in. Your small frame, your long white dress, the way your hair lay against your shoulders. The image of innocence.

He smiles, that same sweet smile that he gave you the previous Sunday. “You made it.” He says, walking towards you with his arms out, almost as though he was going to envelope you in a hug.

But he didn’t. He clasped his hands together, rubbing his palms together. “Father Miller.” You exhale softly, eyes scoping the otherwise empty church. “I thought we were all meeting here at eleven. Where is everyone?” You ask, twirling a strand of long hair around your index finger.

He shrugs. “‘m afraid I don’t know. I did invite them.” He says, lying through his teeth. You wouldn’t know that, of course. Too naive to think any differently, to even have a thought that Father Miller may just lie to you. Truth is, he didn’t invite anyone else. Not a single soul. It was only you and him.

You frown, clearly unhappy with the way no one else seemed to turn up but you. The way they so blatantly chose to ignore Father Miller’s need for help. “But you asked for help, surely they should’ve come.”

“Perhaps they got busy.” He lies, looking around the church, eyes glaring at the empty walls. “Anyways, this place won’t decorate itself.” He grins, turning and walking towards the back, hand gesturing for you to follow.

And you do, obediently. Into the back room of the church, full of foldable tables and chairs, boxes of decorations and broken pews. It’s dark, and smells of dust and mildew. The smell violates your nose as you try to adjust to the light, and then Joel flicks a switch, and a singular, dim lightbulb sparks to life.

You grimace at the surroundings. Untidy, dusty and slightly damp. There’s a dark oak table in the corner of the room, covered in cardboard boxes that are filled to the brim. Obviously this room hardly gets properly taken care of, but in a small town like yours, you aren’t surprised. Most of the things that enter this room hardly come back out, unless needed. But, you aren’t here to judge, you’re here to help. Help this poor, middle-aged priest who blessed the community with his sermons and his striking good looks… wait what?

You sigh as you approach the table full of boxes, slender fingers prising open the lids and rooting through the boxes of old memories and décor.

Behind you, Joel was hungrily glaring at your figure. The way you got to work without any questions. So submissive, so silent. Oh, how he can’t wait to hear you moan his name. To cum all over his cock, to..

“Father Miller?” His thoughts are cut off by your melodic voice drifting through the air. “What exactly are we looking for?”

He chuckles, slowly approaching the table. “Sweetheart, it’s not Sunday, and we’re not in a sermon. Please, call me Joel. Let’s drop the formalities for now.” He smiles, looking down at you, and then, his hand is on your lower back. Hardly an inch above your ass. “Just some decorations. Some banners, the candles, my white robe should be in here somewhere.”

You gasp, the feeling foreign and leaving a strange feeling in your loins. You look up from the boxes of discarded mess, eyes meeting his. “Father Miller..” You start, but he glares at you, eyebrows raised. You squint your eyes shut and scrunch your face up, mentally cursing at yourself for not using the name he’d asked you to use. “I mean, Joel..” You clear your throat. “Why would your robe be in here? Surely it should be at your house, or somewhere safe atleast?” Your eyes slowly open, meeting his again.

He looks at his hand, gliding it up and down your back slowly, as though he was comforting you. “Well, William – Sorry, Father Rafferty left it in here for me. Just haven’t had chance to come rootin’ through the boxes.” He hums, a low tune, a soft one. “So, Sweetheart, tell me.. have you ever sinned?”

The abrupt question makes you freeze up, frown at the thought and straighten up slightly, eyebrows furrowed. “What sort of a question is that?” You ask. “Of course not. Well… I don’t think I have.” You say, wracking your brain for an answer. It’s normal for him to ask these sorts of questions, right? He’s just looking out for you. To make sure you’re on the right path, that you’re pure and holy. You’ve never even looked at another man in a sinful way, let alone kiss one. Sure, you might think the odd boy is cute, and maybe you’ve looked at Father Miller – Joel in a different way, and that’s made you feel sinful. You have to admit though, his scruffy salt and pepper beard, dark eyes and calloused hands are no match for any of the local boys. Joel was beautiful. Handsome, even. But he was thirty years your junior, and the priest. It’d ruin his career and his relationship with God, yours too. You couldn’t do it to yourself.

“You’ve never kissed a boy?” He asks, curiosity peaking. You knew kissing wasn’t a sin, but it’s not like you needed to worry about it. You shake your head, saying nothing. “Would you like to kiss one?” He asks, his body suddenly moving to engulf yours, his crotch right against your ass as he wraps his arms around your waist. You shudder at the movement, his breath hot against your ear.

“Father, I’m not sure this is right.” The formalities are back, you’re unsure, nervous and confused. Never once has he acted this way towards you, so flirtatious and curious. And yet you find yourself wanting more. A burning forming deep inside of you.

“Joel.” He corrects. “And it’s alright, darling. Won’t do nothing you don’t want me to do.” He grabs your hips and turns you around in his arms so you’re facing him. He places his index finger under your chin, lifting your head up to look at him, his eyes piercing yours.

You swallow thickly, eyes scanning his features. His scruffy beard is stark in contrast to his combed-back hair. The weathering on is face is showing, proving his age, showing how wise he is. He’s gorgeous, for an older man. You never would’ve assumed he was in his fifties, had he not told you. You bite your lip, weighing out the pros and cons in your mind of potentially giving your first kiss to this man.

“Just tell me what you want, Darlin’.” He speaks, “it’s not a sin. Well, it’s definitely not a sin if you kiss me. We won’t be doing anything wrong.” He urges, watching intently as your tongue pokes out and swipes against your lower lip. You nod, if anyone should know about sin it’s him. If anyone should know what’s right or wrong, it’s him.

He doesn’t waste a second, closing the space between the pair of you, his lips pressing against yours. They’re plump and warm against yours, and you’re not sure what to do. You try to copy his movements, lips moving when his do. It’s hard and confusing at first, but you manage to get the hang of it slowly. It’s innocent at first. Soft, sweet and oh, so innocent. But the more he presses against you, the more your back presses against you solid oak table. The sharp edge digging into your back, the pain making you gasp. Joel takes this opportunity to slide his tongue between your lips. A wet, warm foreign feeling in your mouth.

It’s a long kiss, deep and hungry. His tongue prodding and attacking your mouth every so often, and you could swear you feel something warm and tingly in your lower stomach. You’re stood awkwardly, hands by your sides with absolutely no sense of direction, that is until Joel takes your hands and places them around his neck. You allow it, and as you settle in, his hands find their place on your waist, calloused fingers digging through your cotton dress.

You wince as he nips your bottom lip with his teeth, and you pull away, a string of saliva still connecting the two of you. His eyes dark with a newfound fire in them, and something you can’t quite put your finger on.

“Fuck angel, you taste so good.” Joel whispers, his hand coming up and brushing through your hair as he takes your form in. Slightly plumped lips, red and glossy from your shared saliva, eyes wide and still in shock from the moments. “I can’t get enough of you.”

He leans in again, and even though you expect for him to kiss you again, his lips find a new place – on your neck. His beard tickles the sensitive skin, his lips trailing down your neck to your collarbone, which only just peaks out of your modest dress. Your breath catches in your throat, the fire in your stomach growing strangely stronger, more apparent. You sigh out as he plants a wet kiss against your collarbone, his tongue gliding from your collarbone up to your earlobe.

“Such a good girl.” He murmurs in your ear, his fists grabbing your dress and starting to pull it up. You gasp, placing your hand on top of his to stop him, shaking your head.

“No.” You state. “That’s a sin, I can’t go any further, Father. It’s not right.” You tussle in his grip. “I’m waiting until marriage like I should, like God said I should.”

“Oh, sweet girl.” He purrs, slowly shaking your hand off his. “It’s not a sin if you do it with me. It doesn’t count.” He lies, tugging your dress up so it’s just above your waist. He slips his free hand into the waistband of your panties, hissing as his fingers are met with your arousal. “Oh, baby.” He purrs, his finger skilfully prodding your clit. You whine in his arms. “You’re so wet, so desperate.” Wet? That’s what it is? You’re aroused? By this? That strange, unfamiliar feeling in your gut was caused by him?

His fingers swipe your clit, moving at different angles until your face twisted in pleasure and your mouth drops open. A strangled moan comes from the back of your throat, a noise you didn’t even know you could make. A noise you shouldn’t make, but you can’t help it. You can’t stop the chorus of moans falling from your lips, and to Joel it sounds just like a hymn sung in church. So beautiful and melodic to his ears. He loves it.

His index finger trails down, making you frown at the loss of pleasure, prodding your tight hole. You gasp, immediately itching to get out of his grip again. His grip only tightens, and he pulls his hand out of your panties. He looks at the wetness on his hand in the dim light, admiring the shine and your embarrassed face. “Nothing to be embarrassed about, Sweetheart.” He winks before popping his fingers in his mouth and sucking your juices clean off them. You at him in both shock and awe as he reaches behind you and clears the table off, boxes falling on the floor with decorations scattering around the room.

He lifts you up, your dress still hiked around your waist as he places you on the table, stepping between your thighs. “You gon’ show me all of you, pretty girl?” He asks, caressing your face with the same hand he just sucked clean. You felt sick to your stomach, but at the same time, you yearned for more.

“Forgive me, Father..” You mutter quietly to the man himself upstairs, as you nod your head and lift your arms up. Joel takes complete advantage of this, removing your dress and discarding it on the dirty floor. You know it’ll be dirty and possibly ruined when you retrieve it after, but you’re sure you’ll make something up to appease your parents.

He whistles lowly at the sight of you in your underwear, and since he asked if you would show him all of you, he doesn’t ask if he can unclasp your bra, he just does it, hardly giving you time to react. The cool air immediately makes your nipples harden, stiff peaks standing to attention, desperate to be touched. To be manhandled and played with. He discards your bra ontop of your dress, his hands coming back and cupping your boobs.

You bite your lip at the new sensation as he fondles them “Do you trust me?” He asks, what a stupid question – of course you do. You nod, and he removes his hands from your breasts, his fingers sliding into the waistband of your panties. You lift yourself off the table slightly, after a glare of expectance from Joel, and he pries your soaking wet panties from your body, the soft pink colour now darker where wet.

“Oh, Darlin’.” He groans as he fingers the damp patch, and your cheeks grow hot again. “I’ve hardly even touched you. Hardly even shown you what a good time I can give ya.” He grins, a devilish grin, as he stuffs your soiled panties into his back pocket.

You shiver in anticipation, any worries of sinning or ruining yourself for marriage being long gone. After all, Father Joel Miller said it was okay, and that it wasn’t a sin asking as you did it with him, and he wouldn’t lie to you, right?

He kneels down in between your legs, groaning as his knees click, a sign of his old age. It should snap you out of this, remind you this isn’t who you are, but it does the opposite. Makes you yearn for him, crave him. He grabs your thighs and thrusts you closer to him so your ass is just barely on the table. With one arm wrapped around your waist, he uses his free hand to gently spread your lips, your pussy shining with arousal in the dim light. Glistening, calling for him, he exhales shakily. “Gotta stay still for me, Baby, okay?”

He dives forward, your soaking cunt spread open for him still, and he places a gentle, chaste kiss on your clit. A simple movement that has you jolting, and him chuckling at your reaction. A low, monotone tune.

“God girl, you’re a nasty little thing, huh?” He doesn’t even give you time to answer before he licks a straight line from your tight hole up to your clit. Your moans have his cock rock hard, painfully stretching against his pants. If he doesn’t get to fuck you, he’ll definitely masturbate to the thought of your moans, the way your cheeks were red and eyes glossed over.

He repeats it a couple of more times, licking stripes up your pussy, purely doing it to wind you up and tease you further, as if you weren’t already a soaking mess for him. He takes pity on you and your whines, leaning forward and wrapping his plump lips around your clit, ravenously devouring your pussy as though he hadn’t eaten for days.

It’s pleasure unlike anything you’ve felt before. So intoxicating and mind numbing, you could live on this feeling. Your hands grip the edge of the table, knuckles turning white as you moan, your hips subconsciously rocking and grinding into his mouth. “Joel.” You groan, and he only hums in response, noisily lapping up your leaking juices.

He brings his hand down, the one that was spreading your lips, and gently prods his middle finger against your tight hole. He gently pushes it in, despite your slight squirming and whines, holding it still to allow your pussy to get used to this new feeling, to this intruder. Then, he’s slowly thrusting his finger into you, all the while he’s completely devouring your pussy.

The feeling burns slightly, but is quick to wear off as it soon turns to pleasure, his finger hitting a certain spot that makes you see stars, that makes you unaware of how loud you are, how pitiful you sound. You don’t even realise he’s brought his second finger into the mix until the burn returns and you feel yourself being stretched out further.

You cry out, your hand shooting to his wrist. “Stop.” You command, voice wavering. “Too full.” He pulls his head away, chuckling lowly at the command.

“Too full?” He asks, “How do you expect me to fit my cock in your pretty pussy if you won’t even let me put my second finger in?” He raises an eyebrow. “I thought you were my good girl, are you not? Look at how wet you are, how well you’re taking my fingers.” He gently pushes his fingers in further as he speaks. You look down, the sight simply sinful. Your tight pussy engulfing his large calloused fingers, your juices all over his fingers and knuckles.

“Slowly.” You demand, gently releasing his wrist, and thankfully, he does. He pushes his fingers in, and you’re full. Fuller than you were before, and you didn’t even know that was possible. To feel so filled up and yet.. good? It’s slow, the way his fingers thrust in and out of you, inching deeper every time. It’s progress when the burning subsides, and you nod at Joel.

“Better.” You confirm, and he doesn’t need to ask twice.

His fingers slowly pick up the pace, his tongue attacking your clit again, your hips grinding against him, desperate for more friction, and you don’t even realise you’re doing it.

The burning in your lower abdomen grows stronger, more apparent. Like you’re building up to something momentum, something life changing. “Joel.” You moan. “Fuck, oh God.” You curse, not caring for the moment who hears you curse, or use Gods name in vain. You’ll pray later.

He pulls his lips away from you, smirking up at you. “Gonna cum, baby?” He asks, but you’re unsure. “Let go, Sweet girl. Show me how you cum all over my fingers. Show me how bad you can do.”

Your mouth drops open as his fingers hit that special spot, eyes seemingly rolling into the back of your head as it washes over you. The best thing you’ve felt in your life, crashing over you again and again. You see white flashes, and you feel like you’re on cloud nine. You don’t even realise that you’ve grabbed Joel’s wrist again to keep him in place, your hips rocking back and forth on his fingers.

You’re sweaty, beads of sweat have fallen down your chest, your thighs, and when you come to, you feel filthy, sinful, wrong. Like you’ve just had a piece of you taken. You look down, mouth dropping open as you gently release him from your ironclad grip. “I’m so sorry.” You blubber.

He pulls his fingers out of you, grinning wide at his accomplishment. “Look at that..” He pops his fingers in his mouth, sucking them dry. “Not so innocent, huh? You naughty girl. I heard you curse Gods name.”

“Please don’t mention that to anyone. It was wrong of me. I’m sorry, that shouldn’t of happened.” You plead, the thought of what the community may do to you scares you. You’ve seen what lengths they go to in order to shun someone. “I’ll do anything, just don’t tell them.”

He smirks. “Well, you could do one of two things. You could get on your knees at home and pray to God that he’ll forgive you, although there’s a very low chance of that happening, you sinful little minx.” He chuckles at your sorrowful face. “Or, you can turn around, bend over and let me fuck the sin out of you. I’m sure he’ll forgive you if every drop of sin has been eradicated from your body. Your choice.” He stands, groaning softly as his knees crack again, that reminder of his age causing your pussy to pulse in arousal.

You sigh, wordlessly standing up on wobbly legs. You turn around, gently laying your sweaty body against the table. Your stomach covered in the wetness you’d left behind, the rest of your body being welcomed by the coolness of the wood. “I want him to forgive me.” You squeak.

A feeling of pride in his chest, he smiles. You hear the sound of his belt unbuckling, and then the rustle of his pants as he pulls his cock from out of his boxers. He holds his hand out infront of you. “Spit.”

You gather all the spit in your mouth, spitting it into the palm of his hand. You wonder what he’s going to use your saliva for. “This isn’t going to hurt more than your fingers, is it?” You can hear him stroking himself with your spit, a wet, sloppy sound. You can’t help but wonder what his cock looks like. Is it big? Is it thick? Is it tanned like his sunglowed skin?

“Different for everyone, Angel. Shouldn’t hurt for long if it does.” He says, his free hand adjusting your form slightly. He stands behind you, getting himself into position. “The fact you just came should make it so much easier, and less painful.” He gently pushes the tip of his cock into your tight hole, hissing.

You cry out, the burning sensation stronger than ever as you feel yourself being stretched out around his thick cock. Tears prick your eyes. It’s unpleasant, you feel like you’re being ripped into two, like his cock is going to break you. “Too big.” You cry out again.

He tuts. “You said that about my fingers.” He rolls his eyes. “Too big.” He mocks in a slightly girlish tone. This isn’t the Miller you know. This is someone entirely different. His whole demeanour has changed in a matter of seconds, from the second you bent over for him, he’s far more dominant. “We got my fingers in, didn’t we? Just breathe.” He reaches his freehand down, rubbing your clit in small circles to get you to ease up.

You do as he says, taking deep breaths in through your nose as he continues to stretch your tight hole out around him. It takes what seems like forever before he finally bottoms out, and you hear him sigh. He stays still for a moment, allowing you to adjust before starting to slowly thrust into you.

The burn takes a while to ease off, but when it does and you finally get to embrace the feeling of being truly full up, you’re in shock. You thought two fingers was full, you were wrong.

“This pussy is so fucking tight.” He grunts, his hips slapping against yours as his pace speeds up. “Should’ve fucked you sooner, Pretty girl.” You moan in response, table creaking as he fucks you against it.

“Deeper.” You blurt out. Your body and mouth no longer felt like it belonged to you, it belonged to your lust. Your desperation to cum all over his cock again.

He obliges. “So fucking needy.” He scoffs, but smirks as your moans turn into callings of his name and strings of curses, the tip of his cock nudging that oh so sweet spot you’ve learnt to appreciate in what feels like seconds.

The sounds of skin slapping, moans from you and grunts from him echo around the room, bouncing off the walls and right into your ears, reminding you how your innocence is gone, how you’re no longer pure. How sinful you’ve become, something you’ve lived your entire life avoiding. Something you were taught to never even think about happening, something you were taught to shun others for. And now look at you, what a hypocrite. Bent over a table, being fucked by a man, who despite being very attractive, is decades older than you.

That same feeling is forming in your stomach as he fucks you harder, faster, deeper than before. He’s chasing after his own orgasm too, he can’t help but crumble when it comes to you. You’re just too perfect, and your pussy is his own personal brand of heroin.

It comes abruptly, without any warning, attacks you and your senses. You’re blinded by stars, head dizzy and body feeling heavy.

He gasps, grunting loudly. “Oh, you dirty girl.” He moans, his thrusts becoming sloppy and shallow. Your pussy strangles his cock as you pulsate around it, and it pushes him over the edge.

You can feel him spilling his hot cum inside of you, his cock pulsating in response to your pussy pulsating around him. He collapses on you for a minute, his clothed chest against your naked, sweaty back. You stay like this for a while until you clear your throat and he gets up, his dick now soft as it slips out of you, a mixture of your juices trickling down your legs.

He steps back to admire the view. Your ruined pussy, pumped full of his cum, pulsating around nothing. He hums as he tucks himself back into his pants, tutting at the small wet patch near his zipper. “Messy girl.” He mutters.

You gently push yourself up, grimacing at the feeling of the mixture of your juices trickling down your soft, shaky thighs. You bend over slowly, picking your discarded bra up from the floor and putting it back on. “Can I have my underwear back?”

He shakes his head. “They’re mine now, Angel.” He gives you a cheeky grin. You groan and point down to the mess trickling down your legs, and his response to that is to give you an old rag from one of the boxes.

You clean yourself up the best you can with the resources you’re given, but it’s not enough. He’s pumped you full of his cum and it’s still trickling out. You just decide you’re going to have to pray for the best. You pick up your once pristine white dress, now crumpled and dirty from the floor. You pour, seeing as it was picture perfect only this morning. You sigh, placing it over your head.

“Now, come on. We’ve got a church to decorate.” He winks at you, grabbing a box of decorations and walking out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and feelings.

————————————————————————

Tags: @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

A/N: sorry but i think it’s absolutely ironic that I’m posting this on the day i’m actually going to church (christening).

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fan-goddess · 7 months

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I AM HERE!!!!! ugh that kinktober list made me so feral bestie, I cannot WAIT to see what masterpieces you come up with!

I would like to send my own request in (if that’s okay) 😌 you already know >>>> Aegon ii x fem!reader with the sex pollen AU (and maybe even the breeding kink + public sex) I wasn’t sure if I could request other kinks from the list, if you only want to focus on the one tho just the sex pollen please 🥹

ilysm 💋💋💋💋

- @lovelykhaleesiii xoxoxo

Authors Note: Hi bestie! Yeah you could request more than one I’m glad to take on the challenge!!! I’ll definitely enjoy encorporating them all!

Warnings: P in v sex, breeding kink, aphrodisiac, public sex, dirty talk, infertility is mentioned in for form of Aegon joking without any thinking, (if I miss any let me know),

Taglist: @humanpurposes, @lovelykhaleesiii, @valeskafics, @sofiyathecunt, @marvelgirl123, @sylasthegrim, @mochi-rose, @watercolorskyy, @amiraisgoingthruit , @f4ll-for-you

Your husband Aegon ii Targaryen, the eldest prince of the realm, whilst you loved him deeply yes was easily the most insufferable man you had ever met.

After the insistence of him for you to join him on one of his escapades to fleabottom, and the bribery of him getting something nice for you from one of the many stalls you two liked to visit, to your dismay you found yourself following him blindly and trusting him fully.

A mistake you’ll soon find that out to be…

“Come on my love! The stall I saw yesterday should be right around here…” He says, dragging you along with his hand gripping firmly on your wrist whilst you shake your own head in amusement. “AHA! Here it is! What do you think my love?”

