#kpopwritingnet
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A Snagged Thread (preview)
Pairing: Jihoon x Female Reader, ft. Seventeen and other currently undecided idols
Genre: Angst, Romance
Summary: You loved Jihoon, your boyfriend of three years, more than anything. But after one too many times of being forgotten, you can’t bear it. You completely disappear from his life, planning on keeping it that way forever. But when a favor for a friend forces you and Jihoon to cross paths, will you give your hearts a second chance or guard it fiercely to stop it from breaking again?
Could a night be more perfect?
A breeze warm with the promise of summer drifts through the cracked windows. It's gentle enough to kiss your face and barely push at the candle on the table's flame. The restaurant lights are dim and soft, perfect for romantic whispers and smiles glowing with infatuation. An acoustic guitar floats from carefully hidden speakers.
From listening to Jihoon's own playing, you can tell the guitarist is talented. The music speaks rather then being simply played. The melody is deceptively simple, enticing the listener to try to remember if they heard it before. It teases the ears, smoothly dancing from light flirtation to enticing seduction and back again.
Jihoon would fall under its spell for sure. His fingers would be tapping against your hand as it tried to follow the notes. As always, his mind would be squirreling away snippets and strands of inspiration to try to revive and rework in his own way later.
If he was here that is.
Instead, the chair opposite you is only occupied by a phantom. A phantom made of shards of broken promises and ugly insecurities made all the more clear by the shrinking candle reflected in the window.
“Miss.”
You glance away from the window at the waitress’ gentle voice, then away from her face. Instead, you focus on the neat bow-tie at her throat. It's too late though. The pity in her eyes was clear and stings more than you thought it would. You expected it, having seen it many times before in other faces in the same familiar situation. It never gets more bearable.
“I’m very sorry, miss, but we have a number of people waiting. If you’re not going to order, I’m going to have to ask that you give your table up.”
“Can I have another ten minutes?” You give her a smile, but you can feel how weak it is. “Please.”
“I'm really sorry, but my manager said-”
“It's okay. I understand,” you blurt out.
You get up, but do it too quickly. Your chair violently falls back, loudly smacking into the one behind you. Blessedly, it's empty. Turning to correct it, your ankle twists in its ridiculous heel, throwing you forward as well. If it weren't for the waitress catching your arm, you would have planted face-first into the hardwood.
“Miss! Are you alr-”
“I'm fine, thank you.” You take your arm back as your ears and cheeks burn. Opening your purse, you pull some bills from your wallet and press them into the waitress' hand. “I'm so sorry for wasting your time.”
Her eyes widen at the amount. She tries to give it back, protesting, “Miss, I can't -”
“Yes, you can. Someone should have a good evening.”
You all but run away, thankfully managing to avoid bumping into anyone. The shock of the cool air when you step through the door sends goosebumps up your arms and legs. A wind forces your arms to fold over your chest as insult to injury. Still, it's better to focus on that instead of the slow crumbling of your heart.
The subway to take you home is just a block away. But your feet hurt and you're tired and you just want to burrow under your blankets with the lights off. If you never re-emerge, it is what it is.
A taxi pulls up in front of the restaurant. A man dressed in a smart suit exits first, immediately turning to offer his hand to his female companion. They positively glow with the happiness of infatuation. Matching smiles. Gentle, intertwined fingers. Stars captured in their eyes.
It turns your stomach.
You had that. You know you did when you and Jihoon started dating a few years ago. One look in his eyes would steal your breath and stop your heart. You know it was the same for him. You'd seen it, felt it, breathed it. Maybe not as much recently, given how infrequently you met and how often that was spent napping together, but definitely in the beginning...
Fuck it, you think to yourself as you feel the disappointment, frustration and sheer pain building in your chest. If you're going to lose it, you'd rather do it in the privacy of a taxi than surrounded by strangers on the subway.
“Wait!” You raise your hand and rush to grab the taxi door, opening and sliding in.
After giving the driver your address, you lean your head back against the headrest. You close your tired eyes and sigh. You can do this. It's not that far. You're a big girl. You can keep it together that long.
Rubbing your eyes, you try repeating an affirmation.
“I am a strong woman. I am a strong woman,” you tell yourself. “I am a strong, beautiful, independent woman. I- I am-... I am a strong-”
The words get stuck in your throat, like they know their own futility. Before you completely lose it, you clamp your lips shut and press your tongue into the roof of your mouth. Praying you can just get home.
The taxi stops at your apartment building just in time. You place a too-large bill in the driver's hand, shouting back to keep the change as you scramble out the door.
You drop your card the first time when you try to swipe into your building. At this hour, the entry is abandoned, as are the stairs that you run up. Your breath is labored by the time you reach your door, your heart thudding even faster. It takes three tries to fit the key into the lock. When the door finally closes behind you, you immediately collapse against it.
“One more chance, Jihoon,” you murmur, sliding down to sit on the floor. “Please, don't mess it up. Please...”
You take a deep breath, steeling yourself as you take your phone from your purse. Its screen is dark. Just like it has been most of the evening. It lights up, painfully bright in the dark of your apartment. Hoping you accidentally turned the notifications' sound off, you unlock the phone to look at your messages.
Hi, love. I'm here.
You didn't forget, did you?
I'm going to head in so we don't lose the reservation. See you inside.
Are you on your way?
Jihoon, where are you?
All your texts.
Not a single answer. Not even a single 'read' next to them.
The iron claws squeezing your heart clamp down harder. Is this what a heart attack feels like?
This isn't the first time Jihoon was a no-show for a date. He always had an excuse. A filming ran late. He lost track of time in the studio. The group needed to do an extra practice.
Every time, Jihoon held your hands, his apology as much in his eyes as his words. Every time, you smiled and forgave him.
He'd promised this time. He'd promised he wouldn't forget. He'd promised he'd be there. You'd believed him, even making a dress especially for the occasion.
But he failed you again. Ignored you again. Forgot you, again.
You feel the urge to throw your phone and scream, but it's gone in an instant. It's too much effort. A heavy, ugly hollowness fills the void left by the brief flash of anger. Instead, you let your phone slip between your fingers onto the floor. Just like your body wants to.
Your vision blurs as words utterly fail in the face of choked down sobs now erupting. The taste of salty tears run down your cheeks to catch on your lips. Your chest palpitates with your hiccupping breaths. It's like the shreds of your heart are attempting escape by battering their way through. Burying your head in your arms, you have no choice but to drown in the tidal wave of hurt slamming into you over and over again.
You are tired. So tired of the disappointment and the insecurities Jihoon's repeated absences seem to affirm. You are tired of feeling like you, your relationship, mean nothing to him. That you are all the things your worst fears hissed in your mind for years. The demons you've fought and once had Jihoon fighting alongside you.
That you are forgettable.
Unworthy.
Unlovable.
As you lie on the floor shaking, aching, and alone, you can't help thinking one thing.
Enough.
Jihoon sits in front of his computer in the studio. His fingers lightly tap against the mouse, where they've been glued for hours. There's something missing from the melody. He just hasn't figured it out yet. He hits play, settling into his chair, hunting intently for that piece to make it perfect.
Just as he feels it inching closer, someone knocks on the door.
“What?” he snaps, whipping his chair around.
Jeonghan pops his head in, completely unfazed by his groupmate's biting tone. “Jihoon, you're still here?”
“Yeah.” He spins his chair back around. “I need to finish this song. It's driving me crazy.”
“Is it the one you've been working on since last month?”
Jihoon hums in agreement.
“Have you asked Bumzu for help yet? Maybe you're too stuck in your own head.”
“Not yet... but getting a second opinion isn't a bad idea. Would you mind listening?”
“Sure.” Jeonghan comes in, grabbing the extra chair and wheeling it beside Jihoon. “Oh, by the way, you never told us how your anniversary date went. Did Y/N like the restaurant?”
Jihoon freezes, his hand hovering over the mouse. He had to have misheard. “Our what?”
His groupmate stares at him. Speaking slowly, Jeonghan says, “You and your girlfriend's third anniversary. Like four weeks ago. You’d only been arranging just the right restaurant for it for months....”
“Fuck,” Jihoon groans, slouching back into his chair with his face in his hands. His heart sickeningly drops in his chest.
“Jihoon, please don't tell me you forgot.”
His mind races through the days that feel like a blur. How did he not remember? How? “I think I screwed up.”
“Missing an anniversary? Yeah, I think you did.” Jeonghan gets up, patting his shoulder. “I'm going to leave. I think you have more important things than a song.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Jihoon scrubs his face with his hands before pulling his phone out of his pocket. He frowns at it. He can't even remember the last time you two talked, he's been so busy. Why didn't you call him, text him? If not the day of your anniversary, why not after?
He checks his call log. Two missed calls from you from a week or two ago. He'd meant to call you back on those, but never did. Stupid.
Then, he checks your chat. That's when he sees the number of notifications. “What the hell...”
Jihoon curses again as he remembers that one night. He doesn't even remember when it was. All he recalls is getting annoyed at the back to back beeps alerting him to messages when he was neck-deep in composing a song. Assuming it was the other members sending memes in the group chat, he'd silenced the notifications and tossed the phone back. He must have never gone back to check if they were on again.
Dammit. You have every right to be pissed at him.
He's more than aware of how much you put up with. From keeping your relationship low-key to constant rescheduling around his schedule. The awkward number of times he's had to apologize for missing a date or falling asleep while you told him about a new design you were trying at work. Yet somehow, you love him enough to always smile, tell him it's alright, and keep on loving him. Sometimes, he can't help but wonder if he's worthy of the love of such a saint.
Switching back to calls, Jihoon presses your speed dial. Unsurprisingly, he gets your voicemail. Sighing, he leans forward with his elbows on his knees.
“Hi, it's me...” He clears his throat, embarrassment and guilt robbing him of eloquence. “I'm really, really sorry I missed our date. I just saw that I accidentally turned the notifications off on our chat. I can't believe I did that. I wasn't ignoring you on purpose, I promise. I'm an idiot and I can't blame you for being upset with me. I've just been really busy with work. You know how it is... I'll come by your place later to apologize in person. I promise, I'll make it up to you. I'm sorry... I love you.”
Although Jihoon had every intention of going to your apartment that very night, it's a few days later that he finally makes it there. As he climbs the steps, he can feel his hands shaking. How will you react when he shows up? Sure, he's made mistakes and you've fought before, but never this bad.
Will you be angry? Silent? Sad? God, he hopes you don't cry. He can't stand when you cry because of him. He never knows what to do when he makes you cry.
Whatever you do, Jihoon reminds himself, he'll deal with it. He'll take it. He deserves it after what he did. With that resolve, he tightens his fingers around the bouquet of sunflowers he's carrying. He'll do anything to make it up to you.
Reaching your apartment door, he knocks. When the door mechanisms click, Jihoon straightens his shoulders and fixes on his best apology face on. However, it’s not your face that greets him as the door opens. Only empty space.
“Who’re you?” asks a small, high-pitched voice.
Jihoon looks down over the bouquet into the eyes of an inquisitive child. He glances over at the number beside the door. It’s definitely yours. Is one of your friends with a kid visiting?
“Um, hi. Is –”
An older woman Jihoon doesn't recognize rushes from behind the door to scoop up the child. “Jiah, what did I tell you about opening the door?”
“Don't open the door for strangers,” the child innocently replies.
“Excuse me,” Jihoon says politely, “but is Y/N here?”
The woman shakes her head. “I’m sorry, but there’s no one here by that name.”
It feels like someone poured Arctic water over his head. That's not possible. “What?”
“We just moved in last week. I'm sorry.”
Panicking when the woman starts to close the door, Jihoon catches it with his hand. “Do you know where the woman who lived here before moved?”
“No. I don’t even know her name.”
He lets go as the door closes, his fingers numb. Why would you move? Did you tell him?You must have mentioned your new address in the messages.
He hurriedly opens your chat, reading the messages. His heart drops further and further with each. Then, he gets to the last two, spaced a day apart, and it absolutely stops.
Jihoon, this is our last chance. Please call me back.
I'm sorry. I can't.
The sunflowers fall to the floor, forgotten as Jihoon runs back the way he had come. He reaches the street, out of breath. He can't think, only feel. He feels like he should run, run through the city calling your name until his legs give out.
You wouldn't just leave like this. You wouldn't abandon him. Not like this.
A single coherent thought breaks its way through his panic. Call her. His fumbling fingers hit your number.
“Come on, come on, pick up,” he begs.
Immediately, instead of ringtone, he gets the message, I’m sorry, but the number you have dialed is no longer in service. Please try again.
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Eros et Psyche - Part 1: Agape
💘 Genre: Romance, Fantasy, Adventure, Drama, s2l, Greek God myth AU
💘 Pairing: Im Jaebeom x (f) OC
💘 Rating: 18+
💘 Warning(s): swearing, intense pining, alcohol, smoking, jealousy, misogyny, Greek gods being Greek gods, mistaken identities
💘 Word Count: 5.1k
💘 Credits: Beta read by the marvelous @yoongsgguktae 💜 ily sis thank you
💘 Summary: A modern take on the Greek myth of Eros and Psyche.
💘 A/N: Part of The Intimacy Anthology Project hosted by @peonybane found here
This is my retelling of this particular myth, changes have been made to make it more modern (as you will see with the rest of the fic) Enjoy :)
< 💘 >
The vase smashed against the wall, shards flying in countless directions. A door creaked opened hesitantly as a head poked through with caution.
“Mother?”
She already had her back to him, fumbling with a pack of Virginia Slims. Ignoring him for a moment, she lit the skinny cigarette and inhaled a long drag, blowing out a swirl of wispy smoke. Her eyes cut to him as if allowing him to enter.
The young man entered, pushing his dark locks back off his face. His eyes cut to the remains of the vase on the floor.
“That was your favorite vase.”
She grunted in response, wrapping her robe tighter around her body. He glanced at the woman who’d brought him into this world. Petite at five foot five inches, but that didn’t stop her from being a force to reckon with.
Krystal established herself as a model long ago, being practically worshipped by the public. Having to hide her true nature, she settled for features opposite her own: long, dark tresses reaching her lower back, sun-kissed skin free of blemishes.
Sporting a baby pink silk robe, she carried herself over to the chaise lounge and draped herself over it.
“Jaebeom, be a dear and bring your mother a martini, dirty...extra olives.”
He sighed, walking over to the vast corner bar at the edge of the penthouse. Windows from floor to ceiling, it overlooked the beautiful view of the city. Always the best, his mother said.
Krystal watched her son in anticipation. One would think they were siblings with how young she looked, but it was better this way; fewer questions from the press. He took nicely after her and not his father, opting for black hair almost shoulder-length, almond-shaped eyes that always seemed to hold a secret, standing at five foot ten inches, the muscles were attributed to Ares—not that she’d admit it.
Today he wore an Allsaints leather jacket, gray hoodie, and ripped black jeans. Aviators propped on top of his head finished the casual look. He always seemed so put together.
But in reality, he was a bundle of nerves. Being the child of the Goddess of Love and God of War was exhausting. Two volatile beings always on edge. And being the God of Desire just added to that stress. He would have preferred working with his dad, and yet here he was, spreading his...influence over others while they found happiness and love. But where was he? Forever to be alone, serving martinis to his mother and doing her bidding, usually getting his hands dirty.
Jaebeom mixed the alcohol and dry vermouth in the shaker diligently before pouring the mix into a martini glass. Adding a few olives for good measure, he delivered it to his mother with care.
She sat up against the pillows and took a generous sip. Sighing, her eyes closed. Jaebeom sat back on the opposite end watching her.
Regaining some calmness, she opened her eyes with a smile. “My little boy makes the best drinks.”
Jaebeom held back an eye roll. Of course, he did, she trained him on how to make drinks since he was a child. “What’s with the dramatic flair? Why are you so stressed out?”
She pouted, setting her glass down. “What? I can’t spend time with my Jiffy Poo?”
Jaebeom cringed at the nickname looking away. He messed with the tassels on the pillows. He could tell she was evading the response. He reached over and held her hand, giving it a squeeze. “Mom?”
Her mood changed and she snatched her hand away with a growl. Cigarette between her lips and the martini glass in one hand, she paced across the plush white carpet.
“Can you believe it?! I’m old news?! Me?! ‘The beauty of the century’, ‘timeless face’, ‘a rarity’. They said...I’m old news!”
Jaebeom’s mouth opened like a fish, no words forming. She hissed pointing to a stack of magazines on the glass coffee table. “Go have a look!”
He went over to the pile, sitting down on the couch, and picked up the copy of Italian Vogue. The cover, usually displayed with his mother, was replaced with another woman. She gave off a youthful and fresh vibe. The secret smirk across her face added to the glint in her eyes. Her skin a beautiful shade of golden honey, and hazel eyes sparkling under the sun. A determination he was sure his mother had lost over the years.
Not that he would admit that out loud.
He picked up the Vogue, the same woman. Then Elle...Harper’s Bazaar, Marie Claire, Vanity Fair, Allure, Neon—the very same woman graced all the covers.
“The-”
“The new Aphrodite! That’s what they’re calling that...that hussy!!” She screamed, tugging at her hair.
Jaebeom’s lips pressed together. “Who is she?”
She scoffed with a hiss. “Does it matter? I’m going to destroy her after all.” She gave her son a dubious look and rolled her eyes. “Fine. If you must know, her name is Psyche. Most likely a stage name. Either way, she’s going to wish she wasn’t born.”
Jaebeom set the magazines back down, clasping his hands behind his back. “What do you plan to do?”
She chuckled just as a few barks cut the air. Jaebeom groaned as two white Pomeranians bounced into the room yapping at the heels of his mother. She cooed, dropping to her knees holding out her glass for Jaebeom to take.
“My whittle babies. Were you missing mummy while you went nappy nap?” She purred scratching behind their ears. Tails wagging, they jumped onto her lap trying to lick her face.
She squished their faces, looking at Jaebeom. “Phobos and Deimos, say hello to your big brother. He’s gonna get rid of the mean old witchy for mummy.”
He placed the glass on the bar counter with a sigh. “You still haven’t said how you planned to do this.”
She reluctantly pulled away from her pets, walking over to fill their food bowls—the pebbles clinking against the golden dishes gently.
“Easy. I’m going to require your...expertise for this.” She leaned against the counter tapping the long stiletto shaped nails gently on the marble. “It’s quite simple. You’ll use your ‘persuasion’ to make her fall for the most vile creature.”
His brows raised disappearing under his fringe. “And how do you suppose I do that? Get her alone that is.”
“Hell if I know. You’re smart Jiffy Poo. You’ve never disappointed me yet,” she smiled reaching out to pinch his cheek, “and I don’t expect you to ever. Mummy knows best. Correct?” She removed her hand from his cheek walking back over her seat.
He rubbed the spot as his brows knit. What did he have to lose? His mother was the Goddess of Love after all. “Yeah, you know it all.”
But her jealousy made her into one of the worst people he’d ever come across. It was a wonder Zeus kept his distance.
“Of course I do darling,” she replied airily. Flipping her hair back she glanced in the mirror for a moment. “Now run along, you’ve got work to do. I’m going on a beauty renewal retreat with Athena...I mean Amber in Milan and I need to detox for the next few days,” she explained wincing at her reflection—though there was not a blemish or mark in sight. “I’ll be gone for two weeks and I expect the news about her to be scandalous.” She turned to her son with a frown. “Are we clear?”
“Yes, mother,” he said, slipping his glasses on and bidding her farewell.
^^^^
Psyche laid out on the pool chair, body angled perfectly for the camera. As the photographer clicked away, she’d move her head or hands switching positions. The teal and white bikini shaped her form well making her proportions longer.
“Beautiful! Beautiful! Tilt a little more...great! Stay like that babe. You’re killing me! Yes! Fucking hell you’re on fire!”
The assistant adjusted the reflector as the flashes went off. The creative director looked up from her screen with a grin. “We got the shots!”
A round of applause went off as everyone finished. Another assistant ran up to Psyche and handed her a bottle of water and a towel to wipe the sheen from her face.
“Thank you,” she said with a smile, her eyes twinkling brightly.
The young man blubbered as the bottle almost slipped from his fingers. He shoved it in her hands and ran off. Psyche gave a small pout before taking a sip.
The photographer ran up to her giving her air kisses on each cheek. “My muse!! Lovely job. We must work together soon.”
She blushed with a giggle. “I can’t thank you enough. It was a pleasure working with you. I’ll see you soon!”
She waved walking back into her private dressing room. The façade melted off her face as she collapsed into her chair with a groan.
“I’m so over this.”
She raised her head, gazing at her reflection curiously. Is this what all the fuss was about? Her face? She ran her fingers across her cheeks delicately, being mindful of the cosmetics. It was just a face, and a face people fawned over her for. So much trouble it caused. Too much attention. She ran her hands through the brown and honey tinted coils with a frown, another pout forming. Looks that made men weep or rather run from….literally.
Feeling quite sad for herself, she got up from her seat and went to change out of the bikini.
Unbeknownst to her, Jaebeom had disguised himself as one of the production assistants from the photoshoot. Having easily found out the location of the photoshoot—thank Zeus for Twitter—it didn’t take much to slip inside for the Sports Illustrated shoot. He found his victim, sprinkling the sleeping powder over them, and hid them behind some bushes. Changing his appearance was easy as he walked towards the dressing room where she would be. Jaebeom tiptoed in looking around and saw her back to him.
This is gonna be easier than I thought.
He pulled a slim container out with darts...times had certainly changed. Arrows were a thing of the past and bulky too. Each color signified a different emotion– white: admiration; pink: puppy love; red: lust and/or sensuality; purple: deep unselfconscious love. He pushed the thoughts away. Once this was over he’d be off to go about his business...until his mother needed him again.
All he had to do was make her fall for a vile creature as he struck her with a dart and she’d be taken care of. But as he reached for a dart, removing the cap, a phone rang out making her head pop out from the changing room curtain. The sound made Jaebeom jump and one of his darts slipped and pricked his finger.
“Shit!”
Psyche ran out of the changing room holding her flip-flops in one hand. Her eyes opened in surprise to see him standing there. He froze as their eyes met.
“Oh. Hello.” She chuckled, going to sit in her chair. “Did they still need me? I thought I was done for the day.”
He let out a breath. She thinks I work here. The disguise works!
“Uh–” He gulped as a wave of euphoria washed over him. Oh, fuck! Shit! Shit! Oh my Zeus I want her!
Sitting there in just a simple white tank top and shorts made her beauty stand out even more. His heart fluttered hard in his chest.
Stuttering, he glanced around trying to think of an excuse. He had to get away from her. Not when his emotions were so high. The effects of the dart were getting harder to fight. Psyche’s lips turned downward in a frown.
“Is everything alright?” she asked with care. “Are you coming down with something? I know it was extremely hot outside today.”
Jaebeom wanted nothing more than to profess his undying love for her at that moment. To wipe the frown from her face and wrap her in his arms. As he stepped forward, a voice cut into the hair.
“Psyche! Your ride is here!”
She let out a tiny gasp and slipped on her sandals. Grabbing her bag, she walked past him, laying her hand on his arm with a gentle squeeze. “Hope you feel better.”
As she exited the door, the smell of her perfume lingered in the air. Ylang Ylang, jasmine, and rosewood invaded his nostrils. He closed his eyes grasping at the scent not wanting to forget it.
I need her. I want her. She has to be in my life...I-I shit no! What am I doing?! I’m fucked…I want to worship the ground she walks on!!
Jaebeom quickly disappeared, waking the sleeping assistant as he left the site without being detected.
^^^^
“Daughter!”
Psyche let out an audible groan. Barely a minute she’d entered the house and she was being summoned by her father. A maid came in to retrieve her bag as she walked into the main foyer. Her father was sitting in his favorite chair playing cards with her oldest sister. Her other sister sat crossed leg on the couch stuffing her face with chocolates.
Lovely. They were here too.
Plastering a strained smile, she walked towards her father and placed a kiss on his cheek.
“Daddy, I thought you’d be in bed by now.”
“Nonsense! I wanted to make sure you arrived home safely.” He glanced at his eldest daughter with a nod. “Isn’t that right Jessica?”
She lifted her brow as she placed a card down on the table. “Quite,” she said, directing her gaze to Psyche. “How was your shoot, little sister?” She chuckled waiting for their father to make a move. “It would be pointless to ask though. You always do well.”
Psyche caught the slight edge in her voice but ignored it. Tonight, she wanted a peaceful interaction with her family that didn’t end in a screaming match...usually focused on her absence of a wedding ring.
Victoria sat up, wiping her fingers of smeared chocolate. “Oh, you won’t believe the news, Psy. I found the absolute perfect person for you.”
Here we go again.
“Victoria–” She began feeling the workings of a migraine form.
“Hear me out! He’s a close friend of my husband. Very wealthy, ivy league bred, and oh so handsome. He’s following in his father's footsteps to become a judge!” she gushed, bouncing on the couch, leaning over the back at Psyche.
The young woman bit down on her thumbnail. “I don’t know…”
“What have you got to lose? Time is dwindling down slowly,” Jessica edged, raising her brow.
She was baiting her. Psyche held back an insult as her father glanced at her with pleading eyes. “He’s a fair match for mi cielito. just consider it?”
She sighed with a reluctant nod. The subject wouldn’t be dropped and Psyche had no energy left to argue. “Alright. When am I meeting him?”
Her father beamed, setting his cards down with a flourish. “Tonight!”
Psyche sputtered looking around the room. “What? Tonight?!”
Victoria bounded off the couch, grabbing her hand. “Yes, we don’t have time. He’s arriving within the hour. Let’s get you dressed!”
Psyche’s jaw dropped in wordless surprise as she was dragged up the stairs to her room.
^^^^
Jaebeom paced across the hardwood floors muttering to himself. His mind was a jumbled mess. All he could think about was her. He groaned raking a hand through his hair as he looked out the window. All he could see was her. The part of his arm where she touched still felt warm. He shuddered remembering the smell of her perfume. It was intoxicating. He closed his eyes as he threw his head back. What he wouldn’t have given to be that close to her once more.
Jaebeom!”
His eyes snapped open with a start.
Jackson stood in the doorframe staring curiously at his friend. He shoved his hands in his pants pockets and leaned against the door casually. It seemed that there was a glow surrounding his body, well defined in the suit. The jacket undone, revealing a plain white shirt with ‘Gucci’ stamped across. Hair, a chestnut brown framed his face to show off his features. The God of the Sun was a man in all senses. Jackson was quite pleased with this new form.
He gave Jaebeom a strange expression. “You were moaning.”
Jaebeom's face reddened as he looked away. “I was?”
Jackson’s face cracked a grin that slowly turned into laughter. “Yes. I don’t even want to know what was going through your mind.”
Jaebeom let out a frustrated cry and slammed his fists onto the glass table. Resting his head there for a moment, he tried to gather his thoughts.
“I-I’m fucked Jackson,” he mumbled.
His friend’s lips turned down as he walked further in. He headed over to the cabinet and poured them each a drink. He closed the distance holding out the glass for him. “Take a sip, breathe, and tell me what’s going on.”
Jaebeom lifted his head and took the glass firmly into his hands. Taking tentative sips, he let the liquid wash over him. He gave Jackson a stare. “Ambrosia?”
Jackson winked. “Only the best.”
Jaebeom chuckled. “Ass kisser.”
Jackson laughed again, slapping a hand on his back. “Being the God of the Sun has its perks,” he replied nonchalantly.
Jaebeom muttered, “Bullshit. You’re one of his favorites.” He walked around the room with a grumble. “I’m like the bastard step child.”
“Welp you did screw him over one too many times with all those women,” Jackson teased.
Jaebeom swallowed the remainder of his ambrosia and grimaced. “He shouldn’t have fucked over my mom.”
“And there it is folks, Jaebeom’s is a mama’s boy!” Jackson yelled into the office.
“Shut up,” he snapped. “I am not,” he stuttered, looking down at the floor. “We just understand each other.”
“Sure,” Jackson replied, rolling his eyes. He cut a glance at his watch. “You’re stalling Jaebeom. You never stall. What’s going on?” He tapped his foot impatiently. “I have dinner plans with my wife.”
Jaebeom’s eyes watered as a cry threatened to spill out. He tugged at his hair feeling the effects of being too far from her.
“P-Psyche!”
Jackson frowned. “Who?”
“Psyche,” he repeated with a choke covering his face. “I-I was supposed to curse her for mother and I hit myself with one of my darts!” He pulled his hands down to glare at his friend. “I-I can’t live without her now.” He threw his hands in the air pacing around the couches. “Mother told me I had to take care of it before she gets back from her trip, but I can't let anything happen to her.” He gave Jackson a pleading look. “Help me!”
Jackson shook his head in disbelief. “Damn, you are fucked.” He let out a nervous chuckle. “What do you want me to do about it? This doesn’t seem like something I can help with.”
Jaebeom dropped to his knees with a wail. “Please! I don't know who else to ask.”
Shit.
Jackson spun around to look out the window surveying the skyline. He hated to see another friend in anguish. Hell, he was indebted to him. Had it not been for Jaebeom, he would have never met Daphne. He looked over his shoulder at his friend. The man looked positively undone. With a loud sigh, he walked over and bent down in front of him.
“I’ll do it.”
Jaebeom looked up with hopeful eyes. “R-Really?”
Jackson’s shoulders dropped with a groan. “I hate to see you like this.” Rubbing his eyes, he let out a sigh. “Alright, I’ll look into her life: family, likes, dislikes, etc. just be ready when I get back to you. I’ll call you later this week.”
He groaned staring at his watch. “Shit. Daphne is going to kill me!” He grabbed his keys off the table and ran for the door. “Lock up when you leave!”
Jaebeom let out a breath of relief and stared out the windows.
^^^
Psyche eyed the fork next to her plate. The urge to stab herself in her eye was overwhelming. Crap, anything to get her out of this dinner would suffice. After being practically treated like a Barbie doll, her sisters and father shoved her outside towards this man...if you would consider him one.
Oily would have been a better word to describe him. He couldn’t stop staring at her on their drive to the restaurant. Drowning on and on about his job.
“Of course I went to Harvard. Father would have had a heart attack if I went to Yale.”
Thankfully, the restaurant wasn’t far from her home and they were seated immediately after walking inside.
She took a long sip of her water and glanced over the menu. He’d been too busy looking in his reflection in one of the spoons to notice the server coming forward to greet them. Psyche chuckled nervously giving the server a look of apology.
“Nars?”
He fixed his hair in the spoon, making small kissing noises. Psyche frowned as her gaze hardened.
“Nars!” This time her tone was sharper.
He looked away begrudgingly. “Hmm? You were saying?”
She sighed, settling in her chair. “Our server is inquiring about drinks.”
He let out a huff of annoyance barely giving the poor man a glance. “Pellegrino with lemon. Lots of it.” He gave her a dazzling smile across the table. “I don’t put toxins into my body. Only clean living.”
His phone began to vibrate and held a finger up to answer the call.
Psyche gave another fake laugh. “That’s interesting.” As the server went to exit past her, she pulled on his coat tail. “Vodka and lime...double. Keep them coming.”
The server acknowledged her and walked off.
Nars ended his call and gave Psyche a wink. “Soooo, Victoria informed me you’re a model.”
Psyche nodded as their drinks came and she took a generous sip from her glass. She sighed happily. This was going to take all her patience...and liquor to get her through this trainwreck of a date.
“Yes, I model.”
Nars chuckled, drumming his hands on the table. “Must be nice to have a hobby.”
Psyche’s lips turned down staring at him. “I wouldn’t call it a hobby. It’s a job. A lifestyle. Though I sort of fell into it, I’ve learned to appreciate it.”
“Yeah. Yeah,” he nodded, not really listening. “Well, once you settle down, you won’t have to worry your pretty little self about it.”
Her cheeks burned as she shifted in her chair. Her shoe tapped against the leg of the table. The more she sat with him, the more she could see how bad this was going. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
Nars sighed reaching over to squeeze her hand, Psyche recoiling from his touch. He ignored her expression and continued talking. “It’s simple. When we get married you won't need to work. I’ll take care of the finances and you’ll take care of the household.”
Psyche snorted as she yanked her hand away from his. “I don’t know what world you’re living in, but I can assure you, we won’t be getting married.”
Nars froze giving her an odd look. Flustered, he tried to recover. “How can you say that, Psyche? Your father–”
“My father has nothing to do with anything,” her voice rising as she stood up. “But I know one thing, this disaster of a date is over and I’m leaving!”
She snatched her purse up and stormed out of the restaurant leaving Nars in a stupor. Everyone around the restaurant looked in surprise, whispering to each other.
In the divider next to Nar’s table, Jackson sat there with his wife. A bemused expression on his face. Daphne turned back in her chair to face him.
“Honey, what was that all about?”
Jackson chuckled while taking a sip of wine. “I haven’t the slightest clue.”
His eyes glinted in mischief. An idea already forming in his mind.
^^^
After that disastrous date—if you were to call it that—she went to walk around on the beach to clear her thoughts. Losing track of time, she barely had enough battery left to get a ride back home.
Psyche tipped the Uber driver and wished them a goodnight before walking into her home. The sun had already begun to rise. She glanced at her watch and winced. She’d been out all night.
She slipped off her heels placing them in her hand as she walked up to her room, making sure not to make a sound. A sigh of relief passed her lips as she walked by the living room. No one was there.
Good. Everyone should still be in bed.
She took the steps two at a time going to the end of the hall towards her room. Luckily, the rest of the doors were shut so no one would know she went by. Her posture relaxed as she pushed her door open to the darkened room. Just then, the lamp ner her dresser clicked on. She jumped in surprise to see her father sitting by the window.
“Hello, mi cielito.”
“Papi,” she cried, clutching her chest. “You scared me!” Psyche breathed for a moment collecting her thoughts. Confusion passed her face. “Wait. Why are you in my room?”
He crossed his arms over his chest staring at her in disappointment. “You know how long I stayed awake waiting for you to come home?” He grunted as he rose from his position. “I thought maybe you and Nars hit it off and were getting to know each other more and lost track of time. But to my surprise, he calls Victoria livid that you walked out on your date with him after hurling some insults.”
