⚙️Who: Jeon Wonwoo (Seventeen) x female reader
⚙️What: Dark themes (check warnings). Some fluff. Sci-fi. Strangers to Friends to Lovers. Cyborg Wonwoo. Cyborg reader. 18+
⚙️Word count: 4.6k
⚙️Warnings: Blood. Mentions of death (though it’s not shown). Guns (not used during the story). Memory loss. Human experimentation. Ex-soldier Wonwoo. Reader has a codename she's uses as her name. Profanity. A single solitary kiss. I guess, technically, they’re both fugitives in a way, but also not idk. I think that’s all. Marked 18+ because I do not want minors interacting with this work.
⚙️Summary:
For years, Wonwoo has been searching. Searching for his past that was stolen from him by those who turned him into a walking abomination. Half man, half machine; a monster to control as they please, to dirty his hands and keep theirs clean of the blood and sin.
Just when he finally finds the source, the lab he was torn apart and put back together in, memories lost along the way, he finds you. Another cyborg, but he doesn’t see an abomination when he looks at you; just an innocent he needs to save, needs to guide and help grow into a better person than he will ever be.
For the first time in a long time, Wonwoo puts his search for his past aside and instead focuses on helping another find their future. And just maybe, he finds his own along the way.
Minors do NOT interact. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in their bio, or for any of the reasons listed in this post, including blank blogs and blogs without any fics reblogged.
Masterlist
A/N- If there are mistakes in this, please ignore them, I wrote this at the last minute to try and stay on my self-imposed schedule (I’m two day late 🤡)
- Idea came from playing the Writing Roller in @dorereef’s server. My prompts were: sci-fi, robots/ cyborgs, small town, and science lab! Admittedly, the small town part is kind of glanced over, but it still counts 😌
Sweat drips down his face, mixing with the blood splattered and smeared there. His. Theirs. Both. It doesn’t matter. Not anymore.
Part of him thinks that perhaps it never mattered really, not when they spilled his so easily for their own whims, made him spill others’. It doesn’t matter whose he wears now, it’s all the same in the end. They all deserve it at this point.
Chest heaving, searching for oxygen only half of him needs, he doesn’t slow, doesn’t give anyone the chance to escape the fate they designed for themselves. Even if they didn’t know it at the time. Neither did he, but he does now.
The bottom of his sturdy boot comes down on the final door, and he barges in, gun raised and ready to mow down every single human in this reprehensible lab, hidden away beneath the forest edging a small town nobody has heard of. That nobody cares about.
Yet, the eyes that stare at him from the examination bed — nothing more than a metal table — don’t belong to a human. One eye has the distinctive, electronic blue glow he knows is mirrored in one of his own. A cyborg; part human, part machine. Like him. The other eye stares at him, wide in fear and confusion, human. Not like him. He lost his humanity long ago.
“I won’t hurt you,” he declares, words leaving before he fully realises what he’s doing, already lowering his gun to approach where you lay naked and vulnerable strapped to the metal table, leather around your limbs, your waist, your throat. “I won’t hurt you,” he repeats, putting down his gun on the table behind him once he’s standing on your right, eyes darting over your binds with a frown; sympathetic and remembering. Hating. Hurting.
You say nothing, just continue to stare up at him with those big eyes, only one holding any real emotion, the other calculating as the computer implanted in your brain scans his face, brings up any information about him that it can find. But he knows it will find nothing; he doesn’t exist. Not anymore. This lab was his last chance to find out why, but his anger got the better of him and now all he has to show for his mission is the blood staining his skin.
“Can you hear me?” he asks. “Do you understand what I am saying to you?” Slowly, as if it takes a whole lot of effort and concentration, you nod. “Good. I will untie you, please stay still. I don’t want to hurt you, but if I think you’re going to try to hurt me I won’t hesitate to kill you.” He’s not sure if you take his warning to heart, you don’t react in any way past a single blink up at him, but he doesn’t wait any longer and starts to work on unbuckling each of the thick leather straps trapping you against the cold metal.
Once you’re free, he steps back to give you space. Yet you remain there, silent and watching. He frowns a little, confused, but doesn’t question you; instead, he makes a motion for you to stay — hoping you’ll understand — then leaves the lab with his gun clutched securely in his hold. Both because he can’t be certain he truly did kill every fucked-up scientist and assistant in this lab, and because he can’t be certain he can trust you to not claim the weapon for your own and shoot him the second he re-enters the room.
Though, when he returns with a bag bulging with items he’s procured from various lockers in the changing rooms, he finds you laid exactly where he left you, eyes glued to the door. For a split second, he even thinks he sees that human eye light up a little upon spotting him, but he refuses to delude himself like that.
“I found some clothes for us both,” he declares, putting down the bag — though he keeps his gun — to cross the room and fill a tub with warm water from the sink. Once back at your side, he puts the tub down and pulls some cloths from the bag to drop into the water. “Can you sit up? Dress yourself?” You only stare, and he sighs. “Okay, just… wait there I guess, let me clean up first.”
After so many years of being stripped down, prodded, and poked, cut open and closed back up, Wonwoo has no issue or concerns about removing all of his clothing — keeping his weapons close to him and far from your reach, of course — and washing the blood from his exposed, blood smeared skin right before your unflinching gaze. He knows you’re watching him; he can feel your gaze on him, curious and analytical. He wonders what the computer they fitted you with tells you about him; about the metal obvious without clothes in the way, the degrading synthetic skin, the scarred human skin. He wonders, but he doesn’t ask.
Once he’s cleaned and dried, he quickly dresses in the clothes he found that just about fit him — even if the jeans are a little tight on his thighs where both are full of mechanic enhancements under human skin; to blend in if exposed while still having the upper hand in a fight or chase — and fits all his holsters and holders back onto his body, fitting him better than any clothing ever has. He thinks it sad that he can’t remember if there’s real truth to that, or if that only applies to this version of him. Perhaps it’s better he doesn’t know, doesn’t remember who he was before this life. Still, he wants to know. There’s a big part of him missing, and he feels that ache every single day.
“Your turn,” he says upon turning to face you now that he’s ready down to his boots — still his own, he won’t give these reliable boots up until he physically can’t wear them anymore, no matter how blood stained they are — and the jacket he found, which he, admittedly, has taken quite the liking to.
Honestly, Wonwoo hadn’t really expected you to respond, not based on his experience with you so far, but he had still hoped you would. Of course, you don’t, you just stare, and he gets to work wiping the dried blood from your skin — your own; hours, maybe even days, old — and manoeuvring your helpless body into clothing.
By the time he’s done, he thinks you look a little more alert, a little less like you’re an aimless consciousness stuck in a body, but a living being. Well, as living as a cyborg can be, he supposes.
“First things first, let’s make sure your systems are online,” he decides, moving around the table you lay on to approach the computer on your left, enough space between the two tables for someone to easily walk along. He feels your eyes follow him, and he glances over to see that you’ve rolled your head to allow the observation. That’s good, at least he knows that you can move one part of your body.
After spending years being marched in and out of labs just like this one; for checkups, to be enhanced further, to be shut down — though that one they obviously didn’t succeed in —; Wonwoo knows his way around a computer, especially as the skill is written into his code so that he can do his own maintenance when out in the field. It was probably a big regret of theirs to give him the knowledge to look into his own code and slowly understand what he is, what they’ve done to him, why he can’t remember anything from before waking up naked and strapped by leather to a metal table much like you are right now.
That thought makes him realise that you probably have just been awoken, that your mind is a blank slate, and you truly don’t know anything. No wonder you haven’t tried to speak; you don’t know how yet. At least, you don’t remember how. He doesn’t know if they implanted any knowledge chips within you, but he seriously fucking hopes so. He has no idea how he’s going to essentially raise a baby the size of a grown woman, because that’s all you really are right now; a newborn.
Thankfully, he finds the computer ready to go, paused in the process of unlocking the information in those chips — and he’s relieved to see that you have almost all of the same ones as he does, so he knows you should figure out talking, walking, and other basic necessities pretty quickly — but Wonwoo’s appearance in the lab had really ruined things, and whoever was in charge of waking you didn’t manage to get the job done. He’s really glad of that, because judging by the fancy, state of the art combat chips he can see in your file, you’d take him in a fight easily.
Although he doesn’t really want to be responsible for keeping you safe when he has to watch his own back already, Wonwoo doesn’t unlock the combat chip, still not sure he can trust you to be on his side. For now, he unlocks the necessities, and hovers over the one titled “data” and wonders what that could mean. He can’t even open the folder on the computer; it’s the only one that requires a passcode and Wonwoo certainly doesn’t have that. As much as he would love to know what kind of data they planned to fill your head with, he has no choice but to ignore it.
Sudden movement in his peripheral makes Wonwoo turn, ready to react, but he relaxes upon realising that it’s you, twitching intermittently as information loads in your head and you try to escape the onslaught.
In all they did to him in the labs, in all they cut him open and dug around inside while he was conscious and able to feel everything, Wonwoo knows the information upload is far worse. It was the only time he ever argued, ever tried to fight, and inevitably earned enough sedation to make him unable to fight, though it only lasted long enough to get him strapped down and connected to the computer. Wonwoo doesn’t really fear anything, not at this point, but having a new data chip unlocked is as close as he gets.
“I know it hurts in a way you couldn’t describe even if you had the words, but it’ll be over soon. I’m sorry for making you go through this pain, but you need the knowledge to survive,” he says, reaching out to put a hand to your shoulder, sympathetic and sharing your pain in his memories, though he knows those can never compare to the real thing.
They must’ve improved the system since Wonwoo was last connected to one, because far quicker than he ever remembers his uploads happening, it’s over, and your panting body slumps against metal, welcoming the cool of it against your heated skin.
He returns to the computer to see what else needs to be done to have you functional, and he finds a file there hidden in your system, one he’s never seen in his own. ID. Wonwoo’s heart skips a beat as he stares at those two letters, two letters that mean nothing really, while meaning everything at the same time. He clicks into the file and his heart hurts. Right there before his very eyes is a redacted file, proof that you were something before all this, even if all he can read is a codename.
“Valentine,” he murmurs, then turns his head to look at you. He’s not surprised to find your eyes already on him, tired, yet alert, full of new knowledge. Full of pain. “Does that mean anything to you? That name?”
It takes a moment, but you slowly shake your head, still trying to get used to the sudden data in your head, manuals of how to work your body, of how to speak, but it will still take a little time for you to truly understand the information in your mind and put it to use. He understands that.
“It’s you, apparently, your codename. You can see that in your mind, yes? The ID file, that’s this.” He turns the monitor so that you can see it. Your eyes glance over it, but you don’t linger, don’t seem to care. He doesn’t blame you. A name means nothing to an empty person. “My name’s Wonwoo,” he says, moving a little closer to greet you properly, with respect he hasn’t felt for another in a long time. But you’re not like anyone else he’s met in a long time. You’re like him. Sort of.
“W…” you try to repeat, and he nods encouragingly while moving closer, slowly sounding out his name and exaggerating his mouth movements for you to carefully study. Your second attempt is far better, though still not quite right. “Wanoo,” you say; he can’t help but chuckle. You frown a little, and he can’t tell if you look more confused or offended at his laughter, yet then beam at him as if you’re proud of making him laugh, even a little. “Wanoo.”
“Wonwoo.”
“Wanoo,” you insist, and he snorts, figuring you’re being stubborn just to amuse him. It’s working. “Val. Wanoo.”
“Val and Wonwoo,” he agrees, giving you a little smile. “And Val and Wonwoo should get out of here sooner rather than later, before the cavalry arrive.”
“Cav’ry,” you repeat, human eye glossing over a little as you search your system for the word.
He leaves you to your mental exploration and makes short work of safely disconnecting you from the computer before closing up the access panel hidden amongst your hair behind your left ear. You let him, seem to trust him, and that makes something long missing warm in his chest, fill out a little.
“C’mon, I’m going to need your help to get us both out of here,” he prompts once he’s back at your side and helping you to sit up. You make a surprised sound at the change of position, but you obligingly do your best to lift your left arm to put it around his shoulders and turn to get off the bed with his right arm secure around your waist.
The first few steps almost fail entirely, you can’t quite get your legs to work, but Wonwoo is surprisingly patient about it, more patient than he thought he could be with a stranger, and gently talks you through it, step by literal step.
It’s slow work, but it gets easier, then faster, and by the time the two of you step out into the hut within the forest that hides the entrance to the lab, he barely has to support you.
He can tell that you’re tired from using muscles you potentially haven’t used in months — he didn’t get a good enough look at your file to know if you were previously asleep on ice until needed, or if you were picked off a battlefield on the brink of death and turned into something entirely knew — but you don’t complain and determinedly keep on, so Wonwoo doesn’t give you chance to change your mind about it. The two of you need to get as far away from here as possible, as fast as possible.
It’s not until two days, five different vehicles, and three episodes of you almost wandering off, attention caught by something new, that Wonwoo lets the two of you rest.
No sooner has he kicked out the stand of his borrowed — stolen — motorbike on the dirt of a field out of the way, does he drop to the mostly dead grass, arms and legs spread wide to let his body rest, taking big sighs of air and letting them dance away on the cool breeze.
You stare down at him for only a moment before copying and flopping down on the grass at his side, close enough to lay your head on his outstretched bicep, uncaring that it’s metal under his synthetic skin and can’t be comfortable. Then again, the back of your head feels far too sturdy to be bone, so he assumes at least part of your skull has been replaced with metal, so you likely can’t even feel his stiff arm under you anyway.
“Stay here now, Wanoo?” you ask after a few moments of quiet calm. He rolls his head against the grass so that he can look at you, watch you peer up at him with nothing but trust in that human eye. He wonders how long it will take for that shine to dimmish, for him to fuck up and make you lose all faith in him.
He hopes it won’t happen; he hopes you’ll always want to be by his side, because, admittedly, he’s already grown rather fond of you and your innocence; your smile; your everything, really. But he won’t delude himself into believing he’s destined for such things, that he deserves more than a lonely life of an empty pit in his chest, always aching for love to fill it. He won’t delude himself, but he hopes.
“Just for a bit,” he confirms, reaching up with his free arm so that he can gently brush the strands of wind-blown hair away from your face. You let him and just smile. “We’ll need to flee further, find somewhere safe to plan our next step.”
“Next step?” you repeat, curious.
“Mm. I went to that lab to find out who I am, what memories they stole about my past. It was my last chance and I fucked it up.”
“Val and Wanoo find memories,” you declare, nodding. “Find you.”
“You’ll help me?” he asks, a little surprised, and very touched. You nod firmly. “It will be dangerous.”
“Val protect Wanoo, Wanoo protect Val.”
“I…Yes, I suppose we will,” he agrees, lips lifting into a smile. “And maybe then we can find out why your speech isn’t developed as it should be. Until then, you will keep trying to copy my speech patterns, yes?”
“Yes,” you confirm without hesitation. Not that he’s surprised about that, you agree with everything Wonwoo says, you do whatever he tells you to without complaint. “Copy Wanoo.”
“Mm, copy Wanoo.” He settles back down, directing his smile to the afternoon sky above you both. It only grows when you shuffle closer as if there’s nowhere else you’d ever rather be than tucked up by his side.
Somehow, even though the two of you never stop looking, never stop moving and taking the next step towards finding who he once was, Wonwoo forgets that.
Not entirely, of course, there’s always a part of him that is aware of the goal, of the part of him that’s been missing for years now. But ever since the day he kicked down that lab door and found you, that hole has taken up less and less of his thoughts. Now, you fill them. And when he thinks about that hole, he realises that it’s filling with you.
Sometimes, when the day has been calm, and the two of you have done nothing but simply exist together, he considers it. Considers telling you the truth about it. Considers telling himself the truth about no longer really caring about who he once was. But he doesn’t, he can’t gain the courage for it.
Wonwoo may be a creature made for war, made to march into the middle of battle unflinchingly and come out on top, but he’s not brave enough to tell you that he’s fallen for you and never wants to go back to the man he was before you.
Then, the day passes and you bounce over to him with those big, proud eyes to tell him your plan for the next step that the two of you can take to find his past, to tell him the information you’ve somehow found when he’s failed so many times, and he can only go along with it, hiding his patched over heart and hoping that one day, he can be brave enough.
For now, he continues to stay close to your side, enjoy the calm days, protect you through the rough ones — even if he’s taught you everything he knows about fighting —, and pretend that he doesn’t want to take you away somewhere and forget all about this life. Pretend that he doesn’t want to make a new life with you.
“Wanoo,” you chirp, using that same name he’s found so ridiculously endearing from the start, and is glad that you never stopped using even once your speech developed as it should’ve. You poke him in the forehead to make him tilt his head back to focus on you instead of staring off across the horizon, once again stuck in his dreams of a braver Wonwoo.
“Mm?” he replies, blinking up at you as he clears the clouds from his mind.
“It’s time to go, we’ve got to stakeout the Mechanic,” you remind, reaching down to grab his hand from his lap and tug him up from his perch on the bonnet of the car the two of you have been using for months now.
“Oh, right.” He nods and lets you lead him around to the driver’s side door. He always lets you lead him around; would let you take him anywhere if you hold his hand. He’s very aware of how much of a contrast that is compared to the man you met; dripping blood and threatening to kill you if you try to hurt him. Even he can’t believe how soft he’s become because of you, only for you.
“Maybe we should see if he can look into your system and see why you keep going spacy like that,” you suggest while opening the door, then hold it steady while motioning within using the hand you’ve just removed from his.
He takes a moment to gently brush your hair out of your face before getting into the driver’s seat. He’ll always take the chance to touch you, only encouraged by the fact you’ve never told him to stop, never shied away and only turned into his hold like a flower to the sun.
“My system’s fine,” he assures moments later once you’ve skipped around to get into the passenger seat while he starts the car up.
“Sure?”
“Positive. It’s this skin that needs tending to,” he mutters, eyeing the patch of synthetic skin over his left wrist where it’s worn away to the extreme that his mechanics are showing through.
“Hopefully this Mechanic has some.”
“Mm, hopefully. Or, at least, he can transplant some from elsewhere that I can easier hide from the public gaze and protect from moisture.”
“No nude beaches then, huh?” you joke, and he laughs, eyes on the winding road ahead. “Shame, you’ve got the body to show off; you’d have all the women over you.”
“I don’t want them.”
“No? We’ve been together for almost a year now and you’ve never looked at anyone. Are you not interested in that? Romance, sex?”
Wonwoo wants to say that he’s interested in you, only you, but he can’t. He doesn’t say anything, and you never push him, always follow his lead; you fall quiet too and turn your head to watch the world pass by instead of watching him.
“You know, I wouldn’t be upset if you didn’t come home for a night now and then, not if I know you’re safe and not in danger,” you state out of the blue hours later, after hours of calm silence; the kind of silence the two of you can often spend hours in, even days sometimes.
He rolls his head against the headrest of his seat to look at you, curled up comfortably in the passenger seat with your eyes glued to the grimy old store front down the street where it’s rumoured The Mechanic works out of. Though he’s a hard man to get any information on, and Wonwoo still doesn’t know how you got his location. Or suspected location, as the matter may be. There’s been no sign of life so far.
You must feel Wonwoo’s gaze, but you don’t look at him, not this time, even if you usually always turn to him. Always know when he is looking at you and gaze unwaveringly right back. You usually always meet him head on without hesitation, and it’s only now that you’re not that he realises it. That he understands, and his heart fills to the point of warming his whole body.
“You can take a break from your past to have fun with a stranger in the present,” you state in a tone that sounds like you’re reminding him of that, that he’s allowed to exist outside of his search for who he once was.
“Then where would it leave my future?” he questions. He watches your eyebrows furrow, and your features screw up as you try to decipher what he means and how to answer it. Even though one of you should constantly keep attention on the storefront for any sign of the Mechanic, he reaches out to tenderly cup your face and turn you to look at him. “I stopped caring about who I was some time ago, Val.”
“What?” You frown at him confusedly. “Why are we still searching if you don’t care?”
“Because I’m a coward.” You only grow more visibly bewildered. “Ever since we met, I’ve cared less and less about my past because you…you’re my future,” he confesses and lets out a breath, feels all the much lighter for it. “I have no interest in finding a stranger for the present because I only want you. Even if you don’t want me, I won’t go with anyone else. You’re everything to me; the only past I care about, the only present I want, and the only future I can imagine. I’ve just been too scared to tell you that.”
You take a moment to stare up at him, eyes big and trusting, and even with the mechanical blue glow in one, so fucking beautiful. “What changed?” you ask, voice quiet and holding an unsteady quality he’s never heard you use, emotional in a way he’s never heard on you before.
“You didn’t look at me.”
You huff a laugh. “What? I always look at you.”
“Exactly. You always look at me without hesitation, without fear, and you have since the very first moment. Yet then when you said I can stay out with another woman, you didn’t look at me.”
“Oh.”
“Mm.” He smiles and lifts his free hand to your face to hold you so reverently in both hands, human eye full of soft adoration. Even though he knows it’s impossible, he likes to imagine his mechanical one looks at you with love too, that you can see it in the soft blue glow just like you can in the brown of the other. He knows you can see it, it’s obvious the moment you notice because you melt in his hold and tilt towards him like you always have. Like he had missed in those short moments you hadn’t. “Will you confirm it for me, sweetheart? Will you tell me if I’m your future too?”
You let out a soft laugh, like it’s crazy he even has to ask, like it’s just a simple fact of the world. “Wanoo, you’re my everything.”
His smile brightens bigger than he can remember smiling, though it doesn’t last long. It’s a little hard to smile with his whole heart when his lips are busy on yours, after all.
Don't forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖
Word Count: 5,852
Genre: Angst, fluff
AU: Non idol AU, Parent AU
Tropes: Established relationship (Jaehyun), lovers to co-parents/friends (Doyoung)
Rating: PG, but I still ask that MINORS DNI!
Warnings: Religious themes, brief anxiety about going to hell, probably inaccurate representation of parents making custody arrangements, Dongyoung is a little weird about reader at the start but they eventually settle into a healthy friendship. If you think I missed something though, please let me know!
Summary: As you adjust to life after leaving Dongyoung for the last time, you find comfort and companionship in his best friend and experience some unexpected mindset changes.
A/N: Finally, this series is done. This part is really different from the previous chapters, so I cannot wait to hear what everyone thinks about it! It was really cathartic to write because of how perfectly reader's thoughts/feelings/experiences in this chapter mirror some things I've been struggling with in my own life.
I'd like to give a special shout out to @petrichor-han and @effervescentorbs for giving me feedback on the ending.
And last but not least, If you'd like to read the previous parts of this series, the masterlist can be found here! Thank you for all the love on this series.
Adjusting to life with Jiyeon was a lot more difficult than you ever could have anticipated. Sure, you knew that your life would change after having a baby, and you loved your daughter more than words could ever say, but you never could have anticipated just how exhausted you would be all the time while you learned how to take care of a newborn as you went.
The additional problem of learning how to have a healthy co-parenting relationship with Dongyoung didn’t help matters, either. Still, you knew that it was the right thing to do. Dongyoug would never be the man that you wanted him to be, and expecting him to change was like expecting hell to freeze over.
Not having Dongyoung in your life anymore didn’t mean that you were alone, though. Nayeon, Jisoo, and Jaehyun were right by your side, and having your friends and lover in your corner was a lifeline as you adjusted to life as a mother. Not only did they step in and take care of Jiyeon when you needed to rest, but they also made sure that you didn’t lose the parts of you that had taken a backseat to your new role as you struggled to balance it all.
But before you knew it, your maternity leave was almost over. So, you made arrangements with your parents, Jisoo, and Nayeon to take care of Jiyeon while you worked. You went over your lesson plans over and over to make sure that you were in the right place when you went back to teaching. You even sat Jaehyun down to figure out how much longer he would stay with you to help with Jiyeon after you went back to work. You’d thought of every possibility, and once everything was in place, you felt like you were ready to go back to teaching.
The day before you were supposed to go back to work, you were putting some finishing touches on a presentation for your students, since Jaehyun had offered to feed Jiyeon before her nap. After she was fed and burped, you heard Jaehyun start singing a lullaby, and your heart swelled. Sure, Jaehyun wasn’t Jiyeon’s biological father, but as far as you were concerned, the love that he’d shown her from the moment that she arrived more than qualified him to be her dad.
Once Jiyeon was sleeping soundly in her crib, Jaehyun found you in the living room and kissed your forehead, asking, “How long have you been working on this, baby?”
“No idea, but I’m almost done!”
“Define ‘almost,’” Jaehyun said with a laugh.
“I just need to add a few more pictures and fix some typos.”
“Ok, as soon as you’re done, you’re taking a break.”
“Fine,” you said with a dramatic roll of your eyes as you went back to work.
Just like you agreed, you finished fixing all of the little details, and once your presentation was done, you basically collapsed into Jaehyun’s arms. Between preparing to go back to work and caring for Jiyeon, you’d been exhausted, so you were relieved when you got the opportunity to finally rest.
However, your cozy moment with the man that you loved was interrupted by a knock on the door. With a dramatic sigh, you stood to answer it, expecting your parents or one of the traveling salesmen that refused to leave you alone on the other side.
Instead, you opened the door and saw Dongyoung for the first time since Jiyeon was born.
“What do you want?” you asked, too tired to even try to pretend you were happy to see him.
“Can we talk? I’d really like to make some sort of plan to see Jiyeon more often.”
“You had months to have this conversation, Dongyoung. Why now?”
“I don’t know. I just realized that I haven’t seen her since the birth, and I wanna make it right,” he answered, fidgeting and avoiding eye contact as he spoke.
Not wanting to deny Dongyoung time with his daughter, you stepped aside so he could come in and said, “Ok. How much time do you want?”
“As much time as you’re willing to give me,” he answered as he stepped inside and looked around your apartment. He stopped exactly where he was when he turned and saw Jaehyun sitting on your couch and asked, “What is he doing here?”
“He’s been staying here to help me take care of Jiyeon,” you answered, leaving no further room for questions. Then, the two of you went over your work schedules and discussed when each of you would be available to care for Jiyeon, moving plans around until you had a custody arrangement that both of you were happy with.
“Can I see her now?” Dongyoung asked.
“She’s sleeping.”
“Oh, ok.”
With that, you tried to gently encourage Dongyoung to move toward the door, but before he actually left, he turned around and asked, “By the way, are you busy this weekend?” He tried to make it sound casual, but you could tell exactly what he wanted from the hopeful and slightly desperate look in his eyes.
“Jaehyun and I have plans, actually,” you answered.
Dongyoung’s face fell as he muttered something about how he shouldn’t have come. You opened your mouth to ask him what he meant, but before you could say a word, Jaehyun asked, “Sorry, what was that?”
“Nothing,” Dongyoung answered.
“No, say it,” Jaehyun said, standing from the couch and stepping closer to Dongyoung. “What was that about how you shouldn’t have come?”
“I was just disappointed that you two have plans because I was hoping that we could reconnect,” Dongyoung mumbled, clearly embarrassed that he’d been called out.
“Well she isn't interested,” Jaehyun snapped, stepping between you and Dongyoung.
The two of them went back and forth for what felt like an eternity, but was probably just a few minutes. At some point, however, Dongyoung stepped around Jaehyun, turned to you, and begged, “Come on. Say something, please.”
“You have a lot of audacity showing up here and lying about wanting to see Jiyeon.”
“I wasn’t lying. I just-”
“Used our child to try to talk to me about getting back together? I know.”
With a defeated sigh, Dongyoung said, “I’m sorry.”
You let out a sigh of your own before you said, “Dongyoung, I need you to do two things for me. Ok?”
“What are they?” he asked, perking up slightly like he thought that he had a chance.
“First, I need you to only contact me if it is directly related to Jiyeon. Nothing else.” There was a moment of silence as he processed your words, and you continued, “Second, I need you to remember that Jiyeon is the only reason we’re even speaking right now. Do you understand?” you asked matter-of-factly.
Dongyoung seemed to deflate at your words, but he still said, “Ok,” and left your apartment.
After Dongyoung left, you practically collapsed into Jaehyun’s arms, exhausted by both the argument and the chaotic day you’d had. Your lover held you close while you tried to relax, whispering soft reassurances that everything would be ok and desperately hoping that you believed him.
A few hours after Dongyoung left, Jiyeon woke up crying. Without a second thought, you went to your bedroom, carefully lifting her out of her crib as you whispered, “It's ok. I'm right here.”
You checked her diaper, and just like you were expecting, it was full. So, you immediately got everything out and changed her, humming softly while you worked. Once she was clean again, Jiyeon calmed down, and you savored the quiet moment with your little girl.
Sure, you greatly appreciated the people around you that were available to help you take care of your daughter, but your favorite moments of the day were always when it was just the two of you. No work-related interruptions, no distractions, just bonding time that kept you grounded while the world seemed to spin out of control around you.
After your conversation, Dongyoung kept his word. He only contacted you when it was related to Jiyeon, and he didn’t bring up the idea of rekindling your relationship again. Considering your history, it was the last thing you were expecting, but you were immensely grateful for it.