Even you had to admit that this certainly made up for Aegons recent behaviour. The stall held an arrangement of flowers, varying in all shapes, colours and sizes. From where you were standing it looked as if it could barely contain its own stock. Which surprised you considering the almost exotic looking beauty of it all. Though you suppose in fleabottom, not many could afford such beauty.

“So? Which would you like to take home to display my love?” Aegon spoke as he rubbed a thumb on you wrist, effectively bringing you from your thoughts.

“I have no idea nuha zaldrīzes,” You sigh as your eyes dart across the stall. “There’s so many beautiful options I fear I may stay here all day deciding…”

“If I may princess!” A voice all of a sudden brings your attention and when you turn to it, you immediately lock eyes with a beautiful woman. “I may have an idea for the type of flower you both may need. If that is you are willing to allow me to choose for you?”

“Oh please do my lady otherwise as I said earlier, I’ll end up losing my mind choosing!”

“Very well! This my dear, is a flower from my very own home land. I think it would look marvellous in comparison to other flowers, and it would surely start a conversation in one of your lady groups?”

You didn’t dare deny the woman and say she was wrong, as it really was a thing of beauty. The petals were that of a soft purple and it deepened as it got closer to the edge.

When you tilted your head closer to it to sniff at it, you were surprised to feel a strange sort of breeze hit you when you adjust the petal to look closer, yet the thought quickly drifted away as the unique scent hits you.

It smelt like the salt of your skin after you made love to Aegon, mixed with the smell of your favourite fresh strawberries…

“Aegon my love, smell this please.” You beg. When you push the flower closer for him to smell, and he takes a small sniff, you can see his eyes widen slightly and look at the flower in confusion. If the moment wasn’t as confusing as it was to you, you probably would’ve laughed at his face.

Still, after you successfully purchase the flower for some silver coins, and begin the journey home, the sudden tightening grip of Aegons fingers on your wrist brings you from your thoughts.

“Aegon what is it?” You ask. It’s a surprise to the both of you on how breathless you sound. Yet it’s quickly pushed down to make room for the sudden feeling of arousal that enters your system, and the sudden shock you feel when Aegon pushes you into a vacant alleyway.

“A-Aegon what are you doing?!” You shout as he pushes so close to you, he’s effectively trapping you between himself and the wall. You hate to admit it, but as surprised as you are by the sudden turn of events, the ache you feel between your legs seems to take first place in regards to attention.

“You smell so fucking good…” He groans, almost animalistic in his words and his actions to reveal your somehow already sweat covered skin to him.

You should’ve been horrified by his sudden onslaught of lust. You should’ve been acting like a respected wife and begun pushing him off you and insisting this sort of behaviour should happen only in the privacy of yours and his’ chambers. Yet that all seems to wash away as you find yourself gushing more into the soaked fabric of your underclothes the more revealing you become.

All you could think about in that moment though was Aegon fucking you into oblivion, and by the looks of his eyes as they dilate to a deep purple, it was all Aegon could think about too.

“Gonna be my good little wife yes? My good little breeding whore?”

“Yes husband yes!” You whine as Aegon wastes no time in pushing his trousers down enough before sliding your damp underclothes to the side, and pushing his cock as deep as he could inside of you as you wrap your legs round his waist.

Preparation was always usually needed before Aegon fucked you, due to his larger than average size. Yet as he’s currently fucking you into oblivion, impaling you over and over again with his cock as your visible skin is roughly dragged against the wall, the dull ache from him only seemed to heighten your pleasure.

“Oh shit” You whine. Somehow, your orgasm is already steadily approaching quick and fast as Aegons cock bullies your sweet spot already.

Maybe it’s the sudden feeling of Aegon pinching your clit, or maybe it’s the sudden pain you feel of something digging into your bare shoulder? But all you know is that all of a sudden your cunt is clenching down tightly on Aegons cock, milking his cock for what all he has as you cum loudly around him.

It’s a filthy thing, you think, as you feel the conjoined liquids of yours and Aegons dripping slightly down the skin of your thigh. But it’s an even filthier thing to realise that Aegon is still somehow hard inside of you, and that your still feeling aroused than ever.

“Ready for another round dear wife? Who knows… maybe this’ll be where we finally conceive our heir… in a filthy street around the corner from the brothels.” Aegon teases as he nips the skin of your bare shoulder between his teeth, leaving small indents there to distract you whilst he thrusts slowly into your dripping heat over again with a light groan.

“Please Aegon, don’t tease me! I need more!” A wanton sound is released from your mouth as all you can think about it what Aegon said. Maybe you would become pregnant from this. In some dreary common place alley where anyone could walk past and see the both of you… it sends a thrill up your spine like no other.

“Fine! If my wife wishes to be bred like a common woman, then she’ll be bred like some common woman, with my seed dripping down her thighs!”

You don’t know how it happens, but the next thing you know Aegon is using all his energy to keep you pushed against the wall as he thrusts himself as deep as he can inside of you. Maybe it was just in the moment, but you swore you could feel Aegon practically entering your womb at that moment.

Yet the idea of the pain excites you, frightens you even at this sudden rush of arousal hits you.

It also frightens you how you and Aegons sudden thirst for each others bodies are not quenched even after that second round against the wall. Not even a third round satisfies the two you.

The first time Aegons cock finally softens inside of you, is after the fifth round of fucking.

It’s so satisfactory to feel as a whole, yet when the tender aftercare moment is over, the fatigue hits the two of you like a heavy stone over the head.

“What the fuck just happened…” You exclaim as you giggle into the depth of Aegons shoulder.

“I don’t know… but I’m not exactly complaining right now dear wife. Also, I wasn’t lying earlier.”

“Hmm? Lying about what?” You murmur halfheartedly as you attempt to make yourself look presentable as you could. The skin of your back feels raw from the rough friction of the wall, and your legs feel like they’re about to buckle under the stress.

“I wasn’t lying about conceiving our child in this alleyway. Though after that excellent yet unexplainable performance my love, I don’t think we’ll have issue with it. If we did, then one of us has to be barren I swear on the seven!” Aegons swears as he buckles up his trousers and pushes his hair back before moving to help you look presentable.

Much to your amusement though, Aegons hair didn’t look any different to how it looked before the lust took over your systems.

As you begin to giggle from what may or may not be drowsiness, your eyes look over to the discarded flower Aegon bought you that had fallen to the floor seemingly in the hassle. It’s petals still held that soft purple hue, yet the inner pistil seems to have engorged slightly as they spill from the inner part.

Much to your inner amusement though, the sight of two common rats seemingly fucking makes you realise just exactly what brought on this sudden onslaught of lust. Who knows, maybe you’ll visit the lady again sometime soon for some more flowers…

#house of the dragon #aegon ii targaryen #hotd aegon #aegon targaryen imagine #aegon targaryen one shot #aegon smut #my k!nktober #aegon ii #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen smut #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen ii #aegon ii fic #aegon targaryen x y/n #aegon the elder #my works

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meyousing · 1 year

Text

ℂ𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕠, ℂ𝕒𝕝𝕞 𝕒𝕟𝕕 ℂ𝕒𝕝𝕔𝕦𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕

𝕣𝕖𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥: “i’ve tried to be tolerant, but your disobedience has reached a limit i cannot ignore.”

𝕤𝕪𝕟𝕠𝕡𝕤𝕚𝕤: as the love of your life and possibly even your soulmate, you were bewildered and disappointed to find out that chrollo would take the troupe’s word over yours.

𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖𝕤: yandere chrollo x reader, manipulation and gaslighting, power imbalance, not necessarily a soulmate au just using the word for emphasis :) also uvo makes a dramatic appearance ONCE AGAIN… is this a sign that i should write something for him ??

Chrollo really is the love of your life. There is nothing that he wouldn’t do for you, no task too large, no matter at all what he would have to do to make it happen. It was only natural for him to keep an eye on your every move, an ear on your every word, to ensure you were being good. As dedicated and thieving as he was, he couldn’t just do everything for you while you rebelled and went against his wishes, where is the fairness in that?

You, blissfully ignorant on the other hand, were enjoying your time with Chrollo and his troupe immensely. He had done so much for you, spoiled you, and treated you like a princess, both before and after telling you the truth about his lifestyle. Not to mention that the troupe treated you like gold personified, and it didn’t even feel like favouritism just because you were the “Boss’ Girl.”

Machi had brought you stolen gifts before, like jewellery and expensive clothes because she thought you would like them. Of course, her ideas about what to pick had developed by watching and observing what Chrollo would bring you, though she would never admit that, simply replying that she only had a hunch you’d enjoy them.

The boys of the troupe (usually Phinks and Uvogin, but the others always backed them up with agreement) would ask about people from your time before meeting Chrollo, and if there was anyone who they would need to teach a lesson to. You would only ever laugh, thanking them for the offer of protection but telling them that nobody had ever wronged you enough to warrant that. Insisting that the offer still stands, they would leave the topic but never fail to keep bringing it up as the days went on.

You were very happy with your new life. Chrollo was a bit neurotic on the day that he decided to let the cat out of the bag, sporting a brand new look you had never seen in your time with him, explaining that you would be living differently now, you would travel with him and be by his side all the time, where you could have anything you ever wanted. Truthfully, the idea of spending the rest of your time beside him was already a lone factor to seal the deal, and he already spoiled you so much that you couldn’t expect anything to feel very different, with this just being a version of your relationship where you wouldn’t stay in one place.

The spoiling part was not ever what excited you though, it was simply Chrollo’s show of care and attention to detail that had you falling head over heels. Nobody else had ever spent so much time and given so much devotion to ensuring your happiness, finding items catered to your tastes and interests. His choosing to go the material route was in his nature, you personally never cared much for the finer or more expensive things in life, though after discovering Chrollo’s true nature it made much more sense to you now. Who were you to not indulge the interest of your beloved? You may have been happy, but it was a shame that the feeling was not mutual.

It was very early in the morning, earlier than what your new routine had you used to. You must have been jet-lagged, considering you had only been in your current location for a little over a day. Seated beside Shizuku, you watched and waited as she shuffled a set of cards, readying them to be passed out for you and a few of the others to play some rounds of Go Fish. With it being so early, you had awoken before Chrollo and decided to wander around the halls of your headquarters, to see who, if anyone else, was awake as well. You found yourself in what everyone decided was the main room, spotting Shizuku, Phinks, and Shalnark as they sat closely, cards already in hand. It was Shalnark who instantly spotted you peeking around the corner, asking if you would like to join them, saying that their game had barely started and they wouldn’t mind shuffling one more time. You gladly accepted, figuring a game or two couldn’t hurt as you waited for Chrollo to wake up.

You shifted your eyes between all three of them, watching over their varying expressions and trying not to giggle at Phinks’ visible show of boredom when picking up his cards. You knew that as much as he enjoyed spending time with everyone, his own interests were certainly directed towards more upbeat scenarios than ones like this, he must have been just as eager as you for Chrollo’s arrival.

“Is Boss up too?” he asked suddenly, tearing you from the small daydream you’d mustered up with a glance in your direction and verbal, indirect confirmation of your thoughts. You shook your head.

“We were talking about how jet-lagged we felt last night, he’ll probably be out for a few more hours.” you shrugged then, frowning down at the cards in your hand as you noticed just how fatigued your eyes felt.

“Guess it had the opposite effect on you then, eh?” he chuckled. You smiled with a chuckle of your own and nodded, not feeling too talkative as your tiredness started setting in now that you had acknowledged it.

“Are you guys ready?” Shizuku asked, scanning over each of you. Assorted nods were given, with an upbeat “yup!” of agreement coming from Shalnark. One more voice came in a moment later.

“Not quite, I’ll have to borrow Y/N for a moment.”

Everyone looked up, mutual surprise adorning your faces as Chrollo stood in the doorway with hands concealed in his coat pockets. You noted how he looked ready for the day, fully dressed with his hair styled as if it hadn’t taken long at all, as if you hadn’t only been in this room for maybe ten minutes.

“Coming” you murmured, smiling apologetically at the others before getting up to rejoin Chrollo. He began walking when you met his side, a hand finding your waist as he guided you back to your bedroom. You hadn’t looked at his face for too long since his appearance, and despite being a quieter man you felt that he was being uncharacteristically quiet now. Even the way he opened the bedroom door and gestured to you to go in first, face nearly blank once you looked up, despite the chivalrous act. He didn’t even respond to your thanks, the only form of a reply being his gentle slam of the door as you shuffled over to the bed and sat at the end. He joined you shortly, gazing at you with heavy lids that you couldn’t quite discern. Was he feeling…lustful? Or perhaps he was disappointed, maybe you had done something wrong? But what could you have done?

“Y/N, I’ve tried to be tolerant, but your disobedience has reached a limit I cannot ignore.”

Okay, it was the latter. You blinked in confusion, his words not reaching your brain in what should have been the right way (was there a right way? what did you do?) as you were sure that simply waking up and spending time with his troupe was not disobedient. If anything that should have made him happy!

“What did I do?” you asked, concern lacing your features as you hugged your knees to your chest, self-soothing since the look in Chrollo’s eyes was starting to unnerve you. He blinked slowly, his breath deepening as he began to sigh and his hands met.

“I heard you laughing back there. What was so funny?” His voice was relaxed.

“Nothing?” you frowned, unsure of what exactly he was talking about. Your tone itself was questioning, dripping with confusion, yet it was misinterpreted by Chrollo, likely as some kind of snark when you saw his expression fall further. He held off on speaking for a moment, instead taking his time as he held your hands and moved to face you completely. You couldn’t help but mirror him by squeezing his hands gently and letting your legs fall back down, his affectionate actions combined with such borderline accusatory words only muddled your mind.

“I understand that you may feel lonely when I join the troupe for the jobs that I assign them to. Do you think that gives you the right to try flirting with the other men while I’m away? Have you tried to seduce them into this very room?”

Your brows furrowed deeply.

“What gave you that idea?”

“You didn’t think that they wouldn’t tell me, did you?”

“Who?!” You clutched his hands a little tighter, completely bewildered not only by his claims but also by the idea of someone feeding these lies to him. Why would he take their word over yours anyway? Yes, this troupe has been with him since the beginning, but you had never deceived him before. You had no reason to start now. Perhaps you would have to voice this to him, considering his intensity had not let up yet.

“That doesn’t matter. What matters more is your indiscretions, and the painful thought that you assumed you could get away with them, right under my nose.”

Yes, this confirmed that you would have to voice your thoughts to him.

“But it’s not true! I’ve never deceived you before, why would I start now?”

“Do you think my own troupe would deceive me, then?” He sat stiff and his eyes widened impossibly so, boring into you with such a suddenly dark aura, it made you feel like you were shrinking beneath him.

“N-no, of course not” you nearly whispered, heartbeat speeding up when you realized your mistake, an eager urge taking over you to fix whatever mess you could have just gotten yourself into with a single, not so well thought out sentence. Caressing his wrist with your thumb, pressing your thigh to his, daringly reaching your other palm up to his face so you could press it into his cheek. Anything you could do to alleviate the sudden anxiety that you were feeling at the idea of being forced out of Chrollo’s good graces for something you never did. “I just want you to believe me, I would never–”

“Hey boss, I was–oh… you in the middle of something?” The door swung open unceremoniously to reveal Uvogin, whose expression went from casual to awkward. Tears rimmed your eyes at the sight, that feeling becoming mutual at the exposure of your current emotions and situation.

On any other day, you were certain that Chrollo would be unhappy that a troupe member barged into his room without knocking, let alone permission.

“We were just finishing up.” Chrollo stood then, exerting minimal effort to tear himself away from you completely and stand just a few feet away. You couldn’t help but keep your hands on him for as long as you could until he was entirely out of arm's reach, your cheeks burning in your own embarrassment when your limbs fell back into your lap with a thump. He faced you, keeping his back to Uvo and giving you the most gut-wrenchingly sweet grin. “Y/N will be staying in this room for a little while until she remembers the rules of our relationship. It’s upsetting that she forgot at all, perhaps this new schedule will clear her mind of such impurity.” Swivelling around on his heel, his back was to you now as he walked to the door.

Y/N will be staying in this room? He couldn’t be serious! You couldn’t find your voice, couldn’t think of any words to say, all you were able to do was shoot up from your spot and stay in place. You knew that trying to walk to the door would prove useless, as your anxiety had reached its peak and your entire body became numb, feeling like you were outside of it.

“Oh, shame. Hey, it’s for the best though.” Uvo patted Chrollo’s back, squeezing it and beginning to walk away with him, his other hand reaching back for the doorknob. Please, no!

With the rest of your body frozen, you could only move your eyes which were trained intensely on Chrollo, noting how as he walked out his face looked different from the way it was mere moments ago. He looked neutral and much less sarcastic, if not more on the side of smugness as a soft grin began upturning his lips.

The door slammed shut, made especially loud thanks to Uvo being the one to close it. The sound solidified the fact that Chrollo was leaving you, with an apparent visit inbound, but when? Collapsing back onto the mattress when your legs finally gave out from beneath you, you stared blankly at the ceiling. How could Chrollo have gone from so hopelessly romantic to disbelieving within mere moments? Everything had been just fine… yet a one-sided conversation was enough for him to make such a drastic decision. Your welcoming to Chrollo’s criminal lifestyle was done with ease, you had no problem turning a blind eye to your own morals because you fell in love with him, he was the love of your life. Perhaps what you truly fell in love with was not Chrollo, but a version of himself. One that was limited and crafted perfectly to your likes, wants to make you easier to control. Had you fallen for such a scheme so easily?

Overthinking proved to be good in only one way, it made you even drowsier than you already had been, so at the very least you could sleep some time away as you waited for your beloved to come back to you.

–

“I mean…you knew I wasn’t serious, right?” Uvo scratched at the back of his neck, his forehead wrinkling as he feared the worst, that he accidentally meddled in the Boss’ business, the Boss’ relationship, just for the sake of getting a few laughs.

“Of course” Chrollo chuckled, patting Uvo’s back reassuringly. “But your timing was rather convenient, she was starting to get a little too comfortable with getting her way. Best to remind her who’s in charge, you were simply the catalyst to allow me to do so.”

#✧meyou #✧musinghxhmasterlist #chrollo #yandere chrollo #chrollo x reader #chrollo lucilfer x reader #chrollo lucilfer #phantom troupe #hxh #hxh x reader #hunter x hunter #hxh chrollo #hunter x hunter x reader #chrollo x y/n #chrollo x you

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jjkeverlast · 7 months

Note

ooooo okay regarding to the race car driver tae or rockstar tae what if oc was like model or something and they have some kind of a situationship going and they’re just tired of waiting around for tae but he reassures them that they are the only one

i think i said race car driver or rockstar boyfriend tae but i feel like a situationship is a bit more interesting. but you choose whichever trope you want it’s okay!

thanks again :)

race to your heart | kth

>> pairing race car driver!tae x model!reader

>> genre/au's club!au | situationship | humor | maybe a bit of angst?

>> summary shouting your feelings about kim taehyung to your best friend doesn’t exactly go as planned.

>> word count 722

>> warnings alcohol is mentioned! | ft. jungkookie :) | implications to smut

>> author's note hope you enjoy this lil drabble of fun!! <33 thank you for requesting :))

The dance floor is alive, floating in the middle of this club while you and Jungkook are stuck by the bar, aiming to get two drinks but the queue is unbearable.

“Can’t believe I have to wait over thirty minutes to get drunk!” Jungkook complains, smacking himself lightly on the forehead.

“This is all your fault. I suggested we pre-party at my place, but you insisted on getting drunk here.” You roll your eyes when Jungkook pouts in apology.

“Well you’re the reason we’re here in the first place!” Jungkook exclaims, throwing both hands in the air. You scoff in offense, because he’s right. It’s because of you and your stupid feelings for the famous race car driver Kim Taehyung.

It hadn’t meant to happen, but after landing at the same afterparty three months ago, you ended up linking arms with him and tangling the sheets beneath you as he fucked you into oblivion.

The first time it happened it was easy to brush off. But then it happened again, and again and again…

Whenever either of you had some free time, you’d meet in the middle and hang out. Sure, you had sex all those times but you also cooked together, even wore Korean face masks as a cliché k-drama rolled on the TV-screen, the both of you cuddled under one blanket. The sudden shift in your ‘relationship’ caused feelings to bloom in your chest over the famous race car driver.

Jungkook was aware of your feelings and your stubborn self, already accepting it wasn’t reciprocated.

You want to get drunk immediately to forget everything about Taehyung. His smell, his body, his smile… But the bar seems to stop you from getting a wish to come true.

Which explains why you’re stuck in a long line with your best friend Jungkook, who has heard the name Kim Taehyung more often than his own.

“You know, you could just tell him you’re tired of this situationship and that you’re in love with him.” Jungkook says lowly but you manage to hear every word and you slap his chest in anger.

“Seriously?! Sure, let me just text him, ‘hey Taehyung, just wanted for you to know that I’m in love with you and I’m tired of waiting for a sign that tells me you feel the same way so—” You begin to ramble, shout even, unaware of how many have turned an eye in your direction.

“Y/N.” Jungkook says your name as a warning, but you’ve had enough.

“No! I’m serious, it’s unrequited, okay? Taehyung doesn’t love me.”

“I don’t?”

Jungkook’s eyes bulge out and you freeze in your spot.

Fuck, fuck and fuck.

You gulp down, slowly turning around. “Kim Taehyung, a pleasure to see you here!” You use a jokingly tone, swallowing down the embarrassment from your loud confession that he may or may not have heard, in a club of all places.

“You meant that? What you said earlier.” He’s keen on staying on that exact topic you’re trying to run from. Great.

“I—” Normally you’re a spectacular improviser, it’s a perk from being a runway model but fuck, you’re stuck on the spot and you blame the strong felt feelings for the man in front of you.

“If you meant what you said, then it is only right for me to say this.” Taehyung steps closer, brushing his lips on your ear before he whispers. “I’m in love with you.”

Your mouth drops at the confession, also forgetting Jungkook is standing behind you while this whole circus is happening.

“You—”

“I’ve always been.” He grabs your nape, the warm touch making your eyes close.

“Taehyung.” You grab his jaw, planting a kiss to his lips, overwhelmed by the reciprocated feelings.

It’s a club, meaning you and Taehyung kissing by the bar is more normal than if you were to do it in a restaurant.

You hear Jungkook clear his throat loudly, but you’re too busy kissing Taehyung and letting yourself feel what he feels for you.