“Papi, I–”
“–I say ‘No mi cielito, she’s my angel’. But then you wouldn’t answer your phone.”
Psyche shook her head, “Listen, I went for a walk and lost track of time. I barely had enough battery to get back home. Seriously,” she babbled before her temper flared. “I did him a favor. He was the worst human being I’ve ever come across. I would rather do a photoshoot in the dead of winter than see Nars again!”
“That’s it!” Her father roared making her tremble. He stomped his foot, stalking towards her. “We tried this the easy way Psyche, but you’re breaking our hearts,” he growled. “You’re going to see a matchmaker. Tonight!”
“But–”
“I don’t want to hear it. We leave in the evening!” He pushed past, slamming the door behind her.
^^^
“So let me get this straight, I have to pretend to be a matchmaker that uses the stars to find her match?”
Jackson blinked at Daphne helping her with the costume. “When you put it that way, it sounds ridiculous.”
She adjusted the dress tying back the straps and gave him a bemused smirk. “Well honey, it does.” She walked over to the mirror to adjust her lipstick. “I mean why can’t Jaebeom just tell her how he feels? Why the whole song and dance?”
Jackson sighed out loud combing through his hair. “Dumpling, we talked about it. He can’t unless she comes willingly. Her heart has to be open to the possibility.”
Besides, he’s under the influence of his darts, that dumbass.
Daphne brushed her hair into a bun and shrugged. “Whatever you say, dear. I’ll help. Plus I’m tired of him moping around our house. I miss our privacy.”
Jackson chuckled reaching down to kiss her forehead gently. “Me too. We help Jaebeom, we get our place back.”
A knock came from the door making them part. Jackson smiled giving her a once-over. “Showtime. just remember what we discussed and it all will go according to the plan.”
Daphne pressed a quick kiss to his lips and ran from the back room into the main area. She looked impressed at how quickly Jackson was able to change their living room. It almost reminded her of those little psychic shops around the city.
She walked over to the door opening it with a smile. Psyche and her father stood in the doorway, one smiling with the other scowling.
Daphne gestured wide. “Come in! Come in! Please. I’ve been expecting you. Welcome!”
Psyche’s father pulled her inside as he looked around. “Thank you for seeing us on such short notice.”
Daphne tsked, leading them to the couches. “Nonsense. I always have time for a match.” She replied, taking a seat. Psyche’s father nodded with a wide grin, taking a spot on the couch next to Psyche. Psyche crossed her legs staring hard across the coffee table. “Let’s just get this over with.”
Daphne smirked. “Very well. We shall go into the back room and I will give you guidance–”
“I would like to be present,” her father interjected.
Daphne frowned. “That’s not how it works sir.” She chuckled, grabbing the teapot and poured a cup of tea. “There are many ways to give her results so we shall see.” Daphne pushed the cup towards Psyche with a reassuring smile. “Drink, but don’t swallow the dregs of the leaves. This is how I will be able to see you are supposed to be matched with.”
Psyche muttered as she grabbed the cup. This was ridiculous. The only reason she even agreed to this was so her father would stop pressing her about marriage.
This probably won’t do anything. She won’t come up with a match.
Psyche sipped the tea, grimacing at the bitter notes. Swallowing it in three big gulps, she shoved the cup to Daphne and sat back on the couch.
Daphne took the cup and swirled the tea dregs, whispering to herself. She let out a cry, almost dropping the cup. Her eyes widened as she stared at Psyche.
“In a fortnight, you’ll meet your fate. Under the Rose moon in black garments, you’ll meet your true love...or suffer.”
Daphne instantly dropped against the couch. Psyche’s father ran over to her in attempt to wake her. “Señora? Señora, are you alright?”
Daphne’s eyelids fluttered as she looked from Psyche to her father. “Forgive me, I...I lost myself for a moment.”
“No, no! You opened my eyes. We will listen to your words, right mi cielito?” He glanced at his daughter.
Psyche remained still on the couch. Her mind is running wild. What on earth did that woman mean? This was crazy. Too crazy to even comprehend. She didn’t know why, but a sense of dread fell over her. This wouldn’t end well. And she was positive her father wouldn’t take this message seriously.
#kwritersworldnet#kpopwritingnet#kreativewritersnet#jb#jaebeom#im jaebeom#got7#jb x reader#jb x you#jb x y/n#jb x oc#jaebeom x reader#jaebeom x you#jaebeom x y/n#jaebeom x oc#got7 x reader#got7 x you#got7 x y/n#got7 x oc#jb romance#jb fantasy#jb adventure#jb drama#jb s2l#jb greek god#jaebeom romance#jaebeom fantasy#jaebeom adventure#jaebeom drama#jaebeom greek god
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NOISE COMPLAINT
PAIRING: HOSEOK X Y/N
GENRE: ONE SHOT | SMUT | SLIGHT FLUFF |
WORD COUNT: 1.8K
WARNINGS: UNPROTECTED SEX
A/N: I WROTE THIS AGES AGO FOR A FRIEND AND I KEPT COMING BACK TO IT ... SORRY FOR BEING ON HIATUS IT’S BEEN GETTING HARDER FOR ME WRITE THESE LAST COUPLE OF MONTHS BUT I WANT TO GET BACK INTO IT BC I LOVE IT... EVEN THOUGH THIS ISN’T MY BEST WORK I WANT TO GET BACK INTO THE SWING OF THINGS SO PLEASE BE PATIENT WITH ME...
A/N/N: PLEASE PRACTICE SAFE SEX!!!
Your fists pound on the mahogany door .… it’s owner was just as thick headed … Lee Hoseok was your building’s newest and loudest tenant… this is the third time this week you’ve had to march your way to his apartment in the middle of the night to asked him to keep it down… you huff in frustration at his moot response turning the knob and resolving yourself on scaring him quiet… pushing your way into the apartment you’re met with a cladly dressed Lee Hoseok … his chest is exposed in his fluffy robe and his hair is wet from a shower… you have to remind yourself to breath… “I uh” your mouth slightly agape… “Cat got your tongue?” he quips… his voice is silky smooth, but you can hear the amusement … “I uh came to ask you to please keep it down but you didn’t reply so I decided to march right in and teach you a lesson you know it’s really your fault for not locking your doors” you babble…your cheeks flushed and your skin heating under his tantalizing gaze… “is that so” he muses pursing his lips and taking a step back from you seemingly affected by your close proximity...
“In that case I should return the favor?” he cocks his head to the side eyeing you playfully … you take a step back… “You can repay me by keeping it down” you huff crossing your arms and leaning against the door… He takes a step towards you placing a hand on each side of your head …. his body inches away from you… “I was thinking like coffee ” he chirps… “Maybe another time” you reply eager to get back to your own apartment and away from Hoseok’s tantalizing charm and God like physique … “You sure? I mean you did technically break and enter” he teases … his laugh is like honey and you can feel your knees growing weak and your breath hitching… you keep yourself rooted to the floor trying to remain upright… the warmth radiating off of him mixing with your arousal… Hoseok’s face is eye level with your own ...his lips inches from yours…you try to regulate your breathing and meet his gaze defiantly… he bites his lip aware of the effect he has on you… “can I kiss you?” … his voice is husky … you manage a nod before he closes the gap between your bodies… his mouth tastes minty… his hands cup you face as his tongue swipes across your bottom lip asking for entrance… your hands weave in his damp hair… eager to taste more of him… he presses you against the door pinning both of your hands above your head while the other trails along your frame toying with the hem of your shirt and pushing it up your stomach and clean off your body… “no bra?” he quips hungry eyes scanning your exposed top half … your nipples stand at attention under his smoldering gaze… your cheeks are flushed and your skin feels too hot for you to think straight… on impulse you hook one hand in your sleep shorts and shimmy them down your legs… while the other pulls Hoseok to you connecting your lips once more… your fingers fiddle with his robe untying the string and palming him … his member stands at attention against his toned stomach … you graze your thumb across the tip eliciting a moan from him…
He flips you around your front pressed against the cool mahogany door to his apartment … you bite your lip as he continues to trail kisses across your shoulder blades his hardness pressed against your clothed ass…. You grind your backside into him suppressing a moan at the anticipation of having him inside you… as if on cue he turns you to face him and connecting your lips in heated kiss… you gasp into the kiss tangling your hands in his hair once more while he grips your hips tapping your bum… you wrap your legs around him still pressed against the door he grinds himself into you …his member pressed against your clothed heat… you bite your lip a small whine escaping your lips… Hoseok peers at you through thick lashes... his adam's apple bobbing ... he runs his tongue along your lower lip once more his mouth connecting with yours and you sigh... his mouth feels so good like a soothing balm ... you’re more desperate for him whining and grinding into him the added friction doing little to placate the ache inside of you...
“I bet you’d sound heavily moaning under me” he coos…voice thick with lust … a tantalizing heat runs through you making the hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention … his lips trailing small sucks and kisses along your jugular and nipping at your collarbones teetering at the tops of your exposed breasts…. “I --- don’t moan” you whisper sounding weak and wanting even to your own ears… a smirk tugs at the corner of your lips… tit for tat you think to yourself… pressing your breast flush against his front with new resolve … he susks on your nipple his teeth tugging on the perk bud and you crane your neck to give him more access “Well then you’ve never had amazing sex” he replies … the yearning and lust pools in the pit of your stomach …your body responding to his advances at it’s own accord grinding yourself into him and trailing open mouthed sucks along his neck and collarbones as his fingers trace small circles into your hips before caressing your bum …. your mouths intertwine in a sensual battle for dominance… one that you lose before pulling away for a breath…. Hoseok presses an urgent kiss to your lips… pleading with you …. your body ignites with every open-mouthed kiss grinding into him with fervor …the carnal promise and hunger radiating from his naked form enticing you further… giving into the fever you press your lips to his …
fingers intertwining themselves in his hair as Hoseok carries you to the bedroom ... you ache to be closer still… the wet spot in your panties being the only barrier between you and Hoseok’s body… you wrap legs around him tighter still bringing him towards you as he lays you down on the bed… his bare chest is littered with your kisses and almost glistening underneath the warm light of his bedside lamp… You’ve done this before you conclude… the fleeting thought of regret crosses your mind before it’s eclipsed by his kisses across your navel … his hands slide into your panties caressing your bum his deft fingers toy with the lace undergarment before sliding it down your legs kissing along the apex of your thighs before discarding It delicately on the floor… “Hmm” He hums delighted at your exposed body …his lips inching their way from the valley of your breasts towards the apex of your thighs while his deft fingers paint lazy figure eights across your engorged clit ... your hips buck into his palm …. muscles tensing and head swimming... his hips press against your own and you bite your lip to suppress the moan…
The irony is not lost on you… you “I want you” your voice sounds ragged and whiny to your own ears… but you are too needy to care… your skin burning and your walls clenching around nothing … he eyes you curiously placing a chaste kiss on your lips and trailing along your navel before finally reaching your glistening slit and lapping at your wetness with his tongue before his wet muscle weaves its way into your heat… your walls clench around his tongue and you can’t hold back a small sigh of pleasure… he continues to tease you poking his tongue in and out as you weave your hands in his hair pressing him deeper into you fucking his face… your hips bucking into him as he tweaks your hardened buds with his fingers… the ache inside of you coiling at his expert ministrations… “ I want to cum around your cock” you slur unsure if he understood you… Hoseok’s head stills his cheeks pink and lips red and glossy with your wetness… you pull him to you kissing him hard and deep tasting yourself on his tongue and wishing to taste more of him…
“Pleassss” you wheeze unable to articulate more… he nods lining himself with you and sliding into you … you both moan in unison as fills you to the brim… his member stretching you deliciously… tears sting the backs of your eyes as you moan louder for him to hear how good he makes you feel… once he’s bottomed out inside of you he stills… you whine eager for him to move. “so you do moan” he quips before placing a chaste kiss to your forehead … then he starts to move… his thrusts are langued and deep at first setting a rhythm… your head is swimming and your lips capture his desperate for more … you start to meet him thrust for thrust your hips snapping .. no doubt you will be sore tomorrow … the sound of skin on skin and heavy breathing encapsulates the room… your hands trail along his broad shoulders and along his toned back your nails digging into his cream skin… Hoseok’s hands massage your breasts, his lips adorning your chest and breasts with cherry blossoms … his lips enrapturing your own sucking on your lower lip and biting down as his he bucks his hips into you gut wrenchingly deep…you cry out pleasure wrecking your body once more digging half-moons along his back as you cling to him your impending orgasm clouding your vision… “together” is the only thing you hear before he speeds his thrusts… his member twitching inside you seconds before you both cum with guttural moans …. Your mangled breaths hitching, and you hold onto one another as pleasure ravishes your body which has become one…
Do you think we’ll get a noise complaint Hoseok asks meekly… his fingers tracing patterns on your hand as you lay side by side too spent to move quite yet… “Mm not sure” you reply matter of factly… “But I should go” you announce not wanting to break this moment but realizing that’s all this is … a moment… “ can you please stay” he replies almost pleading with you… you turn to meet his gaze… the lust in his eyes now scarce … having been replaced with childlike wonder … your heart skips a beat… “I…” …. “I want to hold you” he whines inching closer … you’re still spent from your high and too proud to admit that you want it too… so you give in and let him wrap you in his arms his heat placating you…. “Y/N?” Hoseok is the first to break the silence… “hmm?” you grunt... too relaxed to articulate words… “ You sound angelic moaning under me ” hoseok whispers his breath is hot against your ear and your cheeks flush… “ and I want to hear you do it again” ….
A/N: I’M A PROUD SIMP FOR WONHO... YOU GUYS PLEASE SUPPORT HIM !!! HE’S DEBUTING AS A SOLOIST !! WENEE AND MONBEBE LET’S SUPPORT OUR BOY!!!
#Kpopwritingnet#kpopwonderlandtag#ksmutclub#kwritersworldnet#WENEE#WONHO#shin hoseok#lee hoseok#WONHO IS PERFECT#WONHO SMUT#WONHO ONE SHOT#WONHO FLUFF#KPOP SMUT#MONSTA X SMUT#monsta x is 7#OT7 SUPPORT#WENEE AND MONBEBE#NOT BTS BUT JUST AS TALNTED AND WORTHY OF LOVE AND RECOGNITION
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Instincts (M)
Summary: Who wants a snow leopard as a pet? No one, and you don’t want to be a pet, but the day before you’re supposed to be euthanized you’ll take what you can get; a nice enough man, but something about him seems off.
Pairing: Snow Leopard!Jimin x Reader
Genre: Smut, FLUFF, hybrid AU
Word Count: 8.3k
TW: Death mention, kidnapping, masturbation, rutting, heats, doggystyle, light dirty talk, breeding talk, rough sex, multiple orgasms, virgin!Jimin
They all walk right past you. They see what you are and immediately move on. No one wants a leopard hybrid as a pet. No matter how cute you act, or how small and harmless you make yourself look, they all leave, they move onto the actually harmless puppies and kittens and rabbits that are cuddly and soft and sweet. No one wants what's known on the news as ‘dangerous’.
You gave up caring a while ago, and you know the shelter gave up as well, your thirteenth shelter, so much so that tomorrow you’re meant to be euthanized. It’s stupid honestly, that one little law change could you affect you in such a way. You’re seen as something to be owned instead of a real person; and if someone doesn’t adopt you today, you won’t even be that.
You sit in the back of your cage with your knees pulled into your chest, silent tears slipping down your cheeks as you watch the hours tick by, knowing it’s pointless to hope. As people walk by, they peek into your cage, but when they read your information tag, they smile sadly and continue walking, oohing and ahhing at whoever’s in the cage next to you.
You know nothing’s going to change, so you don’t even move to acknowledge the humans that do linger at your cage, trying to get your attention. You wallow in your self pity until your ears twitch as you pick up the sound of your least favorite volunteer, Haeun.
“...We have plenty of other nicer hybrids sir.”
“I want to see her.” The man insists.
“Very well.” Then Haeun appears in front of your cage with a man. He looks strange; a bit chubby with a mask over his mouth and a hat pulled down low over his eyes. His eyes… something about them seems off. “Here she is. This is Y/N, our snow leopard hybrid.”
“Hey girl.” He whispers, sticking his fingers through the cage.
“I wouldn’t do that.” Haeun scolds. “She has a tendency to scratch.”
You hiss, but it’s directed at Haeun, not the man and he knows that. Him you move closer to, trying to get a better look at; something about him screams ‘fake’.
He observes you closely, probably taking in the sight of your tear stained cheeks as his face softens. “Do you want to come home with me?” He asks. Your eyes light up at the prospect and you grab the bars of your cage nodding. The man seems nice enough, and he’s plump so he’ll probably feed you well. And more than anything, you want to live. “Alright, let’s go.”
Haeun scoffs. “Are you sure you want this one?”
The man glares at her. “Don’t you have a job to do? Open the cage.”
Haeun rolls her eyes, but relents, taking the key off her belt and unlocking the door to your cage, freeing you for the first time in what feels like years. You tentatively step out, wanting to make sure it’s actually real. Haeun goes to slap a leash on your chain collar, but the man stops her.
“I don’t think that’s necessary, do you?”
“It’s protocol.” She spits.
“Skip protocol for once.”
“Whatever. You have to put one on before you leave.”
“That’s fine. Do you have any collars for sale?”
Haeun sighs. “This way. We have to finish your registration first.” She walks out into the lobby and the man allows you to go first, following behind you closely. It doesn’t take much time to complete your registration, and when all the paperwork is over, Haeun leads you both over to the shop with collars and leashes and toys.
“Pick whichever one you want.” The man says, pointing to the collars. You have to admit, the thought of actually getting out of this place and having a human to call your own makes your stomach flutter. You’d never been one to crave ownership, but being alone for so long, so deep into the pit of despair, this small flicker of hope has a shred of light peek through your dark heart.
You observe the collars closely, finally deciding on a white leather collar with a heart charm dangling from it. You point to it and the man nods in agreement.
“The white one please.”
Haeun scoffs again. “That one’s pretty expensive.”
“It doesn’t matter. Here.” The man slaps his credit card on the counter. “Ring it up. And get the matching leash for it too.”
Haeun obliges with an expression of scorn, ringing it up and then handing him the receipt to sign. She grabs the collar and leash, handing it to him in exchange for the receipt. He pretty much throws the receipt at her which makes you giggle, and when she gets it, she clears her throat.
“Um, excuse me. Are you leaving a tip in cash? There isn’t one on here.”
“Because you don’t deserve it.” The man’s eyes light up with a smirk, making Haeun gasp and storm away from the counter. The man turns to you and removes your cold chain collar, letting it hit the floor with a harsh clank before holding up the white one to you. “Turn for me?” You nod, turning around and pulling your hair out of the way as he fastens the leather around your neck. “Is that too snug?” He asks when he’s finished. You shake your head and turn back to face him. “Wow, what a pretty kitty you are.” You can see his smile reach his eyes, his face still hidden behind his mask as he fastens the matching leash to your collar. “Let’s get you home, yeah?”
You nod enthusiastically and he leads you out of the shelter and across the parking lot to his car. He lets you sit in the front seat, which is unusual to you. Maybe this man treats hybrids like humans? The prospect excites you.
It’s a bit of a drive back to the man’s house, he lives deep in the mountains of Gangwon Province near Taebaek Mountain, but the high altitude and cold climate suit your needs perfectly. Finally you’ll get to run around in the snow again, that’s all you really want.
As you drive, you doze off in the passenger seat, only waking up when the man gently shakes your shoulder, stating that you’ve arrived at your destination. You sit up and look out the car window to see snow capped peaks surrounding you. You look at the man for permission and he nods, unlocking the car so you can jump out and dive into a snow drift, squealing with glee.
“Alright, let’s get you settled, then you can come out and play.” The man laughs, helping you up out of the snow and leading you into his house. You take your shoes off and wait in the entryway for his instructions. He laughs and waves you over to the kitchen. “Do you want anything to drink? Water, juice, beer?”
“Water, please.” You answer, bowing your head a bit.
He nods and walks over to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water and then bringing it over to hand it to you. You accept it gratefully and twist off the top, taking a large swig as you watch the man. He takes off his hat, revealing a mess of fluffy blonde hair and… wait, ears? You nearly drop your bottle as you stare at the spotted white fur adorning the top of his head, fur that looks surprisingly similar to yours.
“What…”
“You don’t talk much, do you?” He asks, ruffling his hair, his ears twitching.
“I-I was taught not to talk in a human’s presence unless asked.”
“Well,” He starts, taking off his jacket to reveal a long thick tail that was being used to puff up the inside of the jacket to make him appear chubby, when in reality, his white t shirt and black jeans cling to his lithe form, showing off his muscles quite nicely. “As you can tell, I’m not human, so no need for formalities noona.”
“N-noona?” You stare at the slowly transforming man before you, confused beyond belief.
“You don’t recognize me yet?” He inquires. “I shouldn’t be surprised, it’s been almost sixteen years.” The man walks over to the sink and messes with his face. He takes off his mask, but it isn’t until you see the contact lense case in his hand that you realize what he’s doing. No wonder his eyes looked so weird.
When he turns back to you, his eyes are the traditional greenish-yellow that are common amongst all snow leopards. It isn’t until you take in the features of his face; his plump lips, his crescent moon eye smile; that it hits you.
“Jimin…”
He smiles happily. “Hi noona.”
Your brain suddenly flashes back to the last time you saw him. You’re sitting outside by the swings as it snows, comforting Jimin after a few of your brother’s friends made fun of his ears for being too big. You hold him close, his tears finally having stopped as you comfort him with your purr, when a strange truck pulls up next to the park and a human man gets out.
Your brother, Jiwon, walks over to make sure Jimin’s okay, cursing his friends for being so rude, just as you see the tarp covering the truck bed lift up in the breeze, revealing a cage. The strange man walks closer and a low growl rumbles in your chest, alerting Jiwon that something’s wrong. His ears perk up and his head whips around to see the human. The two of you immediately move to stand in front of Jimin as protection; while your brother is sixteen and at least a little bit intimidating, you’re only eight, and while you’re tall for your age, you’re not that tall.
“Can I help you sir?” Jiwon asks the man as he comes to a halt in front of the three of you.
“I believe you might be able to yes.” The man snickers. “Are your parents around?”
Jiwon takes a deep breath before puffing out his chest. “They’ll be back in a second.” He lies. Your parents are at your house around the corner. They know where you are but they can’t see you.
“Perfect.”
Before you can register what’s happening, the man lunges forward and grabs both you and Jiwon by the scruffs of your necks, rendering you immobile as he yanks you in the direction of his truck. You let out an ear piercing scream as you and Jiwon try to wrench yourselves free. As the man tosses you into one of the cages, Jiwon manages to wrench free, but he doesn’t get very far as the man grabs his tail and pulls him back. You look up, terrified to see Jimin hasn’t moved an inch, and as soon as Jiwon is tossed into his own cage, the man’s attention turns to the cub.
“Jimin! Run!” You scream as the man sprints in his direction. At the sound of your voice, Jimin takes off up the sidewalk, and rounds the corner in the blink of an eye. The man shrugs and gets into his truck, starting it and pulling away as you and your brother cry out for help, the last thing you see before you disappear is Jimin’s head peeking out from behind the neighbors fence, terrified.
You forget about the water bottle in your hands, dropping it as you rush over, practically knocking Jimin over as you wrap yourself around him in a tight embrace. “Jimin!” Your voice cracks as tears of joy begin to slip down your cheeks.
Jimin hugs you back, his arms lifting you and carrying you over to the couch. He sits down, letting you sit in his lap when you refuse to let go as you soak his shirt with your emotions. He holds you tightly, rubbing your back soothingly in understanding.
“Do you even know how long it took me to find you?” He asks after a minute, his own voice breaking as he pulls your face back to look at you, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “I never thought I’d see you again. I couldn’t help but think that they already…” He trails off as his thumb brushes a tear from your cheek.
Your lip trembles as you smile at him before burying your face in his neck as happy sobs wrack your body. You breathe deeply, both trying to calm yourself down, and trying to inhale as much of his scent as you can. A rumbling in your chest quickly turns into a loud purr, deep in your throat as you rub your cheek against Jimin’s, scenting him. He chuckles at your actions as he returns your purr, possibly even louder than your own as he pulls you as close as he can get you.
You were holding him much like this sixteen years ago when it all started. You lived on top of a snowy peak and your house was one of about six different families of snow leopards. You went to a school not far from your house where you were intermixed with humans and other species of hybrids. Everything was peaceful and you were all happy just living your lives until one of your human classmates father’s found out his child was in a school with no less than three snow leopard hybrids, and according to him, that was unacceptable.
About a week after your abduction, a law passed stating that hybrids were no longer people, they were animals and should be treated as such. A few days later, then man holding you captive sold you as a pet. You were nasty, you trashed the homes of the first few families that bought you and then bounced between shelters and families. This continued for sixteen years up until today when you were supposed to be euthanized for being ‘feral’. You weren’t feral, you just didn’t want to live as someone’s pet.
“I should’ve looked for you sooner. I should’ve tried harder. I shouldn’t have let them take you!” He mumbles into your hair.
“You were just a cub.” You remind him.
“So were you!” He whines. “But you protected me!”
“I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if anything happened to you.” You whisper, wrapping your arms tightly around Jimin, doing your best to soothe and calm him.
“I should’ve tried harder.” Jimin protests.
“Chim, you found me. You. No one else. You.”
“But Y/N-”
You silence him with your tail. “I don’t want to hear it.”
After a few moments, he whispers again. “I’m so glad I found you noona.”
You hum happily as you rest your face in the crook of his neck, your tears finally halting. You inhale deeply, only to realize that while the underlying scent is still one hundred percent Jimin, there’s an unfamiliar note lingering on top that you don’t recognize.
“You smell different…” You state, sitting up and looking down at Jimin from where you’re perched on his lap.
“I would hope so.” He affirms. “I did go through puberty while you were gone.”
He’s right. Jimin is no longer the sweet six year old you used to babysit. While his cherubic cheeks and perfect smile remain the same, he’s finally grown into his abnormally large ears; his hands are still relatively small, but they’re bigger than yours now; his face is more defined, and he’s more on the handsome side than the cute side now. As your hands rest on his shoulders, you realize just how muscular he’s grown to be, lithe and toned, doing well to fill out his clothes, the thighs you sit on nice and thick.
“Noona, you’re staring…” He whines, squirming beneath your scrutiny.
“I-I’m sorry I’m just… I can’t believe you’re all grown up now.” You state, as you climb off his lap and sit on the couch next to him.
“Well, not all grown up. I’m only twenty two.”
“Grown enough to live by yourself.” You point out.
“Not by choice. Besides, I’m not alone anymore.” He insists with a sweet smile.
You return his grin until a thought crosses your mind. “Jimin… How did you end up here? By yourself?”
Jimin sighs deeply before beginning. “Well after what happened, my parents and your parents left the group you know? So I had to go with them. I moved to a new school for hybrids and then the law was passed, so when they were taken, I was alone. I dropped out of school and moved out here to start looking for you.”
“They were… taken?” You whisper. You always figured something had happened to your parents after the law was passed, but you had no way of knowing until now.
Jimin’s face darkens when he realizes what he’s said. “Y/N, I’m so sorry… I followed the people that took them, but…” He trails off and you know exactly what he means. “But what about Jiwonie hyung? He could still be out there somewhere, right?” Jimin adds hopefully. “We could look for him and-”
“No…” You mumble, knowing exactly what happened to him. “He’s not…”
Jiwon fought harder for his freedom than you when you were first captured. He scratched up one handler and bit the other two, leading to them decide he wasn’t fit to be sold and they gave up on him. He was shot in the head. You couldn’t even get to him because you were stuck in a goddamn cage. You just watched him die, inches from your touch. The light left his eyes so fast, his blood rapidly forming a pool around him until they sent someone to clean up and dispose of his body.
“Was it… Was it bad?” Jimin probes, not wanting to upset you.
“No, it was quick… He didn’t suffer.”
“Noona, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay Jimin.” You offer him a small smile, the best you can do at the moment. “At least I have you.”
“You’ll always have me noona.”
It’s been a few weeks since Jimin rescued you. You quickly fell back into friendship with each other as though you were never apart. You spend your days playing out in the snow, snoozing in warm sun-lit spots, watching tv, and playing video games. After sixteen years, you’re finally at peace again. You’re even gaining a little weight from all the delicious meals Jimin cooked for you, but it makes you happy, having been starved most of your life.
You can’t deny that having Jimin back has sparked some sort of feeling inside you. You’re not sure if it’s because it’s been so long since you were last touched by someone else, or if it’s because it’s Jimin, but your hormones are going crazy, and you just know your heat is going to cause trouble.
Your first heat came when you were eighteen, and since it was your first, the foster family you were in at the time was nice enough to find a male and allow you a week in a room alone with him until your heat was finally over. The male, a Jaguar named Hyunwoo, was pushed into his first rut by your scent and the two of you spent the entire week in bed. He was gentle and unsure, but he wasn’t bad, and you two were friends until he was adopted and you were sent back to the shelter. For a few heats, some shelters were nice enough to let you ride them out with a partner, but most weren’t that kind, and you would often find yourself lying in your cage, in pain, bleeding on everything because they wouldn’t let you out; you were too ‘dangerous’.
You can only hope Jimin has control of his ruts; your pre-heat started a few days ago and by the way it’s already knocking you down for the count, you can tell it’ll be rough, not only for you, but for any males around you.
Today you’re curled up on the couch mid afternoon, only half paying attention to whatever show is on as your eyes drift open and closed, already tired from the energy being drained from you in your body’s preparation
Jimin’s at work; he’s part of a group that rescues and liberates hybrids from shelters, and he shouldn’t be home until later that night, at least, that’s what you think until you hear the front door open. You bolt upright, your anxiety shooting through your nerves until you look over and see it is, in fact, just Jimin.
“Chim?”
“Hey…” He grumbles.
“What are you doing home? I thought you were working?”
“I was, but…” He stumbles over to the couch and practically falls down next to you. “I just suddenly started to feel so awful.”
“Awful how?” You ask as you sit up, cradling his head as he situates himself in your lap.
“I’m so dizzy. And I have this… God, this awful pain in my stomach. I must’ve eaten something.”
You rest the back of your hand against his forehead to find that his skin is on fire. “Jimin, I think you have a fever.”
“God, just what I need.”
“Let me get you some medicine-”
“No, stay. I feel better already next to you.” He purrs softly, inhaling your scent deeply. “Noona you smell so good today.” He mumbles into your shirt, burying his nose in your stomach.
“I’m glad my scent can help soothe your woes.” You joke, running your fingers through his blonde hair. “Oh! You know what I realized today?”
“What’s that?”
“I missed your first rut!” You whine.
“Uh…”
“It made me so upset! I bet you were a real asshole.”
“N-not really.”
“You weren’t? I find that hard to believe.” You tease.
“N-no.” Jimin shakes his head. “I mean… You didn’t miss it.”
“Miss what? I know you’re still an asshole and all, but-”
“No, noona. My first rut. You didn’t miss it.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“It hasn’t happened yet.”
You stare down at him, bewildered. “Are… are you serious? Jimin. You’re twenty two.”
Jimin shrugs as he sits up. “I’ve basically been on my own since I was six. After I dropped out of school, I was busy looking for you, so I was never around any girls and I guess it just never happened.”
You stare at him in shock until you put the pieces together and a smile cracks your lips. “Oh god… Chim, I know why you don’t feel good.” You state, slipping out from under his head and standing, wanting to get away from him a bit to help.
“What? Come back, I was comfortable.” He pouts.
“Jimin, you’re about to rut.”
“What??” His eyes go wide as he sits up. “What are you-”
“I started my pre-heat a few days ago.” You can’t help but giggle as you explain. “I think… I think I pushed you into it.”
He waves you off. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“Dizziness, stomach pain, clinginess. It all fits the symptoms of a first rut.”
“Wait, so you’re…” Jimin visibly gulps. “You’re going into heat??” You nod. “Have you done that before?”
You can’t help but scoff. “Of course silly. I’ve been in shelters my whole life. I got my first one when I was eighteen.”
“O-oh right…” He whispers, seemingly ashamed. You’re worried. Could you hurt Jimin, if he doesn’t know how to control himself? Or if worse comes to worse, could you sleep with Jimin and help each other out?
“I think we should stick to opposite ends of the house until it’s over.” You suggest. “Or maybe I’ll just sleep in the car.”
“What? No.” Jimin growls. “It’s fine. We’ll be fine, right? We can control it.”
“Yeah, I guess we can try. I’ll just have to run to the store and get some things.”
“Okay, I’ll go to the store tomorrow if you make a list.”
“Uhh…” You hesitate. “These are probably things I should buy for myself.”
“But you don’t have a disguise yet. I don’t want anyone to hurt you.” Jimin whines as he grabs your hand and pulls you back toward the couch.
You sigh. Damnit. He’s right. You could get thrown back in a shelter without a proper disguise. “Alright. I’ll make a list, but you might want to get some headphones too.”
“Headphones?” He eyes you curiously as you sit back down next to him. “What for?”
“Just… trust me.”
The next morning, you’re woken up by a sharp pang in your lower abdomen. Shit. It’s here. You can’t help the low groan that leaves your lips as the full force of your heat sweeps through your body. You immediately toss the covers aside, hot beyond belief as you try to slow your breathing, but it doesn’t work and you start to pant, the arousal swirling in your gut almost too much to handle as your senses of touch and smell are heightened.
“Oh god oh god oh fuck.” You whimper, clenching your thighs together in an attempt to soothe the ache between them. You’re so wrapped up in your feelings that you don’t notice the knock on your door until you hear the doorknob twist open. No. “Jimin no!” You squeak.
“N-noona?” You hear as the doorknob twists back into place.
“You can’t come in! Please… Please don’t come in…” He can’t see you like this.
“Is everything okay? You’re not hurt are you?”
You chuckle to yourself at his innocence. “Jimin, I need you to go to the store.”
“The sto- Is it here??” He suddenly sounds panicked.
“Ye-ees…” You half whine, half moan.