A small part of you was disappointed by how your relationship with Dongyoung had changed over the years. But, as you grew apart from Dongyoung, you grew closer to Jaehyun, and that made you miss what you used to have a lot less. A small part of you felt guilty for immediately making it official with your ex’s best friend, but at the same time, you were relieved that you had someone to help you handle the things that life threw at you. Especially considering the fact that Jaehyun made you feel safer and more loved than Dongyoung ever had.
The day that you asked Jaehyun to move in with you permanently was one of the best days of your life. Nayeon and Jisoo had agreed to take care of Jiyeon so the two of you could have the conversation privately, so you invited Jaehyun to a nearby park.
When you got to the park, the two of you sat down on a nearby bench, and you decided to just bite the bullet and asked, “How do you feel about moving in permanently instead of going home next month, like we agreed when my maternity leave ended?”
Jaehyun was quiet for a minute before he said, “I was hoping that you would ask. Are Nayeon and Jisoo ok with it?”
“Yeah, they are. I talked to them about it before I asked you.”
“Then yeah, I think that sounds wonderful.”
With that, Jaehyun pulled you close, and you couldn’t help but think that there was nowhere else you wanted to be in that moment.
The weekend after Jaehyun's belongings were all moved into your apartment, Dongyoung came over to pick Jiyeon up. Just like always, he knocked on the door, and you answered, holding your daughter in your arms. When Dongyoung saw Jiyeon, he lit up, asking, “How is my little angel doing?”
Jiyeon reached for her father immediately, and with a soft laugh, you gently placed her in Dongyoung’s arms and said, “I think she missed you.”
“I missed her too,” he said as you moved out of the way to let him in.
Dongyoung carefully stepped into the apartment that used to be his, sitting on the couch with Jiyeon falling asleep in his arms as you updated him about the last week. You went over everything from an updated burping routine to the lullabies that seemed to be most effective at putting her to sleep. He listened intently to all of it, adding his own thoughts and observations from his weekends taking care of Jiyeon.
While the two of you talked, you noticed Dongyoung looking around the apartment and asked, “Is everything ok?”
“Oh, yeah,” he answered, snapping himself out of his thoughts. “I just noticed that the layout looks a little different. Did you move stuff around?”
“Yeah, we moved some things to make room for the rest of Jaehyun’s stuff. He’s moving in long-term.”
Dongyoung didn't speak for a minute, clearly surprised, but when he did speak, he just mumbled, “I'm happy for you two.”
“Thank you,” you said, not really sure how to continue the conversation. After a brief awkward silence though, you decided to ask, “How are you doing?” Sure, it wasn’t exactly related to Jiyeon, but you figured that a quick check-in couldn’t hurt.
Dongyoung looked surprised by your question, but he still answered, “I think I'm ok.” He hesitated before he continued, “Kind of lonely, if I'm being honest? Most of my friends don't live nearby anymore, so it's basically just me in the new apartment unless it's my time with one or both of the kids.”
“I didn't know that,” you mumbled.
Dongyoung immediately sat up straighter and said, “It's ok. I'm fine, really. I've been looking for churches in the area, so that'll help. I talked to my neighbor, and she said that she'd watch the kids during service if I find one.” He spoke quickly, like he was desperate to convince both you and himself that everything was ok.
Not wanting to push him, but also not wanting him to be alone, you just said, “If you need to talk, just send me a text.”
“I thought you didn't want me to talk to you unless it was related to Jiyeon.”
You thought for a minute and sighed before you said, “Well, you show up for her, and that means a lot to me. I meant what I said about not getting back together, but I don't mind talking sometimes. Besides, if you're not at your best, it's gonna be harder to give Jiyeon what she needs.”
Dongyoung looked genuinely relieved as he said, “Thanks. That means a lot.” He was quiet for a minute before he continued, “Could you help me get her stuff to the car?”
“Yeah, of course.”
With that, Dongyoung carefully placed your sleeping daughter in her car seat, and the two of you worked together to load the car. Then, when you were done, he smiled at you before he got in and drove home with Jiyeon.
As you walked back in, you thought about the shifts in your relationship with Dongyoung over the years, wondering if your conversation today was a sign of another shift. After all, the two of you clearly weren’t meant to be lovers, but maybe the two of you could respectfully co-parent and potentially be friends again down the line.
It was a random Sunday when Jaehyun asked you if you would be willing to meet his parents. Jiyeon was at Dongyoung’s house for the weekend, and Nayeon and Jisoo were out of the house, so you and Jaehyun were just enjoying the time to yourselves. You took your time grading papers while Jaehyun organized the bookshelf that sat in your bedroom, and at some point, he just asked, “What do you think about meeting my parents?”
“I’m open to it. Why do you ask?”
“Well, I talk about you a lot,” he answered with a shy chuckle. “They really wanna get to know you.”
“Do they know how we met?”
“They know some of the details, but at the end of the day, do they need to know the whole story? They know that I love you, and that’s what matters as far as I’m concerned,” he said, moving away from the bookshelf to sit next to you at the table.
With a sigh, you answered, “I guess you’re right. I’m just worried about being judged, you know?”
“I understand that completely. But I promise you, my parents aren’t the judgemental type. They have no room to be, trust me.”
You thought about it for a moment, then you said, “Ok. As long as you're sure that it'll be ok.”
“I am. I'll call my mom later to set everything up.” There was a beat of silence before he said, “I love you so much.”
“I love you too.”
With that, the two of you went back to your respective tasks, finishing them in silence. As you graded the rest of the assignments in your pile, you enjoyed the comfort that you found in Jaehyun’s steady presence in your life.
When you actually showed up to Mr. and Mrs. Jeong’s house a few weeks later, overnight bags in your arms, you were far less nervous than you expected to be. You couldn’t really explain it, but a sense of peace had settled over you, and you were certain that no matter what happened, everything would be ok. Your best guess as to why you weren’t nervous was the feeling of safety that came from going into a new experience with Jaehyun by your side.
When Jaehyun knocked on the door, his mom opened it and said, “Hi! Come on in. Jaehyun has told us so much about you.”
After Mrs. Jeong stepped out of the doorway, you slowly stepped into her home, holding Jaehyun’s hand. Something about his hand in yours just kept you grounded in unfamiliar situations.
From the moment you sat next to Jaehyun on the couch, Mrs. Jeong was eager to get to know you. “So,” she began, tell me about yourself.”
“Well, I've been a teacher for the past six years, and I have a four-month-old daughter.”
“Jaehyun talks about Jiyeon all the time. We would have loved to meet her today,” Mrs. Jeong responded.
“She's with her father this weekend, but I'd be happy to arrange a visit during my time with her so that you can meet her.”
Mrs. Jeong beamed, and her husband finally entered the room. With a warm smile on his face, he approached you, shook your hand, and introduced himself. Then, he sat down next to Mrs. Jeong and asked, “How did you and Jaehyun meet?”
You thought about how much you were comfortable telling them for a minute before you looked down and said, “I was in a relationship with Dongyoung when we met. He visited to catch up with Dongyoung, and we hit it off. Then wfter Dongyoung and I split, we started seeing each other.” You looked up to see how they would react, and you saw a hint of understanding in Mrs. Jeong’s eyes. So, you smiled and continued, “I really didn't expect our relationship to move so quickly. Originally, Jaehyun was planning to stay with me temporarily to help me take care of Jiyeon. But as time passed, I fell for him harder than I ever could have expected, and now I can't picture my life without him.”
You looked over at Jaehyun, and with a soft smile, your lover said, “I knew you were the one as soon as I saw that smile for the first time.”
“I'm so happy Jaehyun found someone like you,” Mrs. Jeong said.
With that, the four of you continued to talk, and your anxiety about Mr. and Mrs. Jeong judging you for your past mistakes practically melted away. They were nothing but warm and kind to you, and you were optimistic about the future of your relationship with Jaehyun and his family.
Eventually, the conversation shifted to your upbringing, and you spoke about your time at church. “My parents are religious, but I never really connected with any higher power the way they did,” you explained. “I don't know if I was doing it wrong or if there just isn't anything to connect to, but as an adult I made peace with the fact that it just isn't for me.” Almost as an afterthought, you mumbled, “I sort of wish it was, though.”
You’d never admitted that you wanted to believe in God before. Not to Dongyoung, not to Jaehyun, not to anyone. So why were you telling Jaehyun’s parents now? Especially considering this was the first time you’d ever met them? You had absolutely no idea. Still, it was kind of nice to finally say it out loud.
Mr. and Mrs. Jeong looked at each other with an expression you couldn’t quite identify before Mr. Jeong turned back to you and said, “Would you like to come to church with us tomorrow?”
You thought about saying no. You really did. But a feeling that you couldn’t name settled into your gut as you processed the question, and you found yourself saying, “Yes, I would.”
“Wonderful!” Mrs. Jeong said. “Service starts at 9:30, and we usually leave at 9:00 to get there on time to find our seats.”
“I’ll make sure I’m ready,” you responded, still questioning why you said yes.
“Now, I’m sure Jaehyun told you this,” Mrs. Jeong continued, “but we set you two up in his old bedroom for the weekend. Do you need me to show you where it is?”
“I’ll show her,” Jaehyun answered. Then, he turned to you and asked, “Are you ready?” You nodded, and he silently motioned for you to follow him to where you’d be sleeping for the night. Then, once your belongings were put in their temporary places, you took some time to yourself to think, mainly wondering what the feeling in your gut was that told you to go to church with your boyfriend’s parents.
The next day, you walked into church with Jaehyun's family, still asking yourself why you agreed to go. Of course, you knew the answer already. You agreed because you loved Jaehyun, and you wanted to get to know his family. Plus, every time you thought about it, you felt something pulling you in. For a brief moment, you wondered if that something was a higher power, but you shook the thought away. After all, you’d spent literal decades trying for a connection that clearly wasn’t gonna happen. So why now?
As you sat in the pew next to Jaehyun, you tried desperately to calm your racing thoughts. Thoughts of listening to another sermon about how basically everyone who didn’t do whatever they could to be perfect were destined for hellfire were rampant, and you were desperately hoping that the service would be different from the ones you were used to. Or at least, if it was all the same, you hoped that service would be short.
While you tried to stay present in the moment instead of drifting back to your childhood and getting stuck in memories, you heard the pastor start to speak. “Hello, everyone,” he said. “Thank you for joining us today.”
You heard a few people greet the reverend back before he said the opening prayer, and a sense of calm washed over you that you weren’t expecting. As you listened to the first few hymns, you started to wonder if maybe you could find the connection with the divine that you’d always wanted.
When it was time for the sermon, you felt nervous for the first time since you walked in the door. What was the pastor going to say? Would he turn out just like the pastor from your childhood church and spew hate from the pulpit? Or would he approach ministry more like Dongyoung did and emphasize love and truth above all else?
“Hello again, everyone,” the pastor began. “Before I begin today's sermon, I want to remind you all of something. I know I tell you this every week, but it always bears repeating. God love you, no matter what you've done, and you're on this earth because you are loved by Him.”
His words practically smacked you in the face, and before you could even try to stop it, you started to cry. The idea that he started every sermon that way made you far more emotional than you were prepared to handle, and you silently hoped the rest of the sermon wouldn't be as emotional.
However, things didn't usually go the way you hoped they would. The rest of the sermon was about helping those that need more support, both in life and their faith journeys. The entire time, you struggled to hold it together, but not because you were upset. Instead, it was because you felt more seen than you thought was possible, especially in a religous setting.
The reverend concluded his sermon by saying, “Find a way to show love to someone who needs it this week, and remember that it's ok if you need to show yourself a little bit of extra love.”
After the final hymn and closing prayer, Mrs. Jeong turned to you and said, “Follow me.” You did, and she brought you over to speak to her pastor. After she found him, she introduced him and explained that you were attending with her family for the first time.
“It’s so nice to meet you,” he said as he took your hand to shake. “I'm Reverend Suh.”
“Your sermon today was lovely,” you said, trying desperately not to start crying again.
“Thank you. It was an important one, I think. A lot of people forget to show themselves the kind of love that God has for all of us.”
With a sigh, you responded, “Yeah, I definitely think I fall into that category.”
Reverend Suh processed what you said, and after a moment of thought, he asked, “Would you like to pray with me?”
You hesitantly said yes, and Reverend Suh and Mrs. Jeong took your hands. After everyone bowed their heads, Reverend Suh prayed that you would find the peace you were looking for, and just like when service began, you felt uncharacteristically calm.
After the prayer, you thanked Reverend Suh and left with Mrs. Jeong to find her husband and Jaehyun. While you walked around the church, you wondered if maybe faith was for you, after all.
When you went back home after meeting Jaehyun’s parents, you had way more questions than answers. What did the way you felt during service mean? Was it the connection that you’d been seeking for most of your life? You had no idea. So, you decided to do the one thing that you never thought you would do. You prayed.
You asked whatever higher power was up there to tell you what they wanted from you, and as a show of good faith, asked for guidance to be the best mother that you could be to Jiyeon. Once you were done, you felt uncharacteristically calm, and once again, you wondered if the church you attended as a kid just wasn’t leading you down the path that you were meant to be on.
Throughout the next week at work, you wondered constantly about what it all meant. So, one day, during your lunch break, you downloaded a Bible app on your phone and started reading. Sure, you’d always preferred reading physical books to using apps, but you really didn’t want to spend money on something that you didn’t know yet if you wanted to explore further. Besides, using an app allowed you to compare translations in a way that made the text way easier to understand than when you’d had to study it as a kid. But before you knew it, your break was over, and you had to get back to work.
When you got home, the first thing you did was check on Jiyeon. Your little girl was perfectly content in Nayeon’s arms, looking like she was about to fall asleep any minute. So, you left the room, softly thanking Nayeon as you walked away, and went to the living room.
Once you were back to the living room, you did the same thing you’d done during your lunch break. You opened the Bible app you’d downloaded, selected a random book, and started to read. Almost right away, verses started to stand out in ways that they hadn’t before. You sort felt like you were losing it, if you were being completely honest with yourself. But at the same time, you felt more calm and focused than you ever had in previous attempts at studying the Bible.
Still, you couldn’t help but wonder, why now? Why after you’d already made mistakes that you were certain put you in the “too far gone to save” category? After you’d basically given up on the idea that any higher power or divine being would bother to listen to you? You had no idea, but you did know that the certainty that you were doing the right thing that settled into your gut as you grabbed a notebook and pen to write down the verses that stood out to you as you read was stronger than anything you’d ever felt before.
As you stared at the list of proverbs that you’d written down, you started to cry. You cried for the years that you’d spent wondering why you weren’t good enough for God to love you. You cried for the pain that came with walking away from a faith that kept your parents going but only made you want to give up when you were a kid. You cried for the parts of you that were still desperate for a sense of purpose, a reason that you belonged in the world around you. But most of all, you cried tears of joy because of the way that everything seemed to fall into place for you to find your way back.
You were so lost in your own thoughts, you didn’t notice Nayeon enter the living room and ask you what was wrong. You didn’t even realize she was there until she tapped your shoulder, causing you to jump. When you looked over to see your roommate and friend standing next to you, you quickly wiped your tears away with your sleeve and asked, “What’s up?”
“I asked you what’s wrong. I heard you crying.”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” you answered, still fighting back tears.
“Bullshit.” As she looked at your frantic notes, she looked slightly uncomfortable and asked, “What’s all this?”
“Long story.”
“I have an hour before I need to be ready for a date with Jisoo. Try me.”
That was when you told her everything, from the way you felt going to church with Jaehyun’s parents to the fact that you were taking actual notes reading the Bible for the first time in your life. As you spoke, you started to cry again, and Nayeon pulled you into a hug.
“Listen, I’m gonna be honest with you,” she said. “I know that church isn’t for me. I tried, but it just isn’t. But everything you’re telling me makes me think it might be for you. Just, don’t go down any pipelines or anything. That won’t end well for anyone, including you.”
“I won’t,” you said, smiling for the first time in what felt like days. “I promise.”
“Thank you,” Nayeon said, looking like she was about to start crying too. After a brief silence, she asked, “Are you ok?”
With a sigh, you answered, “Yeah, I think I am. Thanks for listening.”
“It’s no problem. I’m gonna go get ready now, but if you need anything else, just let me know.”
“I will.”
After Nayeon the room to get ready for her date with Jisoo, you decided to find Jaehyun. Just when you started to get frustrated with looking for him, he walked in the door, and you said, “Hi, baby.”
“Hi, my love. Are you ok? You look like you’ve been crying.”
“Yeah, I’m dealing with some stuff.”
“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asked as he set his things down.
You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you practically collapsed next to him on the couch, hugging him so tight you were almost worried that you were going to hurt him. After you calmed down a little bit, you told him about what you were doing and asked, “How do you feel about continuing to go to church with your parents?”
“I think it sounds like a good idea. I’ve been thinking about it anyway. Besides, my mom will be thrilled.”
You laughed softly and said, “I don’t really know how to explain it. I just know that I need to do it, if that makes sense.”
“It does, and I promise I’ll be right there with you.”
“Thank you.”
After your conversation with Jaehyun, the two of you started to go to church together every week. With every service sitting in a pew next to the man you loved, you grew more certain that you were doing the right thing, and you were frankly ecstatic that you were finally starting to build the relationship with God that you’d been looking for since childhood.
Once you were certain that it was what you wanted, you went to a nearby bookstore to buy a physical copy of the Bible, instead of continuing to use an app. Sure, using an app had helped you start reading the book again, but for long-term study and reading, you really wanted to use a physical copy. Once you chose one that spoke to you, you found a pen and a set of highlighters so that you could take notes, and you were overjoyed.
On top of reading and studying the Bible itself, you spent hours researching different denominations and their beliefs, trying to understand where your own worldview fit into things. In the end, you decided that the denomination that Jaehyun’s parents’ church belonged to aligned with your values, and you were happy to keep attending with them. Plus, the fact that you got along so well with his family certainly helped your relationship with Jaehyun.
A few months after you started regularly attending church with Jaehyun’s family, Dongyoung arrived at your apartment to pick Jiyeon up and stopped to look at you for a minute, which he didn’t usually do. You wondered if you had something stuck in your teeth or something, but before you could ask, he said, “You look different.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re carrying yourself differently than you used to. You seem a lot calmer than usual. Did something happen recently?”
For a brief moment, you wondered if you should tell him about going to church with Jaehyun. You initially decided against it, but after another moment of thought, you said, “I mean, I started going to church again. Maybe that's it?”
“You what?” Dongyoung asked, clearly surprised.
“I know,” you said with a sigh. “When I met Jaehyun’s parents a few months ago, they invited me to go with them. I went, and actually felt something for the first time. I've been going to their church since, and I've never felt more at home.”
“Wow,” he said, his voice softening as he processed what you told him. “Not what I expected, but I'm happy for you.”
“Thanks.”
Dongyoung was quiet for a minute before he said, “I went back a few weeks ago. Ministry may not have been the right path for me, but I couldn't just walk away fron faith entirely.”
“I understand that,” you said as you helped Dongyoung pack his car with Jiyeon’s things. “For what it's worth, if it's what you want, I think you could find your way back to it.”
“Thank you,” he said, clearly trying not to show how emotional he was. After taking a moment to collect himself, he said, “If you ever wanna, you know, talk about it, or have any questions, I’d be happy to listen. No matter what it is, I'm sure I've wrestled with it on my own.”
“That means a lot to me. I might take you up on it at some point. I have some things I've been wondering about lately.”
“You know where to find me.”
With that, he got in his car, and you watched him drive away. Once he was out of your line of sight, you went inside to spend some quiet time with Jaehyun and think about how your life had changed so much in what felt like a short period of time.
Thank you everyone for reading! If you liked this one, please make sure to like and reblog!
If you wanna check out my other works, my masterlist can be found here. If you wanna see what I'm working on, my upcoming works list is here. If you'd like to be tagged whenever I upload a new fic, my taglist form is here! You can also send me an ask or dm at any time to be added or removed.
Thank you again for reading, and have a wonderful day!
Word Count: 5,437
Genre: Angst, fluff
AU: Non idol AU, Teacher AU
Tropes: Friends to lovers to strangers
Rating: PG, but I still ask that MINORS DNI!
Warnings: Swearing, slightly toxic relationship near the end, Jihoon is a little obsessive about being the best, no happy ending. If you think I missed something though, please let me know!
Summary: Jihoon was willing to do whatever it took to be the best, even if it cost him his marriage.
A/N: This fic is an incredibly late submission for the Angst Olympics collab. I'm so happy to get this one out there! If you like it please check out the other writers that are part of this incredible project.
Also, Jihoon's personality in this one was heavily inspired by "Are You Satisfied?" by Marina, as you can probably tell from the lyrics in the banner.
Taglist: @xomakara, @chugging-antiseptic-dye, @effervescentorbs, @okiedokrie-main, @notyourjaem, @ikeukiss, @shadowkoo, @1-800-jewon, @myneurodivergentworld
Send me an ask or dm to be added or removed!
Fic is under the cut.
When you first met Jihoon, you had no idea just how important he would become as you lived your life. All you knew was that the two of you were in the same physics class, and your teacher, Mr. Jeon, had just paired you up for a project. The details of the project made very little sense to you, but Jihoon understood all of it perfectly. You were honestly amazed by how quickly he seemed to grasp everything when it came to the course material, especially considering physics was a subject that you’d always struggled in.
You were smart, sure, but history and English had always been easier for you to understand than math and science, which seemed to be Jihoon’s strengths based on the fact that he always got the highest grades in your class. You sort of felt like an asshole for admitting it to yourself, but you couldn’t help but feel relieved when Mr. Jeon told you that you would be working with him.
One of the things that you learned very quickly about Jihoon was that he always felt like he needed to be the best. Of course, you learned it the hard way, by doing one of the simpler parts of the project to a standard that he considered unacceptable. You showed him your work during one of your meetings at his house, and when he looked over the sheet of equations, he looked at you with what you could only describe as disgust and asked, “Are you kidding me?”
“What do you mean?”
“All of these are wrong.”
“No, they aren’t. I checked them three times.”
“Then you didn’t check them correctly. Look,” he responded, showing you the mistakes that you’d missed. You wanted to leave in that moment, but your pride wouldn’t let you. So, you took the paper back with a huff and fixed the mistakes that Jihoon had pointed out. Once you were fairly sure you’d fixed everything, you gave the paper back to your partner, and he gave you a smile before he said, “See?”
You rolled your eyes in response and said, “Whatever, let’s just get this over with.”
The last time the two of you got together to put finishing touches on your project, Jihoon seemed a lot more nervous than usual. So, once the two of you were settled at his dining room table, you asked, “Is everything ok?”
“Yeah, I’m ok. Just nervous about this project, you know?”
You sighed and answered, “Yeah, I know. My whole grade is riding on this.”
“I sort of figured you were struggling. That’s why I’ve tried so hard to make sure everything is done the right way. I just wanted you to do well so that you pass. You’re smart. It’s not fair for you to fail because of silly mistakes.”
You smiled at his words and said, “Thanks for watching out for me.”
After that, the two of you finished the few things that still had to be done, and your project was officially complete. Strangely enough, though, you really didn’t want to leave. If you’d finished the project a few weeks ago, you would have practically sprinted to get out of Jihoon’s dining room and never spoken to him again. Sitting at the familiar table, though, watching the way he smiled at you, you really didn’t want to leave.
You snapped out of your thoughts when Jihoon said, “Would you want to stay for a bit longer? You don’t have to, of course, I just thought-”
“That sounds great.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. What do you wanna do now?”
“We could watch a movie if you want.”
“What movie did you have in mind?”
Jihoon led you to his living room and pulled a box out from under the coffee table. You were a bit confused at first, but when you saw the countless DVDs that filled the box, you understood what was happening. He dug through the box for what felt like an eternity before he pulled one of them out and passed the case to you as he asked, “What do you think about this one?”
You read the summary on the back of the case and thought for a moment. Sure, the goofy comedy wasn’t necessarily your thing, but you didn’t care at that point. So, you smiled and said, “I think it sounds great,” passing the case back to Jihoon.
Jihoon put the box back under the coffee table, stood up from his spot, and put the DVD in the player that was hooked up to his TV. Then, he led you to the couch, and the two of you sat next to each other with smiles on your faces as the movie started to play.
While you and Jihoon watched the movie, you talked about whatever came to mind, both related to the movie and related to your lives outside of school. He told you about his lifelong interest in physics, and you told him about how badly you wanted to be a teacher when you grew up. With a smile on his face and a look in his eyes that you couldn’t quite identify, he said, “I think you’d be an amazing teacher.”
“Thanks. That means a lot to me.”
You weren't entirely sure what changed after the project was finished. All you knew was that seemingly in the blink of an eye, you and Jihoon were practically inseparable. You even hosted a joint graduation party after your senior year ended, which is where Jihoon gave you the nickname “star.” You tried to ask him why he wanted to call you “star” of all things, but he refused to tell you. You decided not to press further, though. After all, it was cute.
After graduating high school, you and Jihoon both went to a nearby community college to study education, with both of you planning to become teachers after getting your degrees. It was actually during your last year of college that you realized that your feelings for Jihoon weren’t strictly platonic anymore. You were slightly embarrassed by the realization, especially considering it took so long, but you couldn’t get too mad at yourself. After all, you were pretty sure that Jihoon felt the same way about you.
You found out for sure that Jihoon reciprocated your feelings on a night that you were least expecting it. You’d gone to a party that your mutual friend Junhui was hosting, expecting a night of fun with your friends. What you found instead was a cold reminder of how alone you truly felt. The music was so loud you couldn’t hear yourself think, no one paid any attention to you unless they were asking you where to find someone else, and you couldn’t find Jihoon anywhere. After about an hour of being too overwhelmed to function, you found an empty bathroom, locked yourself in, and cried until you could hardly breathe.
You snapped out of your thoughts when you heard a knock on the door and Jihoon’s voice hesitantly ask, “Is everything ok in there?”
“I’m fine,” you choked out, hoping desperately that he wouldn’t press further.
“Come on, star. What’s wrong?” the other person, who you now knew was Jihoon, asked.
“Nothing, Ji. I’m fine,” you mumbled, though you knew that he knew you were lying.
“Are you actively using the bathroom?” Jihoon asked hesitantly.
“No. Why?”
“Let me in.”
“Dude what the fuck?”
“I’m not leaving you alone to cry in a bathroom, star.”
“I’m not crying,” you choked out through your tears.
“You know as well as I do that’s bullshit. Can I come in?”
With a sigh, you unlocked the door and let Jihoon in. The small bathroom was cramped, with both of you uncomfortably close, but neither of you really cared. The moment the bathroom door was locked again, you threw your arms around your best friend’s neck and sobbed, too overwhelmed to even begin to try to explain how you were feeling. While you cried, he rubbed your back and mumbled soft reassurances, telling you that everything would be ok and that you weren’t alone as long as he had any say in the matter.
Eventually, your tears stopped, and he asked, “Do you feel better after getting it all out?”
You nodded and answered, “Yeah, I do. Thank you.”
Jihoon smiled at your answer and said, “How about we go back out there? I think there’s a line anyway.” You practically deflated at the suggestion, so he thought for a minute before he added, “Maybe we could find a sort-of secluded area outside?”
You smiled a little bit at that and said, “That sounds really nice.”
With that, Jihoon unlocked the bathroom door, took your hand, and led you outside to an unoccupied corner of Junhui’s backyard. You both sat down in the grass, laughing together when you stumbled, and you spent the rest of the night talking about anything and everything while the party around you seemed to fall away.
As you talked and laughed with Jihoon, you found yourself thinking about him once again in ways that you were certain that he didn’t think about you. Still, there was a hint of curiosity as to whether he liked anyone at all, considering you never heard him talk about anything but his classes and frustrations with his professors.
Figuring that nothing interesting would happen, you asked Jihoon, “So, do you like anyone right now?”
“Oh, well,” he began, clearly surprised by your question, “I mean there’s one person that I’m interested in. I don’t know if those feelings are reciprocated, though."
“Oh, who is it?” you asked, hoping not to seem too nosy.
A faint blush creeped up Jihoon’s cheeks, and a shy smile formed on his face as he tried to form the words to answer your question. It took a bit of time, but eventually he managed to say, “I don’t think you’d know them.”
“That’s ok. I’d still like to know if you’re comfortable sharing.”
Jihoon seemed to contemplate whether he should answer your question for an eternity before he mumbled something that you couldn’t quite hear. You asked him what he said, and he repeated, “It’s you.”
You were so surprised by his answer, you didn’t speak for what felt like several minutes. When you snapped out of your thoughts and noticed that Jihoon seemed upset, though, you smiled and said, “Hey, I’m sorry. You were probably worried about making me uncomfortable, right?” He nodded, and you said, “I like you too.”
With a shy smile on his face, Jihoon leaned closer to you and kissed your cheek before he said, “God, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”
“Should I say it again, then?” you asked, a teasing grin on your face as you admired the blush on Jihoon’s cheeks. He nodded, and you added, “I like you. A lot. I have for a long time.”
With slightly more confidence than he had before, Jihoon kissed you. As you kissed him back, he pulled you closer, with every movement full of love and care, almost like he was worried about hurting you still.
When he pulled away, he smiled and said, “Do you wanna come back to my place with me tonight?”
“That sounds nice,” you answered softly.
