#kim taking his lunch break at home was the only excuse i could come up w for him to have his kineema
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One Day at a Time 🌙 1: I finally get to have you
Yoongi loves to help others. As a professional surrogate, he takes pride in using his body to help families bring life into this world, and love into their homes. But when his high school crush Kim Namjoon hires Yoongi to help him and his wife conceive, things get…precarious.
Or, Omega Yoongi gets bred by Alpha Namjoon and holy shit, does he fall in love.
🐺 Yoongi x Namjoon, established Namjoon x Wheein
🌙 word count: 19.9k
🌙 past acquaintances to lovers, a/b/o, mpreg, infidelity, angst, smut, eventual fluff, slash, nsfw, 21+
🌙 warnings: alpha/top Namjoon, omega/bottom Yoongi; Namjoon is married; Yoongi is a mess, and he cries a lot; a/b/o stuff (mating cycles, lots of scent stuff, wolf instincts, omega slick), angst (hormones raging, pining), a dash of ritualistic sex (it happens in the second act hehehe.)
🌙 note: hello, and welcome to my very first a/b/o fic! full notes on the index, but i wanted to thank @sailoryooons and @sweetestofchaos once more for all the help with this! reminder: infidelity is a big part of this fic, so if you’re not into that, you will not like this!!! take the warnings seriously!!! Yoongi is a mess but he's our mess and we love him. have fun!!!
🌙 written for one shot two shot fest
🌙 thanks to @neoneunnajimin & @sailoryooons for beta reading!
🌙 posted july 2023 | read on ao3
INDEX | NEXT
Yoongi never thought he would see Kim Namjoon again. Once he graduated from high school and the two of them went their separate ways – Yoongi to college in the countryside and Namjoon to marry the rich, pretty valedictorian – he hadn't expected their paths to cross. They had not, in fact, for nearly ten years.
The only time Namjoon ever fully acknowledged Yoongi was all those years ago in school, the week Yoongi first presented as omega. The news was a shock for everyone, most especially himself. Sure, Yoongi never saw himself as an alpha – preferring a softer, quieter life – rarely exhibiting dominant traits of any sort. But he anticipated the neutrality and normalcy of presenting as beta.
First were the hot flashes and overwhelming urge to bury himself in his softest, warmest cardigan. He hadn’t realized he was nuzzling his face into his sweater paws during math period until a classmate beside him asked a sharp, shrill, “What are you doing?” causing him to look up, confused and ashamed.
Yoongi had excused himself to the school nurse, worried he was coming down with some kind of fever, and he practically threw himself at her feet the moment a cramp radiated through his body, knocking him to his knees. He was certain he had food poisoning or some kind of stomach bug – what else could it have been? Certainly, he could not have been presenting as omega.
The nurse excused Yoongi from school through the duration of his first heat, which lasted about a week and a half. And the event itself was hell on earth, but nothing could have prepared him for returning to school. Somehow, everyone knew.
“A boy presenting as omega,” boys would say as they shoved Yoongi around, pushing him against lockers and towering over him like ravenous beasts. “That makes you worse than a girl.”
"He's pretty like a girl, though," one of the boys teased loudly.
“How does your dad feel?” they would ask in mocking tones – some of whom hadn’t yet presented, themselves. “Isn’t he ashamed of you?”
It was during lunch break that Namjoon – the tall, broad, handsome president of his class – came barreling around the corner and growled at those boys to get away from Yoongi.
“I had better not see any of you fucking whelps picking on him or any other omegas,” Namjoon roared, voice firm with authority with his chest puffed high, causing the bullies to scatter.
And although Yoongi had so much he wanted to say, when Namjoon asked if he was alright, all he could do in response was whimper a weak, “Uh-huh,” unable to find his words.
“I imagine this can’t be easy,” Namjoon finally said after a tense moment in the silent, fluorescent-lit hallway. “We can’t choose our circumstances, after all. But we can do our best with what we are given, one day at a time. Take care of yourself, Yoongi.”
And that was it; the only time his and Namjoon’s paths truly crossed. Yoongi would have been lying if he had said the event didn’t spark something inside him – the beginnings of a crush, perhaps – especially when he remembered the warm musk that wafted from the alpha with hints of sweet, kind tangerine and spicy, angry cinnamon.
But that was all it ever was…a crush. As soon as they graduated, Namjoon proposed to his girlfriend, and Yoongi left the city to pursue a life in nursing.
During the last few years, Yoongi has been working as a surrogate, assisting wealthy couples through their difficult times by lending his body to help conceive a child. Although it is always a bit awkward to be a presence in their homes, he enjoys the work. Yoongi likes to help others. The need to comfort and fix people is strong – overwhelming at times.
Naturally, when the call came to help one of the most affluent families in Seoul have a baby, Yoongi did not hesitate, nor did he know what to expect. He had, after all, left Seoul to live closer to his mom's small farmhouse near Daegu, and stopped worrying himself over who any of the wealthier families were.
So, on the car ride to town, when Yoongi read the names Kim Namjoon and Jung Wheein on the paperwork he almost did not believe his eyes. Surely, the Kim Namjoon and Jung Wheein he knew eight years ago could not be struggling with having a child. If anyone would have a happy, healthy, and typical family, he figures it would have been those two sweethearts.
“Earth to Yoongi,” a soft, stern voice calls, pulling Yoongi from his reverie.
Yoongi stands at the foot of the entrance of a rather impressive hanok on the outskirts of the city. He had spaced out during most of the ride, daydreaming about the only time he and Namjoon came face to face. Even now, standing at the man’s front door, he struggles to accept it, half expecting someone else to greet them.
“What does he do for a living?” Yoongi mutters under his breath as he joins his boss, a soft-spoken beta named Park Jimin, near the front door.
Jimin scoffs and shakes his head, causing his fluffy dark hair and shimmering silver earrings to wave back and forth from the motion, as he responds, “He’s the mayor, baby,” while placing a comforting hand on the small of Yoongi’s back – something he does when he expects Yoongi to overreact.
And overreact, he does.
“The may—“ Yoongi half-shouts before Jimin gently shushes him.
“But why—“ Yoongi continues, dropping his voice to a whisper, “—why didn’t you tell me? Jimin, why did you leave that detail out?”
“You know I love you because you’re the best, right?” Jimin asks, rubbing his palm over Yoongi’s back in circles, buttering him up before delivering the truth, as is his way.
“Right,” Yoongi responds slowly, nodding his head while his eyes lose focus on the cinnamon-brown wooden door before him.
“You’re sweet, caring, and very respectful,” Jimin continues, still very much not reaching the point. "Very discrete."
“Okay,” Yoongi huffs, “and?”
With a sigh, Jimin drops his voice lower and leans close, muttering, “I believe they asked for you specifically because you’re a man. They seem concerned about any of this reaching the media, so we have kept it all hush-hush, and I wonder if they do not want to be seen with a woman living in the house for the next year.”
“Oh.”
“The wife, she’s—“
“No, no, I get it,” Yoongi says, feeling a bit sullen.
Being chosen because he is a man is always a bit disheartening. Typically, as far as Yoongi can tell, it comes from the wife worrying that their husband may develop feelings for their surrogate, despite the process typically being a simple matter of collecting sperm and egg from each party and having them placed into Yoongi’s uterus using an in vitro process. At most, Yoongi has to stay in the homestead to carry the baby to term, sleeping with bedding that smells of the alpha of the house. Infidelity has never been an issue. In fact, most households treat Yoongi as if he hardly exists until the baby is finally born.
Yoongi performs his tasks dutifully and with the utmost care and respect, and for once, it would be nice to be recognized for his skills and abilities, and not for his gender. But, Yoongi grins and bears it. He is simply happy to be able to help.
“Ready?” Jimin asks, and Yoongi nods, feeling as ready as he could be, at this point.
Jimin removes his hand from Yoongi’s back, takes a step forward, and knocks on the door. And then they wait. A homestead this size must take a while to traverse through, and Yoongi crosses his hands over his tummy and twiddles his thumbs in anticipation, wondering if Namjoon will even recognize him.
When the door opens, a tall unfamiliar man with wide, curious eyes and short, somewhat wavy dark brown hair greets them with a bow of his head. For a split moment, Yoongi almost wonders if this could be Namjoon – if the names are merely coincidence. But then Wheein – the Jung Wheein Yoongi remembers from all those years ago, with long, dark hair and curious almond eyes – pops up from behind the man and smiles widely, waving them in.
Jimin enters first, then Yoongi, kicking off his sneakers and following as Wheein leads the mystery man, Jimin, and Yoongi through a foyer, past a kitchen, and into what looks like a study. The four of them take a seat on soft purple cushions around a large, low wooden table with a teapot and four cups in the center, with Wheein across from Yoongi and Jimin to his right.
“Min Yoongi,” Wheein beams as she sits high on her knees and reaches over the low table, emitting a calming bouquet of lavender.
Yoongi offers his hands to her, smiling as she takes them and squeezes them between both of hers. There is an unmissable sadness in her eyes, but she smiles widely as she pats his hands before letting them go.
“When I read your name on the list of potential surrogates, I just knew it had to be you,” she continues, taking Yoongi by surprise. He and Wheein have never, to his knowledge, said a word to one another.
“You did?” Yoongi asks, deep voice trembling slightly as he settles his hands over his knees.
Wheein nods enthusiastically while the man to Yoongi’s left begins to pour tea for the four of them.
“I just had a feeling. You went into nursing, right? You like to help others?”
With a demure nod, Yoongi says, “Yes,” surprised to find Wheein remembers him, and that she knows details of his life. He dreads the thought that Namjoon might, as well.
“I just knew you would be perfect for us,” she continues as her eyes travel to the man sitting at Yoongi’s left. “Don’t you think so, Jeonggukie?”
The man nods his head once, eyes fixed on Jimin as he mutters, “Yes, Wheein-ssi.”
“This is our in-house help, Jeon Jeongguk,” Wheein says, patting the hand of Jeongguk, who responds, “Lovely to meet you,” without taking his eyes off Jimin.
Yoongi mutters a greeting under his breath but does not bother trying to get the man’s attention; he is more than aware of the effect Jimin has on others. Instead, Yoongi picks up his small ceramic tea cup and holds it to his lips, blowing on it slightly before taking a sip. The faintly-earthy taste of herbs and leaves covers his tongue with warmth, instantly soothing at least some of his worries. Certainly not all of them.
“Sorry Namjoon couldn’t join us,” Wheein says with a hint of annoyance in her voice, cracking a smile that looks forced and does not reach far. Earthy, bitter hints of patchouli hang in the air as she chuckles under her breath as she mutters, “Gods forbid he leaves his precious office for one fucking meeting with our surrogate.”
Yoongi shifts on his knees and takes another sip from the cup. Meanwhile, everyone around him lifts their cups to drink, and he is relieved to see Jimin’s spell on Jeongguk seems at least temporarily be broken, allowing the three of them to have a conversation with Jeongguk present and quiet.
“I figure that for the first week, you’ll stay by my side and bond with me a little,” Wheein begins, surprising Yoongi with how suddenly she wants to get down to business, “and then we’ll knock you up and have you stay in a guesthouse that is scented like Namjoon so that the baby knows who his or her daddy is.”
“Pretty standard stuff,” Jimin mutters beside him, and Yoongi smiles as he nods along.
Wheein’s candor feels welcoming to Yoongi. The last two couples he worked with were rather depressed and embarrassed to need assistance with having a baby. It is his hope that, in the next ten or eleven months, he and Wheein can become close friends, making his stay in the large homestead a little less lonely.
"Do you remember Namjoon at all?" Wheein asks eagerly.
Yoongi glances over the teacup that he holds near his mouth, breathing in its comforting aroma, and he screws up his face just slightly enough to seem impassive as he shrugs and says, "The name sounds familiar. Perhaps when I see him, I will remember."
A lie, of course. If Yoongi thinks hard enough, he can remember precisely what Namjoon smelled like the day they spoke. He thinks, faintly, that Namjoon may have even had a mole or two on one of his cheeks, and has never forgotten his dimples.
"Do you need some time to consider the job, or would you like to move in tonight?” Wheein asks once the four of them have had a chance to discuss specifics a little more and finish the pot of tea. “We will want to go over a few specifications on the contract once everyone is here, but it should be pretty standard."
"I can move in right away," Yoongi says without giving it any thought. The sooner they get started, the sooner it can be all over with, he reasons. He already has a suitcase packed and waiting in the car.
"Wonderful," Wheein says as she stands and waits for Yoongi to do the same.
Once Yoongi is on his feet, Jimin bows and wishes him well, saying they will meet again tomorrow when Namjoon is around to go over the contract. Jeongguk leads Jimin back out to the front door, standing quite close and muttering quietly as the two of them leave the room together.
"I can't wait for the two of us to become best friends," Wheein says sweetly as Yoongi steps from the table and joins her at her side, allowing her to wrap an arm around his waist and pull him into a side hug.
The smile that creeps over Yoongi's lips is genuine, and he allows himself to be hugged, lifting an arm to delicately caress her back for just a moment. He familiarizes himself with her scent of lavender with hints of patchouli – sweet with an undercurrent of spice and wet soil.
Wheein leads Yoongi into a large kitchen and sits him at the tall white marble counter. Yoongi marvels at the blend of traditional and modern, with the general foundation of the hanok resembling what it may have centuries ago despite the marble counters and stainless steel appliances.
"Let's make a list of all the things you love to eat, especially when you are in heat and when you are pregnant."
Although Yoongi cannot imagine why he would need to accommodate a heat cycle, he rattles off everything he can think of, making sure bases are covered. There is a chance that his pregnancy cravings will be similar to those he gets while in heat, once they inject the little cub cells into his uterus and the growing begins.
He also makes note of some herbs that he needs to avoid in order to not counteract the heat-blockers he takes, and Wheein smiles to herself as she circles ginger, ginseng, and sage while adding three large exclamation marks next to the words to signify what he must avoid.
About an hour passes with Yoongi and Wheein chatting in the kitchen about food, being pregnant, and anything else Wheein thinks of. She is great company, offering Yoongi white wine and keeping his glass topped off as they talk. He feels hopeful about his stay in her house, looking forward to getting to know her more as she opens up.
And then Namjoon returns home, and things…shift. It is subtle, but noticeable. Wheein's voice quiets when the front door opens, and she keeps her eyes on the foyer once the sounds of shoes getting kicked off thuds one after the other.
"Someone here?" a deep, familiar voice calls, causing Yoongi's skin to break out in goosebumps, and Namjoon steps around a corner, stopping in his tracks when he meets Yoongi's gaze.
Namjoon is just as tall as Yoongi remembers, and quite a bit more built, chest and arms bulging against the thin white shirt that covers him, which is tucked into fitted grey slacks. His hair is overgrown into a bit of a dark mullet, and he shakes it from his warm, sharp eyes, only for it to fall back in place again.
"Oh," he says. "It's you."
Yoongi opens his mouth to respond, lifting a hand to wave, but Namjoon mutters, "Should the two of you really be drinking?" while walking in the opposite direction, toward a hallway that Yoongi surmises must lead to the master suite, or perhaps to an office. The familiar scent of warm musk wafts through the air, with faint hints of cinnamon, and as soon as it is there, it is gone again.
Wheein lets out a petulant, "Humph!" and grabs the bottle of wine, dumping the rest of its contents between their two glasses as if in protest to Namjoon's question.
Then, as soon as the man of the house is down the hallway and disappears into a doorway off to the left, her face brightens once more, and she continues asking Yoongi about childbirth as if nothing had happened. Wheein is a curious woman, eager to know every gritty detail from cell growth to carrying a baby to term. And although Yoongi finds the process a little disgusting, he gladly answers all of her questions.
Tipsy from drinking and only having snacked on crackers and tiny slabs of cheese, Wheein decides that the night is over once the glasses of wine are empty. She takes Yoongi by the crook of an elbow and leads him over to the hall in which Namjoon disappeared.
"Bedrooms are here," Wheein says, waving her hand in the general direction of five doors – two on either side of the hallway and one at the far end. "That one on the end—" she points straight ahead, "—is the bathroom. And this—" she places her palm on the first door on the right and presses it open, "—is your bedroom. The bedding smells faintly like Namjoon so that you can get used to it. Hopefully you don't find it too unpleasant. In the morning, Park Jimin-ssi will return and we will go over the contract."
Yoongi nods along, smiling while staring ahead at the bathroom door, trying to imagine which door on the left Namjoon went through. Not that it is any of his business – nor should he care – but he is…curious. The Namjoon he encountered all those years ago seems so different from the terse man who Yoongi hardly caught sight or whiff of tonight.
"S-sounds good," Yoongi finally responds, and Wheein pulls him into a half-hug from the side before letting him go and walking straight across the hall, opening that door just enough to slip inside, and closing it softly behind, taking the lavender with hints of patchouli with her.
Yoongi hesitates a moment – hovers in place and holds his breath as if to listen for any sound to come from Namjoon through that door. But all is still, and Yoongi shifts left to right on his feet before turning to the guest room and feeling around the wall for a light switch.
The room is furnished with a bed, bedside table, dresser and mirror, and a wall-mounted television. Beside the dresser is Yoongi's suitcase, which he surmises Jeongguk must have brought inside, and above the suitcase is a large window. Yoongi approaches his suitcase, lays it down, and unzips it, finding a set of light blue pajamas, and running his fingertips over the soft flannel material as he looks around, taking in the sight of his temporary home.
How did he end up here, he wonders. Standing in the mayor's home – Kim Namjoon's home – wine drunk with Jung Wheein, the valedictorian who Yoongi was certain until this point had never been aware of his existence.
As he sheds his clothing and gets dressed in the pajamas, sleep begins to claw at Yoongi, pulling his subconscious down, and making him want nothing more than to crawl under the covers. He picks his clothing up from the floor, approaches the dresser, and tosses the garments into a small pile in the corner.
Outside the room, he thinks he hears the sound of a floorboard creek, and he stands still, listening for more movement. Seconds pass, heavy and full of anticipation, and Yoongi could swear the scent of tangerine and warm musk fills his senses, making him sway slightly where he stands.
But then, he reasons that it must just be the bedding that Wheein said would hold Namjoon's scent, and he brings his drifting thoughts to a stop, making his way to the bed and pulling the pale yellow covers aside to climb under.
Only in his wildest dreams would Namjoon be in the hallway, filling the space with more of his calming scent, and Yoongi tells himself that he needs to snap out of it and come back to reality before he gets too caught up pining for a married man he hardly knows.
But, for now, he shuts his eyes and allows himself to imagine.
Yoongi is barely alert, sitting at the tall dining table nursing a steaming cup of black coffee when Namjoon enters the room in what Yoongi surmises is his standard work uniform of a white button-up tucked into grey slacks, taking a seat to his right. The coffee is peculiar, giving off an herbal scent that Yoongi cannot quite place, but it is not unwelcoming, and he gulps some down, feeling his nerves spike.
Wheein sits in front of him, and to his left, Jimin is present and far too perky and alert considering the ungodly hour, wearing a pair of wire-framed glasses that rest at the end of his nose and a white button-up tucked into black slacks. The house-help Jeongguk, who is dressed in all-black casual clothing, busies himself in the kitchen.
"Now that we are all here," Namjoon begins, voice hoarse and far deeper than Yoongi remembers, causing the little hairs on his arms to stand to attention, "we have the final draft of the contract to look over."
Namjoon slides a small stack of papers to the center of the table, which Jimin shifts forward to collect, and their scents collide somewhere in the middle – warm musk, lilacs, tangerines, and a salty hint of sea breeze. Yoongi feels a wave of dizziness hit him, and he sits back, letting his coffee cup thunk a little too hard against the restored wooden table.
A delicate hand reaches over, tapping him on the wrist and adding tangy patchouli to the ever-engulfing blend of aromas, and Yoongi's eyes snap upward to find Wheein smiling with her brows knit.
"Are you alright, my dear?" she asks, and Yoongi nods, swallows a lump, and mutters, "Fine. S-still waking up, I guess."
Heat prickles under every inch of skin that is covered with clothing, making Yoongi shift uncomfortably and yearn for cool air or a nice cold shower. It is almost as if a heat is coming on, which is impossible, because of the medication he takes to block it.
"The only order of business in this contract that should differ from how your company ordinarily proceeds," Namjoon continues, ignoring the exchange between Yoongi and Wheein, "is the method of becoming pregnant."
At this, Yoongi sits alert and turns to Jimin, who is looking over the contract with too trained of an expression. Something is absolutely off, and Yoongi's heart begins to pound wildly in his chest.
"D-different method?" Yoongi asks, feeling as if the room is spinning and too fucking warm.
"My family is very…let's say…traditional," Namjoon clarifies, and Yoongi turns to him with wide, worried eyes, only to find that he is staring ahead at the table with a somewhat distraught look on his face. "Any insemination and childbirth practices need to be performed as rituals to the old gods and the new…if you catch my drift."
At this, Namjoon's eyes lift, but to Jimin, across from him. Yoongi turns sharply and finds his boss looking up at Namjoon before his eyes trail to Yoongi. A cloying mix of calming aromas wafts from every side of Yoongi, and he practically gags on it.
"Yoongi, baby," Jimin utters softly – sweetly, as if he knows that the information he has for Yoongi is going to send him into a tailspin. Only, Yoongi is already in a tailspin because he has just been told that, in order to perform the duties which he has been hired to perform, he and Namjoon are going to have to— "Are you still with us?"
"Did you…do something to my coffee?" Yoongi asks against his better judgment, feeling nausea creep at a rapid pace, clouding his vision in the corners.
At this, Wheein slams her hands on the table and stands, sending her chair grinding backward while shouting, "What did you just say?"
"I'm s— I'm sorry," Yoongi tries, placing his palms face-down on the table and gripping tightly to the edge. He feels like he might vomit, and he needs to find his way out of this conversation.
"How dare you accuse us of such a thing!" Wheein continues, voice fading in and out as if Yoongi's head is bobbing above and below water.
"Sir," Jeongguk speaks softly, placing a hand on Yoongi's shoulder that feels too hot to the touch. "Could this reaction possibly be from the herbal blend?"
"H-herbal blend?" Yoongi asks, feeling panic quake through him.
Yoongi's mouth feels terribly dry, and he picks up the coffee, pulling it to his lips and gulping the tepid bitter liquid down. Perhaps he should ask for water instead, but his body is drenched, his mouth is parched, and he can hardly form his thoughts coherently enough to turn them into words. He can practically feel a new layer of sweat break over his forehead, and he sets the cup down with shaking hands while reaching up to push the overgrown dark brown hair away from his forehead.
Jeongguk hums and says, "The herbal blend that Wheein-ssi likes me to add to her coffee and tea contains extract of ginger, ginseng, and sage. I saw that on your list and assumed you would like more than what was added to your tea last night, so I gave you twice the amount."
The sweat that covers Yoongi goes cold, and he sits up suddenly, knocking the wooden chair onto its back in the process, glancing up at the occupants of the table to see if perhaps this is some joke they are playing on him. Jimin appears horrified, Namjoon stares down at the wooden table, and Wheein's eyes widen. She looks to Jeongguk with knit brows, shaking her head in small movements, and something in her expression suggests he should not have said what he just said.
"But, Wheein-ssi, your list—"
"Jeonggukah, those were items Yoongi was not supposed to consume!"
"But we want him to go into heat, so he becomes pregnant," Jeongguk continues innocently, forcing Yoongi to spin on the balls of his feet to stumble out of the room.
The air is stifling, the room is spinning, and Yoongi is going to vomit any minute. He fumbles toward the hallway, stepping through the threshold just in time for the corridor to stretch impossibly long. Before he knows it, he is on his hands and knees, barely aware of the feeling of his impact against the floor, doing his best to crawl to where he needs to go.
"Alright, you," Jimin's voice greets Yoongi, causing tears to well in his eyes. "Let's get you on your feet."
Yoongi feels embarrassed, having made a terrible impression on the family for which he has been hired to surrogate. Surely, someone like Namjoon is not going to want a weak, sniveling omega in his home, carrying his child. And the idea that Yoongi will have to do everything the traditional way sends a new set of fears quaking through him.
Despite his line of work, Yoongi has never had sex with an alpha. He has never experienced a knot, nor has he been marked in any way. Everyone at the clinic assured him that folks these days do not tend to have traditional pregnancies, so Yoongi assumed it would not be an issue. Or, at the very least, he assumed the conversation would take place before he was sat in their home, drinking their herbal-infused coffee.
Yoongi smells the musk before he feels two large hands lift him, and he yelps when he is suddenly up on his feet with his arm draped over the muscular shoulders of Namjoon, who is crouched forward to accommodate his height.
"Bathroom is straight ahead," Namjoon mutters, and Jimin scurries forward, opening the door and switching on a light while Namjoon assists Yoongi in walking down the hallway.
The musk is far more overpowering than anything Yoongi has experienced, radiating from Namjoon's neck and armpit, blanketing him in warm intoxication, and Yoongi leans his head to the side, eager for more. He wonders what Namjoon's sweat must taste like, licking his lips at the thought.
But then Namjoon gets him through the doorway and maneuvers him against the sink with his butt resting against cold marble, and he slides away, taking much of the musk with him, only allowing hints laced with cinnamon and tangerine to linger.
Yoongi can hear rustling – the opening and closing of a cabinet door and the running of water behind him – all while the blend of scents from Namjoon and Jimin mingle and dance through the small space. Yoongi's eyes rest closed, and he breathes deeply in through his nose, letting the air escape shakily through his mouth.
"I didn't mean to accuse—" Yoongi begins, but Jimin shushes him at the same time a cold cloth is pressed against his forehead.
"I imagine all of this is…a lot for you," Namjoon says softly, taking Yoongi by surprise. He expected Jimin to be the one with calming words, not the gruff alpha who hasn't so much as looked him in the eyes since their so-called meeting began.
Yoongi keeps his eyes closed, determined not to ruin the moment. If this is the only way he can get the man to speak to him, then so be it.
"I really like Wheein-ssi," Yoongi continues, knitting his brows beneath the cold cloth. It feels nice and pulls him from the jumble of physical and emotional overstimulation, grounding him somewhat while his own scent of chamomile engulfs and calms him. "I hope that I didn't hurt her feelings."
"We'll talk more once you're feeling better," Namjoon says.
Yoongi wants to open his eyes and look at the man – really search his expression for how he must be feeling – but he keeps his eyes closed and lets out a deep exhale.
"If you change your mind about doing this—" Namjoon continues, and Yoongi shakes his head.
Long ago, when Yoongi was too weak to stand up for himself, Namjoon was the one who helped him. Namjoon was his beacon of hope in a dark, confusing time, and Yoongi wants to repay him in any way he can – in the only way he can.
"I won't change my mind," is all he can bring himself to say, eager to keep his emotions at bay, lest a spike in pheromones tattles on him. At some point, he and Namjoon are going to need to have a conversation.
There is the question of why Wheein never said anything last night, when she and Yoongi were making their list. She had to have known that the three ingredients that Yoongi stressed he could not have were in the herbal blend that he presumes has been added to both his tea and his coffee. Was she hoping to force Yoongi into a heat cycle as soon as possible?
Whatever the reason, Yoongi is concerned, but he is certain that her intent could not have been malicious, and so he lets it go. Perhaps they will discuss it down the line, but for now, he just wants to lie down. He has no idea how long it may take for the herbal mixture to induce a heat, and he is not eager to be standing in the bathroom with his boss and an alpha who he hardly knows, when the time comes.
The herbal blend causes Yoongi's entire system to go haywire quickly. Perhaps it is because he only allows for a heat to come after giving birth before continuing on the blockers – about once a year – making his body desperate for a cycle, but he hardly gets through the afternoon before every inch of him yearns for Namjoon.
The alpha's scent on his bedding drives Yoongi wild, and he rubs his face against his pillow almost frantically, letting out soft whimpers and growls when it is not enough to stave his desires. There is a part of him that wonders if anyone might be able to overhear him, and shame simmers just beneath his skin. But he is so overcome with desperation that he cannot bring himself to care very much.
Yoongi must fall asleep at some point, because a light knock at the door rouses him, causing him to sit up with a start, groaning and wiping drool from his chin.
"Yoongi-ssi?" Jeongguk's voice calls through the door. "Would you like to join us for dinner?"
Although Yoongi would like nothing more than to eat something, and to sit in the presence of Namjoon’s inviting scent, leaving the room and being present in front of everyone feels daunting, at best. Overwhelming. He is not ashamed of his body's natural functions, but he feels hesitant to encounter people he hardly knows when his hormones are running amuck.
Another soft knock comes, and Yoongi clears his throat before hoarsely shouting, "N-no thank you."
After a pause, there is another knock at the door, but this one sounds different – more purposeful.
"Yoongi?" Namjoon calls. "Can I come in?"
Suddenly, faced with the prospect of being in Namjoon's presence makes Yoongi panic, and he curls in on himself, tugging the yellow comforter over his body and up to his chin.
"I—" Yoongi calls back, eyes searching the room aimlessly while he tries to think of something to say. "Now isn't the best time."
Yoongi is unsure if he hears a sigh on the other side of the door, and he listens for an indication that Namjoon has walked away. To his chagrin, Namjoon responds.
"Are you indecent? Can I at least crack the door open?"
"Fine," Yoongi replies, screwing his eyes closed to take a deep, fortifying breath.
The door opens a few inches, and with the head of the bed against the same wall, Namjoon only has to peek in a little for their gazes to meet. Although it is subtle, Yoongi sees Namjoon's nostrils flare and eyes widen.
"I'm—" Yoongi feels apologetic and shy, "s-sorry, I guess my heat has come."
"Don't apologize," Namjoon responds, voice sounding a bit hazier than Yoongi is used to. "Just wanted to make sure you don't need anything. I can have Jeongguk bring you some food and a cup of tea. Do you usually take any medications?"
"I don’t usually take medicines," Yoongi responds softly. Ordinarily, he gets the typical hot flashes and neediness; cramping is rare. He tends to it by holing up in his apartment and drinking herbal teas that quell some of the more primal instincts; he has no idea what it is like to go into heat surrounded by the alluring stench of an alpha. "Do you have any hibiscus tea?"
Namjoon's face disappears, and then Jeongguk appears, making Yoongi clench onto his blanket in disappointment.
"Hibiscus tea, got it." Jeongguk responds. "I can make you a pot of kimchi soup if you would like?"
Although Yoongi would rather turn away the offer of anything more than a cup of tea, already feeling like a burden in someone else's home, the thought of the tangy, rich broth and a bowl of steamed rice makes his stomach growl loudly.
"That would be nice," Yoongi responds, squeezing his eyes tight to the sound of the door closing quietly. "Thank you."
Yoongi has no idea how long it takes for Jeongguk to return. It feels like only seconds pass, yet some of them could have been stretched for eons. The atmosphere around Yoongi is thick with tense confusion and desire, and he has no fucking clue how to proceed.
A knock at the door startles Yoongi, and he sits up, pushing and kicking the yellow comforter away, embarrassed by how his body oozes with the heady scent of pomegranate, tangy and clinging to the air with trace amounts of chamomile. His limbs wobble, heavy and shaking like a tree caught in a storm, and it takes him a moment to catch his breath once he is on his feet.
"Just a second," Yoongi grumbles, adjusting the white tee that has come untucked from his fitted light blue jeans. The materials cling to him, and he avoids checking his reflection in the mirror across the room.
Yoongi opens the door a crack, just enough to see through. He does not miss the way Jeongguk's nostrils flare and eyes widen as he takes in the state of Yoongi. And although he feels embarrassed suddenly to be perceived this way, he swallows a lump and opens the door further to reach for the tray in Jeongguk's hands.
"Why don't you let me bring it in?" Jeongguk offers, making Yoongi feel even more put on the spot than before. But Jeongguk has a good point. After all, the tray contains two items storing hot liquid, and Yoongi is just jittery enough to make the task extremely precarious.
Yoongi nods and grumbles, "Oh–okay," as he takes a step back and allows Jeongguk to enter the room, closing the door quickly behind him. He is not eager for Namjoon or Wheein to smell him in this state – not until he can shower.
"Your heat must have come on fast," Jeongguk states evenly as he walks to the bed and places the tray on top. It is wooden, with four small legs, creating a nice little table atop the ruffled comforter. With him, a light floral scent carries through the space.
"Yeah," Yoongi responds sheepishly, hugging his arms around himself. "I use the same herbal mixture to induce a heat once a year, and typically only one cup of tea does the trick."
Jeongguk turns with wide eyes, repeating, "Once a year?"
"Typically, my job is done in vitro," Yoongi explains, eyes trailing around the room, unable to settle on one spot. "I find that it is best if my hormones are kept under control. I only induce a heat once the baby has been delivered, to help my body restart, and then I take heat-blockers once the cycle ends."
"Ahhh," Jeongguk mutters. "Well, I am quite used to helping Wheein-ssi through her heats, so if there is anything you need, don't be shy."
Yoongi is surprised by this information. Shouldn't the alpha of the house be helping Wheein? Jeongguk – who, Yoongi surmises, must be a beta – seems like lovely help, but is he really capable of helping Wheein with all of her needs? The man hardly has a scent, only radiating hints of something sweet and floral that Yoongi cannot place.
"Thank you, Jeongguk-ssi," Yoongi responds with a bow of his head. "I appreciate all you have done for me, already."
Silence hangs, and when Yoongi glances up, it seems as if Jeongguk has more that he would like to say. He stares ahead, clearly processing something, with his lips hanging slack. But then he blinks heavily and gives his head a little shake before saying, "Also, when you are ready to, Namjoon would like to meet with you to go over the contract and discuss a timeline."
"Oh," Yoongi says, realizing they never finalized it earlier. "Yes, of course."
"His phone number is on a little slip of paper, sitting beside your rice," Jeongguk instructs with one more bow of his head. "Please text him at your earliest convenience."
Texting Namjoon rather than knocking on a door seems somewhat silly, but Yoongi does not argue. He supposes he is grateful to have a simple way to get in touch with him that also allows for there to be some distance.
Jeongguk exits the room, closing the door quietly behind him, and Yoongi lets out a deep breath and rubs his sweaty palms against his jeans. The smell of the soup and tea dance beautifully, covering enough of Namjoon's lingering musk to allow Yoongi's head to clear as he approaches the bedside table and picks up his phone.
He settles slowly onto the bed, careful not to jostle the tray, and finds the small piece of paper with a phone number scribbled on it. The numbers are clean with very straight lines and circular loops, and Yoongi lifts it before he can think better of it, sniffing the paper, picking up hints of tangerine and cinnamon. So this is Namjoon's handwriting, Yoongi thinks, inspecting it closer. It looks nice.
A soft haze settles over Yoongi – a humming that vibrates just below his skin – and he takes a slow breath as he begins to punch Namjoon's number into his phone. He considers all the things he could say to the man, worrying in circles over whether he should apologize for his entire existence. In the end, he settles for something simple.
Yoongi
Hello, Namjoon-ssi. This is Yoongi. Jeongguk-ssi mentioned you wanted to talk with me.
With a tremble in his hands, he sets his phone down and begins to eat. Jeongguk brought kimchi soup, rice, glass noodles, and a cup of hibiscus tea, and everything is flavored perfectly – savory with tangy and sweet notes here and there, the way mom makes it. Although the soup and tea are both hot, they soothe Yoongi, putting his hot flashes at bay. He is nearly done with his meal and feeling much calmer than before, when his phone vibrates.
Namjoon
Yoongi-ssi, I would like to meet at your earliest convenience. No rush; eat first.
Yoongi has to scoff at how stuffy Namjoon seems, even over text. He supposes he is the one who set the tone in the first place, but he has to wonder if the detached alpha would text the same way, regardless. Yoongi nibbles on the inside of his cheek, deciding what would be best. On one hand, he hates to keep someone waiting, but on the other…he cannot decide whether he wants to face Namjoon smelling the way he does.
Yoongi
Perhaps after I freshen up a bit? A fever hit earlier, and I am not at my best.
Before Yoongi has a chance to set his phone down, it vibrates; he is surprised by how quickly Namjoon responds.
Namjoon
Of course. Take your time! I usually go for late jogs, so if I am not in the house, I'll be out back. You are welcome to join me if you would like.
Namjoon's hanok is situated at the end of a suburban area, with enough land between his place and the nearby houses to have seclusion. Perfect for an alpha who likes to let off some steam in a bit of nature. Although Yoongi does not jog often, the primal part of him loves to get lost in the thick of trees, listening to branches crunch underfoot while he exerts himself and lets his worries breeze away. Perhaps jogging with Namjoon is just what he needs.
Yoongi
A jog would be nice. I'll shower now and join you in just a bit.
Namjoon
Sounds good.
Yoongi makes quick work of finishing his food, suddenly feeling excited at the prospect of getting some fresh air. He grabs a pair of black joggers and a black tee, and leaves the room, turning briefly to see Wheein and Jeongguk sharing a glass of wine in the kitchen. He wonders if Namjoon is already getting dressed and waiting, and scurries to the bathroom at the end of the hall, closing the door tight behind him and switching on the light.
Yoongi peels the sweat-drenched clothing away and drops them into a pile on the floor, then figures out the knobs of the shower, setting the water nice and temperate – not too hot – before slipping in. The water is a warm embrace, instantly shedding some of Yoongi's anxieties, and he smiles to himself, tipping his head back with his eyes closed, allowing the steady spray to wash over him.
After a few calming moments, Yoongi peeks his head from the shower curtain to find small cloths folded on a shelf at eye level and grabs one, then assesses the bottles for body wash. To his surprise, everything smells like chamomile or tangerine, making Yoongi chuckle. He wonders if it is a coincidence or if they planned for this. Had Namjoon remembered what Yoongi smelled like, after all this time?
Yoongi scrubs his body with chamomile, then washes and conditions his hair with tangerine. Once he is satisfied, he stands under the stream with his eyes closed for another twenty seconds or so, then shuts off the water, pokes an arm past the shower curtain, and grabs a large towel from the same eye level shelf. He dries off quickly, then changes into his clean clothing and shoots a text off to Namjoon.
Yoongi
Just finished showering. Are you inside or outside?
Namjoon
I’m still inside. Meet in the hallway?
Yoongi
See you there.
Yoongi brushes his teeth and slaps some moisturizer on his face – beauty products courtesy of Namjoon and Wheein – then hangs up his towel and grabs his discarded clothing, which reek of tangy pomegranate. He scrunches his nose, tired of smelling it.
When he exits the shower, Namjoon is standing in the hallway, and the sight of him makes Yoongi halt in place, nearly tripping over his feet. He wears a tight black tank top and black athletic shorts that stop mid-thigh. And oh, Namjoon's thighs…He knew Namjoon was ripped, but seeing him in athletic wear is something else altogether.
Yoongi has to force his eyes up and tell himself that staring is impolite. But the man is built like a sturdy tree that Yoongi finds himself wanting to climb — a dangerous thought, and one he brushes off as a product of his heat.
He is relieved to find Namjoon turning his attention from the phone in his hands to him only after he finishes ogling him, and Yoongi clears his throat quietly before making his way down the hall.
"Just gonna toss these clothes into the room quick," Yoongi mutters as he approaches.
Namjoon regards him with a brief nod, then continues typing on his phone, and Yoongi opens the door to the room and slips in, tossing the clothing toward the bed and grabbing a pair of sneakers before returning, doing his best to keep his stench of pheromones and sweat trapped.
When he returns, Namjoon is standing straight up with his arms at his sides, and his head tipped slightly back. His eyes are closed, and he appears to be taking a deep breath in through his nose, filling his lungs. Yoongi wonders if he does this to get into a proper headspace to run – calmly intake oxygen to help his muscles relax.
But when Namjoon opens his eyes and looks at Yoongi, his pupils are blown wide and there is something burning in his gaze that causes Yoongi to instinctively take a step back. The way Namjoon looks at him makes Yoongi feel vulnerable and exposed. If he didn't know any better, he would think the alpha wants to eat him.
Namjoon heavy-blinks and clears his throat, dispelling the tension between them, and turns to exit the hallway. To the left, through the main living room, is a door that appears to lead to the back of the property. Namjoon approaches, bends to pick up a pair of shoes beside the exit, and begins putting them on, while Yoongi slides into his sneakers, staying a good six feet or so away from Namjoon, trying his best not to get too much of a whiff of him, breathing primarily through his mouth.
By the time Namjoon straightens out, Yoongi is finishing up tying his second shoe. In the other room, Yoongi can hear Wheein and Jeongguk laughing together. He finds it a bit strange that Namjoon and Wheein do not seem to communicate much, but assumes that is how it is, sometimes. He wonders if being unable to conceive has put a strain on their marriage before deciding it is none of his business.