It’s finally your turn to order, but you and Taehyung are barely done and Jungkook rolls his eyes before gaining the bartender’s attention.

“I’m going to need your strongest liquor.”

You grin against Taehyung’s mouth, ignoring your best friend's silly antics.

All ends well when you have the man of your dreams.

#bts taehyung fic #kim taehyung x reader #bts tae x reader #taehyung imagine #bts taehyung #taehyung #taehyung fluff #bts kim taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung angst #taehyung x reader #kim taehyung bts #bts v #taehyung drabble #bts drabble

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shadowynn · 1 year

Text

| in love and lore | four |

pairing: ateez x fem reader

genre: fantasy/daemon/soulmate au

warnings: some cursing, mentions of death and violence, slight suicidal thoughts, some yandere behavior

summary: the daemon king and his seven black generals. names and faces of these eight had changed over the years as each new king was crowned, but their reputation as the most powerful daemons always remained the same. upon hearing the rumors one of the seven led the charge of the nearby battle, you should have stayed close to the encampment. you should have never wandered out on your own. but you did, and your life would never be the same again. good or bad, you would just have to wait to find out.

“There’s no need to be afraid, angel.” His words were a breath against the side of your neck. “You’ve done so much for us, let your king now return the favor.”

wordcount: 6.8k

a/n: so, I may or may not be posting this part earlier than planned, but I had it done and all the love and support you guys send gives me lots of motivation to keep writing and I couldn’t wait to give you all more. it’s a bit lacking in the boys department again, but next chapter and onwards things will definitely be changing. hope you all enjoy! :)

| three | four | five |

You struggled to control the way your stomach rolled, raising a hand to your mouth to fight the wave of nausea that overtook you. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to turn away, to move, but your legs were glued to their spot and you found it impossible to tear your eyes away.

Her body had been sliced and torn in multiple places, but the cut along her stomach was what had truly done her in. With the amount of blood left pooling around her body, the likeliest cause of death was from blood loss, drawing her death out into a long and painful process. Her right hand was also coated, and though you first assumed it had been from trying to apply pressure and slow the majority of the bleeding from the stomach, the trail of blood that fell from the last letter of the message behind her to where her hand laid to rest when she died made you think otherwise. The thought of whoever had done this using her hand as a brush made you shiver, wondering if she had been forced to write the message as she slowly bled out.

The pigs will pay for their crimes.

The words repeated themselves in your mind, wondering why the phrase sounded so familiar. Your mind went to that night with Seonghwa from so long ago, wondering if it had been something he had said, before you realized it hadn't been him.

The pigs will pay for their crimes.

Pigs.

The world would be a better place without pigs like her contaminating it.

Yeosang.

It took all your self control to not throw up, another wave of nausea hitting you as the realization of what had happened hit you. The idea that it had been him, the boy who had treated you so kindly yesterday, who had done it, made you more sick than the scene before you. Because if you were right, and it was him who had done this, that meant you had a role in this woman's death too. It meant you were the reason she was now dead.

That's only if she gets around to filing it.

As your stomach rolled once more, you stumbled back a few steps, needing to get away. Panic clawed its way up your throat and you found your hands beginning to shake.

Yeosang. It had to have been him. As much as the thought made you sick, you knew it had to have been him. Everything was far too coincidental for it not to be. Though you hadn't understood at the time, he had seemed so angry by the woman's actions. An unbridled anger hidden beneath his easy smiles. The way his eyes had glittered darkly when he hinted at her never getting around to filing it, stating how he wished something would happen to her on her way home, had all but spoken the truth. She wasn't going to be making it home and he knew that. Knew that because he had fully planned on killing her before she did. The only question that remained was why. Why had he done it?

Because he wasn't the human he appeared. Because he was a daemon.

Now that you were here, it seemed so obvious. You had just been so infatuated with the way he had treated you, with the way he had looked at you, to stop for a second and think, really think, about how odd his behavior had been. The lie he had spun about being from the borders had only served to fit his narrative when his comments towards his own people had put you on edge. And if he lied about that? What else had lied about? The way the daemons would have treated you better? The way this new king was different? Or the way he had genuinely seemed to care for you? The way he had seemed to truly see you for who you were? The way he had called you beautiful?

The realization hurt you more than you cared to admit, cutting deep and adding to the pit forming in your stomach. Had anything he said been true? Or was it all a lie? Had it all just been a ruse to get you to drop your guard? Had it all been a ploy for him to pin the death on you? Simply because he saw you as a traitor to your people? Because he saw you as something not fit to be alive?

God, you hated how much the betrayal hurt. You didn't know him, but that did nothing to stop it from hitting you where it hurt the most. It didn't stop from shattering each and every hope he had built up inside you yesterday. That someone like you could actually be seen passed your halfbreed status. That someone like you could actually be cared for. That someone like you could actually be loved.

You fought to hold back the tears that pooled in the corner of your eyes, stumbling your way back out from the growing crowd, desperate to get away.

What were you going to do? If the report wasn't enough to have you killed, this was. It wouldn't take long for the officials to show up at the scene and connect her death with the incident that had occurred between the two of you at the infirmary the day before. You may have had nothing to do with her death, but the evidence towards you was damning. Would they give you a chance to defend yourself? Or would they take what they were given? The citizens would demand justice for what had happened, leaving the council no choice but to find a scapegoat to put their minds back at ease. And with your connection to the murder, it was all the more likely they would use the coincidences that tied you to her as an excuse to rid the city of one more mutt.

The threat of a noose around your neck had you wanting to run once more, any relief you might have felt earlier had died alongside that woman. It was one thing to pay for something you had actually done. But this, this was something you had no part in. You wanted to run, to hide, to disappear before they had a chance to hang you for it.

But you couldn't. Even if you weren't fully aware running would only serve to make you look more guilty than you already were, you couldn't leave. Not without Soomin or Hyunwoo. Leaving might delay your own death, but it would come at the cost of their own. As much as you didn't want to die, you couldn't willingly put them at risk. You had already put them in harm's way as it was and you wouldn't be able to continue living as it was if your actions led to their deaths.

Your hands were still shaking when you reached the infirmary, body shivering as you passed by the spot you had stood with him the day before. Another painful reminder of how stupid you had been for trusting him. Of how stupid you had been for believing anything he had said. Of how stupid you had been for thinking he might have actually cared for you.

While the council had done their best to cover the crime up, word spread through the city like wildfire over the next few hours. The message written in her blood had been cleaned up shortly after you had left, but that hadn't stopped anyone from repeating it in hushed conversations. It was all everyone was talking about as they arrived for their shifts at the clinic, eyes shifting your direction when they saw you. Each of them were well aware of the incident that had occurred the day before, and had pinned the blame on you without any hesitation.

"I apologize for having to bother you while you're at work. I'm aware of how valuable your time is."

They showed up two hours into your shift, approaching you in the back where you had been busy trying to distract yourself with some brewing. You hadn't heard them come in, however, and the vial you had been holding slipped through your fingers when one of them spoke, shattering against the floor.

"Once again, I must apologize. We didn’t mean to startle you. Your supervisor said we were free to make our way back here." He offered you a sheepish smile when you apologized for the slip up, and you rushed for a broom to clean the mess up and prayed he didn't mistake your nerves for guilt. "Like I said, we're aware of how valuable your time is, but I'm afraid we can't let you get back to work until we've run through a few questions with you. So, if you wouldn't mind drinking this for us, we can get this done with as quickly as possible." His eyes seemed to glitter as he held out a glass vial towards you, the milky white coloring of the liquid swirling inside signaling you to its contents.

You didn't know whether to be relieved or not at the prospect of drinking the truth potion. On one hand it meant you could clear your name of the crime and prove you hadn't done it, but on the other, it could very well have you spilling other things you had done that were just as damning. It just all depended on which questions were asked.

"I believe you're already well aware of the murder that occurred some time in the night, is that correct?"

He began the interrogation once the contents of the potion were downed and the two of you were settled across from each other at a nearby table. You nodded in response, trying hard to steady your shaking hands and keep from fidgeting too much. Your interrogator seemed friendly enough for someone in his role, but his relaxed demeanor did little to help calm you, especially with the way his two guards glared at you from behind. It was obvious they had pinned the blame on you like the others and were just waiting for the moment when you would be forced to reveal your secrets to them.

"I need a verbal response from you, Miss l/n."

"Right, sorry," you gulped, nodding once more. The truth potion you had been given did prevent you from speaking anything but the truth, but it had little affect on anything other than verbal responses. You knew that. You had brewed hundreds of these potions before, after all, and had probably been the one to brew the one you just drank. The irony of it would have made you laugh if you weren't so panicked at the moment, the nerves coursing through you system making it difficult for you to find your voice. "Yes, I'm aware of the murder. I witnessed the body on my walk into work this morning."

"Good, thank you."

He offered you another smile, but the action only served to make you more off put by him rather than to comfort you. His demeanor felt odd, and was vastly different from the security officers you had worked with before. It was less accusatory and more relaxed, as though this was all just a game for him. As though he couldn't care less whether you were actually convicted or not. The grin he kept sending your way was almost playful, and didn't quite match the typical gruff exterior of the officers you had been around. Whether this was normal for him or not, it was hard to tell. But it seemed to you that even his guards seemed a bit put off by his actions, their eyes continually shifting back and forth between the two of you.

"Now, the victim was the mother of one of the councilmen at Yuchae, a Hak Seongmin. Have you ever had any run-ins with Ms. Hak before her death?"

"Yes, I had the pleasure of meeting her the day before here in the clinic." As much as you didn't want to talk about what had happened, the words fell off your tongue with an ease that frustrated you. You knew the incident would only serve to throw suspicion in your direction, but it was impossible for you to stop yourself once the first word rolled off your tongue. "She had started a commotion with one of the other healers, so I went over to try and deescalate the situation which only resulted in her getting angry with me."

"Interesting," he hummed, leaning forward in his seat and resting his chin in his hand. "And what happened during this exchange?"

"She claimed I was trying to poison her, but that wasn't, isn't, true. I would never try to poison anyone." You shook your head, wanting to stop talking, but the question had only prompted you to keep going. And the more you tried to fight the potion working its way through your system, the worse it was going to get for you. "She ended up slapping me before she left and threatened to report both myself and one of the other half-daemon healers I work with."

"So you killed her to get your revenge, isn't that right?" The guard on your left sneered, a haughty smile peeking through as the conversation turned the direction he wanted it to.

You shook your head, a new hint of desperation in your tone. "No, I swear it wasn't me. I didn't kill her."

"You lying bi-"

"Chang, that's enough." The interrogator raised his hand, signaling the guard to stop when your response only triggered him to start some nonsense of you lying. "We all saw her drink the potion, so we all know she's telling the truth. It would be impossible for her to say anything else, so please, let me do my job and ask the questions here. She may not have killed Ms. Hak, but she may know who did." He raised his brow at the guard, as though daring him to speak up and rebuke his statement, but the guard simply threw another nasty look in your direction, blaming the reprimand he had just received on you. "Good, so you had a bit of an altercation with Ms. Hak while you were at work yesterday. What did you do when she left?"

"The lead healer on duty thought it would be best if I returned home for the day. This wasn't the first time something like that had happened yesterday with the amount of refugees coming in who aren't used to half-daemons, so I went home."

"And did you leave your house in between the time you went home from work and when you left this morning to come back in?"

"No, I was at home with my siblings the entire night. None of us ever left until this morning to go back to work."

"And I know our friend over here has already asked this, but I'm going to need to ask it one last time just for the official records. Did you kill Ms. Hak?"

"No. I didn't kill her."

"Do you have any inclination of who might have wanted her dead? Anyone who showed signs of having an allegiance with the daemons?"

And there it was. The question you had been dreading.

You had been expecting it, but you still felt your breath hitch when it finally came. It was easy enough for you to prove your innocence towards this crime, you had just done it, but it was impossible for you to not share your earlier revelations with the officer if this question was asked. After all, you had more than a sneaking suspicion of who the killer had been.

You were almost certain it had been Yeosang who had killed her. And though his actual motive behind the crime had been less clear to you, you had no doubt it had been him. It was all too coincidental for it to not have been him. His threats towards the woman had been damning enough, but his use of referring to humans as pigs had been what had tied it all together for you. Only daemons were prideful enough to refer to humans as something so unclean.

In your initial panic, you had been sure his motive had been sinister, sure he had killed her to pin the blame on you and rid the world of one more mutt, but as time went on and your emotions began to reign themselves back in, you weren't so sure. In some ways it did make sense. He had lied about who he was, so there was no telling what else he had been lying about, but the explanation didn't clear everything up. As much as you were certain he had used you in that moment - he was a daemon, after all - you couldn't shake the sincerity in his eyes when he had first taken you in. It had been impossible for him to fully hide his hatred towards the woman who had threatened you, but when it came to you, he had shown nothing but care and compassion. The way his fingers had trailed across your cheek had been so terribly gentle that you couldn't see how he was just acting in that moment.

And for just a second, you had allowed yourself to contemplate another scenario. One where her death hadn't been an act against you, but one for you.

It was crazy. Absolutely insane. But what if it was true? What if he had killed her because she had harmed you? Because she had threatened your life?

You had always assumed the daemons had lied when they claimed they had no intention of harming you, including when they had gone so far as to offer you protection. You had been certain it was all a lie because their general, this Seonghwa, had ultimately attacked you in the end and marked you as a traitor to your own people. At least, that was how you had seen it all before. But now. Now you weren't so sure.

The only way things started to line up in a way that made sense was when you finally allowed yourself to consider the option the daemons weren't lying, at least not when it came to your safety. That maybe, just maybe, they had been telling the truth when they had claimed no harm would come to you. They were well aware you were someone on the other side now, so maybe their intention of unmasking you was so they really could protect you from themselves when the war came to an end. By marking you with the king's sigil, they were risking possibly exposing you as a traitor to the humans, but it must have been a risk they were willing to take when they had spies on the other side. This was why the voice from that first night back home had told you there was no need to be afraid. It was why he had said they would make sure you remained safe because they had people who could protect you from your own side now that they knew who you were. All this you had come to with little hesitation because it did, in a way, make sense. You had saved the lives of their soldiers, saved the life of one of their generals, so they had gone and returned the favor just like they said they would.

It was the way they had gone about saving your life among a few other minute details that left you so unnerved by the prospect.

Your first concern was the voice that had spoken to you inside your head. You had chalked it up to exhaustion in the beginning, not quite wanting to face the truth of it, but now you were left with little other choice. After the events of the past few days, you knew this voice was no figment of your imagination. Who the voice might have been and how they were doing it, though, was still unknown to you.

Your first thought had been Seonghwa. He had been the one who had started all this, but the voice hadn't sounded like him. And it didn't sound like Yeosang either, so then who? The daemon king? That was the only other possible solution you could come up with, but the idea of it being him who had spoken to you was so improbable and insane, you had tossed it out the moment it had crossed your mind. The voice might have said that anyone who harmed you would face the daemon king's wrath, but that didn't mean he was the one who had said it to you. Because why would the daemon king hold any interest in you? Why would he want anything to do with someone of your kind? Of your status?

And yet, despite who had actually said it, the threat had still rang true. Here was a woman who had not only threatened your life, but also raised a hand against you, and she was struck dead by an agent of the king in less than a day. You liked to think it was a coincidence. Wanted to think it was nothing more than a coincidence, but you knew better than that. Her death had not been an accident. It had not been an act committed to strike fear into the humans' hearts. And it hadn't been an act to spite you as a halfbreed. Her death had come because she had threatened you. Because she had hurt you.

As much as the idea should have comforted you in knowing they were being sincere in their offer of keeping you safe and alive throughout the remainder of the war, you felt the complete opposite. You hadn't liked the woman. Hell, perhaps a small part of you had even wished she would die, but you never actually wanted her to die for what she had done. And not only was she now dead, but you were the whole reason for it. Unknowingly or not, you had played a role in her death and now a part of her blood rested on your hands just as much as the one who had killed her.

It was hard to tell which scenario made you feel worse. On one hand, the idea that Yeosang might have not actually used you, that a part of him had actually cared for you, filled you with a warmth that came back much too quickly for your liking. But on the other, the fact he had willingly killed her for something so small left you shivering with disgust and fear. For if they killed her for something as small as a threat of a report, what else would they do? Who else would they kill? How much blood would they taint your hands with? There were thousands of people who hated you. Hundreds of people who mistreated you. Would they kill each and every one of them?

And yet, despite it all, you still dreaded giving Yeosang up. He had lied to you - what all about, you still weren't sure. He was a daemon. He had killed that woman, and yet, giving him up was something you didn't think you could do. At least not willingly.

You knew how important the information was, knew telling them a daemon spy was in the city wrecking mayhem all because of you was important information, but you didn't want to give it up. Whether this was simply because you were terrified of the repercussions it might have or whether you knew doing it would reveal yourself or cause Yeosang to come after you next. Or whether it was because a part of you thought he might have still held a semblance to the man who had been so terribly kind to you, you didn't know. You just wished it hadn't came to this moment right here, where you were left with no choice but to give him up.

"I...I-"

Before any of the information you had been dreading to speak could come out, your mouth promptly closed. And while under normal circumstances this might have relieved you, the fact it had not been yourself who had just closed it left you with the opposite reaction. If it wasn't for the fact you no longer seemed to have control of the rest of your body as well, you were pretty sure the panic that had exploded inside you in that moment would have been showing a lot more on the outside.

"No, sir. I have no idea who might have done such a thing." The lie, that you said, but had definitely not been said on your own volition, rolled off your tongue with an ease that should have been impossible. "I haven't seen anyone who might have wanted to harm her, but have you ever stopped to think this might not have been a murder?" You tried to stop the words from coming out, but nothing you did would stop yourself. "Have you stopped to think that maybe she had been the spy herself and played a part in her murder to start a panic?"

"You think Ms. Hak did this to herself?" The interrogator leaned forward in his seat once more, interested in whatever nonsense you - or more so, whoever was currently controlling you - were spouting.

Relax, angel. I'm going to get you through this.

You tensed as the voice spoke inside your head once more, a clear sign that whoever was doing this to you was also the daemon who had spoken to you in your head that first night. But while you inwardly screamed at him to stop what he was doing right then and there and that you didn't need nor want his help, he didn't seem to hear. Either that, or he just didn't care.

Please, just relax for me, will you, pretty? It makes it much easier for me when you aren't actively trying to fight me for control.

"The woman had just come from Yuchae, right? Perhaps something had happened to her there that caused her death last night and not something that had happened here."

And though you wanted to keep fighting him, terrified by the power this unknown daemon had over you, there was nothing you could do to stop him. All you could do was sit there, powerless in your own body, and let him do whatever it was he wanted.

There you go, angel. Nice and easy, see? Just a little longer and it'll all be over. Let me get you out of this, okay, pretty? Let me help you.

"Daemons have all sorts of strange and terrifying powers, especially the Seven. Perhaps she had a run in with one of them in Yuchae that caused this incident to occur. And perhaps the reason why she created the commotion in the infirmary with me yesterday was to simply throw suspicion away from the idea that the daemons truly were the ones behind it and pin it on us, half-daemons."

"Tell me you don't actually believe this bullsh-" The guard from before started once more, unable to keep his mouth shut a second time. But the interrogator stopped him before he could finish his statement.

"Weirder things have happened before," he replied, but there was a strange sort of smile on his face. One that neither of his colleagues could see but was on full display for you. "Besides, she's only speaking about what she believes to have happened. You might be right and this is nothing more than nonsense, but I think we can safely assume she had nothing to do with Ms. Hak's murder, don't you agree?"

It was then that you finally took notice of the pressure in your chest. It didn't feel quite as hollow as it normally did, mimicking a similar feeling to the one Yeosang's presence had brought you the day before. You had just been so panicked beforehand, that you hadn't noticed the way it seemed to thrum before him. Your eyes widened as you took the officer's appearance in once more, the realization of what this might have meant hitting you at the teasing smile he suddenly sent your way.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, taking note of your reaction and tilting his head. The playful demeanor felt so strange and foreign in the body of the man before you, but there was no mistaking it. He was a daemon just like Yeosang. Or... was he simply Yeosang in disguise again?

Nope, try again, angel.

The voice that spoke in your head this time was different than the one before, and based on the way the man's eyes glittered deviously in your direction all but confirmed it had been him who had said it despite his voice not matching the one that had just rung in your mind. Not only did he speak with a different lilt in his accent, but the voice was younger, sweeter.

"You're-" you started once you found you had your voice back, but the other daemon must have still been observing the scene and quickly shut your moth before you could say anything damning about either of them. "No, sir. I'm just still a bit shaken at the idea a daemon could be hiding amongst us without us even realizing it."

"Well, if that's all then, I'd say we're finally done here." The man winked at you as he stood up, all but confirming the conclusion you had come to seconds earlier. "Have a great rest of your day, Miss l/n, but do us a favor and try and stay away from trouble, will you, angel?"

"You're just going to let the mutt go?" The guard asked, face incredulous as he started you down. "The victim was going to report her and she dies on her way home before the report could be filed. The bitch knows something and we both know it."

"What part of this conversation did you not understand, Chang? Or are you just that big of an idiot?" The interrogator's shoulders tensed at the outburst, eyes darkening as he turned to face him. "She told us everything she knows. The girl says she didn't have anything to do with the murder, and we can safely assume she's telling the truth since it would be impossible for her to tell us otherwise."

"Park's right. The whole situation seems a bit too coincidental if you ask me, but we all saw her drink the potion. The girl is innocent. It must have just been a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time." The other guard butted in, rolling her shoulders out. "We've got a long day in front of us as it is and I would really like to be home in time for dinner. Let's not waste any more time here than we have already."

Chang seemed like he wanted to rebuke both of their statements, but kept his mouth shut. Instead, his eyes seemed to bore into your still seated figure, and you didn't doubt he would have acted out his frustration if the two of you had been alone. However, he was left with no choice but to follow the other two officers out as the interrogator grabbed hold of his shoulder and pulled him out of the room.

The second the door swung shut behind them, your head collapsed inside your hands and a shaky breath escaped your lips. Full control of your body may have been given back to you, but the lingering feeling of his presence left you terrified. Much more terrified than anything you had felt during the actual interrogation from the humans. Or, well, the daemon, really. And doubt you had felt towards his true nature had been tossed out the window the moment he had spoken to you inside you head.