With that, you and Jihoon both stood, and you took his hand before he walked you back to his car. When you got there, he opened the door for you and let you get in, and you thanked him. Then he quickly got into the driver’s seat and took you back to his apartment.
When you got back to Jihoon’s apartment, the two of you stumbled inside, still talking and laughing about every little thing that came to mind. After your jacket and shoes were off, he led you to his room, offering you some of his clothes to sleep in. You both got changed, and you climbed into bed with him. Once you found a comfortable position, you fell asleep pretty much instantly, content with the events of the night and happy to have someone like Jihoon in your life.
One of the things about Jihoon that became abundantly clear over the course of your relationship with him was his desire to be the best. He took pride in the fact that he was at the top of your graduating class, and his drive every time he spoke about a difficult project made you fall even harder for him. Still, you were worried about him. After all, he could get obsessive in his desire to be the best, and your concern that he’d unintentionally hurt himself by pushing too hard only grew as your relationship developed.
You tried a handful of times to talk to Jihoon about your concerns, but every time, he gave you the same explanation about how he knew his limits and always took care of himself. You knew that wasn’t true, considering all the sleepless nights you’d held him through and the number of times you had to remind him to eat because he was so engrossed in a project, but you didn’t argue. Instead, you just said, “I love you. I just want you to be happy and healthy.”
“And I’m both of those things. I appreciate the concern, star, but I’m ok.”
“Ok, I trust you.”
While the stress of your final year of college did put some strain on your relationship, you came out the other side closer than ever. You loved Jihoon, and you knew that he loved you. He always treated you with the utmost respect, and while he was the more serious one compared to you, he also knew how to make you laugh and when you needed to laugh. You were happier than you ever thought you could be, and you were certain that it would last forever.
After you both earned your degrees, you got married in a small, intimate ceremony with your closest family and friends, celebrating the relationship that you’d built together over the years. Every moment of that day was perfect. Everyone that you cared about was present, the venue was everything you’d dreamed of since childhood, and you were marrying the man of your dreams. As you looked into Jihoon’s eyes and declared that you would love him for the rest of your life, no matter what, you felt like the luckiest woman in the world.
For years, you continued to feel like you were the luckiest woman on Earth. You were married to the love of your life, you lived in an apartment that you loved, and you had the job of your dreams. After graduating college, you’d gotten a job teaching advanced English at your former high school, and you loved every minute. Sure, a lot of your students were disrespectful and annoying, and there were some parents that just refused to cooperate with you when all you wanted was to help, but you still loved the work itself, which made everything worth it.
Around the same time that you got a job as an English teacher, Jihoon got a job at the same school teaching physics. You always teased him because he taught the same class that the two of you had met in as teenagers, but it was all out of love. You knew that your husband was passionate about science, and he loved to help others. Even when the two of you were students instead of teachers, he was always tutoring your classmates, getting excited every time that he helped someone understand a difficult concept.
The problem was that his obsession with being the best didn’t fade even a little bit as he settled into life as a teacher rather than a student. Instead, it actually grew more intense, with your husband spending nearly all of his free time that wasn’t spent with you finding ways to prove that he was “better” than the other teachers. Whether he was complaining about how limiting his lesson plans were or staying up far later than he should to try to figure out the best way to explain material that his students struggled with, his passion was obvious, but so was his disregard for nearly everything that didn’t center around work.
The only exception was you. No matter how engrossed he was in his work, he always made sure to make time for you. You had weekly date nights, he constantly surprised you with small gifts that he always said made him think of you, and he never took his work-related stress out on you. Every moment with Jihoon made you feel loved.
At least, until it didn’t.
A few years into your marriage, everything changed, and it all started with something that you didn’t expect. Well, you expected the event, but not its effects on your life and marriage. On a seemingly ordinary day, during the morning announcements, your boss, Dr. Yoon, said, "And last but not least, students, don't forget to cast your votes for the district's 'Teacher of the Year' award. My office will be open for an hour after school ends to vote, and voting ends in two weeks. Thank you, and have a wonderful day."
The announcements ended, and the rest of the day went on like normal until you and Jihoon went home together after work. The moment the car doors were shut, you asked, "Who do you think is gonna win the teacher of the year award?"
"Me, obviously," Jihoon answered, radiating confidence with every word. "I mean, I've won four years in a row."
"That's true. It's fun to wonder, though."
Jihoon mumbled under his breath, but you didn't push to find out what he said. You'd had a long day, and you just wanted to go home and spend some time with your husband. When you finally got home, though, he went right to his desk and got to work preparing materials for the next day’s lesson, seeming to forget you were even there. You considered saying something, but you decided against it, too tired to worry about anything but getting some sleep.
Two weeks came and went, and the day of the "Teacher of the Year" ceremony arrived. Jihoon was more confident than you'd seen him in months, and as the two of you walked into the auditorium, you were sure that nothing could ruin his mood.
Of course, you were proven wrong when Dr. Yoon stepped onto the stage after Vice Principal Hong's introduction.
"Welcome, everyone," your boss said, "to the 'Teacher of the Year' award ceremony. Before I announce our winner, I’d like to take a moment to thank all of our faculty for their contributions to this district. Never forget that all of you have had a positive impact on our students and changed their lives for the better, even if only one person can win this award."
Everyone in the auditorium clapped, and once the applause died down, Dr. Yoon continued, “Without further ado, our Teacher of the Year is Mr. Kwon!”
After more applause, Dr. Yoon went on about Mr. Kwon’s achievements as the school’s health and P.E. teacher, and the more you listened to your boss speak about the lengths your co-worker went to help his students succeed, the more strongly you felt that he deserved to be recognized for his effort to make real change.
Jihoon, however, disagreed, and he was livid that Mr. Kwon won the award. He spent the entire car ride home after the ceremony ranting about how Mr. Kwon wasn’t a real teacher and how he didn’t deserve the “great honor” of winning the award. But as he went on, it became increasingly obvious that it wasn't about Mr. Kwon or his teaching abilities at all. It was about the fact that someone other than him won.
You knew from the moment that the ceremony was announced that Jihoon wanted to win. He’d always wanted to be the best, and his method of measuring whether he was the best had always been validation from other people. You also knew that there were other ways to measure success, and you really wanted to help your husband.
You didn't manage to get a word in about any of that on the way home. Or after you got home, for that matter. But to be fair, after the tenth time Jihoon said, “I just don't understand why it was him,” you gave up on trying to reassure him and just went to bed.
Before the ceremony, you never went a day without feeling loved. In the weeks following the ceremony, however, Jihoon seemed fine with the fact that your relationship had taken a backseat to his work. You tried to be understanding when he cancelled dates or came home late from meetings with parents, but you would have been lying if you’d said that it didn’t hurt to feel so unimportant to your husband, especially so suddenly.
It started small. You’d had a horrible day at work, and during your lunch break, you texted Jihoon with a request.
You: Can we get takeout and watch a movie tonight? I’ve been so tired and just wanna relax with you after work.
Jihoon: Of course, love. I think that sounds wonderful. Where do you wanna get the food from?
You: Maybe that Thai restaurant that just opened?
Jihoon: Sounds good! What do you want? I’ll pick it up on my way home from my last parent conference tonight.
You looked at the restaurant’s menu online and told Jihoon what you wanted. He stopped replying to your messages after that, but you decided not to worry about it, since he frequently stopped responding to texts when he was busy. Besides, you didn’t need a text to confirm that your husband loved you.
After you finished work for the day, you texted Jihoon again to thank him for picking up dinner and went home. Once you were home, you immediately changed into your favorite pajamas and started looking through the DVD collection that you now shared with Jihoon. After deciding on a cozy romance movie, you cleaned your living room and put the movie in Jihoon’s old DVD player.
You waited for Jihoon to come home for almost an hour before you finally decided to cook dinner for yourself and watch the movie without him. At first, you were disappointed, since you were looking forward to the quality time with your husband. But as you got sucked into the plot of a movie, you forgot that he was even there, just enjoying the quiet time spent with your mind somewhere else.
When Jihoon finally came home about a half hour after the movie ended, he looked guilty. Before you could even ask him where the hell he’d been, he said, “I’m sorry. I was leaving the last parent conference and noticed Mr. Boo struggling to put new decorations up, so I offered to help. I know we had plans, but I couldn’t just leave him hanging like that.”
“You didn’t think to give me a heads up?” you asked, frustrated and hurt that he basically ignored you for hours on end. He said nothing in response, so you said, “Whatever. I’m going to bed early. Good night, Jihoon.”
“Good night, star,” he mumbled as you walked away.
After the movie night incident, things with Jihoon got slightly better. He still stayed late for additional parent conferences or to help a coworker, but now he at least remembered to tell you when he was staying late. Sure, you were still frustrated by how much more time he spent away from home, but you tried to tell yourself that everything would be ok.
The only problem with that was that even when he was home, he didn’t really acknowledge you. Sure, you knew that he was busy, but you didn’t understand why it was so hard to respond to a simple question like, “What do you want to have for dinner?” or “Can we talk about the plan for dinner with your parents this weekend?”
In the end, though, despite your frustrations, you tried to give him some grace and support his attempts to get better at his job. After all, he had hurt you, but he was still your husband, and you loved him more than you’d ever thought loving another person was possible.
You chose to keep it simple, buying him a cup of coffee on your way to work. You brought it to his classroom before the day began, and he smiled and said, “Thank you so much.”
“No problem, I love you.”
He didn’t say it back, simply turning his computer on and getting ready for the day. You wanted to be hurt and disappointed that the first time he spoke to you that day was thanking you for the coffee, but you refused to let yourself get upset at work. So, you walked back to your own classroom and got ready for another day of teaching.
At the end of the day, you considered trying to talk to Jihoon about how you felt about being ignored unless you were doing something for him, but you decided against it almost immediately. After all, you still wanted to hope that things would get better and that he’d stop caring so much about proving he was good at the job you knew he excelled in.
After the coffee incident, you tried to stay hopeful. After all, you wanted to believe that all the times Jihoon had forgotten you or treated you like you were unimportant were just a brief rough patch. Besides, when you spoke to him about going to your parents’ anniversary dinner, he seemed genuinely happy to go, and a small part of you dared to hope that he would actually start to balance work and the rest of his life better.
Your hope deflated like a sad balloon, however, when you recieved the following text an hour before the school day ended:
Jihoon: I’m so sorry, star, but I can’t make it tonight. Surprise science department meeting to go over last minute cirriculum changes for next year.
You: Are you serious?
Jihoon: I know, I’m sorry.
You: Whatever, it’s fine. I’ll talk to you tonight
With that, you went about the rest of your day, trying not to think about the situation with Jihoon. Sure, you understood that last minute commitments were part of life, but that didn’t change how you felt about it. You were frustrated with the teachers that were in charge of coordinating the meetings, and you were disappointed that once again, you were taking a backseat to work.
None of the family members that attended your parents’ anniversary dinner knew that, though. As far as they could tell, you and Jihoon were the same happy couple that you’d always been. In fact, you played the part so well that you almost believed it yourself, except for the little voice in the back of your head that cried out for a husband that still treated you like he loved you.
You finally decided that you were done being the only one fighting for your marriage on your tenth anniversary. It should have been a day to celebrate the love that you and Jihoon had for each other, but instead, he sat at his laptop revising lesson plans and emailing parents. Just like always, you'd tried to be understanding, but in return, you got a complete lack of acknowledgement unless he was asking you for more coffee.
The only exception, of course, was when he asked, “Star, would you be ok with it if we moved our date night?”
“What?” you asked, trying to keep your voice even.
“I know you were looking forward to dinner and the movies, but I've gotta completely redo my lesson plans because of those stupid revisions.”
“Can't this wait until summer break or something since, you know, it's for next year?”
“I wish, but Yoon has been up my ass about getting it done by the last day of school.”
You were pretty sure that wasn't true, considering Dr. Yoon was notoriously lax about deadlines, but you were too tired to fight about it. So, you sighed and said, “Sure, I'll cancel the date.”
“Thank you. I love you,” Jihoon said. You were quiet in response, so he loudly and playfully repeated, “I love you.” Again, you were silent, so he asked, “You're not gonna say it back?”
“Jihoon, I'm tired,” you answered, all of your attempts at being calm going out the window.
“That doesn't mean you can't tell me that you love me.”
“Well, to be honest, I don't think I do anymore.”
“You've gotta be joking,” Jihoon said, his voice holding a mixture of hurt and confusion.
“I'm not. I'm sick of taking a backseat to your work.”
“My work is important to me, and you know that,” Jihoon spat.
“Yes, I do, but I also remember when I was important to you.”
“Oh come on, you have to know that you’re important to me.”
“I used to, but not anymore.”
There was a moment of silence before Jihoon said, “I just want to do well at work. Why is that a problem?”
“That’s not the problem. The problem is that you treat me like I’m nothing to you unless I’m bringing you a fucking cup of coffee or telling you that I remembered to cancel our date like you asked.”
“That’s not-”
“Don’t you dare tell me it isn’t true,” you interrupted. “You just asked me to cancel our goddamn anniversary date because of a deadline we both know is bullshit.”
“Today is our anniversary?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Yes, it is," you answered coldly. “Whatever, I’m leaving.”
“Are you coming back?”
You didn't answer as you grabbed your purse and walked out.
The next morning, you came home from your parents’ house feeling more scared than you wanted to admit. You knew that you had to talk to Jihoon about it, but you really didn’t want to. After all, it made the decision to walk away finally feel real, and you were afraid that if you acknowledged the pain, it would consume you.
When you finally made yourself open the door, Jihoon was sitting at the table with papers in his hands, tears streaming down his face. Before you could say anything, he said, “We have a prenup, and there are no kids to worry about, so it should be quick and painless. I’m not gonna fight you on it. I know I haven’t been a good husband.”
You briefly considered making a comment about how the painless part felt like a cruel joke. How everything about the end of your marriage was painful. How the pain was eating away at you and how you would have given anything to not feel it all. But instead, you just sighed and said, “Thank you for the last ten years. I’m sorry it had to end this way.” There was a moment of silence before you said, “Last night I made arrangements to stay with my sister until everything is settled.”
“That’s good.” There was a moment of silence before Jihoon asked, “So, this is it, then?”
“I think so,” you answered.
The divorce was in fact quick, with you and Jihoon coming to an agreement on how to split shared property in far less time than you expected. You were correct about the process being painless, but you were incredibly relieved when it was all over.
The months following your divorce came and went, and it was time for the “Teacher of the Year” award to be given again. You didn’t pay any attention to conversations about it or the speculation about who it would be, though, far too focused on managing your own life to even try, but just like you always did, you still attended the ceremony.
After an introduction that you didn’t pay attention to, Dr. Yoon said Jihoon’s name, and suddenly you were hanging onto every word. You listened as your boss praised your ex husband’s dedication to his job and how every moment of it paid off, and it was all you could do to stay in your seat and stop yourself from crying.
After the ceremony, you went right home, wondering if Jihoon was happy with himself. After all, he got exactly what he wanted, but this time, you wouldn’t be there to celebrate with him.
Thank you everyone for reading! If you liked this one, please make sure to like and reblog!
If you wanna check out my other works, my masterlist can be found here. If you wanna see what I'm working on, my upcoming works list is here. If you'd like to be tagged whenever I upload a new fic, my taglist form is here! You can also send me an ask or dm at any time to be added or removed.
Thank you again for reading, and have a wonderful day!
If you are receiving this transmission, communication networks are still operational.
For centuries, it slept beneath the earth— but then someone dug a little too deep.
What should have remained buried has awakened, and with it, the beginning of humanity’s greatest fight for survival. The infection is spreading, civilisation is crumbling, and every choice could mean the difference between life and death. Will you endure the outbreak... or become part of it?
The Awakening is now accepting survivors.
The emergency broadcast cuts out. A new transmission begins...
🦠 WHAT IS THE AWAKENING?
The Awakening is Do Re Reef’s Halloween 2026 event.
Every participating writer will create a story set within the same original zombie apocalypse universe provided by Do Re Reef, following shared lore while telling their own unique story. Some characters may cross paths and others may only hear whispers of one another. Together, every fic will become part of a larger world.
Readers can join too by recommending zombie themed SEVENTEEN fics to help us build a community masterlist celebrating the genre.
Both readers and writers have the option to also create moodboards inspired by the event or collaborate with a participating writer to make one for their fic. Any collaborations should be arranged between participants themselves.
Decrypting recovered files...
🧬 OUTBREAK FILE
It’s so easy to make a mistake, to lose focus for a split second and to ruin something previously so beautiful.
Though, there is an argument to be made that humanity, although resilient and with a collection of positives, can struggle to keep hold of its beauty when the world grows deeper into ruin as the days pass.
Perhaps, when you think of it in that way, this particular mistake was for the best. This particular mistake has given humanity no choice but to return to its roots; to return to nature and give the world time to heal.
Of course, you have to ignore the blood spilled, the bodies bitten, and lives overtaken. In the grand scheme of things, it’s a small price to pay to allow nature to reclaim the earth and the natural order of things.
Then again, is greener grass and brighter flowers worth the blood spilled to allow the growth? Is the cleaner air a fair exchange for less living roaming the streets?
There’s a balance to the world, at least, there should be, but a mistake can tip the scales, and it’s not quite so clear cut as to whether that’s a good or bad thing.
It’s all a matter of perspective, really. It’s down to you to decide how this story goes; if one can flourish or flounder when faced by once-humans mindlessly clawing and gnawing, controlled by the ancient parasite burrowed in their brain stem with the sole purpose of further infecting humanity one bite at a time.
Can humanity overcome this mistake and claim back their world before it’s too late?
It’s time to find out.
⏲ Receive your assigned member, gain access to the event lore, and write your own story within The Awakening universe.
⏲ Every story is unique, but every story contributes to the same outbreak.
⏲ Optional: Writers may also create moodboards inspired by the event or collaborate with a writer to make one for their story. Any collaborations should be arranged between participants themselves.
⏲ All event fics and moodboards will be reblogged by Do Re Reef and will be added to the event masterlist.
🧟♂️ Readers
⏲ Recommend existing zombie themed SEVENTEEN fics to be included in the event masterlist.
⏲ Recommendations don’t need to be stories you’ve personally read as long as the summary, tags, or description clearly fit the setting, they’re welcome.
The recommended story doesn’t need to focus directly on zombies— survival, relationships, or everyday life during the outbreak all fit the theme.
⏲ Optional: Readers may also create moodboards inspired by the event or collaborate with a writer to make one for their story. Any collaborations should be arranged between participants themselves.
⏲ Recommendations and moodboards will also be featured on the event masterlist, with moodboards also being reblogged by Do Re Reef.
Time is running out. Here’s what we know.
📅 OUTBREAK TIMELINE
Event Runs: 23rd July – 31st October
Sign-ups Close: 6th August
Drop-out deadline: 17th September
𓉸 Assignments are first come, first served. If another participant has already selected your preferred SEVENTEEN member, you’ll be asked to choose another. There are only 13 writer spaces available, so don’t hesitate or you may lose your chance.
Survival depends on more than luck. Read these protocols carefully.
☣️ SURVIVAL PROTOCOLS
Participation is exclusive to Do Re Reef members. If you’re joining from Tumblr and not a member already, you’ll need to complete the network application before your event sign-up can be accepted.
Writers will each be assigned 1 SEVENTEEN member on a first come, first served basis. There are 13 writer slots available.
All stories must take place within The Awakening shared universe and follow the event lore provided in the server.
Participants are expected to meet the event deadlines. Please only sign up if you believe you can complete your chosen role.
Minimum word count is 3k words; there is no maximum word count. Multi part stories are welcome, but part one must be at least 3k words and posted by the event deadline.
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Permanent death of any SEVENTEEN member (or other real life idol portrayed in the story) is not permitted. Temporary death, ghost AUs, undead portrayals, and other alternate forms are welcome.
Because every story exists within the same shared universe, writers may occasionally need to coordinate with one another if their stories intersect.
Full writing guidelines, content rules, posting requirements, event resources and others will be available in the private event channels after participants receive the event role.
If you’re still here, then maybe you’re willing to fight.
📋 ENLISTMENT
Think you have what it takes to survive?
Complete the application below to join The Awakening as a writer, a reader, or both.
➜ Sign up here.
Please note that participation is exclusive to Do Re Reef members. If you’re not already part of the network, you’ll need to join and complete the verification process to gain membership before your event application can be accepted. To join the Do Re Reef, please fill out the form in this post.
Further information, including the complete lore, event guidelines, assignments, and discussion channels and threads, will become available within the private event category after participants receive the event role.
No one knows how this ends. The only question left is whether your story will be remembered after the awakening.
We wish you luck, survivor.
You're going to need it.
Word Count: 843
Genre: Smut, Fluff
AU: Non idol AU
Tropes: Friends with benefits to lovers
Rating: Explicit, MINORS DNI!
Warnings: Smut (Unprotected sex, teasing, creampie, Yushi is a little shit). If you think I missed something though, please let me know!
Summary: Your relationship with Yushi goes in a new direction following a passionate night.
Nets: @winerys-collection, @mnemosynesjournal
A/N: This fic was an anonymous request that sat in my inbox for far too long. Sorry about that! I hope that you like this one, whether you were the person that requested it or not.
Shoutout to @effervescentorbs for being a sounding board while I was planning, and shout out to @1-800-jewon for the advice on writing the smut! I love y'all.
Taglist: @xomakara, @chugging-antiseptic-dye, @notyourjaem, @shadowkoo
Send me an ask or dm to be added or removed!
Fic is under the cut.
Just like every other party, Yushi went home with you. Truthfully, you had no idea how it happened this time. All you knew was that you loved watching him squirm as you moved your hand up and down his thigh while you drove. You could tell he was trying to maintain his composure until the two of you got back to his apartment, and you were proud of the fact that your actions had such a strong effect on him.
When you got back to your apartment building, you held his hand as the two of you walked up the stairs, and somehow that felt even more intimate than your actions in the car. It made you wonder if there really was a chance of the way you felt about him leading to more than just sex. Usually, you wouldn't have entertained the thought, but something about the way his hand felt in yours made you wonder this time.
Once you were through the door, Yushi pulled your dress off and pinned you to the door as he said, “You looked so fucking pretty in this dress, made me wanna tear it off right in the middle of the party.”
You stifled a moan as he attached his lips to your neck and said, “That’s why I wore it. Wanted you to look at me like that.”
He stopped kissing and biting just long enough to say, “Well you got exactly what you wanted. Couldn’t stop staring all night.”
“Then do something about it,” you said, enjoying his desperation.
“Wanna tease you first.”
You gave him an exaggerated pout and asked, “But why?”
“Cause you're so cute when you're desperate, baby,” he answered as he started to tease you over your underwear. A quiet whine slipped out of your mouth, and he added, “See? So fucking cute.”
“Fuck you,” you said in between whimpers.
“Well, if you insist,” Yushi replied with a soft laugh as he finally moved away from the door.
Without another word, you practically dragged Yushi to your room and finally got rid of the rest of your clothes while you watched him undress. Once your clothes were out of the way, you pushed him onto your bed and slowly lowered yourself onto his cock, already struggling to maintain your composure as you adjusted to how he felt inside you.
“Feels so good,” you whined as you moved against him.
“Fuck, I know, princess. Love the way you ride me.”
As you bounced on his cock, the room got surprisingly quiet. Typically, when you had sex with Yushi, it was loud and messy. But this time, both of you were too focused on how it actually to perform for each other the way you usually did.
Occasionally, Yushi would whisper, “Just like that, baby” or “Feels so good,” and all you could think about was how beautiful he looked when he was lost in pleasure.
As your high approached, you tried to warn Yushi like you usually did, but when you opened your mouth to speak, a loud moan slipped out instead. You held him close while you fell apart on top of him, and the sounds that came out as he came inside you could only be described as whines.
Neither of you said anything while you caught your breath, with both of you lost in your own worlds. While you continued to hold him close, you thought about how badly you didn't want him to leave and how badly you wanted more than sex.
After you calmed down, you carefully climbed off of Yushi, and both of you worked together to clean up. Then, you brought him some of the spare clothes that he kept at your place for nights just like this. As you both got dressed, you caught him staring at you, and the butterflies in your stomach that you’d tried to convince yourself didn’t exist came fluttering back to remind you of how you felt about Yushi.
A slightly awkward silence settled over the room after you were both dressed, and you broke it by asking, “Do you wanna stay tonight?”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, why?” you asked, confused by his reaction.
“You don’t usually ask me to stay.”
“Well, I always want you to,” you mumbled.
“I’m happy to, for the record,” Yushi answered, seeming to notice how nervous you felt. After another moment of silence, he asked, “Do you wanna cuddle for a bit?”
“Yeah, that sounds nice,” you answered, getting back into bed and finally relaxing as Yushi followed suit and put his arms around you.
“You know, this is always my favorite part,” Yushi whispered before kissing your forehead.
“What do you mean?”
“Holding you close, reminding you how much I care even when we’re not fucking.”
“It means a lot to me, you know.”
“Well, you mean a lot to me.” Yushi was quiet for a minute before he added, “Do you maybe wanna go on a real date sometime?”
“Yeah, that sounds great,” you answered before kissing him softly.
Thank you everyone for reading! If you liked this one, please make sure to like and reblog!
If you wanna check out my other works, my masterlist can be found here. If you wanna see what I'm working on, my upcoming works list is here. If you'd like to be tagged whenever I upload a new fic, my taglist form is here! You can also send me an ask or dm at any time to be added or removed.
Thank you again for reading, and have a wonderful day!
Word Count: 837
Genre: Fluff
AU: Non idol AU
Tropes: Established relationship
Rating: PG-13, but I still ask that MINORS DNI!
Warnings: One suggestive joke. If you think I missed something though, please let me know!
Summary: Your wedding is everything you wanted it to be and more with Kuanjui by your side.
Nets: @winerys-collection, @mnemosynesjournal
A/N: I can't wait to hear what you guys think of this one. Shout out to @themoonlightfae for listening to me yell about this fic, and thank you to my love @effervescentorbs for giving me feedback on the banner! I love y'all so much.
Taglist: @xomakara, @chugging-antiseptic-dye
Send me an ask or dm to be added or removed!
Fic is under the cut.
The day that you moved in with Kuanjui, he promised you that the two of you would be married within two years. You honestly had no idea if you believed him at the time, considering the fact that you'd never known him to be good at doing things within a specific time frame. But now, standingoutside of the hall where everyone you loved was waiting for you to walk down the aisle, you realized how foolish you were to doubt him. After all, when it mattered, he always kept his word.
Your bridesmaids entered the venue before you did, signaling to everyone that the ceremony was starting. As they walked toward the altar, your favorite song played from a small speaker at the front of the room. It was a soft, romantic ballad that you felt captured your relationship with Kuanjui perfectly, and as the time for your entrance came, you silently hoped your makeup wouldn’t be ruined by the tears that threatened to fall.
When the time for you to enter finally came, you carefully stepped into the room, eyes locked on Kuanjui to keep you grounded as you walked toward the beginning of the rest of your lives together. Once you were standing in front of him, he leaned closer and whispered, “Are you ready?”
“How could I not be?”
With a smile, you turned toward the officiant, and he went on for far longer than you wanted about the beauty of marriage and the importance of having someone in your corner. Sure, it was a beautiful speech, but you got more and more impatient with every word. You really just wanted to get to the part where you could declare your undying love and exchange the rings. So, while you waited, you fantasized about the rest of your life with Kuanjui.
Your focus was quickly pulled back, however, when it was finally time for the vows and exchanging of rings. Kuanjui read his first, and when he took your hand, a feeling settled in the pit of your stomach that told you that you were exactly where you were supposed to be.
With a smile, he said your name and began, “When we moved in together, I promised you that we would be married within two years. Now, a year later, we’re exactly where I promised you we’d be. I hope that just goes to show that I do know how to get things done.” You laughed softly, and he continued, “Now, as we walk into marriage together, I promise to love and protect you for the rest of my life. I promise to always act with your best interests in mind, and I promise that you will always have a safe place to come home to for as long as I have a say in the matter. I love you.” Then, with his eyes shining, he gently slid your ring onto your finger.
When Kuanjui finished his vows, the officiant turned to you, and you cleared your throat before you said, “Kuanjui, you’ve been my rock for four years now, and I can only hope that I’ve been able to support you in the same way over the course of our relationship.” You started to tear up as you spoke, so you took a moment to breathe before you said, “It’s been an honor to love you, and I swear that I will continue to love you with everything I have for as long as I live.” After you finished speaking, you carefully put Kuanjui’s ring on his finger and said, “I love you.”
By that point, both you and Kuanjui had started to cry, your makeup and his smudging as the two of you struggled to catch your breath. Once both of you collected yourselves, however, the officiant said, “Now that you’ve exchanged vows and rings, it is with great joy that I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
The first time you kissed Kuanjui as a married couple felt like magic. You got so lost in the way his lips felt on yours, in fact, that you almost forgot that you still had the rest of the wedding to go to. You were swiftly reminded, however, when you heard your friend Haru yell, “Get a room!”
When you pulled away, you looked into Kuanjui’s eyes and saw a combination of love and awe that you swore you’d never seen before, as you took his hand to walk out of the hall, you hoped that he’d keep looking at you just like that for the rest of your life.