"Ready?" Namjoon asks, voice deeper and breathier than Yoongi remembers, making him stand alert.
"Yeah," Yoongi responds, sliding his hands into the pockets of his joggers as Namjoon opens the back door and steps outside, audibly taking a deep breath and sighing.
Yoongi nudges the door with his elbow on his way out, then half-turns to pull it closed quietly. The sun has already begun to set, painting the sky orange and pink, and there is a chill in the air that makes Yoongi scrunch his shoulders to his ears momentarily as he steps out onto the small wooden deck. It feels nice, and he rolls his shoulders back, taking in a deep breath of dirt, grass, and citrus.
"Shit," Namjoon mutters under his breath, turning back toward the house.
Yoongi hums and looks at Namjoon, feeling momentarily worried that something may be wrong.
"The contract," Namjoon clarifies, shifting in place as if he is unsure where he wants to be. "I wanted to go over the terms and finalize everything, but I left it in the office."
"Ah," Yoongi says. He wonders if having a paper contract outside while they intend to exercise is practical in the first place, and suggests an alternative. "What if we discuss the terms, and when we return inside, we can sign it? I assume you have gone over everything, and I can give it a quick read."
Namjoon knits his brow, considering Yoongi's proposition, then nods. "Yeah," he says, eyes on the wooden floor of the deck rather than meeting Yoongi's gaze, "that sounds good."
Yoongi nods and takes in the scenery around him. Behind Namjoon's hanok, the land opens up to a large yard with an inground pool. Past the pool ahead is a wooded area, with thick trees and brush, and to the left is a small bungalow that he surmises must be the guesthouse. Yoongi wonders how much of the land belongs to Namjoon; how far they can run.
"This path zig-zags through the trees, out the other side," Namjoon explains as if reading his mind. "I like to run the path, and continue along the residential area on the other side, to a park that is a few miles away. We don't have to run the entire length…whatever you feel like."
"Sounds good," Yoongi responds, waiting for Namjoon to lead the way.
Namjoon walks ahead, down the three steps that lead to a path that wraps around the pool to the right and into the trees, slowly picking up his pace. Yoongi follows, then steps in pace with Namjoon. It is a leisurely jog, and Yoongi instantly feels a calm rush over him at the feeling of the evening wind in his shoulder-length hair, though he wishes he had brought a hair tie.
"The main clause in the contract is that we have to actually, er—" Namjoon begins, cutting himself off until only the sound of gunite underfoot can be heard.
"Procreate," Yoongi offers, cringing instantly at his choice of word.
Luckily, it makes Namjoon chuckle, lightening the mood. "Yes, procreate."
Silence falls between them, and they approach the edge of the wooded area before Namjoon asks, "Does that make you uncomfortable?"
Yoongi takes a moment to answer, curious how forthcoming he should be with Namjoon. He wonders if it is necessary for the alpha to know that he has never taken a knot before. Underfoot, the path becomes dirt with twigs and leaves crunching as they begin to jog past the edge of the trees.
"Not uncomfortable," Yoongi says, eyes on the path, which is more than wide enough for two. "I was a bit surprised, since that is different from how things are typically done these days, but I respect the old ways just as much as the new. As long as you and your wife are comfortable."
For the briefest of moments, Yoongi could swear Namjoon's cinnamon scent bitterly stings the air, but just as soon as it arrives, it is gone. It is not uncommon for the tangier or sharper of the smells someone has to be strongest when they are feeling heightened levels of irritation, anger, annoyance, depression, and so on. Briefly, Yoongi worries whether something he said bothered Namjoon.
"I am comfortable as long as you are," Namjoon responds somewhat tersely as they take a left turn and the path straightens out before turning right up ahead.
Again, silence falls, and Yoongi listens to the scurry of rodents and the soft calls of birds. To the right, through the wooded area, Yoongi can see more of the path. It appears to snake through the trees from right to left to right again with wooded areas in between. It is peaceful, and Yoongi is grateful that Namjoon invited him. For the first time since his heat began, he feels calm and in control of his own body.
Once his heat fully hits, he will not be so mobile. The first wave is a bit of a warning, ebbing and flowing before coming in full swing. In a day or two, he expects to lock himself in that small bedroom and hide away from everyone until it passes, or at least until they mate. Although omegas are most fertile while in heat, he and Namjoon still need to discuss a timeline for everything.
"Is there a good time for us to…" Yoongi trails off, taking the curve to the right and continuing in step beside Namjoon. He squeezes his eyes shut for a split second and curses himself for being so awkward; he is an adult, discussing a contractual agreement with another adult. Just because there is sex involved, does not mean he should struggle to discuss it.
"For us to…?" Namjoon asks when the silence draws on a little long.
The thought of laying sprawled out beneath Namjoon, looking up at him while his hair clings to his sweaty forehead flashes in Yoongi's mind, and all at once, he trips over his own feet and topples forward, knees and palms meeting the ground before he corrects himself. The tumble is small and hardly disrupts their pace, but Namjoon is close in an instant, filling his senses with tangerines and warm, calming musk.
"Are you alright?" Namjoon asks, voice low and soft, giving Yoongi goosebumps.
Yoongi hums in response, eager for Namjoon to not be quite so close, despite how much his body longs for him to touch him. They run in silence, snaking around to the left and to the right again, while Yoongi attempts to clear his head, and he is grateful for Namjoon's patience while he gathers his thoughts. Once they start reaching the end of the path, Yoongi takes in a fortifying breath.
"What I was going to ask is whether there is a good time for us to get started," Yoongi says, keeping his eyes ahead. "On the whole…er…process."
"The procreation," Namjoon adds, and Yoongi wonders if there is a playful tone to his voice, but he does not want to face the man and check his expression.
"Yes," he says, cracking a soft smile. "The procreation."
As they come around the final curve, the treeline ends, opening up to a well-trodden grassy area. Up ahead is a round cul-de-sac and sidewalk that leads to a residential neighborhood, and further down, there appears to be a playground of some sort.
"Whenever you feel most comfortable," Namjoon says, which, if Yoongi is being honest, is not the most helpful statement.
Yoongi hums and glances around, not very focused on anything in particular; more eager than anything to get a plan of some sort finalized.
"Well, I am already at your house and more or less ready to begin," Yoongi huffs, finally feeling the exertion of the run. "You are the one with the career, so really, it is up to you, depending on how hands-on you would like to be. And if you would rather wait for my heat to be over, we can."
The sound that comes from Namjoon is somewhere between a hum and a groan, and Yoongi is unsure how to parse it, but certain that he would rather pretend he never heard it. All the little hairs on his body stand at attention, and he does his best not to trip on his own feet again.
"It may be best if we wait until after," Namjoon finally responds. The soft tone of voice has returned, and it does wonders for Yoongi's already wild imagination. "Not to be dismissive or anything, but since omegas tend to get…shall we say…needy during their heats, I should probably keep my distance."
At this, Yoongi laughs – a burst at first that blooms into something melodic and impossible to contain. Namjoon lets out a surprised sound before he, too, chuckles, and Yoongi slows their run to a stop in order to catch his breath.
"What is it?" Namjoon asks, laughter in his voice.
For the first time since coming outside, Yoongi allows himself to glance at Namjoon. He realizes too late that he made a mistake when a sheen of sweat that glistens on Namjoon's neck is hit just right by the streetlights and diminishing sun rays, making his golden skin shine. Namjoon cracks a hint of a smile, watching Yoongi as if he is waiting for a response; Yoongi has no idea why they were laughing, anymore, brain muddled by the alpha's beauty.
"Uh—" Yoongi mutters, pulling his eyes from Namjoon to glance around and attempt to clear his head. "What were we talking about?"
Namjoon scoffs and reaches up, leaning into Yoongi's personal space and taking him by surprise. When Namjoon's warm hand comes into contact with Yoongi's forehead, it makes him freeze in place.
"Do you have a fever or something, omega?" Namjoon asks, moving his hand to Yoongi's cheek as if comparing the two temperatures.
Yoongi ducks dramatically to the side, swatting at the air, doing his best not to touch the alpha who evidently has no respect for personal space.
"Excuse you," he grumbles, watching as Namjoon cracks more of a smile, cheeks delicately dimpled. "I feel fine, for the most part. Just…I don't know…I'm tired."
A lie; Yoongi is not remotely tired. In fact, this run has him feeling more invigorated than he has in months.
"We were discussing the possibility of waiting until after your heat," Namjoon responds somewhat under his breath. He averts his gaze to the road, and Yoongi wonders if the topic of conversation actually makes him feel shy.
"Ah," Yoongi says, remembering Namjoon saying he would become needy and feeling warmth flood to his cheeks. There is a part of him that feels disappointed that Namjoon will want to keep all of his strong, calming alpha scents away when Yoongi desires them most, but he does his best to tamp those thoughts down and remind himself once again that Namjoon is not his.
But what if Namjoon were his, Yoongi's heat-addled mind suggests, unhelpfully. What if, just once, Namjoon could cradle him the way he needs while he fights through his heat? What if Namjoon enveloped him in a warm cocoon of spicy-citrus heaven?
Warmth rushes through Yoongi at a dizzying pace, making his chest feel tight, and he takes a deep intake of cool night air, closing his eyes and tilting his head to the sky. Suddenly, his limbs feel al dente and ready to collapse, and his heart pounds.
"You alright?" Namjoon asks, and Yoongi notices his own tangy scent of pomegranate permeating the air.
"Y-yeah," Yoongi responds, turning back toward the house. "Just got hit by a hot flash. I might head back to the house."
"Alright," Namjoon mutters, taking a step closer, emitting a soothing wave of musk. "Do you want me to come with you?"
Yes, Yoongi thinks. He would love for Namjoon to come with him. Only, he fixates on Namjoon towering over him, sweaty and eager to placate his hormonal urges, which is the opposite of what Namjoon can do for him.
"No, I'm good," Yoongi insists. "I'll see you back there."
Yoongi does not wait for Namjoon to respond before he begins jogging toward the trees. Although the cool night air is relaxing, Yoongi feels warm and worn out. He worries his knees might give way, but he presses ahead. The sound of Namjoon's feet jogging in the opposite direction can be heard, and once the lingering scent of tangerine fades, Yoongi lets out a deep breath, slowing down to intake air uninhabited by him.
Being in the presence of Namjoon almost feels like a pull – like there is an invisible string connecting them, causing Yoongi to get caught in Namjoon's gravity. Yoongi wonders again what life might be like if Namjoon were his to orbit. He knows the thought is silly, and it does nothing to tamp the wave of loneliness he feels as he picks up his pace and jogs back toward the large home alone.
He takes it slow, not entirely eager to return too soon before Namjoon. Although Wheein was nice to him last night, her behavior this morning and distance all day has Yoongi feeling unsure of what to think of her. It must be strange to have another person in the house, and Yoongi can only imagine how she must be feeling knowing that he and Namjoon will have to mate the traditional way. Still, he cannot help but wonder if she really meant it last night when she said they would become friends.
Yoongi enters the trees and takes a deep breath of fresh air, letting it settle in his lungs before it rattles out with each movement of his legs. Without Namjoon’s musk, Yoongi feels a bit brighter, oxygen coming to him a little easier. He follows the path and curves to the left, glancing through the trees to his left, toward the residential area for a glimpse of Namjoon, finding a distant figure that may be moving toward him.
He wonders if it is possible for Namjoon to have already run to the end of his route, and glances again, seeing him advance quickly from between the trees. Briefly, Yoongi imagines Namjoon as his alpha coming to give chase and capture him, and instantly, his pheromones spike, creating a cloying plume of chamomile with hints of pomegranate.
“Gods damn it,” Yoongi mutters under his breath, feeling embarrassed by the possibility of Namjoon catching up and running straight through the scent.
But then he imagines Namjoon sniffing the air with blown pupils that blaze with a fire just for Yoongi. Perhaps he has worked up even more of a sweat – dewy and dripping, tasting salty-sweet. The thought stirs arousal in Yoongi’s tummy, and although it is a small amount, he can both feel and smell the slick that he produces – a headier, muskier mixture of his scents.
With a groan, Yoongi follows the path around to the right and picks up the pace. No longer is he concerned with returning alone and having to face Wheein. Now he just wants to get back to the room and bury himself under the warm, soft blankets that smell just like the alpha he cannot stop thinking about, contract be damned.
Yoongi begins to huff and grunt as he jogs on. The small amount of slick he has produced feels uncomfortable, and the more he dwells on it, the more his pheromones seem to seep into the air, clinging all around him like a mist. He wonders if it would be excessive to take another shower.
As he follows the path around one more curve, Yoongi hears a branch snap to his left, in the direction from which Namjoon runs, and he turns his head to find Namjoon running straight through the trees, toward him. Fear and adrenaline spike in Yoongi, and he picks up the pace, running faster. If this is a game Namjoon is playing with him, Yoongi is unsure whether he finds it amusing.
Another branch snaps, this one much closer, and Yoongi turns his head to find Namjoon leaping out from the wooded area, onto the path behind him, watching him with wide eyes and a stance that almost looks like Namjoon is going to get onto all fours and give animalistic chase. Yoongi turns his gaze ahead and approaches the next curve in the road, taking it rather quickly and checking to see that he is not too far from the house.
But as soon as Yoongi is around the bend, Namjoon is ahead, exiting the wooded area and running straight for him. Yoongi falters in his steps and nearly trips over himself, then he veers off the path and begins to run through the last strip of woods in the direction of the Hanok. The sounds of leaves and twigs underfoot snap loudly, causing Yoongi's heart to pound impossibly harder, and he runs as if his life depends on it, hopping over fallen branches and zig-zagging around trees.
And then he trips. Yoongi's right ankle gets caught on a large branch, and he falls forward, bracing himself for impact with his hands outstretched. He feels foolish and confused, heart booming loudly in his ears, and more than anything he just wants to get away from this stupid fucking path and out of all of this nature.
Just as Yoongi's already sore palms hit uneven ground, two strong, warm arms wrap around him and yank him back. Before he can make sense of anything, Yoongi is firmly pressed against the thick trunk of a maple tree. Namjoon's arms cage Yoongi in, hands on either side of his face, and he leans in close, loudly sniffing the air around them.
"N-Namjoon?" Yoongi mutters as his entire body trembles.
From this proximity, the aura of musk and tangerine is strong and sweet – intoxicating. His eyelids flutter shut as more pungent slick is produced, feeling a primal calm wash over him despite being caught by a man who had just given chase.
"What are you doing?" he tries, tilting his head away from Namjoon, who continues to sniff him.
"Smells so good," Namjoon groans after a pause, voice deep and lust-laced.
Yoongi wants to shove Namjoon away and continue back to the hanok, but he finds he cannot move. The alpha's presence is strong and commanding, and Yoongi likes this attention from him; he likes the idea that his scent is alluring. And so he stands with his back pressed against the tree, panting through shattered breath as he attempts to even his heartbeat and ignore the flooding arousal that pools in his tummy.
Then, as if ripped from a trance, Namjoon stands straight up and blinks heavily, taking two steps back. He glances around at his surroundings and, with wide, apologetic eyes, he mutters, "S-sorry. I didn't mean to—that was an accident."
Yoongi clears his throat as disappointment builds and builds and crashes throughout him. He feels shipwrecked at sea – splintered wood left to drift aimlessly in open waters. Because of course, it was an accident; why would Namjoon desire him?
"It's fine," Yoongi responds as he peels himself away from the tree and slowly begins to walk back toward the path.
Namjoon leads the way, jogging without a glance back. Yoongi follows behind. Not another word is exchanged between them, and when Yoongi returns to the hanok, he kicks his shoes off and heads straight to the room.
Namjoon
I left the contract on the dining room table. Please read it over and let me know if there is anything we need to amend. If everything looks good, we can sign it and work out a timeline. We discussed waiting until your heat is over, if you recall. Just let me know when the time comes, and we can begin making arrangements.
Yoongi blinks sleep from his eyes as he reads over Namjoon's message. The feral part of him wants to ignore everything contract-related and ask him just what the fuck happened last night, while they were jogging. Had Namjoon caught a whiff of Yoongi's arousal and begun to take chase without thinking? That is the only conclusion Yoongi is able to draw, and he has given it a lot of thought.
But Yoongi decides not to interrogate the alpha. It is not as if he can fully control his urges; some instincts are too primal. Just because his arousal may be inviting does not mean Namjoon wants him.
Yoongi gets dressed for the day and exits the room, feeling a sheen of dewy sweat cover him. He is warm and irritated, and he wants to grab some fruit and a cup of tea and return to bed. To his delight, only Jeongguk is in the kitchen, and as Yoongi approaches, the man turns quickly to face him with wide, curious eyes.
"What?" Yoongi grumbles, uncomfortable with the way Jeongguk's gaze roves over him. "Is there something on my face?"
Jeongguk blinks several times, then shakes his head, and says, "The smell," almost more to himself than to Yoongi.
With a grunt of acknowledgment, Yoongi approaches the dining table and finds the aforementioned contract, picking it up and glancing over it.
"Could I trouble you for some fruit and tea?" he asks softly, watching as Jeongguk – who seems to be preparing tofu – nods, and hums.
"Anything else?" Jeongguk asks, not turning around to address Yoongi directly.
"Nah," Yoongi responds as he turns and makes his way back to the room. "Feel free to shout and I'll come get it."
Yoongi hears Jeongguk hum in response, and he returns to the room and closes the door tightly behind him. He shuffles over to the bed and has a seat, then begins to read over the contract. It looks like any other contract he has had to sign for work, with the amendments of a traditional mating ritual. Ordinarily, when he surrogates, the egg belongs to the other parent, and it dawns on Yoongi that this child will be his DNA, not Wheein's.
The thought of it makes his hands tremble, and he gnaws on the inside of his mouth. How will he feel, knowing years from now that the baby Namjoon and Wheein raise as their own is his? Will he be given rights to be in that child's life? Will he even want that?
Yoongi stares at the page until the words blur and jumble, turning into black smudges against white – incoherent and impossible to parse. He feels anxious and suddenly so terribly alone, and he begins to worry that maybe he cannot do this. Maybe he needs to back out. Maybe he should just go home.
The sound of knuckles rapping against the wooden door pulls Yoongi from the fog, and he sits alert and looks in the direction of the sound.
"Yes?" he calls, heart pounding at the thought that it could be Namjoon on the other side.
"Tea is ready," Jeongguk responds softly. "I didn't feel like shouting."
With a hum, Yoongi tosses the contract aside and gets off the bed. As he steps closer to the door, he begins to feel a bit shy about how much the room must reek of him. In the kitchen, Jeongguk seemed dazed by his mere presence; what might it smell like contained in such a small space, even with the window cracked open?
To his surprise, Jeongguk's expression seems rather schooled as he opens the door and greets him. He reaches for the tray of tea and fruit, but Jeongguk shakes his head and nods his chin as if to motion for Yoongi to get out of his way.
"Fine," Yoongi mutters, stepping aside and allowing him to enter. The aroma of the tea is strong and soothing.
Jeongguk makes his way to the bed and sets the tray down. His eyes seem to linger on the contract, and then he straightens himself out and turns back to Yoongi. With a concerned pinch to his brow, he opens his mouth, but then he seems to think better about what he might say, and he closes it, floundering.
"Is something the matter?" Yoongi drawls, unable to hide his impatience. He just wants to return to bed and enjoy his tea and fruit, and Jeongguk is standing in the way.
"No," Jeongguk responds after a moment, shrugging as he leaves the room.
"Weirdo," Yoongi mutters under his breath once the door is closed tight. He feels hormonal and irritated, and he is not in the mood for a cryptic beta sniffing around in his personal space.
Yoongi would throw himself onto the mattress in a disgruntled huff if it weren't for the tray of hot tea sitting atop. Instead, he slowly gets onto his knees and shuffles over, plopping onto his butt once he is close enough, causing the porcelain to rattle on its wooden surface.
The tea is perfect, lightly sweetened with honey and soothing on the throat. Yoongi allows himself to be grateful for Jeongguk despite how annoying he finds his presence today. He wonders if Jeongguk likes being employed by the couple because he enjoys doting on others. He even wonders if Jeongguk will dote on him throughout the pregnancy. Or if that is something Namjoon will do?
Namjoon. Yoongi grimaces at the thought of him. Last night, in the woods, pressed against the tree and caged in by Namjoon's arms, Yoongi felt truly alive. Something primal sparked inside him after being chased and captured by the alpha. Just thinking about it has slick threatening to stain his pants.
But then he remembers the look on Namjoon's face when he said it was an accident, and the arousal turns acidic, giving Yoongi a stomach ache. With a frown, he enjoys his fruit – sliced pear and watermelon – and considers once more the thought of backing out of this situation.
Does he really want to be tied to Namjoon for the rest of his life? Is it worth the paycheck? Yoongi is happy to let his body be used to carry a baby to term, but his baby? His flesh and blood, sharing physical features and primal, innate instincts with Kim Namjoon? Can he really go through with it?
This time, when knuckles rap gently at the door, Yoongi huffs out a sigh and shouts, "What?" He is not in the mood to be bothered; can't he wallow in his moodiness alone?
"Yoongi-ssi?" Namjoon calls from the other side of the door.
Namjoon is possibly the last person on this planet Yoongi wants stepping foot into this room, especially with his arousal cloying the air. Even if Namjoon does not desire him, the alpha in him will likely become aroused, and he would rather save all of that for when they actually have to mate.
A shudder runs down Yoongi's spine, and he calls back, "Don't come in here!"
"I just wanted to make sure you got the contract," Namjoon responds, and Yoongi nods to nobody but himself as he mutters, "I got it."
"Okay, good," Namjoon says, and that is it. Silence from the other side of the door, just as Yoongi likes it.
He reminds himself that Namjoon stood up for him all those years ago, and that he should stop second-guessing whether he wants to help him or not. He should help Namjoon; he likes to help others. So he picks up his phone and thumbs around for his conversation with the alpha.
Yoongi
Contract looks good. I have a few things I would like to discuss, but it can wait until after my heat ends.
Before Yoongi has a chance to set his phone down, it rings. Namjoon's name flashes on the screen, filling Yoongi with a wave of anxiety. Of course, it is fair that Namjoon would want to iron out any details, but now?
Yoongi answers the phone with a hum.
"We can talk about it now if you'd like to," Namjoon says, tone low and concerned. Hearing Namjoon's voice spoken so directly in his ear gives him goosebumps; he sounds good.
"Uh—" Yoongi clears his throat and runs a hand through his long, messy hair. "Alright. Well, I guess I was wondering about after the baby is born, since, you know…it's going to share my DNA too, if, uh…"
He trails off, unable to finish the sentence. Suddenly, he feels embarrassed to care this much, especially being unable to see and gauge Namjoon's reaction.
"Never mind," he mutters when the silence becomes overwhelming. "Forget it."
"Yoongi, listen," Namjoon says, voice stripped of any hint of concern; stern. "I know the process will likely be really stressful, and very personal to you, but I'm not sure it's a good idea for you to come around once we've finished. At least not until the baby is older. The media might turn it into a mess, and we need to think about our reputations."
"We what?" Yoongi responds sharply, unable to hold in the surge of anger that burns behind his ribcage. "What the fuck did you just say?"
Namjoon has the audacity to sigh, and Yoongi spirals.
"You know what?" Yoongi says through a sardonic chuckle, shaking his head, "Fuck you, and fuck this contract. I'm packing my shit and going home."
"Yoongi," Namjoon groans impatiently, "why don't we discuss this once your heat is over?"
"Once my heat is over?" Yoongi practically shouts, voice steeped in sarcasm. "Why, because I'm hormonal? Surely my judgment is being clouded because my omega instincts are making me overreact."
Namjoon hums and responds, "Pretty much."
"Oh, I fucking hate you," Yoongi says, getting up from the bed and pacing around, grabbing his discarded clothing from the floor and walking toward his suitcase to shove the items in unceremoniously. "And stop addressing me without honorifics! I am older than you!"
The tone of Namjoon's voice as he says, "I'm the alpha of this house," is almost playful, and Yoongi finds it infuriating.
"Can't even get your wife pregnant," Yoongi mutters under his breath. "Some fucking alpha you are."
As soon as the words leave his lips, Yoongi braces himself to be yelled at. He really has a lot of nerve saying shit like that to the man whose house he has been staying in. It takes Yoongi by surprise, however, when the door to the bedroom flies open, and Namjoon comes barreling in.
"Say that to my face, omega," Namjoon challenges, standing tall while Yoongi still holds his phone to his ear, crouched over his suitcase, and too dazed to move.
The bitter sting of cinnamon permeates the air, and Yoongi stumbles back, feeling dizzy.
"Not so tough are you now, little wolf?" Namjoon snarls, stepping forward and crowding Yoongi's space.
Yoongi wonders if Jeongguk or Wheein are around and can hear them. He wonders if they would intervene if things got physical between them.
He does not want to fight Namjoon, however. He wants to fuck.
Seeing him worked up with his jaw set and nostrils flaring, muscles strained behind his white button-up does something to Yoongi, and he is unable to stop himself from leaking a little at the sight of him. This must catch Namjoon's attention because he sniffs the air before his eyes widen, confusion laced with anger.
"If you want to leave, then get the fuck out," Namjoon says, blinking heavily and appearing less confident than just a moment ago. "Otherwise, watch what you say to me."
"Alright," Yoongi mutters, eyes traveling over Namjoon, past the hint of skin that peeks past his collar – two buttons left undone – to the shape of his waist and hips, no detail hidden behind the white fabric. "S-sorry."
"Are you?" Namjoon asks, making Yoongi's eyes snap back to his face.
"Yeah," he mutters, and he means it. All the fight has drained out of him, and the bedroom stinks of negativity and arousal.
"If you stay, we can discuss all of this in better detail," Namjoon says, taking a step backward. Sweat shimmers on his throat, and once more, Yoongi cannot stop himself from imagining what it must taste like.
"Later," Namjoon adds, eyes glancing around the room, dazed.
And then he walks out, closing the door behind him. Yoongi's phone remains clutched in his hand, and he glances down to notice that the call was never hung up. Seconds tick by uselessly on his screen until finally, the line goes dead.
"Fuck," Yoongi mutters, tossing his phone to the bed as he lets out a deep exhale. "Holy fuck. That was hot."
No longer is Yoongi considering packing and leaving; he is desperate for Namjoon to mate him.
Tonight, it is Wheein who brings Yoongi dinner. She looks tense as she holds the tray of kimchi soup, rice, and tea, and thankfully, she allows Yoongi to take it from her in the doorway. Yoongi hopes she will excuse herself immediately.
"What did you say to piss off Namjoon earlier?" she asks, voice full of mirth.
Yoongi stops mid-turn and looks over his shoulder to find her standing with her arms crossed over her chest. Heat rises to his face, and he spins away to continue carrying the tray over to the bed.
"Oh, nothing, really…" Yoongi mutters, unsure what he could possibly tell her about what happened. He is almost certain Namjoon did not confide in her, if the lack of conversation he has witnessed is anything to go by. "I misunderstood a line in the contract, and overreacted. My hormones have been super off balance."
Yoongi turns and feigns concern as he adds, "Why? Did he—did he say anything?"
Wheein squints and appears to study Yoongi, then she shrugs and responds, "No. Just heard him storm in here, that's all."
"Ah," Yoongi mutters, feeling uncomfortable. "Well, thank you for the food. I appreciate it."
"The thing is," Wheein continues, straightening her posture and taking a step into the room, "he seems to be coming down with a fever. I'm worried that something may have stressed him out so much that he has become sick."
Yoongi swallows a lump, feeling a prickle of sweat on his forehead. Just what the hell is Wheein trying to accuse him of?
"I don't think that's how stress or sickness works," Yoongi mutters, somewhat defensively.
With a devilish grin, Wheein says, "True. Maybe he got a whiff of your horny omega slick and now he's going into a rut."
Yoongi's heart pounds wildly in his chest, and he racks his brain…is that how ruts work? He is not entirely sure; alpha ruts are not exactly part of the in vitro birthing process.
"I'm…not—" Yoongi begins, wanting to argue that he has not been excreting slick willy-nilly for all the house to smell. Sure, he is sweating a lot, and producing a bouquet of scents, but his slick has been more or less kept under control.
But then he remembers the jog in the woods. Not only that, but Namjoon chased him through the trees and pinned him in order to get a better sniff of him. And he did leak a little earlier today when Namjoon stormed in and loomed over him like a threat. Could that have caused a rut?
Yoongi begins to panic, feeling his pulse rage. He knits his brow and shakes his head, attempting to think of something to say, but Wheein just giggles and walks out, closing the door and leaving a spattering of patchouli behind her.
Briefly, Yoongi wonders if she is drunk; she does seem to enjoy her white wine. Or is she being malicious? Does having another omega in the house make her feel insecure?
There is a part of Yoongi that wants to reach out to Namjoon and ask him what is wrong – to make sure that it is not, in fact, a rut that he is going through. But Namjoon has been so hot and cold toward Yoongi since his arrival, and more than anything, he wants to get the procreation done and over with so that he can carry their child to term and never see them again.
However, if he is going to be in this house for a year, give or take, then he needs an ally. So he climbs onto the bed, finds his phone, and makes an attempt at opening a dialogue.
Yoongi
I have a feeling Wheein hates me.
He sets his phone down and takes a spoonful of soup, raising it to his lips before stopping and giving it a whiff. Certainly, if she were going to poison him, she would do so with something undetectable, Yoongi thinks, but he takes precautions anyway. After all, she is not above having things added to his food that should not be in there.
Yoongi has a spoonful of the soup, then a bite of rice, and a spoonful of soup again. He closes his eyes, savoring the broth with a tiny smile, deciding it is probably not dosed with poison. Beside him, his cell phone buzzes.
Namjoon
To be fair, she hates everything.
This makes Yoongi snicker and roll his eyes.
Yoongi
How reassuring.
Namjoon
Why? Has she said something to you?
Yoongi feels a little surprised by Namjoon's concern. Of course, this could be a robotic response, seeing as Yoongi is a guest in his home. Or a response born out of boredom, if Namjoon really is sick. Still, Yoongi takes what he can get.
Yoongi
She asked me what I said to anger you. I lied a little, because I wasn't sure if you told her, and I was already embarrassed enough that I didn't want to run the risk of offending her, as well.
Namjoon
She's good at smelling lies. But it's probably best that you didn't tell her.
Yoongi
I figured.
Yoongi continues to eat, staring at his phone, which rests on his knee, waiting for Namjoon to respond. It only takes a few minutes for him to become antsy.
Yoongi
She mentioned you've been feeling sick.
Namjoon
A fever, I think. Nothing concerning.
Yoongi
Wheein said it might be a rut. She even teased me, saying it was probably my fault.
Namjoon
She said that?
Yoongi
I’m sure she was joking, but it did make me a bit uncomfortable.
Yoongi wants to ask directly. He wants to interrogate Namjoon about what happened in the woods last night and ask him what he thinks they should do. If Namjoon is reacting to his scent in a primal way, is it safe for them to be in the same house?
He stares at his phone, waiting for a response to come in, feeling disappointment well inside his guts with each moment that passes without one. He even considers calling Namjoon just to clear things up.
But instead, he decides he would rather eat his dinner. Already, the food and tea have begun to turn cold, so he slurps everything up, intent on finishing rather than savoring.
Since Namjoon is likely confined to one of the rooms, Yoongi decides to take his tray back to the kitchen. Perhaps he can engage in more friendly conversation with Wheein, or find out what Jeongguk is up to.
Yoongi slides off the bed and grabs the tray, balancing it on one palm spread across the underside as he walks to the door and opens it. He peeks out briefly, and upon finding only Jeongguk in the kitchen, he exits the room and pads over.
As he approaches, Jeongguk looks up, and with widened eyes, he trots over, reaching out for the tray before getting close enough to take it.
“I got it,” Yoongi grumbles, but Jeongguk takes it anyway, spinning on the balls of his feet to place it onto the counter.
“Yoongi-ssi,” Jeongguk says as he turns his attention back to Yoongi. “I was just going to come talk to you.”
“Oh?”
Jeongguk hums. “Being that you are in a heat cycle and Namjoon is feeling unwell, we would like to move you.”
"Like, what, to another room?" Yoongi scoffs; what difference would it make if he were across the same hallway, one door over.
"It's…more like a guesthouse," Jeongguk responds with a look of concern, possibly because he can see how Yoongi is responding to the request.
"A guesthouse," Yoongi mutters under his breath.
So, essentially, they would like to further isolate Yoongi and keep him away from Namjoon. And he is supposed to carry a child under those conditions…he wishes he could say he is surprised, but isolating the surrogate does seem to be the way couples handle the process, and a guesthouse had been mentioned before.
"Fine," Yoongi grumbles, feeling exhausted.
Perhaps it is for the best that he is away from this weirdo family and keeps to himself. The pay that will come at the end of this whole ordeal will be enough that he can take a vacation to clear his mind, and he decides to begin looking forward to that.
Yoongi leads the way back to the bedroom and pushes the door open, leaving it hanging rather than bothering to close it behind him. Let his stench fill the hallway, for all he cares; if Namjoon really is rutting, then he hopes the man feels miserable.
First, he picks up his phone – checking for messages and rolling his eyes when he finds none – and then he shoves his strewn clothing back into his suitcase and zips it shut. Jeongguk arrives and waits in the doorway, seemingly surprised to find Yoongi is already set to leave.
"You never bothered to unpack," Jeongguk mutters, a statement rather than a question.
Rather than respond, Yoongi shoves past and walks down the hallway, toward the bathroom, to retrieve his toothbrush. For a brief moment, he considers taking the amenities that have been provided, but he decides to wait and find out what the guesthouse has to offer. Yoongi pads back and finds that Jeongguk already has his suitcase handle extended and in his grasp, so he approaches and waits for the beta to lead the way.
"It's out back," Jeongguk mutters as he wheels the case toward the back door, and Yoongi trods ahead and slides his feet into the sneakers that were left the night before, not bothering to untie them or straighten out the backs that bend beneath his heels. He stands off to the side as Jeongguk slides into some sandals and opens the back door, leading the way to the left, where the wooden deck extends past the pool, along the side of the house.
Past the pool, between the hanok and the wooded area, is a small wooden bungalow – a tiny version of the hanok, with matching ornate black roof tiles. It runs the width of the pool, although how deep the structure is, Yoongi cannot tell. Jeongguk leads down the wooden path until he reaches the door, then he pulls out a key and unlocks it.
As soon as Yoongi steps close to the front door, he is hit with the scent of warm musk, tangerine, and cinnamon, stronger than it had been in the other bedroom. Petulance rises, and he cannot decide whether he is more annoyed at having to smell the alpha because he wants him close, or if he simply wants nothing to do with his presence at all.
This building is far more quaint, with a large room that has a bed set up in the far corner, raised from the floor and covered in furs – what one would expect from a wolf home centuries ago – with a dresser and mirror nearby. There is a low square table in the center of the room, around which sits four yellow-brown cushions. To the right is a window, and to the left is a door, through which Yoongi expects to find a bathroom.
There is no kitchen, nor hint of space in which to prepare meals, making Yoongi uncomfortable. Sure, he had been accepting Jeongguk's insistence of preparing and delivering his meals, but out here, away from the house, he practically feels like a prisoner. The space is bare bones, and appears hardly used – though immaculate; Yoongi does not see a speck of dust. He wonders if Jeongguk recently cleaned in here.
"What do I do about food?" Yoongi asks, already knowing what the answer will be.
"I already prepare all three meals for Namjoon and Wheein," Jeongguk responds simply. "And I was already bringing your meals, before we moved you here. It's no trouble for me to make the extra trip with a tray."
Yoongi sighs and digs the palms of his hands against his eyes, feeling tired, but more in an emotional way than a physical one.
"I guess I was hoping that on days I felt better, I could have a little more independence."
Jeongguk nods, then shrugs and says, "I understand it must be strange to live with a family who has hired help, but I assure you that nobody cooks or cleans in that kitchen but me."
"And if you're sick?" Yoongi challenges, raising an eyebrow.
"I rarely become sick," Jeongguk responds.
Yoongi simply hums. Must be nice, he thinks, to be a beta with no heat or rut cycle to care about. Still, the thought of having to rely on someone else for all of his meals feels…well, annoying. But he swallows down the rest of his remarks and accepts things as they are. Jeongguk is, after all, a great cook.
"Take down my number so it will be easier for you to let me know when you are hungry," Jeongguk suggests, and Yoongi fishes his phone from his pocket, unlocks the screen, and thumbs through to open an empty contact, then hands it over.
"And if I want snacks?"
Jeongguk takes the phone, glancing at Yoongi for just a brief moment to smirk, before looking down and muttering, "I have already purchased the items on your list, and if you would like, I can bring all the snacks here. If there is anything else you crave, just let me know and I will add it to the shopping list."
"Alright," Yoongi concedes with a sigh as Jeongguk hands his phone back. Yoongi snatches it and slides it back into his pocket, then continues to glance around the room.
"I will leave you to it," Jeongguk says, turning on his heels before adding, "and if you would like to go for a swim, please feel free. I bought a set of shorts in case you didn't pack any. It's in the dresser, which you are welcome to store your things in."
Yoongi nods and hums in response, then stands stiff with his arms hanging at his sides, unsure what to do with himself as Jeongguk leaves. A swim does sound nice, but he hesitates, letting his gaze drift around the room. He supposes it couldn't hurt to take a dip and get a little sunshine. There really is not much else to do, and although Yoongi has a laptop packed in his suitcase and can always find something to stream, he really is not in the mood to watch anything.
"Everything feels like a concession," he mutters under his breath as he kicks away his bent sneakers and pads over to the dresser. "For once, I just want to feel relaxed."
And if that is not reason enough to take a swim, he really does not know what is.
Although the furniture seems somewhat contemporary, the dresser has a vintage look, designed like older pieces of furniture with ornate iron fastenings, but rounded edges. Yoongi opens the top drawer and finds a folded pile of black cloth, which he lifts and discovers is the shorts Jeongguk had mentioned.
Although they are longer, they are also rather tight, and Yoongi snickers to himself, wondering if they provide more coverage than boxer briefs – which he has aplenty, and could have worn. He strips down, out of his light blue jeans and black briefs, and shimmies one leg at a time into the shorts, pulling them high and adjusting the crotch.
"Good enough," he mutters as he crosses the room and enters through the only other door, feeling around for a light switch before finding one and flipping it up. The bathroom is spacious, with a shower stall – containing the toiletries he lamented leaving behind in the old bathroom – and a large sink with an overhead mirror. Above the toilet is a shelf holding rows of towels, and he grabs one, switches off the light, and shuffles out.
Yoongi makes his way to the door and exits the bungalow, leaving it unlocked since Jeongguk did not provide him with a key, and he walks over to the pool. The end closest to his new home appears to be the deep end – which Yoongi thinks is quite suitable for the situation he has found himself in – and he decides he is not eager to jump in all at once, so he walks around to the far end, where a small set of steps sits nestled in the corner closest to the back porch of the hanok.
A light breeze gusts by, covering Yoongi in goosebumps, and he wonders if perhaps it is getting too cold to take a swim. Already, the day is beginning to wane, the sky turning a golden hue. Yoongi shuffles over to the steps and dips his toe into the water, snickering to himself because of course their pool is heated. Why wouldn't the mayor, who lives in a beautiful home with his beautiful wife out on this beautiful stretch of land, not have a heated fucking inground pool?
The water feels perfect, and Yoongi peels off the plain white tee he had been wearing and flings it and his towel over to a wicker chair with white padding that sits a few feet away. Briefly, Yoongi wonders if it is likely that anyone might join him, but considering Namjoon is unwell and the other two live in the kitchen, glued to their glasses of wine, he finds it unlikely.
Good, he thinks. All the better.
Yoongi starts slow, walking one step at a time while the water licks his ankles – cool on the very surface but warm just below. Then, with a deep breath out, and a deep breath in, he falls forward, skimming the surface as he lowers little by little until he is somewhat wading, somewhat walking, sinking down into a half-seated position hovering just above the floor.
Below the surface of the water, everything is calm and peaceful – a gentle roar of nothingness, heavy and weightless and so, perfectly alone. Above, the water sways, dips, and peaks, casting light and shadow in ever-changing patterns, glimmering and fading, ebbing and flowing. He wishes he could sit down here much longer than his body allows, and he lets out air gradually, expanding his diaphragm slowly, slowly, slowly, until his lungs begin to burn with the need for oxygen.
Yoongi lets the rest of his air out in a huff as he stands in shallow enough water that it rests at his hips, making his torso cool instantly in the evening air. A chill rocks through him, quaking in a shiver that feels so visceral – makes him feel so alive. And, with a smile, he spins and squats, walking with the water to his shoulders until, little by little, he can stand tall again with only his neck and head sticking out.