Once again, you were left with little relief from escaping the interrogation with your life intact, filled with the all too familiar feeling of confusion and fear. You were once again at a complete loss on what had just happened or why it had happened. It might have helped solidify the conclusion you had slowly come to in that the daemons were following through with their promises, but why? Why did they put so much effort into protecting you? Sure, you had saved many of their lives, but why go through so much trouble to make sure you didn't die on them in the meantime? Why were there daemons speaking to you in your mind? And who was that first daemon? How had he gotten access to your mind and how had he taken control of your body?

You scoured your brain for the answers, scrambling to remember anything from that night so many weeks ago. Whatever had happened that night held the answers you yearned for, but time had long since glossed the memories over. No matter how hard you racked your mind for answers, the conversation you had held with the general was long gone. Only fragments now remained. None of which helped you now.

Whether it was the interrogation that left you so shaken or the daemons that haunted your mind, you struggled to focus on your work once they were done with you. With tensions between humans and your kind higher than ever due to the death of Ms. Hak, you were forced into the back rooms to brew. But while potion brewing had always served as a way to help relax and distract you, it was different this time. Nothing you did helped to calm your racing mind and you found yourself making mistakes more often than not. And when you had messed up your third potion for the day by miscounting the number of stirs and forced to throw the contents out and start afresh, Suho finally sent you home once again with orders to get some rest and try again tomorrow.

You attempted to fight him on the matter again, but ultimately knew he was right. You may have been the best healer in the city, but you were useless to them in your current mindset. Stocks were low as it was and you couldn’t afford to waste any more. For the first time in a long time you felt utterly useless.

Hak Seongmin was dead because of you. Because you had failed to deescalate the commotion. Because you had been too caught up in the incident to use your brain and act accordingly. And despite the daemons playing a role in this mess, you were only still alive because of them. If they hadn’t stepped in, you would likely find yourself at death’s door after being forced to reveal your deepest and darkest secrets. And now you couldn’t even brew potions any more. The one thing in life you prided yourself on, and you couldn’t even do it. You were the person the city, no, the humans, leaned on when it came to healing, and it had come down to the point you were more useful at home doing nothing.

Was there even a point to try and stay alive anymore? Was there any purpose of continuing to fight the death that seemed to cling to you? You didn’t know anymore, and wondered if it would be easier on everyone if you just allowed yourself to succumb to the fate you had chosen for yourself when you had attempted to play hero and donned yourself as the Black Angel.

The sudden twist of your thoughts scared you, and you did your best to push them back, ashamed at even thinking about it. None of it was true. You knew that, but knowing it and believing it were two different things. And despite knowing your life was still something worth fighting for, it was becoming harder to actually believe it when the thought of succumbing to your fate was so much easier. It wasn’t like anyone would care if you died. In fact, your death might actually be celebrated. One less mutt to worry about. One less mutt contaminating the city.

You shook your head, doing your best to shake the lies away. People would care. Soomin and Hyunwoo would care. Your emotions were just getting the better of you. You were just letting your fear dictate your thoughts.

With the sudden turn your thoughts had taken, you quickly learned being at home was no better than being at work, and in some ways, it was worse. Both of your siblings were still out at work, leaving the house all to yourself for the afternoon. The privacy and alone time had used to be something you craved, but found the silence suffocating this time around. All it did was leave you alone with your thoughts, the very thing you had been trying to escape all along.

When even sleep escaped your grasp, you decided the best thing to do was to go out. It was beginning to be dangerous leaving yourself all alone, and hoped a walk and some fresh air would help alleviate your racing mind and quell the darker thoughts that had began to take root. Grabbing the cloak you had yet to fix since that night, you pulled the hood over your head as you made your way out the door, hoping for enough anonymity to prevent anyone from bothering you. The few hours you had spent in the clinic had been enough to show you the outcome the woman’s death had caused, and while you had thought the day before had been rough, it was nothing compared to what you had faced today. Nearly every human who had laid eyes on you had some sly comment to make towards you, whether it was to your face or just loud enough to make sure you overheard. It didn’t matter you had since been proven innocent. The guilt was still placed upon you.

You had no specific destination in mind as you walked, sticking to the less traveled paths as you went. The cool, autumn air helped to calm your mind some, but even it couldn’t distract you fully. No one paid much mind to you as you went, one of the runes Soomin had stitched into the fabric of your cloak made you less likely to be seen, even in the daylight, and you could hear the rumors floating around. Last night’s murder was on everyone’s mind and rumors about what it meant flew through the air.

Some thought it nothing more than a terrible prank, a murderer who had used the growing threat of the daemons to throw the scent off his trail. Others took it for what it was: a sign of what was to come. That once the city of Yuchae finally fell against the daemon forces assaulting it, they would move on to Maehwa. And some, though these were in the minority, were close to the truth. That it was a sign the battle for Maehwa had already come. That daemons had already infested the city and Ms. Hak’s death was a sign of the death and destruction that was to come in the following days.

You, on the other hand, knew none of these rumors and speculations were the whole truth. Perhaps her death did hold a promise of the battle that was coming and that daemons were already in the city, but none of that was why she had been killed. She had died because she had dared to raise a hand against you, an action that had caused her to be on the receiving end of their wrath. Why, you still couldn’t quite figure it out, and just prayed no one else succeeded in following her lead. You didn’t want any more blood on your hands than there already was.

The sun had begun to set by the time you decided it would be best if you returned home. While the walk had answered none of the questions running through your head, it had helped to calm you down a bit and allow the exhaustion from the lack of sleep you had gotten the night before to finally catch up with you.

You were only about halfway back when a bell began to echo throughout the streets, stopping you in your path altogether. The fear you had attempted to push away came back in full force as the bells which served as a warning for coming danger began to ring throughout the city.

The daemons had finally arrived. Maehwa was under attack.

@layzfeelit @calirix @seonghwarizon @yunho0o0o0 @blglmgk01 @marievllr-abg @ddeonghwva @rosie-hao @malyxsoulpersonal @kirooz @violetpenguinkris @woosmaid @eggyomelet @wooya1224 @mulanateez @kimi-kiwi @eastleighsblog @baguette-atiny @yourleftsock @dear-dreamie @uriruwi

a/n: I know last post there were some issues with the tags. Not sure what entirely happened, but maybe it’ll work this time. If not, or I missed someone, I’m sorry once again. Please, let me know!

#ateez x reader #ateez #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #mingi x reader #jongho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #wooyoung x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez fantasy au #yandere #yandere ateez

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demiesworld · 11 months

Note

Hi, I really love your take on the clones and was wondering if you could do a countinuation of the second part of the Hantengu Quad Squad College AU, where the reader breaks up with Kyojuro and starts dating one (or all) of the brothers? (:

【♛ demie: you got it my love! i know in an earlier post i said i wasn't comfortable doing a poly relationship. since i dont want to like get the dynamic of that type of relationship wrong bc i am inexperienced in that. however, just for this request, i will do this as a poly. i hope i satisfied your request, my love, and enjoy!】

poly r/s with the hantengu brothers

characters: sekido, karaku, aizetsu, urogi, kyojuro (mentioned), and fem!reader

synopsis: reader breaks up with kyojuro and moves on to the hantengu brothers.

contents: mild swearing, sfw, suggestive themes (?) idk what else to add

notes: hantengu brothers are all 22, and are depicted as quadruplets. their skin tones will be mentioned as being tan or dark. reader is of age. this takes place in modern college au and everyone is a human. p.s. we're just going to establish that the reader and hantengu brothers are already friends. though she is closest to urogi since she met him first.

You were heartbroken. You were devastated. You didn't know how to continue on with your life. The day that you never thought would come, came on a summer night when you texted Kyojuro to meet up with you at a gazebo. You were upset that you had to be the one to do this but you gathered every ounce of strength and courage to tell him. You couldn't keep up the façade any longer.

You had broke up with Kyojuro.

The relationship had became distant with Kyojuro being a student at Kimetsu Academy and you being one at Infinity Academy. Your schedules had began to collide after you got accustomed to your new classes at Infinity Academy. It seemed like you could never meet at a reasonable time. He had work when you had school, or he had school when you had work. Even on weekends, either one of you were busy with your extracurricular activities outside of school.

The first person you opened up to about your relationship ending was Urogi. The day after you broke up with Kyojuro you met up with Urogi at a park in the evening and you were swinging with him pushing you higher on it. There wasn't a lot of words said between you two and Urogi knew something wasn't right. While you may not have been as talkative as him, you were verbally responsive. Seeing you look so gloomy like Aizetsu bothered him since gloominess wasn't your thing.

He abruptly grabbed the chains on the swing and stopped swinging you. Urogi moved to stand in front of you and his warm hazel eyes looked at the top of your head since you were looking at the ground.

"Hey... what's goin' on?" He asked softly, and then places his hand on your head when you don't respond. "Hello earth to Y/N? You know you'd be screaming at me to stop pushing you so high up like that. Now you're not even complainin' what's going on? Did you fail a test? You got fired from work or somethin'?" He then decided to tease you by saying, "Is little Kyojuro not enough for you anymore?"

Just then you hiccupped, your shoulders jerking and body slouching forward closer to Urogi. He caught you by hooking his arms underneath your armpits to hold you upright. He had a shocked expression. He didn't say anything rude did he? Urogi was going to ask you another question, but you lifted your head up and he could see that you have been crying.

He felt arms wrap around his waist and his abdomen becoming damp from your tears. Yeah, something must have happened to you indeed for you to be crying to him like this. Urogi comforted you with his hands on your shoulders caressing them. As you cried he just stood there waiting for you calm down. When you did he squatted in front of you and asked what was wrong.

It was there, at the gazebo, when you explained to him why you were upset. You had broken up with Kyojuro. While the break up was mutual on both sides, still it was a break up after all. Urogi guessed you loved him very much.

That night Urogi took you out for ice cream at a ice cream parlor. You two didn't talk, but you sat in silence just enjoying each other's company. Afterwards, you two parted ways and went home.

A few days later, you showed up to school and you were greeted by Urogi in your homeroom class.

"Mornin' sweet cheeks, how do you feel?" He said as he sat in the chair behind yours. After your first meeting, you and Urogi had agreed to switch places because you started to like sitting underneath the air vent.

You shrug your shoulders, "I feel a bit better I guess. Why do you ask?"

Urogi beams, "No reason. Just curious is all. That's good to hear though because my brothers have been asking about you."

You were writing in your notebook when you paused and looked over your shoulder at Urogi. "Your brothers?"

Urogi blinked at you, wondering why you sounded so surprised. "Yeah they were concerned and all when I told them you broke up with that guy."

You curl your lip, and snap, "Don't just call Kyojuro 'that guy' please. So him a little respect. It's not like he broke up with me, I broke up with him." You turn away from him before adding, "And it was mutual."

"Okay then... anyways, my brothers were concerned. They told me to tell you that if you ever needed anything from us you don't even have to ask. We'll help you."

You jerk your shoulders, "I'm not some charity case, Hantengu, you all don't have to do anything."

Sensing that you were irritated Urogi just rolled his eyes and folded his arms behind his head. For the duration of homeroom class, you and him did not talk to each other. Except for when Urogi asked you for a pencil for his next class and you begrudgingly gave one to him.

You entered your first period class that you shared with Aizetsu with a frown on your face. Aizetsu, as usual, was sleeping at his desk. You didn't pay him no mind. Instead you took the empty seat next to him and unlocked your phone. You got text messages from each of the Hantengu brothers.

[from: angry bird

You're sitting with us at lunch today. ✓sent 8:05am]

[from: zetsu

It hurts me to know that you're going through a tremendous pain right now. I wish I could help you alleviate it. Here's my Spotify playlist to help you get through the week.

link attached ✓sent 8:04am]

[from: gigachad

ayoooo urogi told us that you and the fire bender broke up. sad. anyways cheer up hot stuff. ✓sent 7:51am]

You roll your eyes at Sekido's message and ignored to respond, saved the playlist from Aizetsu to your Spotify, and typed out a response to Karaku.

[to: gigachad

thanks for the concern ig? ✓sent 8:14am]

Your phone vibrated and you saw the response that Karaku had sent to you.

[from: gigachad

np. ✓sent 8:14am]

For the rest of the day your time spent in your classes with the quadruplets was rather quiet. You didn't talk to any of them, even when they tried to initiate a conversation with you. Your mind was still concentrated on your breakup with Kyojuro. You wondered if he felt as bad about this as you did. Of course he does, Kyojuro was a very sympathetic guy. On the anniversaries of his mother's passing he would cry to you about how much he missed her presence. His compassion was one of the many things you loved about him.

God this was going to be hard.

When lunch time came around you were dragged against your will to the Hantengu quadruplet brothers table. It was a table that they designated as theirs since their first day at the academy. No one bothered to tell them otherwise. And if they did, the oldest of the gang Sekido would tell them off to the point they would regret even vocalizing their opinion.

You were sat between Aizetsu and Karaku. Aizetsu was to your right and Karaku sat on your left. Your tray was filled with your favorite meal and dessert, courtesy of Sekido who loaded your plate with it. While on the inside you were beaming that you got to have your favorite foods, on the other hand your face maintained a frown.

Aizetsu noticed your dejected expression and he held up a box of strawberry pocky sticks to you. "I-I bought extra from the vending machine but I don't think I can eat it all. You can have this."

You shake your head and grumble, "I'm not hungry."

"Yes you are," Sekido said and he jabbed a fork into your food. He held up a bite sized piece to your mouth. "Open."

"I said I'm not hungry."

"It wasn't a question."

Karaku warned, "Sekido... leave her be bro."

"You shut up and mind your business." Sekido threatened him then looked back at you. "You need to eat something Y/N. Just because that idiot broke up with you doesn't mean you have to starve yourself. Now eat your food or I will force it down your throat."

What happened next none of the quadruplets would seen coming. You were sitting in your seat but in the blink of an eye your tray of food had landed directly on Sekido. Splashes of food landed on Urogi, sadly, but not enough to cover him in grime like his oldest brother. You shot up from your seat and gathered your things.

"You think you know everything?! You don't! Not one of you know anything or understand what I'm going through! So why don't you," You point to Sekido then to his brothers, "All of you! Leave me alone! I don't want to see any of your faces again!"

You huffed and bumped shoulders with both Karaku and Aizetsu as you slid through their bodies to exit the cafeteria. The quadruplet brothers all sat there in shock, and with mixed emotions about what just happened. Sekido couldn't even get angry after what you did to him. A part of him felt like he deserved it.

"Maybe we should... we should give her some time. Then she'll come around." Aizetsu suggested keeping a hopeful smile on his face.

Yeah... they should give you some time.

Eventually you'd come around.

Eventually never came.

You were avoiding the Hantengu quadruplet brothers like a plague. You didn't sit next to them during your respective classes. You didn't respond to their texts or calls. During lunch you weren't seen in the cafeteria anymore. It was like they didn't exist to you anymore. Which hurt them all. Hard. Especially for Aizetsu who had developed a bad habit of buying you an extra bag of candy ever since you complained about not having enough.

Urogi was the only one of the brothers that would try to talk the older brother into contacting you. He had asked Sekido, his response was, "Why should we even try? She obviously doesn't want to be friends with us anymore. And if she wants that, then I don't care." To which Urogi knew Sekido was lying through his teeth. Then he asked Karaku, and Karaku had told him, "Listen, bro, I don't think it's a good idea to talk to Y/N. I know we all miss her man, but she made it clear to us she doesn't want to see our faces. So... we need to let her go." And at the end of his sentence he was staring somberly at a beaded bracelet on his wrist. It was a bracelet you made for him in your crafts class. He kept it. As for Aizetsu, he disagreed, "Don't you think we should respect Y/N's wishes? We should give her time and like we all agreed upon she will come around." He was delusional for thinking you'd come around.

Since his brothers were opposed to the idea of contacting you, Urogi chose to take matters into his own hands. It has been precisely two weeks, 3 days, 2 nights, 1 hour, 43 minutes, and 21 seconds since you and him have talked. Urogi wasn't going to sit around and wait for you to come around. He was your best friend and damn it if he's gonna let you think a breakup will change that.

Without his brothers knowing, Urogi went over to your apartment unannounced. He knocked on your door, and lowered the cap on his head to shield his face. His long black hair was pulled into a low ponytail. "Papa's Pizza!" He called out in a poorly disguised voice.

"I didn't order a pizza!" You shout through the shut door.

Urogi continued, "You sure? This pizza says it's for a Y/N and they live at this address," He read your address out loud before adding, "I'm pretty sure this unit number is right too."

The sound of the door knob clicked, and the door was being pulled open. When you opened it wide enough to exclaim, "I didn't order a pizza!" Urogi was quick to lift his head and pushes you back into the house. Though he didn't think his plan over very well. He forgot that you were a fighter not a flighter.

So when he had shoved you into your apartment, you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and whacked him across his face. "S-Shit! Y/N stop! Ow!" You tackled him to the ground and punched at his head with your fists. Thankfully he covered it with his arms. "Stop it's me! It's Urogi! Hantengu Urogi!"

"Urogi?" you say out of shock in a gasp. You stop hitting him and stand up from kneeling above him. "What the hell are you doing here? I thought I didn't want to see your face."

Urogi sits up from the floor, leaning onto his elbow and his face covered in bruises. He took off the baseball cap, and pulled the hair tie out of his hair. With a shake of his head, his wavy black tresses fell back into place.

"Me and the bros are worried about you Y/N. You haven't talked to us in weeks, and you ignore our calls and texts. You're right we don't understand how you feel about this breakup with your ex. If you don't want to be friends with us then just tell us." He looked into your eyes with his golden ones, a wounded expression that you'd never thought you'd see ever on Urogi's face. "Otherwise quit actin' like we don't exist."

Your heart was crushed as you realized how selfish you were being. They only wanted to comfort you, but you just ignored them. You felt horrible. You sniffled as you fell to your knees and cried into your palms. Urogi heard your cries and shuffled to get closer to embrace you.

You sat there for a few minutes, just crying in Urogi's arms and being cradled, afterwards you stopped crying. Urogi carried you into your living room to sit down on the sofa then used a tissue to wipe away the tears on your face.

"I'm sorry for being a total bitch to you guys 'Rogi. I didn't know that by ignoring you guys I was pushing all of you away like that."

"Well you didn't have to do that you dummy. We're best friends, why would ignoring us be the best option for you?"

You retort with a sigh, "I don't know. Maybe I thought if I ignored you all, it would make this breakup with Kyojuro easier for me." In reality it didn't.

"Listen, we have absolutely nothing to do with your breakup with Kyojuro okay? So get that out of your head right now. Secondly, you didn't push us away we are always here for you. It's just when you told us you wanted space we all agreed on giving you space."

Your face turned expressionless and you responded, "I never said to give me space. I said I didn't want to see your face."

He shrugged his shoulders, "Same thing."

"No it's not!" You say with a humored chuckle and press a hand to your forehead. "God... what am I going to do with you Hantengu?"

"Nothin' because you're stuck with me and my brothers for life." He pushes you off of his lap and onto the sofa before standing to his feet. "So just so we're on the right page... are we still besties?"

You smile to him, "Yes we still are 'Rogi."

"Good. Now get your ass dressed in some clothes. We're going out to get some real food because I know for a fact you have just been munching on ramen bowls."

"I have not just been eating ramen!"

Urogi went into your kitchen and opened up the lid of your trash can, "Your trash begs to differ."

After arguing with him over your food consumption, you and Urogi went out to get dinner at your favorite restaurant. Thereafter you and him went over to his house where the rest of the quadruplets were hanging out at. When Aizetsu and Karaku saw you the two of them rushed over, pushed Urogi to the side, and gave you a tight hug. Sekido on the other hand stood on the side just watching you with his hands in his pockets. You seen him from the corner of your eye and waved for him to join the group hug. He shook his head.

"Why not? You guys let me go, please." The two brothers released you as you asked, and you turned your attention to Sekido. "Well? I'm waiting for a reason."

"You're mad at me."

"Mad at you? Sekido if I was mad, I wouldn't even be over here right now."

"I threatened to force feed you that day."

"In my eyes, I am perceiving it as you just being concerned for my welfare."

Sekido couldn't come up with a response to you. Instead he stood there scowling. You shook your head at him being so reluctant and walked up to him. You pulled him in for a hug, squeezing him tight around his sides, and burying your face into his clothed chest. Sekido was surprised when you embraced him, and in return he hugged you back.

You could hear his deep voice whisper in your ear, "I'm sorry. Please don't ignore us like that again."

After you've reconciled with the quadruplets, your thoughts about Kyojuro seem to disappear. You hung out with them more often, even spent time with each brother separately. During lunch in the cafeteria you went back into your usual habit of receiving an extra bag of candy from Aizetsu.

There were also times where meetings with the quadruplets did get a little flirtatious. Mostly with Karaku and Urogi. One night you had spent an evening working out with Karaku at the gym. He had convinced you into exercising with him on nights where you were available. As you were doing stretches before your workout, Karaku made a comment about how flexible you were becoming. You took it as a compliment, not thinking he was flirting with you, and thanked him for it. He responded to you with a coy, "I could be the one to stretch you out too." You were flabbergasted and immediately laughed at his remark to save yourself from an awkward situation.

While you did thought of Karaku as being attractive, not to forget the rest of the brothers, you didn't know how they felt about you. As far as you knew they saw you as a friend.

Apparently they didn't have the same view as you. They didn't just see you as their friend, they thought of you as their new girlfriend. Yes, they, meaning all of them. Each of the brothers were attracted to you in their own respective way. The first person to admit to their brother that they liked you in that way was Aizetsu. Actually he didn't admit to it, he was just caught writing down about how in love with you he was in his journal. By Urogi.

Urogi showed the journal to his brothers and they came clean that they wanted to pursue you. Though neither of them wanted to share you with their brother. Urogi wanted to date you because you were closest to him. Sekido wanted to date you because he liked spending time with you alone. Aizetsu wanted to date you because you were a beautiful girl and someone that wasn't into him just for his brothers. Meanwhile Karaku wanted to date you because he saw you as being his future wife.