As you made your way to the area of the venue reserved for the cocktail hour and reception, you laughed and said, “I can’t believe we’re married now.”
“Why is it such a shock? I told you I would marry you, didn’t I?”
“Well, yeah, but-”
“No buts, my love. You should know by now that I always keep my promises.” he said as he softly kissed your forehead.
Thank you everyone for reading! If you liked this one, please make sure to like and reblog!
If you wanna check out my other works, my masterlist can be found here. If you wanna see what I'm working on, my upcoming works list is here. If you'd like to be tagged whenever I upload a new fic, my taglist form is here! You can also send me an ask or dm at any time to be added or removed.
Thank you again for reading, and have a wonderful day!
🌕Who: Wen Junhui (Seventeen) x female reader
🌕What: Some angst. Some dark themes (check warnings). Fluff. Supernatural au. Co-workers to Lovers. Detective Junhui. Werewolf Junhui. Private Investigator reader. Human reader. 18+
🌕Word count: 10.6k
🌕Warnings: Mentions, not depictions of: murder, injury, blood, etc. Profanity. Junhui’s naked ass (in the post-shift way, not sexual way). Perceived threat: werewolf hunting/ stalking/ predator-prey things. Assumed unreciprocated feelings. There’s nothing explicit or even particularly suggestive in this, I just don’t want minors interacting with this story at all.
🌕Summary:
Although you’ve been working closely with Junhui for five years, you’ve never seen him in wolfskin, and you honestly never thought you would. You spend most of the time irritating the man for your own amusement, so you’d never expect him to willingly show you his other side.
It’s not really surprising that when you finally see the detective’s wolf form, it’s not out of choice but during a full moon when he can’t prevent the transformation, the one time you’re truly in danger of the man turning around and biting a chunk out of you. And honestly, you think you probably deserve it at this point.
It’s just a shame you never got to kiss his pretty face.
Minors do NOT interact. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in their bio, or for any of the reasons listed in this post, including blank blogs and blogs without any fics reblogged.
Masterlist
A/N- thank you @lovetaroandtaemin for your support with this! 💗
If there’s one thing that well and truly gives you joy in life, it’s pissing off Detective Wen Junhui.
Honestly, at first, it wasn’t intentional. You didn’t mean to accept so many jobs as a Private Investigator which put you right in the Detective’s vicinity so much. You didn’t mean to almost consistently take on jobs that had you stepping on his toes. You just accepted the jobs that seemed interesting to you and did the best you could; even if that meant pointing out things the man missed when you happened to be at the same place, working on the same case, yet answering to different bosses.
But then, when you realised how cute Junhui looks trying to keep his cool, how easily he flusters and loses his ability to string an intelligent sentence together when you turn up and push his buttons just right, well, you couldn’t really help but push at every chance.
Admittedly, you don’t even pay attention to the job sometimes; you read the requests just enough to get the general idea of the job, so that you can figure out if it will be a case that gets dropped on the desk of Detective Wen Junhui to handle or not. Then, once the investigation begins, you spend most of the time bouncing along close to the tall, handsome detective’s side with a pleased grin on your face as you watch him try to pretend that he’s not trying his damndest to keep his composure. His clenched jaw sure is pretty from that angle too, so that’s a nice little bonus of following him like an irritating shadow.
That being said, you never shirk your duties. Every case you take on, you do, in fact, solve; often in collaboration with Junhui. As much as he obviously wishes otherwise, the two of you make an incredible team despite not being colleagues— not when humans aren’t allowed to become cops due to how fragile they are compared to supernatural beings; you know you would’ve made a great cop otherwise.
In fact, you both have better success rates, close more cases, when you’re side by side than apart. At this point, you’re pretty much an honorary cop, and Junhui has clearly been told by his superiors to play nice with you so that fewer crimes remain unsolved— or, at least, get solved quicker.
With your entire heart, you can say that even without getting the chance to watch the tall werewolf try to not snap at you— no pun intended— on an almost daily basis, you would love your job. But getting to watch Junhui’s eyes flicker gold in that moment before he turns away from you is truly the icing on the cake.
It’s just another job, just another day of you and Wen Junhui working side by side to investigate a foul, pathetic excuse of a life form, when things get a little different.
In all you’ve worked together, in all the danger you’ve been in and fought off together, you’ve never been led into a trap like this.
The little, abandoned, underground convenience store you’re in suddenly turns dark with the clunk of a shutter closing. Even with his advanced hearing and speed, Junhui doesn’t manage to notice or move fast enough to stop it from happening; his extended hands meet the metal just as the edge hits the cracked tile flooring below.
“Well, that’s new,” you muse from where you remain in place, knowing that you don’t have a chance in hell of navigating the space without your sight considering all the stuff strewn over the tiled floor; rubbish, debris, and other disgusting items you truly don’t want to get a closer look at.
Junhui doesn’t respond, and you honestly don’t expect him to, but you do hear him huff out an extra frustrated grunt where he’s already trying to physically yank the shutter up, despite the fact that you both know store shutters are made to withstand supernatural strength.
For a few minutes, Junhui incessantly yanks and hits at the metal in his attempts to remove it. At best, all he does is make a tiny dent along the bottom edge, just enough to let a small amount of light filter in. It’s not enough to do much but let you see his feet moving around, but you still stare at it; naturally drawn to whatever allows your simple, human eyesight to function.
“Given up?” you question when the clanging stops and Junhui stumbles back a few steps. He doesn’t answer, but you do hear him let out an almost pained sounding gasp before there’s a thud of what sounds like someone dropping to their knees. “Junhui?” You’ve barely shuffled a few steps forward before he lets out a desperate sounding noise, and there’s another clank of metal as if something has hit it heavily.
“Stay back!” he demands harshly, in such a pained tone that you fall still in shock.
“Are you hurt?” you ask quietly, worried. For all you love to piss off the man, you can admit that you do care for him, quite a lot really.
It’s probably something like little boys pulling the pigtails of the girl they like on the playground, the way you treat Junhui. You like him, more than you’ve ever admitted to anyone, even yourself, and you don’t know how to handle that when he’s evidently far from open to even the mere whisper of a thought of liking you. The man doesn’t even like you as a friend, as an acquaintance; there’s no way he’d ever consider opening his heart to you in a romantic manner. You’ve known that since the start, so you’ve done what you can to shield your own heart, while still annoying him enough that he can’t ignore you or forget that you exist.
“No,” Junhui answers after a moment, though it doesn’t sound truthful; he sounds strained in a way you haven’t heard him before, not even when he got shot with a silver bullet almost two years ago now. You’re not sure he knows it, but you barely left his side for the week he laid unconscious in hospital, too scared that he wasn’t going to pull through.
“Jun–” you start, tone turning a little stern to try and convince him to be honest, though as soon as you try to move from your spot to approach, he growls, and you fall still as your heart races with sudden fear.
In all you’ve taunted the man, in all you’ve pissed him off, he has never growled at you like this. Sure, you’ve heard him growl, he does it quite a lot really, but it’s never laced with such violence, such dark warning. For the first time in the five years you’ve known the man, you’re scared of him.
You’ve always known that really, Junhui could rip your throat out, tear you limb from limb without even breaking a sweat. He’s a werewolf and you a mere human; he’s got all the upper hands where strength, speed, agility, and healing abilities are concerned. But he’s never truly lost his cool with you. He’s never even looked like he would raise a hand at you, doesn’t even drop empty threats your way. For all you piss him off, Junhui is still a gentleman at heart, and has such control over himself that you’ve always instinctively known he won’t hurt you.
Yet now, now you’re questioning that.
“I fucking said stay back!” he bellows, making you jolt at the volume of his harsh words, and stumble back a few steps; tripping over something on the floor, and landing on your ass harshly. “Shit, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he rushes out, genuinely apologetic, and tone so drastically different to only seconds before that your head spins.
“What’s going on?” is all you can manage to ask as you blindly kick aside the items surrounding you where you remain on the tiles, deciding that you might as well sit down and wait until one of your colleagues realise that neither of you have checked in lately, and come to your rescue. Or whoever trapped you in here comes back to kill you, whatever happens first.
Though, you’re pretty confident that Junhui could easily take who you assume is the man you’ve been hunting down together; a fledgling vampire who hasn’t even cut his gums based on his previous victims. A pureblood werewolf will always trump a turned vampire; unless the werewolf is still just a pup and the turned vampire has at least half a century behind them. And as Junhui is a 30-year-old pureblood werewolf borne of centuries of strong werewolves, and the suspect has to have been turned into a vampire within the last six months to not even have his fangs in yet, Junhui would easily win in that fight and save both of your asses.
“Have you seriously not learned to pay attention to the fucking lunar calendar yet?” he grunts, and the metal creaks as you assume he shuffles where he’s leaning against it on the floor. A shadow flickers, so you glance at the patch of dim moonlight on the tiles only to find Junhui’s hands hovering in it, claws extended.
“It’s a full moon,” you realise, some of that fear trickling back into your body, especially when Junhui hums in confirmation and pulls his hand back out of sight, out of where you can see it and know his position. You know that if it comes down to it, Junhui could easily move so quietly that your human ears wouldn’t hear him; and with your lack of vision due to the darkness right now, you wouldn’t even know about it until his claws are buried in your flesh.
Although werewolves generally have their shifts under control and legally aren’t allowed to be out on full moons without having proven that they have the restraint to not let their instincts take over and send them on a murder rampage, you know that it doesn’t mean a lot in the first few minutes of a forced shift. And under the full moon, all werewolves have no choice but to shift into wolfskin when the moon is at the highest point in the night sky. Even if they can’t see the moon, they can’t fight the shift.
Considering the fact that you regularly go out of your way to piss Wen Junhui off, you know that tonight, your life is in real danger. As soon as he is forced out of his human form and into his wolf one, as soon as he loses himself, all that carefully controlled frustration and anger he holds for you will so easily lead his baser instincts.
“Shit,” you mutter, and he hums. “How long?”
“An hour, maybe.”
“Why did you even come down here when you knew how close the full moon is?!” you ask utterly baffled.
“Because you would’ve come alone otherwise, stubborn asshole,” he grumbles. “I’m not being responsible for a fledgling slitting your throat and draining you.”
“So, instead, you’re going to do it.” You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest and rolling your eyes, well aware that the man can see perfectly clearly in the dark so will know what your reaction is.
“I didn’t expect this!” he defends sharply. “I–I didn’t think we’d get trapped like this,” his voice softens again, turns guilty, worried. “I’m sorry, I…I’m really fucking sorry.”
You sigh and let your arms unfold, dropping them to your sides. “It is what it is. After all I’ve pissed you off, I probably deserve to have my leg chewed on,” you joke softly, trying to lift the mood a little.
It works, Junhui huffs a laugh. “Pretty sure it’s not just your leg I’d chew on,” he muses.
“Have you done that before?”
“Bitten someone on the leg?”
“Mm, and in general.”
“Yeah. Never a human though, never someone that can’t easily heal from it.”
You’re quiet for a moment as you consider his words, features pinched as you think about it. “I can’t tell if that’s a kinky sex thing or not,” you admit, and Junhui chokes out a laugh. “No? Yes? Come on, tell me all about werewolf sex; this may be the only chance I get to find out!” you enthuse.
“Please don’t remind me that I’m going to lose control soon,” he whispers, pleads.
“I didn’t mean like that. I just meant I don’t exactly know any other werewolves well enough to ask; and funnily enough, they keep away from me in general anyway. Do I smell weird or something to werewolves, by the way? I’ve always mean to ask you but get distracted and forget.”
“No.”
“No? I don’t smell weird?” He makes a noise of confirmation. “Then why do werewolves specifically avoid me so much?”
“Uhm… just…probably smell me on you,” he admits quietly, awkwardly. “Because we spend so much time together for work that you smell like me; so I guess they think you’re claimed.”
“So you’re the reason I’m not getting any kinky werewolf sex!” you exclaim, going for theatrically displeased, but it can’t land right because Junhui growls softly in warning. “Alright, damn, down boy,” you mutter. “I’m just fucking around.”
“Sorry, it’s the moon.” You don’t fully believe him, something in his tone doesn’t sound entirely truthful, but you just hum and leave the topic there, not wanting to get into it and risk setting him off.
For a couple of minutes, the two of you are quiet. There’s a tenseness to it, the impending violence hanging over your heads in a way neither of you can ignore, but you also can’t do a thing about it. It’s a reluctant acceptance you share, but something makes you think Junhui’s having more trouble than you accepting it. Then again, if you knew you were about to lose control and tear apart an innocent person, you would also not want to accept it and feel the guilt weighing heavy even before the act occurs, regardless of how much said person pisses you off on an almost daily basis.
“To your right, there’s a pole, it looks like a broken stand of some kind,” Junhui’s naturally gentle tone breaks the silence, making you jerk a little in surprise, before automatically looking to your right as if you can see it. Of course, all you see is darkness. “Reach out, I’ll guide you.”
“Why?”
“Because it may be the only hope you have of getting out of this,” he reasons with a slight tremble in his voice. You can’t tell if it’s the thought of what is going to happen, his fear causing the shakiness, or if it’s the effects of the moon getting higher, closer to its peak. “Just– Please do as I say. I know you don’t like me, but just–”
“I have literally never said that,” you say, sharp as you cut him off and turn a stern look on him. At least, where you think he is; you have no way to know for sure.
Junhui hesitates before responding, as if he’s truly stumped by your words. “You don’t hate me?” he mumbles, barely audible as if he can hardly get the words out.
“What? Hate you? No way! I don’t think anyone is capable of hating you, Jun,” you retort with a scoff. “Seriously, I think even the people you arrest don’t hate you.”
“Pretty sure they do.” He chuckles.
“Well, you thought I hate you, so I don’t think your judgement here is accurate or valid.”
“In my defence, you’ve been finding every single way to annoy me for the past five years. It’s hard to think you don’t think negatively of me,” he reasons, and well, he’s got a point there.
“And in my defence, you started it.”
“How?!”
“You refused to work with me when we met, treated me as lesser because I’m a PI. If I could be a cop, I would be; it’s not my fault it’s literally illegal.”
“That’s not what I was doing at all.”
“Really?” You give him a disbelieving look that you know he can so easily see and feel the full force of— even if you happen to be glaring at the shutter over his shoulder and not directly at him, though you’re not aware of that little fact. “I distinctly remember you saying I’m not working with someone like her, the first time you were told to work with me.”
“I didn’t mean because you’re a PI.”
“No? Then what?” In the awkward silence that follows, the guilty silence, you understand. “It’s because I’m human.” Junhui sighs, and you know you’re right. “Well, fuck you, Wen Junhui! How fucking dare you look down on me because of how I was born! You’re not automatically better than me just because you’re a werewolf, so get the fuck down from your pedestal and give me the respect I deserve.”
“No, no, no,” he says quickly. “It’s not like that at all. I don’t think of humans as a lesser species. All species are equal as far as I’m concerned.” He sounds like he’s being truthful, but you don’t remove your hard expression, not able to accept his words when you really don’t know what else his issue could be. “I wasn’t refusing because I think I’m superior in anyway. Even back then, I knew you’re so smart; I had been hearing your name and praise for months before we even met and you had just started your PI career.”
Your posture unravels; expression softens to something surprised yet puzzled. “Then what was your issue?”
“You’re so fragile,” he points out, sounding almost pained to say the words, like he hates them. “I know you can hold your own against humans, you have the awards to prove that, but supernatural beings? You’re so fragile against the majority of the assholes we have to hunt down and bring to justice that I was scared I’d have to watch you die on a job one day. I’m still scared of that, terrified really. If I don’t keep a close eye on you, then they could get to you so quickly that you won’t know until you’re heading to the afterlife.”
“Oh…” You’re not sure what to say in response. Part of you wants to argue and say that he doesn’t have to worry about that. It’s not his job to worry about you; you’re not even real partners despite how often you work together and call one another your partner during work hours. But the other part of you knows he’s right. You’re so delicate compared to supernatural beings and are constantly at risk just by dedicating your life to trying to protect innocents by bringing foul beings to justice where you can. It doesn’t help how sore Junhui sounds; how it truly sounds like the thought of watching you die hurts him deeply, especially if he should’ve been there to protect you.
“Yes, so, I don’t have anything against you at all. I…think you’re a wonderful person; so intelligent and caring that it’s easy to see why you’re one of the highest sought-after PIs in the city. All the humans ask for you; it’s why I get assigned so many human-related cases, because I work with you.”
“Oh…I didn’t realise,” you admit, feeling kind of stupid for not realising that the majority of the cases Junhui picks up to work are human related. You’re so used to working primarily for humans that you forget that humans are the minority, so Junhui should actually have a lot more cases relating to supernatural beings like himself.
“Mm.”
The pair of you are quiet for a few moments as everything shared between you settles, as you both realise that maybe, you’ve both been seeing your relationship in the wrong light from the start, all because of a lack of communication and jumping to conclusions that don’t even exist between you. It makes you wonder that if you’re wrong about Junhui disliking you from the start, maybe you’re wrong about him not wanting to be friends, wrong about the assumption that he’ll never see you as a potential romantic partner one day.
It’s a cruel kind of irony that the day that hope first flutters in your heart for the man potentially gaining feelings for you in the future, is also the day he’s about to rip that very heart from your chest through no choice of his own.
A series of bitten back, pained grunts breaks the contemplative quiet. Your attention turns entirely to the present, to Junhui trying his best to fight his very nature in an attempt to protect you for a little longer.
Suddenly, you find yourself unable to keep your feelings to yourself, sensing that any minute now, you’ll be trapped with an unwilling wolf, so this may be your only chance to be honest for the first time with your affection. “Junhui, I–” you start, only for a pained yell and the crack of bones to cut you off.
Instinctively, you back up a little, your human nature wanting to escape the horrifying sound of a body being forced to break and regrow into another form. It’s truly the worst sound you’ve ever heard, and you’ve heard a lot. But perhaps, it’s more painful and gut wrenching for you to hear because you know that it’s Junhui being forced through the ordeal; the man you were on the brink of confessing the contents of your heart to.
You’ve lost your chance now, and it only takes moments, not even a full minute, for you to lose the man you’ve grown so accustomed to over the past five years.
There’s an eerie couple seconds of silence once the transformation is over; you can’t even hear Junhui’s wolf form breathing, can’t hear him moving despite the fact you know he must be. You know from research and witness accounts— and even some personal accounts from the mouths of werewolves—, that they are always so restless as soon as the full moon shift has fully taken hold and they’re in wolfskin. You know that the harder the fight it, the harder it is for them to settle upon losing the battle. Junhui should be more than just a little restless right now, unable to stay still, especially when faced with the one person who has been pissing him off for the past five years.
Although you know that he could easily move without you knowing— and had assumed he’s been doing just that—, you hear the pad of paws ahead of you, right by the shutter where Junhui last spoke to you from. Your ears prickle hotly and then zero in on the sound, tracking the almost too heavy steps, the gentle clink of claws against tile, as he moves. You want to turn to your left to try and make sure that you remain face on to him; so that, at the very least, he doesn’t attack from behind because that is somehow much scarier. Yet you know you can’t, that even trying to meet a werewolf in wolfskin face on when they’re raring for a fight is a sign of challenge; it’s even worse if they’re on the hunt, and you know that Junhui is.
Slowly, the steps circle you, keeping a steady distance as the predator stalks his prey. As your heart races in your chest, fear pumping blood almost violently through your veins, you know that Junhui can hear it; and it’s only when you think about that, that you realise exactly what he’s doing. He’s scaring you on purpose. He’s letting you hear him so that you know he’s there; so that you know that at any second, he only needs to pounce, and he’ll be on top of you, teeth buried in your flesh and bathing in your blood sprayed extra enthusiastically by your racing heart.
You know that sometimes, wolves wear the blood of their prey during hunts as a trophy, as something to show off; to show other wolves how big and scary they are considered to their prey. It’s not at all a common practise for werewolves to do where humans are concerned, purely because it’s not morally acceptable— nor legal— for werewolves to hunt and kill humans anymore; but you know they still do it when they hunt animals out in the woodlands.
Right now, Junhui doesn’t see you as a human he’s supposed to protect, just a nuisance of a creature he wants to be rid of. Wearing your blood would be a coat of honour, at least until his sane, humane mind returns, then you know it’ll be something he’ll never wash off, not really.
Although you genuinely fear being attacked from behind more than any other direction, it’s when Junhui is behind you that you suddenly recall that he had earlier tried to tell you to pick up a pole to protect yourself with. You know you’ve moved a little now compared to when he said it was on your right and he’d guide you, but you also know that it truly might be your only chance to hold Junhui off long enough for him to remember who he is. Even with a pole for a weapon, you’re still likely to get hurt by the wolf, but you would rather have a few injuries than your throat torn out; there’s no coming back from that, after all.
You try to be subtle when you shift, getting ready to lunge to your right and hope you reach in the right direction, you barely even adjust your weight, but Junhui’s steps fall still and he lets out a low, warning growl. Now that he’s been broken from his pacing, you know you can’t wait, he’ll pounce any second and you’ll have lost your chance.
Without hesitation, you lean over, reaching your right arm out blindly, and hoping with your entire being that your fingers meet smooth metal to protect yourself with, not the jagged edges of more danger than you’re already in. But they don’t get the chance.
You’ve never really faced a werewolf before, you’ve only heard stories, watched videos both real and staged of werewolves in wolfskin on the attack. You know they are capable of moving so fast, of moving so quietly that a human has no hope of knowing until they have teeth and claws tearing into delicate flesh. Yet still, it all happens so much quieter, so much quicker than you could’ve ever prepared for, could’ve ever imagined in all your fear fuelled thoughts.
It’s only a silent instant, barely a blink, barely a breath, and then sharp teeth are around your forearm.
You freeze the second you feel the wolf on your right, his mouth open around your arm, hot breath against your skin, and the points of dangerous teeth resting against your goose bumped flesh.
For a second or two, you don’t dare to breathe, don’t dare to move. Wide eyes remain glued ahead unseeing, left fingers braced on the tiles to steady you, knees aching against the tiles, and forearm hovering in midair.
And the wolf doesn’t move. Doesn’t close his jaw, doesn’t bite, doesn’t do a fucking thing. As if he’s waiting.
It feels like you’re paused for far too long, fear so thick in your body that you can barely breathe, can barely hear anything over the thundering of your heart in your chest. Yet somehow, you hear it. A soft little noise, and you react without thought, looking towards it; right at the wolf before you can realise that even if you can’t see him, he can see you and know if your gaze meets his in unintended challenge.
Despite what it means, despite how Junhui should react and bite your arm clean off with one effortless snap of his jaws the second your face turns to him, he doesn’t. He lets out another little noise, almost akin to a gentle whine, before his jaw opens and releases you. You jolt in surprise when you feel him nudge you with his muzzle, prompting you to sit back down and back up slightly.
Utterly bewilderingly, you hear him shuffle around to where you had been reaching out, and he must move the items there as you hear the clatter and rolling, the crunch and rustling of metal, litter, and other objects. Honestly, you have no fucking idea what’s going on right now, and there’s a part of you that wants to ask— even knowing a wolf can’t talk to answer— but the fear still runs thick in your veins, and you can’t make yourself do anything but sit there in terrified wait.
When Junhui returns to your side, he makes noise the entire short journey; paws patting, claws clicking, and little almost chuffing type sounds from his throat. Something about it feels like he’s telling you he’s nearing, warning you of his impending closeness to not scare you.
You still can’t see anything, but you can feel it when he stands before you, you can feel the heat rolling off his furred body; you can feel his presence, the power emanating from him. Despite that, despite the clear masses of points he has over you, the winning hand he truly holds, he lowers himself by your feet and curls around you, whining softly in deference to you. You feel his nose nudge against your hand where it lays on your thigh; without thought, you lift it, and your breath catches when his head rests on your leg. He whines again, shuffling closer, wrapping you in his protection, and you suddenly realise the truth of what this is; Junhui is protecting you, even when he should be ripping your throat out for all the grief you’ve given him over the years.
Somehow, he’s fought his very nature to do the very thing he’s always been scared he’ll never be able to do; he’s keeping you safe.
“Oh,” you murmur, exhaling, and just like that, the fear starts to seep out, your heart starts to calm.
Carefully, you lower your still raised hand to his head and lightly run your fingers through his thick, slightly coarse fur. The noise he lets out sounds pleased, so you relax into it, grow more confident, and stroke your hand over his head and back as far as you can reach; drag your fingers through his fur and scratch at his skin in patches. He seems to really like it when you rub the pads of your fingers deeply through the fur at the back of his neck, letting out heavy, happy huffs every time, so you make sure to give extra focus there.
Honestly, even if you had the ability to keep an eye on the time right now, you would still lose track. There’s something incredibly hypnotic and soothing about petting a giant wolf, especially one who seems to want to meld with your body, routinely shuffling and curling closer to you even when he physically can’t get any closer.
Even though you don’t know how long it’s been, you’re certain it’s been some time; more than long enough for your pulse and breathing to return to a calm, steady state, and for Junhui to doze off under your tender touch. You’re so content that you jump and your heart skips a few beats when Junhui lifts suddenly, standing up, and growls low and warningly in the direction of the shutter. It takes a second for your logic to beat the fear down and let you understand that the werewolf’s finely tuned senses have picked up something your own weak-in-comparison ones can’t.
Though after a few more moments, you can hear footsteps on the other side of the shutter seconds before a voice calls out. “Junhui?!” Almost instantly, the wolf growls louder in warning, and the man curses worriedly before he calls your name. “Are you okay?! We’re going to get you out!”
“I’m fine!” you reply. “Seriously, he hasn’t hurt me!”
“Really?” his tone turns surprised now, concern abruptly gone in his disbelief.
“Yeah! He’s been calm until he heard you.” Junhui lets out another warning sound, this time to you as you get up. “Shut up,” you retort quietly, and have to bite back a snort of laughter when he immediately whines and moves over to repeatedly circle you close enough that his flank doesn’t stop touching your legs. “Stop it, you’ll trip me up,” you warn. He whines again but does as told and backs off a little, though you feel him move to stand at your side so close that although you can’t feel him, you’re pretty sure his fur is brushing your clothing over your right thigh.
“Are you near the shutter?” the man on the other side calls a minute later, after you’ve heard him conversing with someone else, maybe multiple others. It’s only now that you fully recognise his voice, he must be closer to the shutter. It’s Detective Lee Seokmin, one of Junhui’s colleagues. You know the pair are friends, pretty good friends too, and you’d even go as far as to say that Seokmin could be considered a friend of yours even; he’s invited you to every party and gathering he’s hosted over the past few years, so you think that says a lot. Then again, Seokmin is a siren, and they’re pretty friendly folk with endless friends and contacts. Even without using their siren song to influence another’s feelings and actions, sirens just seem to gain the favour of pretty much anyone no matter where they go.
“No, we’re further back,” you answer, absently petting at Junhui’s back to stop him making any more low, growling warnings towards his friend. It bewilders you a little that Junhui is growling at Seokmin like this, but you don’t want to try and decode that right now and instead plan to simply ask Junhui about it tomorrow when he’s human again and able to communicate in words, not whines and growls.
“Alright, stay there, we’re going to cut the locks now. It’s going to be loud for Jun, so cover his ears for him if he’ll let you,” Seokmin warns.
“Okay!” Without hesitation, you move to kneel down beside Jun and hold his head so that you can cover his ears carefully. He whines and gently tries to shake you off. All you do is tut your tongue against the roof of your mouth disapprovingly, and he acquiesces, whimpering softly in scold as he shrinks a little in place before falling still.
It takes a couple of minutes of the grinding of metal as it’s cut, sparks jumping into view in the little dent Junhui made in the shutter earlier before the tool is turned off. As soon as the shutter starts rattling up, Junhui pulls his head from your hold so that he can face the entrance of the slowly lightening store, and take up growling all over again, this time louder and clearer in his warnings as the “threat” is revealed.
“Stop it,” you scold softly, tapping his side once. Junhui listens, for the most part at least. The growling grows quiet enough that you have to almost strain your ears to hear it, and he moves to stand directly in front of where you still kneel.
“Hi,” Seokmin greets, popping his head under the shutter as it’s slowly rolled up. You can just about see the lower halves of a few officers dressed in protective gear either side of the shutter, their gloved hands lifting it a little at a time. Even Seokmin looks like he’s wearing protective gear from what you can see of his body where it’s oddly contorted so that he can look under the shutter.
“Full moon crew?” you ask, realising that you recognise the specialised gear from training videos you’ve watched of other supernatural species restraining werewolves on the full moon.
“Yeah,” Seokmin confirms, moving to crouch carefully, eyes darting between Junhui’s form and your head barely in view above the wolf’s back. “We only realised what the day is when we realised it’s been a while since he checked in, longer than normal, and obviously, he didn’t answer the radio in his car. Honestly, we thought that we were going to find a very different scenario once we found you two.”
“You’re not the only one,” you reply with a soft laugh.
“You’re really okay? He didn’t get you before getting his mind back, did he?”
“No, didn’t even try to.”
Seokmin makes a surprised sound that quickly turns considering. “Strange. Oh well, better not to question it, just be glad we don’t have to call the cleaners in.”