“O-okay, give me your list!”
Shit. You forgot to make one before you went to bed. You hastily grab a piece of paper and a pen out of your nightstand, but your overwhelming instincts make it hard for you to concentrate. Focus. Okay, you’ll need pads in case you bleed, snacks, lots of water, heat suppressant if he can find it to help with the side effects, and maybe… No. God you can’t put that on the list, what’s wrong with you? You immediately scratch it out and then fold up your paper. You stand and walk over to the door, slipping the paper underneath it to Jimin. “Please hurry.”
“I’ll be back as fast as I can noona, I promise.” You hear him run to his room, presumably to put on his disguise, and then grab his car keys before he bolts out the front door. You collapse against your bedroom door, at least you don’t have to worry about him hearing you until he returns. You crawl back into bed and slip a hand between your legs to sate your arousal the best you can. “Jimin, please hurry back…”
Jimin walks into the grocery store and pulls out your list while grabbing a cart. He pushes it through the aisles until he spots the first thing on your list. Pads, check. Wait… Why are there so many kinds?? Jimin’s eyes flit back and forth until he spots an older woman walking down the aisle. Maybe she can help.
“Excuse me auntie, could you help me?”
“Of course.”
“My little sister is having her first, uh, period. I was wondering which pads to get her?”
“Aw, aren’t you a sweet brother!” She exclaims before surveying the options. “I’d get her these,” She points to a package on the shelf. “You never know how heavy a first one will be.”
“Perfect, thank you so much!”
“Not a problem!” She smiles as she starts to walk away, “And don’t forget a heating pad for the cramps!” She adds before disappearing around the corner.
A heating pad? Jimin looks over your list, but that’s not on it. Would it help you? Couldn’t hurt to try. He shrugs and grabs one off the shelf before moving on.
Jimin fills the cart with your favorite snacks and a case of water before going to the ‘pet’ aisle to look for heat suppressants. He locates them easily enough and tosses them in the cart before looking at the last item on the list, only to see it’s been scratched out. Jimin holds the paper close to his face to try and decipher the letters; obviously it’s important if you took the time to write it down. V… i… b… n? No, it’s an r. Vibr… a… Jimin gulps as he looks at the word. Vibrator. Even though it’s been scratched out, you didn’t do it well enough. It definitely says vibrator. Jimin panics. Would that… Would that help you? Even if it would, he won’t find it here.
Jimin pays for everything else and loads it into his car before sitting in it and pulling out his phone. He opens a search engine, types “hybrid in heat - vibrator”, and hits enter. The first item that comes up says “Is your female hybrid in heat? Ten useful tips on how to calm her down!” He clicks the link. The first tip is to ‘get your hybrid spayed’. Jimin scoffs at the cruelty. The second tip is to ‘breed your hybrid’. Jimin’s face gets hot when he sees that and skips to the next option. Tip three, ‘get your hybrid a sex toy’. Jimin blushes as he reads the article.
Not ready to breed your hybrid? Get them a sex toy! Though it’s not as good as the real thing, it does the job; helping to sate your hybrids heat, even if it’s only for short bursts. Leave your hybrid in their room, making sure they’re comfortable with plenty of food and water, and let them play with themselves until their heat passes. It’s a simple, but effective fix!
Jimin closes his phone and takes a deep breath, unable to get the sight of you and a vibrator out of his mind. He shakes his head and lightly pats his face a few times to shake himself out of it before starting the car, his head swirling.
When you hear the front door open, you’re beyond relieved. Jimin was only gone for an hour, but it felt like forever. You perk up when you hear his cheerful voice, pulling your hands out from between your legs and throwing your shirt back on.
“Noona?” He knocks on your door.
“Did you get everything?” You ask, slightly out of breath from how aggressively you were touching yourself.
“I-I think so.”
“Okay, put everything down and then go to your room.”
“What? Why?”
“Because, Jimin trust me. You don’t want to smell me right now, it’ll send you right into your rut and that could be dangerous for you. You want your first one to come naturally.”
“Right. Okay, I’ll just leave everything here then.” You can hear bags rustling on the other side and smile as you hear Jimin’s footsteps disappear and the door to his room shut.
You quickly open your door and snatch up all the bags, dragging them inside before shutting the door again and rifling through them. It’s mostly snacks and water, but there are also pads and suppressants like you asked for, as well as a heating pad, which won’t do much, and… a small black bag tucked inside the bag with the pads. You pull it out and open it, your jaw dropping as you take out what’s inside; a bright pink rabbit vibrator. Rechargable with Multifunction! Enjoy an intense night in alone, or spice things up with your lover! Even if you weren’t in heat, your face would be bright red with embarrassment. This means Jimin; your sweet, innocent Jimin; went to a sex shop and picked this out specifically for you. You should’ve scratched it out better on the paper.
You lay it on your bed and stare at it from where you sit on the floor. It’s mocking you. It’s just sitting there, ready to use, but how can you even use it when you know Jimin bought it for you. You stare at it until another sharp pang in your stomach demands your attention. Fuck. Well, he did buy it for you. Is there any reason to let it go to waste? You grab it and take it out of its packaging, fiddling with it until you figure out how it works, the vibrations making your arms quiver all the way from your hands to your elbows. Your tail flicks at the sensation, pleased. You know what? Fuck it.
It’s been three days since your heat started and Jimin’s starting to lose control. He paces around the house, mostly in the hallway outside your room. He can’t focus on anything else when he’s home, all he can hear are the sounds of you pleasuring yourself, and it’s getting to be too much for him. All the beautiful moans that fall from your mouth are driving him insane, but he can’t do anything about it, he can’t even jerk himself off for some reason; he’s been hard for two days, but his hands don’t feel good enough and he’s had to go to bed unsatisfied. He should have bought better headphones.
It wasn’t until he caught the first whiff of your scent that it started to happen. He brought you food yesterday and left it outside your door, but you didn’t wait long enough for him to get some distance before retrieving it and he smelled you. God did he smell you. Your body is giving off enough pheromones to knock him to the ground in submission, but no matter how much he lingered at your door, he couldn’t get another taste of that delicious scent. He can’t get your scent out of his mind, or your moans out of his ears. He has to do something; he’s surrounded by you, everything is you, everything is you. He grabs his jacket and heads out the door, deciding a walk around the mountain trail might help clear his head.
Honestly, you’re not faring much better. While the vibrator is doing its job, it feels empty; your orgasms are disappointing to say the least and you crave the touch of another. You can hear Jimin as he paces outside your door, and it takes all your willpower not to unlock it and pounce on him.
You’ve just come off your latest orgasm and your arm is starting to hurt, so you decide to rest for a bit, but you’re overwhelmed by the urge to nest. You need comfort, and you need it now. You grab all of your pillows and blankets and shove them onto the floor, crawling down after them to arrange them to your liking. When you’re finished, you step back, but your tail flicks in irritation; something’s off. It’s not enough. You look around your room, but you don’t have anything else to add. Shit. You sit and ponder the idea of sneaking around the house to collect some more materials, but what about Jimin? You could throw him into his rut. But you need comfort. Your ears twitch, listening to see if you can locate Jimin. He’s pacing by the front door again. If he’s that far away, you could probably- Slam! As if he read your mind, you hear the front door open and shut. Is Jimin leaving for work? Thank god.
You immediately stand an exit your room, rummaging around the house to find more padding for your bed. You grab some towels from the bathroom and some sheets from the linen closet before taking the couch pillows as well, but even after you add them to the pile, it’s still not enough. As you’re adjusting one of the towels, you catch a whiff of something. You bring your nose closer and inhale deeply. Jimin. That’s what’s missing. His scent ignites your instincts and following them leads you to Jimin’s room. You grab the comforter off his bed, his pillows, as well as several pieces of his clothing before heading back into your room and shutting the door.
You make his comforter the centerpiece, putting his pillows around the edges and laying his clothes on top of it before crawling into your nest and snuggling up to his scent. It’s soothing and soft, and you quickly find yourself being lulled into your afternoon nap.
The walk did wonders and as Jimin returns home, he finds the house to be surprisingly quiet, he heads to the kitchen to grab a drink when suddenly he smells something. Just a faint touch of it, but it’s definitely there. It’s you. You must’ve left your room while he was gone. He follows the scent and it leads him down the hall to his own bedroom. That’s strange, why would you go into his room? He walks in to find all of his blankets and pillows missing, as well as his pajamas. What the hell? Where’d all his stuff go? He leaves his room and heads down the hallway to find out. He raps his knuckles against your door a few times.
“Y/N?” No answer. “Noona, are you in there?”
He tries the door knob even though it’s pointless. Wait… The door pushes open… It’s unlocked? He opens the door and is immediately overwhelmed by your scent; your normal scent as well as a sweet undertone that he finds completely irresistible, so much so that he unintentionally lets out a whine as he feels his erection forming again. He looks to your bed, but you’re not there. He enters the room but he doesn’t see you, so he walks to the side of the room blocked by your bed to find you curled up on the floor in what looks like a makeshift nest, made up of his blankets and pillows and clothes; you’re even wearing one of his shirts.
Protect. His instincts start screaming at him. She’s nesting. She’s in heat. Protect her. He can’t help himself. He crawls over to your nest and lays down with you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close as you sleep. He nuzzles against your face, inhaling your scent deeply. God you smell so good. He grows harder, but his instincts are telling him to protect you, and that includes protecting you from himself, so he simply wraps his tail around you and relaxes into your nest, easily joining you in a sweet sleep.
When you wake up, you groan. That’s what you get for sleeping on the floor you suppose. When did pillows get so hard? You stretch your arms out to pull the pillow closer, but it doesn’t move. Wait. When did pillows start to breathe? You immediately sit up, and it’s then that Jimin’s scent surrounds you as you look down to see him sleeping peacefully beside you, his arms and tail wrapped tightly around you, his ears twitching in his sleep. Oh fuck, how did he get in here? Shit. Oh god he smells so good.
You lean down and press your nose against his neck, inhaling deeply, unable to help yourself as you rub your cheek against Jimin’s jaw, your instincts suddenly flooding your mind again. Mate. Mate. He’s rutting, Mate him. MATE. You look down, and sure enough, even through his jeans, you can tell Jimin is rock hard. But can you really do that with Jimin? Your sweet, beautiful, gorgeous…
“Noona?”
Fuck. “J-Jimin, how did you get in here?”
“You left the door unlocked.”
“But… Why? I told you-”
“I was looking for my stuff.” He states, tugging at the shirt the adorns your body, the one you stole from his bed. “Then when I saw you nesting, my instincts said to protect you. It’s like I couldn’t stop myself.”
“But Jimin…” It’s too late, you can already tell. His eyes darken as he looks over your body. “H-how long have you had, um… that?” You ask, pointing to the crotch of his jeans.
“I don’t know,” Jimin mumbles, looking anywhere but at you. “Two days or so?”
“Two days? Oh god, Jimin… You’re rutting.”
“I-I know.”
“You know? You knew and yet you still chose to come in here? When it could hurt you?”
“I needed to protect you.”
“From what?”
“I-I don’t know…” He shrugs. “Everything?”
You can’t help but scoff. “You didn’t protect me from yourself very well.”
“Yes I did.”
“If you did, you wouldn’t be in here!”
“If I didn’t, that shirt would be in pieces on the floor right now.” He growls.
A heat floods your cheeks at his words, noting the dark gleam in his eyes as your heat starts back up again. “J-Jimin you have to go.”
“I can’t noona.”
“Wh-”
“Not when you smell so good.” He purrs, leaning forward to bury his face in your neck and inhaling deeply as he pushes you down on your back, pinning your wrists down.
“J-Jimin!” You exclaim, making him sit back as he catches himself.
“Noona I… You have to tell me to leave, that you don’t want this. Please, I-I can’t… I can’t control it much longer.”
“I…” Suddenly you can’t think. You want nothing more than to flip Jimin onto his back and rip his clothes off, but at the same time, it’s Jimin. Can you bring yourself to do that to him? To cross this boundary?
“Noona?” He stares down at you with those beautifully sweet eyes.
Before you can think too hard about it, you reach up and grab his shirt, ripping it open, buttons go flying everywhere as you push him down onto his back and straddle his waist. Your head dips down to capture his lips with your own, a bit aggressively to be honest. You tug his bottom lip between your teeth, breaking the skin a bit, but the taste of copper only spurs you on.
You trail your lips to Jimin’s neck, inhaling deeply as he grabs hold of your shirt, ripping it to shreds in his haste to get it off of you, leaving you on top of him in only a pair of panties as he grabs your waist and pulls you down against him, letting out a small moan as you provide him with a taste the friction he’s been craving for the last few days. You nip at his neck as you grind down against him, rubbing your jaw against his to intermix your scents.
Jimin reaches down between your bodies and works at his belt and jeans, successfully undoing them and shimmying them down his legs to the best of his ability before flipping you onto your back and sitting up, pulling them off the rest of the way. You admire Jimin’s physique, his lithe, toned body; ears twitching, tail thrashing, muscles rippling, cock bouncing, tip dripping. You sit up on your knees and pull Jimin’s mouth back to yours, feeling the warmth of his skin pressing against you only turning you on more.
“Y-Y/N…” He groans as your lips find his neck again, this time leaving harsh bites in your wake, all the way down across his chest until you get to his waist and he stops you, pulling you back up to him and leaving one harsh bite on your neck. “Turn over.”
He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You bend down onto your hands and knees, waving your ass high in the air. In his haste to be inside you, Jimin rips your panties as well, but he’s too caught up to care, tossing the torn fabric to the side as you present yourself to him, wiggling your hips back and forth until he grabs them tightly, holding you still to admire you.
“Oh god…” He growls. “You smell…. Fuck, you smell so good. You’re so pretty a-and wet, hah-” You can feel the head of his cock pressing against you. “C-can I noona?”
You press back into him, feeling his tip slip between your folds. “Mate me.” You hiss, having lost all semblance of control. You hear Jimin growl behind you, the sound rumbling deep in his chest before he pushes into you hastily, not wasting anymore time. The feeling of Jimin’s cock filling you up is instantly gratifying and you let out a satisfied groan as Jimin’s grip tightens on your hips.
“O-oh- Oh god. Does it always feel this good?” He pants. “You’re so tight. A-and warm ah-” He stops, buried deep inside you as he leans forward, resting his forehead on your back, his words reminding you that up until this moment, Jimin was a virgin. That thought swirls in your mind until your brain reminds you there’s a dick inside you.
“Shut up and fuck me.” You whine, growing impatient.
“R-right, sorry noona.” He gasps, readjusting his grip before he starts, nearly knocking you over from the force of his thrusts.
He feels so good honestly you’re in heaven, your body screaming in pleasure, every nerve ending on fire with the need to orgasm. Jimin’s hips smack against your body, emphasizing just how hard he’s fucking you, making you dizzy with lust. The sweetest high pitched moans leave the lips of the man behind you, only serving to heighten your arousal as his sounds fill your ears.
You’re in paradise as Jimin fills you to the brim over and over; your mind going blank as you focus on the feeling of him touching you, caressing you, entering you, fulfilling every primal need your body can come up with; that is, until a defined whimper catches your attention. He doesn’t stop, and if he slows down it’s only a microscopic difference in speed, but you’re almost positive you can feel the warmth of his release spurting inside you, and the increasingly lewd, wet smacks of him against you only serve to increase your suspicion, until you feel something hot and wet dripping down the inside of your thigh.
“J-Ji-min-” You whimper between thrusts, trying to get his attention.
“Hm?” You look over your shoulder to see his eyes closed as he continues, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration and his ears laid back.
“D-id y-ou cu-u-um?” Your words are drawn out when he goes harder.
He nods in affirmation, his eyes still shut. “Mm.”
“Are you- Ah!” You cry out when Jimin slams into you harshly.
“I can’t stop, noona you feel too good.” He whines.
“Oh god…” You whimper, gripping the blankets beneath you tighter. “J-Ji… Chim…”
“Fuck-” Is all you hear before he pulls out and flips you onto your back. Before you even blink, he thrusts back inside you, making you cry out in pleasure as you wrap your arms around him. Jimin leans down and rubs his face against yours, marking you with his scent over and over until his lips find your neck again. He covers your skin in kisses and bites in between low growls. He’s slowed his pace, switching to deep, calculated thrusts as he searches for that one spot, making you moan loudly when he finally finds it.
“Oh fuck~!” You groan when he slams into your g spot again, harder; loving the way it makes you contract around him.
“Does that feel good baby?”
“Uh huh~”
“You feel so fucking good.” He grunts in your ear. “I’m gonna fill you up; fill you until you’re swollen with my cubs, does that sound good?”
“Oh god Jimin…”
“I’m gonna breed you so good baby. I’m gonna fill you with my cubs.” Jimin’s voice has lowered into a deep gruffness that serves to make the filthy words falling from his lips that much more delectable. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes-” Your voice breaks with desperation as you rake your nails down his back. “Make me yours, please.”
Jimin picks up his pace as he turns your head to the side, displaying your neck; he zeroes in on your jugular and bites down hard, kickstarting your orgasm. You cry out Jimin’s name as you quiver beneath him; the cage of your heat finally loosening its grip as the most breathtaking orgasm of your life sweeps you away. Jimin’s not far behind with his own orgasm, letting out a high pitched whimper as he buries his face in your shoulder, shaking as he fills you with his warmth. When he’s done he pulls out and collapses beside you, both of you breathing heavily, but finally satisfied.
Jimin’s the first to move again, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close to him, your back against his chest as he chuffs in your ear. You return the chuff as a deep purr rumbles in your throat, your tail wrapping around his leg, sated and happy. Jimin’s own purr mingles with yours, the vibrations relaxing you as the two of you curl up in your makeshift nest.
“So how was that for your first time?”
Jimin lets out a long sigh as he nuzzles into your neck. “Amazing. You’re amazing noona.”
“I guess it’s a good thing you never listen to me.” You tease.
“You started it.”
“Oh and um… What was that about ‘filling me with your cubs’, hm?”
“N-nothing.” Jimin mumbles. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You don’t? It was something along the lines of ‘I’m gonna breed you so good’ I think.”
“I-I just got carried away is all.”
“Is that it? Just caught up in the moment?”
“Exactly.” He huffs. “Besides, you liked it.”
You chuckle lightly, smiling as you turn your head to face him. “I never said I didn’t.” You punctuate your words with a sweet kiss, lingering against his lips.
“Noona?”
“Mm?”
“Now that the urgency is out of the way, do I get to take my time with you?” He asks hopefully.
“You can do whatever you want to me baby. As long as you fill me with your cubs.” You giggle.
“You’re not going to let that go, are you?” Jimin inquires, pulling you close.
“Never.”
Copyright © Inkjam-Moon 2019
#kpopwritingnet#btssmutclub#inkjam-moon#bts scenarios#jimin x reader#snow leopard!Jimin#hybrid!Jimin#bts smut#bts fluff#jimin smut#jimin fluff#bts fanfiction#bts fics#jimin#park jimin#bts jimin#chim#request#instincts#hybrid AU
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a whole new world
Take a delicate prince who prefers books over physical training and a shameless criminal who has a sharp tongue and cheeky remarks. Surely, their paths shouldn’t have crossed, but they had done so nevertheless.
♦ Characters: prince!Minchan x criminal!Sookyung (OC)
♦ Genre: reversed Aladdin AU, kingdom AU, fluff, comedy, a bit of action
♦ Words: 3.6k
♦ Warning: mention of a minor character’s death in the past
♦ A/N: Inspired by the boys’ Gogobebe performance on Road To Kingdom. I’m a huge fan of Aladdin, so of course I had to write an Aladdin AU after that performance. *-* Click here to be added to the TAGLIST and to let me know about your fic preferences.
Prince Minchan wasn’t an ordinary prince.
Or in fact, maybe when it came to his appearance, he was actually prince-like. He was slender, tall and broad-shouldered, thus he definitely looked like someone who could protect a whole kingdom. He had fluffy, slightly curly locks that seemed like shades of the fresh cinnamon; somewhere in between deep brown and light pecan. He had mature and defined features, his sharp jawline looked like as if it had been crafted by some kind of god. His mellow lips were ever so scarcely pulled into a smile, or maybe it was just that average people didn’t have the chance to see his sunrise-like smile very often alongside his whole appearance in fact.
Prince Minchan was an ordinary prince in the sense that he had been trained to serve with the army, he had been trained to become the next sultan as he had been the older out of the two heirs with his little brother Gyehyeon being two years younger than him. He had been taught manners, ethics, mathematics, physics and history. He had been taught well how to conduct a debate, how to add to arguments in a polite yet firm way, how to come up with strategies, how to read a map and how to lead a group of people if needed.
However, he wasn’t ordinary in the sense that he didn’t yearn for all these; the fame, the power, the perks of being of royal blood. He wasn’t interested in wars and fights, neither mathematics or history. He wasn’t fond of debates and arguments, he rather preferred solace and quiet afternoons. He preferred inks tinting the parchment paper instead of war threats sent in the kingdom’s way, he preferred sitting in the blooming garden instead of practicing out on the field and he would have preferred to live his life as a mere merchant instead of a prince.
But after all, he hadn’t chosen his own fate. His fate had chosen him. Or so he had thought so before he met Sookyung.
Sookyung wasn’t an ordinary girl - in any sense.
She had boyishly short hair, locks as dark as the canvas of the sky above the kingdom at midnight, eyes as deep as the Pacific Ocean and gaze as searing as the hottest of fire. She was taller than the average female, loose clothes covering her feminine curves and face usually covered by a hood. She was a quick runner, an excellent debater and an even better criminal, hence the hood over her head. It wasn’t that she had been sentenced to death, but let’s just say she was usually not welcomed in places, thus she didn’t even stay at the same kingdom for longer than a few weeks.
There was also something slightly odd about her; no matter her crimes and her cheeky and fierce behaviour, she had a soft spot for people in need - just like she had been one of them before she had chosen this path. Though as an orphan, kicked onto the streets as a mere child, what more could she have done?
No wonder she halted in her steps when she caught sight of an unusual scene at the market - the sandy road dotted with multiple stalls smelling of fresh books, baked goods, magnificent herbs, spicy flavours and people selling many colourful carpets and the finest of silk. There was a boy at a book stall, holding a book in his hands, the merchant yelling at him to pay for it and the boy insisting that he had money, just not right now.
Sookyung narrowed her eyebrows at the sight because he did look like someone who would have money; from the way he dressed to the way he formed words, he seemed like a rather noble young man. Though she didn’t know about people in such high ranks, especially not here in the Kingdom of the Setting Sun. She had been here for only a week.
Nevertheless, she strode to the stall, reached for a few coins in her pocket and gave it to the merchant who smiled through his hollow teeth. Merchants like him didn’t care about people until they got their money, so she wasn’t surprised that he didn’t ask questions. Unlike the fine-looking young man.
“Thank you,” the boy whispered in awe, eyes searching for hers, but she purposefully didn’t look into them.
“Don’t thank me.” She waved him off, knowing that she didn’t do anything good, yet before they could part ways, the merchant realized that she had given him fake coins and instead of her, he grabbed onto the young boy.
Sookyung grabbed the merchant by his shoulder and pushed him backwards, and the action itself and the power she used was enough for him to take a few steps back and for her to grab the boy by his wrist and start dragging him with her.
Despite the short time she had spent in the kingdom, she knew her way around, especially back to her little brick house that she had found abandoned when she had come to the kingdom. They made their ways through narrow corridors, outdoor stalls and busy market places, turning corners and looking back to see if the man was following them, but based on her quick examination regarding his physique, Sookyung had a feeling that he didn’t stand a chance.
Yet, they could only be sure about that when they arrived at her little brick house that was seemingly out of reach and run down enough for people not to bother her while she was staying there. From the outside, it looked like no one had lived there because the empty door frames were covered by thick curtains, thus not even light from the inside could be seen.
“So what’s your deal? You don’t look like you belong here,” Sookyung remarked as she popped down onto a cushion that might have seemed too ordinary for someone who walked around in such high quality clothes, but the boy seemed to be more shocked by her realization than the sight around him.
His eyes widened as if he had been an animal caught in a trap, his Adam’s nipple anxiously moving up and down, lips slightly trembling.
“I-I...” He stuttered, yet seeing his nervous state, she rather waved him off.
“You know what? Nevermind. You’re clearly running away from something, and you’re clearly naive for trusting me,” she pointed out honestly, yet shrugged her shoulders as if she hadn’t cared about him. Though she had to admit that there was something captivative about his coffee-bean like eyes, something that she had also seen in her own orbs: the yearn for freedom.
“Fancy some tea?” Sookyung popped the question ever so casually as she rose from the cushion and walked closer to the part of the room she liked to call the kitchen. It was barely a table and a few other equipments but those were already enough for making tea and preparing some bread with cheese or a few chocolate-covered dates. All stolen, of course.
“Well, yes, actually.” The boy nodded, yet upon seeing her reaching for the tea cup, he corrected himself. “I meant, the running away part,”
“So you do admit that you’re naive?” She quirked an eyebrow in question, amusement tinting her lips. She decided to remove her hood at this point, there was no point in hiding herself from someone who looked so clueless and out of place. Despite his seemingly wealthy background, he looked like he wouldn’t be able to hurt a single soul.
The boy gave her a pointed look that seemed opposite of every action of his from before. He seemed much more firm than a minute ago, and she had a feeling that he had been taught for it, too. The way he corrected his posture and the way he held his chin up high; it was something that radiated superiority.
“I don’t consider myself naive. I am currently trying to read your body language to analyse your intentions,” he explained sternly, yet she couldn’t help a cheeky smile from appearing on her lips.
“And what does my body language say?”
No matter how provocative she tried to seem, the boy was flustered for only a fraction of a second. After that, he regained his composure and kept the eye-contact, making sure that she knew that he wasn’t one to have such ulterior intentions.
“Nothing like that.” He shook his head, a few of his cinnamonish locks falling into his coffee eyes. He was sure a sight to behold, and his behaviour was just the cherry on top.
“You’re cute,” she said shamelessly, deciding to ignore the slightly dumbfounded expression on his face. “It’s not like I’m killing boys in my free time, so relax, feel yourself at home,” she declared before he could get totally scared and might run away as if he had lost it. Though he was probably wondering around anyway, seeing how he stayed with her until this time and didn’t leave the moment they arrived at her little house. Or maybe he was merely too curious.
At first, the boy seemed reluctant to stay, yet he seemed reluctant to go either. It was a pretty interesting sight, so while he was trying to make up his mind, she busied herself preparing the tea and was surprised to find him actually staying in the end. She didn’t mind though.
The boy was actually an interesting company because it could be seen and could be heard that he had been taught well and he had read enough to know about topics she had absolutely no knowledge on. He was actually much more outspoken than he had seemed at first, and no matter how hard she tried to focus on what he was saying, her eyes still lingered on the shade of his eyes and the curliness of his locks. He seemed too much of a painting rather than a real human being, but actually seeing moles and circles under his eyes made her more reassured. At least, he had such flaws that made him humane.
She wouldn’t have thought that they would be able to have such an enjoyable conversation but apparently they did so, and even though he didn’t confess who he was, she could figure out that he had been travelling a lot because his family was wealthy and that he read a lot and that he was trained a lot. He could have been a prince or the next Sultan for all she had cared because what mattered to her was the fact that they could talk about freedom and breaking stigmas, understanding and empathy towards others and a lot more. Until, of course, he needed to leave.
“To where you’re running from?” She quirked an eyebrow in question, but didn’t pressure him to talk about something he didn’t want to. “Well, good luck!” Sookyung said in the end with a half-smile, watching as the boy forced himself to stand up and directed a final look in her direction.
“Thank you,” the boy - who had introduced himself as Minchan - remarked before leaving, missing out on her shaking her head and smiling cheekily to herself. What a boy he was! How flustered he had gotten when she had called him cute! She would probably never forget him even if they didn’t meet again. Though she hoped that they would.
Prince Minchan didn’t know what hit him when his legs found their ways to the girl’s house. As someone who needed to remember maps and strategies, his memory was particularly good and he knew the way around the kingdom anyway, although it had been some time since he could have left the palace for a longer period of time.
After the Sultana had died, the Sultan had wanted to make sure that he kept the boys as safe as possible, thus sneaking out was strictly prohibited for a while. Minchan had spent most of his childhood and teenage years wondering what it could be like outside, what a market could smell of, how hot the sand could feel under his feet when there was nothing to cover him from above and what it would be like to watch the sunset from somewhere else other than the terrace of the palace.
It had been only after his father had assumed that the princes were trained enough to take care of themselves properly that he let the boys leave the palace with the requirement of them letting him and the palace guards know that they would be going outside. Prince Minchan had left the palace multiple times ever since, mostly to buy new books for himself, yet sometimes - just like last time - he didn’t have enough money on himself and he didn’t want to cheat his way out of a payment just because he was a prince. People didn’t know how he looked anyway since he hadn’t been able to leave the palace for so long and they could have only seen him during ceremonies but those were kept inside of the palace anyway and only royal families were invited.
Yet, there was something about the girl’s mind-set and way of speaking that drove him in. It felt as if someone could have understood him which was surprising given their different backgrounds and the mere fact that sometimes he felt like no one understood him.
His little brother had also been very different from him; while Minchan was tender, soft-hearted, more of a sophisticated person rather than a skilled fighter, Gyehyeon was fierce, determined and an excellent swordsman and runner. It seemed like he had gotten the power and strength from their father and Minchan had gotten the softness and intellect from their mother. Which would have worked out just fine if the Sultan hadn’t insisted on Minchan being the Crown Prince just because he was the oldest.
Small wonder it felt nice to talk to someone who seemingly didn’t know who he was and what burden he carried. He craved the same kind of understanding again, hence his visit at the seemingly empty house. He looked around for a bit, suspecting that Sookyung might have gone somewhere else already as she had shared with him that she had been travelling ever since she had left the kingdom she had been from. She didn’t want the place to remind her of her own bitter memories, of being abandoned and of being left alone and tossed away at such a young age.
However, in the next moment, someone poked him in the chest, and Minchan was so surprised to find the girl beside him once he turned his head that he almost let out a squeal. Almost.
“Miss me already?” Sookyung chuckled, seeing his startled expression, her eyebrows rising up and down in a slightly teasing manner.
The prince needed a few seconds to gather his thoughts and pull himself together enough to answer her playful question. No matter her cheerful behaviour, he didn’t want to play along with her this time, thus he decided to be honest.
“Missed talking to you, actually. You seemed like you understand me,” he admitted as he scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, the sudden change in the atmosphere making him fear her reaction. He shouldn’t have been afraid though; the girl’s features immediately softened and instead of a cocky smile, it was replaced by a bittersweet one.
“Had a rough day?” She inquired quietly, her eyes boring into his own ones. Even if she had been practically a criminal, he knew her reasons and her personality meant so much more to him than any crime could. It’s not like she had seriously hurt anyway, she just needed to get by somehow.
He nodded to her question, his lips pulling into a grimace. The girl got the message just by this action of his and pointed in the direction of her colourful cushion.
“Well, then, have a seat. I’ll get you your favourite tea,” she suggested, making her way to the table, yet Minchan was taken aback by her words almost immediately. While it was true that they had talked about his favourite kind of tea the last time they had met, he wouldn’t have thought that she would do as much as to buy his favourite tea.
“Did you purchase my favourite tea?”
“Well, I didn’t actually purchase it because it’s way too expensive, but I had a feeling you would come back,” she explained with that adventurous glint in her carob eyes and Minchan couldn’t help but let his lips curl upwards. “I like that smile better. Your gloomy face is way too ugly,” she remarked shamelessly, and he was sure that it was to lift up his mood, thus he wasn’t angry at her. Not like he could be angry at her. After all, she had helped him a lot more than he could have asked for and this day prove him right yet again.
Talking to Sookyung was always full of surprises; not just because of the way she could always throw retorts in his way but also because of her words. She was full of twists and turns just like her whole life, and talking to her was actually a lot more fascinating than a lot of books he had ever read. Maybe she wasn’t educated, but she was sure knowledgeable enough when it came to life itself and she had a lot more experiences than others could have had during their whole life.
There was also that kind of undefeatable understanding in her that Minchan prominently appreciated because no matter the people around him, it seemed like a girl like her was the only one who was willing to listen to his deepest and most sincere concerns and take them seriously. Even though she said that she wasn’t good at such advices because she didn’t know his whole situation, her reassurance was enough, not to mention the fact that she was willing to listen to him.
Tea cup empty, the scenery darkening around them, the prince had to realize that no matter how much he wanted to clear his head, he needed to go back to the palace to not cause a ruckus.
Yet, before he did so, he didn’t hesitate to thank the girl who waved her off as always - but this time, it was with a knowing smile, the best kind in his opinion.
Times had passed and Minchan found himself going back to Sookyung day by day, and the more they talked, the closer he felt to her. Eventually, she had realized that he must have been one of the princes from the kingdom because she had heard enough rumours and she had put together the pieces. It hadn’t meant that she had treated him any differently, it was as if this tiny fact hadn’t even mattered to her that much. She had kept teasing him, calling him by playful names, giving him those stares and wiggling her eyebrows. She had been as shameless as she could have been, but in the best possible way.
Yet, knowing her situation, he shouldn’t have been surprised, yet he still was when she announced that she would move to another kingdom.
“I really wish I could go with you,” Minchan confessed with a dreamy expression, his curly locks falling into his eyes. Maybe it wasn’t even just the other kingdom he craved but maybe it was the girl’s presence too that he was willing to run away for. Or that cheeky smile. Or those childish glints and occasional fiery moments. Or her way of making his favourite tea a bit bitter but still sweet. Or her characteristic, deep laughter. Or her boyishly short locks. Or her determination.
“You know, you can always come when you’re ready,” she concluded with yet another knowing smile of hers, and he really wished he could have been as hopeful as her. He didn’t know when or if he could ever leave the palace and live the life he wanted, but seeing her example, he knew that a new chance and a new life was always possible.
“I’ll come find you then,” Minchan said firmly, earning a gentle smile from the girl who looked him into the eyes for long, unbreakable seconds, the smile not wavering from her lips.