They each had their reasons for wanting to be with you in terms of dating. Although neither of them knew how to confess their feelings for you and come to an agreement that they would have to share you. That was only if you were willing to do that or if you were interested.

The quadruplets eventually came to a compromise at some point during their three-month pining for you. When you weren't around them they would discuss about when to tell you. They settled for asking you out on a weekend night. The four of them showed up to your apartment door, Urogi knocking on it rapidly with a wide grin on his face.

You pulled open the door and blinked when you saw the four of them standing there. Everyone but Sekido was looking at you. Sekido's back was turned to you, his arms were folded to his chest with his shoulders tense, and if you squint you could see his ears were tinted red.

"What are you guys doing here? I thought you all needed to study for the finals."

Suddenly a bouquet of roses was shoved in your face by Sekido's hand. The roses were red and white, wrapped perfectly in a clear plastic and tied at the base by a red glitter ribbon. Your face heated up when you saw it and you took it away from him.

"Oh.. a-are these for me?" You ask softly and the four of them nod their heads. You smile tenderly to the flowers and brought them closer to your chest to sniff them. "Hm they smell lovely and look beautiful, but why are you guys giving me roses?"

Karaku cleared his throat, "We brought you roses because we have something important to tell you." Karaku nudged Sekido's shoulder, encouraging for him to finish the statement. Sekido glared at his brother from the corner of his eye but didn't move. Karaku nudged him again, this time harder, and Sekido grunted as he spun on his heel to look at you in the eye.

His face didn't have the usual scowl or furrowed brows. Instead, he looked conflicted and almost... nervous?

"We wanted to come over tonight to you because all of us have been feeling... things for you. We've been feeling like this ever since we started back being friends again and hanging out more often. All of us, the four of us, like you Y/N and we want to date you." Sekido explained.

Urogi added, "And we understand if you don't feel the same way about us. We also get that it could be too soon for you to you know... move on,"

Aizetsu continued, "After Kyojuro... but we needed to tell you. If you don't feel the same as we do then it's okay. We can always remain friends and forget that none of this ever happened."

Just then you said something that surprised the four of them. "What if... what if I feel the same for you guys too?"

"...WHAT?!" They all shout.

You blink and say, "Yeah I kind of, well, I do have a crush on you guys too. I liked you all even while I was with Kyojuro. The feelings just grew as we all became closer during these few months."

"W-What? Why didn't you tell us sooner?" Urogi questioned.

"I didn't know how to tell the four of you!"

"Wait, the four of us... you want to date the four of us? As in like a non-monogamous relationship?" Karaku pointed out.

You nod your head, "Is that not what you guys want? I mean, I like all of you equally. Plus I've never dated a set of quadruplets before."

Aizetsu said, "And we've never dated one person together as brothers."

The five of you got quiet and stood there staring at each other for a few moments. The silence and stillness was broken by Sekido clapping his hands together and grunting. "It's settled then. You're our girlfriend simple as that. Now... get dressed. We're taking you out on a date."

"Okay you all can come inside and wait for me to get dressed then. Oh, but where are we going?"

"Yeah where are we going Sekido? It better not be a seafood place you know I hate seafood." Karaku complained.

"Are we going out rolling skating Sekido? I'm not good at that." Aizetsu mentioned.

"Is it a movie we're all going to see?" Urogi asked.

You then piped, "Oh! I wanna go out bowling! That's the perfect date!"

Sekido growls, "No Karaku, no Aizetsu, no Urogi, no-" He was going to say your name and reject your request, but the pout and puppy eyes you gave him made Sekido change his mind. "Yes. We're going out bowling."

"Yay!" You cheer as you run to your bedroom to change into casual clothes.

"You only said that because you're soft for Y/N~" teased Urogi and he stuck out his tongue to his eldest brother. Karaku joined in, "Yeah he's so soft for Y/N~"

Aizetsu advised, "You guys should stop. It looks like Sekido is getting mad."

As Karaku and Urogi were teasing Sekido in the background with Aizetsu trying to stop them, the eldest was ignoring the other three. He had a fond smile on his face. So what if he was soft for you? It wasn't that bad to feel this way when it came to you.

You their girlfriend.

demie: I FINALLY FINISHED THIS REQUEST YALL. THIS WAS SITTING IN MY DRAFTS, BUT THEN I ACCIDENTALLY POSTED IT ONE DAY AND I HAD TO POST IT AS PRIVATE BC IT WAS A WIP. BUT NOW ITS DONE THANK YOU JESUS.

#sekido x reader #karaku x reader #aizetsu x reader #urogi x reader #demon slayer #kny #hantengu clones #kimetsu no yaiba #karaku #urogi #sekido #aizetsu #hantengu quad squad #hantengu clone #demies asks

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disaster-biraven · 26 days

Text

Love Notes - Masquerade AU

For @the-coffee-fandom

Marinette stood at the edge of the dance floor, trying not to pick at her dress. Gotham Academy was having its Annual Masquerade, and she had spent months making her dress and mask. Not to mention she also made Tim’s suit, the reciprocate for her anonymous love letters. This was the first time they were meeting where Tim was aware he was talking to the secret writer. She nervously scanned the room, waiting for him to arrive.

For months, they’d written back and forth leaving the letters in Tim’s locker. Whenever Marinette would leave a letter, she would take any response he had left. He had never asked how she got into his locker. He only knew her as L, short for her secret identity; Ladybug. When the date of the Masquerade had been announced both of them immediately asked the other to the dance, with Marinette offering to make both their outfits.

With the Kwami’s help, she put magic into the mask that would keep Tim from figuring out who she was. Which would frustrate him to no end, she, unlike her classmates had figured out he was an amazing detective. The whole time they had been in correspondence she could see him take note of any information she gave him and go through their classmates, eliminating people. But he was one of the most popular people in the school, and Marinette was well-liked but flew under his radar.

“I’m assuming that since you match my suit, you’re L?” Even though she was positioned to see the whole room, she missed him sneaking up beside her. She whirled around to face him and stared back as he tried to place her. When he didn’t recognize her, his eyes fell to the intricate embroidery of her gown.

“Tim, you look amazing.” He looked up from admiring the detail on her dress and blushed.

“L, you’re breathtaking,” He held out his hand. “May I have this dance?”

~Five Months Earlier~

Last night had been a tough patrol, and being bruised all over Tim had wanted so badly to skip. But he had two tests and a presentation, so he powered through. He was so tired he almost missed the out-of-place letter, placed in the middle of his locker. It was faintly pink paper folded neatly into a square. Grabbing it along with his textbooks, he hurried to first period. Luckily he sat in the back of the class, so he didn’t have to worry about someone looking over his shoulder.

As he read through the letter, he found his eyebrows raising. The thought of someone having a crush on him was a surprise, much less having a secret admirer write to him. It said if he wanted to write back, all he had to do was leave a letter in the same place he found the first one. He couldn’t help but smile. A mystery.

Marinette rushed through the halls, late. She had slept through her alarm after staying up all night working on designs for the launch of her MDC website. She was already a well-known fashion name after all the big names she had designed for in Paris. So the upcoming website was the talk of the industry right now.

Turning the corner, she ran into a surprise wall and fell to the floor. Except it wasn’t a wall. It was Tim, who looked down at her startled.

“I’m so sorry! I was trying not to be late and wasn’t looking where I was going-” She rambled as he helped her up.

“Hey, no worries! It happens sometimes..” He looked at her expectingly.

“Oh! Marinette.” He beamed at her.

“Marinette! Nice to meet you, I’m Tim. Now, I won’t hold you up. The bell is ringing in 2 minutes.”

Forgetting her mortification she rushed passed him, as he laughed kindly. She couldn’t believe that was how they met.

Tim opened his locker to a new note. Good, that meant she got the one asking her to the ball. It was perfect, a masquerade so she’d feel comfortable coming, and he’d get to see what she looked like (other than her face, but a win is a win). He opened her letter right there and almost laughed out loud at her also asking him to the ball. There were also beautiful sketches of different suit designs along with the offer to make their outfits for the night. He couldn’t accept it quickly enough.

He had spent months trying to figure out who L could be. It wasn’t anyone whom he knew well enough to know their handwriting, and he had already crossed out any girl with a name starting with L. If he tried to beat her to the locker to see who was leaving the notes, she always knew and wouldn’t show. It was driving him mad. He had started to develop feelings for her in return, and he didn’t even know who she was.

Dancing with Tim was like a dream, they spun around to the music and talked like they knew each other forever. There was a break in the music, and they headed toward the snack table. As Tim handed her a cup of punch he asked,

“So will I get to find out who you are today?” He seemed nervous like he wasn’t sure he should be asking.

She tapped her finger against the edge of the cup, considering revealing herself earlier than planned. But she was nervous of what they’d become once he knew who she was. Would he reject her? Confess his feelings and make them official?

“Maybe, it does feel a little unfair to you to keep you waiting.” She set down the cup, looking back at him. “But I hope you’ll understand if I wait.”

“Of course, I don’t want you to do anything uncomfortable. I just would love to be able to talk to you every day, whenever we want.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her into a side hug.

The dance was almost over, with an hour to go when Marinette made her decision. She pulled Tim toward the doors that led to the outdoor courtyard and went outside. It was surprisingly empty as she sat down on one of the benches. Tim sat down beside her, not knowing what she had decided to do. Without speaking, she grabbed his hands and brought them to her mask. Tim’s eyes widened as she guided him to remove her mask.

“You’re Marinette! The girl that ran into me!” He cupped her face and brought their foreheads together. “That explains why you were so flustered, we had been talking for over a month at that point.”

“It was so embarrassing that that’s how we met.” Before she could start to ramble, he tilted her face up towards him. He paused, wanting her to make the move if she wanted to. She leaned in.

author's note: I hoped you liked it! This idea popped into my head almost fully formed. Please join the discord down below and tell me what you thought!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54893752

#maribat #marinette dupain cheng #mlb x dc #fanfic #timari #tim drake #masquerade #secret admirer #ao3

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jeonqkooks · 1 year

Note

Congratulations once again on the milestone Jen! You are amazing and deserve every big milestone coming your way! For the request can I please get prompt 19-“i’ve never seen anyone look so cute and ridiculous at the same time.” with Jin? Thank you in advance and I hope you have fun writing it!

pink bean fever | ksj

pairing: seokjin x reader

genre/warnings: best friend's roommate to ??, college au, fluff, swearing, mentions of pink bean but they're 1000% inaccurate bc i know nothing about maple story pls don't come for me, unedited !!

word count: 1.8k

note: jiya !! thank you so much for requesting this :') i had fun with it and i hope you like it too!! also, it's still jinnie's birthday somewhere so i will still consider this a birthday fic lol

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

Kim Namjoon, you’re going to kill him.

Kim fucking Namjoon.

Forty five minutes ago, you were getting ready to walk to your best friend's dorm so you two could go get dinner together somewhere nearby. Now, you're sitting on his bed, Namjoon nowhere in sight, just a few feet from his roommate Seokjin.

The guy that you have the biggest, fattest crush on.

You swear Namjoon did this on purpose. That motherfucker.

You watch Seokjin as he practically screams into the mic attached to his headset, his fingers skillfully bouncing on the keyboard of the laptop in front of him, playing a game you know nothing about.

"Jungkook ah! Where the fuck were you?! I almost got killed!"

This has been going on for almost twenty minutes now - you awkwardly perched on Namjoon's bed while Seokjin either screeches in excitement when he wins, or wails in agony when he loses the game. This is the fucking worst way to spend a Saturday evening.

You glance at your phone, praying to every god to make Namjoon reply to your hundredth text message cursing him out and asking where he is. You never should've told him about your crush on his roommate. He even had the audacity to laugh when you finally revealed who the object of your affection was. That fucking guy.

Objectively speaking, Seokjin is pretty lame. From what you can tell, he basically has no social life. He doesn't party, doesn't go out, doesn't take an interest in anything that doesn't have the words "Maple Story", "Super Mario", or "League of Legends" in it. All he does is play video games all day with his friends, whom you assume are the same people he's yelling at now. Namjoon told you that once, Seokjin forgot to eat anything for two days straight because he was on his computer the entire time.

That begs the question: If Seokjin was so lame, why are you so enamored with him? The answer is very simple. Seokjin is as cute as he is lame, which is to say that he is very fucking cute. When you met him earlier in the semester when Namjoon got assigned a new roommate, it was love at first sight.

However, you don't think you've ever held a one-on-one conversation with him before. Tonight might be the first time, when he opened the door for you and said you could wait for Namjoon here. You had squeaked out a shy Yes and followed him into the room where he offered you a glass of water before he returned to his computer, leaving you to wait around for a person you knew had left you to fend for yourself in the wilderness. This is exactly why Namjoon is doing this, you think. He's been telling you for a couple weeks now to just talk to Seokjin like a normal person instead of tripping over your words like a lovestruck idiot.

Occassionally, he looks over his shoulder at you, and you have to whip your head to the other side of the room so quickly you're surprised you didn't pull a muscle, just to not make it obvious that you've been staring at him like a weirdo.

After a while, Seokjin takes off his headset only to replace it with a hat. A... cap? You don't even know what it is. It's got a face of something pink with big round eyes and purple horns, and looks like it should be a plushie instead of something to wear on one's head. His friends have probably gone elsewhere, because he turns off the shooter game he was previously engaged in to play something else by himself.

"Sorry," he says. "I was pretty loud, wasn't I?"

"No, it's fine. I didn't mind," you tell him sheepishly. "Did Joon, uh, tell you when he'd be back?"

Seokjin shrugs. "No. He just said he was going for a quick walk. Went out right before you got here, actually."

Someone give you strength.

He turns back to his screen when you give a hum in acknowledgement. You go back to sitting in silence again, only this time, you notice that when he curses at the game, he makes an effort to lower his volume. Seokjin has a really nice voice, you think. Even when he's cussing, you just want to put it on a tape and listen to it for hours on end.

Okay, that is one thought that you should probably never say aloud. Especially not to Kim fucking Namjoon.

Another 15 minutes pass until Seokjin pauses the game to down the glass of water on the table in front of you - the one between his and Namjoon's bed. You pretend to look around the room even though you've got it memorized at this point. It's pretty small, and the guys don't really have a lot of decorations. Aside from a couple of Namjoon's art prints on the wall and a few of Seokjin's stuffed animals - how fucking cute is that? Jesus Christ, you are so whipped - the room doesn't have that much personality.

You can feel him looking at you as he gulps down his water, clearly not knowing what to say either. You could pass out from the sheer awkwardness that's suffocating the space.

You clear your throat. "Can I, uhm, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"What is that on your head?"

Seokjin puts down the glass and takes off his cap, holding it out so you can see it better. "Pink Bean!" he says with a grin. Goddamn, he is beautiful.

"Is that a character?"

He gasps, running a hand through his hair - which looks so, so soft that you want nothing more than to just run your fingers through it. His eyes widen until they're almost as big as the ones on the strange Bean creature. "You don't know what Pink Bean is?!"

"Should I?" you ask, unconsciously making yourself smaller as he stares at you. Seokjin looks equally as excited as he looks offended, shooting up from his chair to bounce onto Namjoon's bed, right next to you.

Your chest almost explodes. In your head, there's a series of question marks floating around; in your heart, there's a bunch of exclamation points detonating like fireworks. Oh god, what is happening?

"Uhm, yes! It's just one of my favorite characters of all time, duh! Okay, okay, so-"

Seokjin launches straight into a whole TED talk on Pink Bean, giving you its extensive backstory and just about everything in the universe that's related to Pink Bean - the quests, its powers, something called a Chaos Pink Bean? Every word he's saying is going into one ear and out the other. To you, he might as well be speaking a different language because you understand none of it and frankly, you don't even care.

But holy moly, he is so passionate about it. He talks about this stuff like Pink Bean is the love of his life and he's gonna marry it one day. Even though you're retaining about zero percent of all this information, watching him ramble is so endearing. His eyes are so bright, and throughout this impromptu presentation of his, he has to pause for a few seconds to catch his breath from all the talking.

You stifle a laugh, and he stops. Seokjin scratches his neck, putting the cap on his head again and looking at you with a sheepish smile. "Sorry, I didn't mean to talk your ears off."

"No, no, it's just-" You shake your head with a chuckle. "I've never seen anyone look so cute and ridiculous at the same time."

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you freeze. He freezes. You want the ground to open up so you could fall into that chasm and never be seen again. Life does not have any meaning anymore. Fuck Namjoon, you're not staying here anymore.

"I mean- Not that I think you're cute, it's just- Well, wait, no, I do think you're cute, but it's not-"

You could see a deep blush painting Seokjin's face, from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. You tear your eyes away from him like the idiot that you are. Your lips part, but no words come out because your brain is just blank at this point. You knew you would say something dumb and now you're knee-deep in embarrassment in front of your crush. Stupid, stupid, stupid-

Seokjin clears his throat. "Do you and Namjoon have plans tonight?"

You purse your lips and nod, though you're not sure if he's still looking at you because you're suddenly so keen on not looking at him. "We're just getting dinner," you say with faux nonchalance, as if you hadn't just called him cute two seconds ago and both of you seemed to have absolutely no idea what to do about it. "Joon said there's a new ramen place or something near campus."

"Is it the place where they have ramen sliders? I told him about that place. I've been meaning to go too but, uhm, I don't have anyone to go with."

Oh, hell no. You are not going to invite him to join you and Namjoon after that comment. In fact, you're not going to see Seokjin ever again. You're going to make Namjoon apply for a room reassignment just so you don't have to cross paths with Seokjin. Welp, this silly crush has been fun and miserable. Goodbye forever-

"If Namjoon ditches you, we can probably go together. Or something. Maybe. I don't know."

Your body stiffens, and you know he can probably tell since he's still sitting so close to you and you're not exactly being subtle. Heat creeps up your neck and splatters color onto your cheeks. You're thankful that your hair can cover some of it to preserve what little dignity you have left.

"It's okay. You don't have to. I'll probably- I should, no-" you stammer, "I'll just go home."

"Y/N," Seokjin says, "it's dinner. I'm pretty sure we'll survive a meal together."

"No, I know. It's-"

"Okay. Then let's go."

Before you can say anything, he's standing up. Your panicked eyes follow him as he moves to his side of the room to grab his jacket and ditch the Pink Bean hat. You rush to your feet, spluttering out every polite variation of No, please don't make me do this. I'm practically in love with you and this will only kill me dead that you could think off, but Seokjin is already ushering you out the door.

When he stops by the entryway to grab his keys on bowl next to the door, you could feel his chest pressed against your back. You're going insane with nerves and butterflies and mortification and anticipation and infatuation with this man and this is not fucking helping.

Behind you, Seokjin's low voice sends shivers down your spine with what he tells you next.

"For the record, I think you're cute too."

#seokjin x reader #seokjin x you #seokjin fluff #seokjin imagines #seokjin scenarios #seokjin reactions #seokjin fanfic #seokjin fic #bts x reader #bts x you #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts reactions #bts fanfic #bts fic #seokjin #bts #fic: pink bean fever

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vilsoo · 8 months

Text

୨⎯ CHAPTER TWO ⎯୧

incubus!fushiguro toji x fem!reader

꒰ ✟ ꒱ GENRE: horror, demon au, nsfw 18+, porn with plot.

꒰ ✟ ꒱ SUMMARY: Sex demons are not as provocative as you think they are. Not only do they engage in sexual acts with humans, they thrive off their flesh and haunt them in their nightmares. When an incubus disguised as a Reverend turns a hungry eye on one of the parishioners, gruesome events at the cathedral slowly unfold; blasphemy, gore, and terror…

꒰ ✟ ꒱ CHAPTER WARNINGS: blasphemy, WC: 2,396

PREVIOUS • MASTERLIST • NEXT CHAPTER

written in toji's pov, narration style similar to the Netflix show, "You." pov may also change in future chapters. this takes place in a fictional setting; St. Reze University & Cathedral.

"Bless me Father for I have sinned. It has been a week since my last confession..."

Father Getou Suguru, the priest who ordained me as a clergy member and who I work for now, would sometimes put me in charge of confessionals whenever he’s busy. Obviously I hated it. Sitting in this mahogany booth, listening to the sins and confessions of these miserable penitents that don’t even matter to me. Sometimes out of boredom I'd feel tempted to manipulate them out of their faith, but I couldn't afford to lose my job. I had no choice.

This evening I was starting to feel a bit sluggish while confessionals were ongoing. Some were short, some were emotional, and some just didn't know what to say in the midst of nervousness or inexperience. I didn’t even have to say much except for making up their penance as I try not to fall asleep. But as I sat down and pondered while this young male penitent babbled to me, the memory of you on your knees before me during Eucharist… haunted me.

“…But this one nightmare I had a few days ago, Reverend— call me dramatic, I don’t care… but when I woke up, I woke up literally gasping for my life. I couldn’t stop thinking about it that I got so distracted in class. It disturbs me when I even think about it. What should I do?”

And suddenly a wave of clarity washed over me when the male’s unsettled voice blended with the flashback of us under the rain hours ago. It took awhile to register what he said, especially when he mentioned nightmares.

Across the decorative screen, I frowned and remained silent. It was a little frustrating taking my focus off of you and onto another concern. Perhaps this evening confession had slightly intrigued me, especially knowing the true, daunting origins of nightmares that have been ongoing. And not just any plain nightmare that adults get from stress or medications. Majority of people tend to forget those that come and go, but if they continue lurking within one’s mind for several weeks…

“Hm. You got insomnia or something, kid?” I inquired, deciding not to think too deep about this. Whatever the fuck I smoked earlier had me overthinking too much. I’m peeved about it.

“Um. I'm twenty two," the man demurred. "But, no… I don’t have insomnia, surprisingly.”

“Then don’t sweat it. Just know that you can expect spiritual nourishment in a religious campus like this," I assured sardonically. “But in case that doesn’t work… start booking your therapy sessions.”

“Therapy?” he marveled. “Wow. This is the first time a Reverend gave me a penance like that. I thought you were gonna suggest something, like, plain old prayer and scripture.”

“Churches are all full of narcissists like that, kid. Now end off with a prayer and go.”

The man thanks me and proceeds with his final prayers and blessings before leaving. I sat alone in the booth for what felt like more than five minutes, waiting for any penitent left to come in. I couldn’t sense any human presence roaming about the ambulatory and transepts nearby, which had me relieved. But just as I was about to open the door and make my way from my debased duties as a Reverend, I can hear someone scurrying towards the booth and entering inside.