“Trust me, I’m very glad of that.”
Seokmin grins, chuckling lightly, before he focuses his attention solely on Jun. “If we finish opening the shutter, you’re not going to jump any of us, are you?” Junhui growls, though cuts off when you make that disapproving tut again, entirely without thought and just wanting him to behave. “Wow, only a couple hours with him and you’ve trained him already! Are you sure you don’t have some kind of magic in you?” the siren jokes while making a motion behind him before he raises up to stand as the shutter is lifted the rest of the way, revealing even more of the FMRT— Full Moon Response Team— behind him, holding various tools and non-deadly weapons designed to subdue a werewolf. Though you know that there will be at least one deadly weapon amongst the bunch, but they’re not authorised to even pull those out unless the situation is dire.
“Very positive,” you muse, raising to your feet. Junhui adjusts, standing even taller now; you hadn’t even realised he wasn’t at his full height but lowered a little to not be so tall against your kneeled form.
“Well, come on then, let’s get you both home.”
When Seokmin had said “home”, you’re sure you all assumed that to mean your separate homes, as in you’d get in your car and drive yourself home, and Junhui would get in the transportation van and be driven to his own home. Yet, when you had walked to your car, Junhui stuck to your side and continued to glare and growl at anyone who dared to get within a few metres of the two of you. Even when you tried to walk the wolf to the van and encourage him into it, he refused. So, you relented, opened the back door of your car to let him claim the backseats, then got in the front.
Ideally, you would’ve driven Junhui home yourself, but despite having known the man for five years, you don’t know his address, only the neighbourhood; and when you drove around it, Junhui didn’t give any indication of where you should go to get him home. You knew you couldn’t leave him out wandering in public either, no supernatural being is allowed to be in anything but their human form in public places— unless specially designed for it—, so you only had one option.
Now, you’re sitting on your sofa trying not to give in to Junhui’s literal puppy-dog eyes and cute, pleading whining as he gently paws at your thigh with one paw, the other placed on the sofa you’re refusing to let him get on.
“No, Junhui, you’re bigger than the entire seat!” you exclaim, nudging him back down when he not-so-subtly tries to edge up onto the cushion by your side. He whines even more pitifully, lowers his head, and looks up at you from the top of his eyes, making them even bigger, and paws your thigh some more. The little shit knows just how to push your buttons too, it seems; at least in the way of being cute and getting his way. “Asshole,” you huff, and get up to motion to the sofa. “Go on then!”
Junhui yips happily and bounces once before he clambers up onto the sofa. While he’s excitedly getting settled, you move to sit in the armchair and turn the TV on to pass time until the sun rises and Junhui can shift back into humanskin. A soft bark makes you look at him, and somehow the wolf sitting upright on your sofa looks utterly, devastatingly betrayed.
“What?” you question, pointing to the TV. “Is it too loud?” Junhui huffs and then paws at the space on the sofa you previously occupied. “What? Are you seriously expecting me to stay there when you take up the whole length?” He whines and starts to tilt his head down to give you another one of those almost heart-wrenchingly adorable expressions. “Fine!” you give in before he can even start, knowing you won’t survive another round of boss level puppy-dog eyes. Junhui barks excitedly as you get up. “Shush! It’s 2am, my neighbours are sleeping.”
Suddenly a little sheepish, Junhui shrinks slightly, somehow looking apologetic as you plop back down in your previous seat on the sofa. He lets out a quiet version of his happy bark that makes you laugh, and then he’s dropping down onto his belly, propping his chin on your thighs, and peering up at you; looking nothing but adorably happy and content as your left hand naturally starts to pet him while the right flicks though options on the TV remote to find something to watch.
Although you settle on something you assume Junhui would be interested in— based on TV shows you’ve heard him comment on positively over the years—, he doesn’t really look at the screen. His eyes mostly remain focused on you as his tail sways just out of your view where it hangs off the edge of the sofa. You’re entirely absorbed in the show; gasping, laughing, and commenting in all the right places that he is far too content watching you to dare look away even for a moment.
The next time you turn back into the world instead of the historical drama that has well and truly stolen your attention, it’s been hours. Long enough, in fact, that you can see the sun peeking around the edge of the curtains pulled over the living room windows.
Yet still, there’s a wolf using your lap as his own personal pillow; a fully awake wolf who should be a human already.
You peer down at him questioningly after pausing your show, and he lets out a soft little whimper, shuffling a little closer and nuzzling into your stomach as if he’s trying to hide from your scrutinising gaze. “Why haven’t you shifted back?” you ask. He whines, and you sigh. “I don’t understand you like this; shift back and talk, Junhui.”
Though instead of doing that, he gets up and scuttles to the front door as if he’s planning to escape. But two things entirely fuck up his plan. The first being obvious; he doesn’t have opposable thumbs in this form, so he can’t work any of the locks you have on the door. And the second also being equally as obvious and related to the first; he’s literally a giant wolf and would get arrested if he went out in public like this.
There’s a moment where you can see Junhui mentally war with himself as he slumps down, the top of his head pressing against the door as he debates what to do, then he slumps further in resignation.
Although the transformation into wolfskin had been loud, had sounded beyond painful, the shift back into humanskin is silent, effortless. You can’t tell if it was because it was a forced shift that it was so horrendous, or because Junhui had fought against it so much.
Honestly, for a second, you had forgotten that Junhui’s clothes are obviously not on the man now; they’re in tatters on dirty tile flooring still, only the items from his pockets didn’t get destroyed and are in a clear evidence bag on the side table beside the front door for Junhui to take home with him when he goes. Admittedly, for a couple of seconds you can’t do anything but dumbly stare at the long expanse of naked back, of perky ass, broad shoulders, and tiny waist. The man truly is beautiful, and you can’t be blamed for being struck dumb by the sight.
“Can I please have a blanket?” his quiet, shy voice brings you back to life, and you scramble off the sofa so quickly that you almost fall. Luckily, he’s not looking, so he doesn’t know the fool you just made of yourself, and you can cool the embarrassed flush on your cheeks before you near him with a large, soft, and freshly washed, blanket in your hold. You drape it around his shoulders while being very considerate to not even accidentally get a view of the front of his nude form. “Thank you.”
“I’ll get you something to wear, I should have at least some shorts,” you say, already rushing off to your bedroom to give him some space and privacy to get up. Once in your room, you take a moment to gather your mental strength and push aside the image of Junhui’s ass imprinted on your mind before you rummage through your clothes to find something to cover the man’s nudity.
As you thought, you do have a pair of men’s shorts that should fit him, bought for yourself a while back due to how lightweight and comfy they felt on the hanger in store, and regularly worn in warmer weather. You’re not convinced any of your t-shirts will fit his broad shoulders really. You honestly don’t even know how he finds anything in stores to fit his physique without looking ridiculous— because he always looks impeccably dressed. Still, you grab one you think might be okay and quickly return to him.
Junhui is standing in the kitchen, one arm stuck out of the blanket cloak he’s wearing as he swallows down a glass of water quicker than you thought possible. “Sorry,” he pants when he lowers the glass, drops trailing down his chin and long throat from his rushed drinking and inability to wipe the errant drops away with only one arm available— unless he wants to let go of the blanket and be left standing butt naked in your kitchen for the sake of drying his chin.
“What for?” you ask bewilderedly while putting the clothes on the counter ready for him to take when he’s ready.
“Not asking first.” He lifts his empty glass in explanation.
“Oh, I don’t care.” You wave a dismissive hand. “You can always help yourself to water here, and honestly, most other things in the kitchen. I’m always happy to feed guests.”
“Well, I’m not exactly a guest; you didn’t want me here, I invited myself,” he points out, looking away from you in embarrassment. He finally puts down the glass and uses his now free hand to wipe the water from his skin. “So, sorry about that too.”
“Don’t be.” He lifts his head to look at you with a disbelieving, slightly questioning expression. “You have no choice but to answer my questions now,” you reason, smiling at him in a too sweet way that makes him sigh and look away from you again. It takes a second of him staring at the glass on the counter in front of him as he turns it slowly, before he nods in reluctant agreement. “Why didn’t you attack me? You didn’t seem to lose yourself at all, but before the shift you acted like you would. Why?”
“Because I thought I would.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No, I didn’t, not really.”
“So you did a bit?”
He lets out a breath, a little shaky at the edges, and nods. “Yes. I…I wasn’t entirely there at first, but I just…knew you, even in that state. I knew I’d never forgive myself if I hurt you of all people.”
“What? Why me?” He doesn’t answer. “Jun, please?”
Junhui adjusts the blanket, tucking his arm back under it and pulling the edges closer, almost as if he’s shielding himself. You can only watch with a frown, heart aching a little for how he clearly feels like he needs protecting right now. Even in humanskin, the man could tear you apart before you realise what’s happening; there’s no way you could physically hurt him.
And then you realise, only a second before he speaks, that it’s not his body that he’s trying to protect, but his heart.
“Because it’s you, it’s always been you. Since the day we met, I looked at you and I knew you’ll be the one I need more than anything, more than food, more than water. You’re my heart; without you, I can’t live.”
“Jun…”
“I–I know, you don’t need to say it,” he insists, stepping away a little jerkily as you move closer, as if his body isn’t quite reacting how it should, as if his mind isn’t in one piece enough to direct his limbs to move smoothly. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him like this. “Humans don’t have this; you don’t have connections in this way. I know you have the idea of other halves, soulmates, but it’s different. Humans give away pieces of their heart over time, yet never the whole thing; but werewolves, we give it over that first instant. I know you don’t want it, and I’m not going to even try to get you to accept it, but it’s yours all the same. Even when you find someone else to share your heart with; mine is entirely yours.”
It’s far more than you ever thought you’d hear from the man, far more than you’d ever hoped he say, that he’d feel. Your hope only stretched as far as a crush, maybe the generic form of love, but never this. Never in your life could you have imagined a werewolf to have you for a heartmate; for you to be the one person they are made to love. You know that many werewolves— the majority even— never meet their heartmate, and quite a few spend their whole lives looking.
Junhui’s right in that in some sense, it’s akin to the very human concept of soulmates, except soulmates aren’t real; there isn’t another human out there made to complete you, the other half of a whole. Whereas heartmates are very real— if rare—, and they aren’t the other half of anything. No werewolf is incomplete without a heartmate, and they’re certainly not made for one another, but they are connected from the first moment they meet until their last moment on this earth.
When one of the pair of a heartmate dies, the other does too; as once the bond is formed, a werewolf can’t live without their heartmate. Which means, that if something happens to you, should you die, Junhui would shortly follow. However, as you’re human, you don’t feel the bond and could live on if something happens to Junhui.
It makes sense why Junhui is so intent on protecting you now, now that you know that he literally can’t live without you. Though that’s cheapening the bond entirely to say. Junhui doesn’t want you alive for his own sake, so that he gets to keep living too; Junhui wants you alive because he’s in love with you.
If you weren’t so caught up in the moment, in your racing heart and Junhui’s form curled in on himself where he’s backed up in the corner while you approach, you’d think the little whimper he lets out when you cup his face is so close to the noises he make in wolfskin that it’d make you giggle. As is it though, you barely notice, and instead focus on gently turning his face so that he has to look at you. He starts to close his eyes, but something on your face must surprise him, as he flutters his eyes open, eyebrows lifting slightly, and lips parting.
“Before the shift took you, I thought you were going to rip my heart out.” He whines, shrinking further at the thought; at the reminder that you were scared for your safety because of him. “And I wanted to take what I thought would be my last and only chance to tell you where it is.” Abruptly, his unhappy sounds cut off, and his head tilts slightly, adorably confused. You smile gently and lift one hand from his face to place it on his chest and tap over where you can feel his heart racing and thudding against his ribs to reach out to you. “Right here, Junhui, my heart is right here.”
“I…what?” he whispers, adjusting his position so that he’s not curled to the side, but facing you; straightening a little but never removing his face from your adoring touch, or chest from your reach. One of his hands wraps around your wrist to keep your palm against his torso, even with the blanket still wrapped entirely around him and creating a soft barrier between your skin. “With me?” You nod. “Your heart is with me?”
“Yes,” you confirm, laughing slightly. “When you got shot, I almost lost my mind; I was so scared I’d lose you.”
“But you…you’ve always…”
“Been an asshole?” He nods firmly, then turns a little sheepish when he realises what he’s just agreed to, and a tiny, adorably apologetic smile tilts his lips up. You giggle. “I have. It was in retaliation at first; I really did think you hated me from the start, and I don’t know if you’ve noticed this about me, Jun, but I don’t take that kind of shit laying down.”
“I’ve definitely noticed,” he confirms with a soft, huffed laugh. “You always stand up to anyone who even tries to treat you like shit; you’ve earned a lot of respect because of it.”
“And some enemies too.”
“Yeah, and those. But I’ll never let them hurt you; I’ll always protect you, you know that, right?” he checks, looking and sounding so utterly earnest.
“I know that now,” you assure, and he relaxes a little. When you brush your thumb over his cheek, he lets out a content little sigh and tilts into your touch. “I want to be with you, Wen Junhui,” you inform quietly, and hear his breath catch, watch his eyes widen slightly. “But I don’t know if we should.”
“What?” His expression tugs down as he frowns at you while he straightens up. “If you’re worried it will ruin our working relationship, you’re wrong. I’ve been in love with you from the start, I know how to act during work.”
“No, it’s not that. It’s that you’re a werewolf, and I’m a human.”
“And? I didn’t think you care about that kind of thing. You said I have your heart, doesn’t that mean you love me?”
“It does. And I don’t care about cross species relationships at all. What I mean is that I won’t live to a hundred years, but you will live a lot longer.”
“No, I’ll–”
“Die when I do,” you finish, and he nods. “I’ll spend the entire time scared of that.”
“Whether we’re together or not, I’ll die when you do. At least this way, I can love you the way you deserve, not from a distance,” he reasons. In an act that makes you choke on air, he lets go of the blanket protecting his modesty so that he can cup your face with both of his large hands, slender fingers curling to hold you securely, yet still so gentle; not like you’ll break, but like you deserve to be held tenderly. “Please, let me love you the way you deserve, my heartmate.”
“I…Fuck,” you let all tension out at once and tilt up towards him. Junhui doesn’t hesitate to lean in to meet your lips with eager affection, both melting into one another in the way you never thought would happen, but now that it has, you know nothing has ever felt so right.
A few moments later, when the kiss breaks, Junhui rests his forehead against yours. “Thank you, for letting me love you.”
“Thank you for loving me. I know it’s not your choice, but I’m grateful all the same.”
“Not as grateful as me; you let yourself fall for me. That’s…” he lets out a breath that sounds overwhelmed in the best of ways before his lips curl up as he lifts enough that you can look at one another comfortably. “I love you, and I’m so happy that I can spend the rest of our lives showing you that.”
“I…Do…do you think that maybe…you can turn me?” you suggest, and his eyes widen in genuine shock. “So that you can be my heartmate too and we can live a long life together, and you don’t have to watch me grow old while you age at a fraction of the speed?”
“You’d really do that? Become a werewolf for me?”
“I would,” you confirm, confident and without hesitation. “I want to love you for a long time, Junhui.”
“Fuck.” He pulls you in for another kiss, this one longer, deeper, more intense as he spills out all his overwhelmed joy and passion against your lips. He only stops a little after he’s lifted you up onto the counter to stand between your thighs and make it easier to hold you close to his chest as his tongue does things that makes you very excited to spend the rest of your life experiencing again, and again.
“Well then,” you exhale, chest heaving when he pulls back, allowing your human lungs to try to catch some air. He’s breathing heavily too, but you know he has naturally better stamina than you and can hold his breath for longer— as revealed a few months into working together when you discovered that his car’s breaks had been cut when, no matter how hard he stomped on the pedal, he couldn’t stop the vehicle careening into the dock in the middle of the night, and you had surfaced almost two minutes before him, barely conscious with your lungs burning.
“We can have pups,” he blurts, making you choke on absolutely nothing. “Shit, sorry, sorry, I just…If–if we had a baby when you’re human, they would be human too because you can’t shift to birth them as a wolf, so they won’t be born a wolf, meaning they’ll never shift and—”
“Sweet boy,” you coo, cupping his face, and then press a quick peck on the tip of his nose that makes him briefly go a little cross eyed. “It’s very cute that you’re thinking about putting a baby in me already–” He whines shyly and tucks his head down to hide his blushing face in your palms, making you giggle. “But let’s take it one step at a time, okay? I’m not against it exactly, but not any time soon. First, let’s focus on us, and our careers. When we’re both ready to find less dangerous work, we can circle back to pup talk, yeah?”
“Yeah,” he agrees, nodding as he peers at you from over the edge of your hands, eyes adorably big and beautiful. “You need to be turned first too, and that’ll make work safer–” He suddenly gasps and straightens up, looking excited. “You can become a cop once you’re a werewolf!”
“Oh, yeah, I could. I didn’t even consider that.”
“No? I thought you would’ve. You’ve always said you would’ve if you legally could.”
“Mm, I know, and I would’ve. But I kind of really like being my own boss and not having to go the routes you guys do. Also, I’d have to start from the bottom and work my way up, and that would mean years before there’s even a chance of us working together again. They’d probably give you a partner in that time and then not reassign you once I’m qualified; probably wouldn’t let spouses work together. Jihoon isn’t allowed to work with his wife; they both have told me that.”
“That’s mostly because they distract each other and have been caught making out all over the precinct,” Junhui clarifies, making you snicker, easily able to imagine Jihoon and his wife being unable to keep their hands off each other even during working hours; they’re truly obsessed with one another in a mostly cute— and a little gross— way. “But also, can we circle around to you calling us spouses and then relating to a married couple, and that…are you planning to marry me?”
“Definitely,” you confirm with a nod, and he squeaks, lifting his hands to his own cheeks to try and hide his goofy grin. “After a year of being a couple, we can start thinking about marriage properly; once we’ve discovered how we work as a couple.”
“Mm, yep, yep, we can do that,” he agrees, head bobbling in a way that makes you giggle, though you cut off when you reach out to wrap your arms around his waist and are reminded that he is very much completely fucking naked.
“Oh.” You stare at his chest, drag your gaze down his chiselled torso, and then pout when your view is blocked by the edge of the counter by his hips. Damn your apartment for having such high counters. “You’re very naked,” you comment.
“Oh!” He lets out an alarmed noise then reaches out one handed to grab the shorts from the pile, the other hand lifting to cover your eyes.
“I’m going to see it sooner or later,” you reason, though don’t really argue, and even close your eyes and turn away from him.
“I know, I know, I just want it to be intended, and at least after our first date,” he says as he works on quickly pulling on the shorts, then the t-shirt, before returning to you. “And with that in mind, let me take you out to dinner tonight,” he requests, turning you to face him again, so you open your eyes to look at him; the t-shirt is definitely pulling tight over his shoulders, but he doesn’t look uncomfortable and you’re certainly not complaining— even if it’s going to ruin the shape of the t-shirt.
“Or, you can cook for me. Everyone praises your cooking, and I think it’s time you finally let me try it,” you suggest.
Junhui smiles and nods. “I’d love to cook for you.”
“Great, that means we can spend all day here!” you enthuse and clap a few times happily. “I want to watch more of that show and cuddle the fuck out of you on the sofa until we fall asleep.”
“Okay, my heartmate, whatever you want,” he agrees with a chuckle before pressing one more kiss to your lips, and then playfully sweeps you off the counter to carry to the sofa and drop down together. The pair of you shuffle around until you’re comfortably tucked up against one another ready to spend the rest of the day together doing nothing but watching TV and relaxing.
You know that every day isn’t going to be like this, especially as tomorrow, you’ll both have to go back to work, and you truly never know what dangers your jobs will bring. And you know that even though you’re Junhui’s heartmate, and that you love him as much as a human can love another, it won’t all be smooth sailing. There will be fights; there will be days where you can’t stand being near each other and will wonder if you will be able to move past that feeling.
But you know in your heart that the good will outweigh the bad, and that when you you’re both old and looking back on your long life together, you’ll see a life full of love, and a life well spent.
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Word Count: 955
Genre: Fluff, comedy
AU: Non idol AU
Tropes: Established relationship, domestic fluff
Rating: PG, but I still ask that MINORS DNI!
Warnings: Just a little bit of swearing. If you think I missed a warning, please let me know!
Summary: Your girlfriend surprises you with newly assembled furniture.
Nets: @winerys-collection, @mnemosynesjournal
A/N: This fic is a gift for my love @effervescentorbs. Happy birthday!! I love you so much.
Taglist: @xomakara, @chugging-antiseptic-dye
Send me an ask or dm to be added or removed!
Fic is under the cut.
When you walked into Jiwoo’s apartment, you heard far more banging and swearing than you expected. At first, you wondered if her roommate, Sooyoung, was working on another “D.I.Y. project,” but when you heard a sweet, familiar voice angrily yell, “Fuck!” you knew that it was Jiwoo. So, you slowly and carefully walked through her living room, looking for the source of the sound to determine if anyone was injured or otherwise in distress.
“Honey, do you need help?” you called as you walked through the kitchen toward Jiwoo’s bedroom.
“I’m fine, babe!” Jiwoo shouted back. “Just trying to get this fucking thing to stay put!” You heard more banging as she spoke, and you wondered what the hell was happening.
“What are you doing?” you asked as you entered her room.
“Oh, this!” she said, frantically turning around to show you the dresser that she’d just finished assembling.
It was small, barely fitting next to the one she already had, and it looked like it might fall apart if you touched it the wrong way, but you knew she’d put a lot of effort into putting it together. So, you smiled and said, “I’m so proud of you, my love. But, why?”
She looked shy as she answered, “You know how you’ve been spending the night here more?”
“Yeah?”
“I thought having a dresser to store your stuff in would make it easier,” she answered, fidgeting and blushing as she tried to explain. “Instead of bringing stuff with you every time like you have been, you could just keep some of your clothes here. I even got you a new toothbrush to keep with mine.”
You didn’t say anything for a minute, stunned that she took the time out of her already chaotic schedule to do something like assembling furniture just to make it easier for the two of you to spend time together. When you noticed that she looked worried, though, you smiled and said, “Thank you. It was a wonderful idea.”
“Are you upset?” she asked, clearly still nervous.
“Not at all. Just surprised, honestly. You assembled a dresser by yourself for me?”
“Well, I asked Sooyoung for help, but she had to work. And of course I did it for you. I love you.”
Without another word, you pulled her into a hug, struggling to comprehend exactly how you found someone like Jiwoo, who was always willing to go above and beyond if it meant making you happy or just making life even a little bit easier. As you held her close, you silently hoped that the two of you would spend the rest of your lives loving each other.
You didn’t know how much time had passed with the two of you silently holding each other close, but next thing you knew, you heard Sooyoung yell, “I’m home, Ji! Did you get that dresser put together?”
Jiwoo stepped away to yell back, “Yep! It was a pain in the ass but I did it!”
“That's great!” Sooyoung said as she passed by Jiwoo’s room to get to hers. “I’m going to Jinsol’s place for a girls’ night, so I'm not gonna be back until tomorrow. I'm just stopping by to grab the overnight bag I keep in my room.”
“Ok, have fun!” you and Jiwoo said at the same time.
After Sooyoung left, Jiwoo asked, “Do you wanna go get some of your clothes to keep here?”
“Yeah, that sounds great.”
With that, the two of you left to go back to your apartment. The drive was unusually quiet, with you focused on driving and Jiwoo keeping her eyes closed as she enjoyed the silence. It was common for Jiwoo to just rest whenever the two of you were in the car together, and you loved being able to give her a few moments of peace within the chaos of life.
When you got to your apartment, the two of you worked together to gather some of your clothes, as well as a few skincare products and a bottle of your favorite body wash to keep at Jiwoo and Sooyoung’s place. Once you finished packing everything, you drove back.
Once your stuff was inside, you worked together to fill the new dresser while Jiwoo showed you her newly expanded vinyl collection. As you decided where you wanted to put the clothes that you’d brought with you, she showed you each album and told you a little bit about it, like when it was released and fun facts about the songs.
“This one came out in 2019!” she said, her eyes sparkling as she showed you Miracle Pill by the Goo Goo Dolls. “I still can’t believe I managed to find it at a thrift store of all places.”
“I remember when you sent me some of the songs right after we started dating,” you said as you folded a pair of pants to put them in the dresser.
As you listened to Jiwoo talk about her favorite songs and all of the reasons they were significant to her, you thought about how much you loved it when she shared the things she loved with you. Every time she showed you another piece of her world, you fell just a little harder, and all you wanted as you put the last of your things away was to continue falling for her every day for the rest of your life.
After your things were put away, you pulled Jiwoo into a hug and said, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For doing this for me. For everything you do for me.”
“You know I do it because I love you, right?”
“I know. That’s exactly why it means so much to me.”
Thank you everyone for reading! If you liked this one, please make sure to like and reblog!
If you wanna check out my other works, my masterlist can be found here. If you wanna see what I'm working on, my upcoming works list is here. If you'd like to be tagged whenever I upload a new fic, my taglist form is here! You can also send me an ask or dm at any time to be added or removed.
Thank you again for reading, and have a wonderful day!
Word Count: 8,582
Genre: Fluff, angst, smut
AU: Non idol AU, kind of a mafia AU, politician AU?
Tropes: Strangers to lovers, DA!Yoongi, defense attorney!Junhui, fucking your husband's rival
Rating: Explicit, MINORS DNI!
Warnings: Swearing, cheating, unhealthy relationships, mentioned pregnancy (not reader), brief and probably unrealistic fight scene, smut (unprotected sex, creampie, a little bit of biting, a tiny bit of breast play, Jun is a tease, sub!Jun, soft dom!reader, Jun calls reader "ma'am," oral sex, reader is Jun's under the desk support at one point, cockwarming, sort-of exhibitionism). If you think I missed a warning, please let me know!
Summary: When your best friend shows up on your doorstep to tell you that she's pregnant with your husband's baby, you decide to get revenge with the one man you know he doesn't want you talking to.
A/N: This fic was originally planned to be a part of the "War of Love" collab, however I don't think that the collab is still running. Regardless, I really wanted to get this fic out there. I hope you like it!
Thank you so much to @nothoughtsjustfic, @effervescentorbs, @themoonlightfae, and @spacequokka for helping me brainstorm, and thank you to @kwanisms for helping me brainstorm and making this amazing banner! I love y'all <3
Taglist: @xomakara, @chugging-antiseptic-dye, @okiedokrie-main, @notyourjaem, @ikeukiss, @shadowkoo, @1-800-jewon, @my-neurodivergent-world, @be-my-sunrise
Send me an ask or dm to be added or removed!
Fic is under the cut.
There were very few things that you hated more than attending charity auctions with your husband. Sure, you loved Yoongi, and you completely understood that it was important to him to give back to your community, but you hated the way he treated you when the two of you were out together. Instead of being treated like his wife, you were treated more like an ornament. A trophy for your husband to show that he’d “made it” and had the life he’d always wanted. As much as you hated it though, you went anyway, because you knew how important his image was to him. And being a loving husband was an important part of his image, no matter how inaccurate that image was to the reality of your relationship with him after ten years together.
As the night went on, you got increasingly bored. No one at the event would have known it, though, especially not your husband. After all, Yoongi was too busy talking to Miyeon, his secretary and your best friend, to pay attention to you. You’d been suspicious of the relationship between Yoongi and Miyeon for a long time, but every time you brought up your concerns to either one of them, you were told how much they both cared about you and that they would never do that to you. You weren’t entirely sure that you believed them, but you really tried to for your own sake.
Not wanting to sit at the table and be ignored by your husband anymore, you decided to head to the bathroom to touch up your makeup. After your appearance was adjusted to your satisfaction, you stayed where you were a few extra minutes, just taking a few deep breaths and enjoying the small moment of peace. Feeling refreshed by your time away from the crowd that was sitting outside and pretending to care about charity, you decided to go back to your table.
You were still walking back when you noticed someone that was standing nearby. He was gorgeous, and when your eyes met, he smiled like the two of you were old friends, despite the fact that you’d never seen him before. You knew it was wrong to look at anyone other than your husband the way that you were now looking at the stranger, but you couldn’t help yourself. You briefly considered approaching him so that you could introduce yourself, but before you could, he approached you and said, “Hi, gorgeous. My name’s Junhui. What’s yours?”
That was when you realized who you were speaking to. This was the man that was running against Yoongi for the position of district attorney in the upcoming election. The man that Yoongi took any and every opportunity that presented itself to rant about, telling you exactly why you were never to speak to him.
But one little conversation couldn’t hurt, right?
With a smile, you introduced yourself and said, “It’s nice to meet you.”
“So, are you here with anyone?” Junhui asked, acting more like he was at a club than a charity auction.
“Yes, actually. I’m here with my husband.”
“Oh, really? Then why are you all alone?”
“He’s back at our table,” you answered as you pointed to where Yoongi sat with Miyeon. “Actually, I should probably go sit back down with him,” you added, hoping your voice didn’t give away just how nervous you were to be talking to such a gorgeous man.
“What’s your rush, sweetheart?”
“I just don’t want him to worry.”
“He looks fine to me,” Junhui said, staring past you and looking like he wanted to punch someone.