As the sun gradually works its way closer to the horizon, setting the sky ablaze in pink and gold, Yoongi swims and swims, spinning onto his back for a few laps before turning onto his front, dolphin-diving below and floating listlessly back to the top. He lays on his back and lets the water rock him to and fro, drifting with no direction – with no care in the world. He closes his eyes, he listens to birds and insects, and he simply exists.
The sound of the back door to the hanok closing stirs Yoongi, and he opens his eyes, body dipping into the water as his muscles respond to the feeling of surprise. Namjoon shuffles down the deck, along the path, and disappears into the trees, running much faster than he had the other night.
Strange, Yoongi thinks, that he is out for a run when he is unwell. Perhaps he is feeling better. Or, perhaps he is the foolish type who likes to push himself too far when all he needs is rest.
Or…perhaps he really is in a rut.
His fever – and whatever else he experiences during that time – could come and go the way Yoongi's does, building and fading gradually until it hits hard all at once, debilitating and overwhelming, or whatever alphas experience.
Yoongi continues to float, but the weightlessness feels stifled; his limbs are just a little too heavy. The euphoria has been tamped down, and he begins to slowly spin and walk around somewhat mindlessly, unsure what to do with himself. The thought of Namjoon returning and regarding him feels daunting…but, somehow, the thought of Namjoon returning and pretending he does not exist feels worse.
With small, bouncy steps, Yoongi returns to the steps in the corner of the pool, standing tall as the water pours down his torso and turns cold. Goosebumps cover his skin, and he breathes deep, relaxing breaths as he exits and pads over to the chair for the fluffy white towel that lays in a pile, tangled with his shirt.
Yoongi picks up the towel and starts with his shoulders, rubbing away water while standing with his head leaned just forward enough that the water drips onto the tan gunite floor. He rubs the towel over his arms and down his legs, not worrying too much since his shorts are sopping wet; he really just wants to get his shirt back on so he can dry his hair a little and then wrap the towel around his hips.
As he flings the towel aside and reaches for his tee, the sounds of feet tromping through the woods can be heard behind him. He holds the garment in his hand and rotates, curiously searching for the source of the sound. And when Namjoon breaks through the trees – off path – Yoongi sucks in a breath and holds it for safekeeping.
Namjoon shines in the faint rays of the quickly setting sun, hair stuck to his forehead in stalactites of sweat. His black athletic tank and shorts cling to his skin, outlining firm muscle and soft curves; he looks like a modern depiction of a god, chiseled in stone, preserved in all his glory, too good to be true.
As the musky-sweet stench of chamomile wafts from Yoongi, he turns his head away quickly and begins to shove his arms into his shirt, punching material before finding the wrong holes and then the right ones. He swallows a lump and stares ahead at the wooden deck of the hanok, waiting anxiously for Namjoon to pass and go back inside. But instead, the footsteps advance, slowing in step and at war with the accelerated pace at which Yoongi's heart pounds.
"Hey," Namjoon mutters, making Yoongi gasp, and he turns, feeling his face warm as Namjoon approaches. "Are you done already?"
Yoongi's entire nervous system screeches to a halt as he does his best not to notice the dips and curves of pectorals and abdominals, and so, so many muscles his foggy brain fails to cling to the names of. Somewhat frantically, his tongue pushes and pulls inside his mouth, forming consonants and vowels that never find sound, until finally, he mutters, "Huh?"
To his surprise, Namjoon chuckles – a soft thing with barely any sound following an abrupt gust of air, accompanied by gentle dimples creasing his cheeks. It is absolutely devastating, and Yoongi heavy-blinks and pleads silently with himself to get his shit together and think clearly.
"Are you done swimming?" Namjoon clarifies. "I was going to jump in."
All at once, Yoongi spirals. On the one hand, it would be an actual dream come true to swim with Namjoon – to be weightless and wet, and engulfed in his scent. But on the other hand – the practical hand that reminds him that Namjoon is unattainable and not his – determines that all of that is an absolute fucking nightmare.
What if the sight of Namjoon's bare chest causes Yoongi to produce slick, filling the atmosphere with his arousal? No, he thinks. Swimming with Namjoon is off the table.
And even as he deliberates, searching the darkening sky for answers, warm musk laced with sweet, tangy tangerine tickles at his senses and sends him reeling. He needs to get away, fast.
"Y-yeah," Yoongi mutters. "I feel kinda tired. I might shower and turn in."
Namjoon's brows knit ever so slightly, and Yoongi does not let himself dwell on it – pushes out the thought that Namjoon might be disappointed, of all things. As he takes a step back and lifts his hand to give a weak wave, he mutters, "Nice pool, though. Thanks for letting me swim."
A weird thing to say, Yoongi considers, since Namjoon did not really let him do anything; he is a guest in this house and was given swim shorts. But the words are already out there and it feels weird to take them back.
"Use it all you'd like," Namjoon responds politely, reaching for the bottom hem of his shirt and lifting.
And with that, Yoongi turns quickly, nearly tripping over his own feet to scamper away, back to the bungalow. He imagines he can feel Namjoon's gaze on him as he retreats, swallowing a lump of determination and disappointment as he reaches for the knob. He will not turn back and see for himself; he cannot do that.
Yoongi steps inside quickly and leans his back against the closing door, allowing his body and gravity to do the work as he sinks into the cold surface and closes his eyes. He needs to stop swooning over Namjoon; these feelings – whether a product of his heat, or genuine, or some dreadful place in between – are no good. They can only cause him hurt, in the long run. He needs to steel his heart and stop pining over the alpha who can never be his.
Days pass in the bungalow with Jeongguk bringing him breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and keeping him stocked with snacks. The food changes, sometimes braised pork belly, sometimes pizza. Each meal comes with tea and water, and a packet of bupropion in case Yoongi feels any swelling or pain. He lets the medicine pile up on the small wooden table.
Yoongi's heat is beginning to hit hard, keeping him bedridden during the day. He peels himself out of the sheets when the sun begins to set to swim by himself, desperate to calm his nerves. Then he showers and returns to the bed. When Jeongguk stops by with meals, he switches out the sheets and towels, keeping Yoongi stocked with anything he may need.
But what he really needs, deep down, is the scent and comfort of an alpha. He needs to nestle and cuddle; needs to smell and lick and feel. Already traces of Namjoon are dwindling, and he finds himself desperately rubbing his face against the thick fur blanket, in search of more.
In the past, Yoongi has been able to tamp down these urges, never having had a tangible person on his mind while his hormones rage. But this time, he aches and yearns for the man whose scent is faint on the fur – only present enough to provide an illusion of comfort, driving him mad when his thighs clench together, and he leaks with wanton need.
Yoongi has no idea how late it is when a light knocking on the door that is very clearly not Jeongguk stirs him from a restless sleep. Outside, the sky is dark, and he cannot fathom who may need him at this hour.
"Hang on," Yoongi groans as he sits up and begins to push at the sheet, tangled in fabric and sweat, drowsy and disoriented. "Just a moment."
Yoongi stumbles when he gets to his feet, breathing shallowly and attempting to press forward despite how badly his body wants to sink down, down, down to the floorboards, and seep into the earth. He reaches for the knob and turns, finding his hand is too sweaty and rubbing his palm against his briefs in order to try again.
It occurs to Yoongi in a brief, passing thought that he is completely undressed, answering the door in his underwear, but he has neither the heart nor mind to care. When he finally gets a grip on the knob to twist and pull, he lets his eyes rake up the body of his guest, to his face, taking several moments to process the sight before him.
"Yoongi?" Namjoon asks softly, covered head to toe in soft black cotton – a hoodie pulled over his head, and matching joggers.
Yoongi hums in response, not entirely certain that Namjoon really is standing before him; could he be lucid dreaming? Does it always feel so real?
"Can I—I wanted to talk to you. Is now a bad time?"
"I'm…not fully awake," Yoongi mutters. Then he chuckles, shoulders and stomach bouncing as he asks, "Am I awake? Are you a dream? This is a weird dream. Ugh, this heat is making me crazy."
"I'm—" Namjoon begins, hesitates, and shifts on his feet, eyes searching past Yoongi's head.
Yoongi thinks his pupils are blown wide, that his nostrils are flared, but of course they would be; dream Namjoon would desire him.
"Maybe I should come back another time."
With a shrug, Yoongi backs into the room, deciding that he may as well let Namjoon in; he has no idea when, in the foreseeable future, he might feel better. He pads over to a cushion and allows his body to bend and crash down into it, catching himself with his palms against the floor before he can topple completely. Namjoon enters the space and softly closes the door behind him, then he takes a much more graceful seat on the cushion to Yoongi's right.
"I was thinking…" Namjoon says, trailing off as he glances around the room, seemingly unable to hold his gaze on Yoongi. "I don't know if you know this, but I began my rut."
Yoongi laughs softly to himself, though what he finds funny, he is not certain. "Sucks to be you," he mutters with a sigh, feeling sorry for anyone who may be feeling as awful as he feels in this moment.
"I wasn't expecting it to happen, but I think it came about from…in the woods…when we were running. Your smell, and…my instincts…I—I don't know. I'm sorry, this must be awkward."
Gradually, as if ice water were trickling down from above, onto his head and pulling him from the fog of his heat, Yoongi begins to become acutely aware of the fact that this conversation is real – that he is definitely not dreaming. He watches Namjoon with wide, eager eyes, feeling a dizzying euphoria blanket him as their musks and scents mingle in the air.
"Ok," is all he can bring himself to say in response.
Namjoon chuckles, light and soft, just like the day at the pool, sending Yoongi's heart haywire. And Namjoon has to know; the way his scent hangs in the air, clinging to every corner and surface, it is unmistakable how Yoongi feels.
"I wonder if perhaps this would be a good time to…you know…" Namjoon says, cheeks darkening with blush.
"Procreate," Yoongi blurts with a heavy scoff.
Namjoon's cheeks dimple just enough to devastate as he says, "Yeah. Procreate."
"I am the most fertile," Yoongi mutters, letting his gaze drift to Namjoon's sweater, to a spot that blurs as he lets his vision drift, then sharpens as he blinks.
"And I'm the most virile," Namjoon adds.
"This is probably an opportune time," Yoongi mutters.
Silence hangs, but, for once, it is not uncomfortable. Namjoon seems to be intentionally delivering a calming scent, and Yoongi takes a deep, fortifying breath.
"Tonight is likely too soon," Namjoon responds, voice small.
Yoongi gasps, eyes flying to search Namjoon's face for any hint that he is joking, finding him looking shy.
"Yeah, maybe." Yoongi says, weighing the possibilities. "It would…gods, it would be a huge relief for me, but…maybe it's too soon."
"I'm sorry you're in here alone, dealing with this," Namjoon says, bashful. "I was too worried about, well…having you across the hall. The smell…"
"I get it," Yoongi responds. And he really does; being away from Namjoon has been for the best, he thinks. Especially with his treacherous heart desiring more than just the alpha comfort he could provide. Yoongi finds himself curious to know Namjoon too, as a person. Horrifying; it must be stopped.
"Tomorrow?" Yoongi suggests, half-joking, and Namjoon regards him with wide eyes, visibly swallows, and then nods in quick, shallow movements.
"Alright," Namjoon says, wetting his lips and standing quickly. "See you tomorrow, Yoongi."
And then, without another word or glance back, Namjoon makes for the door and exits, leaving Yoongi to spiral and spiral.
Jeongguk arrives bright and early with a bowl of fruit, water, and tea. He mutters something about Yoongi refraining from showering, no matter how sweaty he may be, and he hands over a packet of vitamins, waiting to watch Yoongi take them.
He also brings incense sticks and candles that he lights, ornate figures and shimmering crystals that he sets here and there, wreaths of dried plants that he tacks around, and soft, satin black sheets. It smells faintly like a smoky forest, but also a valley of flowers.
"Namjoon will return within the hour," Jeongguk says once he is done, holding the old bedding in his arms. "It will just be the two of you; the ritual is modern enough that there is no need for an audience. Is there anything else you need?"
Within the hour, in broad daylight. Yoongi swallows thickly. "N-no, thank you Jeongguk."
"Best of luck," Jeongguk says with a nod, "I pray for your fertility, and to your healthy body, mind, and spirit."
"Oh—okay, thanks," Yoongi mutters, stunned and unsure what to say.
With a bow of his head, Jeongguk departs, leaving Yoongi to stare at his fruit bowl.
Namjoon's knocking is recognizable now; two short taps and three quick ones. Yoongi is sitting at the table finishing his fruit and tea, and he calls, "Come in," with a quaking voice.
Seconds pass before the door opens, and Yoongi wonders if Namjoon is just as nervous as he is. He walks in wearing a black satin robe, and he kicks off sandals as he closes the door, then approaches with soft steps. He kneels beside Yoongi, and glances around the room for a brief moment before finally speaking.
"Are you ready, little omega?"
The nickname makes Yoongi's head spin, and he heavy-blinks and nods, letting his gaze drift and return.
"As ready as I'll ever be."
With a lift of one eyebrow, Namjoon says, "You don't smell ready," and Yoongi absolutely spirals. He attempts to find the words to say, failing around each syllable before Namjoon continues, saying, "I can change that, don't worry," in a voice that is deep and inviting and far too enticing for his own good.
Yoongi pushes away from the small table and stands, wearing only black briefs and a black tee. The material clings to his skin with sweat, but he has followed directions and has not showered. He makes his way to the bed and sits on the edge, and Namjoon turns, gets onto his hands and knees, and crawls.
No, not crawls – Namjoon stalks. His gaze is pointed, lips pulled into a sneer, and he slowly makes his way to Yoongi as the bone and muscle in his shoulders rise and sink hypnotically.
The dark material of the satin robe falls open, showing hints of chest, and Yoongi allows himself to look. When Namjoon gets close, he nuzzles his cheek against Yoongi's knee, and sparks fly inside him, building the aching need, causing every muscle between his legs to twitch and flutter as he produces slick.
"That's more like it," Namjoon groans, making a show of sniffing the air.
"Gods, you're infuriating," Yoongi mutters as his eyelids flicker.
"Lay down," Namjoon instructs as he sits up and begins to disrobe.
Yoongi nods and backs up, digging his heels as he pushes the blankets away and finds the center of the bed, soft and cool and covered with satin. Namjoon stands, drops the robe to the floor, and Yoongi gasps as he takes in the sight of the alpha nude with his cock hanging heavy and half-hard between his legs.
"Like what you see?" Namjoon teases, and Yoongi laughs, forcing his gaze to reach the ceiling.
"You wish," he responds, breathy and unconvincing.
The mattress dips, and Yoongi's heart becomes frantic. He has to keep reminding himself that this is really happening – that Kim Namjoon is going to breed him. When he allows himself to look at Namjoon, he finds the man towering beside him on his knees, laughing.
"What?" Yoongi asks, petulant.
"So stiff," Namjoon teases, and Yoongi realizes that he is lying in a straight line with his arms flat to his sides, and yeah, sure, he probably looks really funny. "Loosen up, omega."
"How do you expect me to do that?" Yoongi asks somewhat indignantly, tilting his head up, off the pillow, as if that will give him a better view of the man.
Without another word, Namjoon reaches down, takes Yoongi's plain black tee in both hands, and – with a growl that roars from deep in his chest – he rips it wide open, causing Yoongi to gasp and scramble as the alpha holds what is left of the material, trapping him somewhat suspended with his heels digging desperately against the mattress.
Slick trickles from him, mingling in the air with tangerine and musk – dizzying. Arousal floods and floods to the tips of his fingers and toes, his cock twitches half-hard, and his breaths heave from his lungs. He smolders under Namjoon's heated gaze, and his body begins to sink, pliant and eager. So, so eager.
Namjoon releases Yoongi's tattered shirt and leans close, caging him in with his arms and sniffing just above his shoulder, making Yoongi instinctively tilt his head to give him more access.
"Finally," Namjoon groans, voice hazy and somewhat distant, covering Yoongi in goosebumps. "I finally get to have you."
ahhhh, are we having fun, yet??? gosh, i love them so much. fun fact: this fic was written for a fest that had a 20k word cap for one shots and 40k word cap for two shots, and i ended up running out of fucking space. i went into a trance and wrote this fic like my life depended on it. and i have zero regrets.
thank you so much for reading!!! reblogs and comments are the lifeblood of this hellsite and likes are appreciated too!!! i love you!!!
tags: @codeinebelle @dasexydevitt13 @giriiboyy @mgthecat @moonleeai @m1sss1mp @spookyminyunki @yoongoboongo0🌙 comment or dm to be added to the tag list!
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One Day at a Time is copyright 2023 theharrowing, all rights reserved.
#namgi#namgi a/b/o#namjoon smut#yoongi smut#alpha namjoon#omega yoongi#bts a/b/o#bts angst#bts smut#fic: one day at a time
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okay bear with me, I’ve formulated a way that Kim and Cuno could get along
part 1/? (part 2) (part 3)
(joke extra)
#cuno#kuuno de ruyter#kim kitsuragi#disco elysium#the jingle is his keys#theyre not like...very precisely drawn lmao#also uhh that feeling when youve just sat down for your lunch and someone suddenly needs something#hold on give me a second to grumble#i will be with you momentarily#kim taking his lunch break at home was the only excuse i could come up w for him to have his kineema#whys harry not there if theyre partners wouldnt they take lunch at the same time#i don't know dont worry about it#this is why i cant write fic all of my ideas are more about the vibes#theyre all so full of holes#ah crap just notices the chairs are all messed up o well idgaf
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humph; han seojun (pt 2)
click here for humph masterlist!
part 1, part 3
story: frenemies to enemies to lovers, high school au
synopsis: seojun and you have known each other since kindergarten. you’re neighbors and even attended the same singing and piano classes. despite knowing each other for such a long time, you don’t enjoy spending time with seojun. even though you are aware of his unfairness, you keep spending time with him. when will you finally leave your childhood frenemy?
note: juyeong is reader’s brother and is not related to the lims, jugyeong doesn’t exist in this story. humph! is a story inspired by pentagon's "humph! / 접근금지". originally, this is a seungyeon fanfiction, which i posted on my wattpad. words: 4k
after the encounter, you try your best to avoid han seojun. everytime you spot him walking in the hallways, your feet start moving faster. every so often you won’t allow yourself to put all of your books into your locker and end up carrying the heavy things during the whole day. why does his locker have to be next to yours anyway?
seojun might be academically not the best, but he sure isn’t dumb.
clearly, he notices how you turn around and walk into a complete different classroom whenever he makes an appearance in the same hallway. he also notices how you always walk around with piles of books, never taking the chance to place them into your locker, since his own happens to be next to yours.
one day he spots lee suho helping you with carrying your books. smiling, you thank your friend and hand him over some of them. while heading towards the classroom together, you talk about the upcoming school trip. unfortunately, you’re not quite able to see what’s in front of you since the pile of books cover your sight slightly. yet, as seojun walks past suho, his shoulder hits suho’s which makes the books fall out of his hands with a loud thud.
quickly, you help suho collect the books on the floor and don’t fail to notice him muttering,
“what’s his problem?”
_
it’s an entertaining thursday evening as you spend time in the karaoke bar with your classmates. kang soojin, who happens to be suho’s childhood friend, asked you and suho to tag along with them. first, lee suho declined the kind offer but you luckily managed to convince him.
the noraebang is filled with laughter when taehoon, sua’s boyfriend, sings his lungs out to his favorite song. after your eyes wander from the couple too soojin and then too suho, a smile forms on your face. taehoon’s arm is around suho’s shoulder as they both sing a ballad. you’re happy that suho opens up to others more and you enjoy being able to spend time with these four, feeling like you’re making new friends.
however, it feels a little strange that seojun and chorong aren’t around. you remember how you would go to the karaoke bar every saturday, sometimes it was only seojun and you. secretly, you adored listening to his voice.
suddenly, the notification sound of your phone wakes you up from your short trance.
juyeong: why is seojun hyung’s bike in front of our house?
it’s a message from your younger brother. why hasn’t seojun picked up his bike yet?
while the others continue singing, you excuse yourself and walk outside in order to call your younger brother. patiently, you walk back and forth, waiting for him to answer the call. you sigh when he doesn’t pick up and are about to dial his number again.
before you can do so, you jump and let out a yelp at a familiar voice,
“y/n?”
it’s han seojun.
frightened you turn around, palm pressed to your heart.
“you scared me!” closing your eyes, you let out a relieved breath.
“you’re here too?” seojun ignores your shocked reaction.
“yes.”
“with whom?”
taken aback, you stay silent for a short moment, not knowing how to respond. clearly, you’re aware that seojun, for some reason, isn’t on good terms with suho. therefore, you wouldn’t want him to start a conflict with the innocent boy right here, at the karaoke bar.
“uh, i’m here with soojin a-”
abruptly you trail off when you spot lee suho himself at the entrance, searching for you while his glance shifts through the place. luckily, seojun’s back is facing the entrance. the boy in front of you waits for you to continue but is caught off guard when you pull him around the corner, before suho can find you.
“what are you doing?” seojun questions with lines forming between his brows.
nervously, you try to come up with an excuse while avoiding his gaze, checking behind his back if suho saw you,
“your motorcycle-”
“look who we have over here! seojunnie!”
at the sound of lee sungyong and his gang you stop talking and observe an annoyed expression appear on seojun’s face.
when you turn around to face them, they let out surprised laughs,
“y/n, long time no see!”
“why do you have to here.” seojun groan.
soon, you sense that something bad could happen any moment which makes you dart your glance around the area nervously, looking for a possible way out. timidly, you draw your mouth into a straight line before your fingers firmly grip around seojun’s, pulling him away from the others without thinking twice. the young boy seems shocked by your actions as his legs adjust to your pace.
in no time, you find yourself running away from lee sungyong and his gang, your hand still clutched on seojun’s wrist. adrenaline courses through your veins as you pass several stores, pushing people out of your way. to the sound of lee sungyong shouting your names, you keep your breath steady, push harder and run even faster.
seojun himself forces his legs to push harder, his lungs straining. his breath thickening, he steals a quick glance at you. the wind whips your hair away from your face as you face forwards with an uneasy look. his mind is frantic with thoughts: how is it possible to move this fast?
yet, at this great speed, you can barely see a few feet ahead of you. your feet nearly slip from beneath you when your shoes pound heavily across the ground and mud splashes up your leg.
noticing this, seojun rapidly takes your hand into his own without slowing down and takes the lead. since the boy is familiar with this dark area, he sprints around the next corner. the shoutings behind you don’t stop, demanding you to stop running. after sprinting for solid minutes, you finally hide behind a wall when seojun finds a way to trick the gangsters.
heart pounding faster than ever, you’re still concerned that they will find you. seojun squats down next to you, his legs tired from all the running. when your surroundings are safe, you swiftly stand up while your breath comes in short gasps.
claiming you’re tired would be an understatement. you are exhausted. still you feel relieved that you could escape the group of boys.
moments later seojun sighs with annoyance behind you.
“why did you have to drag me away?” the boy complains before you turn around to face him with a frown on your face.
it’s dark and quiet outside, indicating that it’s probably really late. the air is cold which makes you shiver for a moment. when you wait for him to continue instead of answering, seojun groans, not believing that you seriously don’t understand what he’s trying to point out.
“they’ll think it’s weird of us to run away like cowards. ah, you’re really dumb.”
“i’m dumb?”, you raise your voice with squinted eyes before he can leave,
“you’re the one who believes fish are wet.”
“fish are wet.” the boy slowly turns around to face you again.
“they’re not because they’re surrounded by water. once they get out of-”
“it’s water, y/n!”
it’s not worth arguing with someone as dumb as him.
with a mirthless smile you shake your head,
“you’re the dumb one.”
after that you leave to make your way home, completely forgetting to ask seojun about his motorcycle. the boy himself watches you walk away with a little worry. shouldn’t he walk you home at this time? ah, never mind.
and so he walks home by himself, not used to the fact that his motorcycle is away from him.
_
the next day in school seems like a regular one. fortunately, you were able to get enough sleep this time. thankfully, seojun’s motorcycle was no longer parked in front of your house this morning. not expecting anything spectacular to happen, you enter the classroom with several books in your arms, like always. however, as soon as some of your classmates notice you, they walk to your seat with widen eyes.
“y/n! where were you last night?”, soojin asks you with a calm tone.
sua hits your shoulder playfully and whines, “do you know how worried we were?!”
oh, no. you completely forgot to contact them after your small adventure with han seojun.
“poor suho looked everywhere for you.”, taehoon pouts, his glance darting to suho, who was sitting on his seat peacefully.
after hearing taehoon’s words, you turn your head to the innocent boy with regret written on your face,
“i’m so sorry.”
“don’t worry, y/n. we’re glad you’re okay.” suho smiles at you as the others agree.
the day passes normally, like you predicted, until lunch break.
considering kim chorong is nowhere to be seen, and you’re trying to stay away from han seojun, you sit next to you other friends during lunch. the same people from the karaoke bar talk about their plans after school, when suddenly everyone looks up to the sight of han seojun’s. his loud steps and irritated expression catches all the attention in the canteen.
however, you feel concerned when you’re approached by him, your heart beating a little faster.
“yah, y/l/n y/n.”
you gulp when he carefully talks in a controlled voice, glaring at you through his cat like eyes,
“come out.”
the whole lunch room gasps with surprise at his statement, anticipating on what will happen next. just when he grabs your arm to drag you out of the room, lee suho steps between you both, slapping seojun’s grip away from your arm,
“what do you think you’re doing?”, he speaks with a low voice.
“you better stay out of this.”
han seojun hisses and holds on your uniform this time, pulling you away from the others.
your head is filled with endless questions when you’re forced to follow him out. what have you done wrong? the corridor is empty and silent as the boy in front of you pounds his hand on the wall behind you, leaving only a small gap between your faces. your back is pressed against the cold wall.
blown away by the sudden closeness you swallow dryly, unable to wet your parched throat. his sudden change in mood slightly intimates you.
“you think you can piss me off easily?”
you’re taken aback when he snaps.
“wh-what are you talking about?” nervously, you stammer while excessively blinking.
after that, seojun laughs with edge, eyes leaving yours for a moment to remain his calm. why are you pretending to not know? seconds later he bends down to your height, now even closer than before. eyes looking deeply into yours, he tries to read you. yet, the only thing he’s able to see is your confusion.
“do you believe giving my keys to that bastard is funny?”
“i have no clue what you’re talking about.”
luckily, the worry in you melts down a little but you’re still confused.
“you’re really starting to get on my nerves now. this morning lee sungyong came to me with these, and my damaged bike.”
frustrated, seojun takes his keys out of his jacket-pocket and holds them up for you too see. a line forms between your brows when you stare at the keys, waiting for him to continue,
“and what do i have to do with that?”
“are you kidding me?! you’re the person who had my keys the whole time!” seojun hisses, his voice raising which causes you to flinch lightly,
“my bike was parked in front of your house, remember? you gave my keys to that bastard!”
“i didn’t have your keys!” finally you defend yourself, slowly getting annoyed by his behavior.
“you did, i gave them to you last week!”
seojun’s face is still insanely close to yours.
“you did, but i gave them back to you.” you look into his eyes with confusion.
“what?” seojun’s expression reflects your own.
“i-i put them into your pocket. didn’t you notice?”
oh no. he absolutely didn’t.
“when did you do that?”
“the day after you gave them to me. i thought you would notice.” you mumble the last part quietly, suddenly feeling like it’s your fault.
precisely, you remember how you put seojun’s keys back in his jacket, which was hanging on his seat when he wasn’t around. taking the opportunity, you decided to quickly put them in there without having to face seojun for it, since you weren’t on good terms.
all this time you wondered why the boy wouldn’t pick up his bike. it was standing there whole time, which made you believe that maybe he truly wanted to quit riding his motorcycle.
however, it turns out that he never noticed. how did the others find his keys, though? was it your fault? perhaps you should have simply handed them to him personally instead of being stubborn.
seojun sighs with frustration and runs his hand through his hair,
“how did they get them then?”
suddenly it all clicks. everything makes sense when you remember every detail from last night. with unease your eyes widen,
“the jacket you wore last night... it was the navy one, right?”
he thinks for a moment before nodding, waiting for you to continue.
“i put the keys in that one. maybe it slipped out while we were running?”
you glance around, not focusing on anything as you try to avoid his eyes. this doesn’t feel good at all.
a momentary look of discomfort crosses seojun’s face. he realizes that you’re possibly right and that he shouldn’t have accused you to do something like that. the fact that he already messed up by telling suho to stay away from you makes everything even worse. he feels guilty when he catches you looking around nervously. it’s not your fault.
right when he’s about to form words, two students run past him which causes him to stumble over his feet in shock. on the spur of the moment, his body is pressed on yours. at the sudden contact, you let out a small gasp when you notice that you’re stuck between him and the wall. one of his palms is still pressed against the wall behind you, while the other one holds on your shoulder to steady himself.
both of you look up at the same time, embarrassed by his sudden actions. when your eyes meet, your heart pounds against your ribs as if trying to reach thousand beats. it’s so intense that you internally pray for him not to hear it. his face is only a few centimetres away from yours which makes you freeze on spot. somehow you feel his breath on your cheek and you think you’re about to lose it.
why are you so nervous suddenly?
why does his gaze make your heart beat so fast?
carefully, you study seojun’s face. his dark hair partly falls over his forehead, his eyes now relaxed, cheeks tinted a bright shade of pink.
in fact, seojun is blushing profusely. just like you, he’s taken aback by the closeness and can’t help but gaze into your eyes deeply. he too, feels strangely nervous, a little too nervous if truth be told.
after what seems like seconds, you can’t stand it anymore and forcefully hit his forehead with your head, which makes him stumble backwards.
probing the pained area, seojun winces, “what the hell?!”
“i-i told you i didn’t give them your keys!”, you decide to come up with that instead of showing how the boy effected you so easily,
“you always put the blame on me.” after mumbling that you rush back to the canteen in super speed, hoping for your poor heart to calm down.
seojun only watches you sprint away, unaware of how he made you feel. rubbing his forehead painfully, he shakes his head in order to get rid of his thoughts.
there’s no way. i should probably just see a doctor.
_
time passes quickly and finally the important day has come: the school trip. everyone from your grade was talking about the upcoming event the whole time, planing several games and activities. for you it seems nice too but since you’re avoiding seojun, which also automatically makes it harder to see chorong, you worry how you’re going to spend the whole time on your own. it’s a bummer that lee suho refused to join the trip. certainly, you attempted to convince your friend but unsuccessful.
as soon as you arrive at the school gates, where everyone is already waiting with their suitcases, you feel uneasy. nearing the others, you concern about the fact that you’ll probably have to sit alone in the bus. yet, when you finally approach the others you spot suho standing next to soojin, sua and taehoon. instantly, a smile appears on your face and you greet them, adding that you’re happy for suho to join them. glancing around, it doesn’t take you long to see han seojun next to kim chorong. without looking at them for too long, you focus back on your other friend group with little uncertainty.
one by one, students enter the bus after putting their suitcases into the bus trunk. for some reason you happen to be the last person to enter the bus. after putting your luggage into the trunk, you’re ready to go inside. yet, out of nowhere chorong appears in front of you with puppy eyes, begging for you to pack his snacks into your backpack, since his own is already full. not thinking about it too much, you agree and start placing them into your bag. chorong smiles with satisfaction and thanks you before his eyes check behind him. he winks at sua and gives her a sign after making sure you’re not paying attention to him.
sua then pushes her boyfriend and soojin inside when nobody is left, leaving chorong and you alone. eventually you manage to push in all the snacks into your bag. you’re surprised when you see that everyone is already in the bus and follow chorong inside as well.
as soon as you enter, suho finds your eyes and waves at you, indicating that he saved you a seat next to him. happily, you nod and wait for the others in front of you to take their seats.
you fail to notice chorong’s eyes widen when he stops in front of you, not allowing you to sit next to lee suho. sua understands the situation and slightly pushes kang soojin towards the empty seat next to suho.
oh, well.
both of your friends exchange surprised looks. however, seconds later soojin smiles at the boy next to him, starting a conversation.
as a matter of fact, you feel upset. disappointed, you move on, eyes not leaving chorong’s back. who are you going to sit next to now?
when the boy in front eventually arrives at the very back, you’re concerned. surprisingly, kim chorong takes the seat behind han seojun, leaving the last seat, which was next to seojun, for you.
han seojun doesn’t bother looking up, as he’s focused on his phone. clearing your throat, you request,
“chorong-ah, change seats with me.”
“nah, i like this seat.” stubbornly, he crosses his arms across his chest, head leaning against the window with closed eyes.
the short conversation catches seojun’s attention and he looks up with curiosity. after taking a look at the filled seats his eyes land and you. he’s surprised when he notices that you have to take seat next to him.
letting out a quiet sigh, you give chorong one last glare before sitting next to seojun. this is either going to be really awkward or provoking.
of course, once again you don’t notice chorong peeking at the both of you before giving sua and taehoon a thumbs up, content that their plan worked successfully.
“are you sure this is a good idea?” taehoon whispers to his girlfriend,
“they look like they’ll throw hands at each other any moment.”
“ ah, don’t worry. they’ll make up sooner than you think.” sua takes a quick glimpse of you plugging in your earpods without exchanging any words with the boy next to you.
but sua was wrong.
half an hour already passes and you still haven’t spoken any word. although, there‘s a small desire of talking to you in seojun, he can‘t make himself form the right words.
right when chorong is about to lose hope and fall asleep, something finally happens.
feeling tired from all the packing last night, you sense your eyelids getting heavier and you’re struggling to keep them open. nonetheless, you’re no longer able to do so and you fall asleep instantly.
out of the blue seojun feels your head resting on his shoulder. the boy is dumbstruck when his eyes widen, holding in his breath for a moment. his body shuts down and he doesn’t know how to react when his posture stiffens. besides that, he feels the skin on his shoulder tingle.
seojun almost curses under his breath when his heart races once again. this time, there’s a fluttering in his stomach as well, causing him to go speechless. from the corner of his eye, he observes your expression. a slight frown forms on your face, hair covering parts of it, lips in a small pout.
no matter what you do, you look so effortlessly... good. it doesn’t make a difference to him if you’re annoyed, confused, happy or simply tired. he always notices himself looking at you the same way, with adoring eyes. attempting to ignore it, he chose to tease you, not daring to ever show you.
he knew he went to far and feels stupid for his actions. yet, why doesn’t he just apologize? perhaps he doesn’t want to accept the fact that you mean much more to him. perhaps he’s afraid he’ll never mean more to you.
still asleep, you unknowingly move your head closer to seojun’s chest, feeling more comfortable this way. after that, he feels your arm wrap around his torso, almost snuggling him.
the boy’s heart melts at the sight of you. although his heart feels like exploding, he doesn’t want to admit that he kinda enjoys the skin-ship with his you. right when he’s about to run his hand through your hair, the sound of a camera catches his attention.
he looks up to find sua taking a polaroid picture, chorong awing at the sight of his two friends sharing a moment.
“aw, you guys are so cute!” sua jumps up and down, while handing seojun the polaroid picture.
suddenly seojun gets aware of his surroundings and the situation he finds himself in. he blinks a few times before moving his shoulder purposely while coughing, making your head fall down in a swift move.
before it hits his lap, you open your eyes and rub them with a displeased expression,
“what happened?”, you ask with a low voice, completely clueless.
“why- why do you fall asleep on my shoulder? that’s so uncomfortable. get a pillow or something!”
seojun stammers in the beginning, eyes not able to meet your tired ones. your friends sigh with annoyance and return to their seats, disappointed by seojun’s change in mood.
“sorry.” after rubbing your eyes, you steal a short glance at seojun. you’re slightly embarrassed and fix your hair while sitting up properly.
the boy only shrugs, quickly hiding the polaroid in the pocket inside of his jacket before you can see it.
seemingly, this trip is not going to be easy for han seojun.
little does he know, this was only the beginning of cupid chorong’s plan.
_
to be continued...
#i stayed up till 3 am for this#part 3 coming soon#to be continued#humph#han seojun#han seojun imagines#han seojun imagine#han seojun fluff#han seojun x reader#seojun#seojun x reader#hwang inyeop#true beauty#seojun imagine#han seojun fanfiction
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Intentional - Part 1
Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader (she/her)
Summary: Landing your first real job at JYPE was something short of a miracle. You were prepared to face the new struggles of this elusive career whilst moving to a new country, however, nothing could have prepared you for him. Will stolen glances, secret touches, and hushed nights spent in the recording room ever be enough for the both of you?
Genre: idol!bang chan au, forbidden relationship, coworkers to eventual lovers, slow burn
Warnings: none right now, eventual smut,
Word Count: 7.3k
Masterlist
A/N: hey yall this is my first ff im posting on tumblr :D im kinda scared to post but i hope anybody who stumbles on lil ol’ me will join me along the way :) also important!!! i made oc/reader asian cus i am lol (and this whole thing is basically a glorified self insert) so plz keep this in mind when reading!! oh god i didnt realize how slow this first part was sry...
The cold silence of the room felt like stabs at your inside. You commanded your feet to stop bouncing up and down as you unconsciously started to bite off the dead skin of your bottom lip. The white corporate light from above reflected off your brand new lanyard hanging delicately from your neck. You felt the coarse blue fabric rub against your neck as you mindlessly fiddled with your lanyard; the newly printed photo of your face stared back at you with a smile.
The creak of the door to your left was what broke you from your nervous fidgets. Whipping your head up from your lanyard, you immediately stood up ready to bow to whoever came through that door.
It was a girl. She looked around the same age as you, if not older. Her attire was what gave her away. Her appearance essentially mirrored yours: hair tied back into a ponytail with a white blouse and black work pants. She also had the familiar blue ‘JYPE’ labeled strap hanging from her neck.
“Hello,” you spoke meekly, scared to disturb the cold silence that had a hold on the room you were in.
“Hello,” she replied. “My name is Choi Na-eun, I’m the new social media strategist intern and today is my first day.”
This is so relieving, you thought, another newbie to share the stress with me.
“This is my first day too,” you perked up, “I’ll be starting as the new junior Chinese marketing assistant.”
Getting the acceptance email from JYP Entertainment was definitely a high point in your life. The feeling of butterflies swarming your insides as you clicked the email open only to see your acceptance was immediately locked as a core memory. All the years of memorizing thousands of Korean and English vocabulary flashcards, the panic attacks before your finance exams, and the many, many late night coffee breaks were worth it the moment you received your first legitimate job offer, and from the esteemed JYP Entertainment company no less.
“Chinese marketing?” Na-eun asked. “So you aren’t from here, I take it.”
You shook your head. “I am from China. I completed my degree a while ago with a major in Language and a minor in Business. To be honest, I’ve done internships back home, but it’s been my dream to move to a new country.”
All of what you said was true. Up until now, your surroundings have never changed in all of your twenty-three years living. From the walk with your grandmother to daycare to the vast campus of your university, the view of your city has never changed. Your social circle stayed stagnant since you were able to talk and your love life was — for a lack of a better word — uneventful.
It wasn’t until the day you decided to start applying for careers outside your home country that you felt hopeful. Hopeful that you could find an escape from your inert lifestyle and escape the burnout and stress that has been building up over the years. And so, on a day when you were feeling unusually confident, you gathered up the courage and spent hours sending out applications to organizations all over Asia that pertained to your specific degree. The applications were mainly for small jobs at small companies, however, your strange spike of motivation gave you the confidence to apply to the everso esteemed JYP Entertainment located in Korea. Of course you knew about this company — you and your friends played songs by ‘Twice’ nonstop back in highschool — but you didn’t realize the full power that this company had on the entertainment market until you did your full research. To say that you thought you had no chance was an understatement. This application was so far of a reach that you purposefully forced your mind to erase all memory of even applying.
However, with your education, your work experience, and whatever tiny bit of luck you had, you somehow made it through the initial application process. Then the next. And the next. Then the interview. And now, you were nervously sitting in this white painted room with Na-eun, in a completely new country, waiting for your manager to come greet you.
“So you’re from China? You’ve got to teach me chinese sometime.” Na-eun smiled.
You giggled in return while nodding your head. You were relieved that you’ve met a potential friend so early in your career in this company. This was one of your big worries. With your social circle being so stagnant for the majority of your life back in China, you rarely had the opportunity to meet new people, much less make new friends.
You were about to inquire more into Na-eun’s life when the door to your left abruptly opened. In the blink of an eye, three new people strutted in — two women and one man. They seemed to be higher status than you and Na-eun judging by their attire. All three were styled in some type of blazer and dress pants and there was no lanyard to be found on any of them.