I sighed exasperatingly and cursed under my breath, throwing my head back against the mahogany wall and sulked. Though it was strange that my heightened senses weren’t able to detect anyone outside the booth, I was feeling rather passive aggressive. Whoever this person was caught me off guard completely; it’s always been a bad habit of mine to put my pride first before anything.

“Bless me Father for I have sinned. It has been two weeks since my last confession."

That voice. That silky, radiant honey and velvety voice— You. I decided to not speak and peered through the latticed opening into the opposite side of the dark wooden compartment and see that it was really you as the penitent. My penitent. An opportunity for me to see you plead for advice and dwell in your personal relationship with your god. My disinterest may or may not have been lifted after recognizing you…

“I confess that I have been distracted from my relationship with you,” you continued bashfully. “All of my time has been taken up by school, work, the people in my life… I even encountered someone that I couldn't stop thinking about the whole night."

I shifted in my seat, the wood slightly creaking as I crossed my legs and waited for you to elaborate. My heart felt heavy with anticipation, but I still remained silent. I could see you, but you couldn’t see me. I must admit, the way you’re indirectly speaking to me right now did bring a little amusement…

“He’s… he’s a Reverend for the church that I’ve never seen before. An older man with a gravely voice and a scar on the corner of his mouth. But there was something about him that makes me feel, I don’t know— bewitched, probably? Is that the right word? Well, I couldn’t focus during the Eucharist because of my… unwanted lust for him…”

After indulging in your confessions and finally hearing your lascivious truth, what you confessed to me seemed to bewitch me as well. And I felt a growing flame of rage from allowing this to happen to me, intoxicating my inhibitions like fire to gasoline, stinging me like push pins sliding into my skin. After our unexpected encounter tonight, all you could ever think about was me, just how all I could ever think about was you.

“I always come on Sundays. But this is my first time coming to the Saturday sermon, which means I might never see him again. I ask for your forgiveness of my sins, father. I also pray for your guidance to avoid whatever leads me to sinful thoughts and temptations like this. You are my god. I would never worship another being like you. In his name, my god, have mercy.”

You left the booth shortly after that, not giving me the chance to speak at all. Surprisingly that was the first confessional where I didn't have to respond to my penitent and only remained silent. Props to you for making my job easier.

But after hearing you beg to your god to avoid the sinful thoughts of lust and covet because of me… I've never felt so captivated over this. Over a human. You were the key to my dark little fairy tale that I'm so aching to taste. A chance for a lost little lamb to experience danger, corruption… and sin.

The way you’ve been provoking me tonight has me infuriated, I admit. My ongoing battle of cunning, dark, and sinister thoughts within my conscience, where I’d be tempted to corrupt these Catholic sheeps for my own satisfaction. Now I’m the corrupted one. I hate you for that. You're so ashamed to face sin, ashamed to face me. If I am your sin, then you're my impiety; I will forever have irreverence for your god without giving a damn. And what every demon like me caters to mortals, we fulfill them until they're dripping with sin and corruption.

When I left the booth and wandered down the nave, I sat on the front pew and grunted in exhaustion. I sat there for awhile, arching my neck back against the top edge like I was floating. Manspreading, my hands slid into my pockets then halted when I felt something. Your rosary.

I scrutinized it once again. Immediately my mind is cascaded by the thought of you during communion. You looked at me like I was no stranger, drinking the sight of me instead of that holy wine. A glimpse sublime, the most hypnotically sensual thing I’ve seen in this life. So ruthless of you to do. I find myself smitten by it when I play it in my mind, sanctifying me more than any holy concept in this church. I just couldn't get enough. I just couldn't stop replaying it in my head…

I glanced down at my slacks. When you looked at me drinking that wine on your knees… Oh, I was a man gone wild. Arousal had blossomed in my pelvis like an unwanted guest. My vivid imagination of you right there, right between my legs, kissing and worshiping me like how you kiss and worship the grace of your god. The never-ending eye contact. Bestowing that sweet mouth for my cock until I fuck into your throat…

Suddenly there was a noise. A noise that sent the synapses of my brain frozen, immediately taking my hand off my slacks and darting my head to the left. A strange echo reverberated through the stair tower. I held my breath and tried to make out another sound that would come from downstairs. Such eerie sounds don't really bother me, but it made me realize I wasn't the only one here at church late at night.

At first there was a hiss-like sound— like a giant serpent slithering, or the sharp growl of a feral beast. I couldn’t tell if it was my imagination fucking with me again, but such grotesque noise made me think someone's flesh was getting torn apart, followed by a prowling snarl.

There were faint screams, similar to the faint screams of the putrid souls back in Hell. But I couldn’t exactly tell because of the incense on the altar taking over my senses. My heart rate staggered and I could feel my lungs tightening from holding my breath. I was slightly perturbed, I admit. But just as I was about to stand up and investigate, a soft-spoken voice was suddenly heard from my right side.

“Toji?”

I averted to the opposite direction as if I was pulled back into a quieter reality, seeing a brunette woman in a habit. Her pale face emanated from the dark corners, approaching closer to the pew I sat at.

"Oh. It's you." The corner of my mouth stretched to a small smile as Sister Shoko Ieiri stood nearby, shoving the pearl rosary in my pockets. "What'cha doing here so late, hm?"

"I could ask you the same thing,” Shoko taunted. "I was closing the church and then I found you here. Were you on confessional duty?"

I nodded, letting her sit beside me and sighed out of exhaustion. Something shiny from her chest caught my eye— a hematite and aurora crystal bead rosary with a sterling silver pendant. It was much larger than the wooden rosary she would usually carry around. I watched as she weakly twisted it between her fingers, her expression growing melancholic.

"Everything alright?" I spoke low, trying my best to be sympathetic for the nun. She remained inanimate for awhile, like she was lost in her own complicated thoughts.

“Well, I’ve been getting less sleep..."

"Why's that?"

“…I’ve been feeling a little sick lately.” Sister Shoko rubbed her eyes and sniffled. “I’m gonna be locking the doors now, so you coming?”

This woman was obviously lying. However, I didn't really care that much to force her to open up to me. My intentions aren’t to get too involved with humans and their problems, especially with Shoko since she has a lot weighing down on her shoulders. As merciful as I can be, I followed her and waited as she locked the church doors outside.

"Want me to walk you to your car?" I ask.

Shoko hauled the keys off the doors to the narthex, slightly turning her face to me. “Uh, sure," she vacillated, smiling weakly. "I didn't take you as that kind of guy, honestly."

I pushed my shoulder off the walls and head down to the parking lot, my hands fidgeting with your rosary in my pocket. Then I kept thinking about what I've heard at the staircase tower near the cathedral’s balcony, glancing at every corner warily. The winds were small tonight, a tranquil stillness of the dark night surrounding us both while the beams of the moon shatter the sky.

"So. How are you and Sister Utahime?" I inquired, breaking the silence and my thoughts.

The brunette nun smiled down at the gravelly pavement, softly scoffing as a shade of red glowed at her cheeks. "Ah, you know. We're doing good. Thinking about moving in together next year."

"Oh. You could've brought her with you tonight, you know."

“I know," she pouted. "But she's usually asleep at this time and I didn't want to bother her. What about you, Fushiguro?"

"Hm?"

"Do you have any girl on your mind right now?" she simpered, pretending to act like some nosy high school girl. "C'mon, you sure look like you can pull anyone."

At first, I thought she was bluffing. "Nah," I replied, clutching the crucifix of your rosary chiseled firmly and sharp to my fingertips.

We finally reached her car, waiting as she fumbled with her keys to unlock it. "You sure?" she teased. "What about that girl I saw with you earlier today for the Eucharist?"

I deadpanned. "What girl?"

Shoko's shoulders dropped in disappointment. "Are you serious? The girl that drank from your wine! I've seen the way you looked at her."

I gazed into the sky as if I was pretending to remember. "Oh. Her," I spoke slowly. "I barely even know her, Shoko."

The brunette pulled her car door open. "Well, when I saw you two, it definitely looked like more than that."

"That’s insane. All she did was take the drink, what made you come up with that?” I say sardonically.

“Oh, don’t gaslight me, Fushiguro.” I wait as she stepped inside to the driver's seat and turned on the engine. "But, I thank you for keeping me company tonight.”

I smiled weakly, disregarding everything that she just speculated. “No problem. Have a goodnight.”

“You too, Toji.”

I close the door for her and watch as the nun drives away, left alone under the pale moonlight. I turn my head at the cathedral again for awhile, scanning the east stair tower outside. If the doors were unlocked and I had the motivation to investigate where that noise came from, I would've done so already. But I decided to drop it for now…

What am I to do with a stranger like you from now on?

TAGS: @suget @azanthys @haezen @heavenlyevil @saturniac @vampnyx @killzenin @diorsbrando @endurablerose @slut-manifesto @maxytx-blog @sugucidal

ALL WORKS BELONG TO VILSOO/POISEUNS © 2023. originally published April 10, 2021. do not steal, plagiarize, or translate without permission. do not repost or share any of my works where minors have access.

#ཐི♰ཋྀ ⋆ 𝐆𝐎𝐃’𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐄. ๋࣭ 𖤐 #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #fushiguro toji

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shina913 · 2 years

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Coquet, Part 9 | JJK

Coquet, Part 9

\ kō-ˈket Definition: noun. a man who indulges in flirtation.

✫✫✫Coquet Masterlist✫✫✫

Pairing: Escort!JJK x Fem-reader

Rating: M (🔞)

Genre: Fake-dating!AU; Strangers to lovers; fluff; angst; smut

Warnings: ANGST(!!!); pining; vulnerable confessions; some sexually-explicit conversations; cussing; self-deprecation; very slight hint of sexual tension; some medical terminologies

Word count: 11.8K+ words

Summary: On your brother's wedding, you dread traveling to see your family–whom you have successfully avoided for over a year after moving across the country for work. In an effort to save face, you hire an escort to get them off your back and perhaps even make your ex–who happens to be the best man–a little jealous.

A/N: Sorry this took so long! I had to sit in my feelings--just like my loves here. I also had a terrible case of writer's block while working on this. I was constantly questioning the direction that I was taking the narrative in. In the end, I went with the more realistic, sensible approach rather than going for instant gratification. And while the latter is easier and seems more satisfying, I wanted to maintain my core writing style--and that's making my characters earn the ending that I am setting them up for.

A/N2: Multiple POV switches occur here. I've tried to add headings to serve as a marker as to whose "headspace" you're in. Hope that helps! 😬

A/N3: The 'medical' portion here was directly lifted from an episode of House (love that show!). Just slightly paraphrased (for the dramz)! Also, if you've read my other works--let me know if you've picked up my not-so-subtle easter egg here 🤗

Needless to say, no wedding occurred the following day. Taehyung calmly explained things to your parents last night when he got back to the hospital. They were rightfully disappointed and extremely confused, but he didn’t leave them much room to complain about it.

There was no sign of Jennie or her family this morning either. Auntie Dahlia may have let slip that they left around dawn–before everybody else.

You wait patiently in the lobby with your suitcases as different groups board shuttles. Some were headed to the airport whilst others headed to a separate dropoff area where most local guests and relatives parked.

You were headed to your parents’ house to pick up one of their cars to drive back to the hospital so you could be there when your dad gets discharged. Instead of rebooking an earlier flight, you decided to spend your last night in your childhood home and leave on the day you had originally planned.

Too many thoughts, feeling so many emotions, you sighed and checked your flight’s confirmation email for the nth time.

You still had notifications turned on for any changes and last night you received an alert about one of the itineraries that you booked–Jungkook’s. Your phone pinged indicating that he flew out at 6:30 this morning.

Your fingers hovered on the text window’s keypad for a few seconds before closing out of it. You did the same thing last night after finding the envelope containing the money that you had given him at the beginning of the week. You didn’t care to count it.

You regretted lashing out at him. He was the unwitting recipient of your rage. Not to mention that you said the most awful words to him. Words you couldn’t take back.

It was not how you envisioned this trip ending.

Had you actually made plans to go out on a date with him? The last few days seem like a fever dream now after how things went down last night.

Haru was gone and you felt nothing. Jennie left but not before apologizing last night, trying to make things right. It counted for something but didn’t make their betrayal hurt less.

And now Jungkook was gone. You hunch over your knees and bury your head in your hands. That seemed like a harder pill to swallow.

You are pulled from your thoughts when you hear someone clearing their throat. Lifting your head slightly, you flick your eyes sideways and spot the tips of a pair of Chelsea boots. When you glance up, you see Jimin smiling at you. You force a smile in return.

He nudges your leg playfully, prompting you to scoot over so he could settle in the empty space next to you. You sit side-by-side in silence for a minute until you feel his arm curl around you, pulling you closer to him. You instinctively rest your head on his shoulder, releasing a deep, shaky breath so your tears wouldn’t fall.

Jimin could run his mouth if and when wanted to. You had a feeling that he had plenty to say about everything that happened last night, but he seems to settle with rubbing the side of your arm. It was comforting.

He finally breaks the silence with a mundane question. “Need a ride to the airport in a couple days?”

You sighed. “Will it be a quiet ride?”

“As quiet as you want it to be,” he promises.

You nodded. Straightening out, you look around the lobby, as if expecting somebody familiar to come walking by. “Is Mindi still up in her room packing?”

He closes one eye and squints, as if weighing his answer. “Sort of? She says she needs time to psych herself up before she sees you.”

You gave him a look of confusion. “Why would she need to do that?”

Jimin shifted in his seat. “She kind of feels guilty. By association.”

You groaned at the sound of that. “Chim, you know I don’t see it like that.”

“I know. I talked to her about it last night and this morning at length. She felt that she should have known–with her and Jennie being attached at the hip and all. And if she had known, she’d be the first to sound the alarm.” He simultaneously reasons with you and defends his sister’s emotions.

You tilted your head back and sighed. You rubbed your eyes, completely drained of life. You didn’t want all of this guilt floating around you, not when you had guilt of your own that you had to deal with.

“Jennie seemed like she was ready to take that secret to the grave,” you say, sounding distant.

“Mm. That’s the thing with people who seem too good to be true. They’re overcompensating for something,” he replies cynically.

Your eyebrows quirked and you glanced sideways at him. You wondered if maybe he had your secret figured out.

He lifted a shoulder, continuing. “But…sometimes, there are things that seem dubious but aren’t. You spend enough time being a skeptic, it makes it hard for you to tell whether something or someone is actually being genuine.”

“What if a person is just too gullible?”

He smirked at you. “Gullibility has its pros and cons. For one, people think you easily fall for something without even thinking it through. On the other hand, it means you believe that there’s inherent good in the world and that you’re not a complete cynic.”

You exchanged quiet looks. You felt guilty about keeping this secret from him. You were always very close, even when you were kids. Although you and Mindi played together more often, it was Jimin whom you spent the most time talking to.

“I don’t think you’re a cynic. Far from it. You just got dealt a bad hand. But you know what we always say after all those trips to Vegas? If you bust on this hand, you can either bet again or walk away. And nine times out of ten you bet again.”

You gave him a crooked smile. “I don’t know, Chim. I think you overestimate me too often.”

“I don’t overestimate you. I’m just somebody who wants to root for you.”

You stared at him for a minute, unaware that tears had pushed their way through. You hugged him tightly. “What would I do without you, Jiminie?”

He hummed. “Yeah. I love you, too.”

******

Jungkook

“‘Hello, Dr. Sakai!” A pair of nurses greet one of the residents checking in for her shift.

“Hi!” She responds cheerfully as she walks past them to proceed to the lockers. As soon as she crosses the threshold, she is stopped dead in her tracks.

“What the–what are you doing here?”

“Hello to you, too, Mayumi.” Jungkook chuckles as he shuts his locker and adjusts his lab coat. “I work here, remember?”

She shook her head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I thought you weren’t due back for another couple days?”

He shrugged. “Trip ended early.” His tone is clipped, with a slight edge to it. He stretches his shoulders and his neck–as if getting ready for battle. After landing an hour ago, he picked up a shift at the hospital and jumped right into work. Thankful for the time difference, at least he could keep his mind occupied for a few hours.

“Oh-kay,” Mayumi said slowly as she stared at Jungkook suspiciously.

“What?” He raised his eyebrows at her.

“Nothing!” She says dismissively. “I guess I’ll see you in a couple minutes for rounds, yeah?”

“Yep,” he says wryly before walking away.

******

After rounds, Mayumi and Jungkook hang out by the nurse’s station to finish up their patient notes. Mayumi keeps glancing at Jungkook, who was deeply invested in a patient’s post-op tonsillectomy.

“You’re being very detailed about that case,” she remarks.

“Oh you know, just making sure we cover all the bases. Wouldn’t want a medical malpractice suit because we had sparse notes,” he says dryly.

“Riiiiight,” she drags out. “Because our legal department is teeming with suits from tonsillectomies that have gone awry.”

He sighed briefly, nose still buried into his notes. “You know, there was a fairly recent case from this state–it was supposed to be a simple, routine procedure–and then the patient fell into a coma. Well…not on my watch!”

Mayumi rolls her eyes. “By the way–thank you for the consult a couple days ago. I’m sorry I kept bugging you with calls during your vacation.”

“I didn’t mind at all. Did the additional heavy metal tox screen turn up results?”

She nodded. “You were right. I really thought it was lupus but we went back to your heavy metal poisoning theory. We only kept ruling it out before because none of the initial tests came back with useful results–at least, nothing on the usual heavy metal suspects: lead, cadmium, mercury. Then I did as you suggested–expanded the test to the other metals.” She paused for dramatic effect. “Gold sodium thiomalate, if you can believe it? It was from their arthritis medication.”

He looked up, chuckling softly, pleased with himself. “Hm, interesting. That ingredient is not even approved to be used in arthritis medication in this country so…they must have acquired it from somewhere else.”

“Yep! They eventually confessed that their insurance wouldn’t cover the prescription so they went by other means.”

He nods vaguely. Happy that he was able to get a diagnosis correctly–even from afar. He turned back to his notes.

“You know–I envy you so much. Out of our cohort, you have the best instincts,” Mayumi remarked.

He scoffs. “Sure. Instincts,” he repeats blandly.

“Yeah. You take one look at a patient and your mind’s already running through a list of potential diagnoses. You already know what to do.”

He hums, turning back to his notes, not really having anything else to offer Mayumi. Tired of his standoffish attitude this morning, she finally shuts the clipboard flap of one of her patients’ records and turns her full attention to him.

She asks him point-blank. “Okay, dude…do I have to ask?”

“No idea what you’re talking about, Yumi,” Jungkook says without lifting his eyes off his clinical notes.

Mayumi snorts. “Seriously? You’re going to try and deflect now? After your moping and pouting during rounds?”

He sighs heavily, “I was not moping or pouting,” he protested quietly. He scratches his head, intent on remaining distracted.

Mayumi wouldn’t let up. “Did you not get laid this week or—“

Still not looking up from his notes, he cleared his throat uncomfortably.

Judging by his reaction, her mouth grew into a wide grin. “Ahh…so you did. But something else happened…and that’s why you’re back early, throwing yourself into work so you don’t have to lick your wounds for long.”

He exhales sharply and finally turns to her. “Yumi, it doesn’t matter, okay? Now come on, help me clean up the notes here. Your handwriting is shit, by the way.”

She laughs and stops teasing him but makes a mental note to bring it up again later. Just then, their attending rounds them up again to discuss an ongoing case.

******

Back at the hospital, you were just waiting for all paperwork to be signed and the doctor to give his final sign-off before your dad was free to go.

As you exit your dad’s room, you find Taehyung sitting in the hallway, scrolling through his phone. He looks up and gives you a small smile when you sit next to him.

He looked tired–like he had been up all night. You knew because you barely got any sleep too. You basically just laid in bed, with your eyes closed but still fully aware of your surroundings.

“How are you?”

He chuckled bitterly then sighed. “I’m alive. How ‘bout you?”

You smiled sadly. “I’m alright.”

His smile faded. “Are you, really?”

You shrugged. “It’s not like I can change the past, Tae. But at least I got answers to my questions,” you say wryly.

He lowered his head in his hands and rubbed his eyes. “What a mess I’ve made, huh?”

Your eyebrows knitted at him. “Oh Tae,” you say sympathetically.

“I’m so sorry…”

“Sorry for what? You didn’t do anything.”

“I’m sorry for…not fighting hard enough for you. For not… choosing you.”

You sighed. “Taehyungie, I did not make you choose. I made the choice. I knew how much Haru meant to you. I didn’t want to put you in a tough spot.”

“Still…I feel bad about it. My best friend and my fiancée…I…” He shook his head, at a loss for words. After a long beat, he wonders, “You think she lied to protect Haru?”

“Oh God, no!” Your reaction was instantaneous. “But…if anything? I think that she was protecting your friendship with Haru.” You moistened your lips before continuing. “He was there for you when your mom died. Dad told me back then that he was the only one who could get you talking and playing again. Jennie knows how special that connection was and didn’t want to come between that. And…neither did I when I decided to move away.”

He sighed heavily. “What she did…you know, lying about it? I think what hurt more wasn’t really the betrayal, but it was more the idea of her thinking that I couldn’t handle the truth…or that I didn’t have the emotional capacity to manage my feelings if she had told me about it.”

“Would it have changed your mind about pursuing a relationship with her if she had just told you from the outset?” You asked him.

He pursed his lips and shrugged. “I mean…I don’t know. I obviously can’t answer that now,” he says vaguely. “But…I still would have liked to be given the opportunity to make that decision for myself–instead of her deciding for me.”

You exhaled deeply, silently agreeing with him. “Have you talked to her?”

He shook his head slowly. “She’s texted me some but–I don’t know what to say to her. I…don’t know if I should even talk to her.”

“How come?”

“It just feels wrong,” he says quickly.

“What feels wrong?” You pressed him. As his sister, who loved him unconditionally as if you’d shared the same DNA–you understood that he would stew, go in circles and beat himself up about this unless you made it clear to him that he would not be disrespecting you in any way if he chose to make things work. All you wanted was for Taehyung to be happy.