You turned away from Junhui to see what he was staring at, and that was when you saw the way that Yoongi was looking at Miyeon, holding her hand and staring into her eyes the way that he used to look into yours. That was when you decided that you weren’t really in a hurry to get back to him and said, “I guess a few more minutes couldn’t hurt.”
You talked to Junhui for a while after that, and you had to admit that you liked the way he made you feel as you spoke. He asked questions about the things that you said that showed that he was paying attention, something that Yoongi never did anymore, and he looked at you like you were the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen, something that no one had ever done before. You knew it was wrong, but you would have been lying if you’d said that you weren’t at least a little bit attracted to Junhui.
When you finally got back to your table, you noticed that your friend was nowhere in sight. So, as you took your seat next to your husband, you asked, “Where did Miyeon go?”
“She left to go talk to someone. Listen, I need to go take care of a few things after the auction ends. Do you think you can get an Uber home tonight?”
“Of course, honey,” you answered, used to him leaving you as soon as he didn’t need to look good anymore. “Do you know when you’ll be home?”
“No, I don’t. Sorry, sweetheart.”
“That’s ok. Just be safe tonight. I love you.”
Your husband was too distracted by Miyeon’s abrupt return to your table to even notice that you’d said something to him. Not wanting to be the third wheel in your own relationship anymore that night, you decided that you were ready to leave. So, you got up and walked toward the exit, intending to call an Uber once you were outside. Before you got to the door, though, you bumped into Junhui again.
“Hi, gorgeous,” he said. “Where are you off to?”
“Just heading home for the night. I’m a bit tired,” you answered, hoping that you could successfully hide the complex emotions swirling around your mind.
“Without your husband?” he asked, feigning surprise. “Scandalous!”
“He just wanted to stay and enjoy the auction.”
“The auction, sure,” he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he noticed Yoongi laughing with Miyeon at your table. Turning his attention back to you, he added, “Before you go, take this,” and handed you a small slip of paper.
“What is it?”
“My number.”
“Oh, I can’t take this. I-”
“Relax, sweetheart. I just wanna be friends.”
You knew that he was full of shit, but you still smiled and said, “Ok.” There was a moment of silence before you added, “I really should go now. I’ll text you when I get home?”
“Works for me. It was nice meeting you, by the way.”
“Yeah, it was nice to meet you too,” you said, making your way toward the exit. Once you were outside, you got an Uber to take you home, and for the entire ride, you thought about the man that you’d met at the auction. You knew who Junhui was, since your husband had spoken about him to you at length, but you’d never gotten the chance to speak to him directly, or even seen his face for that matter, before the charity auction. Now that you had actually met him, though, you couldn’t help but wonder if he really was as bad as Yoongi said he was.
Was this really the same man that Yoongi had spent weeks ranting about? The man that Yoongi believed would make the seat of district attorney look like a joke if he was elected? The man known for his “shady tactics and shadier associations, who has absolutely no business in public office,” according to your husband? You couldn’t really believe it, if you were being honest. If the things that Yoongi had said about Junhui were true, though, that meant he was definitely bad news.
And yet, you couldn’t get him out of your mind.
When you finally got home, you took your time with your nighttime routine, letting the process of getting ready for bed ground you after a stressful day. Once your nighttime routine was done, you pulled the crumpled slip of paper that Junhui had given you out of your purse and texted the number that was written on it.
You: Hi, it’s me. It was really nice meeting you tonight.
Junhui: It was nice to meet you too, gorgeous. I’d love to see you again sometime.
You: What happened to just wanting to be friends?
Junhui: Hey, I am being friendly.
You: You’re being flirty. There’s a difference.
Junhui: It doesn’t seem like you mind, though. Am I wrong?
Needless to say, he was completely right. You knew that you were in the wrong, but you loved how attentive and sweet Junhui was compared to Yoongi. Still, you knew better than to actually act on the attraction to your husband’s rival that was beginning to settle in your chest. So, you gently reminded Junhui that you were married, and he agreed to behave. Whether he would hold up his end of the agreement, however, was yet to be seen.
About a week after the charity auction, you got a very unpleasant surprise. You woke up to a loud knock on your door, and when you answered, Miyeon stood in front of you. You figured that something was wrong when you saw the look of pure rage on her face, far different from her typical upbeat demeanor, but you had no idea what had happened. You opened your mouth to ask her what was wrong, but before you could get the words out, she asked, “Where the fuck is Yoongi?”
“He’s not home right now. He-”
“Bullshit. He told me that he was spending the day with you. Where is he?”
“He’s not home!” you yelled. “He told me that he was going to be working all day. What’s going on?”
“I’m pregnant with his baby, that’s what’s fucking going on.
You stood there in shock for what felt like hours before you asked, “What the fuck did you just say?”
“I’m pregnant, and Yoongi is the baby’s father. After I told him, he fucking ditched me. I want some answers.”
“Well, you’re not gonna get them here. Like I said, he isn’t home.”
“Fine. I’ll come back later then.”
“No, you fucking won’t. Not while I’m here, at least.”
With a huff and a stomp of her foot, Miyeon left your house. Once she was firmly out of your line of sight, you slammed your door shut, fell to the ground, and sobbed.
You honestly had no idea how to process the fact that your husband really was cheating on you, and with your best friend no less. “Rage” and “devastation” barely even began to describe the emotions swirling around your brain like a tornado of suffering, and all you could think about was how hurt you were and how badly you wanted to hurt them in return.
Maybe that’s where the idea to call Junhui came from.
Once you finally felt like you could breathe again, you pulled your phone out and dialed Junhui’s number. When he answered, you got right to the point, asking, “Are you busy today?”
“Nope. Free all day. Why do you ask?”
“Can I come over?”
“Sure. Why?”
“I think you know why.”
“I don’t. Why don’t you tell me?” he asked with a teasing tone in his voice.
“I’m pissed off and wanna fuck.”
Junhui feigned surprise as he said, “Such vulgar language from such a classy lady. Especially one that loves her dear husband so much. What brought this on?”
“My best friend just showed up at my door and told me that she’s pregnant with Yoongi’s child.”
“Oh, so this is revenge.”
“Well, yes, but that’s not the only reason.”
“Oh really? Tell me what the other reason is then, sweetheart.”
Your voice was barely above a whisper when you responded, “Just want you.”
“Then why don’t I send someone to pick you up? How does that sound?”
“Sounds good,” you answered, sounding much more confident
“What’s your address, sweetheart?” he asked. You gave it to him, and he said, “I’ll see you soon, darling,” before he ended the call.
While you waited to be picked up, you decided to change into something a bit more appropriate for what you were planning to do when you got to his place. After some careful consideration, you ended up choosing a short white dress that showed off just enough of your body to get him excited without being too inappropriate for you to wear out of the house. As for accessories, you kept it simple, wearing small white earrings. Once you put on your favorite shoes, you were ready to go.
A few minutes after you finished getting ready, you heard the sound of a car horn. So, you walked outside, and you saw a sleek black car in front of your house. When you approached the car, the driver rolled the window down and asked who you were. After you confirmed your identity, he said, “I’m Taehyun. Junhui sent me to pick you up. Are you ready?” You nodded in response and got in the car, nervous but excited for what you knew would happen when you got to Junhui’s house.
The ride to Junhui’s house was quiet, with neither you nor Taehyun quite knowing what to say to fill the silence. The awkward silence didn’t last long, though, since within minutes, you were pulling up to one of the most luxurious mansions you’d ever seen. You honestly wondered how the hell Junhui could afford it, since Yoongi had made it sound like he didn’t make much as an attorney, but you had a feeling that you didn’t want to know the answer.
You didn’t have much time to think about the matter, though, since before you knew it, you were dropped off in front of the door. As you got out of the car, you thanked Taehyun, and he drove away. With a deep breath to calm your nerves, you approached the door and rang the doorbell.
When Junhui answered the door, you smiled and said, “Hi.”
“Hi, sweetheart. Would you like to come in?” he asked. You nodded, and he took your hand before pulling you through the door. Once the door was shut and locked behind you, he smiled at you and asked, “Still looking for revenge?”
You didn’t answer him verbally, but you didn’t need to, considering your lips were on his the second he was done speaking. The kiss was short and sweet, and you did enjoy it, but you found yourself wanting more at the same time. So, when you pulled away, you asked, “Can we take this to your room?”
“Are you sure?” he asked in response. You nodded, and he said, “So eager for me. It’s cute. Come with me, darling.” You felt butterflies in your stomach when he called you “darling,” and he pulled you up a flight of stairs that you assumed led to his room.
When you got to Junhui’s room, he shut the door and pulled you close, kissing you softly. You stayed there for what felt like an eternity before you started to get impatient again and deepened the kiss, earning a soft groan from him as you tangled your hands in his hair. He pulled away with a smirk on his face and asked, “Getting impatient?”
You nodded and said, “Want you so bad.”
“Aww,” he cooed. “Do you think you could wait just a little bit longer, sweetheart? You’re just so much fun to play with.”
That was when you decided you were done waiting, pulling Junhui to the bed and climbing on top of him. With a smirk of your own, you said, “I think we’re done with that now.”
“Fine. Get up and get on your knees, then.”
You pretended to think about his instructions for a moment before you grinned and said, “Make me.”
Before you could really process what was happening, Junhui had flipped the two of you over so that he was on top. With a soft smile of his own, he looked you in the eyes and said, “Are you gonna listen, now?”
“Hm, no. I don’t think so,” you said.
“Please, darling? For me?” he asked, moving to kiss and bite your neck.
You moaned at the feeling of his mouth on you and said, “Fuck, baby. Feels so good.” Junhui whined and started to move his hips against yours, still kissing and biting every bit of you that he could reach, and that was when you had an idea. Your hands flew to his hair and tugged as you added, “Do you like when I tell you how good it feels?”
Junhui stopped what he was doing just long enough to nod against you and said, “Like knowing I’m doing a good job.”
“Well, you are, baby. Such a good boy for me.”
“Fuck,” he mumbled.
“You ok?”
“’m fine,” he answered, clearly struggling to maintain his composure.
And that was when you realized that Junhui was far different from the man that you expected him to be, at least in the bedroom. So, with a smile on your face and a voice dripping with lust, you asked, “Do you want me to take control, baby?”
Junhui looked nervous, and his voice was small as he said, “Yes, please.”
You softened when you noticed how nervous he was and said, “That’s fine with me, angel.”
Junhui noticeably relaxed at your words, and he said, “Tell me what you want. Please?”
“I want you inside me. Please, baby?”
“Yes ma’am,” he replied, swiftly climbing off of you and ridding himself of his clothes. You stood and did the same before you pulled Junhui in for another kiss. He whined when he felt your lips on his, and you pulled away with a soft laugh.
“You’re so cute,” you said.
There was a beat of silence before Junhui said, “Can I please fuck you?”
You smiled and bit your lip before you said, “Of course, baby.”
With no further hesitation, you gently pushed Junhui back onto his bed, straddling him once he was lying down. You looked down at him with a smile, wordlessly asking for confirmation. When your eyes met, he nodded and said, “Please.”
That was all you needed to hear to carefully lower yourself onto his cock, letting out a loud moan as you felt him enter you. You held onto his shoulders as you steadied yourself, still adjusting to his size. Then, when you were ready, you started to slowly move up and down.
Junhui’s hands immediately found their way to your hips, his nails digging into your skin as he reveled in the feeling of your pussy wrapped around him. The way he seemed to lose himself in you only made you want more, and you silently hoped this wouldn’t be the only time you fucked him.
“Feels so good,” Junhui whined, holding onto you tighter as he bucked his hips up to meet yours.
“I know, baby. You’re so fucking good for me,” you said with a moan.
“Better than him?” he asked, looking up at you with desperate eyes.
You were quiet for a minute in response to Junhui’s question, the only noises in the room being your ragged breaths, his desperate whines, and the sound of your skin meeting his as you continued to ride him. But when he reached up to touch your chest, a loud moan was ripped from your throat before you said, “Fuck, yes. So much better, baby.”
Junhui whined louder as he started to move his hips faster, and you couldn’t help but think about how cute he was when he was desperate to please you. The thought that you wouldn’t mind seeing him again and maybe spending time with him outside of having sex also crossed your mind, but you didn’t want to linger on that for too long, especially when you were already so close to an orgasm.
Before you knew it, a familiar rush of pleasure washed over you, and you came undone around Junhui with a loud moan of his name. He continued to fuck up into you through your release, stilling inside of you when he reached his own. He was louder than you anticipated, practically screaming your name as he came, but you didn’t really mind that. In all honesty, you thought that it was cute.
After you both caught your breath, you climbed off of him and laid your head on his chest, and he pulled you close. Once the two of you found a comfortable position, he said, “That was amazing. I can’t believe that bastard doesn’t appreciate you.” You were silent in response to his comment, and he hurriedly added, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No, it’s ok,” you mumbled, struggling to stay focused on the conversation you were having as opposed to the tornado of emotion that had begun swirling around the inside of your head once again.
“What’s on your mind, darling?” Junhui asked, his tone softer than when he’d insulted Yoongi.
“I really don’t want to go home to him tonight.”
“You could stay here tonight. If you want to, of course.”
“I can’t. He’ll wonder where I am and worry.”
“Will he?”
You were quiet for a minute as you thought about the question. Honestly, you didn’t know if Yoongi would miss you. After all, you’d lost count of how many times you’d told him that you were staying at a friend’s house for the night, gone out, and come home without any acknowledgement from your husband whatsoever. Then, you realized that even if he would miss you, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care in that moment. So, with a sigh, you answered, “Ok, I’ll stay.”
Junhui smiled gently before he kissed you again, pulling you closer as he enjoyed the feeling of your lips on his. When you pulled away for air, he looked at you with pure adoration in his eyes and said, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
He sighed softly before he said, “Being yourself.”
“You’re cute.”
“So are you,” he said. “Now, how about we get cleaned up?”
“That sounds great.”
Junhui wordlessly stood up and stretched his hand out to you. You took it and got out of bed, letting him lead you to his bathroom. Once you got there, he helped you into the shower before stepping in himself. Then, he turned the water on, and you helped him wash. Once he was clean again, he did the same for you, and the two of you talked about whatever came to mind.
Once both of you were clean again, Junhui gave you some spare clothes from his closet to put on, and you got dressed. He did the same before dragging you right back to his bed to lie down. After you both found a comfortable position, you talked about whatever you could think of, hoping to get to know each other better. You initially thought that the questions he asked you would stay superficial, like your favorite songs or what you liked to do for fun, but in a matter of minutes, the conversation topic shifted to your marriage.
“Why are you even with him?” Junhui asked, genuinely baffled by the idea of someone like you being married to someone like Yoongi.
“He wasn’t always like this,” you answered wistfully. “When we first got married, he treated me like a princess. He never let a day go by without telling me how much he loved me and how lucky he was to have me.”
“What changed?”
You thought before a minute before you answered, struggling to figure out the right words to accurately explain all of the shifts in your marriage over the years. Eventually, you sighed and said, “The changes started when he won the DA election a few years ago. He was so happy, so initially, I didn’t mind that he was ignoring me in favor of work.”
“Initially? I guess that means something else changed?”
You nodded and said, “He started forgetting the important things too. When it was just a date here and there, it was fine, but eventually he started forgetting my birthday and even our anniversary.
“Are you fucking serious?” Junhui asked, sounding more like a pissed off best friend than a guy that you’d just hooked up with.
“At first, I assumed that it was because he was busy, so I tried to be understanding. Then, when it happened again, I opened Snapchat and saw stories that Miyeon had posted earlier that night. He was with her.”
“So, does that mean that you knew about the affair when you found out about the baby?”
You nodded and answered, “I knew from the moment I got her the job as his secretary, and I saw the way he looked at her. I know that he loved me once, but even when he did, he never looked at me like that.” Your eyes started to well with tears as you wondered what she had that you didn’t, but you quickly wiped your eyes, not wanting Junhui to notice.
But of course, Junhui did notice. With a softness that you were already growing to love in his voice, he pulled you closer, rubbing your back as he said, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“It’s ok,” you replied through the tears that refused to stop falling.
The room fell silent as you cried, with Junhui shushing you gently and rubbing your back until your tears ran dry. As you caught your breath, he kissed your forehead and said, “You deserve so much better than him.”
“I’ve thought about filing for divorce so many times.”
“What’s stopping you?”
You were quiet for a minute before you answered, “I don’t want to make him look bad.”
“He made himself look bad the moment he stepped away from his marriage and got Miyeon pregnant. You wouldn’t be ruining his reputation; you’d be ensuring it was more accurate.”
You wanted to say something in response, reassure Junhui that it wasn’t what it looked like, but you knew that he was right. So, you just said, “I guess so.”
After that, the conversation topic shifted again, since neither you nor Junhui wanted to talk about your failed marriage. Despite the change in conversation, though, your thoughts stayed focused on what he’d said about your husband and his reputation. You knew that he was right, but you didn’t want to admit it just yet. So, you tried desperately to think about anything else while you started to doze off in Junhui’s arms, relaxing for the first time in what felt like an eternity as you enjoyed finally feeling wanted again.
After that first night that the two of you spent together, you and Junhui were practically inseparable, provided that your husband wasn’t around to see you with the man that he hated more than just about anyone else. Not that Yoongi was around much, anyway. Between running for re-election and Miyeon’s pregnancy, which he still thought you didn’t know about, he had pretty much no time left for you. You weren’t necessarily complaining about that, though. After all, your husband being busy made it far easier to make time to see Junhui.
It was about a month into your time with Junhui that you started visiting him in his office. You learned a lot about him from those visits, like the types of clients he usually represented and how their “support” was what gave Junhui the opportunity to live such a luxurious life, even if he didn’t get many other cases.
There were a lot of questions that you wanted to ask about why they needed his help so frequently and why he was always so happy to oblige, but you decided not to ask them. After all, you had a strong feeling you didn’t want to know the answer. Besides, you didn’t have many opportunities to ask, considering he avoided talking about work as much as he could when he was with you. But really, the two of you didn’t do much talking at all when you were together.
To be fair, you couldn’t really talk when you were sitting under Junhui’s desk with his cock in your mouth, listening to his sweet whimpers and whines as you got him off. You weren’t sure how you got into the position you were in, really. One moment, you were sitting on his desk, kissing him and occasionally letting your hands wander as he told you how beautiful you looked in between kisses. Next thing you knew, you were climbing under his desk, telling him to be quiet, and wrapping your lips around him.
“Fuck, feels so good,” he whined, gently thrusting into your mouth.
You hummed around him as you sucked him off, loving the sweet little noises that slipped out of his mouth. God, everything about the way he looked and sounded made you want him more. His eyes were shut, and his mouth hung open while he moaned in pleasure. His hands were tangled in your hair, holding you like you were the only thing that he wanted in that moment, and you loved every bit of it.
Your activities were interrupted, however, when the phone on Junhui’s desk started to ring. You stopped what you were doing when you heard him answer and started to crawl out from under his desk. Before you could get very far, though, you looked up at him and noticed that he was staring at you with pleading eyes. When he hung up the phone, you bit your lip and asked, “What’s wrong, baby?”
“Please don’t go,” he mumbled.
“You want me to keep sucking your cock?”
He nodded in response and said, “I don’t think you’d be able to leave without him seeing you, anyway.”
You froze in place and asked, “What do you mean?”
“That was the office receptionist. Yoongi is on his way up.”
“Why the fuck is Yoongi here?”
“Said that he had to talk to me about the election? I don’t know,” he groaned. “I was too focused on what you were doing to pay attention on the conversation.”
You gave him a cocky smirk before asking, “Do you want me to keep going once I’m back under the desk?”
Junhui looked nervous as he answered, “Won’t he notice?”
“Not if I just keep you in my mouth. Would you like that, baby?”
He hesitated before he nodded, and you climbed back under his desk. Right as you took Junhui’s cock in your mouth again, you heard a door open, and an all-too-familiar voice said, “Mr. Wen! It’s good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you too. Please, just call me Junhui.”
“So, Mr. Wen,” Yoongi said, “I just wanted to give you some advice.”
“What kind of advice?” Junhui asked, still struggling to maintain his composure with your mouth around him.
“Well, I know who your friends are, and I know what they do. I also have a strong feeling that your friends are the reason you’re running. So, my advice is this: don’t let them affect how you do your job. Do the right thing, Mr. Wen.”
“I will. Thank you.”
“You’d better. Good luck, and may the best man win.”
“Thank you. That means a lot.”
With that, Yoongi said, “I’m sure that I’ll see you soon.”
“I’m sure I will. Goodbye, Yoongi.”
“Goodbye, Mr. Wen.”
You heard the door shut, and the sound of Yoongi’s footsteps faded down the hall. When you were sure he was gone, you didn’t hesitate at all, swirling your tongue around Junhui’s tip and earning a loud moan from him as he started to thrust into your mouth again. His hands found their way to your hair almost immediately, and with a moan, he said, “’m close.”
You moaned around Junhui’s cock, and that was all it took for him to come undone with a series of soft moans and curses. You stilled around him when his release washed over him, taking care not to overstimulate him as he spilled into your mouth. Then, when you were sure he was done, you carefully took him out of your mouth, looked up at him and swallowed, feeling proud when another high-pitched whine slipped out of his mouth.
With a smile on your face and butterflies in your stomach, you looked up at him and said, “Are you ok, baby?”
“I’m ok. That was just so good,” he mumbled, still struggling to regain his composure.
You laughed softly and said, “Well, how can I not reward my baby for being such a good boy for me?”
Junhui blushed and helped you up before pulling you into a hug, hoping to hide how much he liked it when you called him your baby. But of course, you could see right through him.
While you relaxed in Junhui’s hold, you found yourself dreaming about a day that you could just stay with him instead of having to go home to a marriage that you knew was dead. Still, you weren’t sure if you were ready to walk away from Yoongi just yet, so you decided to wait a little bit longer.
As the election drew nearer, your relationship with Junhui only grew more intense. Initially, you wanted to at least try to pretend that your time with him was just a bit of fun to distract you from your disaster of a marriage and how unhappy you really were. As time went on, though, you found yourself actually looking forward to spending time with Junhui, even if there weren’t plans for sex. You hated to admit it to yourself, but you were falling in love with him.
You finally had to confront the fact that your feelings for Junhui went beyond sexual attraction the day before the election results were to be announced. You’d gone to his house for the day because Yoongi had other plans. He swore he wasn’t out with Miyeon, but you didn’t care anymore. After all, you were too busy enjoying your time doing whatever the hell you wanted with Junhui. You made out, you watched terrible movies, you played board games that neither of you fully understood, and you laid in bed together talking about anything and everything.
Your head was on his chest, and he gently stroked your hair as he asked, “Can I ask you something that might make you mad?”
“If you know that it might make you mad, why are you asking?” you responded, laughing softly.
He sighed and said, “Because I’ve realized some things lately, and I need to know where we stand.”
“Baby, you’re worrying me. What’s up?”
“Would you consider leaving Yoongi?”
You were stunned into silence by his question, unsure of what you could say. On the one hand, all you wanted was to finally get out of your miserable marriage and be with someone that treated you like you actually mattered to him. On the other hand, were you ready to take that step? You’d been with Yoongi for so long at that point, and you were worried about what your family and friends would think if you admitted that your marriage wasn’t as picture-perfect as you made it seem whenever you saw them.
You snapped out of your contemplation when Junhui said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. Don’t worry about it. I just-”
“It’s ok. I’d consider it, but I don’t know if I could go through with it. I love you, but-”
“You do?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“I love you too.” There was a brief silence before Junhui asked, “What does this mean for the future?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s ok. I’ll wait as long as you need and cheer you on until you are.”
“Thank you,” you answered.
After that, Junhui just held you close, each of you taking in the fact that you really admitted that you loved each other.
When the time came for you to go home, you kissed Junhui’s cheek and said, “Thank you for today.”
“It’s no problem, my love.”
And with that, you walked out of Junhui’s house and drove back to your own, dreading the time that you’d have to spend with your husband.
When you got home, Yoongi asked, “How was your day?”
“It was fine,” you answered, upset about having to come home to your husband and missing Junhui more than you should have been.
“I’m glad,” he said, not really paying attention. “Listen, I have some things to take care of tomorrow after the gala. Can you get an Uber home tomorrow night?”
“Of course,” you said, used to his behavior.
“Thank you, my love.”
You wanted to yell at Yoongi not to call you that, but you didn’t. Instead, you plastered a fake grin on your face and said, “No problem, honey.”
For a minute, it looked like Yoongi was going to say something else. Instead, he seemed to snap himself out of it and just smiled. Not wanting to continue the conversation, you went straight to your bedroom, drifting off to sleep and thinking about Junhui.
The election results were planned to be announced at an elaborate gala, which you weren’t exactly looking forward to. You were certain that Yoongi would be paying more attention to Miyeon than you, the dress that he’d bought you for the event was uncomfortable and the exact opposite of the way that you preferred to dress, and you honestly had no idea if you were going to be able to spend any time with Junhui. Regardless, you put on the frumpy black dress and carefully applied your makeup while you waited for Yoongi to finish getting ready.
When your husband finished getting dressed and walked into your living room, he stopped and stared at you with an expression of what could only be described as confusion and guilt. After a brief awkward silence, however, he snapped himself out of it and said, “You look breathtaking tonight, love,” his voice barely above a whisper as he admired you.
“Thank you,” you mumbled, uncomfortable with the sudden display of affection that you’d been denied long enough that it now felt foreign.
After a moment of thought, Yoongi asked, “How about after the gala, we go out and celebrate together. Just you and me. What do you think?”
“I thought you said you were busy after the gala,” you replied matter-of-factly.
That was when Yoongi remembered what he’d told you and sighed, answering, “I can move that.”
“I wouldn’t want you to fall behind. It must be important if you ignored me the entire time you were planning it,” you spat, not thinking about your words or the way you said them.
“Hey, I did not fucking ignore you.”
“Don’t lie to me, Yoongi.”
“Love, can we just talk about this later? We’ll celebrate after the gala.”
“No, we won’t. I made plans since you said that you were busy.”
“Well, move them.”
“No. I’m not going to change my plans because you suddenly feel guilty about not spending enough time with your wife.”
Yoongi went silent after that, ignoring you as the two of you walked to your car and drove to the event. When you actually got to the venue, though, it was like the two of you were completely different people. The scowls that had graced both of your faces in the car turned to smiles so convincing you almost fooled yourself the second the two of you stepped out of the car. Yoongi’s arm wrapped around your waist as he guided you to the entrance. He doted on you as the two of you waited for the event to begin, constantly checking in with you to make sure that you were ok. It was strange, and you didn’t like it.
If the shift in how he treated you had come a few months earlier, before you found out for sure that Yoongi had been sleeping with Miyeon, you would have welcomed it with open arms as a sign that the man you loved still loved you. The problem with that, though, is that he wasn’t the man that you loved anymore. You were just going through the motions until you felt that the time was right for you to finally divorce him.
A few minutes after you arrived with Yoongi, you saw Junhui enter and sit down at a nearby table. As soon as you saw him, you desperately wanted to run to him, pull him into a hug, and kiss him like nothing else mattered. Instead, you stayed right where you were, silently looking forward to the plans you’d made with him for later that night.
You were bored out of your mind for most of the gala. Yoongi once again paid absolutely no attention to you, a sharp contrast to his attempt to pretend he still loved you earlier. Miyeon decided to not only show up at the gala but also spend every moment she wasn’t flirting with the other married men at the event hanging off of your husband’s arm. Your blood was boiling, but you maintained a cool exterior to avoid making a scene at an event that you knew was important to both the man that you loved and the man that you used to love.
When it was finally time to announce the results, you sat up straighter, forced a smile, and clapped as your city’s mayor approached the stage. When he reached the microphone, he said, “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for attending tonight’s gala, held to announce the results of this year’s district attorney election. Before I announce the results, I’d like to take a moment to acknowledge the sitting district attorney, Min Yoongi, and his contribution to our community for the last four years. Thank you.”
Yoongi stood up and waved to the other attendees as they clapped, and you started to feel sick to your stomach. You knew that it was wrong for you to think the way that you did, but you were honestly hoping that Yoongi lost the election. It was petty, and you knew it, but you wanted him to have some kind of consequence for the way that he’d treated you. In your mind, there was no better way to get that than to rip the career that made him so happy he forgot about you right out from under him.
Before you could continue wishing your husband would fail in his career, you were distracted by the mayor starting to speak again. With a clearly practiced fake smile on his face, he said, “Now, for the results of this year’s election. Our district attorney is Wen Junhui.”
When you heard Junhui’s name, you stood and cheered, not caring who stared as you applauded your husband’s loss. Watching Junhui approach the stage, you felt nothing but pride, and as he thanked everyone for attending the gala and voting for him, you couldn’t help but think that it was time to start loving him out loud.
In between Yoongi’s shallow attempts at conversation, you stepped away from your table to find Junhui, weaving your way through the crowd of very intimidating-looking individuals that wanted to congratulate him for his win. When Junhui saw you, though, he pushed his way past all of them to pull you close, whispering, “I’m so happy you’re here.”
“Congratulations, my love,” you said. “I can’t stay, but I wanted you to know how proud I am of you. I love you so much.”