“Hello new employees,” the man greeted. Judging by his face, he looked to be in his late thirties at the least. His hair was styled back neatly and his lips slanted up, giving him a fox-like appearance. “I am Executive Manager Kim. Joined beside me on the left is Social Media Manager An and to my right is Marketing Manager Chen.”
Both you and Na-eun immediately stood up to bow and introduce yourselves.
“Hello. My name is Choi Na-eun, I’m the new social media strategist intern.” Na-eun said.
“Hello. My name is y/n, I’m the new junior Chinese marketing assistant.” You repeated after her, copying exactly what she said. You did not want to screw anything up on your first day, especially your first impression.
Manager Kim reached over to Na-eun, introducing himself and giving her a firm handshake. He then slowly moved over to you, and reached for your hand.
“Y/n,” he gave time for your name to settle on his tongue as he gave a sly smile. “You’re not from here, aren't you?”
You shook your head ‘no’. “No, sir. I’m from China where I studied language and business. I hope to do well here as the Chinese marketing assistant.” You replied, mentally cursing yourself for sounding so timid.
“I’m glad to hear,” Manager Kim chuckled, “I’m sure you’ll treat me and your other managers well.”
You felt an uncomfortable shiver pass through you as he brushed his thumb along your hand before letting go. This feeling was excused as nervousness, after all, this was your first day and your first time meeting your higher-ups.
You introduced yourself to Manager Chen, assuming that she would be the one you were to assist in your time here at JYPE. Judging by her last name, you presumed that she was Chinese as well.
“Forgive me for being so straight up Manager Chen, but are you Chinese?” You asked.
“That is alright, y/n,” she smiled, “I’m not. My Husband is, but I’ve lived in China for more than half my life. I don’t want to brag, but my mandarin has gotten proficient over the past decade or so.”
Proficient? It’s amazing. You thought. This first day was turning out better than you thought. Other than the weird feeling you received from Manager Kim, everything was turning out splendid. A potential friend and a manager that could speak your first language.
“Since it’s about noon right now,” Manager Kim took a look at his watch, “What do you all think about some lunch?”
The other managers nod their heads in agreement and gestures for you and Na-eun to follow them out of the waiting room you were in for so long.
The whole building seemed so clean. With every corner lit, by natural light or artificial light, you could clearly see that every room, every piece of furniture and decor had been purposefully placed. You couldn’t help but have a stupid look of awe plastered on your face as you mindlessly follow your superiors over to the cafeteria.
You turned your head over to Na-eun and gave her a tilt of the eyebrow, silently saying wow, this is where we work.
With the turn of a corner and several silent strides, your little group made it to the cafeteria.
The difference between your claustrophobic waiting room and this vast room was astonishing. With countless tables and romantic yellow lighting, this place almost resembled a five star restaurant. You’ve never seen a cafeteria as extravagant and clean as this before. However, to be fair, you’ve never had the experience of working with such a large corporation before.
The managers led you to the serving station where you grabbed yourself a tray and proceeded to spoon small portions of rice and side dishes onto your plate. This cuisine was different to what you were used to, but nonetheless looked delicious. You were prepared for the small cultural differences, especially with the food, but from everything you’ve witnessed so far, the culture shock would be easier to overcome than what you’ve anticipated.
“Have this soup y/n,” Manager Kim’s grating voice came from in front of you, interrupting your inner monologue. “It’s good for your complexion.”
As Manager Kim hands over the bowl of soup, you feel the sleeve of his blazer brush up against your shoulder, causing the pit of your stomach to drop.
First day nerves. That was what this feeling was. You thought.
You quietly thanked him with a small nod and walked briskly from the service line, trying to find where Na-eun went with the other two managers. Thankfully, they were just a step away and you quickly made your way over to the comfortable spot beside Na-eun. She gave you a small grin and you both followed your way to a table right in the middle of the room.
Soon, all five chairs of the table got filled and sounds of chopsticks tapping and scraping against plates and bowls filled your ears. An awkward silence dominates your table as you start to pick at your food.
“So,” Manager Chen cleared her throat, “after lunch I was thinking we should go to a meeting room and discuss Miss. Y/n’s role in our new project.”
“I was thinking the same for our new Intern Choi.” Manager An cut in, “What do you think, Manager Kim?”
“It all sounds good. I will be accompanying Manager Chen to her meeting room as I wish to also further discuss the preliminary steps for our project.” Manager Kim looked from Manager Chen over to you.
“Project?” You ask.
“We’ve had a very successful year with our idol groups and we wanted to ride this success and start marketing in China. Recently, we’ve noticed a very large and growing Chinese audience for this group. I’m sure you’re very curious now, however we can discuss further details once we are in the meeting room.” Manager Chen replies while taking a sip of the water in her glass.
Manager Chen appeared to be a very professional and respectable woman. With prominent collarbones and wide shoulders, she easily looked the part of a confident and adored manager. She needed minimal makeup to highlight her tall cheekbones, and even with a short heel on her feet she seemed to tower over you. However, her warm and comforting voice was what broke her intimidating demeanour. Just listening to her voice felt like you were back in your high school classroom with your favourite teacher explaining the motif of a sad love poem.
After some more awkward conversations mixed with a few work discussions, the five of you finished the delicious food on your trays.
“Please excuse me whilst I head to the restroom” Na-eun spoke up after your group finished clearing the table.
“Please excuse me as well.” You quickly followed, bowing as you both ventured off to the washrooms.
I should get her number so I’m not completely a loner in this place, you thought to yourself. And so, after a quick inner struggle to speak up, you finally decided to ask.
“Hey, should we exchange contacts? I don’t wanna look like the newbie eating in the cafeteria alone after today.” You chuckled.
“Totally!” Na-eun beamed. “I was actually thinking the same thing…”
And so, you both quickly exchanged each other's contact as you made your way to the restrooms.
The hall of the washrooms were narrow, hidden away from the main cafeteria. You walked in, deciding you only wanted to retouch your hair and makeup before your first official meeting. You carefully fix the loose hairs that somehow escaped the confines of your elastic and dab on a fresh layer of foundation before applying your lipstick which rubbed off while eating. Looking over at Na-eun, you see she’s quite in the zone redoing her mascara.
“Hey, I’ll just wait for you in the hall.” You said.
Na-eun gave you a disinterested nod back as she kept focusing on her mascara.
You walked to the end of the hall, leaned against the wall, and pulled out your phone. Smiling, you opened the virtual Tamagotchi app and saw your little friend staring back at you, bouncing up and down. The bundle of virtual pixels happily bounced as you fed and bathed it, making you happier in return. Playing this game, you were so entranced with your phone that the abrupt closing of the washroom doors broke you out of your hypnosis fast, causing you to flinch and drop your phone.
You looked up, only to see a brown haired man wearing a long sleeved black shirt. The hem of his sleeve fell, covering his hand as he bent down to pick up your phone. He stood back up, fully facing you now and you immediately recognized who he was. You weren’t a fool, of course you did all your research on the artists of JYPE before applying for the job. Looking down at you right now, holding your phone in his hand, was Bang Chan of Stray Kids.
The wispy tufts of his brown hair bounced over his forehead as he stepped over to you. He smiled, his dimple poking out of his cheek, and handed your phone back to you. “I think you dropped this.”
Blushing tomato red, you embarrassingly accepted the phone, trying not to make your shaking hands noticeable. It seemed like that failed, however, as you noticed him glance at your hands and dimple grow deeper.
“Thank you.” You meekly chirped and lowered your head, still in awe that you somehow bumped into a JYPE idol in the bathroom hallway of a cafeteria.
“It’s good that there’s no cracks.” Bang Chan said, looking in your eyes.
You looked back into his eyes. His smile never left his face, and you physically felt the warmth radiating off his body like rays from the sun. Some boring, objective part of your brain knew this interaction only lasted a fraction of a second, but you swore that time froze.
“Hyung!” A distant voice called.
Your trance was broken as Bang Chan looked over to the person calling his name. He turned back to you, politely bowed, and casually sauntered over to the man who called him.
What just happened? Your inner monologue ran, still trying to process the embarrassing interaction. The scent of his cologne lingered, swirling the atmosphere around your body.
Thankfully, you didn’t have too much time to dwell on this interaction as Na-eun finally opened the washroom doors and was making her way toward you.
You and Na-eun trailed behind the managers until you reached the set of elevators. It was there where you had to unfortunately separate from your comfort work buddy as she hopped in the elevator across from yours with Manager An. The other two managers led you to the elevator at the end and pressed the button for your destination floor. The ride in the elevator was silent. You stood there, fiddling with your nails.
Once the elevator gave the ding of arrival, the three of you headed down a hall where you presumed had the meeting room.
Manager Kim took a look at the watch on his wrist. “We are a minute late, everybody should be there already. Enter silently and respectfully.” He said in a stern voice.
You reached the frosted glass door of the meeting room and entered through the already opened door. The managers followed behind you with Manager Chen being the last one in and closing the door.
Your eyes widened at whom you saw.
There was Bang Chan, who sat in all his glory, staring right into your eyes with his mouth ajar. His shocked expression didn't last long, however, as he quickly composed himself to fit with the professional atmosphere of this room.
But why was he here? You thought. He’s an artist, isn’t this a management meeting?
Your inner monologue was broken by Manager Kim’s stern voice. “Y/n, why don’t you sit with me for today?” He asked with a slight tilt of the lips. His hand was hovering above your back, almost guiding you to the seat just right of the head chair.
Your heart rate quickened. There was no way that you could handle sitting right beside a high position manager on your first day. You barely knew what your duties entailed, you definitely could not handle the pressure of this seat today. You whipped your head around to look for Manager Chen. She was already sitting in her seat, looking like she was right at home.
“Manager Kim, if you don’t mind, I would like to sit in this position for today, '' a voice spoke up, “I have a lot of new ideas I’d like to share that are written in my notes.”
Bang Chan.
He paused a brief second, eyes switching between you and Manager Kim, and raised his iPad to show the screen filled with words.
“I don’t mind at all, go ahead.” Manager Kim monotonously replied. He then made his way to the head chair.
You looked over at Bang Chan, trying to subtly send the most grateful facial expression over to him. He returned your look, slightly grinning as his fingers tapped on the screen of his iPad and sat down to the right of Manager Kim. You looked over to see Manager Chen gesturing you to sit in the chair beside her and swiftly made your way over. At your seat, she handed you a notepad and pen, both adorned with the JYPE logo.
“Now, as of 1:02 p.m., September first, the meeting will officially begin.” Manager Kim clasped his hands together on top of the table. “As most of you already know, we are in the preliminary stages of planning a Chinese debut for our artist group ‘Stray Kids’. All we have right now is the estimated timeline, which is four months. We have a basic grasp of the concept we are working towards, however, as you all know, trends are always changing and growing. While we are working to create a new and original concept for Stray Kids, we also want the concept to gather as much audience reception as possible.”
Wow. That was a lot to take in. Your hands struggled to keep up with writing down what Manager Kim was saying. You knew this relatively new group was really starting to explode in the past year, but a debut in another country? This group must work really hard to even have the company consider a step as risky as this. So this is why Bang Chan is also involved in this meeting.
You peaked your head up from your notepad. Bang Chan sat across from you, one hand on his chin and the other one holding the pen to his tablet.
Manager Kim then carefully discussed the duties that each group in the room would take. Many of the jobs were directly involved with developing the concept itself, such as producing music, concept art, and theme development. Your pen never took a break from gliding on the notepad as you hurriedly jotted down everything that Manager Kim said.
Eventually, Manager Kim’s delegations moved to Manager Chen. “Manager Chen, I’ll let you take over from here.”
“Thank you Manager Kim,” Manager Chen cleared her throat. “While my main job here was to market Korean comebacks towards the Chinese audience, this new project changes things up a bit. Now, not only will I be in charge of marketing to the Chinese audience, but I will also be directly in charge of the concept itself. I will be working carefully with our team in China to monitor the trends which we can incorporate into our debut.
“This is my new assistant, y/n,” She turned and gestured to you. You politely nodded your head. “She will be gathering information on useful trends and reporting back to me, as well as some translating. Please report any ideas that you deem useful to her by the end of every week for her to sort through and deliver to me.”
You almost want to call Manager Chen crazy for giving you so much power, after all, you were only starting out as her assistant. Despite this, however, you were determined to go above and beyond with the new responsibilities given to you, after all, you knew that choosing to work in an organization as big as JYPE would take blood, sweat, and tears.
After some clarifications given by Manager Chen and a few more questions directed at her, Manager Kim took the reins back in his hands.
“Now, as I’m sure you all know, this is Bang Chan: the leader of Stray Kids. Although our management team is in charge of this debut, we like to include the opinions of artists whenever possible. He will make an appearance whenever he can and act as a representative of Stray Kids, sharing their ideas and opinions.” Manager Kim explained.
Bang Chan politely introduced himself, and quickly went on to express some concerns of his members. He made sure that each concern was answered thoroughly by Manager Kim before moving on to the next.
“As for our concept ideas,” Bang Chan’s soft brown eyes met yours, “will I have to report to y/n?”
You felt your ears redden.
“You could, yes,” Manager Kim straightened his back, “but if you find the weekly deadlines too much of a problem, you may just report to me or at any subsequent meeting.”
“No worries sir,” Bang Chan’s eyes lingered on yours for a fraction of a second more before grinning at Manager Kim, “I’m always punctual.”
The rest of the meeting consisted of more introductions and preliminary plans. After about an hour, everybody seemed satisfied with the contents of the meeting and were starting to pack up all their clutter on the table. You looked over at Manager Chen, silently asking what should I do next?
Manager Chen smiled. “Let's head to my floor. I can give you a quick tour, you can get settled at your desk. I have some paperwork that I’m almost done with; I’m sure you’ll have no problem finishing it for me.” She already was standing up and straightening over the creases of her jacket.
You stood up as well and followed behind Manager Chen like a lost baby duckling. You both made your way over to Manager Kim to bid farewell. You politely thanked him, said your goodbyes, and were about to leave when he stopped the two of you.
“Manager Chen, let’s go out for drinks tonight.” Manager Kim took a look at the intricate watch on his wrist. “With our whole team, of course. It’ll be a welcoming night and we can get to know the people on our team better.”
“That’s a great idea, Manager Kim,” Manager Chen nodded at his idea in approval. She turned on her iPad to quickly get a glimpse at her schedule. “What do you think y/n? Can you make it tonight? I know this is very last moment, but I think it’ll be a great opportunity for you to get to know your coworkers better.”
“I should be able to make it.” You definitely could make it. You had no plans anyways.
“Am I invited to this top secret party you’re all having?” A now very distinguishable voice came from behind you. Bang Chan stared at Manager Kim with a very mischievous expression.
“Would your manager allow it?” Manager Kim questioned, knitting his eyebrows.
“I’m on a diet, so I can’t drink alcohol or eat anything,” Bang Chan’s nose scrunched up in annoyance, “but I want to be as involved as I can. Just because I’m an idol doesn’t mean I can’t help behind the scenes as well.”
“Very well,” Manager Kim nodded with a fixed expression, “Let’s all meet at that restaurant about a block away west. I’ll go tell the others.” And with that, Manager Kim left you, Manager Chen, and Bang Chan to stand in awkward silence.
“Well,” Bang Chan cleared his throat and clapped his hands together, “I’ll get going as well to do some work now, but it was nice meeting the both of you.”
“You as well.” Manager Chen replied for the both of you and Bang Chan left soon after.
Manager Chen then led you to the elevators again and you headed up yet another few floors to reach your destination. You nervously fiddled with your hair as you silently waited behind your boss, looking up at the smooth lines of her blazer every few seconds. The elevator doors dinged, letting you know of its arrival. The two of you swiftly headed out the elevators and walked to what you presumed was Manager Chen’s office area. You kept following behind Manager Chen in silence before you stopped in front of a set of doors that looked identical to the ones at the previous meeting room. Manager Chen opened the doors for you, and you headed in.
You paused a step in, looking wide-eyed at the interior. The office was clean. A big glass desk sat right in the middle of the vast room in front of a huge set of windows. There were a couple of soft looking chairs placed right before the desk with a huge rug right underneath it. Over to your left, you spotted a water dispenser with a kettle right beside it. You stared at the room a bit longer before realizing you must have looked very stupid with that astonished look on your face.
“Is this your office, Manager Chen?” You asked.
“Yes. It seems that you like it,” She chuckled. You felt the heat rise to your ears.
“Since you’ll be working so close to me, I’m sure you’ll be happy to come here more often.”
“Thanks.” You awkwardly laughed. You blamed your bad response on the fact that you still weren’t familiar with the language, not your blatant awkwardness.
Manager Chen made her way over to her desk, picking up a small stack of papers. “These are some letters I’ve received from several designer companies in China. Since we are still in the very preliminary stages of this project, we would like to keep our options open for the stylists here.” She picks an annotated letter from the pile. “I’ve translated and created a summary of the main points of this letter. There are a few more left which I believe I can trust you with. Just do as I did with this letter and add the sample pictures along with it.”
You quickly complied, taking the stack of papers from her hands.
“I’ll show you to your new work space.” She led you out of your office and over to a cubicle that wasn’t too far away. It was considerably smaller compared to Manager Chen’s office, but you thought it had a certain coziness to it. Plus, working close to your coworkers could also boost your motivation. “Here is your desk, it’s not the most exciting thing, but you may bring photos or whatnot to decorate it. Now, I’ll let you settle in and get started on your work. You can meet me at my office around six, I can double check your work before we leave.”
You thanked her before she left and immediately got started on your work. You diligently translated the whole of the letters before picking out the main points that matched with Manager Chen’s example. After this was done, you included the photos that came with each letter and slipped them into their own cozy folder. This work was monotonous, sure, but it was something you needed on your hectic first day here.
You were so captivated by your work that you completely forgot about the time. The sun was starting to set, and you only remembered to look at the time after you tucked your last letter neatly in its folder. You briefly panicked, praying that you weren’t making your manager wait. Thankfully, it was only a quarter until six. You took the next fifteen minutes double checking your work, making sure to also check the time every once in a while. At exactly six, you left your desk and scurried over to the big doors of Manager Chen’s office.
Knocking a couple times, you waited patiently to be let in.
“Come in.”
You let yourself in, handing the papers to your manager, then sat quietly in one of the chairs before her desk, crossing your fingers together. You fiddled with your thumbs, patiently waiting for Manager Chen to speak up.
“Not bad, this is some decent work.” Manager Chen announced as soon as she finished glossing over your work. “I’ve noted some places that you can either fix or improve. I’ll scan them and hand you a copy tomorrow.”
You let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding. A tidal wave of relief washed over you as you let yourself relax further into your chain. Not bad, this is some decent work. You proudly repeated this moment in your brain. Although you were disappointed with the mistakes that you let slip through, to get somewhat of a compliment on your first day meant a lot to you.
“Shall we get going now?” Manager Chen asked.
You grabbed your bag and stood up. “I’ll let you lead the way.”
_______
It seemed like all you were doing on your first day was following Manager Chen around like a lost puppy. The situation right now was no exception either, as you tried to copy her confident strides over to the restaurant a block down. You watched the busy rush hour streets and sidewalks fill with people, some people going home after a long day, some people going to party just like you.
Soon, after a few more minutes of walking, the both of you arrived at the small wooden doors of the restaurants. It seemed like the both of you were a bit late as Manager Kim was already waiting in front of the entrance with the rest of the team. Bang Chan was also there, head down looking at his phone.
“Sorry we’re late, have you been waiting for long?” Manager Chen somehow sounded confident despite making everybody wait on her.
Her voice seemed to have caught everybody’s attention. You watched as Bang Chan swiftly turned his head up from his phone, his eyes making contact with yours. You immediately focused your eyes somewhere else, trying to casually play off the fact that your eyes subconsciously drifted to him.
“We’ve only been waiting for a couple minutes.” Manager Kim gave a tight smile. “Let’s go in before you all get too cold.”
Your little group of around ten people slowly entered the doors, filling the restaurant. Manager Kim called over a waitress, signaling that you had ten people in your group, and let the waitress lead you all to a long wooden table.
The restaurant was nice, nothing too fancy, but that’s how you could tell the food was good. With dim lighting and tightly packed tables, it made you feel fuzzy and warm on the inside.
However, your thoughts on the restaurant were soon broken by a hand on your shoulder.
“Y/n, why don’t you sit with me?” Manager Kim’s lips curled up, “After all, this is a work gathering, how good of a boss would I be if I didn’t even treat my newest team member to a drink?”
Your brain was in shambles. You seriously didn’t feel comfortable sitting with him all night. However, the logical side of your brain was saying something different. He’s just being nice as a boss. You don’t know how people in this country act anyways, stop being paranoid.
It seemed like your inner turmoil was taking longer than necessary, as you heard another familiar voice speak up.
“Manager Kim-” Bang Chan called out.
“You don’t need to sit with me here, Bang Chan.” Manager Kim chuckled as he stared directly in Bang Chan’s eyes. “I’d rather not talk about work outside the office.”
You watched as Bang Chan’s eyebrows furrowed, looking back to you in reluctance. You smiled at him before turning your attention to Manager Kim. It was just one night, right? Plus, there’s no harm in establishing a good impression with your boss.
“I’ll sit with you, Manager Kim.” You smiled, “thanks for offering.”
And so, you took your seat next to Manager Kim at the table. Bang Chan, who was to your left, looked askance at Manager Kim for a brief second before his facial expression did a complete 180. His familiar, boy-ish smile was plastered on his face like it was the most natural thing.
When the menus came, everybody at the table — including you — started to order onslaughts of food and alcohol. After brief moments of casual chatter about topics such as the weather or how good the food was here, everything that was ordered arrived at your table.
You grabbed a can of beer and started sipping on it. You’ve drank before — of course — with your old friends at university, but it’s been at least a year since you last did. Better ease myself in. You thought.
However, your preconceived plans were ruined when a small glass of clear liquor got pushed in front of you.
“Y/n, surely you aren’t going to sip on that can all night.” The ends of Manager Kim’s lips curled up.
“Wasn’t planning to, sir.” You replied while tipping the glass up and into your mouth. The bitter liquid burned your throat as it went down. You took a moment to recollect your surroundings. Seems like your tolerance was higher than you thought.
“Bang Chan, do you not drink? Why not eat something then?” Manager Chen pointed to the food on the table.
“No can do ma’am, I’m on a strict diet. My manager would kill me.” Bang Chan pointed to his glass of water.
“In that case,” Manager Chen filled another glass, “Y/n, have another drink.” She slid the glass down the table in front of you.
You gladly accepted your second drink, downing the alcohol in one go. Your eyes instinctively squeezed together as you felt your throat burn. From the tips of your ears to the ends of your toes, your whole body felt warm and alive.
You lost track of the time. As your conversations got livelier, your head got fuzzier. You stopped counting your drinks after four, especially since so many people were eager to offer the new employee a drink. Although your vision was starting to blur, you could still think straight. I can still think, you thought to yourself, still — what a powerful buzz.
Your thoughts ran rampant in your mind as you stared at the lightbulb across the room. What a pretty light. So bright. Warm.
“Y/n.”
Was the light calling your name?
“Y/n!”
Your eyes focused again and snapped away from the lightbulb. Where was the voice coming from? You slowly turned your head. Bang Chan.
“Hi.” You smiled.
“Hi.” He smiled back. So bright. Warm. “It’s been hours and I haven’t even offered you a drink yet.”
You tried to focus your eyes on his face as he slid the glass over to you. One more drink wouldn’t hurt your buzz, right?
You gladly accepted, slowly moving your hand over to the glass to pick the clear liquid up. It went down in one go just like all the others.
Huh? Was this water?
You struggled to focus your eyes on the person who offered you the drink. “That was yummy.”
“I bet it was,” the talking blur chuckled, “How about another one?”
You nodded, then took the glass he slid towards you. It’s funny how water flows even when in a cup. Water. You needed to pee.
“Hey,” your words dragged out, “where’s uh, where’s the washroom?”
“Follow me. I’ll show you.” Manager Kim stood up and reached his hand out towards you. You didn’t want to take it, but it seemed like nobody was noticing his offer.
Reluctantly, you took his hand and stood up, only to stumble down again. Did your knees not want to listen?
“Whoa there, better hold on.” Manager Kim said.
“No, I can walk. I-I can walk.” You let go of Manager Kim and tried to focus all your brainpower on moving your feet in a straight line. This tactic only worked for a second, however, as your knees gave in and you stumbled down.
“It’s obvious that you can’t.” Manager Kim’s lips turned up. “It’s time for you to go home. I’ll take you back.”
What? No. You didn’t want Manager Kim to take you home, not after all the awkward events of today and the general vibe from him. You tried to express your thoughts, but nothing came out of your mouth.
“Manager Kim, you’ve been drinking!” Bang Chan’s voice came from some part of the room. “It’s not safe to drive, I’ll call a taxi for you.”
“What about Y/n here? I’ll get a taxi for us both.” Manager Kim said.
“I called my manager earlier to pick me up, we can drop her off along the way. It’s not a good idea to put two drunk people in a car. I’m completely sober right now, so let me do all the work.” Bang Chan grinned, patting Manager Kim on his shoulder.
“Is that what you want, Y/n?” Manager Kim glared.
You dizzily nodded.
“Alright. In that case, I can call my own taxi later.” Manager Kim grimaced.
“Stay safe, Manager Kim.” Bang Chan smiled. He turned to you. “My manager’s been waiting outside for a while now, do you want to leave now?”
You nodded. You tried to start walking again, but your damn knees just wouldn’t listen.
“Do you want to hold on to me?” Bang Chan knitted his brows together and held out an arm.
“I,” you slurred, “can walk.” You tried to start your feet again, only to end up stumbling down.
“I know you can,” Bang Chan said as he reached his hands out to stabilize you, “but — ah — I’m really tired after today. Can you hold on to my arm so I won’t fall out of exhaustion?”
You agreed to help him. Bang Chan waved to everybody still at the table before leading the two of you out to a black SUV. He allowed you to stumble your way in the back seats first before sliding in himself. He asked you for your address, which took many tries for you to accurately type it into his phone.
You leaned your head against the window, staring at passing blurred lights as Bang Chan’s manager started driving. Just being away from the loud and bright environment seemed to have cleared your head a little, but the pounding would not stop. You cursed yourself for being so irresponsible on your first day, especially because you were still alone in this new country.
“Hey,” you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder, “want some water?” You looked over to see Bang Chan holding out a plastic bottle with the lid screwed off.
You languidly reached your hand out for the bottle and gulped down as much water as you could in one breath before handing it back to him. The street lights started getting blurrier as you tried to fight exhaustion, the muscles in your eyelids starting to get more and more uncontrollable.
“Y/n.”
“Hmm?”
“Don’t fall asleep yet, we’re almost there. Ten more minutes.”
You couldn’t hear anything after that, however, as you felt your eyes give up on you and your body fall into a deep sleep.
“Y/n… Y/n.” A familiar voice called.
You fluttered your eyes open, your head pounding. Not knowing where you were, you surveyed your surroundings in a panic. It seemed as though you were in the back of a car… Parked outside of your apartment building?
“Hey, you’re finally awake.” Bang Chan’s voice entered your ear. It all came rushing back to you; the restaurant, the drinking, entering the SUV.
“How long have we been parked here?” Your groggy voice sounded inhuman. You had to clear your throat a couple times.
“It’s only been twenty or so minutes. I’m not allowed to leave the car, are you able to get home alone? I can ask my manager to go with you.” Bang Chan scratched the back of his neck.
“I should be fine.” You mumbled, a bit embarrassed to have fallen asleep in the car of a person you just met that day. This wasn’t even his car, it was his manager’s.
“Hey… can I put my number in your phone?” Bang Chan avoided your eyes. “Just so you can tell me when you get home.” He quickly added.
“Okay.” You awkwardly handed him your phone with your contacts already opened. He quickly typed his phone number in before handing it back to you.
“Text me when you get home. Remember to lock your door, okay?”
You thank both him and his manager before hurrying back to your apartment. Your head was still pounding unrelentlessly as you pressed the elevator button for your floor. The events of today were still unprocessed in your brain. You met a potential friend, which was a highlight. However, you also met two higher up managers and an actual idol, only to get hilariously drunk in the presence of. At least it’ll make a good story to tell my mom. You thought.
In no time, you made it in your apartment and locked the door behind you, remembering what Bang Chan told you in the car. You texted the new number in your phone.
Y/n: Hi. It’s y/n. I just entered my apartment.
Not even a minute later, your phone lit up, signaling a new text message.
Bang Chan: great!! remember to lock the doooor hahaha ( ◕ω◕✿ )
You subconsciously grin at your phone. Cute. Throwing your phone haphazardly on your bed, you begrudgingly began your night routine. After washing up and throwing on a random shirt from your closet, you fell on your bed ready to sleep. You were about to close your eyes when your phone lit up again with a ding. It was another text.
Bang Chan: Hey… Just so you know, if you ever feel unsafe around the office just tell me okay? I’ll always try to help you in whatever way I can.
#stray kids#stray kids scenarios#stray kids imagines#stray kids x reader#stray kids smut#stray kids fluff#stray kids angst#stray kids fanfic#skz scenarios#skz imagines#bang chan#bang chan scenarios#bang chan imagines#bang chan fluff#bang chan angst#bang chan smut
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Payback
Hey everyone! I’ve been writing this new story for the past couple of days, and am planning to take a break for a while after this. My husband and I are expecting our first child next week and will be focusing on her. For that reason, I decided to give the class some sugar, as we all need some goodness in the world. I’ll be back when things settle down, but until then, Warm-Fuzzies and please enjoy!
It was just an average conversation. Alya was sitting at her desk before class with Lila since Marinette was late again. It was very pleasant until the italian girl said something… wrong.
“After I saved Jagged’s kitten from being run over by the plane and he wrote that song about me, we kept in touch.” Lila tittered away, without a care. “He ended up mentioning how he wanted a pair of special glasses for his tour, so I made him those Eiffel Tower glasses that he loves so much. Next thing I know, he’s bragging about me to all his friends and they’re all asking me to make things for them too. I ended up making a website and going by the alias MDC. Isn’t that amazing?”
Alya hadn’t had a chance to answer as Marinette came rushing into the room a second before the bell rang and Mme. Bustier began her lesson. Although whatever the teacher was saying was practically ignored by the majority of the class that had heard Lila’s claim.
Because they knew.
They had been there when Marinette had made those glasses for Jagged Stone for the work experience day at Chloe’s family hotel. They knew that Marinette went by the acronym MDC for the initials of her name. Max, Rose, Juleka, Mylene, Kim, and Alya had all helped Marinette set up her website and model her designs a couple months ago, while Lila had been traveling…
She’s a LIAR!! They all thought at once.
During the next break, Alya quickly set up a group chat with everyone but Lila and Marinette.
FoxyJournalist: You all heard that, right? She’s lying about being MDC, but that’s Marinette!
DJTurtle: So not cool, doesn’t she know that we were there? Is this some kind of joke?
MightIllustrator: Don’t think so, she’s still bragging about it back here.
GothicBeauty: @DJTurtle Agreed, not cool.
Rocker’n’Pink: I can’t believe it! I just emailed Prince Ali to see if he knows her, because if Lila’s lying about this…
BigTeddy: …
SmolTeddy: …
TrueBrain: …
Da’Strongest: … Crap
Sk8Grl: … I second that Crap
FoxyJournalist: Emergency meeting at my place tonight! We need to figure all this out!
DJTurtle: Agreed.
TruQueen: We’ll be there too. I don’t like Dupain-Cheng, but I HATE Rossi.
MissRed: I’ll bring snacks.
By the time class started again, everyone had agreed to meet up after school. The hard part, as it turned out, was shaking the liar, who practically latched onto their group and wouldn’t let them be. It was Mylene you finally came up with an idea, mentioning that they were going to the homeless shelter to help feed people and clean the facility. Lila suddenly remembered that she already had plans and couldn’t come help them, before turning to walk home.
Once she was out of earshot, Alix turned to the other girl with a smirk. “Good going, how’d you know that’d work?”
Mylene shrugged. “I was thinking earlier about all the times she talked about charity work but always made excuses to not come with us when we were doing it. I figured she’d do it this time too, and I was right.”
An hour later the entire class; sans Marinette, Lila, and Adrien, who was at a photoshoot, were gathered in the Cesaire apartment. Everyone had their phones or tablets out, looking up everything that Lila had told them since coming to school. And what they found was anything but comforting.
Connection to Jagged Stone due to saving a kitten: lies, according to articles about his one and only pet for the past 17 years, Fang the crocodile.
Connection to Prince Ali via Go-Green charities: lies, according to Prince Ali himself when he responded to Rose’s email, plus he didn’t do green charities, instead focusing on children’s charities.
Secretly dating Adrien: lies, confirmed when Adrien called Nino back during a break and let it slip that Lila was only his friend and that she made him uncomfortable at times because of how clingy she was.
Every single thing they looked up about Lila turned out to be a lie. And although they couldn’t prove it themselves, that likely meant that all of the diseases and injuries that she’d claimed to have were probably fake too. Meaning that they had been buying her lunch and giving her money for charities, and the money was probably going straight into the liar’s pocket.
“By my calculations, when including all the lunches and food we bought for her, money we donated for charities she wasn’t involved in, and tickets for events she attended with us; Lila Rossi has scammed close to €1,000 from our class. All of which we are not likely to get back from her.” Max groused as he typed away on his tablet.
Alix scoffed. “At least all we lost was some money and a bit of our dignity. I’m pretty sure Marinette went through a lot more than us. Heck, that liar tried to convince me last week that Marinette ruined her homework and said ‘if only she understood what it was like for someone to do that to her’ like she was trying to get me to destroy Marinette’s homework as revenge. I didn’t do it, but I let her copy my homework so she wouldn’t lose any points.”
Juleka’s pale complexion went stark white. “She kept telling me how Marinette was only friends with me so she could get close to Luka and make Adrien jealous, and that I was really trusting to let someone like that near my family.”
“When my headphones broke, she told me that she’d seen Marinette messing with them earlier,” Nino told them, his voice laced with guilt as he remembered giving his oldest friend the cold shoulder for days after that.
Alya’s head dropped into her hands as she struggled to hold back tears. “That liar almost had me convinced that Mari was nothing but a jealous bitch who was out to get rid of her since they both had a crush on Adrien. I can’t believe how close I came to buying that bull.”
“And then there’s the expulsion,” Rose added, her voice quivering. “She was accused of stealing, assault, and cheating on that mock exam. Even though Marinette was reinstated, that kind of stuff doesn’t just disappear from someone’s record. What if that keeps her from being accepted into lycee?”
Everyone went pale at that. Although most turned red in the face a moment later from rage for their friend.
“We can’t let her get away with this!” Kim growled as he began pacing the room.
“But is there anything we can really do?” Mylene asked with tears in her eyes.
When the blonde heiress chuckled, sitting off to the side of the room, everyone turned to glare at her, but she wasn’t phased by their looks. “And this is exactly why I decided to come here. None of you have any idea how to deal with someone like Rossi. I, however, have dealt with those types of people multiple times.” The glares ceased, realizing that Chloe was probably right.
“One of the best ways to get back at her, would be to use her own lies against her. Do it in a way that the only way out of it is to admit that she’s a liar. And while we do that, we completely tear down the empire that fake HBIC is trying to build, maybe get her expelled like she tried to do to Dupain-Cheng.”
The class stared at her in surprise, not expecting the former hero to actually be useful in this situation. But what she said…
Alya shook her head in surprise. “I never thought I’d say this, but it sounds like you’re the best option. Please, tell us your plan.”
The smirk Chloe gave them, almost made them feel sorry for what was about to happen to the liar.
~oOo~
The following morning when Lila came to class, she saw everyone fawning over something on their phones or tablets. Curious, she stepped next to Alya and looked over her shoulder to find that she was looking at the MDC website.
She smirked for a second before plastering an appreciative, yet shy grin on her face. “I see you found my website, what do you think of my designs?”
“Gurl, they are gorgeous! I can’t believe you made such intricate clothes and accessories!” Alya gushed as she continued looking through the pictures until she stopped on a design that she had modeled for Marinette, although, like all the other photos, her face wasn’t shown. “And this one here! It’s like a total dedication to Rena Rouge. Make no mistake, Ladybug will always be my favorite, but Rena’s power is really awesome too.”
“I’m glad you like it!” Lila smiled, she was about to go into describing how she was inspired by the design when Alya asked her something surprising.
“Do you think I can have it? Pretty please?”
Lila came up short, not having expected this. “Well, you can just order it from my website-” she began saying, only to stop when Alya’s expression dropped.
“I don’t understand. You always say that if we need anything to just ask you, and you have this dress listed as in stock on your website, it would be nothing for you to just give it to me, right?”
“I-um-”
“And you even told Marinette the other day that if she were a real friend, she wouldn’t mind giving us free pastries whenever we ask, right?”
“R-right! I’m just surprised that you would be so interested in one of my designs. I’ll bring it in tomorrow!”
“Thanks gurl, you're the best.” Alya gushed before giving Lila a hug that actually kind of hurt.
Hurrying back to her seat, Lila resisted the urge to curse as she got onto the MDC website to order and overnight the dress to her apartment. Luckily, the mail normally arrived before she left for school. And doing this would help her convince everyone she was the designer MDC.
~oOo~
Lila’s newest lie about being MDC wasn’t going as planned. Sure, she got a lot of praise and people wearing her designs, but it was costing her. Every time she brought in an item that she’d had to buy and overnight to her apartment to give to one of her classmates, another would practically demand another item that was listed as available on the MDC website. A hat for Alix, a hoodie for Kim, a shirt for Max, a dress for Rose, it went on and on. And when she tried to say that she couldn’t, they would say how Marinette would never do such a thing and then start to question what she told them. This left her no choice but to buy everything they wanted herself and give to them.
Sure, it made her lie all the more believable since she was able to deliver the items they asked for, but it was beginning to clear out her savings. At the rate she was going, she was probably MDC’s best customer.
Then came the day when the MDC website began offering custom orders. Alya asked Marinette for a couple sheets of paper from her sketchbook and a pencil before handing it to Lila. “Gurl, I’ve been wanting you to do something custom for me for weeks, but I wasn’t going to ask since you didn’t have it listed on your website and I didn’t want to take advantage of you. But now, I can tell you exactly what I want and I can even record your process for my blog! Isn’t that awesome?”
Lila gripped the pencil until it nearly snapped. She could barely draw stick figures and she was pretty sure Maribrat knew that, not missing the smirk that the goody-two-shoes was sending her direction. “I would but, oww! My arthritis has been acting up all day and I can barely hold a pencil.” She whimpered pathetically as gingerly gripped her left wrist.
“But that shouldn’t be a problem,” Max spoke up smiling kindly at her. “After all, it’s your left wrist that has arthritis and you’re right handed.”
Shut up, you stupid nerd! She thought, struggling to keep the scowl from her face. “You’re right, but I’m not sure if I’ll have enough time to draw something out before class starts.”
“But, Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale have commented on your website how you are really good at doing fast concept drawing for your designs. So, it shouldn’t take you too long to come up with something to start with.” Rose commented, her high voice grating on the liar’s nerves.
She was trying to think of another excuse when Chloe began laughing. “You can all stop the act, I think we’ve played it out long enough.”
To Lila’s surprise, the majority of the class nodded before their eager, friendly faces turned to scowls and angry glares as they looked in her direction. Unsure of what else to do, she started faking tears as she looked around the room. “Why are all of you looking at me like that? I haven’t done anything wrong. Did Marinette say something? You know-”
“Cut the crap, Lila! We did our research weeks ago and figured out you’re nothing but a lying bag of nothing.” Chloe cut her off as she stood from her desk and smiled cruelly at the girl. “You really messed up when you started claiming you were the MDC, the rising star of fashion. Everyone in class knows that’s Marinette.”
Unable to help herself, Lila’s head whipped around in shock to glare at the french-asian girl, sitting shocked, but a little smug at her desk. “Is that what Marinette said? She’s lying!”
Alya scoffed this time. “You know, there may have been a point when we might have believed you, but not this time. We were all there when Mari gave those glasses to Jagged Stone and then had her design his album cover. Max and I helped her set up the MDC website. And Rose, Juleka, Mylene, Kim, Max, and I were the ones that modeled the designs posted on her website.”
Lila glared at her. She knew when the jig was up, and there was no point in wasting her energy on her worthless classmates anymore. Still, she couldn’t help but be angry at them. “Well, you all better have the money to pay me back for all the stuff I bought you! Or else I’ll get all of you in trouble with Mme. Bustier and M. Damocles. If you can’t tell, from the time I got Maribrat expelled, I’ve got them both wrapped around my finger.”