He shrugged, not wanting to answer the question. “Is it because–you’re worried about how I would feel if you tried to patch things up with her?”

He raised his head and looked at you with sad eyes, confirming your theory.

“Tyeongie…” You tilted your head gently and faced him. “Listen to me. Whatever happened to Haru and I–that’s all done. We were over when I arrived at the beginning of the week and it has remained that way even after the truth came out.”

“But Jennie–”

“Jennie did what she thought was right at the time.” You cleared your throat and decided to tell Taehyung that you spoke to her. “She…sought me out, you know…last night. And we talked. She apologized and…I’ve made peace with it.”

His expression softens.

“You know, you and Jennie–what you two have is the real thing. What she did hurt me, yes. But neither you, me, nor she can change that fact. I see how much she loves you; she takes good care of you; and I see how happy she makes you. I understand that you’re conflicted–she hurt me but you still love her–those are both valid feelings.”

He leaned his head back against the wall and sighed, chewing at his bottom lip. You reached up to him and squeezed his cheek gently, making him smile a little.

“Do you feel differently than when you did back when you made that whole speech about your love for her growing and evolving?” You asked him.

He shook his head quietly.

“Okay so…talk to her,” You urged him. “Answer her texts and her calls. Because trust me,” you clutched your chest, “It would absolutely rip me apart if I took your happiness away from you. What kind of a sister would I be?”

He chuckled. “You know, it’s funny–Jungkook said something similar to me when we spoke, after I dropped him off at the hotel last night. About–feeling torn between two polarizing feelings.”

You forced a smile. The topic of Jungkook was still a sore spot for you. “Well, I guess great minds think alike,” you joked.

He nodded. “Have you talked to him yet?”

You start to internally panic. “Uhm, n-no. He’s…he’s dealing with a complicated case so…I’m waiting for him to come off that. I don’t want to stress him out.”

“I really like him for you, you know. He’s different–I can tell. It’s like…all he wants is for you to be happy. He’s the perfect guy for you. In fact, he couldn’t be more perfect if you’d picked him out of a catalog,” he chuckled.

You gulped, feeling a pang of guilt. You suddenly feel the urge to come clean to your brother.

“Tae–I need to tell you something about Jungkook and I.”

“Hm? And what’s that?”

You let out a shaky breath. “Uhm…J-Jungkook is–

“Freedom!” You are both startled when your dad yells triumphantly as he is wheeled out of his room by your mom.

Taehyung beams as he stands up to approach him, seemingly forgetting about the last thing you said.

You smiled warmly, approaching your dad and crouching down to kiss him on the cheek. He wraps you both in a tight embrace–as if you were still little kids–kissing the tops of your heads.

“Let’s go, kiddos! I’ve been itching to get out of here.”

********

Jungkook

“So…did she not pay you enough or—“

“Geez, Mayumi!” He whispered harshly through gritted teeth, trying to shush her. “Someone could hear you.” He glanced around the cafeteria. It was a few minutes after the lunch rush so it was relatively quiet.

“Dude, I’ve told you before, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’m sure a lot of people here have done crazier, possibly worse things than being an escort to put themselves through med school,” she mutters, before they settle into a table in the corner. She takes a bite of her salad.

//FLASHBACK

Mayumi and Jungkook have spent many nights together during their early med-school years. Jungkook took night classes while he moonlighted as an escort. Some nights, he’d show up to class out of breath, as if he’d just run a marathon–with his hair all brushed up, cologne in full-force. His first question was always, ‘What’d I miss?’

Jungkook wasn’t a slacker. In fact, he was a very diligent student and she didn’t mind filling him in or lending him notes sometimes. She just noticed that he sometimes had poor time management skills. At the time, she didn’t think it was her place to criticize him. She wasn’t his mother. After a while, she really didn’t think much of it until he showed up to class in a suit. She thought it was an isolated incident until he did it two more times.

It was a little jarring for her, to say the least and being inherently curious, she finally asked him about it while they were at the library trying to figure out an assignment.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Uh–sure,” he answered tentatively.

“Do you have, like, another job or something?”

“W-what makes you think that?”

“Oh, you know–you always seem like you’re rushing into class. Sometimes, very formally dressed,” she states.

He chuckled nervously. “I’m sure a lot of us work while we go to night school,” he mumbles.

“Riiight,” she drags out. “Your job seems very high-end, though.”

He scoffed again as he looked up from a medical journal that he was perusing. “Just because I’m in a suit, I’m high-end? I could be working a catering job.”

“Not with those Gucci lace-ups you had the other day, you’re not.”

Jungkook’s eyebrow quirks ever-so-slightly, trying his best not to give anything away.

“What do you know?” He says quietly.

They stare at each other in silence. Mayumi, with a smirk playing on her lips. “I also saw you the other night at the parking lot getting dropped off by a town car.”

“I could have just asked someone for a favor.”

“Mm-hm. How would you account for your thousand-dollar shoes?”

“Consignment store, for all you know,” he argued.

He had a point. Living in a city with a high cost of living rate, if you are patient enough to search, you can find a treasure trove of bougie designer digs. “‘Kay,” she says sarcastically. “What about that Cartier trinity bracelet you have on now?” Her eyes flick downward at his wrist.

He mirrors her action and tries to cover it up with his shirt sleeve. To the untrained eye, it looked like a cheap, plain, nylon corded bracelet. But the metal rings that held it together were gold, platinum, and rose gold–worth way beyond the means of a med student on ‘financial aid’.

“Oh yeah…I like nice things, too, you know,” she smiled. Mayumi may be on financial aid, too–but she appreciated looking at fancy things.

He glared at her and lowered his voice. “It’s not what you think,” Jungkook mutters dismissively and turns his attention back to his medical journal.

They fall silent again. Mayumi’s wheels turning at Jungkook’s answer for each of her queries. ”I have a theory,” she declares.

“Oh yeah? Congratulations,” he says sarcastically.

“My guess? Is that you have a sugar momma.”

Jungkook snorts. “You couldn’t be more wrong.” He tries to sound dismissive but shifts uncomfortably while he turns back to the article that he was reading about ‘palliative care.’

Mayumi sees his discomfort and puckered her lips. “But I’m close, aren’t I? Come on…we’re clearly in this for a few years. I need some sort of excitement in my life other than memorizing a list of infectious diseases alphabetically.”

“Can’t you just pick up a hobby or something? What are you picking on me for?” He says, getting irritated.

“I can keep a secret,” she says to him point-blank. “And…if you want to bum off my notes on the intrinsic cardiac nervous system–complete with detailed illustrations–you have to pay the piper first.”

Honestly, Jungkook didn’t need the detailed illustration–he knew he had much better anatomical drawings than Mayumi. But…he was desperate for those notes. He missed that lesson because one of his dates ran longer than expected so he couldn’t leave in time to make his class. And nobody else cared enough to lend him their notes except for Mayumi.

He shuts the medical journal and looks around to make sure that nobody was listening in. “Fine. But I need you to have an open mind about it, deal?”

She stuck her hand out and he clasps it in a handshake.

//END FLASHBACK

“I’m not ashamed,” Jungkook says as sets his tray down. “I just don’t want my business out there for everyone else to pick apart, you know?”

“Seriously though, how many people can say they barely have any student debt at this stage, huh? You did that,” she points to him. She drags a third chair towards her to prop her foot on it while she continues to dig into her lunch. “I wish I could make a dent in my student loans,” she chuckled humorlessly. “I’m sure Hyunjung is regretting buying me a ring instead of making a loan payment.”

Jungkook snorted. “Please. That guy would move heaven and earth for you. And don’t pretend you don’t love said ring,” he points out before taking a bite of his lunch.

She sighed dreamily. “It is a pretty ring,” she admits. Mayumi and her fiance had just gotten engaged a couple weeks before Jungkook left for his trip.

After a moment of silence and a few bites, Jungkook asks, “Was it everything you hoped for?”

She looks up from her phone at the sound of the question. “What do you mean? Getting engaged?” She regards him curiously.

“Well…that and,” he gestures with his hand vaguely, “…Your relationship in general. I mean, how did you know that Hyunjung was the one? What made you say ‘yes’?”

She takes a moment to think about it before answering. “I mean, I love him, obviously. But—was our relationship everything that I hoped for? The short answer is ‘no,’ if I’m taking your question literally. It’s not everything, because that’s just impossible to achieve and completely unrealistic. I only hoped to find someone who’d love me enough to want to be with me for the rest of their natural life. And if you’re the religious kind, possibly the next life, too.” She answered.

He nods vaguely then chugs his water down, wishing it was a beer or something stronger instead.

She watched him carefully, waiting for him to open up further about how this week went.

“You ever think someone could see past…my past? Like, forget all that existed and just see me for who I am now?”

She smiled sympathetically at him. “Kookie, your past is a part of you. It’s part of your present and will still be part of your future. When you start separating a person from their experiences, that’s when they stop becoming whole. So, if someone can’t accept the whole you, then, maybe they don’t deserve you.”

He pursed his lips and turned pensive.

“I thought she was picking up what I was putting down,” he muttered.

Mayumi smiled triumphantly. “Did you actually tell her how you felt?” She asks.

“I mean…I asked her out,” he answers.

She let out a laugh. “So? That doesn’t mean anything!”

“What do you mean? Asking her out meant that I was showing her that I was interested!”

She rolled her eyes in an exaggerated manner. “Jungkook, unless you explicitly tell them how you feel–despite how obvious you are–an invitation to a date is a prelude. Just enough to garner expectations. Expectations…that may or may not even get fulfilled!”

Now it was his turn to roll his eyes at her but lowered his voice. “Don’t you think I know how to fulfill women’s expectations? Shit, I did it for years! And I have actual written testimonies that prove it!”

She scoffed at his arrogance. “Those were jobs. You were obligated to do it! Now, you’re talking about something in a completely different setting and context.”

“I thought I was being explicit about how I felt,” he argued strongly.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Have you actually been in a serious relationship before?”

“Yes, I have!” He countered.

“And how long ago was that?”

He thought back to his pre-escort days, sighing in defeat. It was quite a while ago.

“Like I said,” Mayumi makes her point in between bites of her lunch. “Is that the reason why you left? I thought you wanted, quote-unquote, ‘one last ride,’” she says, mocking his voice.

He grimaced. “I thought it was going well at first…seemed like we were on the same page.” He balled up his napkin and lobbed it right into the garbage bin.

“And then–I don’t know what happened. It’s like, everything that I had done and told her–it all went to shit. I let my guard down, got all vulnerable, only to have it all thrown at my face in the end.”

Mayumi cocked her head slightly and gave him a sympathetic look. “Have you two talked since?”

He shook his head. Emotions were running high that evening. YN was reeling from her ex and her friend’s betrayal. It was a lot to take in. He knew within him that her anger was misplaced…and he was willing to put that aside until she called him names.

That’s what you are. A liar.

“Our last day ended in chaos, to say the least.”

He goes on to give Mayumi highlights of what happened that day and how emotionally charged everything was.

“So, I just…left,” he finishes.

“Maybe it’s just taking longer for the dust to settle for her. Not to make excuses but, that seems like a lot for one person to take in one night.”

“I get that. I guess…I overestimated the level of trust that we built in those last couple days.”

Mayumi sighed. “Kookie–you can’t expect trust to just bloom within a matter of days. And, can I play devil's advocate here? I get that she started out as a client for you but if you wanted to take things to the next level, I feel like you should have given her a bit more room for error, don’t you agree?”

He pouted his lips and thought about it for a few seconds before begrudgingly acknowledging her point. “I guess.”

“Buuut–I also understand that some hurtful words were exchanged. That’s an equally difficult position to be in.” She eyed him silently. “Welp…it’s like what you always say whenever we stress over a case: if at the end of the day, you’d still rather give up than try, then nothing’s ever going to be worth it.”

He exhales glumly, right before their pagers go off and they start scrambling out of the cafeteria.

******

Days later, you flew back home without incident. When you arrived at the airport, a familiar face welcomed you.

“Hey babe.” Cristina says softly after she pulls up to the curb. She popped her trunk and asked if you needed help with your things. You shook your head gently and proceeded to load up your luggage in the back.

She gave you a smile and a hug when you slid into the passenger seat before pulling into the flow of traffic. It was a 10-minute drive which you spent quietly staring out the window.

You arrive at your home, leaving your things by the doorway. You mumbled your thanks to Cristina before heading straight to your bedroom.

She followed shortly, finding you curled up on your side. You hear her sigh before feeling the mattress sink as she sits on it.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She rubs your back soothingly.

With a sniffle, you answered, “No. Not yet.”

You didn’t see her nod but you felt her lay next to you. She held you for however long that was…until you were all cried out for the night.

******

A few days later, you had just wrapped up an off-site client meeting within the city and were headed to your lunch date with Cristina. She waved you over by the outdoor patio as you came around the block.

“Hey babe! Love that color on you,” she comments on your outfit.

You gave her a small smile. Cristina wouldn’t compliment anyone if she didn’t mean it. It was one of the things you loved about her. You knew you’d made a friend for life when she told you how garish your shoes were during a holiday party with your company partners and subsidiaries.

To be fair, the shoes were an impulse purchase. You had just moved to a new city–barely a month into your new job and was going through one of your waves of homesickness and self-pity. A dangerous combination. You ended up buying these ridiculously bright green Bottega Venetta sandals with curly telephone-cord straps. You were ashamed to admit how much you spent on them. But Cristina, being the great lawyer that she was, came up with a compelling argument to the sales representative at customer service when you returned them.

“Thanks for meeting me. Sorry I’ve been such a lump.” You gave her a quick hug and air-kisses.

“That’s alright. I’m always up for good food and even better company,” she says with a smile after you both take your seat. “Maybe even some juicy conversations, if you are so inclined.”

You laughed. “I thought we were just going to have a nice lunch?”

She gives you a deadpan look. “Come on…you’re due for a good bitch-session. It’s been, what? Close to a week since you got back?”

You shifted in your seat uncomfortably. You remembered the day she picked you up from the airport. You didn’t have the strength to talk about things then. Although you had talked to your family, you couldn’t be as open as you liked...especially about Jungkook, even though you’ve alluded to the situation in every conversation you’ve had with Jimin and Taehyung. Your family had this picture-perfect idea of what your life is like now and were more concerned about you reeling from the big Haru-Jennie betrayal situation–which, if you were being honest, now seems to pale in comparison to your blowup with Jungkook.

Cristina knew everything–everything you wouldn’t dare tell your family. How you fell into a depression after you and Haru split up and the instant regret and resentment you felt when you chose to leave home. She knew about your whole arrangement with Jungkook and from your reaction, would deduce how far things got before it all went to shit. You could be completely open with her and she would listen.

She leans back on her seat and spreads her arms wide. “So, come, come. Lay it on me!”

You looked at her, chuckling. God, you missed her. “Okay well–can we at least order first?” You say, while perusing the menu.

After your drinks and appetizers were served, you went on to narrate how your week started…and ultimately ended. You gave her vague, real-time updates throughout but haven’t been able to fill her in until after your dad’s medical emergency.

“Holy shit,” she breathed out, eyes wide.

“Now you know why I needed some time to decompress.”

She sighed. “Well…seems like you’ve gotten enough pep-talks from your family.”

You twisted your mouth wryly. “I guess,” you say, noncommittal. “Even after all that, I still feel like shit. I couldn’t really talk to them about it because…where would I even begin? And for starters, I haven’t even gathered up the courage to talk to Jungkook and apologize before he left.” Your heart turns over painfully in your chest when you confess your next words to her. “I don’t know how.”

Cristina continued to watch you, listening intently.

“I’m an idiot. I lashed out at him…called him names. I don’t know how I can face him. And–” you paused for a minute–suddenly deciding to switch gears and huffed out, “Maybe it’s better this way, you know? God, how did I think things would pan out between me…and an escort? And I’m not saying it to be judgemental but–he’s…like, perfect, in every way. And I’m…” you chuckled bitterly, “I’m just me. Everyone back home couldn’t believe that I landed him–and, in reality, I didn’t! I’m a fucking fraud, Cris!”

She let you ramble on. Go into your little episode–just to get it out of your system before she hits you with a dose of reality. “Have you forgiven Haru?”

Your little pity party comes to a halt with her question. You sighed and lifted a shoulder. “Yeah,” you say tentatively.

“And Jennie? Have you forgiven her?”

You sighed heavily. “Yes.” You wondered where she was going with this.

“Okay so–you’ve found it in your heart to forgive these people who have wronged you and now you have wronged someone; you’re consumed by guilt because of it. And yet–you’re telling me that you’re afraid to ask forgiveness…because you’re assuming they won’t forgive you?”

“I just told you that I basically dumped a year’s worth of emotional baggage on the guy. A guy who–” You sighed. “A guy who seemed like he was ready to accept me for all of my faults and imperfections. Someone who was actually being honest with me…and I just spat in his face.” You shrugged your shoulders. “Some things are just unforgivable.”

Cristina cocked her head to the side and looked at you, her gaze softening. “And you say that because…you have trouble forgiving yourself, too?”

You stared at her dumbfounded. “Sometimes it’s not that simple. I…have way too many issues…I’m emotionally unstable–”

“Right, but shouldn’t you at least try? Just like your conversation with Tae…try and let Jungkook make that call? Whether or not to forgive you?”

You sighed heavily, shaking your head. “I…I don’t know.”

“Every woman has the exact love life that she wants,” she declares suddenly.

You scrunch your face in confusion. “What?”

“Every woman has the exact love life that she wants,” she repeats. “That’s what my guy told me.”

“Your…guy?” You echoed, still confused.

“Yeah. My guy,” she cocked her eyebrow knowingly at you as she takes a sip of her drink.

When you don't connect the dots quickly enough, she presses on. “Remember my last vacation?”

“Y-yeah–” you say slowly. Cristina took a solo trip not so long ago–she was at an impasse at her job and desperately needed a break. She ended up booking a trip to Europe for two weeks. She regaled you with her shopping haul, food diaries, stories about her swimming in the Mediterranean, and her serene cobblestone street strolls.

“Are you talking about that Euro-fling that you had?” You vaguely remember her glossing over it–amongst other highlights from her trip.

“Yep. I hired him,” she says matter-of-factly.

Your eyes bulge and jaw drops at her revelation. “You said you hooked up at some club in Ibiza!”

“Weeeeell…” her voice dragged and went up an octave. “That was half-true. We did hook up at a club in Ibiza…among the many,” she puffed out her cheeks and exhaled for emphasis, sounding nostalgic, “...many things that we did on that trip.” She bit her bottom lip, wishing she could be transported back to relive those memories.

You recalled a few months ago–right as you were trying to book Jungkook on the app–she mentioned a ‘very reputable source’ who could vouch for the service’s guarantee of 100% satisfaction.

Eyes still wide, you absently picked up your glass and took a big gulp of water. This was hardly a conversation for lunch but–nothing was ever off-limits for Cristina.

“Got the tip from a senior partner–who will remain nameless. And I figured, hey, I’m spending time abroad to relax, take some time to think…but I’m also sexually frustrated so I didn’t mind paying for a hot, attractive man who was guaranteed to worship me while I was doing my soul-searching.”

“Oh my god, Cris!” You almost spit out your water.

She giggled, lifting her shoulders. “What? Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy those perks,” she grinned mischievously at you.

You looked away from her briefly and twisted your lips wryly. She cackled out loud.

When she calmed down, she continued, “Besides, the whole idea of going on vacation with someone, no strings attached…not having to deal with the awkwardness of getting into bed with them and without the exaggerated expectations after? What’s not to like?”

“I’m…kind of shocked but not surprised,” you remarked.

“And not to mention they’ve already been carefully vetted! I felt completely safe with him and had no trouble trusting him.”

You latched on to that last part of her comment. Trust. Safety.

She laughed. “It was great! I mean–not just the sex but, we had some pretty deep conversations, too. One thing he told me was that ‘every woman has the exact love life that she wants.’ And I agree with that assessment.”

You scoffed. “Cris, do you honestly believe that I want to be single and miserable?”

She looks at you point-blank. “When you’re ready to be un-single and un-miserable–to take that leap–then, yeah. You will have the love life that you want. But until then…” she trailed off.

You let out a deep breath, letting her words sink in.

“And you know what? By the end of our…arrangement, we knew where we stood since we both made our expectations clear from the beginning. I get that it’s not exactly the same as your current situation with your guy but–the fact remains–you need to be clear about where you stand. You can’t just leave things like that even if you haven’t really established any sort of relationship. As a person? You at least owe it to both of you to close this loop.”

******

On your way back from lunch with Cristina, you checked your emails on your phone. There was nothing pressing nor did you have any pending meetings scheduled for the rest of the afternoon so you tell your assistant that you’re leaving for the day.

You thought more about her advice. Before everything blew up in your face, you were intent on pursuing this relationship. And truthfully, you still wanted to–you had his phone number, you could very well call him and apologize–and mean it.

You hated how things ended after they were just starting to look promising. You couldn’t just pick up where you left off. You needed to make things right. You decided within yourself that you’d bite the bullet and just call him when you got home. You’d grovel, if you needed to.

Just then, your phone pings with an alert telling you that there is an accident a few blocks away–at the street where you usually make a turn to head home.

You curse under your breath and take the long way home instead. It wasn’t ideal but you also didn’t want to get stuck in traffic when you just wanted to get into your pajamas and curl up on your couch with that nice bottle of rose you had chilling in the fridge.

You take the next exit and stop at the next intersection. This was the reason why you don’t usually take this route–it’s because the lights here take ages to change.

You sighed, tapping your fingers impatiently at the steering wheel, mentally noting how much this neighborhood has changed.

You look right up ahead and see an ‘H’ sign for one of the local hospitals.

Another reason why you didn’t take this way coming home–because ambulances always gave you anxiety.

When the light turns green, you drive straight and approach your detour street. Another light…great. As you wait for it to change, you glance up at the hospital building on the opposite side of the street ahead.

You blink a few times, remembering something. When the cars in front of you start to move, you straighten up on your seat and grip your steering wheel hard–you’re about to pull a U-turn.

******

You sat in your car, hyperventilating in the visitor parking lot.

There really was no logical reason for you to be at this hospital. You thought about reversing the car as soon as you got to the parking lot attendant to claim a ticket–but there was another car waiting behind you so you had no choice but to proceed.