“I love you too. We’re still celebrating together after this, right?”
“Of course,” you answered before you went back to your table
“What were you doing with him?” Yoongi asked, glaring at Junhui.
“Why do you even care? I thought you were too busy with your little girlfriend,” you spat back, not caring that Miyeon seemed to deflate at your words.
“Don’t act like you know what happened.”
“Oh, but I do. I know everything.” Yoongi looked shocked at your admission, and you added, “Did you really think I didn’t?”
“It doesn’t give you the right to start fucking him of all people,” Yoongi said.
“I think it does.”
“Whatever,” Yoongi spat, standing from his seat. “I’m not letting whatever the hell you’re doing go any further.”
The moment Yoongi spotted Junhui, he practically dragged him outside, yelling about how he wasn’t gonna let the younger man take what was rightfully his. Whether Yoongi meant you or his job as district attorney, you didn’t know, but you did know that he was going to get himself in trouble if he didn't calm down.
What happened next was a blur. You tried to talk Yoongi into going back inside, but before you could get the words out, he had Junhui on the ground, throwing punches and yelling about how he wasn’t going to get away with whatever he did. Not knowing what else to do, you ran inside to get help. Initially, you tried to find venue security, but they were nowhere to be found. So instead, you found Junhui’s friends from earlier.
After you explained the situation, Junhui’s “friends” followed you outside, immediately pulling Yoongi off of Junhui. They looked like they wanted to beat your husband to a pulp, but all it took was one look from Junhui for them to back down.
After making sure Junhui wasn't seriously injured, you walked over to Yoongi and said, “What the fuck was that?”
Yoongi answered, “He started it.”
“No, he didn’t. And even if he had, it doesn’t matter. You can’t just start fights in a fucking parking lot, Yoongi.” You paused before you added, “I’m gonna go check on Junhui.”
“Do you really care more about some guy than your own husband?”
“I don’t know. Do you really care more about your secretary than your own wife?” you asked before you walked away to find Junhui.
When you found Junhui, he was talking to the police on the other side of the parking lot. You didn’t hear all of what they said, but you hoped that everything would be over soon.
After Junhui finished speaking to the officer that had shown up during the chaos, he walked up to you and said, “I’m not pressing charges.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to deal with Yoongi any more than I have to,” he answered, looking like it hurt to talk. “Besides, I’m not actually hurt. He’s not as strong as he looks.”
You couldn’t help but laugh as you said, “No, he certainly is not.” After a brief moment of silence, you asked, “Can I go home with you tonight?”
“Of course, sweetheart.”
With that, you helped Junhui to his car, and the two of you went back to his apartment. When you got there, you checked him again, and beyond a split lip and a few bruises that you were positive wouldn’t take long to heal, he was unharmed. Still, much to his frustration, you made him rest, taking care of him until the two of you fell asleep together in his bed.
When you went back home the next day, you found Yoongi in his home office, cleaning it up and gathering the files that would need to go back to city hall before his term officially ended. When he looked up and saw you, he opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, you said, “I want a divorce.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Why, Yoongi? What's the point of staying married if both of us are seeing other people?”
“Do you have any idea how a divorce will make me look?”
“It can't make you look any worse than trying to fight the new DA in a fucking parking lot.”
Yoongi was silent for a minute before he sighed and said, “I'm not signing any divorce papers. Got it?”
Not wanting the argument to escalate, you walked away without another word, choosing to call Junhui and ask if you could go back to his place. He readily agreed, and without even bothering to tell Yoongi, you left.
When you pulled up in front of Junhui’s mansion, he was already outside waiting for you, already looking like he was in less pain than the day before. When you got out of your car, he held his arms out to hug you and asked, “Rough morning?”
“He said he won’t sign the divorce papers. Some bullshit about his image,” you answered, collapsing into Junhui’s arms as you fought back tears. You couldn’t believe that after everything that had happened between the two of you, Yoongi refused to walk away.
“He what?” Junhui asked, his voice laced with thinly veiled rage. But before you could explain further, he said, “Go inside. I’m gonna make some calls, and it’ll all be ok.”
“Do not hurt him,” you said as you let go of Junhui. “Promise me.”
“I promise that I will not hurt him, and I promise that I will not have other people hurt him on my behalf. I’m just gonna call in a few favors.”
“What does that mean?”
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, sweetheart.”
With a sigh, you went inside, and Junhui took out his phone. While you waited for him to make whatever calls he needed to make, you wondered what kind of favors he was owed and how he was going to use them to get Yoongi to agree to divorce you. The more you thought about it, however, the more you realized that you really didn’t want to know.
After what felt like forever, Junhui came inside, and the two of you went up to his room, ready to relax together and forget about Yoongi for a while.
You decided to stay at Junhui’s house for a few more days, occasionally texting Yoongi just to let him know that you were safe. You knew it was kind of ridiculous to update your husband about staying at your lover’s house, but as tired as you were of being married to Yoongi, you knew that you’d feel guilty if you disappeared without a trace.
Eventually, though, you got a call from Yoongi. You answered it, wondering what was wrong, but before you could ask, you heard him say, “Fine. You win. I’ll sign the fucking papers.”
“What?”
“I don’t know what the fuck he did, but I don’t want him doing it anymore. I’ll sign them.”
You were incredibly confused and concerned, but you decided not to question the fact that he changed his mind. Instead, you just said, “Thank you. I’ll call you after I make arrangements with a lawyer,” and hung up.
“Who was that, baby?” Junhui asked, coming back to the bedroom.
“It was Yoongi. He agreed to the divorce.”
“Oh, really?” Junhui said, giving you a knowing smile. “Did he say why?”
“He said that he didn’t know what the fuck you did, but he didn’t want you doing it anymore. What the fuck were those favors?”
“Oh, I just called some friends that are really good at finding information,” he answered matter-of-factly as he carefully climbed into bed next to you.
“Thank you.”
“No problem, my love,” he said, relaxing as you pulled him close. “I just wanna make you happy.”
Thank you everyone for reading! If you liked this one, please make sure to like and reblog!
If you wanna check out my other works, my masterlist can be found here. If you wanna see what I'm working on, my upcoming works list is here. If you'd like to be tagged whenever I upload a new fic, my taglist form is here! You can also send me an ask or dm at any time to be added or removed.
Thank you again for reading, and have a wonderful day!
Word Count: 13,498
Genre: Fluff, smut, slight angst
AU: Non idol AU, pastor!Joshua
Tropes: Strangers to friends to lovers
Rating: Explicit, MINORS DNI!
Warnings: Blasphemy, Jihoon is a toxic and slightly misogynistic asshole but reader dumps his ass I promise, definitely a power imbalance because Joshua is reader's pastor, smut (soft dom!Joshua, unprotected sex, creampie, oral, dry humping, sex in a church closet, a tiny bit of exhibitionism, Joshua has a corruption kink, breeding kink, virgin!reader at the beginning). If you think I missed a warning, please let me know!
Summary: Your church's new pastor teaches you about more than faith.
A/N: Shout out to the absolutely wonderful @okiedokrie-main, @nothoughtsjustfic, @effervescentorbs, @ohnoitsanotaku, @themoonlightfae, and @spacequokka for listening to me talk about this fic and helping me with ideas during the very long brainstorming and writing process! I love you guys so much.
And in case anyone was wondering, all of the quoted Bible verses are from the New Living Translation.
Taglist: @xomakara, @chugging-antiseptic-dye, @notyourjaem, @ikeukiss, @shadowkoo, @my-neurodivergent-world, @1800dojaejung, @aeristudios, @thestraybunny, @mylovesstuffs, @be-my-sunrise
Send me an ask or dm to be added or removed!
Fic is under the cut.
You loved your parents dearly, but you hated attending their church. Not because you weren’t a believer, and not because you disliked church in general, but because you’d completely lost any and all respect you ever had for the church’s head pastor. Reverend Yoon had a good reputation in your hometown, and most of the other members of the congregation adored him, but you hadn’t felt the same for a long time. After all, he seemed to have a very superficial view of faith, putting more emphasis on following rules than actually loving and trusting God in his sermons.
You were actually considering finding a new church to attend when you found out that Reverend Yoon was leaving. On a seemingly random Sunday, he told everyone in the congregation that God was calling him to work as a missionary, but the way he fidgeted as he spoke and refused to meet anyone’s eyes when they approached him after service told you that there was probably more to the story than he was letting on. Regardless of the reason, however, you were relieved that he was leaving.
The following Sunday, you met Reverend Yoon’s replacement. As you walked into the church with your parents and Jihoon, your longtime boyfriend, you noticed a man that you hadn’t seen before standing at the front of the room. As you watched him speak with church leaders whose names you’d stopped caring to remember, you started to wonder what this new pastor was like, so you decided to introduce yourself. Before you could, though, Jihoon pulled you to your seat, and service begain.
With a confidence that you could only wish you had, the man you’d noticed when you walked in approached the pulpit and said, “Hello, everyone. I’m Reverend Hong, and starting today, I’ll be taking Reverend Yoon’s place as he moves on to have new experiences and grow in his faith. Before we begin with the announcements and opening prayer, however, I want to say thank you. Thank you, everyone, for attending today and giving me a chance.”
Jihoon seemed unimpressed by the introduction, but you were moved by the way Reverend Hong spoke immediately. Even his simple introduction seemed to have more passion than an entire sermon delivered by Reverend Yoon, and you felt oddly hopeful. It was too soon to say for sure, but you were already considering continuing to attend services where you were rather than searching for a new church like you’d originally planned.
For the most part, the rest of the service was no different from what you were used to. The worship team sang various Christian songs that you’d heard on the radio, there were prayers for members of the congregation that had been struggling, and shiny offering plates were passed along each row of seats so that everyone in the congregation could give money to the church. When Reverend Hong started his sermon, however, you realized that he really was nothing like Reverend Yoon.
Your eyes were fixed on Reverend Hong from the moment he stepped closer to the pulpit and said, “Hello again, everyone. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for coming today. It is such a joy to be here with all of you to worship God.” He paused for a moment to collect himself before he continued, “Today, I wanted to talk a bit about new beginnings. Not just because today marks the beginning of my time as head pastor at this church, but also because the past few months have been a time of change for everyone. As we leave the previous year behind and start anew, it’s important to remember to trust God in all of our endeavors. New beginnings may seem frightening, but God will always have our backs, no matter how difficult life gets. As the book of Psalms says, ‘The Lord is a shelter for the oppressed, a refuge in times of trouble.’”
From the moment that Reverend Hong began to speak, you felt a wave of peace wash over you that you weren’t really used to. Sure, you considered yourself a devout Christian, but that was because of the time that you’d spent studying the Bible on your own time. You’d never been moved by a sermon before, especially so early. You were pleasantly surprised by your church’s new pastor once again.
As Reverend Hong continued to speak about trusting God in uncertain times and the joy that can come from new beginnings despite their difficulties, you continued to find yourself unusually emotional. You even started to cry at one point, something that had never happened during a church service before. As the sermon concluded with another Bible verse, you realized that you’d completely changed your mind about finding a new church.
When service was over, you finally got the chance to introduce yourself to Reverend Hong. He had a crowd of people around him that wanted to do the exact same thing, though, so you had to wait longer than you would have liked. Still, you were excited to finally speak to the man that made you tear up during a sermon for the first time in your life.
When the crowd started to disperse, satisfied with their first impressions of the new pastor, you moved closer and introduced yourself.
“It’s lovely to meet you,” Reverend Hong responded as he reached his hand out for you to shake. “What did you think of today’s sermon?”
You shook his hand as you said, “I thought that it was beautiful. Today was actually the first time I’ve ever been moved to tears during a sermon.”
“Really?”
You nodded and continued, “Your passion when you speak about God is admirable.”
“Thank you very much.”
“I’m really looking forward to next week’s sermon,” you said with a grin.
“Thank you. I’m so happy to hear that.”
You heard Jihoon call your name, and that was when you said, “I have to go now, but it was wonderful to meet you. Have a blessed day!”
“I hope you have a blessed day, as well.”
You walked away from Reverend Hong to find your boyfriend, who was standing by the entrance looking slightly annoyed. When you reached him, you asked, “Is everything ok?”
“Everything is fine, dear,” Jihoon answered, though you knew he was lying.
“Are you ready to go?” you asked. He nodded, and you took his hand and walked out of the church.
Once you and Jihoon were in the car, he sighed and asked, “So, what do you think of Reverend Hong?”
“I’m not sure yet,” you answered. That was a lie, but Jihoon didn’t need to know that just yet.
“Really? You seemed to like him quite a bit.”
“I mean, he’s passionate when he speaks, and I admire that.”
He laughed softly and said, “I don’t know if I’d describe him as passionate. Melodramatic seems like a better word.”
You went quiet after that, and Jihoon continued to talk about how Reverend Hong spoke with too much emotion and didn’t seem to know the Bible as well as Reverend Yoon did. You thought that Jihoon was judging Reverend Hong far too harshly, though, especially because he’d only heard one sermon from the new pastor. However, you didn’t share your thoughts with your boyfriend. After all, what was the point of speaking if you knew he wouldn’t listen?
When Jihoon pulled up to your apartment building, you leaned over to kiss his cheek, but before you could, he moved away and said, “I’ll text you when I get home.”
“Ok, I love you.”
Jihoon didn’t respond, so you got out of the car and went into your apartment. As you went about the rest of your day, you wondered what you’d done wrong this time for your boyfriend to move away from you when you tried to do something as simple as kissing his cheek. And for him to refuse to say that he loved you? You were devastated.
It was strange, really. When you and Jihoon first started seeing each other, he was one of the most affectionate men that you’d ever met. He never went a day without telling you just how lucky he was to have you, he always had his arms around you, and he got excited to spend time with you. Now, he still acted like that sometimes, like when he wanted something from you or when you acted the way he thought a woman of God was “supposed to act,” but for the most part, you were lucky if he told you that he loved you back. He never initiated physical contact with you, and half the time, he moved away if you tried to. Attending church together and going on dates felt more like a formality than something that was done because he wanted to see you.
You loved Jihoon dearly, you really did, but you didn’t know if you could continue with a relationship where you felt like you had to constantly make yourself smaller to be treated like you were worthy of love.
After that first sermon, your admiration for Reverend Hong only grew. Each week during Sunday service, he spoke with such love and passion, whether he was advising against sinful behavior or reminding the congregation of God’s love for them. And almost every time, he brought you to tears as you pondered his sermons and noticed feelings that you didn’t quite have a name for yet blossoming in your chest.
As your respect for Reverend Hong grew, however, your relationship with Jihoon got worse. On top of his prior behavior, he was now accusing you of spending too much time with other men, even complaining about Reverend Hong whenever you spoke to him after service.
“I’m just saying, it’s suspicious that you talk to him every week after service.”
“Why is it suspicious that I want to talk to my pastor?”
“You never used to stay to speak to Reverend Yoon after service.”
“Reverend Yoon made me uncomfortable and cared too much about enforcing rules he himself didn’t follow to encourage a connection with God the way Reverend Hong does.”
“I liked Reverend Yoon,” Jihoon mumbled in response.
“That’s not the point,” you spat. “The point is that it’s not wrong for me to want to speak to my pastor.”
Jihoon sighed and said, “You know what, I’m going home.”
“Fine,” you said as Jihoon left.
Once you heard Jihoon pull away, you plopped onto your couch and sighed. He’d been so controlling lately, you didn’t think that you wanted to be with him anymore. The realization hit you like a brick, but once you had the thought, it wouldn’t leave your mind. So, you did what you always did. You prayed, and when you finally stood up to go about the rest of your day, you knew exactly what you needed to do.
The decision to leave Jihoon hadn’t been an easy one to make, but it was what you knew needed to happen. The only problem was that you didn’t know how, so you decided to get some advice after church. You arrived for service with your parents and boyfriend like usual, but instead of going right to your seat, you went to the front of the church to find Reverend Hong. When he saw you, he smiled and said, “Hi! How are you today?”
“I’m doing well, Reverend. Thank you for asking,” you answered as you tried to maintain your composure. “Can I speak to you about something after service?”
“Of course. Is everything alright?”
“Everything is fine. I just need some guidance on a personal matter.”
“I understand. Come see me after service, and we’ll pray together. See what God calls you to do after that. Then, we’ll see when we can discuss further if you need additional advice.”
“Wonderful. Thank you so much, Reverend.”
“It’s no problem.”
“I still appreciate it,” you replied before leaving to find Jihoon.
When you found your boyfriend and sat down next to him, you noticed that he seemed frustrated. You wanted to ask him why, but before you could, the service began, so you decided to talk to him after you saw Reverend Hong. In the meantime, you would enjoy another service.
After the sermon and closing prayer, you asked Jihoon to wait for you outside the church. He agreed, and you approached Reverend Hong. There were a number of people already speaking to him, so you waited patiently and thought about how you wanted to approach the conversation when you asked him for advice. You didn’t want to sound disrespectful, but you also knew that downplaying the way that Jihoon treated you wouldn’t help you, so you chose to just be honest.
You were so focused on deciding what to say, you didn’t hear Reverend Hong calling your name at first. You didn’t even realize he was trying to get your attention until you felt a hand on your shoulder. You jumped at the sudden contact, and Reverend Hong said, “I’m so sorry I startled you. Are you alright? You seemed like your mind was elsewhere.”
“I’m ok, Reverend. I was a bit lost in thought; I’m sorry I didn’t notice that you were trying to get my attention.”
“It’s alright. Now, what did you want to talk about?”
With a sigh, you quietly answered, “I’ve been struggling a bit with my relationship. I love my boyfriend, but he doesn’t act like he loves me unless I’m doing something that benefits him or behaving the way that he thinks that I should.” It was a lie at that point to say that you loved Jihoon, but you didn’t think Reverend Hong needed to know that.
“What do you mean by ‘the way he thinks that you should?’”
“Well, there are times that he tells me I’m not acting like a godly woman, and if I don’t meet his standards, he acts like we aren’t even together. The way he treats me is so confusing.”
Reverend Hong looked like he was troubled by your admission, but he quickly shook his head and changed his expression to a soft smile before he said, “Have you ever tried to talk to him about the way that he treats you?”
You nodded and said, “He doesn’t listen, but I have tried. I think I need to leave him, but I don’t know how to start the conversation.”
“Well, that’s what we’ll pray about, then. Would that be ok?” he asked. You nodded, and he took your hands in his and bowed his head. You did the same, and he started to pray that God would give you the strength to communicate your needs and walk away from a relationship that was hurting you.
Once Reverend Hong was done praying, you looked up at him and smiled before you said, “Thank you.”
“No problem. Let me know how the conversation goes, and if you need anything else, don’t hesitate to come find me.”
“I appreciate that more than you know, Reverend. Have a blessed day.”
You left the sanctuary to look for Jihoon, and when you found him, he was laughing and talking with his best friend, Seokmin. Your boyfriend looked like he didn’t have a care in the world, and you almost felt guilty for interrupting his time with his friend. So, you waited for them to notice you instead of saying something. You didn’t have to wait long though, since shortly after you made your way over, Jihoon looked at you with a smile and said, “Hi, honey. Are you ok?”
“I’m ok. I just wanted to talk to people before we left.”
“Is everything ok? You look upset,” Seokmin asked.
You smiled at your boyfriend’s friend and said, “I’m ok, ‘Min. I just wanted to ask Reverend Hong to pray with me about something.”
Your boyfriend soured immediately at the mention of Reverend Hong and said, “I think we should go. Are you ready, honey?” You nodded, and he turned to his friend and said, “Bye, Seokmin.”
“Bye, guys!” Seokmin replied with a smile. You waved in response, and Jihoon practically dragged you out of the church and into his car.
Once you were in the car, Jihoon asked, “Why the hell did you go to Reverend Hong for advice and not me?”
“I was asking him for advice because there’s something that I wanted to talk to you about, but I didn’t know how to talk to you about it.”
“What is it?”
With a sigh, you answered, “The way you treat me hurts a lot. It’s like you only love me when I’m acting the way that you want me to.”
Jihoon was quiet for a minute before he answered, “That’s not true.”
“Then I wish you wouldn’t act like it,” you mumbled.
“What was that?”
“Then I wish you wouldn’t act like it,” you repeated, slightly louder this time.
“How do I act like it?”
“I try to kiss your cheek, and you move away from me. I tell you that I love you, and you’re silent in response. You tell me what to do, what to say, and how to act, and if I don’t meet those standards, it’s like I’m nothing to you. I love you, but I’m tired.”
“And you chose to handle those feelings by going to someone else first and then telling me that there was a problem?”
“Jihoon, what is with you? I asked someone that I respect for advice because I wanted this conversation to be productive.”
“Do you respect him more than you respect me?”
With a sigh, you answered, “No.”
“Then don’t act like you do.”
“You know what? I’m just gonna say it. I’m done. We’re over.”
“Really? Because I’m not doing exactly what you want? In a true Biblical relationship, the-”
“Jihoon, I don’t want to hear it. We’re done.”
Just as you said the words, Jihoon arrived at your apartment. So, you got out of his car, went inside, and immediately blocked his number. Then, you curled up in a ball on your couch and cried. Sure, you knew that your relationship with Jihoon was long over by the time you actually talked to him, but the realization that he would never love you the way you used to love him was still painful.
The following Sunday, you arrived at church alone and once again approached Reverend Hong before service finding your seat. When he saw you, he smiled and said, “Hi! How are you doing today?”
You felt like you were about to break down in tears, but you still forced a half smile and said, “I’m doing ok. Thank you for asking, Reverend. Would it be alright to speak with you again after service today?”
“Of course. Is it related to what we prayed about last week?”
You nodded and said, “The conversation didn’t go as well as I would have hoped.”
Reverend Hong put his hand on your shoulder and said, “I’m sorry to hear that. I’m happy to help however you need me to.”
“Thank you. I should go find my seat now, but I’ll see you after service.”
You quickly turned to find your seat, and the service began. You honestly didn’t pay attention through most of it, but you immediately perked up when Reverend Hong said, “Hello, everyone. I’d like to begin today’s sermon by speaking to the brokenhearted among us. In Psalm 34, verse 18, the Bible says, ‘The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.’ Trust me when I say that I know it can be difficult, but it’s important to remember that God is always with us, no matter how much pain we’re in. Trust Him and allow Him to carry your burdens.”
You started to tear up as he spoke, and you thought about what he said through the lens of your own recent experiences. You thought about how God had always gotten you through challenging times in your life, and you found peace in the knowledge that He could and would do it again. Sure, you were hurting, but you knew that you would heal. You always did.
When the service was over, you approached Reverend Hong and waited for him to finish talking to other members of the church that had gotten to him before you. As you waited, you couldn’t help but notice the kind way that he spoke to everyone that approached him and the gentle smile on his face as he answered questions and gave advice like it was his highest calling. When it was your turn, you moved closer to him and said, “Hello, Reverend. Thank you for speaking with me today.”
“You’re welcome. How did everything go? Did you talk to your boyfriend?”
“Yes, and we broke up,” you answered, fighting back tears as you spoke.
“I’m so sorry to hear that. Would you like to pray together?” he asked. You nodded, and he took your hands in his before he prayed for God to guide you in your healing journey and send you someone that would treat you with love and respect when the time was right, if that was what you wanted. After he ended the prayer, he let go of your hands and looked at you before he said, “If you need anything at all, please don’t hesitate to reach out. I’m happy to help you in whatever way I can.”
“Thank you, Reverend. That means a lot to me.”
“It’s no problem at all.”
There was a brief moment of silence before you asked, “Would it be possible to speak about this more another time? There are some specific things that I’m struggling with, but I don’t want them to be overheard.”
“Of course. I’m free this Saturday if that works for you.”
“It does.”
After that, the two of you discussed a time to meet at his apartment and exchanged numbers. Then he texted you his address before he said, “I hope that you find the peace and healing that you need.”
“Thank you so much, Reverend. Have a wonderful day.”
After the conversation with Reverend Hong, you found that you already felt better about the end of your relationship with Jihoon. Sure, you still sort of missed him, but you knew that in the end, everything would be ok. After all, when you left the church and got back to your apartment, you felt noticeably lighter, and you silently thanked God for sending Reverend Hong to your church.
As the week went by, you realized that you were more nervous than you thought you would be to actually go to Reverend Hong’s house. Sure, you knew that he just wanted to help you, but you couldn’t shake the anxiety that bubbled up if you thought about the meeting for too long. It was strange, really. You never felt nervous to see or speak to him at church. But, in the end, you chalked your nerves up to the anxiety that always comes with visiting someone’s home for the first time and decided to ignore it as much as you could.
When Saturday finally arrived, you felt more nervous than you’d been all week. Despite your anxiety, however, you tried to be hopeful that talking to Reverend Hong would help you feel better. After all, it was nice to have someone in your corner.
When you were ready to leave, you put the address that Reverend Hong had given you the previous Sunday into your phone’s GPS and drove to his apartment. Once you arrived, you softly knocked on the door, and he opened it with a smile before he said, “Hi. How are you doing today?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure, Reverend. How are you?”
“Please, there’s no need to be so formal when we’re not at the church. Call me Joshua.” There was a brief awkward silence before he said, “Come on in,” and moved out of the doorway.
When you walked into Joshua’s apartment, you couldn’t help but notice how cozy everything was. Bookshelves filled with different versions of the Bible as well as various comic books and novels that you didn’t recognize lined the living room. The couch looked soft and inviting, the deep brown color reminding you of coffee. Everything about it made you feel at home.
You were so distracted by your admiration of Joshua’s space that you didn’t realize he was speaking until he tapped your shoulder and asked, “Is everything ok?”
You jumped at the sudden contact and answered, “I’m fine. I was just admiring the way you’ve decorated. The whole place feels so cozy and inviting.”
“Thank you. Would you like to sit?” You nodded, and he led you to the couch before he added, “So, what’s been going on?”
With a sigh, you answered, “I just don’t understand what’s wrong with me.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Well, every relationship I’ve ever had has gone downhill at some point. When I was in high school, it was usually because I wasn’t interested in… certain activities,” you replied, hesitating when you remembered the boys you’d casually dated in high school. “Then, I started seeing Jihoon about a year and a half ago, and everything was perfect. At least, it was for the first few months.”
“What happened with Jihoon?”
With a sigh, you explained every detail of your relationship that you had hesitated to tell him before. You started with how sweet he was when the two of you first started dating and ended with how he didn’t even treat you like a friend anymore after a while, much less his girlfriend. But you noticed Joshua’s expression shifting as you spoke, so you stopped yourself to say, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overshare.”
“No, I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve any of that. Especially from someone that claimed to love you.”
“I just don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”
“I don’t think you did anything wrong. I think the only thing ‘wrong’ is your taste in men,” he said with a laugh.
You sighed and responded, “I guess you’re right. I don’t know what to do about that, though.”
“Well, we could start by praying, if you’d like.”
You smiled softly and said, “That sounds lovely.”
With that, Joshua took your hands in his and prayed that God would guide you in the right direction and help you find a man that would treat you with love and respect, if you wanted a relationship. Once the prayer ended, he turned to you and asked, “Do you feel better?”
You nodded and said, “Thank you.”
“There’s no need to thank me. It’s my job as a pastor to provide support when someone in my congregation needs it.”
“That doesn’t mean that I can’t show appreciation.”
“I guess you’re right,” he said with a gentle smile. After a brief silence, he added, “I could also give you a few Bible verses that I think would help you, if you’d like.”
“I’d love that.”
“Wait here.”
You were puzzled when Joshua stood up and left the room, but when he came back with 2 small pieces of paper and a pen, you realized he was probably writing down the verses for you. Your guess was confirmed when you saw him pull one of the many Bibles that he owned off of a bookshelf and open it to a seemingly random page. After that, he wrote something down, flipped to another page, and started writing again. After both verses were written down, he handed you both sheets of paper. You carefully took them from him, and when you looked at the first one, you saw the following written in the most elegant handwriting you’d ever seen:
“Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud or rude. It does not demand its own way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged. It does not rejoice about injustice, but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance.
1 Corinthians 13:4-7”
You very carefully folded the first piece of paper and put it into your pocket before turning your attention to the second. The writing on the second piece of paper said:
“Two people are better off than one, for they can help each other succeed. If one person falls, the other can reach out and help. But someone who falls alone is in real trouble.
Ecclesiastes 4:9-10”
You looked back up at Joshua, and he smiled before he said, “I thought that those two verses specifically would be good reminders of what to look for in a partner. Someone that truly treats you like they love you and helps you when you need someone to lean on is more valuable than gold, in my opinion.”
“Those are definitely good qualities to look for.”
There was a brief but comfortable silence before Joshua asked, “Would you like to stay for dinner tonight? I’m not having anything fancy, just leftovers from last night, but you seem like you could use the company.”
“Thank you. Dinner sounds wonderful.”
With that, Joshua stood up and left his living room to reheat dinner for the two of you. While you waited, you thought about the verses that you’d been given, and you did find some comfort when you felt the two small pieces of paper in your pocket.
You were pulled out of your thoughts by Joshua’s voice asking, “Are you ready to eat?” You nodded, and he added, “Come with me,” gesturing for you to follow him into the dining room.