“Actually, you can consider all this repaying us.” Max grinned that annoying, calculating grin at her. “Everything you bought was equal to or of similar value to all the lunches we bought you, tickets for events that we covered, or money we donated to your supposed charities, which I’m 96.8% sure was actually your own bank account.”
She growled at that, about to let out a tirade at all of them when Chloe laughed again, gaining her attention again. “Well, all that was to pay back the class, but you’re still not even with Dupain-Cheng or me. I’m sick of seeing your ugly face and hair-don’t in here every day and decided to do something about it. So, I had Daddy get a hold of the Italian Embassy for a meeting the other day. Imagine how surprised and angry they were when the ambassador’s assistant started talking about how incopitant Ladybug and Chat Noir are, since they couldn’t defeat the akuma that had forced her daughter’s school to close for months.”
Lila’s tan skin paled quickly as her head whipped around the room, looking for an escape, but Ivan and Kim were guarding the door.
“The woman was even more surprised after mentioning which school it was and Daddy told her how it was my school. Then I mentioned a girl that had been out of school for the time the assistant had mentioned, and that she claimed to be in the kingdom of Achu via Embassy funds. The Ambassador wasn’t too happy about what he was hearing and cut the meeting short. Although I did hear her mention that she was planning to speak with the principal and her daughter’s teacher. Speaking of, I wonder why Mme. Bustier is so late for class?
Seconds later, the door Ivan and Kim had been guarding burst open, revealing a very angry Damocles, Mme. Bustier, and a woman that had a strong resemblance to Lila. Without a single word, the woman stomped forward, grabbed Lila by the arm, and began dragging her out of the room. Lila tried to pull free as she pleaded for her mother to listen, but the woman didn’t say a single word as the door closed behind them, leaving a very upset Mme. Bustier standing at the front of the room.
The news quickly spread around school before lunch how Lila had done, and was likely to be expelled for truancy, bullying, lying to the staff, and trying to get Marinette expelled. If that hadn’t been bad enough, an akuma had come fluttering into the courtyard just as the two Rossi’s had been leaving. Lila had pushed her mother away in an effort to catch the akuma, only for a yo-yo to smack her hand to catch it, snapping two of the liar’s fingers in the process.
Seeing that, M. Damocles had no choice but to call the police while Ladybug and Chat Noir stood guard over Lila, with Alya recording everything from the moment she’d seen the akuma entering the courtyard. Lila screamed and raged as the police handcuffed her and took her away. Ladybug recommended using a facility outside of Paris, as they had witnessed her willingly going after an akuma.
The class never saw Lila again, although they did hear that she had been deported back to Italy and was dropped in a high security prison’s deepest, darkest hole to be forgotten by the world after being convicted for aiding a terrorist. Granted, none of them had expected that when they had set out to get even with Lila, but after seeing her willingly go after an akuma for revenge, they were glad she was gone.
The class had also profusely apologized to Marinette for not believing her, as well as keeping her in the dark about their plan to expose Lila. Marinette accepted their apology, but admitted that she had been starting to figure it out after Lila kept ordering from her website and her classmates ended up with the ordered items. Then, when she had mentioned her theory to Adrien, he’d shown her the group chat and admitted that the class had planned a way to confront and expose Lila. So, she decided to trust her friends and let their plan play out, using the money Lila had spent to buy more supplies and make matching ‘thank you’ gifts for her friends.
And that’s it! I hope you all enjoyed this bit of class sugar. With all the salt out there, I really needed something sweet and this seemed like a good way to do it!
Taglist:
@2confused-2doanything @7-sage-7 @aadnrsstar @abrx2002 @awkwardromances @bayball @babylovebug18 @botanicalfoxx @back-cats-and-broken-mirrors @caffeinetheory @cheshire5210 @chocolateherringtacofan @city-of-all-tunas @classycollectorreviewworld @corabeth11 @chocolatechipcookiesandcamembert @darkened-flame @delightfulcookiesrecipespizza @fandom-trapped-03 @ghostmaster @iamblinkmarvelarmy @interobanginyourmom @izang @jesussavedevenme @kazedancer @kitten12113 @lady-phoenix-of-tardis @lilypotter2018 @lunataravler @maskedpainter @ miraculouslydumb @nerd-nowandforever @ola-is-dead @pandacatxd @plushbookworm @plz-excuse-my-inner-ravenclaw @pheonix-biach @raiderofthelostbooks @ramos123 @rowanrouge @rowanyx @ren121 @seesea22 @seraphichana @sashakoi @shypeacekitten @tazer6787 @that-girl-sakea @thecrazyfantrollshasmoved @the-smallest-kittenz @tishwinchesterannabethjackson @t1dwarrior-of-earth @ulmban @with-forward-motion @wonderbat91939 @zoiechance
#lila lies#lila salt#lila gets exposed#class redemption#chloe redemption#alya redemption#marinette dupain cheng
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Red Was My Favourite Colour (J.JK)
Warnings : talk of abuse, talk of cheating
Synopsis : after an abusive relationship, y/n is able to find love again.
Word Count : 1431
Author’s Note : I am reinventing this tumblr page. I understand a lot of those who follow me followed me for the people I posted in the past, but they just don’t interest me anymore. I still want to write imagines, and have written tons in the time I was away. But they all have to do with the kpop band BTS. So if you like BTS, I hope you enjoy. I will keep all my other imagines up, but I will be posting primarily BTS from here on out and will be creating a new Masterlist. Thank you!
The first red flag came after one month of dating when I told him I was going home for a week. I posted pictures of my brothers, and he called me incessantly until I answered. I knew everyone could hear his yelling on the other end, but no one said a thing as I calmly explained everything and reassured him that I was his. He told me he loved me then.
The second red flag came on our 100th day when he was late to the reservations he had made smelling heavily of perfume that wasn’t mine. But he bought me a pretty diamond necklace, telling me that the diamond of his life deserves diamonds of all kinds.
The third red flag came when I introduced him to my best friend, Park Jimin, and he immediately asked how many times we hooked up in the past. We explained our relationship isn’t like that. We’ve been best friends since diaper days and were practically siblings. He explained his ex had left him for her best friend, and I reassured him I only loved him.
The fourth red flag came on our 6-month anniversary when he suddenly had a work conference out of town. I had a sinking suspicion that he was lying to me, and that was confirmed when his boss called me, asking me to remind my boyfriend about the early meeting the next morning. I told him I thought they were at a work conference for the weekend, his boss said there was no such thing and he said he was taking me on a trip for our anniversary. He came home with a bunch of gifts for me, apologizing for missing our 6-month anniversary.
The fifth red flag came with a harsh slap across my face when I spoke back to him. He held me softly afterwards, tears in his eyes as he promised me he would never hurt me again. I wiped away his tears and forgave him, keeping this a secret from my best friend.
The sixth red flag came with purple bruises littering my body. Jimin asked where they came from and I always shrugged it off, blaming my clumsiness. I promised my boyfriend I wouldn’t make him angry again. It was my fault anyways.
The final red flag came when I opened my eyes in the hospital, my eyes meeting those of a police officer, asking for my story. I wanted to protect him, but Jimin had caught him red handed with the gun aimed right at me. I spilled all the red flags I noticed throughout the year we were together. Jimin cried as he listened to everything I said, asking me why I didn’t speak up sooner.
“Because red is my favourite colour.” I whispered in response.
My first month of healing was spent scared to leave the apartment I now shared with Jimin. I met his two other best friends, Jeon Jungkook and Kim Taehyung. I was shy at first, but they made me feel comfortable.
My second month of healing was spent taking small steps to become independent again. Jimin wasn’t going to be around forever to take care of me, no matter how much he disagrees with that statement. Jungkook and Taehyung came around more often, and I welcomed them fully in my life.
My third month of healing was spent exploring the world I was hidden from during my relationship. I spent a lot of time filming my surroundings with Jungkook. He would send me videos he took of our adventures, and I noticed he tended to film me rather than the scenery. You are the scenery. He told me once. Butterflies flew around my tummy.
My fourth month of healing was spent laughing openly and truly with my new friends. The four of us spent a lot of time together, exploring the city and getting lost in neighbourhoods we were unfamiliar with. Jungkook and I got split up from Taehyung and Jimin, so Jungkook held my hand saying he didn’t want to lose me too. I laced our fingers together as I looked up at him with a smile.
My fifth month of healing was spent sneaking around with Jungkook on dates. We didn’t want to make Jimin, or Taehyung feel weird with our blossoming relationship, so we hid it. He kissed me for the first time in the moonlight outside my apartment building. He asked me to be his girlfriend and I said yes. I felt content.
Our first month together was spent with more secret dates and kisses when no one was looking. Jimin had caught us eventually, saying we weren’t subtle in any way. He congratulated us, and warned Jungkook that if he ever hurt me, it was on sight. I laughed at the thought. Jungkook could easily take Jimin, but he wasn’t like that. I felt safe.
Our second month together, he invited me along to meet a couple of his other friends, Jung Hoseok and Kim Seokjin. He promised they were good people and there would be nothing to worry about. I could see the hopefulness in his eyes and agreed. I felt comfortable immediately and quickly opened my world up to them.
Our third month together, we spent a lot of time with all of our friends going for more adventures like old times. He never let go of my hand, not bothering with an excuse this time, not that he needed one. I would hold his hand until the end of time.
On our 100th day, he took me for a picnic and gifted me a cute necklace with his initials and a heart. He whispered I love you in my ear as he put it on me. I kissed him and told him I loved him too. It felt right.
By our 6th month, I found a job and felt comfortable being left alone again. Jungkook would always come for my lunch break though, saying he was used to seeing me all the time. I introduced him to two of my coworkers who were quickly becoming my work friends, Kim Namjoon and Min Yoongi. He smiled and thanked them for making me feel comfortable. There was no need to be jealous because he knew I loved him.
By our first anniversary, all of our friends had met and the 8 of us spent a lot of time together at someone’s place. We did karaoke a lot that resulted in a lot of drunken nights. I wasn’t once scared of Jungkook when he was drunk because he never put his hands on me.
On our anniversary, he took me to a fancy restaurant. We updated each other on the things we’ve missed and laughed at some dumb things our friends did. By dessert, he slid an envelope across the table. I pulled out a letter and a key. Without even reading the letter, I knew he was asking me to move in with him. But it wasn’t until I read the letter that I realized he bought my dream house. It’s time to start our happily ever after. He said softly. There was no other answer besides yes.
Our friends helped us move in. Jimin cried at losing his roommate to another man, and I cried at moving away from my best friend. We held each other for a while, rubbing each other’s backs as we cried. Jungkook smiled at us, a soft look in his eyes.
Our first night living together, I was wrapped up in his arms as he played with my hair, humming softly. I’ve never felt so safe, so in love. He proved to me every single day that the relationship I had before wasn’t love. This right here, what Jungkook and I have, is true love.
Red used to be my favourite colour, but now my favourite colour is the different shades of brown in his eyes. It’s the pink of his lips. It’s whatever colour he’s dyed his hair, the different browns and blues and purples. It’s the soft yellow the pours into our room in the morning and I wake up in his arms. It’s the navy blue of the night sky with the sparkly stars littering the sky as we stand on our balcony, him holding me from behind as he lists all the reasons he loves me.
I used to love the colour red because it was the colour of the flags love once gave me. But now I love every single colour because Jungkook has showed me what love looks like.
#bts#jeon junkook#park jimin#min yoongi#kim taehyung#kim seokjin#kim namjoon#jung hoseok#jungkook imagine#red was my favourite colour#bts imagine#bts au#jungkook x reader
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drivers license - Tom Holland
Pairing: Tom x Singer!Reader
Requested? Nah
3,561 words
I was going to write this when the song came out, but as you observed, i wasn't writing bc i wasn't happy anymore. but here it is. enjoy.
Tom || Main || Taglist
* * * *
“I want you to meet my friend. She’s super nice and stuff. Maybe she could sing the soundtrack of one of my short films!” Harry said happily. “Anyway, she’s an amazing singer and she’s inviting me to the recording studio tomorrow. Want to come?”
Harry looked at Tom and waited for his response. The eldest Holland brother opened his mouth to say something, but Sam entered the room and interrupted. “Y/N’s my friend first, you know. I introduced her to YOU.” Sam rolled his eyes. “Besides, I suggested for her to invite you guys. Thank me later.”
“Thank you.” Harry mocked. “So, will you come with me-”
“Us.” Sam corrected. “Will you come with US tomorrow?”
“Yeah, I’ll come so both of you can shut up.” Tom laughed before scrolling through his phone again.
Tomorrow came and the three Hollands went to the recording studio where you were currently at. When they got there, you were in the booth recording your song which will be on your first EP. You were just starting in the music industry and you were still testing the waters and finding your sound.
The three men sat down on the couch and listened to you. It was safe to say that Tom immediately fell in love with your voice and he made a mental note to compliment your voice for when you’re done recording. After recording two songs, you were finally taking your break. As soon as you stepped out of the recording booth, Sam ran up to you and engulfed you in a tight hug.
“I missed you! You sounded amazing!” Sam said giddily. He was really happy and really proud of you.
“Thank you!” You said gratefully with a huge smile on your face. Sam was your first ever friend and he was your first audience. Needless to say, his opinions matter to you the most. He was more supportive than your family will ever be.
“I can’t believe my Christine will be doing great things on her own now.” Sam pouted. He called you ‘Christine’ and you earned that nickname because of Phantom of the Opera. You were his Christine and he was your Phantom. It was perfect.
“But I’ll always stay the same, Sam.” You said in pure honesty. You looked over his shoulder and saw two of his brothers.
“Hi, Harry!” You waved, recognizing his curly hair despite only meeting him five times. Harry waved back and that left Tom. He stood up and walked towards you and Sam to formally introduce himself.
“Hi, I’m Tom; Sam’s older brother.” He smiled sweetly. He offered his hand for you to shake and you gladly took it and gave it a firm shake.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.” You smiled before letting go of his hand.
“Your voice is just wow! You have a gift.” Tom complimented which made you shy. “Thank you.” You said sheepishly.
Sam cleared his throat, “So, lunch?”
The four of you had lunch at a small chicken wing restaurant. It was cheap, hidden, and there were only five other customers which was great. You talked about so many things and eventually, Tom asked about your friendship with Sam.
“Wait, how did you and Sam meet?” Tom asked, taking a bite of his chicken wing. You took a sip of your drink and swallowed your food before answering.
“I was homeschooled my whole life and when I told my mum that I wanted to enroll in a random course just to know what it feels like to have classmates, she enrolled me in a culinary course. Let’s just say that I’m surprised that I passed!” You and Sam laughed as you thought about the shit both of you did.
“We sat next to each other and we were cooking partners. She was so awkward!” Sam laughed, wiping a tear that escaped from his eye. “But I’m glad she was put in the seat next to me because if not, I wouldn’t have gotten to know her. I honestly wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Same.” You nodded in agreement. “Sam’s my best friend in the whole world and I honestly wouldn’t know what to do without him. He’s my rock.”
Sam turned his head to look at you and smiled, “Same.”
“Ugh, just date already!” Harry said with his mouth full. He even rolled his eyes in the process.
“Ugh, just swallow already!” Sam mocked.
“That’s what she said.” You giggled. The table erupted with laughter and you were happy that you got to meet new people, thanks to Sam.
“I meant his food!” Sam breathed.
“It sounded wrong, though.” Tom chuckled.
“Very.” Harry said with a playful look on his face.
After lunch, Sam told you that they had to go home already. You were visibly upset because you haven’t seen your best friend in such a long time and you had so much fun with his brothers. It’s true what they say; time flies by when you’re having fun.
“I’ll call you tonight.” You told Sam. He nodded and said, “I shall wait for your call, then.” You hugged him and hugged Harry right after.
“It was nice seeing you again, Y/N!” Harry exclaimed before pulling away from the hug. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”
“Okay.” You nodded, already excited for your next meeting. You turned to hug Tom and not only did he hug you, but he also kissed your cheek which surprised you, Sam and Harry.
“I’d love to hang out with you again.” Tom said after hugging you. “But without these two divs.” He added earning a slap on the arm from each boy.
You quickly glanced at Sam and he just nodded for you to go. With that go signal, you turned to Tom and said, “Okay! I’ll give you my number and just text me later.”
Tom ended up texting you that night and he asked you out on a date. One date turned into two and two dates turned into three until both of you went on so many dates now. Despite the four year age gap, you two seemed to click. You didn’t have a label yet, though.
It all changed one night.
It was midnight and Tom decided that it’ll be fun to go on a spontaneous road trip. He picked you up and now you were on the road going God knows where. It was random, but it was really fun. Your parents were out of town, so you were confident in going with Tom on his road trip.
Both of your windows were down and you put your hand out to feel the wind. It was a great feeling. Tom was looking at you from time to time and he was smiling to himself. He stopped at a red light and you brought your hand back in again despite the fact that there were no cars around.
“I have a question.” Tom said, breaking the silence.
“Yeah?”
“Will you be my girlfriend?” He asked before driving again as the light turned green. You were surprised with his question and even more so when he started driving again.
Tom looked at you and saw your shocked face before turning to look at the road again. “I mean, you don’t have to answer now. Like, take your time. I just asked because I really li-”
“Yes.” You finally answered after being silent. He stepped on the brakes in shock and said, “What?”
“Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend.” You grinned. He chuckled and shook his head in disbelief, “Wow. The most amazing girl in the world is finally my girlfriend. It’s a great day already.”
That day was the start of a new chapter for both of you. Sam and Harry knew it would happen eventually. Harry was really happy, but Sam felt as though he was in between something; he was torn in between something. Little did he know, his hunch was right and he’ll soon find out why.
Tom was a great boyfriend. He made sure to think about your feelings before doing or saying anything, he made sure to include you on things because he knew you didn’t want to feel left out, he made sure to give you space when you would write songs, he picks you up all the time because you don’t know how to drive yet, but he didn’t mind; he loved it. Tom always told you that he loved you, he would send you memes that he knew would make your day, he tells you cheesy pick up lines and he would tell you jokes that catered to your humor which you greatly appreciated. In your eyes, he was perfect; he was your home.
For you, Tom was the one. He was the one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with and he told you the same thing. He said that when the time was right, he would propose and both of you would get married and he would give you the family you always wanted because your family didn’t really care about you and he hated that. You deserved the world and he promised you that both of you would have a family that’s so much different than yours.
Speaking of family, the Hollands loved you. They became your family. You and Nikki would have tea together and just gossip about things. You and Dom would joke around and Paddy would always challenge you in football. Harry just loved your presence and it came to a point where you would be his model whenever he wanted to take pictures. Tom would always whine and ask why Harry never asked him and Harry would say, “You’re the least interesting to look at.”
“Excuse me, what?!” Tom replied, pretending to be hurt. He knew Harry was just joking and quoting Kim Kardashian. “I’m the most handsome guy here.”
“Okay, Shrek.” Harry shrugged and continued taking your pictures.
Regardless of the sinking feeling that he felt, Sam was still happy that you found happiness in dating his brother. He did give you a go signal, after all.
Of course, all good things come to an end. In this case, your end came after dating for two years.
Tom was away filming for yet another movie and something in your gut told you that something was extremely wrong. You weren’t the jealous type, but every time you would FaceTime Tom, everything was off. The vibe was different and you didn’t like it.
The bad feelings you have solidified when it was revealed that Tom was starring in a film with a blonde girl who was the same age as him and she was gorgeous. You always felt that Tom might leave you for her and when you told Tom that, he assured you that nothing was going on and that you were crazy for even thinking about it.
It got to a point where both of you would always argue because of it. It got to a point where both of you avoided each other for a few days until Tom got back. He was outside your house and he texted for you to come and meet him by his car. You did and you didn’t know what to say. It was your first relationship after all.
Tom looked at you with his hands in his pockets, “I don’t think we should go on anymore.”
“What?” You asked, confused.
“We’re done, Y/N. It’s just not working anymore.” Tom explained. “You don’t trust me and we’re always fighting.”
“Wait, we’re not going to talk about this?” You asked him. He just shook his head. “So you’re willing to throw two years down the drain?”
“It’s just two years, Y/N. Get a grip, it’s not a divorce.” Tom huffed. “I have to go.” With that, he got in his car and drove away, leaving you standing there confused and hurt and feeling different kinds of emotions.
You figured that everything was just a nightmare and that when you wake up the next day, everything’s fine. Of course, you were wrong. When you woke up the next day, Tom blocked your number and on social media and it broke your heart. Then when you went on Twitter, Tom Holland was trending because apparently, he’s dating the blonde girl he told you not to worry about. You were still in denial, but when you called Sam, he just told you not to bother his brother.
“It’s true, isn’t it? He left me for her.” You said with a hoarse voice. Sam was silent on the other line. You could only hear his breathing. “Hello?” You called out.
“Y/N, I have to go.” Sam said softly.
You bitterly chuckled, “I lost him and now, I lost you. This is fun.”
“It’s not like that. I just don’t want to get in the middle of-”
“It’s okay, I get it. He’s your brother. Don’t be sorry or anything. Thanks for the years of friendship, Sam. I’ll forever treasure it. Thank you, truly.” You said before hanging up, not waiting for him to respond. Unbeknownst to you, Sam was extremely hurt for being part of the reason why you’re hurting. He removed the phone from his ear and looked at it. Tom cleared his throat causing Sam to look at him.
“Was that Y/N?” Tom asked. Sam nodded. “What did she say? What did you tell her?” Tom asked again.
“I told her not to bother you and just like that, our friendship is over. So, I hope you’re happy.” Sam frowned as tears clouded his vision.
Tom scoffed, “You don’t need her. You have so many friends. Plus, you have me. Anyway, get dressed. We’re going to the pub.” Tom left Sam’s room. Sam sighed and wiped his tears. He felt terrible.
As for you, in the span of twenty-four hours, you lost your best friend and the man you loved most in the whole world.
You’re currently crying tears of joy because your new song played on the radio and it’s your first time hearing it. Your whole team was really proud of you and they were your new friends and family now. Ever since your break up with Tom, they were there for you. They helped you get back on your feet until you were ready to write another song.
The said song is now playing on the radio and is being streamed by millions.
“Congrats, Y/N!” Your manager, Anya, said. “We’re all so proud of you!”
“Thank you.” You sniffed and wiped your tears.
Your song received good reviews and it’s included in Billboard’s Top 100. Every talk show host wanted you on their show for you to perform your hit single. Everyone wanted to talk to you about the song. Anya made it all happen. You were booked left and right and all the blessings were just coming in. You were extremely happy.
On the other hand, Tom knew the song was about him and it annoyed him because everywhere he went, your song was playing. Even Sam plays it a lot. It was clear that Sam missed you, but he made his bed and he has to lay in it.
“Guess what.” Harry said.
“What?” Tom asked.
“Y/N’s nominated for an award and she’s going to the award show you’re going to.” Harry announced which made Tom groan. “Also, people somehow figured out that the song is about you and now they’re assuming things and they want to know the story, especially your side.” Harry added.
“Easy.” Sam piped up. “Just tell them you left her for another girl and you dated the said girl right after you broke up with Y/N.”
“Shut up, Sam.” Tom hissed. Sam looked at Tom with a blank expression and said, “You don’t have the right to be angry after what you did to her.”
“Why are you defending her now? Why not a few months ago when it was still fresh?” Tom retorted.
“Because I didn’t want to get in the middle of your mess and I still care about her. Unlike you, I can’t just throw years of friendship away.” Sam said before leaving the living room.
“Yikes.” Harry said after Sam left. “Anyway, you have to act like it doesn’t bother you, so it’s not an issue.”
The day of the awards show finally came and you were nervous. It was your first time performing for an extremely huge audience and it made you anxious. The red carpet was all a blur and at one point you saw Sam and both of you made eye contact. You gave him a tight-lipped smile and he did the same. What he did still hurts you, but you wanted to let go of that part of your life now.
When it was your time to perform, your phone buzzed and a notification from a number appeared. You have deleted Sam’s contact number, but you memorized his number in case of emergencies.
“Good luck on your performance, my Christine. I’m proud of you.” He wrote.
You smiled a bit before locking your phone and giving it to your manager. Somehow, it was comforting to know that Sam still had your number and that he was still supporting you despite what happened. You walked on stage and began singing your heart out. The crowd loved it and it made you happy.
“She’s so good!” Sam exclaimed as he clapped for you.
“Please, she sounds like the other artists here. She’s not special.” Tom said as he plastered a fake smile on his face. Harry scoffed and said, “Yeah, right. You fell in love with her voice the first time you met her. Don’t lie.”
Tom never responded to that and kept his mouth shut.
An hour later, the category you were nominated for was up and it made you nervous. You believed you weren’t going to win because the other nominees were well known singers. But for some miracle, you won and the camera panned to Tom to see his reaction.
He wore a fake smile as he clapped. It was awkward. It was even more awkward when you walked past him and Sam stood up to grab your hand to say a quick ‘congrats’ which you thanked him for before walking to the stage to accept your first award ever.
“Wow, I can’t believe this. I want to thank my whole team for being so supportive and patient with me!” You smiled as you accepted the award. “Thank you to the amazing fans for their undying love and support. I wouldn’t have done it without you guys.”
“Lastly, I want to thank the guy who inspired the song.” You said as the camera panned to Tom again. “You know who you are and without you, there would be no songs or albums or EPs. You were the soundtrack of my love life and I’m beginning to accept that you’re not that person anymore. Thank you for everything and I hope that with this song, I can finally let go and start fresh.”
“Thank you again!” You said before leaving the stage. The people clapped for you except for Tom who just sat there with an expression no one could read.
You never interacted with Tom or his family the whole night and somehow, you were grateful for that. You never got a text from Sam anymore, but you did get a text from Tom’s new number a few days later asking for you two to meet in the place where you went on the spontaneous road trip to God knows where.
You drove up there with your new car and when you arrived, Tom was already there waiting for you. You parked and got out of the car before walking towards him.
“Hello.” You said, breaking the silence.
“Hi.” He said. “I figured we need to talk for closure.”
“Ahh. Yes, please.” You nodded.
“I don’t know where to start.” Tom admitted.
“Maybe start with the reason why you just left me.” You said bluntly.
“I just didn’t feel the spark anymore, okay? I grew feelings for someone else and I wanted to do it right without cheating, so I broke up with you and-”
“And got together with her the next day.” You finished for him. “Amazing, Tom. Really.” He didn’t say anything else anymore and you nodded and took this as your cue to leave. But before that you called out to him. He turned to look at you and you said, “Just know that I never lacked in our relationship. I’m just sorry that I actually believed that you were the one for me and I’m sorry that I believed what you said. I wish you all the best, Thomas. I do. You’re a great actor and I know your own blessings are still coming in.”
“Thank you.” He said. “You’re a great singer.”
You gave him a small smile and got in your car and drove away. The drive back hits differently because you remembered laughing with Tom as if the road trip happened yesterday, but it didn’t. You shook off the thoughts with a chuckle and just kept driving. You were finally letting go to start a new chapter in your life.
* * * *
who wants to see the soc med of this?
𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @blueleatherbag @cocoamoonmalfoy @thatforgottenangel @parkerpeter24 @turtoix @slutforsr @givebuckyhisplumsnow @buckys-little-hoe @runawayolives @chewymoustachio @hollandsrecs @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @yourstrulyamour @juliediggory @lharrietg @alexx-stancati @rumplebutterbaby @dummiesshort @spideyspeaches @thevelvetseries @buckymylove @quxxnxfhxll @marvelsimps @dreamy-clousds @bora-world @hunnybunimdun @supred12
𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @holland-styles @trustfundparker @calltothewild @felicityparkers @hufflepuffprincess24 @tommysparker @justasmisunderstoodasloki @quaksonhehe @call-me-baby-gir1 @itstaskeen @theonly1outof-a-billion @lost-in-the-stars03 @justafangirlduh @piscesparker @speedymaximoff @miraclesoflove @lexirv @blairscott @getbywithasmile @pqrkerr @lavender-writer @blackbat2020 @hoodpankow
#tom holland#tom holland one shots#tom holland angst#tom holland x reader#tom holland x y/n#in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh
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Better Man. ( Taehyung x OC)
Chapter 1 Chapter 2
Rated 18 +
Post Divorce, Getting Back Together, Second chances, Angst.
Chapter 3 ~ The problem with marriage is this : it isn’t worth the pain of divorce.
Denial isn’t healthy.
But sometimes it helps you stay sane , at least long enough to get your act together. When you’re in denial, you kind of keep yourself together a bit. You process things a bit more slowly. Take your time examining the facts.
It helps you make a delayed but possibly more informed decision.
Impulsive decisions never end well.
So it’s good to stew in denial for a while ( a short while) and then slowly begin processing what happened, think about it, think how its gonna affect you and then make a choice.
Unfortunately for Taehyung and I... I wasn’t in denial.
Maybe I should have been.
The time between Taehyung turning up drunk and the me leaving the house was less than twelve hours. Taehyung showed up drunk and I just told him I was leaving. That we needed a break and I didn’t know when I’d be back.
Terrible choice.
In the first twelve hours, the hurt is so potent and strong , the wound so raw and fresh that you can’t think beyond the pain . Your instinct is to repay the pain, to retaliate and make the other party feel exactly what you’re feeling. So you think of the thing that would hurt them the most and you go ahead and do it.
Like move out of your shared home of eight years, take away the son he adored and possibly rip the ground right out from under his feet.
And then after the first twelve hours, reason begins to catch up.
I had wanted to go back.
I had wanted to go back to him but I was scared.
Scared that I was being weak.
That if I didn’t stick to the choice I made, Taehyung would forever see me as a pushover. That he would take it as some sick permission to do it all over again. That he’d just think I was too weak to walk out on him.
And i couldn’t have that. I couldn’t have him hurting me and not facing the consequences of it. I just couldn’t.
So I stayed away.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I worked on the seventh floor of a high rise in Gangnam, probably a twenty minute drive from Taehyung’s agency. It was an electronic/ tech company that dealt with everything from mobile phones to home fittings . As the assistant director of Marketing I dealt with branding and keeping up the image of the company. Annual budgets, endorsements, campaigns and what not.
I was good at it and i enjoyed it . everyone agreed that i did a good job because the numbers spoke for themselves. But I think the main reason I got the job was because I was married to the biggest brand ambassador in the country.
“ I need the reports on consumer trends for this month and I want to meet with Social media team before lunch. There’s a drop in our web traffic and that needs to be fixed.” I told my assistant, accepting the hot coffee and muffin that he held in his hand before moving to the corner office, my strides faltering just a bit when i noticed that someone was already inside. The figure had his back to me but I could vaguely recognize the broad shoulders and muscular arms.
“Mr. Jeon’s been waiting for about ten minutes now.” Mingyu said with a smile and I nodded.
“That’s fine , I’ll handle him.” I waved my assistant off and moved to the door, unlocking it and stepping in.
“Morning, Jang Mi.” He smiled, eyes flashing with ill concealed delight and I inhaled to calm myself down. .
I could already feel a headache coming on.
“Jungkook.” I said curtly. “ To what do I owe this very early visit?” I glanced at my table finally taking the bottle of champagne in the small ice bucket.
“Thought we’d celebrate you finally being free.” He grinned.
Jeon Jungkook was handsome, intelligent , and annoyingly good at everything he did.
At 34, He was one of the youngest CFO’s in the industry, and everything he touched turned to gold. I didn’t report to him and he had zero reasons to be in my office at any given time. But , unfortunately he had never gotten that particular memo.
“I’m not in the mood, Jungkook.” I sighed, moving to the back of my desk and dropping my bag on the small ottoman on the side and my keys in the desk. I plugged my phone into the cable on the side and then went to open the blinds.
“Come on... You know how sick I’ve been of two years of hearing ‘ I’m sorry, I’m married.’ .... you’re gonna have to come up with a better excuse the next time i ask you out.”
“No. No is a whole entire sentence that you should be able to accept.” I said evenly, fixing the cushions on the couch only to have him plop down on them immediately after.
“One date. Dinner anywhere you like. i can fly you to Paris if you want.... Macua? Jeju Do? Tell me what you want and I’ll get it done. ?”
i stared at him.
“I want you to fire Kang Yeseul from the Social Media team.” I said with a shrug.
He frowned.
“The new girl? Why?”
“She’s been posting nudes that she took in my office when I was on leave last week. My name plate is literally visible.”
“Jesus fuck...these bitches get dumber by the minute.”
I couldn’t even deny it.
“I’ll take care of it.” He said swiftly. “ Anything else?”
“Web traffics gone down and I’m gonna find out why. It’s probably time for us to work out the budget for the Christmas Carnival. I think we should go for something new this time. If you can set up a meeting with all the department heads we can brainstorm a few ideas...”
“I can’t forget about that night.”
I froze.
God.
i turned around to stare at him as he lounged on the couch. If Kim Taehyung was the most handsome man I’d ever seen, Jungkook was definitely the second.
He was disconcertingly good looking and where Taehyung’s image was always the clean cut gentleman with the perfect character, Jungkook had a reputation as a bit of a delinquent. Simply because he had a penchant for leather jackets and liked to ride around Seoul on his motorbike on days off.
Which was ironical because in truth, Taehyung was far from a saint and Jungkook was relatively more put together
He was also a divorcee and a single parent. His daughter Jennie was easily the cutest two year old on the planet.
His wife and him had fifty fifty custody but she had cheated on him with his best friend. Jungkook had no patience for her. They had a very volatile relationship but he was fighting for full custody and rumor was that he would most certainly be granted it, soon.
A marathon runner , he didn’t drink or smoke.
Jungkook liked to paint and volunteered at an animal shelter once or twice a month because he loved dogs but couldn’t keep one because of his busy schedule.
So all in all , a pretty solid candidate if I was looking for a guy.
Honestly, if it weren’t for the fact that I was completely and utterly done with relationships for the rest of my life, I would actually give the guy a chance.
But , it is what it is.
“That sounds like a you problem. “ I shrugged. “ It was supposed to be one night with no strings attached. And by string I meant awkward conversations three months later .”
Jungkook groaned and sat up straighter, legs spread and shirt sleeves riding up to show a very sparkly watch. Rich men and their vices. I smirked a little.
“Come on... its just dinner. I want to get to know you, that’s it.” he held his hands up.
“There’s nothing to know Jungkook. I’m actually more boring than i appear, which is saying something. I’m not going to be the girl in the leather jacket clinging to your waist when you’re joyriding that motorbike of yours through Seoul. That’s not me. I would hate something that”
He chuckled.
“Are you sure? You ever tried it?”
I stared at him in disbelief.
“That’s not the point.”
“I’ll buy you a jacket. Join me this weekend. We’ll go a ride. Then you can make a decision.”
I opened my mouth to argue when the phone rang. I grabbed it quickly.
“Hello?”
“This is Lee Taemin from the Advertising Department.”
“Yes?”
“We have a Mr. Jung from HYBE on the phone. They want to talk to us about a possible candidate for our Christmas Campaign.... “
I blinked, surprised.
“We haven’t even decided on a theme yet. “
Choosing the right actors to endorse stuff was usually the last step.
“I know but he’s saying they want to talk about Mr. Kim Taehyung as a possible candidate?”
I felt my entire jaw come unhinged.
I turned to Jungkook stunned. His eyes widened at the look on my face and he mouthed a ‘ What’
“Please tell him I’ll call him back in fifteen minutes.” I said quickly.
“What’s wrong?” Jungkook demanded.
“Taehyung’s manager...he... he wants to make him the face of the Christmas Campaign.” I said dully, mind ringing. I was utterly stupefied.
Taehyung was the face of Gucci and Versace . He was so far out of our company’s league it wasn’t even funny.
Jungkook stared at me in disbelief.
“No.” He said quickly.
I gaped at him.
“What?”
“No... we can’t have that. He’s.. he’s obviously doing this to get back with you...”
I shook my head.
“that can’t be it. He’s the one who gave me a divorce. He’s the one who wanted to end it. “
It was the shock of what I’d heard. There was no other explanation for why I said that to Jeon Jungkook.
Jungkook gave me a look.
“Really? But you wanted one too right?”
“Of course I did.” I lied easily, waving him off. “Anyway that doesn’t matter. We can’t say no to him, Jungkook. Our sales would skyrocket if we get him onboard.”
Jungkook swore.
“Fuck, you’re right. The Ceo will probably piss himself in excitement. You sure you’ll be okay with it?”
Jungkook looked worried.
“You forget that Taehyung and I are actually quite good friends.” I said gently.
He grimaced.
“That's just unnatural. If you can stay friends with an ex it clearly means that either you’re still in love with each other or....”He shrugged.
“Or what?”
“Or you never loved each other in the first place.”
I swallowed the remark hitting a little too close to home for comfort.
“Schedule that meeting Jungkook. We’ll come up with a campaign theme that would fit Taehyung’s image. I’ll take to Hoseok and Taehyung.”
“You’re going to call Taehyung?” Jungkook asked casually.
“Hoshi’s with him today. I’ll probably go over to his place after work and talk to him in person.”
“Lucky bastard. He gets to hurt you and yet still have you.” Jungkook said bitterly.
I rolled my eyes.
“He doesn’t have me.”
“Doesn’t he? Why else would you turn down dates with anyone who asks? its one date.. a dinner... If you’re not still hung up on your ex husband why wouldn’t you just go on one date with-”
I’d really had quite enough of it. I threw my hands up in sheer exasperation.
“Alright fine.” I yelled, “ I’ll go to dinner with you...can you just stop psycho analyzing my relationship with my husband?”
Jungkook’s smile told me that I’d been played like a fiddle.
“excellent. Go see your husband after work and I’ll come pick you up at eight.”
“What...no wait...”
“I know where he lives. Don’t worry about it. I’ll schedule that meeting and maybe after lunch we can go over the kind of budget you’ll want. Okay?”
I felt a little like I’d stepped into quagmire.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I didn’t go see Taehyung after work.
I didn’t have to.
An hour before I was due to finish my daily report, he turned up at the office with my son. My assistant let him in and I could only gape at him.
“What are you guys doing here?” I asked , completely thrown.
“Mama I had ice cream with strawberries and sprinkles in a hundred colors.” Hoshi looked excited, eyes shining the way they usually did when he was with Taehyung.
“That sound incredibly exciting....”
“We missed you mama....can we go again?” He said excitedly.
“I’m sorry honey, Mama’s a little caught up with work...”
“Why don’t we wait?” Taehyung said cheerfully, “ Mama likes blueberry scones so we can get those for her...”
I stared at him.
“Okay...” I sad carefully, staring him down. What was he doing really?
“Okay... Can I go see the fishies....” Hoshi waved at the large fish tank built into the wall in my office and Taehyung laughed, letting him down.
“Sure bud.. go see how many of the fish you can identify...” He said brightly.
“ Since when do you pick me up for blueberry scones after work?” I asked briskly and he shrugged.
“Let the kid be happy , Mia. I heard Hobi hyung already spoke to you.”
“What is that all about, Tae?” I said tiredly.
“All the other offers i got are out of Korea. I want to stay with Hoshi during the Holidays so i thought this way , we could spend some time together..”
“By we, I hope you mean you and Hoshi.” I said drily.
“Of course. I could’ve picked another mall or something but i thought it could be a good thing if we worked at the same place... we can keep Hoshi with us and there wont be all the commuting back and forth nonsense....”
I nodded.
“I suppose you’re right. “ I sighed. “But be warned, you’re probably not going to have a very exciting time.
“I’ll enjoy it nonetheless.”
I nodded.
“I won’t tell you how to live your life And I most certainly won’t look a gift horse in the mouth. My Ceo might just give me a huge pay raise for this. He’s been waiting for it since the time he hired me.”
Taehyung gave me a smile.
“I would have done it the minute you asked. You never asked.”
I shrugged.
“Like I said, I won’t tell you how to live your life.”
“Jang Mi?” The knock on the door made us both look up.
Jungkook stood framed in the doorway, jacket off and slung over his arms . He looked bigger than usual, muscles straining against his button down and hair mussed.
He stepped in casually, holding a hand out to Taehyung.
“The golden boy of Korea. in the flesh. A pleasure to meet you Mr. Kim. I’m Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook”
The pair of them shook hands and I felt that I would rather be anywhere in the world than there.
“ Nice to meet you Mr. Jeon.” Taehyung smiled politely.
“We still on for tonight?” Jungkook asked casually, turning to me with a bright smile.
This is why i hated men.
Taehyung’s eyes snapped to me so fast that i was sure he must’ve got whiplash.
“Sure. I’ll call you.” I said shortly.
“What’s tonight?” Taehyung smiled, face neutral and smile still in place but his eyes flashed and his voice carried a knife edge to it.
“Business dinner. We’re going over the budget for the Christmas campaign.”
“Oh... where?” Taehyung asked with the same smile and I frowned.