This is insane!

Of course it was. And damn your weird memory–for forgetting routine meetings and other regular run-of-the-mill errands that you had to list religiously on your phone to remind you of them.

But when it comes to random, oddball information that you’ve only glossed over once–things normal people wouldn’t think to ever deem essential in their daily life–you remember. Like, which celebrity has dated whom; who won the Academy Award for Best Actress this year; who designed Beyonce’s dress from 2014…and which hospital Jungkook worked at.

Should you have called first?

Of course you should have. That’s what normal people do. Stalkers randomly showed up at people’s jobs without their knowledge.

Too late now–you were walking through the sliding doors and up to the general information desk.

Maybe he’s not even here. He never got a chance to tell you much about his work–like what shift he worked. It was the middle of the afternoon–he could be in the middle of a procedure. You could leave a note or a message for him.

“Hello, how can I help you?” The staff greets you.

“Hi. Uhm, I’m here to see one of your doctors. Jeon. Jeon Jungkook?” You chuckled to yourself at how that all came out like a ‘Bond. James Bond’ intro.

“Oh, ok. Are they expecting you?”

“Not quite. It’s kind of a…spur-of-the-moment thing and I happened to be in the area.”

Just when the staff starts looking at you suspiciously, you quickly add, “He, uh–helped my dad with a medical emergency recently. Dr. Jeon mentioned that he worked at this hospital but I don’t know what department he’s in. I just–wanted to thank him personally.” You give her your most sincere smile.

She tilted her head, endeared. “Aw–that’s so amazing to hear! I hope your dad’s doing better?”

“He is, thank you. Uh, h-he does work here, right?”

She starts looking flustered and clears her throat. Geez. You know the feeling all too well.

“Yes, he does,” she says, punctuating every word as she checks on her computer. “I just started my shift and he typically leaves as I’m coming in so–he might have left for the day…”

Okay, so maybe you’ll just leave him a message.

“Oh–hang on…I guess he scrubbed into a procedure earlier. Looks like he’s still around for post-op. Would you like me to page him for you?”

You considered it. How would this person code this page anyway? ‘Former disgruntled client looking to make amends?’ Sure. That would go really well.

“Uhm–sure. Maybe just say that a former patient is here to see him.”

“Okay, sure,” she says, keying in your message. “Would you like to know which floor he's on?”

******

You got off the fifth floor elevators, as the receptionist directed you.

Your heart was pounding and weren’t sure if this would work. Would he turn you away? Tell you to fuck off?

You mentally cringed as multiple scenarios raced through your head. You sure deserved it, after everything you unleashed at him that night. Ambushing him at his work would not help your cause.

You wander over to the nurse’s station and find a woman in her scrubs, filling out some paperwork. As you pass her to walk to the waiting area right across, she sees you out of the corner of her eye.

“Hi, can I help you?” She had a friendly smile.

“Hi,” you greeted her back. “I was hoping to talk to one of your staff. I think they paged him downstairs and I was told that I could wait here”

“Oh,” she says. “Are you family or—“

“N-no. He, uh, saved my dad’s life and I just wanted to say thank-you.”

She smiled warmly at you. “How long ago was he paged? I could send him a text so he could get here sooner?”

“There’s no rush, really,” you say to her. “I’m showing up unannounced and he could be in the middle of something.”

Her eyebrows knitted slightly. “Can you tell me again who you’re here to see?”

You cleared your throat. “I’m here to see Dr. Jeon.”

“And–your dad was a patient of his?” She asks slowly.

“N-not quite. We were at a wedding and–he happened to be the only doctor in the room,” you explained.

“A wedding, you said?”

This woman seemed to be awfully curious. You nodded apprehensively. “Yes,” you say slowly.

Suddenly, her eyes light up. “Hold on a minute–I’ll page him again for you,” she says with a slight smile.

“Thank you.”

******

Jungkook

“Hey, Mr. Pyun. How are you feeling?”

“Ah–Dr. Jeon! I feel good as new,” his patient croaks out. He was just transported back to his room after being in recovery for an hour for close monitoring, post-op. “I can’t wait to take my wife dancing after this.

“Aish, let’s not rush things, yeobo,” his wife says.

“I asked her to play some music. My grandson showed me how to use this bluetooth speaker box thing,” he chuckled.

“Good to know the pain medication is working,” Jungkook’s attending remarks.

Jungkook chuckles as he checks on his patient’s vitals while his attending continues to discuss what to expect in the next few hours as her husband recovers.

Call me irresponsible, his patient began to sing along to the track while heavily medicated.

Jungkook pauses his checks as memories flood him. The dancing. The touches. The eye contact.

Don’t go there. Do not go there. You need to forget about her, he thought to himself.

He tried to bury Mayumi’s words but they still kept ringing in his head like the heart monitor pulsing right next to him.

“Yeobo, remember when we danced to this at our wedding?” his patient slurred as his wife gives him a warm smile.

Jungkook’s pager beeps just as he writes down his patient’s last blood pressure reading, effectively pulling him out of his reverie. He reaches around his hip to retrieve it. It was from Mayumi, asking to meet by the nurse’s station.

“Dr. Ahn, could I be excused? Dr. Sakai needs me for a consult.”

“Of course. Nice work today, Dr. Jeon.”

“Thank you, Dr. Ahn.” Jungkook bows to his attending before he leaves the room.

He marches down the hall and towards the nurse’s station. He sees Mayumi standing off to the side, having a conversation with someone whose back was turned at him.

Her eyes flick up at him when she sees him approach.

“Hey, Yumi, what do you—“

The woman she was talking to sees Mayumi look over her shoulder, prompting her to turn around. His eyes widen–like a deer in headlights.

“Hi. Can we talk?”

******

You both sat on opposite sides at the empty waiting area. He was slightly apprehensive at first since neither of you had contact in a few days. Much to your relief, he acquiesced.

“How did you find me?”

“I just remembered–from when you showed me your work badge before. I also happened to get rerouted to this neighborhood because there were some road closures on my usual way home,” you explained.

He nods in silence.

You straightened out, exhaling sharply. “Look, I don’t want to waste your time since you’re probably really busy, and I’m sorry to drop in like this without warning.”

“You could have called,” he interrupts.

You purse your lips and nod. “I could have. But–truthfully, I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me again after…you know, everything.” Nervously, you glanced down at the floor, unable to look him in the eye, trying to forget about all of the awful things you said to him.

You took a beat to compose yourself before looking back up at him. “I’m here because, firstly, I wanted to thank you again for helping my dad. He’s doing much better–as if nothing happened.“ You tried to sound lighthearted about it.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he says softly.

You gave him a small, uncomfortable smile before continuing. “So…a-after you left the hotel, Jennie came to me to clear the air. She explained that you had nothing to do with…the whole situation.”

“I could have told you that,” he says curtly.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I realize that.”

“You can project, you can vent–that’s part of what I do. That’s why I was there for you. But to accuse me? That…seems unfair.”

“I know, and I –I really fucked that up. I was emotional and…” you paused and sighed heavily, “…there’s just no excuse for it. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

He nodded and remained silent, prompting you to continue.

“I wanted to apologize to you, in person. I didn’t think it would come off clearly through text or over the phone. And I know that I can’t take back what I said and I won’t make any excuses for it. My anger was sorely misplaced and I should not have taken it out on you…” You swallowed hard. “...But I did. And I realized that you were put in a really tough position. It was wrong of me to fault you for it without hearing you out. For all of that, I’m sorry, Jungkook,” you finished.

He regarded you intently, letting your words sink in. After a long pause, his face softens and he finally says, “Thank you. I appreciate the apology…and, I’m sorry, too. For the things I said. It was a shitty situation all around.”

You nodded, acknowledging it–although, you weren’t sure if he even needed to apologize since at the time, he was only giving you a reality check.

Feeling completely awkward yet somehow relieved, you took it as your queue to leave. You gripped your purse and stood up from your seat. He gets up as well. “That was all and…thank you for hearing me out.”

You’ve said your piece and can finally start to move on from this. You wanted to say more–all thoughts that Jimin, Taehyung, and Cristina have been drilling into your head...and the money that he left behind.

A few days ago, you thought this relationship held promise but judging by the look on his face, you thought it wasn’t the right time to push that topic. You waited too long and now that window has closed.

“Anyway, I’m–sorry to keep you from work.” You held your hand out to him for a handshake. Odd to be all formal this time around considering everything that you shared…everything that you did together. But you weren’t in that bubble anymore. You were back in the real world.

Thinking he would leave you hanging, you thought of withdrawing your hand but to your surprise, he places his hand in yours, thumb lightly brushing over your skin. The simple touch shot through you like a surge of electricity. Your pulse shot up when his grip tightened.

You maintained eye contact, as if playing a game of ‘chicken.’ Which of you would let go first? He swallowed audibly while you cleared your throat. You decided it was going to be you.

You withdrew from his hold. “I should get going,” you whispered.

“Right.” He kept his eyes on you but his facial expression was unreadable.

Keeping a firm grip on your purse’s strap, you said goodbye to him–for the last time. “Bye,” you breathed out before turning away from him to walk back towards the elevators. You dared not to look back–afraid of what else you might say or do.

When you reached the end of the hallway, you pressed the ‘down’ button. The elevator dings and the doors open. But right before you step in, you hear your name called out.

“YN, wait!”

You turned around to see Jungkook jogging back to reach you. “I’ve got a break coming up…if you still want to talk?”

******

You settled into one of the booths at the hospital cafeteria. It was an odd time so there weren’t many people lingering, save for a couple of hospital staff and random people who wore ‘visitor’ stickers on their clothing.

You noted how completely different he looked in this setting. He was out of his suit, he took his lip piercing out and wore a long-sleeve henley underneath his scrubs, presumably not to distract patients with his ornate tattoos. His hair was brushed back–not with product as you were used to seeing but you figured it stuck to his head like that because of his scrub cap.

“Were you coming from work?” He asks after glancing at your tailored pants and more formal-looking top. He looked relaxed but somewhat tired, leaning against the wall on the side, his legs stretched out on the seat.

“Sort of. I was at the office then met my friend for a late lunch. Afterwards, I didn’t have any other appointments so I decided to call it a day.” You sat hunched over with your elbows resting on the table, wishing you could be as chill as he was.

“The good ol’ corporate world,” he says, tilting his head backwards with a sigh.

“Yeah. Were you coming off a procedure?”

He nodded. “Yeah. It was a little complicated but my patient pulled through. He’s recovering well.”

And you both fall silent again.

“How’s Taehyung?”

Your eyebrows lifted. “Uhm–he’s okay, I think? He still feels a little weird about everything.”

“You think they’re going to work it out?”

You lifted a shoulder while you drew random patterns on the table with your finger. “They might, I don’t know. I…hope they do. But–that’s not really up to me. Tae feels guilty and he’s afraid of how I would react. I’ve told him that he doesn’t need to worry about me. I know that he still loves her and…I know that she does, too.”

“Maybe he doesn’t want to hurt you,” he guesses.

“He hasn’t done anything to hurt me,” you say quietly, still tracing your little patterns. “And even if he decides that he wants to get back with Jennie again–I would never stand in the way of that…they were meant to be,” you said with a sigh, finally looking up at him to find him staring at you.

After a beat, you ask him, “Why didn’t you take the money?”

He chuckled softly. “How many times do I have to tell you–that it’s–”

“Not about the money, I know,” you interjected. “But why?”

He exhales sharply. “Remember my funeral client?”

You nodded, remembering one of your quiet conversations by the beach.

“I stepped back from this business not just because of pressures from this job–although that was a major contributing factor. I was also losing grip on what reality I wanted for myself. I spent several years living this double-life and,” he sighed, “It was exhausting. I didn’t want to do that anymore. So I decided to just focus on this,” he gestured at his surroundings.

“At some point, I was feeling a little burnt out, too. So my friend, Mayumi–she was the one in the scrubs by the nurse’s station–she pushed me to do one final booking. Not just as a change of pace but, so I could figure out what I really wanted.”

You were shocked to find out that at least one person was privy to his secret life. Maybe the double-life was taking its toll and she was the only one who noticed.

“Then I met you–figured I’d get back into it easily–kind of like riding a bike. I’d play another role even though I’d already given you my real name. But on the plane, I thought about it and figured I’d give honesty a try.”

He rubbed the back of his neck and stretched it. “I thought that maybe…the real me would be just as good, as opposed to somebody you just made up.”

You stopped your absentminded fidgeting and gave him your full attention. When you first met, he couldn’t be more perfect–as if you had picked him out of a catalog, just as Taehyung said.

“Maybe I should have just stuck to my day job,” he says dejectedly, swinging his legs off the bench, leaning over the table to mirror you. It was a relatively small table so your faces were only a couple inches away from each other.

“I can’t help thinking that we went about this the wrong way,” you say to him.

He regarded you in curiosity. “What do you mean?”

“I mean–we both started this whole thing off with a lie. You said you wanted to give honesty a try?”

He furrowed his brows. “Yes–and?”

You held your hand out to him again. “Hi, I’m YLN YN.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head before he clasped your hand. “Jeon Jungkook.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say softly.

“Lovely to meet you, too,” he says with a smile.

“So, I know we just met, but I wondered if you’d like to go to dinner sometime?”

He squinted at you. “Hmm–dinner, huh? A bit presumptuous are we?”

“How ‘bout coffee, then?” you proposed.

He playfully twisted his lips to the side. “You invite someone for coffee after you’ve spent the night with them.” He cocked an eyebrow at you.

You scoffed but still kept your good nature. You then deferred to him. “Okay. What would you suggest?” You were aware that your hands were still linked together.

“You’re asking me? I thought you were the one here trying to make amends,” he says, lowering his voice.

“Right, I am.” You pucker your lips, thinking of how else to straighten things out.

“How ‘bout lunch?” He suggests. “It’s in the middle of the day, a fairly neutral setting. It’s not as formal and there aren’t any expectations around it. In the end, we can just continue going about our day.”

You nod in agreement. “Okay. Lunch sounds good. When?” You ask him tentatively. You’re not sure if he’ll bite but thought you’d shoot your shot anyway.

He finally releases your hand. “Hm…I’ll have to think it through. As you know, my job’s a little bit demanding.” You detected a hint of teasing in his tone but didn’t want to read too much into it. You shouldn’t be disappointed that it wasn’t an immediate ‘yes.’ You still had to work for it.

Just then, his pager goes off. Guess his break was over.

You clicked your teeth. “Okay, well–let me know when you’ve thought it through.”

With a nod, he walks you to the nearest elevator before you part ways.

******

A couple days turn into a week. You didn’t want to seem too eager–like you were waiting by the phone but…let’s face it, you were waiting for his call.

Every text, every call that would come in–you hoped that it was Jungkook…but it wasn’t. You started rubbing circles on your temples–a stress headache was brewing. You had to chill out, try not to think about it too much. Maybe if you forget about it, it might happen eventually. You shouldn’t be rushing the process anyway.

Or maybe he changed his mind and was just fucking with you. You did call him a liar.

“Do you want to keep your team check-in for the tourism campaign?”

You glanced up at your assistant, Reena, who peeked her head in through your office.

“Uh–yeah. That’s at 1:30 today, right?”

“Yes,” she replies.

“Sounds good. Can you book the huddle room for me? I only want to meet with key staff, not the whole team.”

She nodded. “Will do.”

“Thank you, Reena,” you call out to her before she walks out.

Your phone rings and you pick it up–it was Cristina.

“Hey,” you greeted her. “Any word yet?” Cristina gets straight to the point.

You groaned. “No. I’m starting to think that he didn’t actually want to have lunch to begin with.”

“Well…you tried, babe, that’s the point. You took a chance.”

You nod absentmindedly. “Yeah, I guess. And I–” you paused as your other line began to ring. You pulled the phone away from your ear to see who it was.

Your eyes widen at the caller ID.

“I have to go, sorry,” you say in a hurry, vaguely hearing her squawking on the other line before you hang up on her.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” Jungkook greets you on the other line.

“Hi,” you say in a slightly higher vocal register. You cleared your throat, trying to calm yourself down.

“Sorry it took me a while to get back to you. Work’s been nuts,” he says apologetically.

“Oh–no need to apologize. I kind of figured you were busy. And I, uhm, didn’t want to bother you either.”

You hear him chuckle softly on the other line. He sounds like he’s enjoying this–but you keep reminding yourself that you have no right to complain. “Anyway, I happened to have a free afternoon. I wondered if you wanted to meet up and grab lunch soon-ish?”

You checked your watch for the time. If you played your cards right, you could head out for lunch for an hour then get back right in time for your meeting.

“But I completely understand if you have plans. We can always reschedule,” he says casually.

“I’m free now. Do you want to meet somewhere?”

******

You practically jump out of your rideshare but compose yourself once you step onto the curb to walk into the restaurant that Jungkook picked. You check in with the hostess by the entrance but spot him waving at you. He was out of his scrubs and in casual, street clothes.

“Hi,” you both say awkwardly at each other then try to figure out whether to shake hands or hug.

He finally decides for both of you and gives you a hug. You inhaled and got a whiff of his cologne. Before all of those memories come rushing back to you, he pulls away.

“How are you?”

“I’m good.”

“Have you been here before?”

“I haven’t but a few coworkers have. They’ve raved about it,” you smiled. “Have you?”

“Yeah. If you want, I can tell you what’s good and what’s not,” he laughs.

“Oh. I’m guessing you come here often?” This place looked a bit fancy for a casual lunch. You wondered if maybe he brought a few dates here.

“I have,” he affirms. You tried to hide your discomfort but were failing spectacularly.

“We don’t need to tiptoe around. It’s just you and me here–having lunch.”

You exhaled and relaxed your shoulders. You didn’t need to overthink this. He purposely picked lunch because it was supposed to be a neutral setting.

“Yeah, you’re right,” you say with confidence.

He smiled at you and proceeded to point out all the good stuff on the menu. You talked about how your days were, how work was, mostly mundane things…as if you hadn’t touched on topics much deeper than those.

But being mundane made it easier for you to get through lunch. You wanted to rebuild that connection and work up to it. You wouldn’t set any expectations. A clean slate was all you could hope for.

******

“Isn’t this nice? Just…getting to talk?”

“Yeah, it was. I’m really glad that you called,” you smiled at him.

Your phone buzzes with a reminder, prompting you to check your watch for the time, it was a little after 1PM. You had a team meeting coming up soon–one that you were supposed to lead but hadn’t even had time to prepare for.

“Do you need to head out?”

“Yeah, I have a meeting at 1:30 back at the office,” you say apologetically.

“Did you drive here?”

“No, I left my car and took a rideshare. I didn’t want to deal with parking,” you explained, while pulling up the app on your phone to book a ride back to work.

“I can drive you back.”

You chuckled nervously. “Oh…I don’t want to impose–”

“You’re not. I’m offering. Besides, I’m off for the rest of the day. I’ve been on-call since yesterday. My boss finally decided to give me a break.” He rubbed his eyes and stretched the kink in his neck.

Your eyebrows lifted. “Uhm, okay. As long as you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” He raises his arm to flag down your server to request for the check.

As soon as they delivered it to your table, you began to bicker over who was going to pay. You had your card out but he kept swatting your hand away. You offered to split the bill as a compromise but when the server returned to your table, he practically shoves his card at them, effectively ending the argument.

******

You directed him as he drove, telling him which cross streets your office was located at while he navigated right through traffic.

The ride was relatively quiet but nice. You stole glances at him every time he asked whether he was making the right turn or on the correct route.

“This is me,” you tell him, pointing to your office building and he proceeds to pull into the curb.

He bends his neck slightly to view the structure from below his windshield. “Fancy building,” he remarks.

You chuckled softly. “Yeah, it’s alright,” you say, eyes drifting down to your hands. You turned your attention to him again after a few seconds. “Thanks for getting lunch.”

“Sure. Maybe next time, you can get it.” He says.

“Next time?” Your eyebrows lifted.

He chuckled enigmatically at your question but he didn't answer it. “It was good seeing you again,” he says with a warm smile instead.

Your heart clenches and you give him a small smile in return. “It was good seeing you, too.” You cleared your throat. “And–thank you for the ride.”

“You’re welcome,” he replies.

You put your hand on the door latch, preparing to leave, but he stops you. “Hey.” You turn to him again. “Yeah?”

“I had fun this afternoon,” he admits. “Yeah, I did too,” you confessed.

He nodded, and you stared at each other–his car still idling at the curb.

“I should…go,” you finally tell him.

“Right,” he says, clearing his throat. After a beat, he says, “We should do this again soon.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” You reply softly.

“I’ll call you.”

You nodded. “You know how to reach me.” With that, you exit his car and walk towards your office building. You looked back to see him still watching you through the rolled down passenger-side window. Before you walk through the doors, you give him a small wave and he does the same. Afterwards, he rolls the window up while his car pulls out of the curb and blends in right into traffic.

******

Right before you head out of the office, you see a bunch of colleagues gathering by the reception area, no doubt heading to happy hour.

“Hey, YN! Want to come with us? We’re checking out that new barbecue place that opened a couple blocks away,” a coworker says.

“Thanks for the invite but, I’m pretty beat. I’d be happy to check it out next time, though. What’s it called?” You ask.

“Oh, I can send you the link to the online menu,” they suggested instead, pulling their phone out to text you the link.

Your phone pings when their message comes through. “Perfect. Thanks! Have fun, guys,” you call over your shoulder before stepping into the elevators.

You scrolled through the menu while the cab descended and found a few items that looked good. When you step out into the underground parking lot, you think of something.

You clicked to text the link and forwarded it to Jungkook then followed it up with a message:

[You] (5:38PM): What do you think? They’re open for lunch? 😊

You closed out of the messaging app and made your way to your car. Once you insert the key into the ignition, your phone buzzes. You fish your phone out of your purse to see a response from Jungkook.

[From Jungkook] (5:42PM): Nice, but I like the dinner selections better. What do you say?

That gave you pause as you flashed back to your previous conversation.

[You] (5:43PM): I thought you said dinner was “presumptuous?”

His response comes in a few seconds later.

[From Jungkook] (5:43PM): It’s only presumptuous if you expect us to have coffee the next day. 😏

You laughed at his cheeky response. Touché.

After today, you realized that you’d rather try than give up…because you found somebody who was worth it.

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