That was the first time he realized that she might have enjoyed their encounters and conversations as much as he had done so; she might have felt the same way towards him as he had done towards her; she might have had that same electronic jolt in her body as he had had whenever their hands had accidentally touched; she might have felt like she had found a home in his presence rather than just a conversational partner.
“I can’t wait,” Sookyung remarked cheekily, her lips turning upwards into a smile before she shortened the distance between the two of them and pecked a soft kiss onto his cheeks, something that he kept remembering back to until he set out on his journey of self-exploration a few months later and until he set out on the journey of finding her.
He used to dismiss ideas such as fate and destiny, yet he couldn’t deny that the chances of them ever meeting had always been very slim, yet they had still ended up getting to know each other and then meeting again months later at a book stall - just like they had met for the first time. What had it been if not destiny? Maybe months had to pass and kingdoms had to be visited but they still ended up like how they had started - just a bit more free and a bit happier this time.
#kwritersworldnet#kpopwritingnet#verivery#verivery scenarios#minchan#verivery imagines#minchan scenarios#minchan imagines#verivery fluff#minchan fluff#verivery comedy#minchan comedy#verivery gogobebe#verivery aladdin
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Under Wraps — Chanyeol [M]
Smut | Angst
Canon | BadGirl!Reader X Park Chanyeol
840 Words
I’m sorry if you easily get affected by sad endings, this is not for you. I love pain and I just want to share what my kind of angst is, thank you very much. :D
P.S. This is the first thing I wrote in a very long time, please let me know if my skills are beginning to recede. Also this is short but (bitter)sweet hahaha.
Your idle time with him and his love for you is under wraps and you got him wrapped around your fingers
“Yeah… Just like that, don’t stop.”
You whimper as you softly caress Chanyeol’s mop of hair in between your legs. One of your feet outlining his back as well while he’s doing so, so great at eating you out exactly how you like it. His nose, mouth, and tongue buried in between your folds, fingers in and out of you.
“Fuck, you’re so good, Chanyeol!”
You cry out when a particular roll of his tongue on your clit hits a nerve so good. You tighten your hold on his hair asudden out of your ministration because of his good agility.
Chanyeol knew the moment you start to pull his hair is when you’re nearing your peak so he did what he knows will make you cry out his name. He picks up his pace and fucks his fingers into you so fast that your voice shakes as he does so. And he doesn’t stop until you’re leaking onto his fingers.
Chanyeol swiftly removes his fingers and jumps up on top of you the moment you scream out his name. With your juices glistening on the lower half of his face, Chanyeol dips in to give you a kiss and you love how shameless he is and doesn’t even wipe his mouth before kissing you. The taste of your own pleasure mixed in with his mouth makes your lust even more intensified.
“Fuck, Chanyeol! Fuck me so good that I forget all the other men I’ve ever been with.”
Chanyeol’s forehead creases in with what you said, you know that he knows he’s not the only one you’re sleeping with. He seems fine with it in normal situations, but the fact that you mention it during sex drives him wild. It helps him fuck you like a teenager in heat and sometimes even choke you when he pleases to.
“Say that again, Princess?”
Chanyeol grabs your jaws roughly with his huge hand, to give your neck wet kisses.
“I said, fuck me so hard that I forget any man other than you.”
You whispered with all your might with how much he was holding your neck now.
And to that, he startlingly rams his cock inside of you. Both your hands reach up to hold his wrist with the hand that was choking you already, not too tight but not loose either.
He continues to thrust hard and fast while just looking straight at you with so much fire in his eyes.
He doesn’t seem to get tired, his appetite just seems to get more and more improved the more he continues his onslaught on you.
You’re all mewls and curses as you reach your high and Chanyeol never waivers with his consistent movements. This is exactly what you like about him, he’s consonant and steady.
You like him a lot, you like the sex, you like lying next to him and you certainly like the camaraderie when you’re together.
But sadly, you don’t like him enough to stay.
So you finally stood up, this time just ten minutes after you both reached your high.
You always do that to him, and he is used to you leaving first. Nothing new for Chanyeol.
However, this time, you did not take your time. You did not do what you usually do after he made you cum multiple times during the nights you see each other.
You usually use your phone to check on your SNS for about fifteen or so minutes. Cuddle him a bit and give him a taste of your sweet side for a fraction of a time and then go ahead and leave him hanging, just when his heart is about to burst and believe that you might actually truly love him to go on and take a shower and use his expensive shampoo and conditioner and then leave his flat.
But right now, you’re hurrying to put on your clothes. Not even bothering to wipe yourself clean and just put on your underwear like the stickiness doesn’t bother you. He knows the combination of both your release bothers you a lot when it trickles down your thighs. But today is different and it distresses Chanyeol a lot.
“Not gonna shower?”
He asks carefully, slowly pushing himself up his bed to look at your form properly.
“Nah.”
You stopped putting on your clothes for a bit to answer him nonchalantly.
“Oh—”
Chanyeol’s only response. He was taken aback by your sudden honesty. Usually, you will make up a little lie not to hurt his feelings.
Before you pull open Chanyeol’s bedroom door, looked back at him to inform about your new rule.
“Ah, by the way… Don’t contact me, okay? Wait for my call or text. It depends on my mood.”
You gave him a half-smile and his face fell when you told him what you just said.
“W–why? You hiding a boyfriend somewhere out there?”
Chanyeol joked a bit, to save face.
“Actually, yeah.”
You deadpanned and proceeded to leave, banging the door closed on your way out.
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hiraeth | 08
When your cousin the Crown Prince calls in on a decade-old debt, you have no choice but to answer. You’re rewarded for your troubles with your nightmares finding new life, danger around every corner, and a fiendishly irritating bodyguard. As each new discovery unearths more secrets, you learn the true costs of your homecoming.
⇾ Pairing: Lee Jaehwan x Reader
⇾ Genre: Sci-Fi, Royal AU, Bodyguard AU
⇾ Word Count: 4.5k
⇾ Warnings: Mild swearing, descriptions of anxiety
He bores into your eyes with his gaze, and you think Hakyeon has more of his father in him than you remember.
The next morning finds you in yet another unfamiliar apartment. Your legs are jelly descending the stairs, and the three-inch heels on your feet aren't helping. There's a railroad spike through your brain in the form of a migraine, all the while you fight the urge to rub your eyes so you don't ruin Sora's hard work. Hakyeon is already downstairs, dressed impeccably as ever in a navy suit. He adjusts his cuffs, looking up with a frown as he takes in your stiff expression.
"Are you feeling okay? I told you to eat breakfast."
The click of your heels on the tiled floor— somehow even shinier than the one in Hakyeon's other apartment — rings out loudly as you walk over. "Hakyeon, I will throw up on this very expensive dress if you make me eat."
He purses his lips and gives you a disapproving look. "Forgive me for thinking you need a little nutrition beyond caffeine and painkillers." He runs his gaze up and down your form, inspecting Sora's work as his eyes look for even a single thread out of place.
"The third-degree is a little creepy, Hakyeon," you say in response, irritated and tired. You were dragged to this decoy apartment at an ungodly time to meet Sora. Two hours of hair, makeup, and wardrobe later, you still don't feel ready to face the public, let alone the King. You rub your temple gently as if to massage out your headache. The coffee and aspirin you'd downed first thing in the morning have not only done little to help, but also seem to have turned your stomach to molten lava.
Hakyeon has the grace to look contrite as he brushes invisible dust off your shoulder. "I hope you don't expect to speak to my father that way." There are no wrinkles or excessive folds to be found, as your new clothes have been tailored just for you, but he straightens out the sleeves anyway. You take this with all the patience of a doll, resigning yourself to only internal screaming.
"She looks fine, I did a great job," Sora says as she hauls the last of the makeup cases down the stairs. “The King isn’t going to be fixated over her outfit anyway.” She'd instructed you to bring a few of the items you bought yesterday, and had arrived this morning with her own personal trove of beauty tools. Armored in a smart blazer and a dress cut just on the edgier side of conservative, your polished attire belies the true discomfort you feel.
"I intend to speak as little as possible, actually." You swallow down the burn in your esophagus and fiddle with your sleeves as Hakyeon steps back for one last look over, making you feel very self-conscious. “I’m not good at your type of political subterfuge, you know that.”
Hakyeon nods and checks his watch. "That's probably for the best. I’ve done what I can to take the situation out of his hands." You wonder what he means by that, but no explanation comes. “Still, you must be rock-solid in your defense. Why are you here, Princess of Asadal?” He bores into your eyes with his gaze, and you think Hakyeon has more of his father in him than you remember.
“To serve the King,” you answer mechanically. Your voice is less steel and more soft than you’d like, but you force your shoulders back and face your cousin, unwavering.
Hakyeon nods again, a quick decline of his chin, and turns to the door. “Then it’s time that we left.”
The elevator ride down is too quick for your liking, and before you know it you’re standing in front of a sleek, black limo adorned with the flag of Asadal. Jaehwan, your ever-present shadow, is leaning up against the idling car, hands in pockets and looking more formal than ever in his own dark suit. Sora turns around, carefully balancing the various makeup boxes she has, and takes your hand in hers. “I have to run to a photoshoot this afternoon, but I’ll be in touch. You’re gonna kill it, don’t worry,” she says with a last squeeze of your hand.
“I’d prefer to get this over with as little violence as possible actually.” Your retort is clipped with a stiff smile.
Sora leaves, and so does your general sense of bravado. If the events of the past few days have felt strange to you so far, this situation feels positively surreal as Jaehwan opens the door to the limousine for you and Hakyeon to slide in. You're sitting sandwiched between your cousin the prince and a man you hardly know, dressed to the nines in clothes so expensive they could pay a year's rent for your apartment back home.
“This is rather ostentatious,” you mutter quietly, moving your gaze around the luxurious interior.
Hakyeon shifts over to the opposite seats to give you some more room. “The aide insisted. Our entrance won’t be subtle, to say the least.”
This is not the most comforting thing to say, as your jaw clenches once more in anticipation. Jaehwan spares you a side glance, cool as the early morning air outside in his dark suit and upswept hair.
“All right, Princess?” Jaehwan’s tone is neutral, the ubiquitous smile playing in one corner of his mouth. It only serves to irritate you further. You compulsively smooth out your dress and aim for a measured response.
“I’m excellent.” The hem of your dress has ridden up to mid-thigh over your dark tights, and though the exquisite tailoring means there’s nary a stray thread, your fingers keep rubbing the stitching. “No sleep, murderous uncle, not a problem. I am a-ok.”
Not quite.
Hakyeon places a hand over your clenched fist. Whether it's meant to be soothing or a warning, you're not sure. Nevertheless, you force yourself to take a deep breath. Your nerves are already frayed, but you can't afford to fall apart just yet. Not yet.
The ride to the king’s tower is spent in terse silence. You have been to the Assembly House over which the new administrative building was built, but so much of the city is unfamiliar to you that it may as well be an unknown route. Hakyeon's apartment is located in what seems to be a luxury residential area of the Capital, you realize, as you pass high-rise after high-rise, gleaming in the morning sun. These neighborhoods are separated from the business and administrative sectors by the Yuseong River.
The trip over the bridge does your nerves no favors. The limousine is insulated to all outside noises, but the rush of the river below sounds through your memories regardless. The western banks of the river are dotted with construction projects, workers already scrambling around the sites. It’s clear to you that these new buildings are meant to serve your uncle’s pet councilmen and others on the higher rungs of society, given how far they are from the cheaper parts of the city. Unable to sleep in your anxiety, you had done a little research on the state of the city nowadays. Street names and neighborhood designations can only tell you so much, but a quick glance at the housing markets clearly delineates the various strata of society in the Capital.
More interesting is the King's official seat as it draws nearer. In the dark of night when you first saw it, the tower looked like a single dark obelisk thrust up into the sky. Upon closer look now you can see it is actually three different towers circling each other and connected at the base, forming an elongated trident. The Assembly House had never been your favorite piece of architecture, with its dusty corners and old-fashioned facade, but you quite miss it in the face of the tower’s imposing presence.
The streets leading up to the building are lined with trees and fountains and more people than you think should be the case for an otherwise innocuous weekday. The gentle trickle of people escalates and promptly explodes into a thronging mass spilling off the sidewalks as the limousine reaches a stone slab etched with a very generic-sounding “Administration Headquarters” in gold. Your eyes widen at the crowds held at bay by metal dividers to create a path for the car. Had the citizens decided to protest after all?
You purse your lips and swallow thickly at the sight of several news vans and a thicket of flashing cameras. The crowd, initially standing around idly, is spurred into action at the arrival of the limousine, pushing against the barriers and craning over others to catch a better look. You don’t know what to make of the clamor, and Hakyeon answers your unasked questions.
“The news of your return broke early this morning.” Hakyeon looks straight ahead, hands folded in his lap and voice betraying nothing. You know your cousin has many years of playing the imperious monarch on you, but in this moment you feel the gulf in experience particularly strongly.
“The paparazzi move quick,” you say tersely, trying to hide how much your breathing has quickened.
“The paparazzi had nothing to do with it,” interjects Jaehwan suddenly with a side glance toward Hakyeon.
You’re struck with a sudden sense of alarm as your eyes snap to your cousin’s. “Did you do something?”
“You were tailed yesterday.” Hakyeon’s face is stone, as impassive and unfeeling as yours is alarmed and shaken. “The King and his administration know of your presence, and it would only be a matter of time before the news spread. At least this way we can control the narrative.”
"Of course," you mutter. The anxiety is taking over your mind, so you default to anger. "Of course we were tailed."
“The King had a man following us around to every location we hit yesterday," Jaehwan adds unhelpfully. "He stopped sometime before we got back to the apartment, but it’s likely the King knows about that location anyway.”
“You were going to tell me this when, bodyguard?”
Jaehwan shrugs. “I’m telling you now.”
"This is nothing we hadn't already anticipated," Hakyeon hastily interjects before the two of you can start arguing.
In any case, you’re halted in your thoughts as the limousine passes through the official gates to the tower grounds, cutting off the bustling crowd from the kingdom’s highest administration. You catch a glimpse of a long set of marble steps before the view outside is swallowed by the walls of the tower. It’s hard to make out much beyond the dark tinted windows, so you settle for staring at the floor and counting your breaths. The ride continues steadily over the next few minutes, during which a stifling sort of silence has fallen over the three of you inside. The darkness of the tunnel you’ve entered is punctuated by the flash of guiding lights every few seconds, ramping up your already racing heartbeat.
“Don’t start hyperventilating now,” comes from your left in Jaehwan’s smooth tenor. You shoot him a glare, but the effect is rather diminished by the lack of light.
Hakyeon's voice is quiet and steady as he says, "We're in the VIP tunnel. Flattering as the name may be, we're really just going through high levels of security. There is no access to the King's office from the public entrance."
"What kind of security?" Somehow, focusing on the details helps you ground yourself to the moment.
You hear Hakyeon shift in his seat slightly. “The usual scans, identification, some biometrics. Only the security team knows the full details, but I’ve gone through the checks several times myself.”
You suck in a deep breath and force yourself to let it out slowly. The car continues on for a minute longer before coming slowly to a stop. The door to your right opens suddenly to a man bent over in a deep bow.
"Good morning, Your Highness. I trust your trip was comfortable?"
Hakyeon steps out smoothly, buttoning his suit jacket as he stands. “Thank you, Ryu. The car was most appreciated.”
The man then extends a gloved hand to help you out of the limousine. Jaehwan hops out the other side without a glance back, and you have no choice but to take the offered hand. Gingerly you step out onto the concrete floor, balanced by the aide’s arm. The light is dim in the underground VIP garage. You make out a fleet of dark limousines very similar to the one you just exited, all adorned with the navy and gold livery of Asadal, waiting in the surrounding spots. Large vents and cold fluorescent lights are built into the ceiling high above, providing a cavernous quality to the garage. Your feet are illuminated by lights built into the concrete platform spelling out “Council Chamber and Main Royal Entrance”, with a small bay of elevators laying just beyond.
“Welcome, Princess. It’s wonderful to have you back in the kingdom.” The aide’s ear-to-ear smile makes you think the sentiment is genuine, but you can only manage a small incline of your head in response. Hakyeon strides ahead to the central elevator, which opens at his approach without prompting. You follow along less confidently with the aide at your side, trailed by Jaehwan to your back.
The elevator is large enough that the three of you can stand without touching elbows, but you still feel suffocated by the gleaming metal walls and the presence of the government official. Bespectacled and clad in a dove gray suit, he’s hardly the most intimidating man, but you are ever wary of strangers. Hakyeon absentmindedly checks his watch again while the aide fills him in on the details of the meeting.
"The King is in with Magistrate Moon currently, but he's scheduled to be done by the time we clear processing. The princess's data shouldn't take long, but it's good to be thorough."
"What do you mean, my data?" you interject.
The aide starts as if he'd forgotten you could speak. "Oh, it's just simple protocol Your Highness—" He's cut off by a ding as the elevator opens to a brightly lit lobby.
Despite being such a high-profile area, the lobby itself is fairly sparse. Hakyeon shuffles you through past a set of cushy armchairs and a table, which honestly feel like a decoy more than anything, into a blank white hallway. At the end are several full-body scanners glowing a neon green. Hakyeon strides through them proudly without pause, and you have no choice but to follow. Despite having nothing on your person to cause suspicion, some irrational part of you blanches as you walk through the scanners. Thankfully, you walk out the other side with no incident.
You let out an unnecessarily-held breath and are immediately shuffled into a side room. There's not a lot to the space save for a few monitors and seemingly medical equipment. The sting of antiseptic tickles your nose and the extreme sterility in fluorescent lighting gives you an uneasy feeling. Confused, you look to Hakyeon for guidance, only to be met with the passively smiling face of Jaehwan. Hakyeon is instead just outside the door talking to a woman in a white lab coat. If he senses your eyes on him, he gives no indication. The woman, however, turns and flashes you a smile, striding into the room with clipboard in hand.
“Good morning, Your Highness,” she chirps with a quick bow in your general direction before shuffling off to some equipment on a far counter. You shift your feet nervously, glancing again at Hakyeon. He checks his watch again and joins you inside the room, leaving the aide outside.
“This won’t take very long at all, we have the entire process streamlined,” says the woman from the counter, pulling various equipment out of shelves and inspecting them. “My name is Dr. Yang, and I will be administering your locator chip today.”
“My locator chip?” The words come out shriller than you intend, and you see Hakyeon wince out of the corner of your eye.
"It's just for security purposes," he says quickly in a low voice. "It's necessary for being in the VIP parts of the building."
"It's very small," the doctor reassures. "You won't feel a thing!"
You swallow roughly and take a few steps back. "Hakyeon, could I speak to you for a moment?" You wait for him walk closer before mouthing, "What the fuck?"
He glances at Jaehwan, who has also joined your little enclave, and crosses his arms. "I know you don't like it, but there's no other way to speak with the King."
You snort. "I didn't want to meet with him in the first place if you remember."
Hakyeon purses his lips and exhales an impatient little sigh. "I know, and I know this whole thing is a mess. There are certain concessions that just have to be made. Security is tight around here; we all have a tracker to monitor our movement around the building." To make his point clearer, he extends his thumb. Jaehwan says nothing but absently scratches his left wrist.
"This is some insane surveillance state nonsense, Hakyeon," you hiss. You weren't expecting to just prance into the King's office, but the idea of having his influence literally implanted in you? Your skin is crawling without anything even having happened. It monitors your location at that? Not to mention what else could be in there that isn’t being disclosed to the public.
“Our last royal family died,” Jaehwan chimes in an almost singsong way. You meet his eyes with a glare that does nothing to budge the pleasant look on his face. “Counter measures had to be taken.”
Somehow Jaehwan’s stern look behind his sunny smile rattles you more than Hakyeon’s impatient pushing. You hold their gazes for a beat longer before looking down and swinging back around to the doctor. We’re not done talking about this, Hakyeon.
To her credit, Dr. Yang has maintained the utmost professionalism through your little meltdown. She stands next to a leather stool holding a tablet in one hand, patting the seat gently with the other. You stride over, head held high as you can, and sit down delicately. You can just touch the floor with your toes from this height, and you grip the edges of the seat with your hands, feeling as if on the precipice of something you can’t walk away from.
“There’s nothing to be nervous about,” starts Dr. Yang, handing you the tablet. “The chip is microscopic and is only inserted into the topmost layer of the epidermis, so you won’t even feel the insertion. The shallow location is so that the chip can be removed through your body’s natural shedding of its skin cells, meaning there’s no hassle to dig back in there when you’re done here.”
Pain is hardly the thing you’re worried about. You swipe down through the extensive legalese on the tablet, which seems to be a permission form of sorts. There is no option not to grant it. “What’s the purpose of this chip, just to monitor my location?” you ask while signing your name with the attached stylus.
The doctor nods. “It follows your presence through the building, and only within the building. There are additional forms to detail your identity and security clearance, but of course you don’t need any sort of verification on that front, Your Highness.” She ends her sentence with a tinkle of a laugh, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes.
You hand the tablet back, wishing you could examine the system yourself. Undoubtedly it’s a database keyed to the individual chips, but you wonder what tech they’re using to detect the trackers throughout the building. And how much interference they could handle before they fry. Dr. Yang returns, having deposited the tablet on the counter, with gloved hands and a metal pen.
“Now, as I said, the chip is inserted in the first layer of skin, for which we’ll need a particularly dense area so it stays put for the time being.” She tears open a packet of antiseptic and smiles. “If you’ll please extend your index finger?” You've got half a mind to offer her your middle finger instead, but you grit your teeth and uncurl your left index finger. A quick swipe of the alcohol-soaked wipe later, she presses the pen to your finger, cold and solid.
“Wait.” You take your finger back, clenching your hand into a fist. You look up, eyes darting to Hakyeon’s. Impassive as he is, you think you see some hint of guilt in his gaze, and dark circles under his own layers of concealer. Jaehwan, for his part, simply looks on boredly.
“Is something wrong?” Dr. Yang has taken a step back and is looking at you with concern.
You swallow, throat very dry all of a sudden, and shake your head. “No, it’s fine.” You extend your finger again, the nails of your other hand digging into your palm. “Go ahead.”
The doctor clicks her tongue and opens another packet of antiseptic. “You have no idea how many people come through here with a serious fear of needles,” she says, wiping down your finger again, even more gently than the last time. “All these big Councilmen, afraid of a little poke!” She chortles to herself and presses the pen down.
True to her words, you feel nothing.
You hop off the stool as soon as she pulls the pen away. The nausea from this morning has returned with a vengeance, which it tends to do when you indulge your anxiety rather than dissipating it. The doctor bows in goodbye and before you know it, you are ushered out the door by Hakyeon.
From there it’s a short walk to another bank of elevators. “That was very quick, wasn’t it?” starts the aide. “We’re a little ahead of schedule, so I thought perhaps we could show the Princess around the Council chambers and then—”
Hakyeon cuts him off abruptly. “Thank you Ryu, but that won’t be necessary. I think we can take it from here. Please send the alert upstairs to let them know we’re coming.”
The aide blinks. “The King is likely still in his meeting, Your Highness, if you’ll—”
Hakyeon halts his speech again with a swift raise of his hand. “I’m aware of the King’s schedule. Be on your way.”
The ease and confidence with which your cousin addresses the aide is weirdly comforting. Hakyeon is Crown Prince. Hakyeon can handle this. You are just playing a part, but Hakyeon, he's the real deal.
The aide makes a quick bow and disappears down a side hallway. Hakyeon wastes no time in calling down an elevator, and before long you’re ensconced in tense silence again. You feel eyes on you, but resolutely look forward. In the shiny metal of the elevator doors you see Hakyeon’s reflection turn to face you properly.
“Doing ok?”
You flick your gaze to him for but a second. Your jaw is starting to hurt from grinding your teeth so hard, and you keep compulsively rubbing your thumb against your other fingers. “I’m—” comes out in a rasp, your throat bone-dry. You swallow and try again. “I’m fine.”
Hakyeon’s eyes don’t leave your face, and Jaehwan is now looking at you with an expression somewhere between curiosity and amusement. “I’m fine, it’s fine,” you reiterate, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze. “It just—” you start, then stop. It just terrifies me. It just makes me want to rip off my own skin. “It got too real,” you say quietly. Jaehwan chuckles, a soft gust of air through his nostrils and the crinkling curl of one corner of his mouth.
Your glare at his reflection is cut short when the doors suddenly open to blinding light. This lobby is much busier than the last, with people scurrying to and fro, disappearing off into more elevators and hallways. As Hakyeon leads you into the mess, you notice several people stop right in their tracks and make very low but very quick bows in your general direction. You get a cursory glance out the glass walls to where the rest of the city sprawls before Hakyeon stops before what seems to be the main elevator, all chrome and gold leaf. A press of his palm to a nearby touchpad opens the doors to reveal elegant carpeting and crystal-studded walls. You roll your eyes at the predictable opulence.
Following Hakyeon into the elevator, you turn around only to find that Jaehwan hasn’t joined as usual. You blink. “Where are you going?”
“Shh, secret mission,” he says in a hiss. The last thing you see before the doors close is Jaehwan’s grin with a finger pressed to his lips.
What secret mission? You feel the tug of gravity as the elevator glides upward and furrow your brows. “You put Jaehwan on some other task?”
Hakyeon rolls his eyes. “He’s being dramatic. He’s just gone to talk to some old friends at my suggestion.”
You’re well aware of who Jaehwan’s old friends are. “The Swords are loyal only to the King,” you say, on edge again at the remembrance of Jaehwan’s involvement in the special forces.
Hakyeon ignores your statement in favor of some last-minute pep talk. “I know you must be feeling apprehensive, but I have full trust in your ability to sway my father. I’m positive you can assure him you’re not a threat, and it won’t be hard, since you’ve been away for so long. You’re hardly a scheming politician after all, and—”
“I get it, Hakyeon.” You cut off his rambling, nerves raw and screaming. “Play nice, or die.”
The elevator opens again to two guards — Swords, speak of the devil — and an otherwise empty hallway. They bow as Hakyeon exits, the barest hint of a frown on his face. You follow, trying your best to match his confident strides. Think simpering sycophant thoughts. Should you pretend to be happy to see your uncle? Grateful to be back in your— no, his kingdom?
The hallway turns a corner and leads to the most nondescript wooden doors you’ve ever seen. The double doors are handleless and flanked by four-foot tall ceramic vases holding each a cascade of orchids. You can’t see any physical indication as to the importance of these doors, but your heart pounds harder with every step forward. As if sensing your hesitation, Hakyeon stops just short and turns to you.
“I’m not going to lie and say this will be easy,” he starts. His gaze is too difficult to hold, so you turn your eyes to a blank spot on the wall just behind his ear. “But this has to be done, for better or worse. Are you ready?”
No, you think to yourself. In what world could you ever be ready to face the instigator of all your nightmares?
“Yes,” you say.
Hakyeon gives you a quick, terse nod and raises his hand. He raps his knuckles against the wood of the door twice, the beats ringing out in the quiet hallway.
#vixx#vixx fanfic#vixx fanfiction#vixx au#ken#vixx ken#lee jaehwan#cha hakyeon#idol x reader#ken x reader#kpop fanfic#vixx n#f: hiraeth#dear god i'm so sorry for the wait#it's been like a year#as always thank you for reading#feedback is appreciated#i swear the next one will be sooner#kpopwritingnet
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Cup of Coffee ~ Chapter 1|N.JM
Hello! I am back! Sorry about not updating, but I was extremely busy with school ;-; Luckily, I have another 2 weeks off, therefore I will continuing to update more frequently! I hope everyone stays safe!! And thank you all for reading, I hope you enjoy <3
Chapter 1| Preview
Jaemin x Reader - Mostly Fluff, Traces of Angst
A coffee shop is not just about a “cup of coffee”; rather it is a symbol of a thorough experience.
It’s a journey a customer takes from the moment he or she lays eyes on a cafe storefront for the very first time to when they approach it, enter the place, order their coffee and have it over and over for the hundredth time.
Word Count: 1.3K
The morning sunlight sweeps through my curtains, and my arm drapes over my eyes to shield them from the blinding rays entering through my window. I am not enamoured with the thought of exiting the comfort of my warm blankets, yet nonetheless, I force my half-asleep body into a sitting position against my assortment of pillows. I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with fresh air, watching the world around me come into focus.
I shift around in my comfortable fortress of blankets some more, feeling tempted to fall back asleep for another ten minutes. The urge to feed my stomach is stronger, motivating me to unceremoniously lift my sheets and exit my room, tiredly combing my fingers through my unkempt hair.
I walk into my kitchen, observing my roommate, Lisa, who is quietly sipping her morning cup of java. I inhale the lingering smell of roasted coffee beans while looking for a clean mug.
Even when half-asleep, Lisa looked drop-dead gorgeous. Her tall elegant frame was hunched over the island counters in the centre of the room. Her hair was messy, but straight, and jet black. If I stood close enough to her, I would be able to smell the vanilla notes in her shampoo from her shiny hair that was washed yesterday evening. She was still lounging around in her pyjamas, an oversized plain white t-shirt which just slightly exposed her collarbones, and which bunched up around her pair of grey plaid shorts. The area around her nose was littered with soft, faint freckles and her large captivating copper-coloured eyes stared back at me.
"Hey," Lisa muttered, her voice still laced with sleep. She continues, "You forgot to buy groceries yesterday". I strolled over to the fridge and glanced inside. She was right. There was nothing there except a couple condiment bottles and the leftovers of Chinese take-out out noodles that I had purchased earlier this week. This wasn’t even my first full month of the semester at my University and I still managed to eat like I've been starved for days, every day. What can I say? I looove food.
I still felt bad for not buying the groceries even though it was my week to do so. "Sorry, I'll go out and buy some later today," I replied. Suddenly, the tiredness disappeared from her eyes and she stared me down with a shit-eating grin on her face. "It's okay. Besides, as revenge, I already drank the rest of the coffee".
"What? Are you kidding?” Spoiler Alert! She wasn’t.
I groaned so loud that I was sure the neighbours could hear me through the paper-thin walls of our apartment. Furiously, I glanced at the time that was being displayed on the empty coffee machine.
7:15 am
My first class, unfortunately, started at 8:30. As a biotechnology major at university that I attend, I so luckily had organic chemistry at the beginning of the day. (obviously sarcasm) I wish that I could sleep through my class and simply watch the lectures online, but sadly, this course was one of the many that I am taking this semester that does attendance regularly. Consuming my daily intake of coffee was a necessity every morning to keep me awake. Therefore, it was decided that I would have to pay a visit to one of the nearby cafes on campus.
Cafes in all their glory, are the worst. They are crowded places that have the longest lines, sell overpriced drinks and the food is less than desirable. I don't know many pastry desserts and club sandwiches that improve by sitting around all day in a glass container, under artificial lights. But alas, I trudge over in the direction of my room and search for an outfit to wear under my pile of clothes in my closet.
ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ•ᴥ•ʔ•ᴥ•ʔ•ᴥ•ʔ•ᴥ•ʔ
Moments before I exit the shared apartment, Lisa comes running up to the door, and clumsily searches for a pair of shoes to slip on. My roommate looks stunning, like always, as she adorns a pale blue t-shirt with lace trim accents, neatly tucked into a light beige mini skirt. I can also see the subtle red lip tint that she applied onto her plump lips.
"I'm going with you, I promised to get breakfast for Mark," she informs me while haphazardly, slipping on her favourite pair of gold sandals. I snicker as I hear the name of Lisa's crush slipping through her lips. She developed feelings for Mark Lee, our mutual friend who shares a class with Lisa later in the day. I nod my head, signaling to her that I understood her words, and opened the door, while she adjusted the delicate gold coin pendant that hung around her neck.
I'm counting my steps, letting my feet hit the pavement, Lisa trailing slowly behind. Her soothing voice and the honking of cars along the busy streets is the only thing I let myself hear. Soon enough, I look up and see the unfamiliar sight before my eyes.
The cafe in the blazing sunlight looks more comfortable than I had remembered. I rarely pass by this particular street anyways, as I prefer to take the shortcut that I discovered while once getting lost on my way to the campus. I somehow always leave the house 5 minutes later than I am supposed to, no matter how early I wake up, and therefore, had to find a solution to solve my tardiness.
Outside the cafe, there is a menu standing on the ground, outlining the daily special. Obliging to Lisa's calls, I step through the large glass doors. The building's concept itself plays on the warmth of natural earthy textures with modern classic colours, giving the café a contemporary and down-to-earth look and feel. This modern and earthy look is achieved through the use of contrasting neutral and bright colour palettes, natural textures, and premium lighting fixtures with rustic accents. There are large windows that allow the sunlight's rays to seep through and cast a glow upon the counters. There are also lively, green plants, and lovely hanging succulents scattered throughout the room.
"Hey, have you decided what to order yet? You're going to be late for your class if you keep staring like that." Lisa's voice snaps me out of my dazed trance. Truthfully, I have not yet decided what expensive drink I would like to indulge in, being too busy secretly admiring my surroundings and the decoration of the coffee shop. I would never tell Lisa or myself this, my stubbornness making an appearance, and is set on passionately disliking cafes in all their glory. "What are you getting Lisa?" I ask her, addressing the girl who stood beside me by her name.
"A caramel macchiato with extra whipped cream and a watermelon lemonade for Mark", she replies, in a sing-song voice, excited that I seem curious for once about her order. I was planning to buy the same drink but soon realized what a big mistake that was, as I was not interested in consuming a sickly sweet liquid. I also wouldn't have thought that a cafe would sell watermelon-flavoured drinks, but I guess you learn something new every day.
"That's cool", I respond, "And I'm sure that Mark would like that", ending the conservation as Lisa walks confidently up to the counter to place her order. It was also no secret between any of Mark's friends that he loved watermelon. I'm sure that even the campus knew about his slight obsession since he only takes shots of watermelon-flavoured liquor if they have a bottle of it at frat parties. We always make sure to buy one if the events were being hosted at his shared apartment.
Feeling awkward standing alone next to the entrance door, I mustered all the courage that I had in me at 8 am, and following Lisa's actions, I walked up to the unoccupied counter.