“We’ve not decid-”
“I thought I could cook for you. i make a mean steak dinner and I thought I could pick up a bottle of your favorite wine on the way. You have my address right? ” Jungkook smiled.
Taehyung went still next to me, his entire body taut .
“A little inappropriate for a business dinner, don’t you think?” he snapped.
Jungkook glared back at him, eyes narrowed.
“Well, you know what they say about all work and no play-” he began but I’d had enough.
“I think this conversation needs to end now.” I said loudly.
They both shut up but glared at each other.
“I’m gonna make a reservation at the Hyatt for tonight. I’ll meet you there at seven thirty. “ I said, glaring at Jungkook.
He nodded.
“Pleasure meeting you Kim Taehyung.” He nodded curtly at my ex husband before moving away.
The silence he left behind was pretty awkward.
“Bit too much of a douchebag than your usual type.” Taehyung said casually.
I groaned.
“Don’t start.”
“ I won’t if you don’t date him.”
I opened my mouth to argue but then stopped.
“Lets just get that ice cream ? “ I said tiredly. Hoshi reappeared from the inside room, looking excited and happy and I smiled despite my weariness.
I could use a little sweetness in my life after a bitterly exhausting day.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author’s note : Feedback is welcome . Probably going to be a long , terribly angsty fic with a lot of pain for everyone involved. I still haven’t decided who ocs going to end up with so we’ll see... what do you guys think?
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Til Death Do Us Part ♜ Pt.7
➟ Pairing: Namjoon x Reader
➟ Genre: Angst, Fluff, Eventual Smut
↳ (3.8k), Arranged Marriage AU
➟ Summary: If someone told you that you’d be marrying the Kim Namjoon, you would think you were being lied to, or worse, that you were hallucinating. However, fate seems to have it’s own ways of making the impossible possible and before you even know it, the title of Mrs. Kim is bestowed onto you. There’s just one problem: you’re not sure if Kim Namjoon is the person he says he is and the truth of your own identity is dangling by the strength of a mere thread.
➟ Warnings: 18+ rating, the angst is strong with this one
gif credit.
➟ Previous Parts: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
➟ Next Update: Tuesday, February 2
The home is somewhat cozy.
It’s smaller than the one you and Namjoon have been occupying, doors and rooms completely foreign. There’s a serene meadow nearby that remains you of the garden, and within the interior of the house lies a surprisingly expansive assortment of spiraling halls, all leading into different directions.
The aftermath of your sudden kidnapping led Namjoon to the decision of temporarily retreating elsewhere.
“It’s not much, but it’s definitely doable.” He explains, pacing around the bedroom and double checking the various drawers for clothes, “I don’t think we’ll be here too long, but there seems to be enough supplies.”
You remain seated on the edge of the bed, eyes staring at the ground in silence. Namjoon quickly glances outside the window before resuming to take apparel out of them.
“We should be safe here.” He hurriedly says, carefully placing the clothes aside, “I haven’t been able to get into contact with my family either, so I’m hoping they know to stay under the radar after discovering our absence. In fact, I‒”
“You knew….”
Your voice is incredibly faint, akin to a whisper. He’s crouched down on the ground, hands clasped around a cotton shirt when they freeze in place.
Slowing rising from his spot, he turns to face you. The first thing that captures his attention is the accumulation of tears within your eyes, your features twisting.
“W-Why didn’t you just kill me?”
He walks closer to you, “Y/N…”
Your facade snaps, no longer able to play a game of pretend.
“I was sent to spy on you, Namjoon!” You rise from the bed, stalking towards him and placing your hands on his shoulders. “I was going to kill you!”
“Y/N!” You abruptly glance up, startled from his tone.
Namjoon holds a pained expression, and carefully holds your hands, just like you had reached out for his as you stopped him from going to work, “I-I’m not going to kill you….”
You can only stare, eyes wet and teeth digging into your bottom lip. The discovery has been killing you on the inside, the sinking awareness that he was capable of getting rid of you within any split second and that he knows, he knows of everything you’ve done in that house.
It’s slowly driving you insane….and it terrifies you.
“But why?!” You cry out, “I’ve killed Taehyung, I’ve murdered Eunjoo!”
Your hands frantically tremble, voice cracking, “What’s stopping me from killing you…?”
A wave of tears run down your cheeks and your quivering hands raise to cover your face. Amidst of contemplating everything you’ve done, you can’t understand his actions and it serves to make you wonder why you’re even here.
Why even bring someone as horrible as you into this house?
His arms immediately wrap around you, tugging you closer. Your head rests against his shoulder, sobs amplifying.
Namjoon sighs, his chest rising and deflating, “Honestly nothing is, if you ask me.”
He truthfully admits it ‒ you do have the power to end his life, and he knows that, “But I accepted that being with you meant that I couldn’t interfere with your work and I wasn’t planning to either, Y/N.”
“Y-You were waiting… you were waiting for me to kill you….” You shake your head as Namjoon continues to hold you, “I-I’ve killed so many people Namjoon…”
Somehow, his knowledge and awareness makes you want to confess it all ‒ confess how much your hands have been horribly tainted.
“I know, Y/N.” He whispers, “I know.”
The wedding has commenced.
An union between families has been forged.
And Namjoon is no longer a single man.
“I’d like to leave for bed now.” You smile, painting a look of exhaustion after conversing with Namjoon and his parents, “I’m feeling quite tired.”
“Of course, of course!” Namjoon’s mother understandably waves you off as Namjoon’s father wraps a hand around his son.
“Go on, Y/N! We need to catch up anyways!” His father says, smiling at him.
Namjoon stiffens in his hold as you depart, following after his father into a separate room.
The moment the door shuts close, the warm tone in Namjoon’s eyes turns cold. There’s a dark look in his father’s irises as he crosses his arms and leans against the wooden desk, staring at his son intently.
He already knows what words he’s about to spew, and it's something his father acknowledges.
“You know already, don’t you? Of what those pesky L/N’s sent into your home?”
Namjoon hums, meeting the latter’s stare intently, “How long do you intend on keeping her around before getting rid of her?”
“Perhaps for all of eternity.” His father lets out a snarl, but Namjoon challengingly quirks up a brow in retaliation.
“Are you being serious?” He slams his fist against the table, “Do you even hear what you’re saying?!”
Namjoon’s mouth twitches, “I’ve already told you and mother multiple times ‒ I plan on marrying only once.”
“So you’re going to have a L/N spy for a wife?! And bury this empire to the ground?!”
“As the next heir, what I do to the business will be out of my own accord,” He sharply retorts, “And Y/N....has me for a husband. I’m no better than she is.”
His father’s face turns bright red, angry veins running through his neck. Thankfully he doesn’t notice how Namjoon’s voice softens when he speaks of you, or the way there’s something spurring silently within his eyes, something that begins with pure curiosity and ends with wishing for a reflection.
“You will bring our empire to its downfall.”
Namjoon smiles.
“Then so be it.”
***
Kim Namjoon is blind.
He doesn’t speak nor scrutinize, not a word leaving him as he notices a small wire sticking out from the bedroom window, ironically appearing to just be a simple one used for electricity but perfect enough to be connected to a static code receptor.
He doesn’t retaliate with anything when you coincidentally arrive at his office with the excuse of bringing his forgotten lunch, painting on naive eyes during the meeting he holds with the shareholders of his company. He becomes aloof to their glares and scoffs, granting you complete access without being intrusive, and yet without any of his own actions, your exterior cracks ‒ breaking it on purpose to protect and defend your own family.
His eyes flicker at witnessing your intent firsthand and without hesitation, he offers his help even if it meant welcoming deceit with open arms.
Perhaps that act makes Namjoon hopeful, too hopeful in fact, when he draws more interest in you and wants to know more, even if your words are filled with lies and twisted truths. Perhaps his curiosity of who his wife truly is becomes too much for him to handle, that he must simply know about the person behind the mask, the person he saw at the altar that was avoiding his gaze and looking terrified beyond belief. He sees her again briefly when you begin to indulge him about your life before becoming a spy, but Namjoon can already pinpoint that he’s too hopeful as your mask surfaces again, innocently maneuvering yourself into being allowed to accompany him to his company’s warehouse.
It makes him wonder, wonder if he was truly playing himself into a trap. If his father was right in a way, if he should simply cut off his hopeful ties and ultimately step away before it’s too late.
But Namjoon decides to do something different, he decides to do something that you might be horribly frightened by, but he won’t ever hesitate to do.
He becomes truthful.
He tells you everything, what his business is, what his family is, what he is, and he can clearly see it. The terror that swims within your eyes, the astonishment that crosses you with being confronted by the truth and the hesitation, the very hesitation that drives his hopes up higher than they could be.
But there’s one factor that Namjoon underestimated, and that’s how far you were willing to go to fulfill your role.
He hates how late it took him to realize, scorns at how the combination of your sudden nausea coupled with Taehyung’s departure wasn’t obvious enough for him to decipher.
The moment he comes back home that day, it’s strangely silent. He assumed that Eunjoo would be around and that you were perhaps consulting with her about your health, but the moment he rushes up the stairs, he can see it all.
It looks squeaky clean, save for the few drops of blood stuck to the underside of one of the carpets that would have been easily ignored.
Abruptly, the sound of the shower alerts him, and he knows exactly where the culprit is.
He knocks on the door, carefully leaning his ear against the wood.
“Y/N? Y/N, are you feeling better?”
“Y-Yeah...I’m feeling much better, Namjoon.”
His eyes narrow. The sound of water restricts his ability to hear properly and gives you a sufficient reason not to face him at the moment, and your voice is hesitant and deeper than usual.
The incident happened very close to his arrival, and you’ve been injured in the process.
“Alright….I’ll just be here, if you need anything.”
Before heading off to bed, he attempts to assess the situation to the best of his ability.
Taehyung left shortly after you were feeling sick and was convinced that having you around was a bad call on his part. If Namjoon doesn’t hear from him tomorrow, it’s highly likely that he was able to figure the truth about your identity and decided to finish the job himself, ultimately failing.
Eunjoo is nowhere inside the house. She doesn’t leave at sporadic times with informing him or leaving behind a notice, making it possible that she unintentionally found out who you were and decided to take action.
There was only one simple method you could have used to render them silent.
His back hits the wall as he squeezes his eyes shut, a deep remorseful sigh leaving his lips.
“Why did the two of you need to get involved in this?”
After that night, Namjoon sees a stark difference within you. It’s almost like there’s a deep crack within the surface of your mask, your own worries and concerns easily leaking out.
And you make no move to sew it up.
It brings him to the point where he even convinces you to go back home, that maybe leaving all this would grant some peace of mind to you. In the process, he was even able to keep the investigation under control and the spotlight away from you, as his involvement and words were trusted more than anything.
But of course, your collective duties to your families reigns higher than anything.
Ultimately, he knew solely getting involved in the investigation placed him in threatening territory. That as subjected, he would be able to easily decipher your actions and be given the opportunity to compromise your identity.
So what better way was there, than to get rid of him? To pretend your husband met with an unfortunate incident, all while to cover up your tracks along the way?
It was his last day ‒ he knew it. He would have to conclusively tie up your investigation in such a way that you would never be found out as the culprit. His perceived demise led to him parting a farewell gift for you as well, something he had hoped he would have survived long enough to see you wear.
But when given the golden opportunity, you casted away your ensuing aim, choosing to save him instead.
After taking time to calm down, a question lingers in your mind for Namjoon.
“A-Are you going to tell anyone?” You wonder, peering over at the opposite side of the bed where he sits, “About me…?”
Namjoon looks away from the window, instantly shaking his head, “Of course not.”
Although his answer spreads relief through you, a small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “But I do have to say, having a wife that was prepared to secretly kill me would have made a really good brunch story.”
You let out an exhale, shaking your head with a smile that manages to crack through, “My family won’t know about you either, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that my life is in danger.”
At the mention of prior events, you crane your head to the side and narrow your eyes.
“It’s strange.” You place a pondering finger on your lips, “No one ever informed me that the Kim family was being targeted….”
Eyes suddenly widening, an abrupt thought sparks in your mind.
Your voice drops into a whisper, “My mission…”
“Huh?” Namjoon leans forward, attempting to catch a glimpse of you. Turning around, there’s dread in your eyes.
“My mission.” You repeat, firmer this time. “It’s been compromised.”
Recognition spreads through his irises as you uncomfortably shift.
The feeling of a target resting on your back as well makes your stomach wind up into a thousand knots.
“Well, are you going to follow through with it?”
Your brows furrow immediately, answer coming through without hesitation, “No.”
“Then the best way to combat it is to act as if nothing ever happened.” Namjoon explains, “They don’t need to know that someone is aware of your true identity.”
Your eyes twinkle with the information, “Then I’ll need to set up some kind of communication line with them.”
For this to work, you’ll need to keep in touch and send false reports through. However, your hopes dwindle with the knowledge that you don’t have any of your equipment with you.
As if he knows exactly what you're thinking, Namjoon quirks up a smile and slides off the bed. He reaches his hand out to you, which you take in confusion.
“Come on, I still need to show you the rest of the house.”
***
Namjoon ends up leading you to a separate hallway, one that’s extremely lengthy and almost never ending until you reach a door you wouldn’t have been able to find yourself. As Namjoon knocks against it and presses his ear against the door, you notice a handful of maids walking by, some sending you friendly smiles that you return.
The door opens and Namjoon gestures you inside.
You’re greeted to the sight of two men in the room. One of them leans against a wooden table with his arms crossed, a pair of glasses resting on the bridge of his nose and his brown hair considerably tousled. The other sits at the same table, his cheeks full and blonde hair parted to the side.
The blonde haired man eyes are wide, staring at you in fascination.
“Is this her?” He immediately blurts out, and when Namjoon nods, he instantly gets up and rushes over.
A breathtaking angelic smile spreads across his features as he reaches his hand out, “Hi, it’s great to finally meet you.”
You return the gesture but are puzzled with the interaction, your eyes swaying over to Namjoon. The man with the glasses stands up straighter, walking over to you with his hands in his pockets.
His gaze is scrutinizing and there’s a faint twinkle residing within his irises. “Do you know who we are?”
You're hesitant to answer, shaking your head.
He immediately scoffs, eyes blazing with anger, “You never mentioned us?!”
At the sound of his spiking loud tone, Namjoon sheepishly smiles and just shrugs. The man scoffs again, shaking his head.
The action makes your mind churn, and the more you stare at the two, the more bits and pieces of information begin to weave together.
Something suddenly flickers within your eyes, jaw instantly dropping down. Your finger shakingly points towards him in awe.
“K-Kim Seokjin….” Your sight moves over to the man you just shook hands with, pupils widening with more realization, “and Park Jimin?”
A smug smile crosses Seokjin’s lips, “Ah so you do know who we are, Miss Y/N.”
His voice gives off the inkling that he knows just as much about you as you know of him ‒ even doubting that his extensive knowledge is perceptive and aware of more.
“I’ve only seen the two of you a handful of times,” You turn to Namjoon, “When I was familiarizing myself with individuals involved in the business, we had plenty of photographs and records on each person and the tasks they oversee.”
“‒But there were some individuals that barely had any information on them. They would be spotted near you from time to time and aside from just a name, those parties remained a mystery.”
Your eyes flicker up again, oscillating between the two. Seokjin smiles, appearing impressed with your ability to remember the trivial matters.
Namjoon steps forward, offering up an explanation, “I think it’s great that we don’t need an introduction, but it’ll probably surprise you to know that Seokjin and Jimin are shareholders within my company.”
Your jaw instantly drops and Namjoon chuckles, “I’d like to call them my secret shareholders, because aside from funding and aiding me with my company, they’re both equipped with other skills.”
At the mention of it, Jimin lets a small smile slip out and Seokjin’s eyes twinkle. “They’re the only ones I can truly trust and because of that, I don’t expose them to the world and they know to keep a low profile.”
You nod, slowly processing the information. It's still baffling to know that despite the amount of rigorous training and memorization you’ve done to prepare yourself for this task, there was still something missing that you wouldn’t have known until Namjoon told you himself.
And their ultimate purpose is something he eventually explains.
“The reason why I’m introducing you to them is because they will be staying with us until it’s safe to return home,” He points to Seokjin, “And I wanted to bring you to someone that knows communication lines inside and out, so that you can send your reports back.”
Your wide eyes come into contact with Seokjin’s, and he begins to back away, gesturing to you as he heads towards the door. You take it as a sign that you need to follow after him, leaving Namjoon and Jimin behind as you exit.
He leads you down a separate hall, entering a room with multiple devices attached to the walls. There’s various cords and headsets that mimic your initial intelligence reporting within the dark corridor, alongside computers with jargon written on them.
Your first reaction is to simply stare in awe, “Wow….”
Seokjin smiles, flopping down on a chair and wheeling himself over to a computer. He hands you a headset, beginning to type frantically on one of the computers.
“This is how you’re going to hear the signals being sent through.” Spinning around in his chair, he grabs onto a bronze and steel contraption and gives it to you, “This is an upgraded version of a telegraph sounder that connects to these computers and should allow you to send information via morse code.”
Your eyes instantly light up in recognition and you begin to carefully tap against the metal, noticing a reception signal forecasting onto the screen. Seokjin points it out to you right away and begins to type something into the keyboard.
“This technology is so advanced….” You mumble, eyeing the screen keenly.
“It’s good for using multiple lines when the signal you’re sending out isn’t just being received by one location.” Seokjin explains.
You hum, continue to test out the machinery. Seokjin hooks you up to the same line you were using to communicate previously and when a successful correspondence is sent through, he grins.
After assisting you through the process, you start sending the information over like usual. Seokjin glances at his phone, slowly rising from his seat.
“I have to get back to the others.” He guides you to sit where he was, letting you take over completely, “Namjoon wants to discuss the events of what happened with you two.”
You nod, eyes glued with the screen and occupied with decoding and understanding the message you receive. “If you need anymore help, don’t hesitate to ask.”
You quickly nod and Seokjin carefully exits the room, attempting to disturb you in the middle of communicating. Your hands work furiously to decode the messages, pupils rapidly flickering all over the screen.
However in the midst of this process, you don’t notice the abrupt static coming through from a screen that was previously turned off.
***
By the time you leave the room, you are thoroughly exhausted.
It seems so far things are under control, though you were vigorously questioned on the delay of your previous mission. A tumble of excuses are conjured within a spindle of minutes, differing from your simple inability to do so due to your husband constantly being occupied with your investigation and the fact that he has been remaining underneath the spotlight. Regardless, it seems acceptable enough and though displeased ‒ you’re reminded that the job must be conducted efficiently as soon as possible.
Wiping your clammy hands against one another, you peer around the hallways. It’s still considerably mind spinning to understand where the long expansive pathways lead to, especially in such a small house, but a friendly smile greets you right away.
“Miss Y/N?”
You whirl around to see one of the maids you had passed by earlier on, and she bows before you.
“Master Kim alerted me that you were in this room.” She explains, “He’s been waiting for you.”
You nod in retaliation, following after her. Your eyes begin to roam around, noticing the fine wood carvings on each door and the way there are multiple rooms in the current corridor you’re in. It doesn’t seem much like a house but more so like a mansion with its endless ways.
The maid leading you abruptly stops and you tilt your head to the side, attempting to see what was before her. The sight of a window greets you instantly and you raise an eyebrow, but suddenly it dawns upon you that you’re no longer in the same hallway anymore.
Instantly, your eyes snap up and the maid swivels, her hands wrapping firmly around your mouth from behind. You erratically kick your legs and attempt to grab onto bundles of her hair, but your shoes are soon dragging against the carpet.
Your brows shoot up in alarm when more maids begin to pool in ‒ one of them begins to strenuously wrap a broken wire around your hands as another gives the first maid a damp piece of cloth. They immediately switch places, the fabric pressed right against your nose as you furiously push away from them with muffled grunts.
Suddenly a wave of vertigo hits you and your eyes begin to frantically dart around, barely being able to focus on the way a cool breeze hits your face.
As seconds fly by, your limbs fall limp and your pupils roll back in your sockets, rendering you completely unconscious.
#btswriterscollective#btsbookclub#namjoon fanfic#bts namjoon fanfic#kim namjoon fanfic#bts rm fanfic#namjoon fluff#namjoon angst#namjoon smut#bts namjoon fluff#bts namjoon angst#bts namjoon smut#bts namjoon arranged marriage au#bts arranged marriage au#bts rm arranged marriage au#bts fluff#bts fanfic#bts angst#bts smut#bts scenarios#bts imagines#namjoon x reader#namjoon x oc
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Prompt 50. But Berserk & Boomer😔👉👈💕
50. “I thought you left.”
We’re calling this one Unfortunately, She Impressed Him. This is a pair of characters I love with all my heart in any flavor of relationship and can’t wait to write more of in my ongoing multi-chapter fic Trinity House over on AO3.
This fic is part of a prompt challenge that is now closed to new requests, but you can read all the completed submissions here. Reminder that the challenge is to make everything SFW, so we’re getting creative here.
xxx
Boomer was halfway across the deserted lobby of Faust Keating Rogers, LLP when he realized he’d forgotten his keys at his desk. He groaned aloud because it was 8 p.m. and no one was around to hear him because they had all gone home to their families hours ago like normal people. Boomer didn’t have two to three kids and a house in the suburbs, though, and neither did his boss. The three hour lull reserved for dinner, baths, and bedtimes before the evening work-from-home grind offered him no alternative but to power through. He fully planned to grab take out on his way home and enjoy an episode of whatever was on HBOMax before getting back to the tedious work of reviewing the draft prospectus statement his boss had sent him to proof by tomorrow morning.
Except, his keys were forty floors up and he now had to risk running into her again when he’d managed to slip away so neatly. He’d even removed his tie on the elevator ride down, and now he rubbed his exposed neck, flushed with anxiety over what might happen if she saw him and asked him to stick around to finish the work here.
“Nice going, dumbass,” he lamented as he stepped onto the elevator and hit the button for the fortieth floor.
It wasn’t that Boomer disliked his job. In fact, he didn’t mind it at all. It was better than slinging drinks or waiting tables. He had health insurance, a steady paycheck, and a resumé that could proudly display the name of one of the most elite accounting firms in the country. He could pivot his career if he wanted to, as Brick would say. Boomer wasn’t thinking about his next job right now, though. Right now, he was thinking about this one and how his boss was a hard-ass and a workaholic even if she was brilliant, and how there was a one hundred percent chance she would detect him coming back to his desk (which was annoyingly set up right in front of her office so that he could answer her calls, manage her meetings, and deal with whoever passed close enough to her event horizon to get suckered into the latest heinous audit in need of staffing).
There were his traitorous keys sitting on the desk next to the framed picture of his brothers. He glared at them, as if they were a forgotten household item that had developed a supernatural grudge like in those old Japanese folktales he liked to read online. He half expected them to jingle and alert his boss to his presence, just to spite him.
They didn’t, and he slipped them into his pocket as quietly as could be. He released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and took a beat. It was quiet. Most of the offices were dark, save for a few poor souls in the large conference room stuck on the ongoing year-end audit for one of the firm’s most important clients: Unicorn, Inc. His boss’s office was also lit up behind her closed door, but she hadn’t called out to him like she would during the day when he got back from his lunch break hoping for a few minutes to catch up on emails in peace before she dumped more work on him.
This, of course, was odd. The small legion of assistants who had come before Boomer were notorious for their short-term employment working this specific desk. The work was demanding and so was the boss, but there was something else that set her apart from other senior associates in the International Tax Services division, something that seemed to intimidate away any support the higher ups sent her way. Denise a couple desks down had warned Boomer not to bring too many personal effects to the office; chances were he wasn’t going to last long. Boomer had smiled thinly and thanked Denise for her advice, and brought the picture of his brothers in the next morning because he had his pride and Brick told him it was healthy to indulge that once in a while. Brick would certainly know.
So here he was, uncertain. Anxiety over having to sit here for another two hours finishing work and having tepid Doordash delivered pulled him toward the elevator and escape, while that annoying, rare pride demanded he check on his boss and make sure she knew he was here to support her, lest she get the idea that he needed to be fired.
The longer he stood there, indecisive, the greater his curiosity grew. What was she doing in there? It was quiet, even when he strained his Super hearing. He could hear Dean Matheson pouring whiskey a few offices down (that guy had a drinking problem and everyone knew they only kept him around because he had the Unicorn, Inc. account), Adebayo Hansou on a conference call with Dubai that was escalating to profanity, Shelly Kim with her head down and typing away at an Excel spreadsheet like a pro. Their assistants were long gone for the night, but here was Boomer, loitering and indecisive and what is she doing in there not yelling at me when she definitely knows I’m here?
He couldn’t take it anymore. He knocked on the closed door—rap, rap, rap—and called out softly, “Berserk?”
A beat, then: “Come in.”
Finding his boss in upward facing dog while still in her pencil skirt was not a sight Boomer was prepared for. Berserk had her eyes closed as she stretched at a near ninety degree angle and listened to music on her Airpods. Boomer had never seen her with her heels off and her mane of red hair thrown together in a messy bun; it was so casual that it was almost obscene.
“You’re staring.”
Fuck, he was staring and now she was looking right at him down her nose, even though she was the one on the floor. He stood up straighter, unable to help himself when she took that tone that reminded him so much of Brick’s when he was about to criticize, but he didn’t avert his gaze. “Sorry.”
She breathed in deeply through her nose and hoisted herself up into downward dog position. “Why are you here?”
Forgot my keys seemed like a really lame excuse that she’d probably laugh at him for, but he also was not in the habit of making shit up on the spot if he hoped to make people believe him. “I forgot my keys.” He took them from his pocket to show her, as if she might not know what keys are, as a concept.
“Smart locks.” Berserk exhaled and slowly walked her hands back on the yoga mat until she reached her feet and began to swing slowly left and right.
Huh? he almost said like an idiot, until he caught himself. “Don’t think my landlord would approve of me installing that.” Also, those things were like $200 a pop, which was not worth the occasional inconvenience and shame of forgetting his keys and then catching his boss doing yoga in her office after hours.
Berserk made some noncommittal sound like whatever, peasant and slowly uncurled upward one vertebra at a time. Boomer realized he was back to staring again, literally lingering in her door watching her and trying to equate this subdued, casual version of Berserk with the terse, no-nonsense businesswoman he was used to dealing with on a daily basis.
When she finally achieved her full height, she popped her neck. The hair that was too short for her bun fell in around her narrow face in a stylish, athleisure sort of way. The top buttons on her blouse were undone. She wore a small, golden necklace he’d never noticed before because he wasn’t in the habit of checking out his boss. “I thought you left.”
The accusatory nature of her words were totally at odds with her flat tone, only the barest hint of curiosity dangling there at the end, like she expected him to respond.
Oh, she expected him to respond.
Boomer took another step into her office because he was full of poor judgment today. “I forgot my keys.”
At which point he showed her his keys again and also had a mild stroke, because what the fuck are you doing, mate?
Berserk smiled. “Yeah, I got that part.”
Was she laughing at him? He had never heard her laugh before, unless it was at Dean Matheson, that comb-over in denial who, in addition to being a high functioning alcoholic, also had a reputation for throwing associates under the bus when a client wasn’t happy.
Boomer smiled back, because that was what he did when people smiled at him, and ‘people’ now included Berserk, apparently.
“Well, since you’re here,” she said as she padded around to her desk.
Crap, there was the work he was afraid of soliciting from her by remaining in the building. He debated an excuse to give her: picking up dry cleaning? Plausible, but transparent. Meeting up with his brothers? No, she’d probably make him stay all night for the chance to ruin Brick’s plans.
“Thai or Mexican?”
Boomer stared dumbly. He was becoming quite good at that (10,000 hours and you can become an expert at anything, they say). “Huh?”
The yoga must have put Berserk in an exceedingly gracious mood, because she actually repeated her question without getting that look on her face like she was picturing him getting trampled by stampeding monsters. “Thai or Mexican? I don’t have a preference.”
Oh.
Oh.
Boomer’s stomach picked that time to snarl at him—8 p.m. and still no dinner, the fiend.
Berserk snorted in laughter and fanned herself with her phone. “Jesus. Mexican it is.”
Which was how Boomer found himself on the small sofa tucked in the corner of Berserk’s office, shoes off and belt loosened, with enough tacos, tamales, and rice and beans to feed a small family. He even had a beer from the mini fridge Berserk kept under her desk.
She hadn’t stayed late to work. Well, she had, but only because she didn’t have a reason to go home.
“I just hate getting home to a dark apartment sometimes,” she said in between bites of food. She had her legs tucked up under her on the sofa close enough to brush Boomer’s thigh if he reached to grab the salsa.
“I thought you lived with your sister?”
“Brute got her own place a few months ago. The arrangement was only temporary while she was in between jobs.”
It was weird knowing so little about a person whose whole family had been in Boomer’s inner orbit since childhood. As far as he knew, Berserk wasn’t close to any of her cousins, not even Blossom. Boomer himself had never been more eager to leave a room than when Brat walked into it. Only Butch, Brute, and Buttercup had ever found common ground among each other once the sworn rivalries and blood feuds of their youth gave way to teenage rebellion against their respective overlord fathers and then the slog of adulthood that was inescapable even for a bunch of Supers flying high on Chemical X.
The fact that Boomer had gotten this job surprised him more than anyone. After drifting from restaurant jobs to office temp placements over the last six years, he’d never thought he would dust off his economics degree and land a temp-to-permanent position that seemed way above his qualifications. And he never thought it would be working for a woman he’d most definitely electrocuted in battle at least a dozen times before puberty.
“What?”
Boomer blinked. He’d been staring again, Jesus Christ. “Sorry, I was just thinking… I didn't know that. I’ve been working here for five months and I don’t actually know much about you at all.”
“Hm.”
Her magenta eyes were wine-dark against the murky sky beyond the window forty stories up. Boomer did avert his gaze this time to reach for the salsa, but he didn’t use it.
“I don’t even know why you invited me to stay for dinner in the office if we’re not going to do any work.”
“Why did you stay?”
“For the free food.”
Berserk grinned—the third time she had smiled at him tonight (or ever). He needed to stop counting; he’d be disappointed when it stopped happening tomorrow.
“Don’t get used to it. Much as I appreciate the company now and again, there’s no need for both of us to be stuck here while Matheson’s breathing down the associates’ necks. Can’t have him poaching you out from under me.”
“Well, I don’t work for him; I work for you.”
“It’s sweet how you don’t understand office politics.” She ate a lone slice of avocado with a fork. “He landed Unicorn back when they were early stage, and back when he was still putting in the work to earn his reputation. But since they IPO’d three years ago and make up twenty percent of our revenue now, he’s just another big name coasting by on associate work. You know he regularly schedules client calls and just doesn’t bother to show up? He forgets half the time, and the other half he’s busy playing golf or buying a yacht or whatever the fuck rich, white Boomers do.”
“Well, as a Boomer myself, I can say I’ve spent exactly zero hours buying yachts.”
She chuckled. Fourth time. “Oh, really.”
“Never even thought of yachts. As far as I’m concerned, they’re not even real.”
“Thanks for your expert opinion.”
“Any time.” Boomer turned his body to face her and draped his arm over the back of the sofa. With only the soft light from the floor lamp in the corner, he imagined himself adrift in the darkness, the sky scraper lights nearby stars. It was a lonely thought, one made romantic in the knowledge that she was here too, and he wasn’t actually alone.
“Matheson almost did poach you, you know.”
“What do you mean?” Boomer couldn’t recall exchanging more than a few words with the man.
“When we were filling support positions. Someone recognized you from the news a few years back, when the Cyclops Monster attacked the marina district and you and your brothers took it out. Matheson got it in his head that you’d be able to work at Super speed and help lower his billables.”
“Wow. Maybe you should’ve let him. What do you think the net savings would be in yacht units of measurement?”
Berserk rolled her eyes, but she was smiling again. “I claimed you before he could get the paperwork in.”
Boomer hyper-focused on that word: claimed. He also pointedly ignored it entirely, much in the same way he ignored the new count of five smiles tonight. “Showed him your bending powers, did you?”
Berserk’s Corona bottle turned frosty under her hand in a totally unnecessary, big dick energy display of said powers, and she took another sip. “No. Sharon from HR likes me. And I promised her I wouldn’t fire you after three months like your predecessors.”
Flattered was not how Boomer would describe the feeling of being claimed by Berserk and eluding Matheson’s vampiric clutches. But he was a bit tickled all the same. This was the woman Butch had once described as essentially Brick, if he were constipated all the time.
And then he realized what she was doing. “Hey, you’re sharing things about yourself.”
She clinked her bottle to his, and Boomer shivered at the frosty chill she transferred on contact. “Aw, you figured it out all by yourself.”
“Ha ha.”
She didn’t quite smile, but she did look kind of serene then, content even, as she lay back against the arm of the sofa and yawned. Her gold necklace—just a simple disk with an engraving Boomer could not make out—reflected the lamp light when she moved. It rested just beneath her collarbone, which had suddenly become the single-most interesting part of Berserk, and oh no, was he interested—
“You’re staring again.”
Son of a bitch.
“Sorry,” he said automatically. “I didn’t mean to.”
Hard no. He was not allowed to be any percent attracted to Berserk. First, she was his boss, and there was a cliché here that, while subverted on the gender role spectrum, was still very risky for both of them. Second, she was Berserk, a fellow Super, cousin to his best friend Bubbles and a shrewd, stiletto bitch in Brick’s estimation, which sounded bad. Not that she was bad, or even evil, unless you counted helping rich corporations accurately report their taxes while taking advantage of the many egregious loopholes in the Internal Revenue Code. Which, okay, point taken, but he also worked here and anyway, people should not be deemed good or evil so much as their choices ought to be—
“Are you thinking about fucking me?”
You shrewd, stiletto bitch!
She was smiling again, and Boomer pathetically logged that as the sixth time, although he wasn’t sure he should count it given the overt malice behind it.
Unfortunately, Boomer was, as had been previously established, very bad at making shit up on the fly. So he miserably said, “Yeah.”
“Hm.”
She sipped her beer slowly, and of course he watched. If it was out in the open, as fleeting a bout of insanity as it may have been, at least he could wallow in it without worrying about appearances.
It was the yoga. That fucking upward facing dog, Jesus Christ.
It was more than that too. Over the last few months, he had worked closely with her, watched her navigate the cutthroat halls full of piranhas like Matheson and other account managers, getting herself work on the best clients while managing her juniors with efficiency and professionalism. She was excellent and sharp, and she demanded excellency and sharpness in kind. After years of going it alone or temping for bosses who didn’t care enough even to learn his name, much less provide him with guidance and mentorship, it was an unspeakable relief to work under someone who knew how to rally the troops. Someone who knew how to lead, how to motivate, and how to reward loyalty with loyalty in return. It didn’t hurt that she looked amazing in her daily stilettos, either.
Unfortunately, she impressed him.
“I have some work to get done tonight.” Berserk stood up and smoothed her skirt.
Boomer scrambled to his feet. “Of course! Um.” He began closing food containers and repackaging them in the bags they’d come in, because he was panicking. “I’ll get rid of the trash. Do you want the leftovers in the fridge?”
“You take them. Otherwise my office will smell like a burrito for a week.”
“Okay.” Numbly, Boomer finished packing everything up, while Berserk made her way back to her desk and logged into her computer to check her emails.
Boomer lingered at the door. “I’ll have the prospectus back to you later tonight.”
“Thanks.”
Wow, way to go, stud.
He turned to leave, but her voice stopped him.
“Boomer?”
“Yeah?”
“Friday is good.”
He stared back at her in expert mode. “Huh?”
Berserk poked her head around the side of her large, external monitor. She was smiling again. Lucky number seven. “For fucking.”
“Okay,” Boomer said.
Okay?!
She pulled back behind her monitor. “I was going to get a cat, but you’ll do much better.”
Because she didn’t like going home to a dark, empty apartment alone. With no one to fuck.
“That was a joke.”
“Yeah, I got that,” he croaked.
Friday is for fucking, he thought, which was delightful alliteration and also completely insane and one hundred percent something he was getting more on board with by the nanosecond.
“See you tomorrow,” she said.
Boomer clutched the leftover Mexican food in his fist. “Okay. Goodnight.”
It took him the time to fly home and put the food away in his small fridge to realize that he had a sort-of date with Berserk lined up for two days from now.
He Y-posed at the window and whooped, “Hell yes!!”
Loud pounding in the floor followed by old Mrs. Cruikshank’s muffled Keep it down! couldn’t bring down his mood.
Boomer leaped onto his threadbare, living room sofa with his work laptop and took to the prospectus with alacrity. He’d send over superior work product and make Berserk’s job just that much easier tomorrow morning.
xxx
If you enjoy my writing, check out more of my fics on AO3, link in my profile. I’m currently updating Trinity House (which has a lot more Berserk and Boomer content, btw!) and The Alchemy of Us. Thanks for reading!
#powerpuff girls#powerpuff girls fanfic#bersoomer#ppg berserk#ppg boomer#september fic prompts#so this turned into a 3k one shot because i love these characters and i couldn't help myself#tfw considering a part 2
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Love Me A Little Less: Chapter 6 - Misogynist
LOVE ME A LITTLE LESS CHAPTER MASTERLIST
Member: (3rd person pov) arranged marriage au with Lee Juyeon
Genre: angsty wangsty
Taglist: @hyunjaethereal @sunwoowuvbot
“Don’t offend me.”
“No, I think the best course of action for HERA & ARTEMIS is that we not only branch out to collaborate with other companies, but also to make um… say, connections with non-profit organisations. Orphanages, charities, you name it. The publicity HERA & ARTEMIS will get after being recognised as a community-caring brand, a brand that cares no less than it’s maximum ability to about children, the elderly and the disabled.”
“Charitable. I like it,” The Resources CEO of The Board nods with a wine of champagne in his glass. even at her own wedding, all the bride can think of is work. All she cares about is how to make sure HERA & ARTEMIS is heard in the crowd of attendees to her wedding. “Anyway, a gorgeous wedding, I must say. What made you have it at home? I’d expect that your father and brother would have wanted it somewhere more… ravish, y’know, more extravagant.”
It takes some effort to hide her disgust at the thought that her father had a say over where she wanted to have her wedding.
“Of course not,” The service smile almost feels surgically implanted into her face, even Jang Won herself is put off. “Juyeon and I have already planned this right off the bat, have it at Hera’s Manor.”
“Why not at the Lee House? I thought the Lee’s would’ve preferred it there, you know, husband and all.”
Jang Won could’ve slapped the glass of champagne out of his grasp if she wanted to, then probably break the bowl off the stem and send it into his eye.
Misogynist.
“We—”
“The Lee House doesn’t have the facility and resources to hold a wedding now,” Juyeon comes round with a cup of whiskey, cheeks slightly pink from the alcohol as he rounds his arm around Jang Won, pulling her into his torso and even bothering to press a kiss into her temple. “It isn’t as presentable as you’d expect it to be. Hera’s Manor is well-kept and it looks like it’s prepped for a party every other day.”
Juyeon smiles politely, eyes drifting from the Resources CEO to Jang Won, and for a split second, Jang Won might just feel somewhat impressed he stood up for her. “You know what they say, if you need something done, a lady will do it fast and efficient.”
The Resources CEO provides the newly wedded couple an awkward smile, not really able to spit out a proper response to Juyeon’s rebuttal.
“Anyway, love, your brother’s asking for you in your office. Some administrative issues that cropped up,” Juyeon pulls away and turns his body, feet already pointing away from the Resources CEO. “If you’ll excuse us, Mr Teuk.”
Juyeon lowers his head as a sign of respect, though he probably doesn’t mean it. He gently tugs on Jang Won and leads her out of the courtyard.
“Please tell me there aren’t any actual administrative manners Younghoon wants to talk to me about,” Jang Won seethes as she walks up the yard stairs and into the main hall.
“‘Course not,” Juyeon subtly shakes his head. “He’s having the time of his life actually, getting acquainted with the other members of The Board. Have you always been the one helping him with Artemis?”
“In his defence, I don’t let him handle anything. It’s a subsidiary of HERA & ARTEMIS so I might as well take things into my own hands and worry about it on my own.”
“Well, maybe you should let him figure his hand out at things. He doesn’t legally own Artemis for nothing.”
Jang Won turns to shoot a look of distaste at Juyeon.
“What?” He frowns, forehead creasing. “I’m literally telling you to split your workload.”
“I don’t need to split my workload. I’m doing fine on my own and frankly, I’d rather he sit back and let me do most of it so that at least I know what the Hell’s going on with my companies without worrying about any secrets.”
Juyeon rubs the back of his neck and shoves his hands into his pockets. “In other words, you don’t trust your brother.”