#fanfiction#fanfic#kpop fanfiction#nct#nct senarios#nct reactions#nct 127#nct fluff#nct fanfic#nct fanfiction#kpop writing#kpopwritingnet#nctwriters#nct u#nct dream#wayv#SM#na jaemin#jaemin#jaemin fluff#jaemin fanfiction#aesthetic#nct imagines#nct jaemin#nct dream jaemin#fluff#angst#jaemin angst#nct angst#x reader
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this movie has a twist ending.
SUMMARY. In which you and Jungkook are famous-actors-turned-ex-lovers and the last thing you want to do is act out a reunion scene with him.
PAIRING. jeon jungkook x reader
GENRE. fluff + angst + a vague attempt at humor (?)
WORD COUNT. 1,543
WARNINGS. none!
NOTES. this was kind of a wild card in terms of my wips bc the idea for it kind of popped out of nowhere and i wanted to work on it right away! i hope you enjoy it nonetheless ♡
p.s. thank you mia, or @taenchanted, for your help with this piece! your advice and love will never go unnoticed!!
You don’t need to look behind you to know that Jungkook is staring at you.
It’s all he’s been able to do since he arrived on set this morning— stealing glances at you from the snack table, trying to catch your gaze through your vanity mirror, and now, blatantly staring at you as he gets his makeup done. You wish he’d just grow a pair and I don’t know, just talk to me but then you realize that talking isn’t an option; ever since you stormed out of Jungkook’s penthouse three months ago, effectively ending what would be your final argument, you are silenced by the tension that lingers between the two of you, the only thing to survive from the remnants of your relationship.
You’re aware that things didn’t exactly end the way you wanted them to. You’re also aware that the devastating fight that ended your relationship is your fault, that you are the reason that the two years you’ve spent with Jungkook has crumbled into a mess of unsaid words and dried tears. There’s no way you can fix the irreversible damage, nor is there any way for you to act upon the small inkling of desire within you that yearns for Jungkook to be back in your life, for the catastrophe is so great that it’s best to leave it that way so as not to risk another goodbye.
Needless to say, you’re better off ignoring him.
Your stylist, though, doesn’t.
“Are you okay?” she asks as she shrugs a jacket over your shoulders. There’s a familiar hint of intimidation in her tone, the same voice that you hate when people use because they’re too afraid to recognize that you’re a normal person like them, too.
“Yeah,” you lie. “Why do you ask?”
“No reason, I just… I heard about what happened and I figured—”
You raise an eyebrow. “And what exactly happened?”
Wordlessly and shamefully, your stylist takes out her phone and hands it to you, showing you the #1 trending news article on social media right now.
[BREAKING] Actor Jeon Jungkook seen leaving singer Kim Chungha’s apartment after date at a bar; Jeon’s agency denies further relationship between the two
Huh. What else is new?
At some point, you began to build a wall around your heart so strong that its cold exterior could withstand the insurmountable pain you felt whenever you saw Jungkook’s name in the news with a different girl. If it were any other day, you would’ve looked away from the phone and continued on with your life no matter how broken you felt without Jungkook.
But there’s something— maybe it’s the fact that you’ve become so used to seeing the headline when you shouldn’t or the fact that Jungkook is so close to you when he shouldn’t be in your life— that cracks the metal surface you spent so long carefully constructing, lets the pain seep through until the heartbreak feels as fresh as it did three months ago.
The stylist might have said something that sounded vaguely like a sheepish apology, but you’ve already pushed the phone away and stood up from your chair, walking to the location in determined strides. You’re not sure if the director has called for places yet, but you don’t really care; you just want to be as far away from that as possible, to see if you really can run away from your problems.
Releasing a deep breath in a vain attempt to regain composure, you find yourself on one side of a train platform; Jungkook stands on the other. Through the smudged glass of the train’s doors— the only thing that separates the two of you— you can see his face, albeit blurry and ill-defined. You can only chuckle at the irony of the situation. This must be the universe’s cruel metaphor for you and Jungkook’s relationship— never truly close and always something in the way.
You’re not sure why that makes you want to cry.
Somehow, you break out of your reverie just in time to hear the slate snap and the film director shout, “Action!”, forcing you to focus on the lines Jungkook helped you memorize all that time ago. The train lurches forward and leaves the station perfectly on cue, bringing with it a gust of wind that sweeps your hair into your eyes and pulls your clothes close to your body.
When the wind settles, the first thing you see is Jungkook.
Upon sight of Jungkook— or, well, Haneul, as his character is named— you avert your gaze and begin to push your way through the crowd, desperate to widen the distance between you and him. Jungkook follows you with a pair of widened eyes and a quickened pace as he, too, shoulders through the throng of passengers. Though Jungkook calls out to you— to Mae— you pretend as if you can’t hear him and hasten your swift steps in response.
You’re about to take the last footsteps needed to reach the exit of the train station when someone steps in your path, physically preventing you from leaving. You don’t need to look up to know that Jungkook is staring at you.
“Please, let me go,” you weakly beg, trying to maneuver out of his way.
“I’m sorry, Mae,” Jungkook replies, “but I’ve lost you once. I’m not ready to lose you again.”
With a defeated sigh, you lift your head up to face a breathless and pained Jungkook. You notice how his eyes are red as if he cried an ocean of tears, how his fingers twitch as if he longs to hold your hand again, how his jaw clenches as if he’s trying to repress the words that want to leave his mouth. His sadness looks too real, too raw, and you feel a pang of sorrow resound throughout your broken heart when you realize how similar he looks to the Jungkook you said goodbye to.
Suddenly, it begins to rain.
No one told me they were going to do this! you think as you hold your hands above ahead, trying— and failing— to keep yourself dry. You push your shock aside, though, and instead move past Jungkook, who catches your arm, once again stopping you from leaving.
“I said, let me go!” you repeat, your words more exasperated than the last.
But Jungkook doesn’t recite his line. He falters, falls silent as his body becomes drenched by the downpour, the raindrops hiding the tears rolling down his cheeks.
Instead, he whispers, “Y/N.”
Hearing your real name slip from Jungkook’s lips causes you to turn towards him, his soft-spoken tone deafening despite the roar of the storm. Somewhere in the distance, you can hear the director yell at Jungkook to stick to the script, but he can’t— or won’t— hear him. The world slows as it always does when you and Jungkook are together until all that matters is you, him, and the rain.
Then, “You were right.”
“What?” you ask, confusion written all over your expression. All at once, the lines you memorized seem like a distant memory.
“Those things you said to me the night before you… left.” Jungkook winces. It’s as if speaking those words into existence physically pain him. “Everything you said was right.”
“So?” That night is not exactly something you want to remember. “Why does it matter now?”
“It matters because I know. I know why I was wrong.”
You shake your head. “What do you mean?”
“I wasn’t putting enough effort into the relationship. I wasn’t taking enough responsibility in the relationship. I wasn’t putting you before my career like we promised. I wasn’t happy, but you thought I wasn’t happy being with you.
“And that’s what I thought, too. I thought I would be happy with other people but… I’ve been miserable.
“I couldn’t understand why I was so miserable, though, but I know now. I was miserable because there isn’t a single day that goes by where I don’t think about you.”
Jungkook’s fingers reach out to find yours, but you recoil, despite how much you crave his touch as much as he craves yours.
“What are you doing?” you scream through the crash of the torrent. “You can’t change what happened between us.”
“No, I can’t. But I can change what happens now.”
“How?”
“By telling you that an infinity of ‘I miss you’s will never be enough to tell you how deeply in love with you I still am. By telling you that I should’ve stopped you from walking out of my door three months ago like I’m doing right now. By telling you that I shouldn’t have given up on you— no, I shouldn’t have given up on us. What we have is something that should never be let go, not then, not now, not ever.”
When Jungkook looks into your eyes once more, you believe him.
This time, you do not pull away from Jungkook’s touch when he reaches out for you. Instead, you melt into Jungkook’s arms as he holds you tighter because you are his whole world and he will never let you go.
For you and Jungkook, a new beginning is uncertain, but it’s not a goodbye, and for now, that’s enough.
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How would Got7 pin you against the wall?
Mark
•pushes you against the way in a passive aggressive way
•starts out clearly playful, he’s probably tickling you or trapping you to persuade you into doing something for him
•it’s when you notice how close the two of you are there’s a sudden shift in the room
•it’s sad how quickly the mood in the room can change, something so sinful coming out of something so innocent
•He’s the one to initiate it, hands cupping your face
•He softly presses his body against yours, successfully pinning you against the wall, giving you no room for escape
•’So we doing this?’ Every trip...
Jaebum
•Certainly the one to push you against the wall when he’s pissed
•You were a little too friendly with the waiter, or that random guy onthe dance floor and it didn’t go unnoticed by Jaebum
•He gives you no time to react
•Likes to have you facing the way, your ass toward him
•Grabs your hair to hold you into place
•He’s going to fuck you against that wall
•’Why are you such a disobedient slut?’
Jackson
•This man has mood swings like idols do wardrobe changes
•He pushes you against the wall when you’re running away from him and his crazy antics
•Or he pushes you against the wall when you’re pissing him off
•Jackson is easily angered, so it’s more likely it’s the latter
•Wants you to face him as he punishes you
•Is the one to hitch your leg on his hip
•’Only sluts like being fucked against a wall’
Jinyoung
•Easily the kinkiest in the group, loves fucking you everywhere but in bed
•He has a thing for the wall though
•Is the one to pin you against the wall by softly grabbing your hair and holding you in place
•If your back is to him he loves rubbing against your ass
•Will most likely fuck you in that position as well
•Let us make it very very clear, this boy is an ass man
•’Fuck! Your ass jiggles with every thrust’
Youngjae
•Easily the non-kinkiest in the group, I don’t care! I don’t care!
•He’s used to subbing
•Is only going to pin you against the wall with your permission
•Presses his body against yours because he craves the closeness and warmth,
•Easily loses himself and is overwhelmed,
•On a good day he can take charge
•’I don’t think we should fuck against a wall’
BamBam
•Also very kinky
•Will use anything as an excuse to pin you against the wall, ‘oh my bad, had to get my keys’
•Easily takes charge of the situation, given your surprise
•Is the one that likes dry humping for a short while, he wants you to feel what he’s about to wreck you with
•Is the one to fuck you in any position, he claims he doesn’t have a favorite
•Likes wrapping his hand around your throat when hitting it from behind and likes both your legs around his waist when you’re facing him
•’Do you feel me in your guts baby?’
Yugyeom
•One is my ultimate switches
•Is usually the one to pin you against the wall though
•Likes to start off with grinding himself against your ass then he turns you around
•Is a show off and will probably go down on you
•You’ve become pretty flexible since the two of you started dating
•Likes to have your knees by your ears
•’I want you to feel every inch of me’
#admin tay#kpocwriters#kpopwritingnet#kreativenetwork#thewritersnetwork#got7#got7 smut#got7 reactions#got7 scenarios#mark tuan#mark tuan smut#mark tuan scenarios#im jaebum#im jaebum smut#im jaebum scenarios#jackson wang#jackson wang smut#jackson wang scenarios#park jinyoung#park jinyoung smut#park jinyoung scenarios#bambam#bambam smut#bambam scenarios#kim yugyeom#kim yugyeom smut#kim yugyeom scenarios
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A Rearrangement (Preview)
Pairing: Jae x Female Reader, ft. DAY6, Kard, and Mina
Genre: Arranged Marriage AU, Angst, Romance
Summary: Blackmailed by your parents, you’re forced to alter your life plan and enter an arranged marriage with the male heir of the Park family. The even bigger surprise comes when you find out that heir is your friend Jae. Thrust together, as the two of you become closer than before, will it strengthen your friendship or be the unexpected start of something else?
You always imagined the path to doom would be violent, dark, and storm-filled. Who knew it would actually be paved in gold-veined marble and lined in bouquets of hydrangeas and lily of the valley bound in silk ribbons in slender silver vases. But then, only the finest auction block would do.
The temptation to fidget grows as you wait with your parents in the quietly decadent lobby. Your feet beg to be free of the pointed heels, too accustomed to sensible flats. The chiffon dress is light and beautiful, you won’t deny that, but it feels like a lie. Dresses like this are for special occasions, not a dinner. Even getting dinner during a normal hour seems odd given you’re usually too busy dealing with a revolving door of patients. Patients who you could be helping with now but—
It is only years of training keeps you from crying out when your mother delivers a sharp pinch to your underarm.
“Smile. You look like you’re attending a funeral,” she hisses beneath her breath, a gracious curve pasted on her own mouth.
“Aren’t I?” you whisper back. Your impudence is rewarded with another pinch, but every bit of defiance is worth it. If nothing else comes of this, you remind yourself, soon she won’t be able to touch you or anyone and anything you hold dear.
“It appears the other party is already here,” the tuxedo-clad concierge tells your father. “Shall I lead you to the room?”
With all the dignity befitting an assemblyman, your father nods and lifts his arm, looking back at the two of you. Another part of your heart breaks away at that look. The warmth that lay in your father’s eyes when you were a child is no more than a memory. Cool calculations necessary of a career politician extinguished it long ago. Instead of his only child, all he sees is another bargaining chip. Until yesterday, you were able to lie to yourself that an ember of affection still survived. But no more. That delusion is dead, forever buried alongside the many other dreams slaughtered by your parents.
“Remember what is at stake for your father,” your mother whispers as she releases your arm to reach for your father’s. “Remember what is at stake for you.”
As if you could forget. Otherwise, you would be hundreds of thousands of miles away. You would be penniless but for the paltry savings you squirreled away, friendless but for the few who didn’t know your family, homeless but for your own skin. And it would be worth it to be completely out of reach of their conniving hands. Free, totally and completely, for the first time in your life. But she was right. What was at risk was far greater than you.
You fall in behind your parents, precisely three steps as you’d been drilled since your father first ran for public office. Shoulders back and spine straight, chin up and eyes forward. None of the growing trepidation or swirling sick feeling in your stomach betrayed in your countenance. A true lady just as they wanted. If they could have, they would have broken and reconstructed your soul in their image as well. But you had at least held out on that.
The concierge reaches a plain, eggshell-colored door flanked by two more bouquets. He knocks, then opens the door for your parents. You stick out your fingers to subtly touch the flowers as you pass through the door. The fragile silk softer than the real fabric proves they’re real. As real as the people within are fake, your parents included.
An older couple are the only obvious occupants, rising from their seats at a rectangular table set with exquisite crystal and silver that twinkles in the light streaming from the bay windows. Distinguished gray touches the man’s hair while the woman’s is jet black, doubtlessly dyed to hide the age that lies in the makeup-covered wrinkles around her eyes and mouth. Both are simply but finely dressed. Yet together, you know their wardrobe costs enough to send a student to a decent university for a year. At least.
The stink of old wealth, enhanced by the surroundings, is as heavy on them as your mother’s perfume. You hate it.
The man rises, smile broad and hand outstretched. “Assemblyman! Welcome!”
“Good to see you again, Mr. Park,” your father replies, shaking his hand and flashing that million-watt smile he practices in the mirror for the press and donors. “Especially on such a joyous occasion.”
“Yes, indeed. So this is your daughter.” Mr. Park’s gaze falls to you.
You steel your back against the shiver of disgust you feel as his eyes openly sweep you up and down. His wife follows suite from behind him. You can’t help the feeling that they would have pried your mouth open like a prize horse if you weren’t in a more civilized age. The irony of that thought amid your situation almost distracts you enough to give a real smile.
“Not as beautiful as her picture, but her career and your prestige will make up for that. She will be a welcome addition to our family,” Mr. Park says approvingly.
Bile rises unbidden from the bottom of your stomach with revulsion. Who the hell is he to judge you, let alone speak such an opinion out loud. You inwardly scoff. Just proof money cannot buy manners or decency.
“Where is your son?” your mother asks, looking around.
Mr. Park’s smile tightens a fraction. “He was temporarily detained at an appointment, but he’ll be here shortly. No need to worry. He’ll be here to sign the marriage contract.”
Marriage contract. Those words are enough to make the embarrassment at Mr. Park’s callous comments evaporate, replaced by the unforgiving chill of reality.
Today, you’re getting engaged to a stranger. To say the idea doesn’t terrify you would be the most vile lie. The idea of being “tied forever” to someone you’ve never met, never even seen, makes you sick. It makes you want to shrink, crawl away, and mourn. It makes you want to roar, storm, and seize your autonomy back. But all you can do is stand and wait, your face the vaguely interested mask you have perfected to a fault.
Mr. Park steps back and gestures to the table. “Shall we?”
Men in trim tuxedos silently appear to pull out your chairs. Mr. Park and your father take seats opposite each other, then Mrs. Park and your mother. You sit across from the empty chair. The chair where your soon-to-be fiance will soon sit.
Beside you, the older adults talk among themselves. Whether they speak of social niceties, specifics of the pre-nuptial contract, or plans for the wedding, you don’t know. Their words are noise in your ears and they make no effort to include you in the conversation. It doesn’t surprise you. You’re accustomed to it and you’re glad of it. They don’t deserve the civility you would be expected to produce. Not to mention your temper is shortened by the lack of sleep caused by an anxious patient’s hours-long call last night.
There’s a knock at the door and your heart stops. It’s him.
Demon or angel. Brat or saint. Executioner or savior. Bane or mate.
There’s no way to know and no way out. If someone in this day and age would agree to such a bond, he’s either an idiot, a pushover, or a victim like you.
You steel yourself for disappointment or pity, determined to keep any emotion to yourself. These parasites won’t get anything else from you.
The door opens and a slightly rumpled, lanky man ambles in. His long black overcoat covers a slate-gray suit jacket with matching pants and dark burgundy turtleneck. His blond hair is ruffled, streaked with bold swathes of highlights, and longer than you would expect of a wealthy scion. His messy bangs brushing the lenses of his round, gold-rimmed glasses.
Your mouth drops open. How…
“Sorry I’m late,” he says without a smile or sincerity. “I was—”
When his eyes fall to you, his mouth mirrors yours. You quickly snap your jaw back together and give the smallest shake of your head.
Don’t let them know.
His mother gives a polite cough to try to call him back. When he continues staring, his father speaks for him. “This is our son, Jaehyung.”
So that’s Jae’s real name.
Your father immediately gets up and holds out his hand. “Pleasure to meet you, son.”
“I remember your hair being black this morning,” Mr. Park says, addressing his son as he greets your father. “Was there a mistake at the salon?”
Recovering from his surprise, Jae’s mouth twitches like it wants to smirk at the clear disapproval in his father’s voice. He smooths his hair, takes his seat and answers simply. “No.”
His parents’ mouths thin, but the first course being served saves Jae from further reprimand. The conversation picks up where it left off, articulated by the clink of silverware.
Again, you’re not invited to participate, but neither is Jae. You push the salad around with your fork, flipping the leaves as your mind attempts comprehension. Admiration for Jae’s blatant rebellion only briefly interrupts the bewilderment swirling around your head.
Jae, your friend since he almost killed you with his skateboarding antics in university and who constantly crashes on your couch to whine about being broke. This same man who usually dresses in some version of a T-shirt, jeans, and or plaid shirt combo and seems to have a guitar permanently attached to his hands. Reconciling him with the put-together heir in front of you, your almost fiance, is proving difficult.
Though now, certain gaps in your knowledge of Jae make a bit more sense. Despite claiming to be perpetually broke, he never fails to pick up the latest shoes he’s been drooling over or new production equipment when his band, Day6, needs it. He never mentions his family. During university, he always found a friend to go home with on breaks.
Just like you.
Maybe that’s why you felt drawn to him, became and stayed friends. A silent and unconscious recognition of similar ghosts haunting your shadows.
Your phone quietly vibrates against your thigh. You ignore it.
Something nudges your foot. Lifting your eyes from your plate, you find Jae staring at you. He glances down towards your lap, frowning and jerking his chin when you don’t move.
With a peek at your mother to ensure she’s not paying attention, you slip your phone from the pocket hidden in your dress.
Meet me by the bathrooms.- Jae
You immediately stand, smiling as the Parks and your parents finally turn their attention to you. Lifting your phone, you say, “Please excuse me. The doctor on-call has a question about one of my patients. I have to call him back.” Disregarding your mother’s annoyed expression, you turn on your heel and walk out of the room.
After asking for directions, you find the bathrooms and wait in the alcove beside them. You don’t have long to wait before you hear Jae calling your name.
He jumps when you poke your head around the corner, but rushes over, grabbing your elbow to bring you back out of sight. “What the hell are you doing here?” he asks, his voice a hoarse whisper and his eyebrows nearly forced together with a frown.
“You asked me to meet you here.”
“Not here, smartass,” Jae says, rolling his eyes. “I mean here here.”
“I could be asking you the same question, Jaehyung.” You pointedly look down at where he’s still holding you.
“Sorry.” Jae releases you, his hand immediately going to run through his hair. His mussing leaves it standing at odd angles so he looks more like the Jae you’re familiar with. You recognize the same struggle to reconcile your newly discovered realities on his face as well. “It's just... you’re the assemblyman’s daughter? You?”
“Sorry to disappoint,” you reply, not sparing the sarcasm. You sit on the bench and fold your arms, scrutinizing the friend you thought you knew. “But I guess we’re even.”
“What do you mean? You never your said your dad was an assemblyman.”
“And not once in all the years we’ve known each other, not once in all the times we fell asleep talking did you mention you were a friggin' heir, Jae. Never mind an heir of the Park family. You were probably born with twenty silver spoons in your mouth.”
Jae sighs and joins you, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall. “I didn’t say anything because I never wanted it. Who wants to own up to a family that only wants you to become their version of you, you know?”
“Preaching to the choir here.”
He opens his eyes with a frown and turns his head to you. “I never pegged you as a “yes, daddy” kind of girl. A goody-two-shoes with an overdeveloped savior complex, yeah. Definitely. But this? You really going along with this?”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” you retort with a roll of your eyes. “I thought we were friends.”
“We are, which is why I’m really freaking confused right now. You’re a doctor, dude. A modern woman. You’re always going on about women’s rights. Totally support by the way, but—”
“You really think I agreed to this for shits and giggles?” you cry, anger bubbling over. Everything you’ve held back since this morning boils out. “You think I like your father making me feel like a piece of meat and telling me to my face I’m ‘not as beautiful’ as my picture? Oh, wait, that would require him to address me directly like I had my own mind. Yeah, Jae, I just woke up yesterday and said to myself ‘Hey, let’s toss my entire personality, morals, and career aside and agree to get married to some rich guy so my dad can profit from the family-man image and new connections boost this election!’ That’s exactly what happened. No reason other than that.”
Jae is uncharacteristically silent after your outburst, studying you. You can’t really blame him. In the entire length of your friendship, you’ve only seriously raised your voice at him maybe once. He’s mentioned more than once that that fact is one your more attractive attributes.
Letting out a sigh of your own, you lean against the wall as well. You shouldn’t have yelled at him. He doesn’t deserve to be the recipient of your pent up frustrations. Picking at the skirt of your dress, you say, “You know my friend, Mina?”
“Yeah,” Jae replies with a shrug. “The dancer who’s at that super fancy dance school for ballet or something, right?”
“She’s there on a scholarship. A scholarship my mother is on the board for. My parents didn’t even bother being subtle about it. As soon as I told them they were crazy for suggesting this, they threatened to take the scholarship from Mina or even get her kicked out of the school. She can’t afford the tuition on their own. Jae, she loves that place and dancing so much and with that kind of training, she has a shot at so many opportunities. I couldn’t let them do that to her. It would kill her.”
His face becomes somber. “Ow…”
You give a half smile and a shrug. “Figured I could suffer through a few years of this marriage ‘til she finished, then find a way to get divorced.”
Jae reaches over and squeezes your hand. “You’re a really good friend.”
“Thanks.” You return the pressure and keep your hand in his. The reminder of humanity soothes some of the anger and hurt that sits like a boulder in your chest.
“Though I guess I am too,” he says. When you just look at him, waiting for an explanation, he lets out a bark of laughter. “And you yelled at me for being a bad friend, ya hypocrite. You think that I, Jae, the Jae, would say yes to this kind of backwards shit?”
“No.” Adopting an awful Manhattan accent, you ask, “So what’re you in here for?”
Your attempt gets a small laugh out of Jae, just as you’d hoped. The smile that accompanied it disappears as he says, “My parents found out about Day6… Before, as long as I kept my head down and didn’t do anything ‘embarrassing,’ they didn’t care what I was doing since my sister is going to take over the business. But now, if I don’t do this marriage thing, they were going to cut me off. I’d miss my Jordans, but I could deal if it was just me. But you know I’m the one who books our studio sessions, pays for the travel and new equipment when we need it. The guys chip in when they can, but they don’t make that much at their day jobs. I don’t make enough for it all either.”
You put your other hand over Jae’s. His band is his life. You’ve seen the shelves at his apartment filled with notebooks of music and lyrics instead of books. Some he’s actually played for you or let you read. He has his guitars named and arranged in order of favoritism for crying out loud. Making him abandon his music would be less painful than cutting out his heart while it still beat.
“We’re this close to a break, Doc. I can feel it.” Jae meets your eyes, none of the normal charm or ease there. Instead, they beg for reassurance, belief in him and his dream.
“I know you are. I come to every show I can, don’t I?” You smile, feeling the callouses from his constant playing rubbing against your own skin. “You're going to make it big. You have more talent than half the people on the radio. We just have to get the right people to listen.”
“Then I could support myself and I wouldn’t be in this mess.” He suddenly chuckles.
“What?”
“You could be too. You could be like our bus driver or roadie or something.”
“I have a job, you know. I just don’t work at the right place to make the big bucks. The clinic can barely afford our necessities, let alone big staff salaries. Besides, I don’t think it would matter.” You sigh again, unable to stop yourself from leaning against Jae. Everything feels too heavy and there’s a headache brewing in your temples. “I wouldn’t be surprised if my parents just found someone else to foist on me if this didn’t work out.”
“Damn. Seriously? We really won the lottery on the crappy parents, didn’t we?”
“That’s an understatement.” Looking down at your joined hands, you try to imagine matching weddings bands on your fingers. The idea is laughable. But nothing comes out of your mouth except the words, “We’re really going to do this, aren’t we? Get married.”
Jae’s shoulders lift beneath your cheek in a hopeless shrug. “For now, I guess so. Unless one of us wins the actual lottery. Or Day6 gets signed with a big bonus.”
You start nodding, then stop as an idea hits you, and groan. “Dammit… Jae, what’re we going to tell our friends?”
“What’d you mean? I doubt our parents are going to invite them to the wedding. Mine are too snobby and yours seem just as bad. Not like our friends read the newspaper either if our parents do one of those corny engagement ads.”
“I know my mother. She’s going to insist on an engagement ring and not a subtle one. Our friends know us. They’re not going to believe we went from friends to engaged. And what about what’s-her-name? The girl you’re talking to?”
“Oh,… yeah, that didn’t work out,” Jae says with a chuckle. “She didn’t like how much time I spent practicing. She told me it was either her or the band.”
Lifting your head, you stare at him. “What the hell were you doing dating someone like that?”
“She was hot?”
And he’s back. You drop his hand to smack his shoulder. “Gross!”
Jae raises his hands in defense, but a smile is back on his face, at least temporarily. “I’m kidding, jeez. Well, not really. She was hot, but I thought she really liked music slash the band too.”
“Sure.” Restless, you get off the bench and begin pacing. You think better on your feet. “But seriously, what’re we going to tell our friends? Us dating wouldn’t be too big a stretch, but no one would believe we’d do something crazy like get married out of nowhere. You’re impulsive enough for that, but not me. They’re going to know something’s up.”
“Firstly, I resent that impulsive comment. I'm just absurdly curious is all. And why not just tell them we’re dating?” Jae pulls in his legs when you almost trip over them. “But only if our parents make us move in together or something. Otherwise, we don’t need to. You don’t have to wear the ring unless our parents check in or whatever. Plus, like I said, crappy as it is, our parents wouldn’t think to invite them to the wedding. The only people there will be people we don’t care about. Then after we’re married, we just wait it out, not telling anyone, and then, like you planned, get a quick, quiet divorce when everyone’s safe. No one knows, we live our lives as normally as we can, and then we’re home free.”
Pausing in your marching, you look at Jae again. He looks far calmer than he has any right to be. Seems like he’s already accepted your predicament. But maybe he is right. Maybe this abrupt drop in the road of your life can be smoothed into a less dramatic sharp turn, or even a slight detour. Maybe you can do it. Together. The demons of uncertainty’s voices quiet for now.
Out loud, you say, “Alright.”
“Cool. Now that that’s settled,” slapping the edge of the bench, Jae pushes himself up, “we should probably get back. By the way, why’d you not want them to know we know each other?”
Raising your eyebrows incredulously, you ask, “You really want to give them one more thing to use against us?”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Straightening his clothes, he says, “Let’s go back to the lions’ den.”
Seeing his smile, that smile you know so well and love, relief hits you so hard, it makes your knees almost buckle.
You rush to him, burying your face in his shirt and curling your fingers around his jacket lapels. Your eyes burn, but your tears are thankfully exhausted. “Jae, I’m so glad it’s you. I really am.”
Fate and your parents’ scheming could have put anyone opposite you. Yet somehow, it’s Jae. A solid ally and friend instead of a dreadful unknown. With Jae, you have a fellow victim, a fellow survivor. A partner. One with no expectations except a continued friendship and reliance.
Although Jae had been stiff from surprise, his arms close around you and his body sags. Despite his boniness, the warmth of his embrace more than makes up for it. “Yeah, me too, Doc. Me too.”
“Were you scared too?”
“Fucking terrified. I thought I was going to be stuck with some prude princess. You know I can’t handle high maintenance. Ain’t nobody got time for that.”
Laughing, you step back. As usual, Jae’s humor helps break through your cloud of ill mood. Beckoning, you say, “Come here. We have to fix your hair or they might think something happened.”
“Yeah, because they’re such examples of people who believe in love at first sight and get swept up in mind-blowing passion,” he retorts, but he leans down anyway so you can smooth his hair. “Thanks. You ready?”
“Yeah.” You nod. This time, you believe it.
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Take the Lead
◽ Genre: Romance, Smut, PWP, e2l
◽ Pairing: Lee Taemin x (f) OC
◽ Rating: 18+
◽ Warning(s): mention of injuries, anxiety, fear of failure, inner struggle, Taemin is a tsundere with dandere tendencies, sexual tension while dancing, mentions of arousal, oral (female receiving), fingering, public sex, exhibitionism (in a dance studio), penetrative sex, protected sex (whoot!), dirty talk, teasing, edging, Taemin is a slight dom, OC is a bit of a brat...switch too, overstimulation, cum shot
◽ Word Count: 5.2k
◽ Credits: Beta read by the marvelous @yoongsgguktae 💜 ily sis thank you
Banner resources found here (pngs)
◽ Summary: Mya has always been a perfectionist, but when that gets in the way of her goals she must now work with someone she cannot stand to be in the same room with. With hot summer heat get to them?
◽ A/N: Part of The Intimacy Anthology Project hosted by @peonybane found here
Mya sighed as she slumped further in her chair. Hands were wringing in her lap nervously. The day couldn’t have gotten any worse. Her ears perked, hearing the door creak open. She rose from her seat, grabbing her purse. Hope in her eyes until she saw the grim expression of her dance instructor. The older woman shook her head sadly.
“I’m sorry, Mya. William is going to have to be on bed rest for the next couple of months.”
A noise passed her lips, similar to a balloon losing air. Mya’s heart sank as she crumpled back into her chair. The instructor sighed. “I know you both wanted that spot in the competition badly. The doctor was clear. He can’t dance or lift anymore for the season. It’s too risky.”
The young woman mumbled, feeling a lump form in her throat. She strained a smile as she stood up. “Thank you, Janine. I’ll see you later.”
Janine frowned, noticing the energy change in Mya’s demeanor. “Are you going to be okay? If you need time, I’ll understand. I can call in a sub for your classes tonight.”
“No, no, I’ll be back. Thanks.” Mya brushed it aside and walked out of the studio as quickly as she could. Mentally beating herself up, she didn’t see the person walking around the corner until they collided. Mya let out a noise of surprise as she bumped them hard, stumbling back a bit.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t—” she froze, staring at them in shock. Lee Taemin. She felt naked under his intense gaze. Ash-blonde hair framed his face perfectly, right down to his strong jawline. Sharp, smoldering brown eyes directed at her, unmoving. Mya bit her lip, breaking the gaze with a calm breath. Irked, Taemin sighed, adjusting the duffel bag on his shoulder, and pushed past her without a word.
Mya’s mouth gaped at the rude gesture. Before she turned on her heel to give him a piece of her mind, the hum of her phone’s vibration distracted her. She slipped it out of her purse and let out a snort at the message.
Chimmy: Where r u?! I’m having an existential crisis!
Mya: It’s just coffee, Jimin…
Chimmy: *pouts* but...but I need help ordering *anguish*
Mya: *facepalm* all you’re going to do is order the same thing *eye roll*
Chimmy: I...okay, no, I’m not!!
Mya: Jimin…
Chimmy: Just cause I get a venti cafe mocha does not make me predictable!
Mya: I’ll be there soon. You know what I like…
Chimmy: *sobs*
---
Mya sipped her iced chai latte and sighed. She swung her legs on the stool as she waited for Jimin to get his blueberry muffin. “Alright, spill it,” he said, settling into his chair next to her. Mya groaned, fiddling with the napkin. “William got injured.”
Jimin’s eyes widened. “What? When did this happen?”
“Last night at rehearsal. We tried a new lift, and he slipped, twisting his knee and tearing his ACL,” she explained, lips trembling. Mya covered her eyes, choking back a sob. Jimin frowned, reaching to wrap her in a side hug. “I’m sorry, M. I know how much the competition meant to you.”
She sniffed, wiping a stray tear that escaped. “I wanted to win so badly, but I’m so angry at myself. It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t pushed so hard, we’d be okay.”
Mya couldn't help but wonder if something could have changed. Maybe if she hadn’t done so much intense choreography and pushed William to get out of his comfort zone, the accident could have been avoided. It was all her fault. Her overzealousness led to her partner getting injured.
Jimin pressed his lips together. “Stop it. It’s no one’s fault. Accidents happen,” he sighed, taking a long sip before speaking once more, “what you can do is find a solution. You and I both know how talented you are, Mya.”
She chuckled bitterly. “Doesn’t solve the problem,” she mumbled.
Jimin scowled, crossing his arms across his chest. “Then solve it! You need a new partner, right. Then get one!”
Damn. He was right. Mya slumped more in the chair. It drove her crazy how he always knew the answer to her problems, even when she disagreed, but her friend was right.
“It’s so close to the competition; I don’t know who would be able to get the routine down so quickly.”
Jimin’s lips curled into a grin, shaping his eyes like crescent moons. “Say no more. I know someone who’d be willing.”
Mya’s jaw dropped. “You do? Who?”
Jimin tutted, grabbing his phone to scroll through his contacts. “Leave it to me. You’ll hear from them before the week is out.”
That didn’t sit too well with the young dancer. But if Jimin was going to help, who was she to deny it.
---
“And one...two….three....one...two...three. Eyes forward. Lovely, widen your gait….perfect. And turn. Light steps, light steps. Feel your partner. Yes, keep it up.” Mya circled her students as they glided across the studio. She tapped her foot to the count, observing their movements. As the music came to an end, she clapped her hands together. “Bow to your partner, ladies curtsy. You’re improving. We’ll pick it up next week. Thank you.”
The class clapped gently before gathering their things. Janine peeked inside, waiting for the students to file out. Mya busied herself cleaning the room, wiping down the full-length mirrors.
Janine rapped on the door with her knuckles and stepped in. “How was class?”
Mya looked over her shoulder and smiled. “Not too bad. They’re improving.”
“Good. Good.” Janine leaned against the piano, tapping her heels. Mya paused her movements and looked over at her mentor. “What’s going on, Janine? Why are you so quiet?”
“No reason. I just wanted to visit, is all.”
Mya chuckled, a slight bitter tone underneath. “Sure.”
“Actually,” Janine began as she tapped a lone key on the piano, “someone volunteered to be your partner.”
Mya dropped the cleaning spray with a thud as she swirled around. “What?! Who? How?”
Janine grimaced at the barrage of questions. “Well—”
“You tell her yet, Janine,” a sharp voice called.
Mya froze as Taemin walked into the studio. He rubbed the back of his neck, rolling his shoulders, a frown on his face. Mya coughed as her eyes swept from one to the other. “Is this a joke?”
“Far from it, Mya. You need someone to help you win. Cause lord knows you would barely place any other time,” he grumbled.
Mya’s mouth dropped open, staring at him. No, he didn’t just insult her. She blinked a few times, trying to comprehend what he just said. Her eyes narrowed as she hissed through her teeth. “So not only are you cocky, but you’re an asshole as well.”
Janine stepped in between the two. “Alright. Alright. You’ve thrown your punches,” she glanced at Mya with a sigh. “You want to compete. Taemin is one of the best dancers here. He can pick up your routine quickly.” She looked over at Taemin with a scowl. “We know you’re talented, but throwing insults is unprofessional. Mya has a solid routine.” Janine shook her head. “It’s just one competition. Get along for all our sake.”
With the turn of her heel, she walked out of the studio, leaving them alone. Mya looked away, smoothing the stray hairs that came undone from her bun. Taemin shoved his hands into his pants with a groan.
“Okay,” he said, making her stare at him. “We only have less than two weeks until the competition. Think we can do it?”
Mya shrugged, picking up the cleaner and placed it in the box by the piano. “You tell me.”
Taemin’s gaze lingered on her momentarily before looking away. “Then we’ll do things my way. We’ll practice after the evening classes.”
Mya hummed in response as she grabbed her bags.
Taemin tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Oh, your clothes.”
Mya quirked her brow. “What about them?” She looked down at the dress she wore. It purposely had a skirt that flared out to make movement easier. Taemin sucked his teeth, shaking his head. “You look like a middle-aged wife learning how to dance for her husband. You should wear leotards and shorter skirts.”
Mya’s eyes bugged out. “I’m here to dance, not sell sex.”
Taemin rolled his eyes with a scoff. “You need to embody sex. We’re going to be dancing the tango. It oozes sex appeal. I’ve watched you and William. You both are stiff. True, it’s a great routine but lacks passion.” He chuckled, combing his fingers through his hair. “You know I’m right. I could take you to the next level.”
Mya pursed her lips, each word stinging her heart. Shit, he was right. She adored William. He was probably the most understanding partner she had. But as they danced more, something always felt...off. It lacked intensity and passion behind it. She always thought it would eventually form the more they dance.
It never did.
Admitting a small defeat, she looked up at him. “Fine. We’ll do it your way. When do we start?”
Taemin pivoted on his heel, a smirk on his face. “Tomorrow night. I expect you to stretch.”
---
Mya swung her legs on the couch, causing Jimin to grunt as her legs dropped into his lap. He looked at her face and frowned. “Tough night?”
She grabbed a pillow covering her face. “You don’t know the half of it,” she groaned. “Taemin is going to be my dance partner.”
Jimin’s lips formed an ‘o’. Mya yelled out in frustration, throwing the pillow on the ground. “Of all the dancers, it had to be him! The universe hates me!” She combed her fingers through her hair, letting the tight bun unravel. “I don’t get it. Doesn’t he teach classes? I was sure he had a partner, but then again, he’s such an asshole; I bet no one would want to work with him. Argh! That freaking smug look. I wanna punch him in the nose!”
She flopped back against the couch in a huff. Jimin nibbled his lip, raking his fingers through his bangs. Sighing, he looked over at her.
“I asked him to be your partner.”
Mya shot up, glaring at her friend. “What?!”
Jimin let out a shaky laugh avoiding her gaze. “He owed me a favor,” he explained hastily, “and besides, he’s one of the best, asshole or not. I know you both have your differences, but I know you can do it. It will take you to the next level, I’m sure of it.”
She snorted, grabbing the pillow off the floor and chucking it at Jimin’s head. “You’re so lucky you’re my best friend; otherwise, I’d kill you.”
Yet again, the fates had other plans for her. Mya couldn’t believe the turn of events. She pouted, crossing her legs. Pride was going to have to take a backseat on this one.
Damnit.
----
The days went by painstakingly slow, but Taemin caught on quickly to her routine. Each night the couple practiced hard once everyone left. Mya couldn’t seem to relax around him. His stare was too intense. All he did was bark at her when she made the wrong move, even though it was her routine.
“No! Not your left, it’s to my left!”
She became unsure of her movements, second-guessing the routine. All it did was frustrate her more. They couldn’t seem to get on the same page. As the competition loomed closer, she didn’t think there would be any hope for them as they danced. Still, she tried to stay positive as they continued to practice.
Taemin snapped his wrist, bringing her back from a spin, and dipped her just as the music died. He sighed, pulling her back up as they breathed hard.
“It’s still missing something,” he mused, pacing around the floor.
Mya’s chest heaved as she grabbed a bottle of water. “I could concentrate, but it’s been so damn hot in here!”
“Get used to it,” he scolded, “the weather is only going to get worse.”
She flailed her arms up with a groan. “Janine needs to hurry and get AC. I’m gonna melt. I hate these old buildings.”
Taemin chuckled as he gulped down the remains of his water. “It’s not so bad. It has character.”
“Hmmph,” she mumbled, stretching her limbs.
The door slammed open, making the two jump. Jimin ran in, holding a large garment bag. “It’s here! Mya, it’s your dress!”
She squealed, running over and placing it on the clothes hanger. She unzipped the garment bag revealing a deep red and orange dress decked in glitter. The flame design popped under the lights. She pulled it up for Taemin to see.
“What do you think?”
Taemin hummed thoughtfully. “Not bad, but it’s time to focus. Back to dancing,” he clapped. She glanced at Jimin with a soft smile. “Thanks, Jimin. I’ll see ya later.”
Jimin rubbed the spot between her shoulder blades and placed the dress back in the bag. He scowled towards Taemin. “Don’t work her too hard. I need my bestie back in one piece.”
“No promises,” Taemin snickered as Jimin walked out. He went over to click the remote to start the song back up. “From the top.”
The dance continued. Taemin whipped her into a spin as she shook her hips in an impromptu move. He grabbed her hand, pulling her back to him as his other hand landed in the small of her back. He pulled her close, sliding his hand down her leg up to wrap around his waist before extending it. Their eyes met, each filled with intensity. Taemin’s fingers slid from around her neck, caressed her collar bone, and rested just above the swell of her breasts.
Mya’s cheeks flushed at the sudden move, worried she’d break character. Taemin’s gaze was so passionate. Lips parted, and she could feel the heat of his breath on her skin. She felt the position of her hands cramp as they stayed still for so long. As the tension grew to an awkward exchange, she lifted her head, licking her lips hastily.
“T-Taemin, are you going to let me up?”
His eyelashes fluttered as if he’d been almost in a haze and pulled her up. He broke their contact, running a hand through his hair, muttering to himself. Mya’s brows furrowed while she observed his behavior. As she began to speak, he turned to her with a scowl.
“I think we’re done for the night,” he declared. As if reassuring himself, he nodded, grabbing his bag. “Yeah, we’re done today. Got a lot done tonight. See you soon.”
He made a hasty exit out of the rehearsal space, leaving Mya quite puzzled.
What the hell.
---
Mya fanned herself as the sweat trickled down her back. She groaned, feeling sticky, uncomfortable. Her clothes clung to her form. It seemed Taemin had been right about the weather. It stayed at a steady 90 degrees throughout the week, and the nights were no better, with no refreshing wind to cool down the city. She crawled out to the fire escape and rested her head on the rail.
Next time, shell out the money for an AC.
A light chime went off from her phone making her brows raise. Who could be calling her at this hour?
“Hello?”
“Where are you?”
Mya visibly groaned. Taemin. Why on earth was he calling? They decided to cancel the last practice to rest before the competition.
“I’m at home,” she answered tiredly.
“Get to the studio,” he ordered. “I want to go over a few things.”
Mya whined into the receiver, stomping her foot. “B-but..”
“B-But,” Taemin mocked. “Just get here soon.”
The receiver clicked before she could get a word out. Mya yelled in frustration. She let out a defeated sigh and went to grab her bag. After yelling a farewell to Jimin, she headed to the studio.
The building seemed eerily quiet even for her. Something was in the air that night, and she wasn’t sure what it was. Still, she needed answers after Taemin’s exit the night before; it left her wondering what was wrong with him. Peering into their practice studio, she noticed that the curtains were drawn back, letting the amber glow of the street lights flicker in the room. Besides that, there was no other light nor Taemin.
She raised her brow and walked in, setting her bag down. Mya looked around curiously. Where was he? He wouldn’t make her come to the studio and then stand her up. A scowl painted her face as she changed into her heels, stretching her legs. She walked towards the light switch to flick it on.
“Leave it off.”
Mya jumped, clutching her chest as she rounded, seeing Taemin leaning against the barre on the opposite side of the room. “T-Taemin, have you been there the whole time?”
He stepped forward with a nod. “Yes.”
“Creeper much? Jeez, you almost gave me a heart attack,” she stated angrily. “Why all the mystery? Why’d you call me here? It’s too hot to dance.”
“Never too hot. We need to polish some parts of the routine. Remember how I said it was missing something?” he asked, stepping closer to her.
She gulped softly by how close he was to her. She shifted away to stare up at him. “Yeah, I remember. I also recall you leaving in a hurry yesterday. Seriously that was strange, even for you. Why are you being weird?”
Taemin smirked and stepped away and turned on the music. “You talk too much, you know? Let’s start, hmm?”
Mya fixed her face to protest when the look in his eyes rendered her speechless. She nodded silently, getting into her place. They stood a few feet apart, just as the haunting melody of the song began.
Her eyes sharpened as the beat changed, her hips swiveled, arms swaying in the air as she moved them down her body sensually. Taemin closed the space, immediately grabbing her waist as their hips connected. He leaned back on his right leg, pulling her to him. Lips barely an inch away as she pushed against his chest to put space between them. He grabbed her hand, pulling her back once more as the movements became knife-like as their hips snapped, gliding across the floor in precision. It was fluid, primal, but passionate. The intensity burned in her eyes as they danced.
Their breathing even as they moved. Taemin gripped her waist as she stood in front of him, pressing her back against his groin. Mya paused as she heard a soft groan pass his lips. Brushing it aside, she continued the motions. Taemin bit down on his lip, gripping her waist tighter. Maybe it was the heat or stress, but he couldn’t concentrate. His eyes glued to the way her hips rotated against his own. The shape of her backside put him in a stupor.
Mya snapped away to do her adlibs, letting him breathe. He blew air through his nose as the time came for the dip. Taemin snatched her against his body. One hand gripping the curvature of her ass as he placed her leg around his waist once again. He leaned forward, dipping her low; his free hand placed on her abdomen. Her concentration wavered as his fingers crawled upwards, snaking around her breasts, caressing her collar, and rested around her neck.
Her breathing uneven as she met his gaze, pupils blown out in lust.
“T-Taemin?”
He growled softly, pulling her up by her neck and crashed his lips with hers. Mya let out a squeak as he pressed more against her. She opened her eyes and placed both her hands on his chest and pushed him as far away as she could.
“Whoa! Slow the breaks!”
Taemin’s chest heaved as he stared at her. He frowned, looking at her. “Too much?”
Mya sputtered as she walked away from him. “That’s an understatement! What has gotten into you, Taemin? First, that awkward pause last night, and now you’re kissing me.”
Taemin chuckled as he walked over and gulped the rest of his water. “Sorry, but it did get a reaction out of you.” He looked over at her expression. “I should have asked permission. But I’m not sorry about the kiss.”
“W-What?”
She could barely see the red tint of his cheeks as he looked away. He coughed softly, avoiding her eyes. “I'm not going to repeat myself.”
Mya’s face twisted into a scowl as she stalked over to him, fist balled. He winced as she stopped in front of him. She pulled at his shirt collar, bringing him down to her eye level. Their stare lingered until her palm came across his face with a loud smack. Taemin’s mouth gaped open in shock, but he barely had time to recover as her lips pressed to his.
His arms limp at his side until his senses caught up with his mind; he pulled her into his arms, deepening the kiss. Her hands grasped at his locks, tangling them in her fingers. He lifted her with ease taking her over to the barre by the windows. His lips feverishly searched hers as he propped her up on the barre, making sure she was secure. He groaned, exploring her body with his hands. Mya gripped at his shirt as her moans drowned out into his mouth.
He kissed her until their lungs cried out for air. He pulled away, still sucking on her tongue. Releasing it, he smirked, breathing heavily.
“You taste like strawberries.”
Mya’s cheeks flushed as she turned away. “D-Don’t say that.”
Taemin cupped her cheek in his hand with a soft smile. “Why? It’s true. You know I don’t lie.”
“Yeah, but—”
He silenced her, putting a finger to her lips. “You talk entirely too much.” He bent down and tugged on her earlobe. “Don’t think, just feel.”
Mya’s body quivered as Taemin’s lips suckled on her neck. He traced his tongue along her pulse points, grinning at how fast it was. Growing bolder, he sucked on her skin harder, forming a mark. She squirmed underneath him, whimpering at his actions. The eternity of her neck littered with bite marks, each bright red. He captured her lips in another kiss taking her breath away as his fingers crawled down her frame, lightly caressing as he reached the junction of her thighs.
“Spread your legs,” he murmured against her lips. Mya squeaked as her legs parted open, barely comprehending her thoughts. He was in control, and she wanted nothing more than for him to take her right then and there.
Taemin stepped back, biting his lip. His eyes lit up with perversity. “On second thought, get off the barre and turn around.”
Mya slipped off without a sound and turned her back to him. He pressed himself against her back, resting his hands on her waist. His breath tickled her neck as he leaned in towards her ear.
“Do you remember your ballet barre stretches?”
Mya let out a wordless nod earning a chuckle from him. His fingers gripped her hips, making her freeze. “Relax,” he whispered, massaging her sides gently.
She willed herself to calm as her left leg raised and stretched on the barre. Taemin helped her lean forward as her hand wrapped around the barre to stay balanced.
“Good,” he crooned, making sure she was steady. He pulled his hands down and crouched behind her. With nimble fingers, Taemin pushed her skirt up, revealing her sexy backside. Even more mouthwatering with a closer inspection. The leotard did nothing to hide her arousal. He could feel the heat coming off her sex. His grin widened as he pulled the leotard to the side.
As he gazed upon her dripping cunt, he chuckled darkly. “No panties. Naughty girl,” he teased. “I bet you planned this, hmm?”
Mya turned her head with a whimper, embarrassment taking over. “I-I...well, I was in a hurry.”
“Were you, though?” He snorted, dragging his finger against her slit, coating it in her juices. Moaning, he pressed his finger against her clit, swollen from neglect. Her body jerked against his touch just as his hand slapped her asscheek.
“Taemin!”
“Stay still,” he growled, eyes lingering on her sex. “I want to see if you taste like strawberries here too,” he added, stroking her pussy lips lightly.
“I—” Mya sputtered as more color rose in her cheeks. She was sure her face was blotched in red. Taemin took his finger and pressed it against his lips, slipping the digit inside his mouth. He closed his eyes with a moan.
“Fuck, you do.” He gripped her ass, spreading her cheeks. “May I taste more of you, Mya?”
Mya gripped the barre, teeth gritted. In that position, she couldn’t get any friction. She was exposed for him to see. “Y-Yes! Do it, please.”
And then the warmth washed over. Taemin shoved his face between her legs, tongue delving into the depths of her pussy. His fingers tugged, twisted, and pinched her clit. Mya gasped at the sensations. She cried out as he assaulted her pussy from behind. Colors burst under her eyelids as she let go.
“F-Fuck! Taemin,” she moaned, trying to alleviate some of the pressure. But he was relentless.
He slipped his tongue out, licking his lips as he began to suckle her clit; his most extended fingers replaced his tongue curling inside her cunt to pump gently. Mya’s body was on fire. She was a hot, squirming mess laying herself over the barre—the knot in her stomach coming undone with each passing moment. Taemin could feel her orgasm slowly crawling closer to release. Her muscles clenched his fingers in a vise-like grip. Just as her mouth opened to let the pleasure roll off her body, he slipped his fingers out of her cunt and unlatched his mouth from her clit.
Mya let out a scream of frustration as her high disappeared. She glared over her shoulder at him. “What the hell? You asshole!”
Taemin smirked, lips still glistening with her arousal, and stood up, pressing against her. Bending down, he kissed her, twirling his tongue against hers. Mya moaned out as she tasted herself on his lips. Breaking the kiss, he nibbled on her ear.
“Payback for not getting that turn right.”
Mya hissed as his fingers rubbed soft circles on her thigh, leg still propped. “You’re fucking petty; you know that, right?”
He sighed with a shrug. “I guess so. But you love it, don’t you?”
Mya forced herself not to roll her eyes. “No. It’s a complete turnoff.”
Taemin laughed loud moving his hands up to her breasts, thumbs rolling over the stiff peaks. “Your body gives you away, Mya,” he said, watching as she responded to his touches.
A simple pinch caused her to stifle a hiss back. Taemin enjoyed putting her through this torture. “Tell me what you want,” he replied darkly.
Mya bit down on her tongue, holding back another cry. While one hand toyed with her nipples, the other found her clit and was strumming against it.
“I...I...damn it...y-you’re going...shit...make me t-tell you….fuck, right there...w-what I-I...you bastard...what I want!”
Each word was pronounced with the jerk of her hips. Tears threatened to spill as her body ached for release. Did he have an edge kink? Mya couldn’t think. The haze surrounding her was stifling. With as much energy as she could muster, she turned her head towards this devil of a man.
“Take me right here, Taemin. Please,” she begged, body shivering.
He removed his hand from her breast and unzipped his pants, pulling them down just below the swell of his ass. He stroked his cock with a grunt, already red and needy for her. He pulled the foil package from his back pocket and ripped open the condom. Mya breathed hard as she watched him from the reflection.
“Protection? How nice of you,” she snapped.
“Oh? I prefer something more...raw, but I’m a gentleman,” he teased as he rolled the condom on with ease. “Can't have you think I stick in places it doesn't belong.”
Mya let out a harsh laugh. “Now, who's talking too much.”
Taemin lined himself up at her entrance, running the tip against her slit, barely inching close. “Keep it up; I’ll leave you just like this, a whiny, whimpering mess unless you can behave.”
Mya gripped the barre so tight; she felt her nails dig into her palms. “N-No, please don’t do that.”
Taemin smirked, moving to push the hair off her face and back of her neck. Mya’s hair was in disarray at this moment. Makeup running, lipstick smudged, sweat rolling down her face, she looked ethereal to him. So raw with passion. It was then, he slipped between her folds, inching into that deep warm cavern of bliss. He hissed as she tightened around him. He pulled his cock out, only leaving a tip before thrusting it back in.
Mya moaned, feeling him bury himself inside her. Her body jiggled as he began to thrust, slow at first, getting her used to his size. While he wasn’t so lengthy, his shaft curve hit her at an angle that brushed that rough spot rarely found. Having her leg hoisted on the bar might have helped too, but at this point, her mind was only able to concentrate on one goal: cumming.
The echo of skin slapping filled the rehearsal space. Taemin grunted as he watched her expressions from the mirror. It made him lustful for more, hips snapping; he rolled them against her finding the perfect spot. Hilted deep, she could almost not breathe. Taemin stuttered, slowing his movements as he felt himself twitch. Mya panted as she finally could feel the knot breaking loose, muscles clenching as he brushed her walls.
Taemin leaned in close, grinding against her as his tongue ran along her ear.
“Go ahead, babe.”
Mya’s voice stopped as her body froze, then suddenly spasmed around his cock. Her orgasm rolled over her body like a wave, rough, crashing. She cried, holding on to the bar as Taemin kept her from falling over. He kept on grinding, helping her ride out the release. Once she winced at the overstimulation, he moaned, knowing his time had come. He pulled out, practically tearing the condom off, and stroked himself a few more times as the hot ropes of white streamed from the tip and landed on her ass. His hips bucked as he came hard, moaning at how it dripped off her ass and lower back. Grunting slowly, he fell forward, placing a light kiss on her shoulder. They rested in that position until they both caught their breath. Taemin pulled away, assisting her with bringing her leg down off the barre, rubbing her sore muscles.
After cleaning up her back with a towel, they fell to the floor in a heap, Taemin leaning against the wall with Mya resting her head in his lap. He stroked her wet hair back gently as they let the old ceiling fan stir the hot air in the room. Mya turned, so she faced him from her position.
“We better win first place.”
#kwritersworldnet#kpopwritingnet#kreativewritersnet#lee taemin#taemin#shinee#super m#taemin x reader#taemin x you#taemin x y/n#taemin x oc#shinee x reader#shinee x you#shinee x y/n#shinee x oc#super m x reader#super m x you#super m x y/n#super m x oc#taemin romance#taemin smut#taemin pwp#taemin e2l#shinee romance#shinee smut#shinee pwp#shinee e2l#super m romance#super m smut#super m pwp
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The Dragon’s Lair | 1
Pairing: Dragon Hybrid Namjoon x Reader (The others will show up one by one)
Word Count: 3,141
Genre & Warnings: Hybrid au. Fantasy themes. This will have a little bit of everything. Lots of fluff, some angst, perhaps eventual smut. Mentions of physical abuse and possible other trauma or emotional issues in the future. Brief mentions of death but no MCD.
Notes: I’ve been ‘hoarding’ this in my drafts forever. It was literally only missing a paragraph. I’ve considered the idea of doing something for hybrids for a while, and I kept getting asked about it, so this is my attempt! I wanted to do something other than the ole’ cat and dog thing. Also, keep in mind that the plan for this fic to is write it in a way that I can keep adding to it for as long as I want to. I have no definite end in mind as of yet. I figured I’d release it to give you guys something to read while you wait for Faith.
Some days you praised Kwon Soonyoung for being the best friend and overall human being on the planet. Other days, you cursed the day you became friends. Today felt like it was going to be the latter.
“I really don’t know about this, Soonyoung. It just seems so wrong,” you grimaced as he pulled you along towards the grey-bricked and incredibly ridiculous building.
The Fairy Pawmother was one of the most popular businesses in town these days. And, in case the name didn’t give it away, was styled ostentatiously to look like a small castle. There were koi ponds instead of a moat and a cobbled walkway instead of a drawbridge, but it was painfully obvious the entire place with themed purposely. The two towers on either side of the building were actually a popular cafe and a Hybrid specialty shop that employed the adoptable hybrids themselves.
“You’re thinking about it the wrong way, that’s all. I mean, sure. It would be nice if they all had their freedom and people stopped treating hybrids like lesser beings. The law is easing up on them little by little every year, so maybe someday there will be hope. Until then, there are all these hybrids without anyone to care about them. They are all alone, no one to care whether they live or die.” Soonyoung sighed dramatically and wiped a nonexistent tear from his dry eyes.
“The guilt trip route? Ugh, fine,” you groan and follow him towards to entrance.
Soonyoung smiles gleefully, as he usually does when he convinces you to do what he wants. Which is quite often, sadly.
“Come on. You won’t regret having a hybrid of your own. Since your Grandma died, I worry about you. She was all the real family you had left. I know you have me, and I consider myself your family too, but you could do with more. Just remind yourself you’re saving them from someone that won’t feel about hybrids the way that you do. You’ll treat them good, whereas they could have gone to a sex fiend or something.”
“Who says sex fiend? Weirdo.”
“Your weirdo,” Soonyoung drapes himself across your back, squeezing softly.
“Disgusting. Get off me,” you kick your foot back, hitting the giggling Soonyoung lightly, but you can’t hide your soft smile fast enough before he catches it.
“This place is great too. They treat the hybrids well. They feed them properly, have good rooms and jobs if they want them. They even bring in teachers for homeschooling and stuff. It’s where I got Jihoonie.”
“My point exactly. Jihoon is a little brat.”
“A brat that you spoil as much as I do. Don’t think I didn’t notice that you suddenly have jugs of milk in your fridge when you hate milk. Or that you guys have movie marathons where he comes back so stuffed he doesn’t want to eat dinner. Or the fact that those headphones you claimed you won in a contest at work and gave to him were almost $3,000. And you forgot that I share your Amazon account.”
“Having a nosy best friend is the worst,” you grumble, looking around the lobby of the Hybrid shelter.
It looked bright and welcoming, with ivory painted walls covered in pictures of past adoptions and a lounge filled with plush crimson couches. There were several nice looking families waiting, presumably to pick up their new Hybrids, but Soonyoung pulled you away from there and towards the front counter.
The man at the counter was stunning, with beautiful dark eyes and pouty lips. When you couldn’t see any evidence of him being a Hybrid himself, you were almost disappointed. His eyes glimmered with mischief as he caught you checking him out, his gaze piercing you in a way that made you wonder if he could hear your thoughts. You blushed and looked away, glad for Soonyoung’s interference as he excitedly greeted the man.
“Heechul hyung! How are you?”
“Better, now that you’ve brought me something pretty to look at. Jihoon’s class doesn’t get out for another hour if you’re here to get him.”
“I know! I actually brought my friend Y/N here to look around. I think she’d give someone a great home,” Soonyoung pulls you forward, and you wave shyly.
“Allow me to introduce myself, then. I am Kim Heechul, the Fairy Pawmother himself,” he catches your cringe and laughs.
“I know, it’s a silly name. I wanted to just call it Heechul’s in sparkling lights, but my partner Leeteuk told me this isn’t a Casino so I couldn’t do that.”
“It’s not a casino. It’s not a real castle either, but that didn’t stop you. So don’t blame me,” a yell comes from the office behind Heechul.
“Are you getting mad already, babe?” Heechul turns and smirks at the door.
“I’m not mad!”
“You’re yelling.”
“Well, I’m mad now!”
Heechul giggles and turns back to you, observing you from head to toe with a thoughtful look.
“I don’t think a cat or dog will do for you.”
“If you’re about to suggest a hamster, I’ve already got one,” you smirk and jerk your thumb to point at Soonyoung, who huffs.
“That’s great! I totally see it.” Heechul laughs, slapping the counter a couple times.
He slowly sobers before rounding the counter and gesturing to the two of you to follow him down a spacious hallway.
“No, I mean something...a bit more challenging.”
As you follow him down the hallway, you look through the enormous windows that stretch all the way across, revealing what appeared to be common rooms on either side. You observed the Hybrids, pleased to note that they all looked healthy and happy. There were multiple televisions and game consoles for them to use, toys for the younger ones, plenty of comfortable lounge chairs. The walls were lined with bookshelves, most of them packed full of all types of genres, some used for organizing board games. All in all, it didn’t appear to be the type of shelter that you’d heard horror stories about.
“What do you do for a living, Y/N?” Heechul suddenly asks.
“I’m a graphic designer. I work freelance taking on commissions for various companies.”
“That’s good. That means you are at home a lot, right? Your hybrid will appreciate that. So you’re the artsy type?”
“That’s one way of putting it,” you laugh softly. “It’s mostly making promotional stuff. Ads and things like that. Pays well enough. I still try to draw and paint what I want on my own time, but I don’t get paid for that.”
Heechul nods, continuing on silently, but with that same thoughtful look on his face. Maybe he was trying to think of the right hybrid for you? That would explain the questioning, anyway.
“The halls for exotic breeds are right in here,” Heechul explains as he stops you in front of an elaborately carved door. “Normally, you’re only allowed to see the exotics if you’ve been thoroughly vetted. Most don’t even know they are here, because many of them are the only ones of their kind and we only want them to go to the right people. But I have a good feeling about you. Not to mention, any friend of Hamster's is a friend of mine.”
“You’re never going to let that go, are you hyung?” Soonyoung sighs next to you.
“Not in a million years. Sorry, Hamster. Anyway, there is a class in session right now, and I thought we could sneak in there so you could look around. See if anyone catches your eye,” Heechul leads you to a room that had an open archway instead of a door. You could hear a deep voice rumbling above the rest, presumably the teacher as he was answering questions.
Heechul leads you into the classroom, and the three of you sit in the very back of the class. The room was set up like a small college classroom, with one long table and four seats at each one. The room was bright and covered in educational posters, most of them cheesy. There were probably fifteen hybrids here, most of them with no characteristics to tell you what they were.
When you finally glance at the podium, you feel like the breath has been knocked right out of you. The man standing there is so very tall, with a small waist and long, toned legs. His tan skin was practically glowing, his cheeks slightly flushed with excitement as he enthusiastically explained something to one of the hybrids. When he finished his explanation, he smiled, and you swear your heart stopped. His full lips alone could have caused that reaction, but the sweet grin was accompanied by two deep dimples on either side. You’d never understood the fascination with dimples, but you had to agree they added a touch of innocent appeal to his face, making the overall picture irresistible.
As you looked closer at the man, you realized he was a hybrid too. His eyes glowed a sparkling golden shade that would be impossible otherwise. He was, unfortunately, wearing a beanie so you couldn’t tell if he had any ears or something under there. His nails were different too. Either he painted his nails, or they were naturally a shimmering blend of silver and gold.
“Class dismissed! Don’t forget to do your reading, I’ll pop quiz someone at dinner,” the man smirked at the grumbling hybrids as he collected their things.
You watched the hybrids file past, curious what made them “exotic.” You couldn’t really see much that struck you as something that different. Just the occasional odd eye color or hair that could be brushed off as coloring if one didn’t know better. The golden-eyed man stayed at the front, writing something into his big notebook.
“Hi, I’m Yixing,” a handsome hybrid plopped into the seat next to you, smiling gently. He was so adorable you couldn’t help smiling back.
“Hi, I’m Y/N. And this is my friend Soonyoung.”
“Oh, we all know him. He’s old news,” he teases Soonyoung with a poke to his cheeks, and he tries to act offended, even if the effect is ruined by his giggle. The hybrid turns back to you. “Are you here to adopt?”
“It seems so.”
“That’s great! We exotics don’t get adopted out very often, but you look nice. I’m sure you’d take care of one of my friends very well.”
“Not you?”
“Yixing here is already adopted. His owner had to go to some conference thing for Doctors, so Yixing was staying with us until he comes back. Which will be tomorrow. I bet you’re excited to see your Baekyun again, huh?” Heechul grins at Yixing, who starts babbling excitedly.
“Yes! I hate when he goes on those trips. I miss him. At least I can come here and still take my classes and stuff, so I’m not lonely.”
“That’s nice of you guys to do that,” you quirk an eyebrow at Heechul in surprise. “Usually once a hybrid is adopted out, the shelter wipes their hands of them. Or so I understood.”
Heechul nods. “Most places, yeah, that’s probably true. But we let all the hybrids here know that they can always come back, no matter what. Even if it’s just for classes, or for respite care like Yixing here. This is a safe home for all.”
At least you knew you’d be adopting from a decent place, even if the idea of ‘owning’ something that was whatever percent of human they were made you feel uncomfortable.
“So, I don’t know if it’s rude of me to ask or not, but I can’t tell what kind of hybrid you are,” you ask hesitantly.
Yixing’s eyes shine mischievously as he grins.
“I see Heechul brought someone back here without telling them everything again. He did that to Baekhyun too. He loves to watch peoples faces as they discover the truth,” Yixing giggles as he and Heechul share a look.
“I’m a Unicorn.”
“Har Har,” you respond flatly.
Yixing winked before closing his eyes. A glittering pastel glow appeared around his forehead, and slowly what appeared to be a horn grew out of his forehead. The color of the horn reminded you of the inside of an abalone shell, truly beautiful and shining brightly with a myriad of colors. You blinked a couple of times in disbelief.
“And before you say anything, no, I’m not a Rhino,” Yixing laughed as he took in your befuddled stare.
“But...Unicorns aren’t real. They’re a myth,” you stammer, unable to take your gaze from the still shimmering horn that refuted that statement.
“Myths had to come from somewhere, didn’t they? In fact, most of our exotics could be considered “myths,” Heechul countered softly. “Hybrids themselves shouldn’t exist, according to science. And yet, here I am with a building full of them.”