“Please,” She walks off first, heading for her office where she usually seeks refuge amongst her bottles of whiskey and bourbon and documents. “Just because I love him for being my brother doesn’t mean I should trust him with my finances.”
“You’re literally born into a family of fortune. Even if he does mess up, you’d be able to recover from it. The consequences would mean absolutely nothing to you.”
Jang Won pushes the heavy doors of her office open, admiring the late-morning sun that’s spilling all over her chair and her desk.
“See, that’s where you’re wrong, pretty boy. I choose not to rely on whatever I have at birth because I always felt like whatever my dad had was just handed to him,” She reaches for the ice bucket and picks up a ball of ice, dropping it into the whiskey glass, then coats most of its surface with bourbon. “But God forsake my hard work, huh? I guess if hard work really did pay off then I wouldn’t be standing here, in a wedding-lunch dress, talking to my husband.”
Juyeon raises both brows and throws himself into one of the sofa seats, the clinking of the whiskey decanter echoing ever so slightly throughout the office. “Ever heard of a holiday? You should go on one.”
She scoffs with exaggeration, the gentle swishing of the alcohol meeting the ice and the glass gleaming like liquid honey under the sunlight. “Yes, because I’m just like you, the one who would run away from the responsibilities he was born into whenever he doesn’t want them.”
“I’m sorry,” Juyeon grimaces, standing up and allowing the silvers of his suit glimmer as he walks into where the sunlight kisses the floor. “Which toe did I step on? I just pulled you out of a situation you would’ve otherwise not wanted to be in.”
“Unfortunately for you, I didn’t need pulling out. I could’ve handled myself right there and then. It’s been like that for as long as I can remember - I don’t need myself a nanny to save me,” Cocking one of her brows, she gives a wry laugh before downing the shot of whiskey.
Juyeon is in disbelief in her ability to perceive gratitude - or rather, a lack thereof.
“Maybe your father came back to save HERA & ARTEMIS from your terrible people’s skills, ever thought of that?”
“Wrong again, pretty boy!” She peels the glass off her lips and stares at the lipstick mark. “I’m perfect with the people I wanna be perfect with to get what I want, and when they are of no use to me, I’m well aware I treat them less than average.”
“There it is,” He sneers, stopping right before her as she finishes the last bit of her whiskey. “So, you’re a hypocrite.”
A smirk draws across her lips. Jang Won almost slams the glass back down in the tray of other glasses and the whiskey decanter. “And I’m proud of it. There’s nothing you can do about it, Lee Juyeon. You agreed to play this game my way and now that we’re wearing matching rings. I’m afraid you’ll have to deal with it.”
Jang Won squares up and jabs a finger into his shoulder. But Juyeon catches her wrist and holds it in place, causing her to grunt and attempt to writhe her way out, but to no avail.
“Kim Jang Won, you listen to me and you listen well. Just because I agreed to play this game by your rules, doesn’t mean I’m your puppet. We both know who will be the more powerful one in May, so my advice?” By now, Juyeon’s nose is almost in her eye. He’s not even bothering to look at her.
“Don’t offend me.”
Jang Won finally snatches her wrist out of his hold when she feels his grip loosen. Huffing, she stomps past him, shoulder bumping into his arm for good measure as she leaves the office.
Younghoon just about catches his sister rolling her eyes so hard, she was this close to hurling a string of vulgarities at the wooden of her office door. “Hey, what were you doing in your office? People are looking for you!”
Without a word, her eyes are locked with his in frustration.
“What?” He frowns.
She thinks for a moment.
She can ruin him and destroy him by asking him to take Artemis for himself before the deal is due in June. Ask him why he was so useless and had his little sister do everything for him, never once really fighting to take ownership of a company legally his.
“Nothing,” The brush-off is sharp and distinct as she waves him off, turning to walk into the main hall. “Go get yourself more sponsors before June, will you? I’m not sure the same people would want to keep in touch with HERA & ARTEMIS after the separation and collaboration is made official.”
Juyeon returns home later that evening, still wearing the fourth outfit of the day. It was a blue suit with a black collar and details and all he wants to do is soak himself in his bath. Maybe he could go to sleep safe and sound, and he’d wake up single and free to do whatever he actually wants to do.
He walks down the entrance corridor, sick of all the staged portraits of him and his family hung on the walls. The main hall comes into sight, past the stairs on his right, where the television was still broadcasting bits and pieces of his wedding earlier. In the million-dollar couch sat his father, eyes and ears attentive to the screen.
“Was it so entertaining that you have to watch it again? I know you were there this afternoon.”
His father turns his head subtly. Juyeon pulls off his blazer and removes his watch, laying the heavy clothing over his forearm as he scans the broadcast.
“The Lee-Kim wedding saw nothing short of nothing but a perfect list of investors, sponsors, fellow colleagues and leaders of several enterprises...”
He turns to look at his father, obviously still somewhat hurt that he hadn’t been officially invited by his son - Mr Ro had sent out mandatory invites to family members.
“It was a gorgeous wedding.”
“Yeah, well...” Juyeon shrugs lifelessly, already turning around to head for the stairs. “I had no say in it. It was her wedding and I don’t care, so.”
“The Board is expecting you to go on a Honeymoon, you have that in place, right?”
Juyeon gives a dry chuckle, already on the first step of the stairs. “Yeah, we’re going to Guatemala.”
“Guatemala?” His father shifts his attention from the television and looks at Juyeon, halfway up the stairs. “You’re just finding a chance to go diving in Belize, aren’t you?”
His son doesn’t falter, only continuing taking each step towards the second level, in hopes that he wouldn’t have to listen to his father criticise the only thing Jang Won let him do. At least it was some kind of freedom.
“Juyeon-”
“Mom better not be in my room.”
The second floor corridor greets him with even more portraits of his family, most of the pictures of him when he was younger. He halts right outside his door when he notices light seeping out from beneath.
Sighing with exasperation, he lays his hand on the door handle, readying himself to listen to his mother ramble. But his attention drifts from the cream-painted mahogany to the low cabinet next to him, the blue shade of the stingray shining under the hallway lights.
There was a ceramic statue of a standing coral frame with the stingray within the arc, and on it engraved ‘Hawaii 2018′. He smiles, remembering only fond memories of seeing a huge stingray while diving. Sunwoo had been dragged out by him - one of those times when he fought with his parents and couldn’t stand being in the same house as them. He covered travel cost and hospitality fees, ensuring Sunwoo’s parents (whose family was also on the smaller arm of The Board’s administration) that he’d take care of them.
Juyeon got an earful from his parents when he came back. Young Jin Seol had been the one to tell his parents his whereabouts, solely because he had arranged for her to make sure it seemed like he was still doing his job at the office. So, of course, when his parents walked into office and she was doing his work for him, they had threatened to fire her.
But Juyeon knew he was indebted, and told his parents, “No Jin Seol, then you can forget about me taking over Apple-Korea.”
Sucking a deep breath, Juyeon shakes himself out of his mental trance, and pushes the door open.
The back of his mother seems so fragile on first sight, and he’s well aware she’s getting on in her years. For a split second, he feels emotional, possibly feeling some tinge of remorse at how horrible of a son he’s been.
Then he remembers that she’s had an abundance of spa treatments, country-club lunches with her fellow rich moms after a game of gold or tennis, and a bunch of other things she definitely didn’t need. He wish he could tell himself otherwise, that she had been born into this life and thus living anything else dissimilar to this would be tiring on her.
But he can’t.
“I’m surprised you bothered to come home,” She says without looking at him. Juyeon rests his blazer on the back of the single sofa seat that’s angled to face the one she’s sitting in. “I was wondering if I should send some pajamas over to Hera’s Manor.”
Juyeon sits in the crystal encrusted sofa seat, crossing his legs and eyeing his mother fiddle with the wedding band on her finger. It reminds him of his own.
“You realise you’re the one who bound me to the Kim family, don’t you? You’re the one who said okay to marrying Kim Jang Won, not me.”
“It was for your own good.”
“For mine or for our family?” Juyeon leans back in his seat and interlocks his fingers, placing them in his lap. “What else do you really need from the Lee family that you simply cannot take your eyes off? Their money? HERA & ARTEMIS? What?”
Only now does Juyeon notice the cup of tea on the small coffee table infront of them.
“A child,” She says, like it was the most casual thought one could have, before taking a sip of tea. Her son shuts his eyes then opens them with his eyebrows as far up his forehead as he can.
Providing a dry, tortured chuckle, Juyeon blinks multiple times, wishing that it was a condition with his hearing and not just something his mother had just spat out.
“A what?” Juyeon pulls apart his hands and leans forward, fists now clenched and pressed into the cushion he was sitting in.
“You heard me,” She places the tea cup down and refuses to look at him. “A child would mean inheritance. The Lee family will inherit the wealth of the Kims and it could possibly start a new system. It could rewrite The Board. We could become The Board.”
“What the-” He finally stands, barely choking out some kind of laughter filled with confusion and utter disbelief. “You want a child just to bond our families together and take over The fucking Board? My God, why are you so obsessed with The Board?”
“Because The Board is everything! No board, no us, no wealth and comfort like the kind we raised you in-”
“Does it look like I wanted it?!” Juyeon runs his hands through his hair, pulling his hair back and stretching his hairline.
“You ingrate-”
“So I am an ingrate. But I had no choice, I have no life of my own because guess who’s making my decisions for me? You! If I don’t even have the ability to make my own choices then how do I even qualify as an ingrate?!”
She’s silent, and very much staring at the words spewing out of her son’s mouth now. She huffs through her flared nostrils, picking up the saucer and the tea cup and standing. “I don’t know what kind of ideas Kim Jang Won has planted in your head but you are still part of the Lee family and-”
“For Gods’ sake, Jang Won has nothing to do with any of this! In fact, she can’t care less about what I’m doing, so long as it doesn’t change the course of this entire situation. If anything, she’s playing it safe; she’s playing it against her father, and not us,” The veins on Juyeon’s hands are about to rip through his skin when he cannot close his fist any more. “Her father literally climbed out the grave... and you took this chance to capitalise on that in order to make our family richer the moment you heard of The Board’s announcement regarding HERA & ARTEMIS’s ownership complications...”
Juyeon shakes his head subtly, realising that he was panting from the sheer force of anger and disgust rushing through him.
“And she’s younger than me. Lost her mother, lost her father, who only comes back to take what she built? You know, for a woman under The Board, I’d think you’d understand what she’s gone through. I thought... I thought you would’ve known how hard it is to be the successful one in the family but cannot pass down the family name... but everytime I think the world of you, and I think you’d act a little more like the woman I thought you are... you prove me wrong.”
Juyeon glares down at her, hands holding the teacup in the saucer with some kind of disapproving, disappointed look of fury in her eyes. Then he sighs heavily, hands rushing to pick up his blazer and storms out the room before she can.
“Leave Kim Jang Won alone, or else I’ll refuse Apple-Korea. By then, you can forget about all your stupid green bills and diamond rings.”
And with that, he slams the door shut.
Juyeon appears along the second floor hallway, visible from the first floor’s living hall, where his father was still watching the news of his wedding earlier on in the day. Of course, the door slamming would’ve caught his attention, so when his son rushes down the stairs while putting his blazer back on, the elder man removes himself off the couch.
“Juyeon! Where are you going?!”
“Don’t call me, and don’t even think of calling Hera’s Manor,” He opens the heavy front door with such determination, then slams it harder than he intends to. By the foot of the stairs leading down to the pick up point by the entrance, his two bodyguards are taken aback and flustered when Juyeon appears again.
“Uh, can I get Mr Bong around-”
The instruction through the guard’s earpiece is cut short and interrupted abruptly as Juyeon unplugs the earpiece from the transmitter.
“Mr Lee-”
Juyeon doesn’t hesitate to do the same with the other guard. By now, his father has gotten the front door open and yelling at him with disapproving scolds.
Rushing around the hood of the Porsche, Juyeon steps into the drivers’ seat - an unlikely sight, since he’s been chauffeured around most of the time.
“What in the world are you two doing? Stop him from leaving!”
The vehicle revs to life, and Juyeon fumbles under the passenger seat’s compartment box and every crook and cranny in the front of the car.
“Juyeon!”
He winds up the window on the driver’s side and locks the entire vehicle just as his father reaches the window. He tugs on the handle angrily, almost able to shake the entire car with his aggression.
“Juyeon, don’t you dare!”
Then, he finds it. A tracking device attached to all the cars his family owns.
Ripping it off the surface it was stuck into, he rolls down the window on the passenger’s side and hurls it out, straight into the arms of one of the bodyguards.
“Juyeon!”
He starts up the car and pulls it into drive, forcing his father to back off as he moves off.
#multifandomnet#juyeon fanfic#juyeon imagines#juyeon scenario#juyeon#lee juyeon#the boyz juyeon#tbz juyeon#the boyz fanfic#the boyz imagines#the boyz scenarios#tbz#the boyz#love me a little less
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ONEUS When They Accidentally Say Something That Hurts Their S/O
Summary: How would ONEUS react when they realize they accidentally said something hurtful to their S/O?
Word Count: 1,800 words
Pairing: Reader x Members / Characters: GenderNeutral!Reader; Kim Youngjo (Ravn); Lee Seoho (Seoho); Kim Geonhak (Leedo); Lee Keonhee (Keonhee); Yeo Hwanwoong (Hwanwoong); Son Dongju (Xion);
Rated: E / Warnings: Very slight weight mention (Keonhee's) / Genre: Very slight angst; Fluff;
《 ONEUS Masterlist 》
Kim Youngjo (Ravn)
He would catch himself and apologize immediately. He would do everything in his power to keep you from leaving--he doesn't want you to be apart and leave an argument unresolved. And he'd beat himself up for hurting you.
You had entered the studio and spotted your boyfriend, Youngjo, hunched over the table with a headset over his ears, still hard at work. He was absolutely oblivious to the fact that it's almost midnight.
When you had asked him to come home with you, he had agreed. But you had mentioned that he hadn't been home all day, and said that he needed to take care of himself and that he's been neglecting himself, and he got upset.
"You wouldn't understand, you aren't an idol," he snaps. You freeze, and feel your shoulders sag and your heart drop.
Youngjo must see your face drop, because before you can turn back to the door to leave, he has his arms around you, hugging you, holding you tightly.
"I'm sorry, baby, I shouldn't have said that. That was unfair to say," he says. You don't respond, and he continues. "Please, don't go. That wasn't fair. I'm sorry, baby."
He pulls away and cups your face to look at you. "Baby, are you okay? Please say something."
You inhale. "That was mean," you say finally. He exhales, relieved that you've responded, and nods.
"Yes, it was. I'm a bad boyfriend," he says. "Let me apologize. I'll take a day off tomorrow, okay? Tomorrow, it's just me and you, okay?"
You sniff. "You don't have to. I just want you to take care of yourself."
"I want to," he says. "Let's go home, baby."
Lee Seoho (Seoho)
Seoho would have to be really tired or upset to say something hurtful to you, as he's usually very careful with his words. But he knows that whatever he said was not justified. The moment he realizes what he said, he'd apologize.
"Seoho," you call out when you arrive home. You kick off your shoes and head to the bedroom, where Seoho should be--his practice ends before your work. You two had planned to go out grocery shopping today.
"Seoho? Are you upstairs?" you ask as you climb up the stairs to the bedroom. There's no response, that came to my texts and didn't want me in my life I just wanted to be able and not just be you continue up. You note that the door is open, and peek into your bedroom to see Seoho on the bed, phone in hand. His eyes are trained on his phone, and he doesn't seem to even notice your presence.
"There you are," you murmur. He still doesn't respond, and you realize he has his earbuds in. You walk over in front of him and wave at him until he sees you and removes one earbud.
"Oh, Y/N," he says, blinking up at you. "You're home."
You nod. "Yup. I was calling for you. We should go grocery shopping before the sun's down, so we can have time to make dinner."
Seoho sighs, and mutters to himself, "Annoying."
You stare at him. "What? Excuse me? I'm annoying?"
He frowns at you, looking confused for a second before his eyes widen. "Wait, no, I didn't mean it like that. Let me explain."
He takes your hand and pulls you to sit next to him on the bed. You frown at him, but wait for him to explain.
"I was just. Exhausted from work. I meant that going out and being busy was annoying. God, Y/N, I'm sorry, that came out wrong," he says.
"No no, it's alright," you say, ruffling his hair, and he smiles sweetly at you. "Maybe I can go shopping for us?"
He shakes his head. "Stay with me."
"Mmkay. We can just order takeout today instead? And get groceries tomorrow?"
He nods, and you smile, pressing a kiss to his temple.
Kim Geonhak (Leedo)
Right away, Geonhak would realize he went too far. He'd stop right away and apologize profusely. He'd know that he needs a bit of space or a short break to breathe, before apologizing and talking with you.
"Geonhak, you can't not respond to my texts or anything and expect me to have made dinner for two ready," you say. "You've been missing dinner for the past week and have been eating it at , and when I asked if you wanted me to make dinner for us both tonight
"You wouldn't get it," Geonhak says dismissively. "You aren't an idol, we have schedules and practice. I couldn't find the time. But of course you wouldn't get it. I just don't have the time."
You pause, absorbing his words. "You didn't have the time at all today to text me, is that it?" you ask, eyes tearing up. "Alright. Well, I'll make sure to make lunch again."
You can see Geonhak's face change. His eyes widen in shock, and he reaches out to grab your hands before you can turn away.
"Y/N, I didn't mean it like that," he says. "I just had a really stressful day. That was wrong of me to say, I'm so sorry Y/N. Let me just. Take a breath in the next room for a minute, okay? I'll be right back, I need a second."
You nod, and he exits the room. You're used to this. Not him accidentally saying something hurtful, but him often getting too worked up and having to take a breath. But after that, it always works out.
When he returns, he apologizes again for what he said. And then, he explains that he did lose track of time, due to a surprise interview and loads of practice. You two talk it over much calmer this time, and he apologizes again for what he said.
Lee Keonhee (Keonhee)
Keonhee would never say anything mean about you, but he might say something a little harsher than intended, or maybe with a bad tone. But the moment that he realizes what he said, he would instantly stop and apologize profusely. He'd beat himself up about hurting you like that.
You're curled up on your bed with your head on your boyfriend Keonhee's chest.
"Keonhee," you say, and he hums in acknowledgement. "Keonhee, I'm gonna go get some snacks, okay?"
He nods, and you push yourself up off of him, your hand pressed against his chest, and he lets out a loud groan.
"Ohhh gosh, you're heavy, Y/N," he says.
You feel a feeling of embarrassment wash over you and mumble a quick "Oh, sorry," as you remove your hands from his chest quickly.
"Ah, wait baby!" Keonhee grabs your hand quickly before you can go. He sits up and moves so he can sit in front of you. "I didn't mean your weight. You just, you pressed down on my chest really abruptly and it felt heavy."
You tilt your head, sort of understanding him. But not quite. Thankfully, he continues.
"I should have said 'ow, you pressed down on my chest really hard,'" he says, clutching at his chest to demonstrate what he should have done. You laugh a bit at his silliness, but resume your pouting. He takes your hands and presses a kiss to your knuckles. "I'm sorry, baby, I misspoke. Bad boyfriend, bad Keonhee. I'm so sorry, baby."
"It's okay, Keonhee," you say. "Only if you get snacks instead of me."
"Deal." He presses another kiss to your knuckles. "Love you baby."
Yeo Hwanwoong (Hwanwoong)
Hwanwoong doesn't always watch his words carefully, so feelings might get hurt on accident at times. But once he sees that something hurt you, he'd stop himself and apologize.
"Oh my gosh, there’s is a little harsher and I'm really looking for something that can help me get my own stuff done and then I can an audition for a small dance group!" you say, pausing your scrolling through your social media at the sight of an advertisement. You look at your boyfriend who sits on the other end of the couch. "Woong, should I audition."
"Oh no, Y/N," Hwayoung says, shaking his head. You pause, and nod slightly. You know he doesn't mean it in a hurtful way--you don't usually dance--but you've always been itnterested in it, even before you met him, and you'd hoped that joining a group would be a start.
"Yeah. Maybe you're right . . ." you say, and you see Hwanwoong look up in surprise.
"I didn't mean it like that, Y/N, I'm so sorry it came out like that. I just meant you don't have the practice yet," he says, standing up. He walks over and takes your hands, kneeling in front of you. "When's the audition? I can help you practice before then. How does that sound?"
You nod, looking at him kneeling with his face inches from yours, and you feel the corners your lips lift. "Sounds great, Woong."
"Perfect, when is it?" he asks. You look at the date.
"Two weeks."
"Oh, that's plenty of time! I'm sure you could be better than me by then!" He pokes your nose and you laugh a bit.
"Thank you, Woong."
Son Dongju (Xion)
Dongju doesn't usually say mean things. but if a disagreement gets really bad, or if he gets really mad, he might get more easily caught up in his emotions or annoying and unintentionally raise his voice.
"Y/Nie," Dongju asks from the kitchen, and you look up from your spot on the couch.
"Yes DoongDoongie?" you ask.
"Did you see a bag of chips in the cupboard?"
"Oh yeah, I did," you say, worriedly. "Was that yours? I'm sorry," you say apologetically. "
He sighs. "Y/N," he grumbles to himself as he walks over and plops down on the other end of the couch from you. He pulls out his phone and starts scrolling, obviously fuming.
"Sorry, Dongju. Do you want me to go buy you some?"
"It's fine."
He shakes his head, "It's fine."
"Dongju--"
"Y/N, it's fine," he says. Not quite yelling, but his voice is definitely raised. You shrink into yourself.
"Alright," you say quietly.
"Y/N, sorry," he grabs your hand. "That was wrong. I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to come out like that."
You nod, not meeting his eyes. "It's okay. It's my fault."
"No, no. I shouldn't have raised my voice." He squeezes your hand. "Y/N, can you look at me?"
You look up at him, and see he's pouting at you.
"Baby, I'm sorry. I really am. Forgive me?"
You nod, humming gently. "I forgive you. Do you want me to buy you more chips?"
He thinks for a second. "Let's go together, okay baby?"
You smile. "Alright."
#kdiarynet#oneuswewriters#oneus#ravn#seoho#leedo#keonhee#hwanwoong#xion#oneus fanfic#oneus fanfiction#fanfic#fanfiction#myfic#ravn fanfic#ravn fanfiction#seoho fanfiction#seoho fanfic#leedo fanfic#leedo fanfiction#keonhee fanfic#keonhee fanfiction#hwanwoong fanfic#hwanwoong fanfiction#xion fanfiction#xion fanfic
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Revealed
Inspired by an ask sent to @lenoreofraven
Revealed
Marinette tried to duck away from the Akuma. Rose had been made aware of Lila’s lies and became an ample target for Hawkmoth. Revealler shot beams of light that forced her target to spill out the complete truth, their deepest secrets that they would not share with anyone.
Marinette bit back a cough, as Lila finished spilling about how she had lied to everyone and how she threatened anyone who got in her way. Revealler turned her gaze on Marinette.
“Marinette!” Exclaimed Revealler, skipping toward the girl, “How does it feel to know your friends discarded you for a Liar?”
Marinette glared up at the Akuma, making Revealler sigh.
“I didn’t want to do this.” Whined Revealler, waving her hand.
A gold light appeared in Marinette’s eyes and Revealler grinned.
“So, how does it feel?” Questioned the Akuma, smiling down at Marinette.
“It hurt,” Said Marinette, her voice monotone, “I’ve known some of them for years and they sided with Lila.”
Alya winced, knowing that she owed Marinette a big apology when this was over.
“But it doesn’t matter.” Said Marinette, making the Akuma tilt her head.
“And why is that?” Asked Revealler, forcing Marinette to answer.
“I’m dying.” Said Marinette, her eyes welling up, “I was diagnosed with Late-Stage Leukaemia a few weeks ago and my chances of survival are slim.”
Revealler scowled, “Y-your lying!”
The light grew brighter, forcing Marinette to speak again, “I was diagnosed with late-stage leukaemia a few weeks ago and my chances of survival are slim.”
Marinette suddenly gagged, before coughing up bile with blood mixed into it. Revealler slowly lowered her hand, tears starting to run down her face.
“No, no, no, no, no!” Screamed Revealler, grabbing her head, “Lila was supposed to be exposed and humiliated for what’s she’s done, you weren’t the one supposed to be punished!”
“I’m not being punished, Rose,” Said Marinette, dropping herself to the floor, “Everyone is given a hand at their birth, some of us have poorer hand than others.”
Revealler curled into a ball and started to rock herself back and forth. Marinette reached over and picked up the akumatized item, a picture of Rose and Prince Ali, and reluctantly tore it in half, releasing the Akuma. Rose grabbed into Marinette’s arm and clung to her, her crying being harder. Marinette idly watched as the Akuma flew off, phasing through the window.
Adrien watched as Rose continued to break down. The day became a blur, and the next thing Adrien knew, he was sitting in front of the piano in his room, mindlessly pressing the keys. He heard his bedroom door open and his father walk in, Nathalie not far behind.
“Adrien, you’ve been playing off key for the past two hours,” Said his father, his tone cold, “If you don’t improve, I may have to cut short the time you spend with your frie-”
“Marinette has cancer.” Adrien interrupted, tears starting to run down his face, “T-there was an Akuma that forced people to tell the truth, a-and when Marinette was hit, she told everyone she had l-leu-leukaemia!”
With the last word, Adrien dissolved into tears, Gabriel stood awkwardly, staring at his sons shaking shoulders.
“Adrien, she could still be in the early stages,” Said Nathalie, walking past Gabriel, “she could still undergo treatment.”
“M-Marinette said she only found out when it was already at a late stage,” Sobbed Adrien, “She keeps saying she’s fine, but it’s like when mother went!”
Gabriel froze, he had never once thought on how his mother’s condition would affect him. The last time he had seen his mother, she was propped up in a bed, skinny and gaunt, too weak to walk. As if she had cancer.
Gabriel then did something he had not done in years, he walked over to Adrien and cradled him. Nathalie quietly left the room, silently cancelling all meetings and appointments for the coming week.
R
Lila tried not to flinch as her mother yelled, after she had spilt everything, she’d been removed from class and placed in a separate classroom so she could catch up her work. Lila had tried to protest, but a stern, angry glare from her mother made her duck her head down and do the work.
Lila had her phone, laptop and tablet confiscated until she’d learned the impact of her actions. Marinette, of all people, suggested that someone help her catch up, as if Lila threatening her was not a big deal.
Max, as he put it, drew the short straw. He helped her work out problems, but his voice was cold, and his tone was sharp. Lila took a deep breath in and looked down at the page, staring at it as tear drops landed on the paper.
R
“There’s got to be something!” Gasped Rose, her eyes wide.
“Rose, you’re a sweet girl, naïve sometimes,” Said Ali, “But, I don’t think we’d be able to find a cure for cancer in a couple of weeks.”
Rose nervously chewed her bottom lip.
“The most I can suggest is that you make sure her last days are comfortable.” Said Ali, as Rose let out a small sniffle.
R
Chloe sat curled up on her bed, curiosity had gotten the better of her and she’d looked up leukaemia and read about the various stages, signs and the survival chances. It was only with hindsight that Chloe noticed all the signs, the fatigue, weight loss, her lack of appetite, how she’d taken to wearing a hat. Chloe then read about how it all typically ended. Chloe never wanted to admit it, but Marinette was a bright spot in the class, to learn she’d be reduced to a mere husk of herself was devastating.
Chloe dreaded when her mother found out.
R
Marinette nervously chewed on her bottom lip as the parents paced around the living room. They seemed to take Marinette spilling her condition well, then they started pacing and hadn’t said anything since.
Her mother suddenly sat next to her and pulled her into her arms and stroking her hair. Marinette relaxed slightly at the sound of her mother’s heartbeat. Before she noticed her mother was shaking. Marinette leaned back and saw her mother holding a clump of hair, Marinette’s hair.
Marinette swallowed the lump forming in her throat and buried her face in her mother’s arms.
R
Adrien’s leg bounced, quietly waiting for his classmates to arrive. Chloe had called him late last night and told him the effects of late-stage leukaemia. Marinette had been wasting away before their eyes and they didn’t notice a thing. He also found that, since it was late stage, Marinette could die any day now. The classroom door opened, admitting half of the class, the other half arrived within a few minutes and now everyone was waiting for Marinette.
Ms. Bustier entered the room, quietly closing the door behind her.
“Marinette’s been admitted to hospital,” Said Ms. Bustier, quietly, “Her parent said you could visit her after school.”
Adrien suddenly had a lump in his throat, not knowing how to process the information.
R
Marinette hated the nurses, they were dismissive, arrogant and so full of their own self-importance. They seemed to have a game they called humiliating the patients, Marinette had to beg them to clean her after she lost control of her bladder and bowels, they’d just laughed, at least until a doctor caught sight of them.
Dr. Bates had her own team take over tending to the cancer ward, Marinette found Dr. Bates to be enjoyable company. Marinette had been in the ward a couple of weeks and every day, around noon, Dr. Bates would read a poem to them from one of the many books in the hospital. Each day, Marinette felt herself getting weaker, two days ago, she’d begged her parents to come up, she didn’t want to be alone when she went.
Marinette felt her mother’s hand on her, the only sound she could hear was her own breathing, it was getting harder to breath. Marinette was going to close her eyes for a minute.
R
Ms. Bustier quietly made her way into the classroom, her eyes were red.
“Marinette’s parents just phoned.” Said Ms. Bustier, before taking a shuddering breath, “Marinette died in hospital yesterday, she was surrounded by her family.”
Adrien could’ve sworn he heard a buzzing noise for the rest of the day, over half the class had gone home at lunch, Alya and Nino included. Alix, Kim, Max, Adrien, Chloe and Lila were the only ones still in lesson. Alix, Adrien and Max had made the promise to take notes so everyone could catch up. Kim and Lila had to catch up their work. No one knew why Chloe opted to stay. Lila had gone quiet over the past few weeks, Adrien thought it was because how Lila’s lies had finally bitten her. Adrien felt Plagg shift in his pocket, making him look down. Adrien’s bag was fuller than he remembered, until a red, spotted kwami poked her head out and looked up at him. Adrien quickly asked to excuse himself to the toilet.
“Tikki!” Said Adrien, as soon as he entered the toilet, “It’s great you’re here, listen, a friend of mine died-”
“Marinette.” Tikki cut him off, “I can’t help her.”
“Why?!” Asked Adrien, desperation seeping into his voice, “I don’t know what happened to Ladybug, you could convince her-”
“I can’t.” Said Tikki, her antennae drooping.
“Why not?” Demanded Adrien, “Ladybug likes Marinette, she has called her a great help multiple times.”
“Because what happened to Marinette… happened to Ladybug.” Whispered Tikki, looking down.
“W-what?” Whimpered Adrien, not liking how the course the conversation had taken.
“Marinette was Ladybug,” Admitted Tikki, shuddering, “and what happened, was because of me.”
Adrien didn’t trust his voice.
“C-cancer is a mutation of the cells in a living being,” Said Tikki, “w-when I first created it, I thought I was helping humans evolve, I-I never thought it’d become something so horrible.”
“S-so there’s nothing we can do?” Asked Adrien, sliding down to the floor.
That’s how Max found Adrien, curled up on the floor and sobbing. Adrien was sent home, where he curled up under the covers of his bed, the Album cover that Marinette signed pressed against his chest. Adrien heard his father enter his room and sit on Adrien’s bed.
“Adrien, are you alright?” Asked Gabriel, gently grabbing Adrien’s shoulder, “Do you want to talk?”
Adrien was silent, before taking a deep breath and pulled Plagg out from his hiding place, his father’s face was unreadable as Adrien explained who and what Plagg was and how he met him. Gabriel stiffened as Adrien told him about how Ladybug and Marinette were the same person and how the Ladybug Miraculous triggered the condition that took her life.
“The two Miraculous can grant any wish, Adrien.” Said Gabriel, making Adrien freeze, “I wanted them initially to bring your mother back, but I think it’s time to let the past go.”
Gabriel looked down at Plagg and Tikki, “Tell me, what would the price be if I asked for the girl back?”
Plagg and Tikki looked at each other, before looking up at Gabriel.
#miraculous ladybug#marinette dupain cheng#adrien agreste#alya cesaire#nino lahiffe#rose lavillant#juleka couffaine#ivan bruel#mylene haprele#chloe bourgeois#lila rossi#Tikki#plagg#nathaniel kurtzberg#nathalie sancoeur#gabriel agreste#delta writes#revealed#tw; death#tw; cancer mention#sabrina raincomprix#alix kubdel#max kante#le chien kim#sabine cheng#tom dupain
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ok anyway build-a-bear employee!jin who meets y/n bc she comes in to make a new friend after a breakup and he teases her for being an adult by herself in the store and after she starts tEARING UP he’s like okok no!!!! and helps her make the cutest lil guy and records a cute message to put inside
➺ pairing; kim seokjin x reader
➺ genre; employee!jin, i brought you to build-a-bear so obviously this is going to be very floofy (sfw!!)
➺ wordcount: 4k
➺ what to expect; “…turning twenty-two soon and you’re buying yourself a teddy bear?”
➺ note; when i told u guys that jin always gets the cutest drabble requests i wasn’t LYING!!! i have my own bear from build-a-bear named blu (he’s dark blue with white stars!! at the age of eight i was not very good at coming up with creative names) so obviously i had to write something for him and his homies
»»————- 🧸————-««
jin has a love-hate relationship with his job
you would think that working at build-a-bear would be pretty fun - and it can be, sometimes! - but jin can confirm right here right now that it’s not aLL that great
on one hand, he loves the dramatics of build-a-bear because he’s given the chance to act like the whole store is whimsical and that the tiny little heart that he stuffs inside of the bear is full of magic and hope and happiness (he majored in acting in university so his degree is surprisingly very useful here)
but on the other hand… he works at build-a-bear.
this isn’t where he thought he’d be!!! not at all!!!
he’s basically almost thirty and he works at a frickin build-a-bear
this wasn’t part of his plan!!!
his plan was to graduate from university, get famous from acting in a small commercial because of his devilishly handsome face, and then immediately get signed onto some fancy hollywood acting deal and become internationally known
but, no!
he graduated from university, didn’t get any roles in any small commercials, and had to find a way to make money so had no choice but to find work at his local mall
and to make things worse, his boss is literally five years younger than him
he has this bratty little twenty-two year old constantly up his ass and he haTES it
“you forgot the whipped cream on my frappuccino.” jungkook looks up at jin from where he’s sitting behind the counter before raising his drink, “am i blind or are you just bad at listening to instructions? where is the whipped cream, seokjin? WHERE?”
jin clenches his jaw before leaning forward, “they were busy, i guess they just forgot. and i’m not your slave. i only got you that drink so you’d give me a day off tomorrow.”
“well, since there’s no whipped cream on it, you don’t get a day off.” jungkook kisses his teeth before shrugging
“wha-“ jin resists the urge to reach down and wrap his hands around jungkook’s neck, “are you kidding me right now?? i spent forty-five minutes out of my fifty minute lunch break lining up at starbucks to get that for you! forty-five minutes!!!”
“i don’t know what to tell you,” jungkook hums as he kicks his legs up onto the counter and leans back against his chair, “now get back to work. and remember to smile! after all, build-a-bear is where best friends are made-“
“the new slogan is ‘the most fun you’ll ever make’.” jin raises a brow, “you don’t even know our slogan! how did you become the manager?”
jungkook takes a slow sip of his drink while maintaining direct eye contact with jin
sChLuuUuRrRRRr
jesus christ
his life sucks
jin rolls his eyes before turning on his heel and heading back to the main area of the shop
today’s saturday, so the store is a little busier than it usually is - which is great, because jin works off commission and he thinks he’s pretty good at selling teddy bears
on his best day he managed to sell thirty-eight bears in one day
he also convinced most of the kids that their brand new furry friends needed new clothes and a personalised recorded message in place of the usual little red cloth heart
he doesn’t like looking at the parents whenever he’s egging their kids on to buy even more things because they always look at him like they’re going to kill him
anyways
he could’ve ordered like forty frappuccino’s from the money he made on that day
before he left for lunch today he sold eight which really isn’t that impressive
but, to be fair, the mall usually gets busy after lunch, so now is the prime time to make some sales
jin lets out a breath as he scans the store for any newcomers or anyone who’s noT already being bombarded by his co-workers
he can’t help but snicker to himself when he notices yoongi at the stuffing station conducting a heart ceremony
“-and now you can go ahead and give your heart a little kiss-“
he looks up for a split second and jin takes the chance to blows a sweet little kiss at him
he snorts to himself when yoongi’s eye twitches
yoongi hates giving heart ceremonies but he’s actually pretty good at it!
he’s good with children whether he wants to admit it or not
alright, enough making fun of yoongi >:-)
time to hunt down a new customer…
jin sucks his bottom lip into his mouth as he walks around the store slowly
ooh, a little boy and his family just walked i- aaand they’ve been swept up by jimin
okay, no problem!
how about those twin gir- nope, too late, taehyung’s approaching them
damn
that would’ve been a good sale, too
it’s fine
he’ll get someone!
oh, wow
build-a-bear has really upped their game since the last time you were here
to be fair, the last time you were here was like more than ten years ago, so you’d hope that they make some changes to the store
…are those star wars themed teddy bears??
that is most definitely a princess leia teddy bear
and she even gets her own little light sabre!
wow
this is a whole new world
“excuse me, sorry…” you manoeuvre your way through the crowd as you continue looking through your options
is it weird that you’re in here by yourself?
the thought of trailing behind a random child in order to blend in with everyone else crosses your mind for a split second
although… a grown woman creeping behind a child they don’t know probably isn’t going to sound good to the judge when you’re standing in court, so maybe you shouldn’t do that
okay
you know what
it’s fine
it’s totally fine that you’re in here by yourself!
stuffed plushies are for people of all ages!!
it’s not just a kiddie thing
you’re FINE
and you have a perfectly legitimate reason to be in here
the only reason why you’re even in here is because…
well, the short and sweet version is that you got dumped two weeks ago.
which means that you’ve been cooped up in your apartment for the last fourteen days
which means your bedroom was starting to smell a little ripe so you thought it’d be good to air out the place and give your poor bed a break
(also, please, for the love of god, remember to wash your sheets when you get back home later today.)
anyways
you thought that a trip to the mall for some retail therapy would make you feel better!
so far you’ve only been the food court but you helped yourself to a cheeseburger, some onion rings, and a vanilla milkshake
food always makes you feel better
you could honestly go for another round of onion rings right now
there’s nothing quite like the pain of having your heart broken nudge you towards the direction of binge-eating the pain away, is there?
you were about to head into a victoria’s secret to splurge on pretty panties (that no one but yourself will be seeing for a long time) but this build-a-bear caught your eye
a cuddle buddy you could ugly-cry into for the simple price of $35?
obviOUSLY you had to come in
the only issue now is that there are way too many options to choose from
who do you want to take home??
pawlette the bunny?
toothless from how to train your dragon?
you could even take pikachu home if you wanted to
“timeless teddy…” you mutter to yourself as you dig out a teddy bear skin (also, it’s very unsettling that they’re called ‘skins’. like, you know that’s what they technically are, but the phrase ‘i’ve picked out my skin!’ just makes your skin crawl.)
you lean forward a little to read the label on the wall
teddy bears are a timeless way to share love with every hug! timeless teddy is a classic teddy bear with shaggy brown fur and an adorable smile. personalize this classic teddy bear with outfits, sounds and accessories for a huggable gift they'll cherish forever!
hm
perfect!
a classic teddy bear sounds perfect
there’s nothing wrong with going back to basics
also, you’re assuming the ‘they’ll’ they’re referring to here is a child
…
nO
you are doing this
you will buy this teddy bear!
your other option was to go and adopt a cat from the shelter but you can barely take care of yourself right now so that wouldn’t be a good idea
“hello!” you jump three feet into the air when you’re suddenly being greeted by one of the bright-eyed workers, “can i help you find anything?”
you turn around quickly while clutching your teddy’s skin (gag) to your chest with wide eyes, “h-hello!”
oh
hello indeed
you feel your heart drop a little when you realise that you probably look disgusting right now
you weren’t expecting to bump into a veRY attractive super handsome boy today!!!
very attractive super handsome boy with sweet brown eyes and soft-looking hair and the poutiest lips you think you’ve ever seen in your entire life-
thank god you decided to wear the sweatshirt that doesn’t have any stains on it, right?
the one thing you remember from your previous build a bear experience (once again, 10+ years ago) is that the workers here are usually overly perky sixteen year old girls
this guy is not an overly perky sixteen year old girl
well
maybe he’s the perky part
but everything else??
wowie
he smiles brightly at you before tilting his head, “hello. i’m jin!” he points at his name tag, “i’d love to help you out today. were you looking for anything in particular?”