“Does it...what is...um,” you floundered, trying to search for the way to ask about him without seeming rude.
“What does a Unicorn do? I have healing magic. I’m also able to emit a calm aura, which is probably why you’re not running out of here screaming about crazy people right now,” Yixing giggles.
You nod, unsure of how else to respond. It was a lot to take in. And you weren’t quite sure what to believe yet.
“So you thought I should adopt a mythical hybrid?” you mumble to Heechul, who merely nods and gestures towards the golden-eyed man who was still scribbling away at a desk.
“Not just any. I wanted you to meet Namjoon. He’s been here for a long time because I was waiting for the right person to care for him. I have a gut feeling that you’re the one,” Heechul explains.
“OH! Y/N would be perfect for Namjoon! I don’t know why I didn’t think of that myself!” Soonyoung squealed.
“Wait, if you know all of them and aren’t surprised by all this, is Jihoon an exotic?” you ask with a frown.
“Yup. He’s a Bakeneko. So, still technically a cat,” Soonyoung laughs. You make a mental note to remember to look that up later.
You couldn’t even imagine being the one to try to care for someone like Namjoon. Namjoon. You tried the name out in your mind a few times. It fit him. However, he was almost intimidatingly gorgeous and obviously smart, judging by the fact that he was in here teaching a class. What use would he have for you?
“What is he?” You ask, almost terrified to hear the answer.
“I’m a dragon,” a deep voice replied in front of you. You quickly meet Namjoon’s eyes as he grins reassuringly at you.
“Hello. I saw that Yixing had his horn out in front of someone new so I thought I’d see what was going on. I’m Namjoon.”
“Did you say a dragon?” you ask, unable to keep the shock and worry out of your voice. You realize your mistake when Namjoon’s face falls, and his easy-going grin was replaced with a polite smile.
“Yes. Sorry.”
“Oh, no. Don’t mind me. I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I’m just learning that you all exist is all,” your laugh is a little self-deprecating, but Namjoon seems relieved.
“You’re very pretty.” Namjoon mumbles, a little blush growing on his cheeks as he studies you.
“Thank you, Namjoon,” you're flattered that someone as beautiful as him would think so.
“Are you here to pick someone up for adoption?” Namjoon asks as he pulls up a chair to the table and gets comfortable.
“Uh, yeah,” you blush from the intensity of his stare, his golden eyes flickering as he observes you.
Heechul is grinning as he watches the two of you interact.
“I brought her to meet you, dummy,” Heechul snorts.
Namjoon’s eyes widen in shock. “Me? You want to adopt me?”
If you’d had any doubts before, they were gone now. The way that his voice wobbled and his eyes filled like it was unbelievable that someone would want to adopt him broke your heart.
“If you’ll have me. I have a lot to learn, I think.”
Namjoon’s smile was so wide and bright, and he reached over to pull you into a hug.
“Thank you. Thank you so much,” he mumbled into your neck. You squeezed him gently back then turned to Heechul.
“So what all do I have to do?”
“I can take care of all the boring paperwork myself. Why don’t you and Namjoon hang out for the day? Get to know each other. He can show you his room, so you have an idea how to decorate his. You probably have enough rooms in your Grandma’s house to even build him a studio.”
You stared at Heechul in shock.
“I never told you I inherited my Grandma’s house.”
“Whoops,” Heechul smirked, not concerned to be caught out in the least.
“You’re not quite an ordinary human either, are you? Are you a hybrid?”
“I’d be offended to be called an ordinary anything, sweetheart. Come along, Hamster. Let’s leave them to get acquainted.”
#kwriterskollection#kpopwritingnet#btswriters#bts#bts fanfic#Kim Namjoon#Namjoon fanfic#Hybrid!bts#Hybrid!Namjoon#Dragon!Namjoon#Hybrid au#fantasy au#kpop#kpop fanfiction
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Code of Silence Ch 4 - The Next Day
Genre: Mafia AU, light fluff
Member: Min Yoongi
Word Count: 7.5K
As the limo pulls up in front of your apartment, Yoongi turns to speak to you, only to see you fast asleep on his shoulder. You look so peaceful, he can’t bring himself to disturb you.
“Boss, we’re here.” Seokjin states, moving to get out of the car.
“Help me get her upstairs will you?” Yoongi orders.
“Why don’t you just wake her up?” Namjoon asks.
Yoongi sighs, brushing a stray piece of hair away from your face. “Because she deserves to rest.”
Seokjin nods, pushing Namjoon out of the car first before following behind him and then waiting at the door. Yoongi slips his arms underneath you, lifting you gently so as not to disturb you, and passes you to Seokjin, who almost drops you, but quickly rights himself. Yoongi climbs out of the car and leads the guards into the building. Seokjin almost drops you two more times; once in the elevator, and once outside the door to your apartment. Yoongi opens the door and hurries Seokjin into his room to place you on the bed. Yoongi grabs the pair of pajamas he snagged from your room last night out of his drawers and places them on the nightstand next to you.
“Alright, you’re going to have to help me with the dress.”
“Why?” Namjoon asks, seemingly nervous.
“Because I can’t do it by myself, will you just do what you’re told?” Yoongi scolds.
“Right, sorry boss. Um-”
“Namjoon help me hold her up while Jin unzips her.”
“Okay.” He moves to the side of the bed and helps Yoongi gently lift you while Seokjin sneaks in behind you.
“Uh, there’s a problem.” Seokjin states.
Yoongi’s head shoots up. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s not a zipper.”
“What is it?” Namjoon asks, trying to peer around your sleeping body.
“It’s like… a thousand buttons.”
“Then you had better start unbuttoning.”
As Seokjin gets to work, Yoongi sets about making you more comfortable without waking you, and can’t help but smile to himself when you snuggle up to him, nuzzling into his neck as you mumble something in your sleep.
Seokjin gets about halfway down your back when the first whimper escapes your lips.
“O-oh my god.” You whine, causing all three men freeze as the room falls silent.
“Is… Is she awake?” Seokjin whispers.
“I can’t tell.” Yoongi answers.
“No, her eyes are still closed.” Namjoon observes.
Seokjin shrugs and gets back to work. “She must be dreaming.”
You moan again, louder this time.
“Some dream.” Namjoon smirks.
Yoongi shoots the younger boy a stern look. “Don’t get any ideas.”
“Yoon...gi…” You groan, making Yoongi’s eyes go wide.
You’re… dreaming about him? His heart flutters at the thought and he kisses the side of your head and whispers in your ear so the others can’t hear him. “I’m right here baby.” He strokes the outside of your thigh fondly and just as Seokjin pops open the last button and they lay you back on the bed, you grab Yoongi’s shirt out of reflex, pulling him down on top of you as you cry out.
“O-oh fuck!” You moan, your body spasming against the sheets as you pant in Yoongi’s ear, your grip only growing tighter until your body goes limp once more and you release him. Yoongi sits up in shock. You just orgasmed right in front of him; holding onto him, thinking of him; and all he can think of is how much he wants to kiss you again.
“Did she just-?” Namjoon’s words wrench Yoongi from his thoughts as he turns just in time to watch the younger guard bolt from the room.
Seokjin rolls his eyes. “Amateur. Do you need any more help boss?”
“Nah, I’ve got it from here.” Yoongi assures him. “You know the rules.”
“One of us awake at all times, you got it. Goodnight boss.” Seokjin gives a half-assed salute before leaving the room and shutting the door behind him, leaving Yoongi alone with you.
“Oh fuck…” He turns his attention back to you immediately, listening as you start to whimper again. He brushes a stray hair away from your face, admiring your beauty before taking a deep breath and pulling the sleeves of your dress down and then tugging the fabric off your body completely, leaving you in just the lingerie Little Kim told him about. Yoongi’s glad he sent the guards away, he wants this moment to himself.
Honestly, you’re beautiful in the lingerie, he struggles to take his eyes off you, but stands anyway, taking the dress with him. He digs through his closet for a spare hanger and hangs the dress on it before turning back to you. He sits back down on the edge of the bed as your hands grip the sheets tightly.
“Yoongi… Please…” You whisper. It takes everything in him not to wake you, if not to kiss you, just to get you to stop moaning his name, but he can’t bring himself to do it. He grabs your pajamas off the nightstand, leaving your lingerie in tact; he doesn’t want to remove anything and end up crossing a line; and slides the shorts up your legs before sitting you up again to slip the shirt on over your head as you gasp in his ear. “H-harder…”
He freezes for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm himself before gently laying you back down on the bed. He admires you for a moment longer, loving how peaceful you look in your sleep, until you cum for a second time that is.
“Y-Yoongi! Ah~!” Small whimpers escape you as you come down from your dream high. He’s shaken at the way you moan his name so easily, loving how it sounds coming off your tongue. Your body finally relaxes again as you go quiet, your face regaining its serene look once more.
He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you so at peace like this; having only been with you when bad things happen, he only ever seems to see you when you’re sad, especially when he opens his own dumb mouth and says something stupid like he did before the party. He’s still kicking himself for that one.
Yoongi just wants you to be happy, and tonight at the party, he swears he a saw a glimmer of what that looks like. He could get drunk off the sight of you happy like that, and it’s his goal to make sure nothing bad ever happens to you again. That’s what you do for people you love, right?
And boy does he love you.
He has for a while, since he got back from business school really. You don’t remember him, but you knew Yoongi before he was inducted; when you were little. Before you knew Taehyung, Yoongi was the one you were always playing with; but Yoongi was older, and decided that girls had cooties. By the time he realized his mistake, Taehyung had already swept in and stole you away, but that was okay, Yoongi was shy, and would rather just be distant friends. He watched the two of you grow up from afar, admiring how quickly you adapted to a new world and how sure you were of yourself. As he watched, he found himself wanting to reintroduce himself, but the timing was never right, and soon enough, he was off to college; the thought of you always in the back of his mind, and before he knew it, he realized he was in love with you.
Yoongi moved back home to find out your mother had passed shortly after he left and realized it probably wouldn’t be right to try and ask you out if what everyone else said was true: “She’s hard headed and blunt, she changed since it happened”. So instead, he fell under Choi’s wing and asked to be taught everything Choi knew. Little did he know everything that would follow. He can only hope you father was right, that you would grow to love him someday.
He lifts the covers out from under your body and bundles you up in them, placing a simple kiss on your cheek before turning to get himself ready for bed. He grabs a spare blanket and pillow out of his closet and places it on the floor. He grabs his laptop and turns on the tv, deciding to get some work done before he goes to sleep. It’s only a few minutes before he hears you again.
“Yoongi…?” You mumble.
Yoongi glances up to see if you’re still dreaming, only to find your eyes open as you stare at him curiously. “Hey.”
You wake up the next morning with the headache to end all headaches, you roll over to find Yoongi’s makeshift bed already empty, as well as a glass of water and two pills on the nightstand, along with a note.
Take these if your headache is anything like mine. I’ll be home around four, try to eat something. -Yoongi
Short and to the point, as per usual. You sit up, your head throbbing as you grab the water, quickly swallowing the medicine. You can’t believe he went to work like this, and the day after your wedding? What a workaholic. No wonder a honeymoon was out of the question, though you can’t really see yourself going anywhere with Yoongi for an extended period of time, you hardly even talk at home, what would you do stranded in some secluded location?
You sigh and pick up your phone to check the time. 2:37. Jesus you slept forever. You see you have about nine hundred unread texts from none other than Taehyung, which all boil down to one basic question: did you fuck Yoongi. You dim the brightness on your phone all the way before opening the messages and responding.
You (2:38 pm): Nothing happened
You drop your phone on the nightstand, knowing Taehyung will respond in a matter of seconds wanting to know every detail, but you’re brain can’t handle the amount of questions he’s going to ask you. You stand and make your way to the door; opening it, expecting the house to be flooded with afternoon light, but to your surprise, Yoongi has drawn all the shades and curtains, making the apartment dimmer than usual. He probably did it for his own headache, not yours, but you’ll have to thank him later anyway.
You head to your room to change, getting out of the most uncomfortable underwear you’ve ever slept in; you don’t know if your thong will ever come out of your ass. Yoongi won’t be home until later, so after undressing, you throw on an old t shirt and a pair of boyshort cut underwear before heading back out into the kitchen to find something to eat.
Yoongi always keeps the fridge well stocked, so you aren’t short on options. You decide on an orange, not wanting to push it with how terrible you feel. You cut in into thin slices and start munching on it, as you hop up on the counter; your preferred perch no matter how many people tell you not to sit up there, Yoongi included; whining when the juice runs down your chin onto your clean shirt.
“Goddamnit…” You mumble, reaching for a paper towel, but they’re just out of your reach. You stretch a little further… a little further… Is that the front door? You look up to see who it is just as you grab the paper towel-got it! Oh shit. You lose your balance and fall off the counter with a squeak of surprise, hitting the floor with your hip, face first. “Fuck!” You cry out in pain.
“Y/N?” A panicked voice comes from the entrance to the kitchen and you look up to see Yoongi striding toward you before kneeling at your side. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I just- ah…” You wince as you try to sit up, your hip screaming in pain as tears brim in your eyes. “I just fell.”
“Were you sitting on the counter again?” He asks, amusement in his normally emotionless eyes.
“Maybe…” You huff, finally bringing yourself into a sitting position. He simply chuckles to himself before carefully helping you to your feet.
“Come on, a warm bath should help.” He states, leading you in the direction of your bathroom.
You eye him with suspicion. “There’s an ‘I told you so’ coming here, isn’t there?”
He smirks at you. “I don’t feel the need to reiterate what you just learned.”
“Wow, how nice of you.” You state with a roll of your eyes as you limp into the bathroom. Yoongi sits you on the edge of the tub before rolling up his sleeves and starting up the water, waiting until it gets warm before plugging the drain and adding some salts and bubbles while the water rises. You observe him, working so dutifully for you, and you’ve only been married a day. Speaking of work… “Why are you home so early? I thought you wouldn’t be back until four?”
“They sent me home.”
“Can they do that?” You ask. “Aren’t you in charge?”
Yoongi chuckles. “They said it’s the day after my wedding, I should be home with my wife, and I quote, ‘getting some’ and then they made some, well, some obscene gestures.” Yoongi looks up at you from where he’s leaning over the tub, checking the water, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “How could I say no?” A flash of heat courses through your body at Yoongi’s words as he turns off the water, seemingly ignorant at the way you tense up. “You ready to get in?”
“I think I can get in by myself…” You state, already embarrassed by your lack of pants around him. Yoongi shakes his head just as the doorbell rings, his head perking up before he stands. “Who’s that?” You ask as he starts to walk away.
“That would be our wedding present delivery men.” He states, his hand on the door knob. “I’ll deal with them, you relax.” He offers you a small smile before leaving, shutting the door behind him.
You sigh, cursing yourself as you strip yourself of your clothes and turn off the water, stepping into the tub and sinking down into the warmth, letting the bubbles surround you and soak your woes away. You can feel yourself relaxing and you sink deeper, happy to have a bathtub that covers your entirety, leaving just your head and part of your neck exposed. The medicine Yoongi left for you must be kicking in as your head is starting to hurt less, although, it might just be due to your newly inflicted injury. You move to sit on your good hip, taking the pressure off the sore side just as the door to the bathroom bursts open, scaring you half to death as a mop of blonde hair enters and shuts the door behind him.
“Hey doll.”
“Tae!” You scold, crossing your arms over your chest. “What the hell?”
“You didn’t answer me, so I came over with dad to drop your shit off.”
“Why?”
“I need to know everything!” You roll your eyes as he begins his onslaught of questions. “What happened? Why didn’t you do anything? Did you use the porn trick like I told you to? Why didn’t it work? Did he see the lingerie? I thought they were his favorite color, why didn’t he-”
“Yah! One question at a time! Jesus…”
“Sorry.” Taehyung smiles sheepishly. “Just tell me what happened.”
“I fell asleep.”
“What??” Taehyung squeaks.
“Will you take it down a decibel? My head is killing me.”
“You fell asleep?” He asks at a more reasonable volume level.
“I must’ve had too much to drink at the reception, I fell asleep in the limo and didn’t wake up until Yoongi had already put my pajamas on and tucked me in.”
Taehyung rubs his hand over his face in exasperation. “Y/N, you’re such and idiot.”
“You’re the one who kept shoving champagne into my hand!” You squeak, sitting up and smacking your hands into the water in frustration, causing Taehyung to look away when you accidentally expose your breasts. You sink back into the water with a sigh, should you tell him about your dream? You might as well… “The dream was the worst part.”
“Dream?” Taehyung perks up at your words.
“I had the most realistic dream about him, Tae it was amazing and awful at the same time.”
“Spill.”
You relay the events of your dream to Taehyung, starting with the removal of your dress and the tv porn, to you trying to get yourself off and the massage, and finally, you having two orgasms in your sleep.
“Two?” Taehyung’s mouth drops open when you nod in affirmation. “You know he heard you, right? There’s no way you didn’t say his name with how much you talk in your sleep.”
“That’s what I’m worried about!” You confess. “What if it weirded him out? What if he thinks ‘oh great, I married some freak who gets off to me in her sleep. Never fucking her’? What if I never have sex again Tae?”
“Okay doll, first off, you’re being way too dramatic. I know that won’t happen because if you don’t fuck something at least once a month you die. And if anything? Yoongi probably thought it was hot.”
“Liar.”
“I’m serious. If I heard some girl moaning my name in her sleep? Damn… I don’t know how he didn’t wake you up honestly.”
“Because not everyone’s a pig like you!”
Taehyung feins a gasp. “That hurts my feelings you know.”
“Suck it up.”
“Whatever. I’m telling you, Yoongi liked it.”
“What did I like?” Yoongi’s voice scares the both of you as neither of you heard him come in.
“Nothing!”
“Yoongi, did Y/N say anything in her sleep last night?”
“Taehyung!” You chide, trying to get him to stop.
Yoongi ponders this for a moment. “No, just a few mumbles here and there, but no actual words.”
“Are you sure?” Taehyung persists.
“Taehyung, stop!”
Yoongi looks confused. “I’m pretty sure? What’s this about Little Kim?”
“Nothing.” Taehyung huffs when he sees the look on your face. “Nevermind.”
“Okay, um, Y/N we have to go through all the presents at some point to send out thank you cards, do you want to do that now, or…?”
“Oh, yeah. Might as well.”
“Can I help?” Taehyung asks.
“Can you stay?” Yoongi inquires. “Big Kim said he was ready to go.”
Taehyung frowns at this just as you hear Big Kim’s voice from the other room. “Let’s go kid, your mom’s waiting.”
“Damnit, I guess not.” He curses, standing and heading toward the door. “But Y/N, open my present first.”
“Because you said that, I’m opening it last.”
Taehyung smirks before blowing you a kiss. “Have fun doll.”
“Get out already.” You groan, waving him away as you press yourself to the side of the tub, hiding your body from view as most of the bubbles have popped. Taehyung gives you one last wave before disappearing.
Yoongi gives you a nod. “I’ll wait in the living room.” He smiles before shutting the door behind him. You sink back into the tub for a few moments, listening to the mumble of voices out in the living room before deciding to get up, but therein lies a problem. Your hip screams in protest. You can’t believe you fell so hard. Shit.
“Taehyung!” You call out. Hopefully he hasn’t left yet; he’s seen you naked before and you won’t care if he helps you out.
The door opens, but it’s not the blonde hair you’re hoping for, it’s black hair. “Y/N? Are you okay?” Yoongi asks.
“Is… Is Taehyung still here?”
“No, he just left, why?”
“I… I need help.”
Yoongi cocks his head to the side. “With?”
“Getting up.”
“O-oh. Um…” He looks unsure before nodding ever so slightly. “Okay.”
He grabs a towel off the rack before walking over to you. He leans down and unplugs the drain, the water starts to swirl out of the tub in a vortex. You immediately cross your legs and cover yourself to the best of your ability as Yoongi starts up the showerhead and sprays you with warm water, washing all of the suds off of you. When he’s done, Yoongi turns the water off and turns back to you, offering you his arm to help you up. You remove one of your arms from your chest and grab hold of him, but it’s not enough leverage, so Yoongi reaches down and grabs your sides, helping to lift you to your feet as you try your best to retain your modesty.
As you step out of tub, you slip on the wet floor and fall directly into Yoongi, your wet body crashing into his crisp dress shirt. You stare up at him in shock for a moment, frozen in place as blush adorns your cheeks. Your eyes search his for some sort of reaction as they flit back and forth from your face to your body until a small smile tugs at his lips.
“How many more times are you going to fall today?” He whispers.
“I-I… I’m sorry.” You snatch the towel from his grasp and quickly wrap it around you before he can get a good look. “It’s slippery…”
“Apparently.” Yoongi muses, grabbing your robe off the hook on the back of the door and holding it out for you to slip your arms into it. When you’re surrounded by the fuzzy material, you drop the towel and tie the robe closed tightly around your waist. You go to pick up your towel, but Yoongi beats you to it, grabbing it and then hanging it back up to dry before walking back over to you and wrapping an arm around your waist to help you walk.
He walks you into your room and sits you down on the bed before walking over to your dresser. He opens a few different drawers before returning to your side and dropping clothing on the bed next to you; your favorite sweatpants, an old t shirt, and a bra with a matching pair of underwear. You blush when you see them, realizing that Yoongi just went through your underwear drawer and only hoping that he didn’t see the two vibrators or any of the lingerie that you keep in there.
“Do you want some tea?” He asks before he leaves.
“No, I’m okay for right now.”
He nods. “Okay, take your time.” He goes to leave but then apparently thinks of something else. “And no falling.” He orders, pointing a finger at you.
“No promises.” You joke as he heads to the kitchen, leaving your door open just a crack, probably in case you do fall again.
You fall back onto your bed, screaming internally as you kick your legs furiously. You don’t care how much your hip hurts; you can’t believe Yoongi just saw you naked! After your miniature tantrum, you quickly slip your clothes on and head out of your room, hanging your robe back up in the bathroom on your way to the living room. You walk into the living room to see what seems like a never ending pile of presents, all wrapped in different paper. Damn. You didn’t think that many people were actually at the wedding.
“It’s a lot, isn’t it?” You hear Yoongi say, but you can’t see him.
“Yoongi?” You inquire.
“Over here.” You see a hand shoot up from the other side of the mountain. “I figured you could open while I write?” He offers as you come into view, holding up a pen and pad as you take your usual seat on the big sofa next to his recliner.
“Yeah, that works I guess.” You state, still in shock at the sheer amount of gifts before you. “Were this many people really there last night?”
“Yeah, because I haven’t gone down to the post office to get the rest yet. And there’s this,” He tosses you a manilla envelope which you open to reveal dozens of smaller envelopes that must contain money.
“I guess we’ll start with these.” You state, taking out the first envelope.
You and Yoongi get through almost everything before the take out you ordered halfway through arrives. You answer the door while he scribbles down the last item you received; a salad spinner from the Cho’s. You pay the delivery driver and take the food, heading back to the couch and plopping your self down. You hand Yoongi his Galbi and rice and take your bibimbap out, taking a mouthful before starting up again.
“Alright, what’s next?”
“That one,” Yoongi points to a medium sized box. “From the Hwang’s.”
“Mkay.” You hoist the box into your lap and rip open the paper with one hand, eating another mouthful with the other. “Tupperware!” You fake excitement. “Again!”
“I don’t have anywhere to put this shit.” Yoongi grumbles. “We’re going to need a whole other room just for kitchen stuff.”
He’s not wrong. That’s the seventh box of tupperware you’ve received. “Just write it down, we’ll see if Taehyung’s mom needs some new tupperware.”
“Okay. Just four more and then Taehyung’s, right?” He asks around the food in his mouth.
“Yep.” You state reaching down for the next box. “This one’s from…” You look at the scribbled handwriting on the label. “Mom and uncle… oh, it’s from your parents. Do you want to open it?” You offer, holding it out to Yoongi.
He shakes his head. “Nah, go ahead.” You nod and tear the paper off, wondering what kitchen accessory they got you, but when you see it, you freeze. It’s not for the kitchen. Yoongi must notice your sudden lack of movement. “What is it?” You don’t even look up at him, you just pass him the box. The room is quiet for a moment as Yoongi studies the item. “M-massage oils, huh? That’s… that’s nice. Must be leftover… from the shop they had. “Hey, maybe you can use them on your hip?” You can’t help it when your mind immediately flashes back to your dream and heat floods your body. You try your best to ignore it and grab the next gift; a gift basket of assorted foods and wines.
“This one’s from the Muk’s.” You state quietly. Yoongi nods and writes it down. The next two gifts are a cake dome and a ten piece glass bowl set; from the Parks and the Kang’s respectively.
You grab Taehyung’s present, which has been sitting beside you ever since you found it in the pile, and place it in your lap, grabbing another bite of food before mustering up the courage to even look at it. If you know Taehyung at all, you know you shouldn’t open this in front of Yoongi, but you can’t exactly run away and hide it now, not after Taehyung made a fuss about it.
You take a deep breath before tearing open the paper just enough to see what’s inside. God, for once, you wish you weren’t right. On your lap, still partially hidden by the paper, is a bondage set; handcuffs, collar, leash, gag, blindfold, harness, it’s all there. On the top is a note in Taehyung’s handwriting.
I know your old set broke, put this one to good use, yeah? ~Tae
“I’m going to kill him.” You whisper under your breath.
“What is it?” Yoongi asks, his voice reminding you that he’s still in the room.
“Nothing, don’t write his name down, he doesn’t get a thank you card.” You hiss, standing up and holding the box to your chest. “I’ll throw it out later, don’t worry about it.” You state, walking away to your room without another word.
You shut the door behind you and sigh. Where the hell were you supposed to hide this? You walk over to your closet and shove it in the back under some old sweatshirts. That’ll have to work for now until you can find somewhere better.
You reemerge from your room and plop yourself back onto the couch, wincing a bit as you do. Yoongi eyes you carefully before standing and disappearing into his room, appearing a moment later with a heating pad. He comes over to you and plugs it in to the wall beside you before gesturing for you to sit up. You do and he places the heating pad where your hip is situated before pushing you back down gently and turning on the heat.
“That should help a little bit.” He states as he starts moving boxes of assorted kitchen accessories into the kitchen.
“So, why did you even go into work today?” You ask as you finish off your dinner.
“Why wouldn’t I go in?”
“Well, if your head hurt as much as mine, why even bother? I’m pretty sure everyone expected you to stay home anyway.”
“What do you mean?” Yoongi looks at you bewildered, as if taking a day off is an unknown concept.
“I mean, you just got married. Last night. It’s normal to take a few days off afterwards.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah. Normal people get married and then spend time together.”
“Is that what you want?” Yoongi inquires. “For me to stay home for a few days and spend time with you?”
You almost choke on a piece of egg. “What? I- no that’s not- I mean- I don’t- no I didn’t- it’s not up to me.” You finally manage to spit out. “Although it probably wouldn’t hurt to learn more about each other,” You think out loud. “But that doesn’t mean you have to!” You blurt. “Just… ugh. Do what you want.” You mumble, turning your full attention back to the few grains of rice left in your bowl. It’s quiet in the room until you hear Yoongi start talking, but he’s not talking to you.
“Hey, it’s me. Send Big Kim to the club for the next few days, I’m going to work from home with Y/N.” There’s a pause as the person on the other end of line speaks. “No, there’s nothing wrong with her. I mean, she hurt her hip, but that’s another story.” Another pause. “I just got married Jin, why the hell do you think?” Yoongi shoots you a wink. “Yeah. Okay, just let me know. Mm.” And with that he hangs up the phone.
“Yoongi, you didn’t have to-”
“You’re right.” He states, walking over and sitting next to you on the couch. “I want to learn more about you.”
“Really?”
“I know we have eternity to get to know each other, being married and all, but why not get started now?” He offers you a hopeful smile and you return it.
“Okay, yeah. Why not?”
“But not right now. I didn’t sleep all day like I assume someone else did.” He chuckles. “I’m going to bed, okay?”
You nod. “Goodnight Yoongi.”
“Goodnight Y/N.” He stands, but turns back to you to plant a soft kiss on your forehead, making you blush before he walks away into his room, leaving the door halfway open as opposed to closing it like he did when you first moved in.
The small gestures make you smile as you stand and limp your way to the kitchen to dispose of the remnants of your dinner Maybe this won’t be so bad after all? Yoongi seems to actually be making an effort. You turn off the lights and then make your way to your room, changing into pajamas and then settling down into bed.
You try your hardest to fall asleep, but something just isn’t right. You can’t put your finger on the feeling, but it’s something like… emptiness maybe? No that’s not quite it. Wait… Are you lonely? You only spent one night in Yoongi’s room with him, and he slept on the floor, but for some reason you miss his presence next to you. You readjust yourself to try and forget, closing your eyes, but you can’t seem to fight the nagging feeling in the back of your mind that’s just repeating his name over and over; Yoongi… Yoongi… Yoongi… Goddamnit.
You huff as you grab your pillow and stand up, making your way up the hallway to stand outside of Yoongi’s room, debating whether or not you should knock. Would you be bothering him? He’s taken care of you all day already, he’s probably sick of you, right? What if he’s already asleep and you wake him. You take a deep breath. Knock knock. “Yoongi…?”
“Yeah?”
“C-can I come in?”
“Of course.” It takes you a second to will your limbs to move, but you eventually push past the door and walk into his room. It’s dark except for the telltale light coming from Yoongi’s laptop screen, lighting up his face with an electronic blue glow reflecting off his glasses. “What’s up?”
“Oh um… I, uh…” You didn’t come up with an excuse. Shit.
“Can’t sleep?” Yoongi asks when he sees you tightly gripping your pillow.
“Ah, n-not really.” You admit.
“Me either.” He states with a soft chuckle. “Hence the laptop.”
“Y-yeah.” You’re still standing awkwardly in the doorway.
“Do… Do you want to stay here tonight? We can watch some tv, maybe that’ll help.” You nod and you can see Yoongi smile a bit as he waves you over. “You can sit up here with me if you want.” He offers.
“Thanks.” You whisper, walking over and plopping yourself down on the edge of the mattress as Yoongi turns the tv on.
“Won’t you be cold on top of the blankets?” He inquires, when he sees you shrug your tense shoulders, he places his hand on top of yours. “Y/N, relax, it’s okay. I won’t bite.” You put your pillow behind you and slip under the covers, snuggling down into the comfort of Yoongi’s mattress, your mind already relaxing. “You know, I’m glad you came in.” Yoongi whispers as he puts his glasses and laptop away and curls up next to you. “I was actually feeling kinda lonely to be honest…”
“Really?” You ask.
“Mhm.”
“Me too.” You admit quietly.
By the light of the television, you can see Yoongi smile at you before he yawns. “Alright well, try to get some sleep okay?”
You nod and he rolls over on his side, facing away from you and you do the same, trying to leave as much space between the two of you as possible. Surprisingly, just being near Yoongi seems to do the trick, and you quickly feel your eyelids growing heavy as you let the dull noises of the tv lull you to sleep.
When your eyes flutter open, you smile to yourself, feeling cozy and warm, and then you realize it’s because there’s a body pressed up against your back. You look at the arms wrapped around your waist to see Yoongi’s wedding ring on the left hand and giggle slightly.
It’s been four days since your wedding and you’ve spent every night since in Yoongi’s bed, but this is the first time you’ve woken to him wrapped around you. You never would’ve pegged Yoongi as a cuddler, but as his deep, soft breaths fan across your ear, it provides you with a strange sense of comfort.
As carefully as you can, you slip out of Yoongi’s embrace and get out of bed, tiptoeing out to the living room, and shutting his bedroom door behind you. You head to your room first, changing into some sweatpants and a t shirt, making sure you have pants on when Yoongi wakes up this time, before heading back out to the kitchen.
You see that it’s already almost eleven; you didn’t realize how badly Yoongi probably needed to sleep, but you decide to let him; You two stayed up pretty late last night talking and he deserves rest. Since he’s done nothing but dote on you the last few days because your hip still hurt a bit, you decide to treat him to your signature breakfast; homemade cinnamon rolls. Hopefully you’ll have them in the oven before he wakes up. It takes about an hour for you to make the dough and let it rise a sufficient amount before rolling it out and placing the sweet buns in the oven.
Just as the timer goes off, you hear the door to Yoongi’s bedroom open and turn to see him stumbling out into the living room, rubbing his eyes.
“Y/N?” He seems confused to see you in his kitchen, as if he forgot you live here too.
“Good morning!” You chirp.
“You weren’t in bed so I- What’s that smell?” Yoongi pauses as he walks toward you, sniffing at the air.
“I made breakfast, I hope you don’t mind.” You state, turning off the oven and taking the rolls out, placing them on a wire rack.
“Mind? Why would I mind? They smell amazing.” He praises, taking a seat at the breakfast bar across from you. He moves to take one out of the pan, but you quickly rap him on the wrist to stop him.
“They have to cool.” You scold.
“How long?” He pouts.
You chuckle at his childish demeanor, something you’ve gotten to see more of the last few days. “Five minutes. You can wait.” He huffs, resting his head in his hand as he drums his fingers on the counter. You turn away to finish whipping up a quick vanilla icing, only to hear Yoongi exclaim in pain a few seconds later.
“Fuck!”
You turn around just in time to see Yoongi drop the scalding hot roll back into the pan. “What did I just say?” You chide. “It’s too hot.” He just shrugs. You grab your bowl of half whipped icing and move it over to the breakfast bar to keep Yoongi in your line of sight. He seems to be in a playful mood this morning, because every few seconds, he starts to creep his hand back toward the hot pan and you have to glare at him to get him to stop until finally you whack him on his wrist with your whisk, splattering icing all over his hand and the countertop.
“Ah!” Yoongi exclaims with a chuckle. “What was that for?”
“Don’t play innocent. Just behave or you won’t get any!”
Yoongi smirks at you. “Since when are you the boss?”
“Since I made them.” You retort. “I’ll happily take these down to the club and give them to everyone else if that’s what you want.”
Yoongi growls jokingly. “Don’t you dare.”
“Then you can wait another minute and thirty seconds.” You huff, finishing your icing. When the five minutes are up, you grab two plates and a spatula, dishing out a cinnamon roll for each of you and then drizzling the icing over top. “Now you can eat.” You state, handing Yoongi a fork. He happily digs in, but quickly realizes his mistake when the hot pastry touches his tongue. “I told you it was hot.” You smirk. “Imagine how much it would’ve hurt if you hadn’t waited.”
When Yoongi manages to swallow, he responds. “Fine, you win.” He concedes, blowing on the roll this time before shoving another piece in his mouth. “Why are these so good though?”
“It’s a secret recipe.” You inform him with a satisfied smile, happy to know he’s enjoying the food you made for him.
When you both finish your breakfast, you having eaten two rolls and Yoongi four, Yoongi turns to you, seemingly content. “So, what’s the plan for today?”
“The plan?” You tilt your head in confusion as he stands up and takes your dirty dish, placing it in the dishwasher along with his.
“Yeah, what do you want to do?”
“I don’t know.” You shrug. You and Yoongi have talked about practically everything you can think of and you’re happy you know so much more about him now.
Yoongi chuckles at your response before grabbing your arm and leading you over to the couch, pushing you down into your usual seat before seating himself next to you. He turns some music on the tv and then turns to face you, lifting his feet up onto the cushion to sit cross legged.
“Is there anything left you want to ask me?”
“Well, let’s see what I know.” You rack your brain, trying to remember all the things you learned about Yoongi the last few days. “You’re twenty-five.”
“Correct.”
“You’ve lived here all your life. Your parents used to run a massage-y thing.”
“Parlor.”
“Yeah, that. You went to school for business before you were inducted, but you went to school for music first. You write hip hop and you love classical music. Chopin is your favorite composer.”
“Continue.”
“After induction you fell in love with my dad, and since you couldn’t marry him, you settled for me.” You joke.
Yoongi smirks at this. “You’re just like him you know.”
“Really?” You perk up.
“Definitely. And I didn’t settle for you.” He scolds before smiling wide. “I’m happy to spend the rest of my life with someone who makes such amazing cinnamon rolls.”
You burst out laughing at this, smacking Yoongi on the arm. “Thanks, I feel so validated.”
“I’m serious! They were so good!”
“I’m glad, but know that if I ever bring them to work, you’ll have to fight Big Kim and Taehyung for them.”
“Big Kim can have them.” Yoongi shudders at the thought of fighting the muscular man. “But I will fight Taehyung. I could totally take him.”
“Uh huh, sure.” You state, hardly convinced.
“I thought I was going to have to fight him the night I asked you to marry me. He did not want to let you go.”
“Oh come on, he’s not that bad!”
“Are you kidding? I thought he was protective before we got married. He called me a prison warden when he came over the other day!”
“He did not!” You gasp, trying to hold back your laughter.
“Yes! He walked in and bowed before saying ‘Warden, I’m here to see female inmate Min’. I was so shocked all I could say was ‘bathroom’.”
“Oh my god, I’m going to kill him.” You whine, smacking your forehead with the palm of your hand.
“It’s okay.” Yoongi assures you. “It was hilarious once my brain processed it.”
“You two are going to get along really well.” You admit.
“You think so?” Yoongi tilts his head at you.
“Definitely.”
“So, think of any questions?”
“Just one.” You state. Yoongi nods as if to encourage you. “If you’re so into music, how come you don’t have a piano or any music making stuff around now?”
Yoongi seems a bit shocked by your inquiry. “I… I don’t know. I guess, I kind of forgot about it after I switched majors. I never really have time to play anymore I’m so busy…” You see a tinge of sadness in Yoongi’s eyes, but before you can address it further, Yoongi’s phone rings on the coffee table. “Shit.” Yoongi mumbles as he picks the device up. “It’s Big Kim, do you mind?”
“Of course not.”
Yoongi nods and then answers the call. “Yeah?” There’s a pause as you listen to what sounds like chaos on the other end of the phone. “Slow down.” Another pause. “Shit, alright… Yeah, I’ll be down there as soon as I can.” And with that he hangs up.
“What’s going on?”
“One of our guys got hit out close to the line. He’s at the hospital with Big Kim. They think it was Busan, so I need to go meet my father down at the club and talk to the guys that were with him.”
“Oh, okay.” You try not to sound too disappointed. You should’ve known being in this perfect bubble with Yoongi would only last for so long.
“I’m sorry Y/N.”
“No, it’s okay. I know how this goes, trust me.”
Yoongi sighs, acting like the last thing he wants to do is leave you. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, okay?”
“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be okay.”
With one last sympathetic glance, Yoongi leans forward and places a kiss on your temple, a sign of affection he’s used multiple times over the last few days, before he stands and retreats to his room to get dressed. You sink back into the couch and pull a blanket over your lap as you change the channel to put on some random cooking show, trying to ignore the feeling of your heart sinking in your chest.
Yoongi emerges from his room a few moments later and walks over to stand behind the couch, leaning over to place one last kiss on the top of your head before he says goodbye and heads out the door.
You don’t know why you feel so shitty suddenly. It’s been nice spending the last few days with Yoongi, but can you really be that attached to him already?
Copyright © Inkjam-Moon 2019
#btssmutclub#kpopwritingnet#bts scenarios#mafia au#bts fluff#bts fanfiction#min yoongi#bts yoongi#suga#bts suga#Code of Silence#Code of Silence Series#chapter four#the next day#inkjam-moon
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playing on (my heart)strings
Two shy university students, only a wall apart. One big misunderstanding. Second chances. First loves.
♦ Pairing: Mark Lee x OC (Nahee)
♦ Genre: fluff, comedy, university!AU
♦ Words: 6.7k
♦ Warning: Mark is going to get a bit drunk in one scene *-*
♦ 99 liners’ uni stories: Yukhei / Mark / Hendery / Xiaojun
♦ Dedicated to: the one and only @dat-town who means the world to me; I wish you health and happiness for next year, and I hope you can enjoy your semester abroad as much as possible! Of course, I’m going to miss you like crazy, but you know, I’m always just a call/message away! I love you and your extraordinary you (aka you aren’t just an extra to me)! 💖💖💖
Mark Lee was a fool. A lovesick fool on top of that. A drunk lovesick fool to be precise, helplessly lying on the couch of their shared living room, mumbling to himself, almost on the verge of tears.
“I mean, she's smart and funny and... and kind and she has such a cute habit of scrunching her nose, so it's... it's no surprise that she has a boyfriend. But why now when I was ready to... What's the word again?” He stopped suddenly, his eyebrows furrowed.
He was thinking deeply. He was thinking really deeply. His mind was so foggy, the world felt like it was turning round and round around him even though he was simply lying. A pleasant kind of numbness took over his body, sending him into the state of warmth and haziness. Maybe he shouldn’t have drunk that much. Maybe the third bottle of soju was already enough, he shouldn’t have emptied a fourth one. What could he do though? He was heartbroken.
Then, he hit his forehead when the answer finally came to his mind.
“Oh yeah, confess. So to confess. Why? Why? Why?” He shrieked like a hurt puppy and started punching a random pillow. Everything felt so unfair, everything was so puzzling.
Why did she smile at him so widely then? Why did she agree to going to that newly opened café with him? Was it because she looked at him as a friend only? Was that other guy whom he saw at the library so much better than him?
If he thought about it now, that guy in the library seemed genuine and kind of a nice dude. He was also very handsome, he had more mature features than him, and maybe Nahee liked guys who looked less childish? But why were they hugging in the middle of the library and why was he feeling so damn heavy all of a sudden?
He needed to find it out, he decided as he bolted up from the couch and headed out to visit his neighbour. Though his way out of their flat was quite messy (to say the least) as he almost walked into the door, and he almost stripped over himself when he made his way out of the room, but other than that, he couldn’t put himself in danger more.
However, he finally managed to walk up to Nahee’s room a minute later, and knocked on her door a few times. He lost count after like two tries, but he was lucky because she appeared by the door not long after his first try.
“Heeeey!” Mark hollered as loudly and cheerfully as a bunch of kindergarten kids, his pinkish cheeks shining under the dim lights of the corridor.
Nahee was very much surprised by the sudden appearance of the boy. Her eyes were squinted in contemplation, wondering whether the innocent, kind guy was really drunk, but his sweet tone and stupid smile could say it all.
“Hi!” She greeted him nevertheless, putting up a smile, waiting for the reason behind his visit.
Not that she didn't want to see him. It was quite the opposite. However, he had never come to hers before, they usually met in the elevator or sometimes around the campus, so she had no idea why would he knock on her door, especially in that state.
Nahee looked at the guy expectantly, waiting for him to blurt out why he was there, but he merely stared at her for long seconds, grinning to himself as if he had been recalling some memories.
Though when he finally broke the silence, his words didn't make any sense to her.
“I’ve just wanted to congratulate you and your boyfriend. You guys are sooo cute,” he emphasised with big hand gestures which seemed both hilarious and ridiculous.
“My what?” Nahee asked back, dumbfounded. As far as she knew, she didn't have any boyfriend. In fact, she never had a boyfriend before.
Her question must have took him off-guard because his lips curled downwards and he furrowed his eyebrows in question.
“What?” he asked back but before she could say anything, the elevator door opened on their floor and another one of her neighbours arrived - Hendery who was the flatmate of Mark and Lucas. Nahee had seen him around the dorms a couple of times, she had exchanged a few words with him when they took the same elevator but nothing more.
Hendery stopped dead in his tracks when he caught sight of the duo in front of the girl's door, and looked at her and then Mark. Then, he looked back at Nahee again and then Mark again.
“What? What is going on here?” Hendery asked as he walked up to the two of them, standing beside Mark so closely that Nahee was sure that she was more afraid of his friend passing out anytime soon than embarrassing himself after hearing Mark’s reasoning.
“Did you know that Nahee has a boyfriend?” Mark asked, rather offended, and averted his gaze to his friend who looked so puzzled.
“I didn’t...” Hendery shook his head, taking a glance at the said girl who looked more frustrated than he had ever seen her before.
“I don’t have a boyfriend. What are you talking about, Mark?”
There was a moment of silence, covering all three of them with uncertainty, and neither of them knew who was more embarrassed. Nahee who had no idea why Mark suspected that she had a boyfriend; Mark who had no idea why Nahee seemed so confused when she definitely acted overly friendly with that guy at the library or Hendery who had no idea why Mark was drunk in the first place and why he decided to pay the girl a visit when he was that drunk. He must have been out of his mind, the guy thought to himself.
“I saw you with that guy at the library. You hugged him so dearly!” Mark exclaimed furiously, letting out a childish huff to show just how worked up he was.
“He’s my cousin!” Nahee exclaimed almost as furiously as Mark did, her eyes furrowed in question. “He also studies at our uni,” she added further, a wave of anxiety rushing through her veins.
“Oh,” Mark blurted out rather dumbfounded and topped his answer with an abrupt hiccup.
“Oh,” Hendery joined his friend, and Nahee didn’t know if it was a way of him showing empathy or he was genuinely surprised as well.
There was another moment of silence, neither of them knowing what to say. The funny thing was that they didn’t even dare to look each other in the eye, though it wasn’t even sure that Mark was capable at looking anyone for a few seconds straight. He had already seen multiple replicas of the girl in front of him.
“Were you jealous?” Nahee spoke up a bit timidly, looking up from under her lashes. She was almost sure that she would either not get a reply or he would try to deny everything but what she got was far from her expectations.
Mark nodded immediately, a pout playing on his chapped lips. He looked as sad as a puppy who was abandoned and left on the streets, and Nahee’s heart churned at the sight. She wished she could say something to soothe his nerves but she didn’t do anything wrong, yet he already got the wrong idea. What she could do at this rate? Especially with someone who was as drunk as Mark?
“Oh…” Hendery let out a sigh yet again as he stared at his flatmate, then clapped his hands to regain his consciousness and (hopefully) dissolve the tension in the air. “I think it’s best if we go back. Am I right, Mark? Mark, come on!” He nudged the guy’s shoulder a bit more fervently than he would normally do, but it didn’t seem that his friend got the message for the first time.
They both bid their hasty farewell before Hendery managed to manoeuver his friend back into the flat and into his own room. Mark immediately fell onto his bed, limbs all over the blankets. He felt his eyelids closing, he felt the sweet, sweet dreamworld welcoming him with open arms, with the hope for a better tomorrow and for a life without his first crush turning out to be the girlfriend of some random guy before he finally went to sleep.
It all started a few months prior.
Mark went for an 8am lecture, so he left their room in time, pushing the elevator's button and waiting for it to come to their floor.
While he was standing there in their corridor, the neighbouring flat's door was opened and an unfamiliar girl stepped out, directing a friendly smile at the boy when she caught sight of him.
"Good morning." She bobbed her head in his direction.
“Morning," Mark replied equally gently and when the elevator arrived on their floor, he waited a bit, so that the girl could close their front door before joining him going down.
He pushed the ground floor's button for two reasons. One: it was so automatic, he forgot to ask her where she was going. Two: she couldn't have wanted to go elsewhere because even the laundry room and some other facilities for the inhabiting students (such as the community room, the kitchen, the reception and some vending machines) were on the ground floor, all the other floors were made up of solely flats.
However, the girl didn't protest, so he took that as a yes and turned to her with curiosity-filled eyes.
“You live next door, then?” He came to the conclusion excitedly since he only knew their left neighbours who consisted of three guys - Wooyoung, Yunho and San -, plus he had only seen one girl coming out of the flat on their right, but that was definitely not the girl he was talking to.
“Yes." She nodded with a coy smile, lips curling upwards in an almost aesthetic way.
She was about a head shorter than him, her heart-shaped face matching her mature features well, womanly curves hidden under the autumn coat she was wearing. She wore pretty yet not too vague clothes, even her shoes were of the casual style as she wore a pair of red sneakers. Everything radiated friendliness off her from her colourful clothes to that gorgeous smile she was displaying. Her eyes were twinkling with curiosity, yet a hint of weariness could be detected under the joyful demeanour.
"I'm Nahee," she introduced herself before the silence could stretch too long and he realized that he must have been staring at her longer than it was appropriate in such a situation.
Oh god, why did he need to be so embarrassing? It seemed as if he couldn’t find the right words whenever he was around people whom he met for the first time. To be precise, when he met girls for the first time. It wasn’t that bad when it came to other boys.
He shook his head to get rid of the thoughts that invaded his mind and he also introduced himself.
"I'm Mark," he added with an equally shy smile and scratched his nape out of uneasiness. Gosh, why was he always so awkward around girls? "I’ve never actually seen you before. Are you in your first year?” he chirped zealously, hoping that his questions could hide the fact that he was in fact quite nervous.
Nahee smiled that sweet smile of hers, one that was as bright as the sunrise on a winter morning. Even this little act could warm his heart and send excited waves through his body. What was happening to him? Why was he so pumped up so suddenly?
“Yes, I’m in my first year,” she nodded and looked away for a second before she looked back at him again.
“You too? Me too!" He hollered loudly, earning a chuckle from the girl that was as light as the spring breeze that lingers between trees in the blooming season.
“I guess we had just different schedules before,” she reasoned gently, and Mark knew that she was probably right.
Even the three of them with his flatmates had totally different schedules, it was ridiculous. They could never have lunch together, dinner could be managed only once out of five days of the week. They were good friends, so of course they wanted to spend more time together, but that was how life worked out sometimes.
The elevator reached the ground floor right at this time, so they both headed out. Mark was about to ask where exactly Nahee was going, but she seemed determinate enough, so he assumed that she would probably let him know if she wanted to go a different way.
“What are you studying, by the way?” he inquired genuinely because he had this urge to get to know her better. Of course, he wanted to get to know her better just because she was his neighbour. What other reason could he have had? It was good to know basic facts about his neighbours, right? Like the fact that one of his neighbours - San - had a plushie named Shiber and it almost got stuck in the elevator door when the guys had just moved in. That was also quite basic, right?
“Art History," she responded with a sweet smile that made it obvious to him that she liked her choice of major.
“You too? Me too," he repeated himself, but the girl was already about to speak up when he added quickly:
“Oh no, I’m not an Art History student. I was just kidding, sorry. That was a bad joke.” He waved his hands in front of his chest while crossing the street in hopes of clarifying himself. He was sure that he embarrassed himself more than he would have liked to, but the girl was actually quite understanding.
“It's okay, don't worry.”
“I actually study American history and culture," he shared with her zealously, but his wide smile just grew even wider when the girl excitedly started asking whether he liked his major or not, what kind of classes he took and what he wanted to do as his career later on since she had been eyeing American history and culture during her senior year but opted for Art History in the end.
While talking about their studies, favourite lectures and boring, old professors, time really flew by fast, and they had to bid their goodbye eventually. Nahee had a class in the Art department's building while Mark had his lecture in a different one, so they parted ways with wide smiles and a hope to see each other again soon.
Mark didn’t even keep count of the days because he felt like his thoughts were all over the place and he would have been lost without his school calendar anyway, so it did take him by surprise when he saw Nahee coming out of the flat in the dorms while he was waiting for the elevator to reach their floor.
“Same day, same time,” the girl pointed out with a knowing smile, and Mark wished he could have said that he wanted to say the same, but he didn’t remember which day they had first met. Which was a pity because he did enjoy talking to her and he did remember everything about that conversation and not just because of that excited feeling and his funnily beating heart.
However, he didn’t remember the day, so he blurted out something else:
“It might just be our new habit.”
Nahee was the first one to break into laughter - the airy, kind one -, and Mark followed her soon. It was just so easy to let himself be around her, and even though he was pretty sure that he had made a fool out of himself a lot of times (like a LOT) while talking to her, she didn’t seem to mind.
“So I’ve wanted to ask, can any of you guys play the guitar?” The girl suddenly turned to him with her body, blinking at him oh so innocently. He didn’t know why it was important, but he decided to answer nevertheless.
“Oh yes, two of us can.”
“I keep hearing someone play at nights,” she added, lips curling upwards at the memories. She looked like she was daydreaming while she was recalling some songs she had heard during all those nights such as Ed Sheeran’s Hearts Don’t Break Around Here and Tamia’s Officially Missing You. “It’s pretty soothing,” she admitted sheepishly, cheeks burning up at her confession.
Not like she would have told the boy that she did enjoy listening to those songs and the voice of that special someone who was singing his heart out because he may have thought that she was a bit odd. Liking when your neighbour plays the guitar and sings at night? At least, she didn’t have to listen to someone who had a horrible voice and sang only Hallelujah and other heartbreaking songs. She liked the serenity and coziness of his neighbour's singing sessions.
“Oh really?” Mark asked, eyes widening at her choice of words.
He had a feeling that she was talking about him because he was the one who played his guitar randomly at nights and sang his favourite songs, but he couldn’t have been sure, right? The guys on the other side could have played too? Though he was certain it wasn’t Hendery because even though he knew how to play the guitar, he didn’t make a habit out of it unlike Mark who couldn’t let go of his guitar even after moving away from home because of his university studies.
The words were on the top of his tongue, but somehow they were lost somewhere between the first and the ground floor, and by the way they bid their goodbyes yet again, he forgot to mention that perhaps it was him whom she had heard playing, and so she missed the chance to get to know that the guy whose voice she found soothing and beautiful, the voice that could stop her tears from falling when she failed an exam for the first time in her life, was actually Mark’s.
Soon, it became their habit to go with the same elevator ride on Tuesdays, and the more they talked, the more they were looking forward to see each other again.
Mark found it endearing whenever he could make her smile because it was easy to make her smile (or so it seemed to him), and he always felt better when he could see her lips curling upwards and hear her laugh that was like a melody that he wished he could have played on his guitar but it was so indescribable, so irreplaceable and so irresistible that he just couldn’t, so he listened to it whenever he could, his heart at ease and body recharged with warmth just like she did whenever he was playing his guitar on the other side of her room’s wall.
He noticed how cutely she crunched her nose whenever she was pondering or the way her eyes created little crescents whenever she was laughing too hard. She also had some expressions that she loved using such as ‘good grief’ and he couldn’t help but chuckle whenever she was trying hard not to laugh but she did anyway. She was cute.
No, not just cute, she was adorable from her head to toe. Her whole being was refreshing and beaming, he couldn’t seem to get enough of her presence. He kept looking for her at the dorms, on the corridors at university, in front of the vending machines on the ground floor, even in the grocery store that was around their campus. When sometimes he caught sight of her taking out the rubbish, he did the same, acting surprised when he bumped into her.
He didn’t know what was this new sensation, he just couldn’t stop thinking about her, and he kept singing songs that resonated with him, secretly hoping that she would understand the meaning behind his choice of song - especially after he had once blurted out that it was him who played the guitar at nights and she coyly complimented him. Gosh, he was such a blushing mess when she did so! He couldn’t handle compliments, but it went both ways anyway.
So he didn’t even know if it was his boldness taking hold of him or the fact that he really wanted to spend time together with her apart from the Tuesday elevator rides, but he did suggest going to the newly opened café not far from their uni because he knew just how much she loved hot drinks from lattés to hot chocolate, and he didn’t have a problem with them either. He was almost sure that Nahee would say no, especially when she didn’t answer for a few seconds after his question, and he almost went back on his words, but she did say yes eventually and he was the happiest man on Earth in that moment.
The problem came when he had to decide what to wear before their café encounter. Should he just go for a casual look? Or should he try something more elegant? Looking as if it was a special occasion? Because it was, and he was definitely not going to go in his PJs. Gosh, why was life so difficult?
He let out a huff and childishly pouted. Choosing an outfit for himself had never seem so difficult before. He didn't even know why he stressed too much over trivial things such as his appearance. It's not like it was going to be a date, right? Right?
Anyway, after another ten minutes or so, he decided on a casual look with a striped flannel shirt with a white tee and a pair of jeans. He was sure he had never checked himself out in so many mirrors and mirror-like materials than he did that day while he was walking to the café before the arranged time. He didn't like to be late (unlike some people at uni... Lucas for example), and he was sure that he wouldn’t change his habit that exact day.
So when he arrived at the café approximately 15 minutes prior the set time, he was surprised to find Nahee already there.
"Hey! You're here early," he noted with a lopsided smile as he took the seat beside hers.
She looked radiant even without any special kind of makeup, it was her smile that lighted up the whole place and the fire in his heart. He was already melting under her gaze.
"Oh yes, I had a class, and I didn't want to risk not arriving here on time, so I didn't go back to the dorms," she explained beamingly, putting her elbows down on the table, turning to the boy with her body. "You are here early, too," she pointed out, eyes forming happy little crescents.
Mark hated lying and he was a terrible liar, so he couldn't have gone with an excuse like hers. He opted for his general reason instead of the lengthy one.
"Well, I don't like being late." He scratched his nape out of embarrassment, and he wished the ground could have swallowed him whole. This situation was just too much to handle.
Anyway, the waitress came up to them and saved him from further embarrassment. At least for the time being because the moment she was gone, silence fell upon them, and he couldn't even decide whether it was an awkward one or whether it was a comfortable one. He did enjoy being around her, even if it meant that they were doing nothing at all. Her presence alone was able to make stupid little things to the state of his heart, and being beside her was enough to fill him up with joy and playfulness.
On the other hand, not knowing what to do or how to bring up a topic did irritate him, and he wished he knew how to break the silence as casually as Lucas always did, but he wasn't like his friend and roommate. Neither could he drop a joke out of the blue or start dancing like a silly child just like Hendery had done. He felt more comfortable when he didn't have to speak up first.
"So uhm... Like... You know... Like..." He stuttered while ruffling his hair constantly, frustration settling in his stomach. "How did you enjoy your class?" he blurted out the first thing that came to his mind even though it was one of the most neutral questions he could have asked from the girl he wanted to know not just on a neutral level.
Nahee didn't seem to mind his question, nor his obvious stuttering, she merely directed a smile at him and started talking about some Romanticism-era styled contemporary painting, and Mark had no idea how the two could come together in a painting, but she was so zealous, he merely sat there with a silly smile plastered on his face and listened to her chattering. He realized he could have listened to her for hours even if she talked about something he wasn't familiar with. She was that kind of a person.
Despite his initial discomfort, he had to admit that the café rendez-vous didn't turn out as horrible as he had previously expected. Of course there were awkward silences and blurted out sentences that he wished he could have taken back, but it was far not the most anxiety-provoking conversation he had. Not to mention that he got to know a lot about Nahee, and may it be because of the change in scenery or the fact that they had more than 15 minutes to talk, but she became raw to the point she talked about her depression openly to him and the struggles she faced in high school because of her mental illness. It wasn't an easy topic to talk about, he could assume and also sense it in her behaviour.
So he did appreciate her honesty a whole lot, and made sure that she knew that he was there for her if she needed anyone to talk to. Even though he had barely known her, that conversation was actually the longest they had, he did care about her and her well-being, and he would never want to see her suffer, no matter what was the cause of her pain.
On top of that, her honesty prompted him to talk about the pressure he felt as an only child, how much he wanted to repay his parents for everything they had given upon, so that he could have the life he had and the difficulties he faced as an American-Korean child.
It was refreshing to talk about such matters and to have someone who could listen to him well because even though he had Hendery and Lucas who were his absolute best friends, they still didn't usually touch upon such subjects. It was good to talk to someone about what was on his mind and what was going on in his heart, especially if that someone was as supportive and open-minded as Nahee was.
On the other hand, they didn't talk about solemn subjects only, they also laughed and joked around a lot. As it was easy to make her laugh, Mark didn't really mind that he was like a ball of spontaneous jokes that he thought he timed wrongly even though she never once looked at him oddly.
"I haven't had such a good conversation lately," Nahee admitted out of the blue, earning a shy smile from Mark. He felt his cheeks burning up and he was sure that his ears turned red as well.
"Same here," he added coyly, hiding his face in his hands after his confession.
She merely giggled at his antics as she was already used to Mark's embarrassment-induced habits just as he was already used to hers. They hadn't known each other very well, but they always caught sight of such things without an exception.
"Maybe we could come here again if you are up for it. I really like this place," Nahee confessed with a wide smile, her fingers playing with the napkin beside her hot chocolate. Maybe she was just as anxious as he was, she was just better at concealing it, but with everything else, Mark noticed the smallest things she did and so he wasn't that afraid to agree with her.
"I like it, too." He nodded with a silly smile and he wished he was brave enough to say more, but he was content that he could say this much already, and it was enough that he knew what he wanted to say next:
And I like you, too.
Mark liked to think that he was doing well. Well, apart from occasionally having second-hand embarrassment and cringing from what words could have slipped from his mouth, he was convinced that he was doing well. Nahee seemed to enjoy herself when she was around him, and she didn’t look oddly at him even when he wanted nothing more but for the ground to swallow him in whole.
It didn’t help either that his flatmates also took notice of his antics and started teasing him about scoring himself a date at the café when he wasn’t even sure that it could have been considered a date. He didn’t want to consider it a date because he wanted to properly ask her out and he definitely didn’t do that when he suggested visiting the newly opened café. Plus, how was he supposed to know how to ask someone out? Nahee was the first girl in his life with whom he got this far, so he was in no way sure what he was doing, but he went along with it because he didn’t want to play stupid roles and be someone else.
He was constantly thinking of ways how to ask her out properly, he even looked up the question on Naver and he even asked Lucas who was unhelpful in every sense.
“You just have to find the right time and then pop the question. You will know when the times comes. Don’t worry, buddy,” the other boy told him and patted his shoulder.
Hah, as if Mark himself had been as casual and smooth as Lucas had been. Though he could witness with his own two eyes that Lucas wasn’t always that confident and cunning around the girl he currently liked, but still… he was at an advantage in comparison to Mark.
Mark sometimes tossed and turned in bed, not being able to bat an eye because he didn’t want to mess this up, he really didn’t want to mess this up. Other times he found himself daydreaming in the middle of a lecture or zoning out while recalling the sound of Nahee’s laughter.
That day, too, he was supposed to study for one of his exams in the library but instead his thoughts kept going back to the unsolved problem of his current situation.
Needless to say, he almost made himself believe that he was merely hallucinating when he caught sight of the girl in the library, looking around as if she was looking for someone in particular. He was about to raise his hand to wave in her direction but he stopped right away when a guy walked up to Nahee and he… He just hugged her out of the blue! Or was it Nahee who initiated the hug?
He had no idea, but his heart sunk at the sight and he found it difficult to breathe. No, it couldn’t be… She wasn’t the kind of girl who would play with guys’ hearts. No, he was certain of that. So was it because she looked at him only as a friend? Gosh, why did he even think that anyone - the smart and sweet and funny and understanding and raw Nahee out of all - would like to date a guy like him?
He couldn’t bear to watch the scene unfold in front of his eyes, the duo sharing happy glances and laughing together as if they had known each other for a long time. He couldn’t bear to watch it because he felt his heart breaking into tiny little pieces.
He needed something to distract him from feeling the way he did, so he went to the nearby store immediately and bought himself multiple bottles of soju that would be enough for a solid party with his bros but today it was just him and his pitiful heart, getting drunk on love.
To be precise, an unrequited love.
Mark Lee was as embarrassed as ever. Getting drunk because of love? He didn’t think that he would be that kind of person. He considered himself a well-mannered and responsible guy, someone who wouldn’t turn to alcohol just because his heart was broken. Not like he knew what he would feel like if he was in love in the first place.
The fact that him seeing Nahee with another guy was a misunderstanding made everything worse. Way, way worse. He shouldn’t have acted so carelessly, especially because he should have known that he could hurt the girl in the process by stating something that wasn’t true. But he really did think that the guy at the library was her boyfriend and it wouldn’t have been unbelievable, he thought that she deserved someone who could treat her right and someone who could appreciate her with all her lovely personality traits and cute little habits. She was such an endearing human being, it was easy to love her, thus he wouldn’t have been so surprised if she had a boyfriend. Just a bit disappointed. Like that night when he drank his bitterness away.
Anyway, life went on and he had to move on from his own guilt and self-hatred if he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life in their dorm room because he was too ashamed to go out and meet people, especially their lovely neighbour.
Which happened anyway because the once eagerly anticipated Tuesday arrived when they would always be going at the same time, and it wasn’t different this time either.
He didn’t look for her, he merely stepped out of the flat and once he pushed the elevator’s button, the door of the neighbouring flat was opened and Nahee stepped out with a somewhat guilty smile as if she had been the one to repent something.
“Hey,” she greeted him with that sweet tone of hers and he immediately felt the lung in his throat.
How could he deserve her kindness even after what he had done? How could she look at him like that with so much affectionate in her eyes even if he had obviously hurt her that night?
“Hi,” he croaked out a bit hoarsely, not remembering that his voice was always this raspy.
The elevator arrived on their floor almost immediately and he let her get in first and then he joined her, pushing the ground floor’s button. Inevitably, silence covered them like a layer that they couldn’t get rid off no matter how uncomfortable it was even though he wanted nothing else but to dissolve the tension in the air.
He just didn’t know what to say. He had been thinking over this question ever since he became sober and he couldn’t find the right words to say, he couldn’t pluck up the courage and knock on her door, confessing how sorry he was for everything he had done. No matter how much he tossed and turned in bed, he couldn’t bring himself to it.
However, his heart rate picked up its speed and he suddenly felt a wave of restlessness spreading through his veins, so from the moment he spoke up next, he didn’t stop until he was finished:
“Look, I’m so sorry. I don’t even know what has gotten hold of me. I’m really sorry for disturbing you while drunk and I’m really sorry for everything I’ve said. I really didn’t want to hurt you like that, and I’m sure you wouldn’t want to meet me again. That’s totally fine with me, really. I deserve it.”
He let out a long sigh after he was finished with his monologue and glanced a bit at the girl who seemed so startled. And sad? Gosh, he couldn’t focus on anything else except his crazily beating heart. He was so afraid that she would hear just how loud it beated that he unconsciously put his hand over his heart as if he could pacify it with only a touch of his.
“Mark, it’s not you who should be sorry,” Nahee spoke up a few seconds later, and he immediately forgot about the state of his heart. He turned to her with his full body, eyes wide in confusion. “I’m so sorry for the misunderstanding with my cousin. You must have been so perplexed.”
The air was stuck in his lungs for a moment, he forgot to breathe. She was sorry for him? How could she be sorry? It was all his fault.
“No, no, don’t be sorry. You have no reason to be sorry.” He held up his hands in front of his chest, indicating with his body language just how much he disagreed with her.
“But you were so sad when you came to me that night, and I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea when I don’t even have a boyfriend,” she remarked with a childish pout, her gaze darting between different parts of the elevator. She looked so uncomfortable, it was such an odd sight to him. “Were you really jealous?” Nahee turned back to him, looking up from under her lashes, her stare making his legs go weak.
“Oh well…” He scratched the back of his nape, trying to form words that didn’t seem too eager or inappropriate. “Yeees. A tiny little bit,” he admitted although he was almost sure that he had said the same thing that night as well. Or maybe he didn’t? Gosh, why did he need to drink so much?
Upon hearing his answer, the girl let out a chuckle and suddenly the atmosphere didn’t seem so gloomy and awkward anymore. It was all gone with the sound of her laughter.
“You don’t have to worry. There’s no boy in my life other than you.”
The elevator door opened right at this moment, leaving two frozen bodies inside to decide what to do. Nahee reached for one of her locks to start playing with it while Mark was sure that his jaw was nearing the floor. Did he hear it right? Oh god, he didn’t overthink those glances from the girl, the way she was so open to her and the amount of time she spent with him! Gosh, was it just a dream?
“So do you want to go back to that café? As a date?” Mark blurted out without thinking twice, and when the girl nodded, he knew that Lucas was right.
He knew when the time would come and he did dare to ask the question then.
Maybe he wasn’t that much of a fool. He was a lovesick boy for sure, but maybe he wasn’t that big of a fool.
#nctwriters#kpopwritingnet#kreativewritersnet#kwritersworldnet#nct scenarios#mark lee scenarios#nct imagines#mark lee imagines#superm imagines#superm scenarios#nct fluff#nct university au#mark lee fluff#university student!mark#restlessmaknae
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