“hi! hello, jin. i’m, um, i’m y/n. i was, uh-“ you clear your throat, “i was actually just browsing, so…”
“oh, perfect!” jin claps his hands together, “let me tell you all about our collections. there’s the summer fun collection, the rainbow friends, the promise pets, the heartables, the classic build-a-bear collection-“
yeah okay
he’s definitely nailed the perky part of the job
“-DC comics, dr. suess, marvel, my little pony, how to train your drag-“
“you know, i-“ you smile sheepishly after interrupting jin, “thank you so much, but i’ve actually already made my decision, if that’s alright.” you hold your teddy’s limp, hollow carcass up before pressing your lips together
“of course that’s alright!” jin takes the skin from you before shrugging lightly, “i figured i’d just let you know of all the other options in case your younger sibling wanted something more extravagant than just our timeless teddy. follow me to the sound station!”
you don’t get a chance to say anything before jin spins around swiftly to head to the back of the store
he thinks this bear is for your younger sibling
okay, you can work with that!
you can pretend like you’re in here for your non-existent younger sibling and certainly not for yourself
“you can choose a pre-made sound from here,” jin gestures to the bins of plastic hearts (there’s a sound option for an ‘into the unknown’ snippet from frozen 2 which is insane), “or we can go ahead and record a personalised message. what’s your sibling’s name?”
you look up at him immediately
“wha- um, why… why do you need to know my sibling’s name?”
“oh! i was just asking so i could give you an example.” jin hums as he tosses the skin over his shoulder and places his hands on his hips, “like, you could say, hey there… sibling’s name, it’s me, your big sister! i love you! or something like that.”
“ah, right!” you nod to yourself, “that makes sense! my sibling’s name is totally normal information that i have no problem giving to you.”
jin raises a brow when he notices you continuing to ramble about how your sibling’s name is something that you will be telling him soon because you definitely know the name of your younger sibling whomst’ve this bear is for
hm
you’re cute but you’re a little odd
“-my younger sibling’s name is… paulette!” you catch a glimpse of a pink pawlette bunny being stuffed before looking back over at jin, “yep. that’s her name. sweet, sweet paulette. sweet little angel.”
“hey, our iconic bunny is named pawlette!” jin beams, “wouldn’t you want to get paulette her own pawlette? instead of a bear?”
the smile immediately drops from your face
oh god
you’ve never been very good at lying
one time in middle school when you wanted to get out of PE you told the teacher that you were in pain and that’s why you couldn’t do anything on that day
and when he asked you what hurt, all you said was ‘…bleeding out of my butt?’
you don’t even know why you said that!!
you could’ve told him you had a headache or something but nO
you told your teacher your asshole was BLEEDING and that’s why you couldn’t participate in baseball
so yeah
lying has never been your forte
but you don’t want pawlette!!
you want this bear!!!
although, it would make sense to get paulette her own pawlette because that’d be an adorable coincidence…
what are you-
what are you even sAYING
PAULETTE DOES NOT EXIST
“okay, you got me!” you raise your hands in defence and jin’s eyes widen in surprise, “paulette isn’t a real person. i don’t have a younger sibling. i’m in here for me. the bear is for me. the timeless teddy is mine.”
“oh…!” jin purses his lips before nodding slowly, “alright! totally get it. the bear is for you.”
why has everyone he’s ever been attracted to turned out to be a little cuckoo?
the expected demographic of build-a-bear are children aged 3-10 (a child aged below three isn’t interested in stuffed teddies because they don’t really do anything but sit there and a child aged over ten isn’t interested in stuffed teddies because… they don’t really do anything but sit there.)
and you… well, unless you’ve experienced some kind of insane growth spurt, you certainly don’t look like someone aged 3-10 years old
“phew! it feels good getting that off my chest.” you breathe out as you lean over and place your hands on your knees, “there was a lot of pressure there to keep lying to you but-“
“how, um, how old are you, by the way?”
jin doesn’t mean to sound like a judgy bitch
he’s just genuinely curious as to why a 21-23 year old would willingly go into a physical build-a-bear store to buy themselves a stuffed plushie
you could’ve purchased one off the online website
also, aren’t there better things to spend your money on?
like… literally anything besides a stuffed plushie??
“turning twenty-two soon!” you get back up onto your feet, “why do you ask?”
“…turning twenty-two soon and you’re buying yourself a teddy bear?” jin snorts before raising a brow, “i mean, really? didn’t you graduate this year?”
“ah, well…” you reach up to scratch the back of your neck as you feel the tips of your ears beginning to heat up, “i mean, yeah, but like…”
“i’m not judging! some people go on grad trips to party and get wasted after they graduate, and other people go to the mall to build themselves a $35 teddy bear-“ jin laughs to himself before turning around to plop the skin down on little counter attached to the stuffing machine, “anyways, were you thinking about choosing a sound or recording something?”
he spins back around and his eyes widen when he notices that your eyes have gotten red and are starting to water
oh
uh oh
what’s going on?
what’s happening??
are you…
are you crying??
why are you crying??
he was totally kidding!!!
that wasn’t supposed to be mean!!
that was supposed to be playful banter!!!
“oh- oh, god no- wait-“ jin immediately walks over so that he’s standing in front of you and jungkook won’T be able to see that he just upset a customer, “don’t cry!! i was kidding!! i have, like, ten plushies on my bed! i’m twenty-seven and i work at a build-a-bear, if anything, i should be the one crying-”
“i just-“ you reach up to wipe at your eyes as you begin to blubber, “my boyfriend of one year b-broke up with me two weeks ago and i- i just th-thought that a teddy bear would make good company because god knows i’m not in the right mental state to be taking care of a real animal-!”
jin winces when you let out a particularly loud sob and he quickly drags you over so that the two of you are behind the stuffing machine and out of sighT from everyone
crap
he doesn’t even have any tissues on him!!!!
maybe he can pull some fluff out from the machine and you can dab at your tears with that
actually, the cotton might stick to your cheeks if you try wiping your tears away with a fistful of stuffing, so maybe not
“i-i know it’s stupid and humiliating for a grown-up to be in here buying a stupid teddy bear for herself but there’s so much in my life that’s just out of my control right now a-and making this teddy bear seemed like the only thing i could control and i just-“
“y-yes, of course!” jin pulls you into a tight hug (your sobbing is getting a little loud and people are starting to notice so this is the only way he can think to muffle your crying) and strokes the back of your head comfortingly, “i’m so sorry, i had no idea! that makes total sense, of course you can get this teddy bear for yourself…”
he continues to hold you until your sobs reduce to little hiccups and gives a warning look when yoongi mouths whether or not they should call mall security on your ass
when you pull away your eyes are a little puffy and the tip of your nose is red
if jungkook asks, maybe jin can get away with saying that your allergies acted up in the middle of the store
you don’t look like that because he made you burst into tears
not at all!!
“how about we… record a special message for your new friend?” jin digs through the tub to pull out an electronic heart
“i-“ you hiccup, “i don’t really h-have anything i want to say…”
jin purses his lips in thought
hm
stuffing the bear with a heartbeat heart seems way too basic
this is an important bear!
ah!
“why don’t you let me take care of it, okay?” he reaches over and rubs your shoulder gently, “you wait here and i’ll take care of everything. for his stuffing, would you like a soft cuddle bear or a plump one?”
your bottom lip starts to quiver again and you let out a light laugh, “a soft cuddle bear sounds really sweet.”
“then a soft cuddle bear it is.”
“and this is for you.” jin hands you the box over the counter and you take it from him with a grin, “thank you for your purchase! and… sorry about making you cry-“
“oh, god no-“ you snort, “i’m sorry for bursting into tears and loading all of that on you-“
“it’s totally fine!” jin shakes his head, “you’re definitely not the first person to start crying in a build-a-bear, so there’s absolutely nothing to feel bad about.”
“right! right, of course.” you nod and press your lips together, “anyways, thanks for helping me out today, jin.”
“of course! it was a pleasure.” jin clears his throat
it’s pretty clear that the two of you want to continue talking to each other, but…
jin doesn’t usually practice his flirting skills when he’s at build-a-bear, so pardon him for being a little rusty
“so… see you around!” you chirp, “i’m just gonna-“
“wait, uh-“ jin wipes his hands down on the back of his pants, “i… i don’t know if maybe this is a little too soon for you or… and it’s totally fine if you don’t want to, but… maybe i can treat you to an apology corndog or something sometime? i don’t know. this mall doesn’t really offer fine dining, so a corndog is really all i can-“
“yeah, i would love that!” you nod enthusiastically, “an apology corndog with you sounds great. i mean, a regular corndog would be fine too, but- d-do you… want my number?”
also
this isn’t you rebounding or anything
this is the first time in two weeks where your mind hasn’t been clouded with thoughts of your ex-boyfriend
this is the first time in two weeks that you’re actually happy
jin seems genuinely sweet and you wouldn’t mind getting to know him :-))
also you’re glad that hE was the one who asked
because if you were the one who asked, it’d probably make you look that much more pathetic
and you’ve already made a fool of yourself once today!!
you sigh happily as you slam the car door shut
you’re about to shove the key into the ignition when suddenly you remember that your bear has a personalised message inside of him
“oh, right!” you reach over to open up the cardboard house that he’s been shoVed into
!!!
you wonder what soundbyte jin picked out for you!!!
you pull him out and smile fondly at the sight of his chubby arms dangling over your hands
cute :-))
this was money well spent for sure
okay, now how do you activate the sound…
there’s a bit of squeezing and poking but you manage to find the little heart inside of him
you perk up when you hear a muffled crackle
“hi, y/n! it’s me, your furry friend… uh… jin bear! if you’re listening to this, it probably means you’re super sad… cry into my stomach to muffle the sound of your violent sobs! …oh, god, probably shouldn’t have said that- anyways, um, i hope you feel better soon! and remember to give me plenty of cuddles - i promise it’ll make you feel better!”
hA
that was actually a pretty good message
(you hope jin texts u soon)
“okay, jin bear.” you murmur quietly as you buckle him into the passenger seat, “time to take you home.”
help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)
requested drabbles masterlist
#requested drabbles#jin drabbles#jin fics#jin fic recs#jin writing#jin fluff#jin fluff recs#jin#kim seokjin#seokjin fics#seokjin fic recs#seokjin fluff#bts#bts fics#bts fic recs#bts drabbles#bts fluff recs#bts fluff#bts smut#bts smut recs#jin smut recs#bts jin#bts seokjin#bts au#seokjin#bts gifs#seokjin au#kim seokjin au#jin au#jin x reader
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OT7 | Bosses Of A Kind
Summary: Two bitches at work target you, just because you’re close to the CEOs, who they were crushing on. Unfortunately for them, they didn’t know you.
Pairing: None
Genre: Fluff, Savage (?)
Word Count: 3.2k
Warnings: Light profanity (I should probably put that in my other posts too…). I guess that’s it.
You were hurriedly getting ready. Somehow managing to comb your hair and zip your pants at the same time, you hopped on your right foot while wearing a sock on your left one, fully knowing that there was a ninety percent chance you'd fall down. Heaving a sigh when you tripped but caught yourself before you fell, you did the same thing for your other foot.
You grabbed your shoes, hair tie, car keys, and office bag and ran to your car in just your socks. You saw your neighbour and a good friend shake her head at you, adorning an amused smile. She was used to your antics. You gave her a small smile in greeting and got in your car.
You started your car and tried to slip your feet into your semi-formal shoes. Finally stopping your car at a traffic light, you tied your hair. You bent down and put on the velcro on your shoes. Not wanting to wear heels, finding the men's office shoes too formal and sport shoes too casual, you had opted for some simple and stylish school shoes.
You weren't like most girls in your office, wearing tops or shirts with opened buttons showing cleavage, and pairing that with skirts and heels and wearing a lot of makeup and stylish hair. Some women did wear suits, but that looked like they were overdoing it. You simply wore a normal buttoned shirt with trousers with your hair always tied up. You also didn't wear any make up except some lip balm. And your friend f/n was just like you...as long as it came to outfits; she was more girly than you could imagine.
You finally reached your office, parking your car and being extremely careful to not hit another car. You took the thick file from the passenger seat and opened it, checking every document properly and mentally ticking off stuff from your list of things required for the meeting today.
You gathered the papers band put them back on the file. Taking your office bag and tucking your file beneath your armpit, you stepped out. You just stood there for a moment, relishing in the chirping of the birds and swishing of the trees with closed eyes and a serene smile, thankful that one of your bosses was just as much of a nature lover as you were. You opened your eyes when you heard a couple of snickers. Looking around, you saw the two girls known throughout the company for gossiping and crushing on the seven bosses, instead of doing the work they were given. You often wondered why they were still working when they never even submitted their work on time and always lacked behind. The only thing they were great in was spreading rumours.
As soon as they saw you looking their way, they looked away and tried to hide their laughing faces unsuccessfully. You just closed your car door and made your way towards them. Thinking you were coming for them, they moved to the side and nervously pretended that they were laughing at something they had been talking about. But all you did was enter the building, hurrying up a little when you checked your wrist watch and saw that the meeting was starting in half an hour.
You didn't care what they thought about you; you were going to do what you wanted to.
You dropped all your stuff on your desk, and took all the things required for the meeting to the conference room. Inside, you found seven men sitting there doing nothing. One had his head on the desk, sighing every now and then, clearly indicating he was bored. Three of them were talking about something you couldn't hear about.
One of them was being productive and was going through files, while the another was just sitting there staring into nothing. The last one was busy on his phone, and donned a set of headphones, looking out of place in the room.
They were your seven bosses, and none of their antics surprised you at all. Seokjin was the one chatting with Jimin and Hoseok. Namjoon was the responsible one going through the meeting files. Taehyung was the one getting bored. Yoongi was the one with the headphones, and Jungkook was the one staring into space. (Inspired by Jungshook.)
You cleared your throat, and everyone but Yoongi looked at you. Satisfied, you walked towards Namjoon and handed him the file. And nodded his head as a thank you and went back to proofreading the documents. When they saw that it was just you, they went back to doing what they were before. You made your way towards the cabinet and took out some other files. Sitting between Namjoon and Jungkook, you started doing your work.
*****
You plopped down on your very comfortable chair in front of your desk. That meeting was exhausting. At least the deal was finalised. You just laid there for a bit, closing your eyes. You would have definitely fallen asleep if someone didn't poke your stomach suddenly. You opened an eye and looked up in search for the culprit, fully knowing who was it.
As soon as you're eyes fell on her, she gave you a cheeky grin. "Hey, y/n!" She innocently cooed and fluttered her eyelashes. She was such a girl. A lot of times both of you wondered how you both were friends despite being polar opposites, but as they say opposites attract. This was just not that kind of attraction. You narrowed your eyes at her playfully. "F/n, you bitch!" You got up suddenly, taking her by surprise, and started poking her stomach. She squirmed and laughed, trying to get away from you. Thankfully, both of you had the brain enough to not be loud.
After finally calming down, you both sat down, her on your chair, and you on your desk. "How was the meeting?"
"Great. The deal's finalised. The idiots are happy. Which means that we may get to go home early today. You can thank me later." She squealed and hugged you. You smiled and returned the gestured. Then you both heard another one of your colleagues calling her. Giving you a small wave, she went towards him, asking about what happened. You tuned out and decided that you finally had energy enough to start working.
You switched on your PC, logging in. Just as you started typing, a voice was heard behind you. "Miss y/n." You could recognise that voice anywhere. You got up and turned around, mentally grumbling that you hadn't gotten even a little bit of work done the whole day. "Mr. Kim," you saw Seokjin. And then Namjoon came, "and Kim," you furrowed your eyebrows as Taehyung followed Namjoon and came in your line of vision, "and Kim?" You said the last Kim like you were asking a question.
All the three men looked amused and you raised an eyebrow. "What's going on?"
"Nothing, just wanted you to invite to a thank you lunch. Again." Namjoon seated himself on the edge of your desk, as Taehyung leaned against Seokjin. "And you needed to come here yourself to tell me that? And you brought not one more person, but two. Mind tellin' me what's actually going on?"
Taehyung and Namjoon smiled bashfully. "We were getting too happy and too bored." Taehyung explained. You raised an eyebrow, mentally noting you have been doing that a little too many times. "So what do you want me to do? Entertain you?" You leaned against the other end of your desk, opposite Namjoon. Seokjin sat down. "Yes."
"Shut up!" You laughed, the three men joining in. "Anyway, if there's a lunch, you have to— "
"Invite f/n too. We know. She's been told already. Chill." Seokjin interrupted you.
The four of you spent your entire afternoon until lunch break sitting there chatting about everything and anything. You saw some girls shoot you looks of jealously and hatred. But you only ignored them, not wanting to get into silly fights for no reason; it's not like you were crushing on either of the CEOs. And if you started using your mouth at those girls, they wouldn't stand a chance.
At last, the lunch break came, and all of you went to a nearby restaurant, well-liked in the area. Most of your colleagues often found themselves there, including you. You and f/n both noticed those two girls following you all, trying to be discreet but failing miserably. They were the ones laughing at you in the morning and the ones who were giving you glares just minutes ago.
F/n rolled her eyes in your direction, and you gave her a look which said 'what did you expect from them?' Reaching inside the big building, a mouth watering aroma hit you immediately, making your eyes go wide. You had been visiting this restaurant since you started your job three years ago, and yet, the food always had this effect on you. You looked at the seven men giving each other big smiles, hardly able to wait for the food. And none of you were even seated yet.
*****
You and f/n were both staring outside at the big beautiful trees and the shrubs decorating the bottom. Flowers were everywhere and they made you smile. Both of you had nothing to talk about right now and both of you were sick of the two girls being fake-asses and sticking to the boys like leeches. It was amusing to see the uncomfortable glances they sent each other and you at first, asking for help, but it got tiring when the girls just couldn't get a hint and leave you all alone in peace.
They had followed you and given a very stupid excuse to join your fun, naming our peaceful lunch as a company party and saying that they deserved to be one of the people having fun because they contributed so much to get the deal. Being the kind people the guys were, they allowed them to join, despite knowing that they didn't do any work. They weren't even given any work related to the deal in the first place.
"Oh, really?! That's great!" You heard a nasally voice pierce your peace of mind. F/n gave you a deadpan look and rolled her eyes, regretting coming here. You made a face and nodded back at her, telling her you understood. The guys were not just your seniors, they were also good friends with both of you, and you were hoping to have a good time with your favourite people and favourite food.
Instead, all you got was a headache. And they guys wouldn't even let either of you leave, as you were sitting facing each other near the window. You saw them give one of the girls a stare. She was the one who said that whatever they were talking about was great. You raised an eyebrow at Jungkook, who was sitting right next to f/n.
"They've been giving positive reactions to everything we say. The last to last deal being cancelled is not great." He whispered, not even trying to be subtle. He wanted them gone and you knew it.
And then it finally happened. The other girl turned to you. "Y/n! Why have you been so quiet? And I can just tell by what you're wearing that you don't have a sense of fashion," she gave a stale glance to f/n, who was still lost in her own world, and continued, "You should come hang out with us, we'll give you fashion advice and help you do your make and hair every morning. It's time you let go of your trousers babe."
You had made a face of distaste as soon as she had started speaking. "I would rather be like this than hang out with people like you who laugh at others enjoying the serenity of nature and stick to their bosses like glue. At least I have some dignity." Your reply was very blunt and straightforward.
Both the girls became very flustered at your reply. You hadn't realised but when that girl was speaking f/n had suddenly directed her attention at her, and had listened to your whole answer. You heard her very obnoxious laugh when you stopped speaking, and that made you smirk. You could see the seven men trying to hold in their laughter, trying not to be rude.
"Seriously, it's lunch time, from angle does this look like a company party to you? None of the work concerning the deal was given to either of you, because the whole building knows what would have happened if you were allowed to even help a little bit. And about that," you pointed an accusing finger to her tightening her hold on Jimin's arm, "do you even know Chim's birthday? His favourite colour? Even his fucking personality?! Fuck, you don't even know why his nickname is Chim in the first place.
"I will never ever be hanging out with you. Give one more look to f/n and I'll have your throats. I'm not going to convert into some bitch like you. I sometimes wonder if you even use a bra with the amount of times you've opened your shirt buttons to show off your cleavage. Learn to get a hint, both of you. That, and get out of our faces." All this time, you never even raised your voice, but somehow attracted the attention of most of your peers around you anyway.
Both of them had been getting more and more nervous by the second hearing what you were saying. You opened your wallet and took out money enough to pay for everything you all had ordered. Slamming the notes down on the table, you attempted to get out, and this time, the guys let you. F/n followed suit, and you saw her give a proud smile in your direction. The girl holding Jimin's arm let go on her own, but Yoongi had to snatch his arm from her hold. The guys walked behind you too.
You were in full mood to have a stern talk with them. F/n knew what you were thinking and went to do her own work. You went straight to the boys' office, and they could do nothing but follow you. You seated yourself on the table, taking off your shoes, opening the collar button, and hitching up your pants a little. When they all came in and closed the door, you were comfortably seated on top of the big table with crossed legs.
"Before I start talking, what's wrong Hobi? The last I heard you talk was during the meeting." He had been looking worse for wear since after the meeting, and you had thought about asking him during lunch. "This idiot didn't sleep last night, and now he's exhausted." Seokjin hit the back of his head. "C'mon guys, there's not one CEO running this big ass company, there's seven of you. You need to start taking care of yourselves."
Hoseok rubbed his face and came towards you. Keeping his forehead on your shoulder, he sighed. You rubbed his hair. "I thought I'd regain my energy during lunch by having fun with you all, but now I have a headache because of those girls. I didn't even know they were working for us."
"Me too!" You whined and kept your head on his shoulder. You heard all of them chuckle.
"Well, I guess it's going home early for both of you." Hoseok slightly raised his head. You let yourself fall behind, knowing someone will catch you. "I love you, Joon!"
"Stop being over dramatic and get out." The person who was holding you said. You opened your eyes and found an upside down Taehyung. You gave him an award-winning smile. "Fire those idiots. They've been trying to mess up with me since the day I started." Suddenly, there was blanket of quiet around the room. You got up saw them all frowning. "Why didn't you tell us?" Jimin was the one to speak up.
"Uh...because I'm a grown woman and can handle them myself?" You gave him a 'are you dumb?' expression. Being the same age came with privileges. "I mean, I'm asking you to fire them for their safety. If I see them even look in my direction one more time, I swear to god, I will break all the 206 bones in their body, exchange the places of their lungs and intestines, and dispose them off into the next century!"
They all were looking at you with wide eyes. "I really really think you need sleep. That headache is messing with your brain." Seokjin gently pushed you off the table and guided you and Hoseok to the door. "Call me when you reach home, both of you."
You both nodded and went to your desk. Finding f/n there, you quickly explained the whole situation to her while collecting your stuff. She bid you both goodbye and went to do her work.
You dropped off Hoseok to his house and firmly told him to go to sleep, even making him promise to you. Half an hour later, you found yourself snuggling a pillow in your bed, already half asleep.
*****
It was your third day off. You had unexpectedly gotten sick, not that you cared. You still went to office the next day, but when Jungkook saw you drinking glucose instead of water the whole day, he dragged you to their office. When you told them that you had had a fever the whole day, they had guilt tripped you into taking some leaves.
You were in your kitchen, drinking a glass of water. The fever was still there, and that's why you didn't go to work. You were hating this; even in school, you had barely ever taken a day off if you got ill. Then the doorbell rang. Wondering who could it be, you opened it, only to find a big basket filled with your favourite foods. It had a cute little card attached to the handle, and you read it.
Get well soon!
- Kim Seokjin, Min Yoongi, Jung Hoseok, Kim Namjoon,
Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Jeon Jungkook
You chuckled when you saw that all of them had signed their full names on the small card. You also found quick-to-make noodle soup in the basket.
You called Yoongi. Knowing he had the phone on speaker, you closed the door and said very loudly, "Thanks guys! I love you, you idiots!" Making a 'muah' sound, you hung up.
#bts#bangtan#bangtan boys#bangtan sonyeondan#bts imagines#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#bts jin#bts suga#bts jhope#bts rm#bts jimin#btsv#bts jungkook#jin#suga#jhope#rm#jimin#v#jungkook#bts seokjin#bts yoongi#bts hoseok#bts namjoon#bts taehyung#seokjin#yoongi#hoseok#namjoon
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justice is blind | j.jaehyun
▸ mafia! jaehyun x lawyer! reader
▸ summary y/n and jaehyun are two different chemicals. one works for the law and one works disrupting the law; but somehow, the two found solace and unconditional love from each other. however, the path that leads to their forever took a rocky turn when y/n was assigned to defend a former lover. word count 3754
▸ angst, fluff | WARNINGS: smut, domestic abuse (if you are not comfortable with this, please refrain from reading)
this isn’t proofread so pls excuse any mistakes <3
You beamed at the man in front of you. The dim lights of the expensive restaurant added a dramatic effect to the already romantic night. He held your hand before pressing a soft kiss at the back of it. The deep red wine in front of you replicated the burning love that you have for him.
The man you have been loving for exactly 4 years today, was none other than Jung Jaehyun - a prominent mob boss in the whole South Korea. Although Jaehyun did not have the supreme power as the overall leader, Lee Taeyong, he did have tremendous control over a huge portion of the mafia. One is left to wonder: how in the hell did a lawyer fall in love with a mafia boss?
The answer goes way back to your first year as an attorney. A person’s first paycheck is something worth celebrating. Shots after shots of fiery liquid and you found yourself on the lap of a man gifted by the gods.
That night, Jaehyun swore that no one deserves to touch you aside from him. And thus started a journey full of romance, adventure, and loyalty.
--
“Y/N,” Your fellow lawyer, Kun, stood beside your desk. You looked up and offered him a questioning smile.
“What’s up?” You asked. He took a deep breathe before answering.
“I really hate to do this to you but,” He landed a folder at your desk. You glanced at it and furrowed your brows. It was normal for lawyers to hand over clients before they could start the case. Kun was one of your closest friends and it was not new to the both of you to exchange cases. His seemingly reluctant demeanor today made you wonder why he seems hesitant to give you his case. “I’m working on a huge case with Jennie and I need to focus on it.”
“That’s not a problem, Kun.” You assured him. “Why do you seem nervous giving me this case?”
A part of your mind told you that there’s a possibility that the case would be about Jaehyun. However, the NCT mafia is in deep connections with the feds. If anyone would to stir up trouble with NCT, the mafia would not hesitate to use it’s overwhelming power. That’s how powerful your boyfriend’s mafia is, they are above the law. Now the possibility of it being about Jaehyun or NCT is out, you still wondered what the hell is this case about.
“It’s about Kim Mingyu.” Your breathing hitched at the mention of the name. That’s a name you haven’t heard in forever; the name of your ex. You immediately opened the folder and Kun took it as a signal to give you the details. “Mingyu called the police on the night of the 16th. By the time the police got there, they found Mingyu laying unconscious on the floor with several bruises all over his body. After he regained consciousness, he claimed that his wife beat him to a pulp. Apparently, it’s a domestic abuse case. That wasn’t the first time she beat him.”
A tidal wave of sadness washed over you. You and Mingyu ended before you took the licensure exam to become a lawyer. The break up wasn’t messy, it was just because both of you wanted different things in your life. For a year that you dated Mingyu, he never had the nerve to hit you or even break something in front of you. He was a good guy and although things were left in a bitter tone between you two, you found yourself sympathizing with him.
“I’ll take it.” You announced. “Do you have the name of his wife?”
“Kim Jiwoo.”
--
You craned your aching neck as soon as you entered you and Jaehyun’s shared home. Jaehyun followed behind you after parking the car on the garage. With his colossal wealth, it wasn’ t difficult for him to find a home that exceeded your expectations. You earned quite a sum of money yourself but Jaehyun almost always insisted on paying for everything.
You slumped over the couch. Jaehyun’s fingers kneaded the tense muscles of your shoulders which made you hum at the sensation.
“How was work today?” He said in a low voice.
“Nothing unusual.” You replied. “How about yours? Did Johnny finally forgive you for missing his art exhibit?”
“All it took was a free lunch from me.” You two chuckled.
It wasn’t long before you found yourself at home in his lap with his hands roaming through the skin that your clothing exposed. Your fingers tangled themselves through his thick hair. The way his lips captured yours was something you never got used to. Through 4 years, he always seemed to surprise you every time you fucked.
“Are we really doing this on the couch?” You breathed as you fumbled over the buttons of his shirt.
“It’s been a while since we did it here.” He replied. One of his hands found the back of your head and with a slight push, his lips found yours again.
You grind your clothed core over his, in attempt to create friction for relief. He moaned to the kiss, signaling you to push deeper and faster. He flipped you on your back and towered over your small body. Jaehyun loved control and nothing turns him on better than the sight of you under him. Normally, Jaehyun would be one to enjoy foreplay. But tonight, he wasted no time exposing your core by hastily removing your panties from your body. His cock sprung from his pants and boxers. You gasped as you felt him stretching you wide.
“Oh my god,” He moaned. His eyes were closed shut as he pushed everything of him into you.
“Jae-” You couldn’t finish your sentence as you felt him filling you to the brim. Your hands found their way to his toned chest.
Each time Jaehyun thrust himself into you, you swore you could taste heaven. It wasn’t long before your legs were trembling and his pace got sloppy. You felt yourself clench around his cock as you ride your orgasm. Jaehyun looked at the view of his cock being swallowed by your tight pussy. The moment he felt your walls tighten around him, he lost himself. You screamed at the sensation of his cum painting every inch of your pussy.
As the two of you laid on the couch to catch your breathe, you nuzzled your face to the crook of his neck.
“I’m always in love with you, Y/N.” He spoke in a whisper. His fingers massaging your scalp.
“I’m in love with you too, Jae.” You replied, preparing yourself for a good night’s rest before focusing on your new case.
--
The lights of the office was dim but you saw it as clear as day. The clotted cuts and purple bruises that sprawled across Mingyu’s once cheerful and bright face. It was no question that you would find everything to make his wife pay. The ache that you felt in your heart wasn’t because you still romantically love him. The pain you felt was because of the fact that someone was so heartless to abuse their husband. The fact that Mingyu was once an important figure in your life added fuel to the fire in you. You had no mercy for abusers and you would cross anyone just to win this case.
“How are you?” He asked.
“I should be the one asking you that, Mingyu.” You spoke calmly.
“You don’t need to ask me to know how I am, Y/N.” He replied with a sorrow smile. “Really, how are you?”
“I’m fine.” You replied.
“Don’t look at me like that.” He said before looking down at his fingers.
“Like what?” You asked carefully.
“Like I’m some kind of un-fixable set of bones.” He sighed. “My cuts and bruises will heal. Looks of pity is the last thing I need right now.”
You sighed and straightened your back. You looked over the pictures inside the file folder. “Where does it usually happen?”
“It’s almost always in the living room.” He responded. You saw how hard it was for him to reminisce the past months of his life. “But, sometimes in the bedroom, kitchen, bathroom. Everywhere really.”
“How often does it happen?”
“At first, it only happens whenever we have a huge fight. It wasn’t often before. But, her family cut her off. She wasn’t the same ever since. I thought it was because she was frustrated and hurt. So I let her take it on me. I wanted to be a loyal husband and I love her enough to let her hurt me.”
Mingyu wiped a tear from his face. You didn’t realize the tears threatening to fall from your eyes.
“You don’t have to continue if you’re not yet ready.” You remind him.
He shook his head as tears continued to fall from his eyes. “Last March, I had cameras set up around the house because there was a burglary in the neighborhood. She doesn’t know I had those set up; I never had the chance to tell her. You can see everything there.”
--
You sighed as you entered Jaehyun’s car. It was the end of the week and the past few day’s revelation made you extra weary. You kissed his cheek before settling in the passenger’s seat.
“Where do you want to eat dinner?” Jaehyun asked you.
“There’s this new sushi place that Kun said was good. Do you want to try it out?” You suggested.
He nodded in response before setting the car’s GPS.
“I’m leaving for a few days.” Jaehyun started. “Me and Johnny were asked to do the evaluation for the Chinese unit.”
“Oh.” Your demeanor fell. You hated when Jaehyun leaves for a period of time. Not only do you miss him, but you fear whatever harm might come his way. You felt his hand squeeze yours.
“I’ll be fine, baby.” He softly said. “Doyoung will keep you company and secured while I’m away.”
“Be safe always, okay?”
“Always.”
--
The situation is this: Doyoung’s jaw is threatening to reach the ground when he saw the whiteboard in your home office and you were trying your best not to let him panic. You took the opportunity to bring the paperwork home since Jaehyun was away. Jaehyun never minded any case you worked on before but the fact that this particular case involves Mingyu made you hide it from him.
“D-does Jae-jaehyun know?” Doyoung stuttered. He knew how heated Jaehyun gets when it comes to you. Jaehyun was good at keeping emotions at bay; all except for jealousy.
“No, Doyoung, he does not.” You replied sternly.
“Why?”
“Do I need to tell you why?” You rebutted.
“Why did you take this case, anyway? Aren’t there 6 others lawyers in your office?” Doyoung interrogated you.
You sighed before responding. “Everyone else was booked except for me.”
“You do know that Jaehyun will go batshit crazy if he finds out about this?” He stated the obvious.
“Of course, I know.” You felt your eyes drop on the laptop in front of you. You were yet to review the security tapes from Mingyu’s home. “And I’m counting on you to not snitch on me.”
“Of course I won’t sni-” Doyoung’s eyes fell on the suspect’s picture that was taped to the whiteboard. “Y/N? Why is Jiwoo in this case?”
“You know Jiwoo?” You stood up to walk near him.
“You don’t know Jiwoo?” You rolled your eyes at his retort.
“How am I supposed to know my ex-boyfriend’s wife? We haven’t spoke in almost 6 years.”
Doyoung faced you, the playful aura that he usually sports was not evident on his face.
“Y/N, that’s your boyfriend’s sister.”
--
One of the reasons why Jaehyun was dedicated to NCT is because it became his new family. After cutting him out of their lives, Jaehyun was forced to go to extreme measures to stay alive. Ever since NCT was established, he never spoke to his family and he never spoke about them. You understood him. It wasn’t your position to dictate how he should feel about his family. You never met anyone except for his mother - whom you only met twice. Remnants of how his family looks like never existed in the home you both share. You accept that. When you first started to love Jaehyun, you accepted all that he is and was. So, was it your fault that you didn’t know Jiwoo was Jaehyun’s sister?
You rubbed your hands on your face. Your eyes were dry from reviewing the security tapes over and over again. You made sure the opponent doesn’t find any loophole. The trial was tomorrow. You wished that time would go fast. Your reverie was interrupted by the ringing of your phone.
“Hello?” You greeted the person on the line.
“When were you going to tell me?” Jaehyun’s voice was cold. You swallowed a lump that formed in your throat. This tone of his never meant anything that you enjoy.
“What are you talking about?” You tried to keep your voice was breaking. You knew exactly what he was talking about.
“That you’re about to send my sister to prison.” He responded. Your heart pumped fast.
“Who told you that?”
“Jiwoo.”
It boggled you why he was bothered by the fact that you’re fighting against Jiwoo. He never cared about his family. He never once spoke about them to you. You never saw him meet with anyone.
“Oh and also the fact that you’re defending Mingyu? I thought we promised no secrets from each other?”
You sighed for nth time today. You were too tired to fight. “Jaehyun, baby, can we talk about this when you’re home?”
“I’ll be home in a few hours.” He announced before cutting the line.
--
You tried to distract yourself from the anxiety that was boiling inside of you. It has been an hour before your call with Jaehyun ended. You decided to lay down on the small couch in your home office. You looked at the night sky that your window provided. You and Jaehyun promised that work wouldn’t get in between your personal life. And for the longest time, you two were good at that. Your jobs never interfered between you two - except for the times you feared for his life. You wanted so bad for Jaehyun to understand the situation. You closed your eyes with that wish in your mind.
Your sleep was interrupted by the sound of the front door closing. You sat up and fixed yourself. You had no idea what this night has to offer but you swore to stick to your principles. You spotted Jaehyun pacing in the living room.
“Jae.” You spoke quietly. It would be dishonest to say that you weren’t scared of angry Jaehyun. You knew that he wouldn’t hurt you but his voice can shake this walls of the home.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked immediately.
“Because you wouldn’t want me to pursue it.” You honestly replied.
“That’s my sister you’re going after, Y/N.“
“How was I supposed to know, Jaehyun? You never tell me about your family. If you resent them so much, why do you care if you’re sister might go to prison?”
“She’s still my sister. Even if I resent her, we’re still cut from the same cloth. Do you know how hard it was for me to hear her crying because my girlfriend is doing her best to send her to prison?”
You let out a sarcastic chuckle. “Oh my god, Jaehyun.”
Jaehyun waited for you to continue what you have to say. His hair was disheveled from the amount of times he ran his fingers through it.
“Your sister abused a person.” You stated. “I don’t care if it was anyone. I didn’t take the case because of Mingyu. I took the case because of what Jiwoo did. This is my job, Jaehyun. And if you can’t accept that this is a part of what I do, then do you even accept me at all?”
You didn’t wait for him to respond. You wiped the tears that fell on your cheeks as you ascend the stairs.
--
“The jury finds the defendant guilty. Kim Jiwoo, you are sentenced to 20 years in prison. Court is adjourned.”
You exhaled a relief as the judge banged the gavel. A month’s worth of stress was finally off your shoulders. Even if things with Jaehyun was still under construction, you felt happy. You were happy that you stood by what your principles and let an abuser get what they deserve. You faced a teary-eyed Mingyu and offered him a tight hug.
“Thank you, Y/N.” His voice was shaking.
“You’re always welcome, Mingyu.” You replied. You release from the hug and chuckled as he hastily wiped his tears.
“I’m sorry that this affected you and Jaehyun.” He said.
“Hey, don’t apologize. I’m a lawyer, this is my job.” You assured him.
You felt a pounding on your head and all you wanted to do was rest. You spotted Doyoung on the hallways.
“Great job, Y/N. I’m always in awe of you.” Doyoung complimented.
“Thanks, Doyoung.” You responded as he offered to open the passenger seat’s door for you.
The ride from the courthouse to your home wasn’t long. You wished it was though as you were not ready to face Jaehyun yet. You thanked Doyoung as you exit his car and entered the front door. Based on the silence of the house, you concluded that Jaehyun wasn’t home. You stratched your body as you made your way to your shared bedroom. You laid on the bed and snuggled to his side of the bed. The smell is a mix of his favorite detergent and body wash. You sighed as you caressed his pillow. It’s been almost two weeks since you slept in the same bed. He was away for work and you were looking forward to snuggling him after sleeping alone for days. But instead, your case kept the two of you apart. You closed your eyes as you let sleep take you.
--
You stirred sleepily as you felt a warm hand rub the skin of your bad. You forced yourself to open your eyes. The blurry figure of Jaehyun entered your vision. You sat up on the bed as you realized that Jaehyun was already home.
“Hey.” He said softly.
“Hi.” You responded.
“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He started. His eyes dropped to thick blankets that sprawled all over your legs. “I was too caught up with the fact that you kept it away from me. I was also caught up by the fact that my sister did that to Mingyu. It’s just that I’ve always seen her as the opposite of me - not doing illegal shit and actually building a good life for herself. So, when I heard what she did, I couldn’t bring myself to believe it.”
You held his hand with yours. He took it as a signal to continue. “There wasn’t any excuse for what she did. And you did the right thing by letting her get what she deserves. I realized that if that were to happen to you, I would also go beyond anyone to serve you justice. I’m sorry I didn’t realize that sooner.”
You smiled at his statements. One thing that you love about Jaehyun is that he has such a sweet, understanding side. He never shows this side to anyone except you. You pressed a long kiss to his cheek as you hear him sniffle a bit.
“It’s okay, Jaehyun.” You assured him.
“If that happened to you, Y/N-” He continued, with his eyes watering. “I don’t care if you’re my ex or anything, I’d do anything.”
“I’m not gonna be your ex, though.” You replied. You held his face between your palms and pressed a kiss on his lips. His lips that you longed so much to taste for the past few days.
“I’m not letting you be.”
Fin.
a/n: i hope u enjoyed this! im not very confident with the plot so please tell me what u think. also i know the smut part is cringey but i hope u liked it nonetheless. i also realized that this isn’t very mafia-y??? like theres not much mafia action?? i’ll do better next time <3
#jung jaehyun#jung jaehyun au#jaehyun imagines#jaehyun x reader#jaehyun x you#nct imagines#nct 127#nct jaehyun#jaehyun angst#jaehyun fluff#nct jaehyun imagines#jaehyun smut#jung yoonoh#nct scenarios
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