While the two of you ate together, you discussed your personal histories with your faith, and every minute only increased your respect for Joshua. He was clearly a man of God, and you were grateful that you had a leader like him in your community. As he shared the story of how he decided to go into ministry, you couldn’t help but get the slightest bit emotional.
Every minute of your conversation made you feel safer with Joshua. He seemed to hang onto every word as you told stories from your childhood and teenage years that solidified your faith in God, and after a conversation about your favorite stories from the Bible, he smiled and said, “You really know what you’re talking about.”
“Thank you. That means a lot, coming from you.”
The two of you continued to talk well into the night, but eventually, you did have to leave. After all, you would need to be awake at a reasonable hour the next morning so that you could get ready for church. So, after you thanked Joshua for having you in his home, you drove back to your apartment, once again silently thanking God for sending a man like Joshua to your community.
For the next several months after that first visit, you and Joshua met regularly, either at your apartment or his, to read from the Bible together and discuss whatever the subject of his sermon was that Sunday. Sure, you didn’t necessarily need his advice on anything, but you enjoyed hearing his perspective, and having something besides church to look forward to on weekends really helped your mood.
As time went on, however, you found yourself struggling to pay attention during your discussions. Instead of thinking about the words that Joshua said, you found yourself thinking about the way his voice sounded and how attractive he looked when he was focused on finding a specific passage from the Bible. You spent more time than you wanted to admit thinking about how it would feel for him to kiss you, to hold you, and to take you to places you’d never been before.
You knew that it was wrong to think the way you did, especially about your pastor, but you just couldn’t seem to stop yourself. So, you decided to pray. Every night, you begged God to help you figure out a way to get the inappropriate thoughts out of your mind, and every day, you realized that the answer to your prayer was a firm “no” for reasons you didn’t understand.
Since prayer didn’t help in the way that you’d hoped it would, you decided to try reading from your Bible more. Every day, you made time for personal Bible study, and while you were actively studying, you were able to focus on something other than the sinful thoughts of Joshua that plagued your every other waking moment. As soon as you were done, though, the thoughts would return, and you’d go right back to feeling hopeless and guilty.
Not knowing what else to do, you decided to call Joshua and ask him if you could come over the next time he wasn’t busy for some advice on a personal matter. He happily agreed, and you thanked him before you hung up the phone, ready to face the situation head-on.
The agreed-upon day finally came, and you felt like you were going to cry for the entire drive to Joshua’s apartment. Still, you knew that you had to go. After all, you couldn’t get the advice that you needed from him if you didn’t ask in the first place. So, with a deep breath, you knocked on the door. A few seconds later, he opened the door and smiled before he said, “Lovely to see you! How are you today?”
“I’ve been better. Can I come in?”
“Of course.” Joshua stepped out of the way long enough for you to step into his apartment, and once you were inside and the door was shut, he asked, “What’s wrong? You seem upset.”
“Before I actually tell you what’s going on, I just want to say that I am so, so sorry.”
“Listen to me. Whatever it is, I’m here to provide support and guidance,” he said as he took a seat on his couch and patted the spot next to him. “Now, what’s troubling you?”
You sat on the couch next to him, and your heart started to race. Whether it was due to attraction or anxiety, you had no idea. Still, you tried to take deep breaths to calm down before you looked at him and said, “I’ve been struggling with inappropriate thoughts lately.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that. Why are you apologizing to me?”
You really wanted to leave and never face Joshua again, but you’d come too far to go back. So, with another deep breath, you added, “They’re about you.” His eyes widened at your admission, and you said, “I’m sorry, I know that it’s-”
Joshua softened when he heard your apology and said, “Sweetheart, listen to me. Ok?” The pet name took you by surprise, but you still nodded, and he continued, “There is nothing wrong with the way you feel. It’s normal to think that way about someone.”
Quietly, you asked, “Are you mad at me?”
“Not at all. Can I admit something to you too?”
“What is it?”
“I think about you the same way.”
“Really?”
“Of course, sweetpea. How could I not?”
“I don’t know. I just felt bad about thinking about you in that way. Especially because the thoughts usually happen during our Bible studies.”
“My dear, there’s nothing to feel bad about. If God didn’t want us to feel attracted to people, He wouldn’t have given us the ability to feel attraction in the first place. It’s ok.”
You relaxed significantly when Joshua reassured you and said, “Thank you for not judging me or telling me that I’m wrong.”
“I’ll never judge you, sweetheart,” Joshua said as he placed his hand on your shoulder. You opened your mouth to say something in response, but in the end, you decided against it. He must have noticed because he added, “What’s on your mind?”
“I was thinking about kissing you again,” you mumbled.
“Again?” Joshua asked, clearly enjoying how embarrassed you felt.
You nodded and quietly answered, “I daydream about it sometimes.”
“Well, why don’t we make those daydreams a reality?”
You nodded, and he leaned closer to you. You leaned in too, and before you knew it, your lips met his. The kiss was soft at first, with neither of you sure how far you should go, but in a matter of minutes, the air in the room shifted. The way he kissed you started to feel hungry, for lack of a better way to describe it. You knew that you probably should have been ashamed of the way you felt as he kissed you, but you weren’t. Instead, all you could think about was how good his lips felt against yours and how badly you wanted the moment to last forever.
At some point, Joshua pulled away to give you a chance to breathe. As you caught your breath, he looked at you with something you couldn’t quite identify in his eyes and asked, “Can we try something, angel?”
“What is it?”
“Sit on my lap.”
You hesitantly did as you were told, and you felt something unfamiliar rubbing against you. You weren’t upset, though, and based on the sigh that slipped from Joshua’s mouth as you settled into a comfortable position on top of him, he wasn’t either.
Once you were settled, he looked up at you and asked, “Do you trust me?”
“Of course I do.”
“Then will you let me help you?”
“What do you mean? I thought that you said that it’s normal to feel this way.”
“It absolutely is normal, sweetheart. I just meant that I could help you get some relief if you’d like.”
You thought about what he said for a moment before you said, “Ok.”
Joshua smiled at you and placed his hands on your hips. Then, he asked, “Are you sure that you want to do this?”
With a sigh, you nodded and said, “I’m sure. I trust you.”
“Then can you start moving your hips for me?”
You slowly started to move back and forth, with Joshua’s hands on your hips guiding you and setting a slow but steady pace. The feeling between your legs as you moved was unfamiliar, but you loved it. It was a kind of pleasure that you’d never experienced before, and as you started to lose yourself in that pleasure, you couldn’t help but wonder if Joshua would help you experience it again.
Shortly after you started, a soft moan slipped out of your mouth, and you abruptly stopped and said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”
“Don’t apologize. It’s ok. I promise. It felt good, right?” You nodded, and he said, “Keep going, sweetpea. I wanna hear more of those sweet little sounds.”
Hesitantly, you did as you were told. In a matter of minutes, though, your hesitation melted away, and the only thing left was pleasure. As you rocked your hips back and forth, Joshua bucked his hips up to meet yours, groaning softly and whispering soft praises into your ear.
“You look so pretty on top of me, angel,” he said with a sigh. “I wish you could see just how beautiful you are.”
You wanted to be embarrassed by the way your body reacted to his words, but you didn’t care nearly enough about what you should have been feeling to be ashamed. All you cared about was how good Joshua made you feel and how happy you were that he thought about you the same way you thought about him. You were also more relieved than you could put into words that he didn’t think that you were wrong for thinking about him that way like you’d expected him to.
As you continued to rock your hips back and forth, an unfamiliar feeling started to build in the pit of your stomach. You wanted to ask Joshua what the feeling was and what to do about it, but before you could get the words out, your whole body tensed as a wave of unbelievable pleasure washed over you, loud moans falling from your lips as you lost yourself in the feeling.
As you caught your breath, you found yourself thinking about just how badly you wanted to do the things that you just did again and again. The desire that had taken center stage in your mind was still pretty new to you, and you were certain that if you were of a clearer mind you’d be ashamed of yourself, but you already found yourself addicted to the pleasure that Joshua gave you.
You snapped out of your thoughts when Joshua said, “Hey, stay with me, baby. Are you ok?”
“I’m ok. I was just thinking.”
“What’s on your mind?”
“I really wanna do that again.”
With a soft smile, Joshua cupped your face in his hands and kissed you again. Without meaning to, you started to move your hips back and forth again, and he pulled away just long enough to say, “Calm down, sweetheart. Plenty of time for more of that later. But first, there’s something else that I’d like to try. Would that be ok?” You nodded, and he added, “I want you to get on your knees for me, angel.”
You scrambled to follow his instructions before you looked up at him and asked, “What do you want me to do?”
“Well, how do you feel about sucking my cock?”
Suddenly feeling shy, you looked down and mumbled, “I’ve never done that before.”
“I know, dove. That’s why I’m going to teach you how, as long as you want me to.” You hesitated to respond to that, though, so he placed his hand under your chin and lifted your face so that the two of you were making eye contact again before he asked, “Do you want me to?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Are you sure, dove? We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
With a deep breath, you answered, “I’m sure. I want to do this with you. I trust you.”
“Promise me that you’d tell me if you didn’t want it.”
“I promise.”
“Good girl.”
Joshua’s words and the sweet way that he said them made you feel giddy in a way that you weren’t used to, and it made you want nothing more than to make him happy. Sure, you were nervous, but you meant it when you said that you trusted him, so you were happy to do whatever he asked, especially if you could make him feel the way that he’d made you feel.
With a loving smile on his face, he gestured to his pants and said, “Go ahead and unbutton these, dove.”
You did as you were told, and he stood up to fully remove the pesky clothing. When you finally saw him bare from the waist down, you were hit with a fresh wave of nervousness, but the same desire that had gotten you to this point was what helped you move past it. With a flirty smile, you looked up at Joshua again and asked, “What should I do now?”
“Just slowly take it into your mouth, angel.” Slowly, you wrapped your lips around him, and he added, “Good girl. Now slowly move your head up and down.”
You happily did as you were told, wanting nothing more in that moment than to please Joshua. As you bobbed your head, you found yourself struggling to not gag, but you were willing to fight the feeling for as long as you could. Especially with the sweet moans and grunts that fell from Joshua’s lips as he told you how good your lips felt around him.
“Fuck, just like that, baby. You’re doing so good for me,” he groaned as he started to gently thrust into your mouth.
Of course, as soon as you started to wonder what else was going to happen, Joshua groaned and said, “I’m close, dove.”
You briefly considered stopping and asking Joshua what to do, but before you could, he grabbed your head and held you in place while a warm, slightly bitter fluid filled your mouth, and a series of loud moans and curses fell from his. Once you were sure that it had stopped, you looked up at him as if to ask what to do next. Noticing the confusion on your face, he took a deep breath and said, “Swallow it, baby.”
You once again did what you were told, took a series of deep breaths, and said, “That was fun.”
After Joshua caught his breath, he carefully helped you up and said, “Come here, angel.” Once you were standing again, he immediately pulled you into a hug and added, “Can I admit something else?”
“Of course. Anything.”
“I really want more than this.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that I want more from this, from you, than just ‘finding relief.’ I want an actual relationship with you.”
You lit up at his words and asked, “You do?”
“Of course I do, baby. I wouldn’t have done those things with you if I didn’t want something more.”
You were quiet for a minute before you asked, “Does this mean that we’re together now?”
“Only if you want it to.”
“I really do.”
“Then yes, it does.”
You smiled and kissed him again, elated that your discussion with him had gone better than you ever could have hoped. When you pulled away, you smiled and said, “Today has been a lot of fun.”
“I’m happy to hear that, angel.” There was a moment of silence before Joshua added, “Are you feeling ok? Regarding everything that we did earlier, I mean.”
You nodded and said, “I was definitely nervous, but I loved every second of it. Honestly, I kind of want to do it again.”
Joshua laughed softly before he responded, “As fun as that sounds, I don’t think it’s a good idea.” You pouted, and he added, “I just don’t want you to get overwhelmed, dove.”
You were still disappointed, but you understood. So, you said, “Ok. Thank you for looking out for me,” and pulled him into a hug.
“I’ll always look out for you, sweetheart.”
There was a brief moment of silence before you asked, “Can we cuddle?”
“Of course, baby,” he answered. “Do you wanna stay here and sit on the couch or go lie in bed?”
You hesitated before you responded, “Bed?”
“Ok. Come with me.”
Joshua let go of you briefly, and you opened your mouth to complain, but you changed your mind when he took your hand to lead you to his bedroom. With a smile, you said, “Your room looks so cozy.”
“Thanks,” he responded with a shy smile before lying down on his bed. Once he was settled, he reached his arm out to pull you into bed with him, and you laughed as you landed next to him. When he turned to see you staring at him with a gentle smile on your face, still laughing softly, the thought entered his mind that your laughter was even more beautiful than your moans, if that was even possible.
With his own dopey grin, he said, “Come here, baby,” and held his arms out to you. You moved closer, and he wrapped his arms around you while you put your head on his chest. Once you were settled, he asked, “Is this what you wanted, dove?”
You nodded and said, “This is nice.”
“Good. That was the goal.”
While you relaxed in Joshua’s arms, the two of you talked and got to know each other better. While you talked, you found yourself feeling tired, and you knew that you would probably need to go home soon. Almost immediately after you had that thought, however, you fell asleep.
The next morning, you panicked when you noticed that there was another person in your bed. You briefly relaxed when you rolled over and realized that you were lying next to Joshua, but once you started to remember the events of the day before, you panicked all over again. You rushed to get out of bed, but before you could get very far, Joshua pulled you closer before he said, “Just five more minutes, baby. Please?”
“But I need to go. I-”
“Where do you have to go?”
You hesitated before you answered, “Well, nowhere today, but I’ve never-”
Joshua could tell that you were stressed, so he started to rub your back and said, “Baby, it’s ok. Deep breaths, ok?”
You did what he asked before you said, “I’ve never spent the night at a boyfriend’s place before. I swear that I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I’m so sorry.”
“Angel, there is nothing to apologize for. I kind of figured that you didn’t mean to fall asleep. It was cute, though.”
Surprised by the compliment, you asked, “Really?”
“Of course. Everything you do is cute.”
You pouted in response to the compliment and responded, “Well you’re cuter.”
“Do you really wanna play that game with me, baby?” You went quiet after that, and he laughed softly before he added, “I love you.”
You were surprised that Joshua said that he loved you so soon, but you couldn’t really say that you were upset. After all, the way you felt about Joshua was already so much more intense than anything you’d ever felt for another person before. So, you reached out to play with his hair as you said, “I love you too.”
A few weeks after you and Joshua made your relationship official, the two of you planned for him to show up at your apartment early so that the two of you could spend some extra time together before he had to be at the church. So, you got up early and got ready, daydreaming about what you wanted to do with him while you waited for him to arrive.
Initially, you struggled to decide on an outfit, but in the end, you settled on a soft pink dress and matching flats that you found in the bottom of your closet. Once you were dressed, you admired yourself in the mirror until you heard a knock on the door.
“Hi, baby,” you said as you opened the door.
Joshua stared at you with what you could only describe as awe as he said, “Hi, angel. You look gorgeous today. Is that the dress you’re wearing to church?”
“Yep! Do you like it?” you asked, twirling to show it off.
“I really do, dove.”
With a smile, you moved out of the way so that Joshua could come in and asked, “Is there anything specific you wanna do to pass the time?” You had a few ideas when you saw Joshua all dressed up, but you weren’t sure how to ask for what you wanted. So, you stayed quiet, at least at first.
“I am too. What do you wanna do until we have to leave?”
“I’m not sure. Do you have any ideas?”
“I was thinking about a few things earlier, but I don’t want to do too much right before we have to leave.”
“Well, what were you thinking about?”
“This,” he answered before he pulled you as close as he possibly could and kissed you. You melted into his touch, and you were so distracted by the way his lips felt on yours, you almost didn’t notice his hand moving from your waist down to your ass. Honestly, you probably wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t squeezed softly, earning a gasp from you. With a soft smile, he pulled away slightly and said, “You’re so cute.”
You didn’t respond at first, but after you took a few deep breaths, you collected yourself enough to mumble, “I really liked that.”
“Oh, really?” he asked. You nodded, and he chuckled and said, “You’re so cute, dove.”
Without thinking about it, you asked, “Can I touch you?”
“Maybe later, baby,” he answered, surprised by the question. You pouted, and he added, “I just don’t want you overwhelmed before church. Besides, I don’t know if we have time for that before we have to leave.”
“What about after?”
“We’ll talk after.”
“Ok. I love you.”
“I love you too, angel.”
A few minutes later, the two of you left for church, and Joshua’s hand was on your thigh for the entire ride. You definitely weren’t complaining, though. You loved the way his hand felt as he carefully moved it back and forth, and you liked how intimate the seemingly insignificant gesture felt. The only problem was that you kept getting distracted by thoughts of him touching you somewhere else.
You were so lost in your thoughts of the things that you wanted to do after church, you didn’t even notice that you had arrived until Joshua moved his hand from your thigh and asked, “Are you ready to go in, angel?”
“I guess,” you answered, the disinterest in your voice apparent.
“What’s wrong, sweetpea?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I just kinda don’t wanna do this today.”
“I understand, baby. Why didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t have picked you up if I’d known.”
“I didn’t say anything because I still wanted to see you. I just don’t wanna sit through service today.”
“I really wish you’d said something. I could’ve figured something else out.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Hey, nothing to be sorry for, dove. Just tell me next time, ok?” You nodded in response, and he added, “Thank you.”
“Are you ready?”
“Just a second. Can I ask you something, dove?”
“Of course.
“You seem a bit distracted,” Joshua said. “Is there something on your mind?”
You hesitated for a minute before you answered, “I’d rather be doing something else right now.”
“I have a feeling I know what it is that you want to do, but I still wanna hear you say it. So, what would you rather be doing right now?”
“Touching you.”
“Maybe after service, ok?”
“Ok.”
“Now, are you ready to go inside?” he asked. You nodded, and he said, “Ok, then let’s go.”
You and Joshua got out of his car and walked into the church, where everyone was happy to see both of you. It was kind of funny, really. No one cared to even say hello to you for most of the time you’d attended that church, but now that you were dating the pastor, you could hardly walk two steps without someone stopping you to say hello and ask how you were doing. Normally, you wouldn’t have minded the conversation, since you loved interacting with people, but that day, you were just so tired and really didn’t want to be there.
Joshua definitely noticed that you weren’t feeling well, and he tried to draw attention away from you wherever he could. To someone on the outside looking in, he would have seemed jealous and self-centered, whisking everyone that so much as said hello to you away and dominating the conversation. You knew better, though. In between greeting members of the congregation, he made sure to check in on you, something you greatly appreciated. He didn’t verbally ask you if you were ok, but he didn’t need to. All he had to do was take one good look at you, and he could gauge how you were feeling, at least when it came to your social battery.
By the time the service was actually ready to start, you were noticeably more relaxed. You were smiling more, your responses to questions and greetings were much less blunt, and you were more involved with conversations. As you and Joshua walked to your seats at the front of the church, you squeezed his hand, a silent expression of gratitude for looking out for you. He squeezed your hand again in response, a quiet acknowledgement that he understood.
The service itself was incredibly dull. Even Joshua’s sermon, which was about having healthy relationships as Christians, did nothing to keep you from getting bored as you waited for the socially acceptable time to leave to finally arrive. No one in the church would be able to tell that you were bored, though, except maybe Joshua, but only because you’d told him before service. As far as the rest of the congregation knew, you were the same good girl you’d always been, listening eagerly to the things that your pastor said.
When service finally ended, you immediately found Joshua, hoping to leave with him as quickly as possible. Of course, before you could go home, though, there were a number of people that wanted to speak with your boyfriend, either because they wanted to share their thoughts on the sermon or because they had a personal matter that they wanted guidance on. You wanted to be annoyed by the series of delays, but you really couldn’t find it in yourself to be upset. After all, he took such care to address every question and concern with nothing but love, reassuring everyone that he spoke to and praying with them if they asked. Even the handful of children that approached him were treated with respect and dignity, like Joshua viewed their questions as just as important as the questions the adults in the congregation had.
Every moment watching Joshua interact with the people in your community made you fall more in love with him.
You were so lost in your thoughts; you almost didn’t notice that Joshua was calling your name. Once you snapped back to reality, you turned to face him with a smile, and he asked, “Are you ready to go?” You nodded, and he took your hand to lead you back to his car.
The ride home was mostly silent, with both of you too tired to fill the empty space around you with conversation. Joshua’s hand still rested comfortably on your thigh, however, and the seemingly small gesture did help you relax.
When Joshua pulled up to your apartment, you broke the comfortable silence that had formed during the ride and asked, “Would you like to stay for a bit?”
“Are you sure?”
You nodded and answered, “I’d really like some more time with you before you have to go home.”
“I think that sounds great, angel.”
With that, you and Joshua walked into your apartment together. The moment your front door was shut, you pulled him into a tight hug and said, “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
After he let go, you led Joshua to your couch, sat down, and asked, “What do you wanna do?” You hoped you didn’t sound as nervous as you felt, but considering how good Joshua already was at reading you, you wouldn’t have been surprised if he could tell.
Joshua pretended to think for a minute before he said, “I think you should pick what we do, baby.”
“Are you sure?”
He nodded and said, “I’m sure. What do you wanna do?”
You didn’t answer him verbally. Instead, you leaned closer and kissed him with everything you had. A soft noise of surprise left his mouth, but he relaxed pretty much immediately, tangling his hands in your hair as he deepened the kiss. A soft moan left your mouth, and you pulled away from him just enough to say, “I want you.”
“Oh really? What do you want from me, baby?” he asked, the teasing tone in his voice turning you on even more.
“Want you to touch me. Please?”
“How?”
“However you want. Just, please?”
“Patience, sweetheart. Do you want to do something we’ve already done, or do you want to do something different?” You mumbled something he couldn’t quite hear, so he said, “Speak up, love. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you want.”
“Wanna try something different.”
“What do you wanna try?” You were quiet after that, so he added, “Do you want my fingers? Do you want my tongue? Do you want my cock?”
A soft whine slipped out before you whispered, “The last one.”
“Oh really, baby?” he asked. You nodded, and he gently placed his hand under your chin, lifting your head to make eye contact with him as he asked, “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Baby, I’m being serious here. Are you sure that’s what you want?”
“I know. I’m sure. I trust you.”
Joshua was amazed by how much you trusted him already.
“As long as you’re sure. If you change your mind at any point, though, I need you to tell me. Ok, angel?”
“I will. I promise.”
“Good girl,” he replied before he kissed you again, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer, if that was even possible. When he pulled away from the kiss, you whined softly, and he asked, “Should we take this to your room, baby?” You nodded, and he laughed softly before he said, “Use your words, dove.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” you mumbled.
“Then lead the way, darling.”
You hesitantly took Joshua’s hand and led him to your bedroom. Once you were there, though, and Joshua’s lips found their way to your neck, any lingering hesitation was completely replaced by arousal. Soft moans slipped out of your mouth as he kissed and bit every inch of you he could comfortably reach, and once the desire that coursed through your veins was too much to bear, you whined, “Please do something.”
“I am doing something, sweetpea,” he teased.
“Want more,” you begged.
Joshua pretended to contemplate his options for a moment before he said, “Alright, baby. Can you take your clothes off for me?”
You nodded and did what you were asked, because of course you did. You were more turned on than you ever thought possible in that moment, and all you wanted was to make the man that you loved happy.
Once you were standing in front of him, naked and desperate, you mumbled, "Want you."
"I know, baby," Joshua replied as he rid himself of his own clothing. "Lie down on the bed."
You scrambled to follow his instructions, and once you were comfortable, he carefully climbed on top of you. When he was sure that you were ready, he slowly entered you.
To say the feeling of Joshua's cock inside of you was jarring would have been a vast understatement. Still, you didn't exactly dislike the feeling, especially once he started thrusting.
Joshua started out slowly at first, letting you adjust to the feeling, which you appreciated. Sure, you’d had a vague idea of how sex worked before you met Joshua, but you had no idea how it was supposed to feel, really. Now that you were actually experiencing it, you couldn’t help but think that Joshua’s cock inside you was one of your favorite feelings in the world.
Soft whines slipped out as the pleasure started to build, and Joshua kissed you before he said, “You feel so good, baby. Knew you would.”
“Want more,” you pleaded.
“What do you want, baby?” he asked as he stopped his thrusts.
“Don’t know,” you said, trying to catch your breath. “Just know I want more.”
“Aww, poor baby,” he said, laughing when you pouted. “Don’t worry, sweetpea. I’ll give you everything you want and more, I promise.”
With that, he started thrusting again, and the room was mostly silent as both of you got lost in how good you felt. When Joshua started to pick up the pace, though? You could barely contain the sounds that started to increase in volume and pitch.
“Fuck, baby, you’re gonna be the death of me,” Joshua said with a loud groan. “I’m gonna fucking marry you one day, I swear.”
You moaned loudly and choked out, “Please,” too lost in how he felt inside you to fully process what he was saying.
Joshua fucked into you harder as he said, “Can’t wait for you to be my gorgeous little wife. Maybe one day I’ll give you a baby too. How does that sound, angel?”
“Please. Want it so bad. Love you so much,” you whined, clenching around him.
“I love you too, baby. Fuck, I’m close.”
Before you could say another word, Joshua pulled out of you, cum hitting your stomach as he moaned your name. Without really meaning to, you whined at the loss, and he chucked softly, admiring you as he caught his breath.
“I have an idea,” Joshua said as he climbed off of you and sat on your bed. “Can you sit on my lap, angel?”
You nodded as you followed his instructions, and once you were comfortable, you asked, “Like this?”
Joshua shook his head and carefully moved you so that you were straddling one of his thighs before he asked, “Do you remember what we did a few weeks ago?”
“Yes? I think so. When I was on your lap?”
“Yes, exactly. Do you wanna do that again?” he asked. You nodded, and he said, “Go ahead, my darling.”
With no further hesitation, you started to move back and forth, with Joshua placing his hands on your hips to guide you. Every moment sent sparks of pleasure through you, and you knew that you weren’t gonna last much longer.
Almost right on cue, the now familiar heat in the pit of your stomach started to build, and you knew that you wouldn’t last much longer. You tried to warn Joshua, but before you could, you came undone on top of him, holding onto the man you loved while pleasure coursed through your veins.
After you caught your breath, you carefully climbed off of Joshua, and he helped you clean up and put fresh clothes on. Then, once you were both dressed and comfortable again, you quietly asked, “Do you wanna stay the night?”
“Are you sure, baby? I don’t want to upset you again.”
“It’s ok, really,” you said. “I was just embarrassed last time." There was a brief silence before you mumbled, "I want you to stay."
"Ok, then I'll stay."
"Thank you. I love you."
"I love you too, dove."
With that, the two of you left the bedroom, going to the kitchen to cook an early dinner together. After you finished eating, he helped you clean the kitchen, and the two of you spent the rest of the night enjoying each other’s presence.
After your first time with Joshua, you felt like a completely different person. Not a bad kind of different, but different nonetheless. Before you met him, you never would have even considered sex before getting married. But when you were with Joshua, it was almost like you didn’t care anymore. You trusted him more than you’d ever trusted another person before, and that meant you were more than willing to test your limits when you were with him, even if you’d been told your whole life that the things you did together were sinful.
A few months into your relationship, you and Joshua found yourselves testing your limits once again at a church potluck. For the most part, everything was normal, with everyone in the congregation chatting about Joshua’s sermon earlier that morning while they enjoyed good food and good company. You enjoyed the sunny afternoon by sitting at a table outside of the church along with Joshua and a few of your mutual friends, and no one had a care in the world until you heard a disappointingly familiar voice ask, “How are you doing today?”
“I’m doing fine, Jihoon,” you answered halfheartedly as you turned toward the source of the voice.
“Do you have a few minutes to talk privately?” Jihoon asked, the nervousness he was feeling evident both in his voice and the look on his face.
“Is everything alright, Jihoon?” Joshua asked, visibly annoyed by your ex’s presence at your table.
“Everything is fine, Reverend. I just wanted to speak to her alone,” your ex answered, emphasizing the last word as he answered.
Joshua reached out and gently took your hand as he said, “I don’t believe that’s necessary.” It was a subtle gesture, but it didn’t go unnoticed by Jihoon. Or by you, for that matter. Whether it was the way he touched you with such care or the hint of frustration in his voice, or some combination of the two, you didn’t know. All you knew was that a feeling started to build in the pit of your stomach that was wildly inappropriate for where you were. Though, you had a feeling that Joshua would've loved it if you'd told him.
“Forgive me, Reverend, but I think that she should have the final say. Don’t you?” Jihoon asked before turning to look at you expectantly.
“There’s nothing for us to talk about, Jihoon,” you responded flatly. “It was nice to see you.”
Jihoon sighed and said, “It was nice to see you too,” giving you a halfhearted smile as he struggled to hide the frustration and disappointment that had replaced the nervousness he felt when he approached you. He still left you alone after that, though, which you were more grateful for than you could put into words.
Joshua, however, was clearly still angry, even after Jihoon walked away. So, you tried your best to distract him with silly conversations and plenty of touches that certainly toed the line of appropriateness but didn’t cross it obviously enough for the two of you to get in trouble. At first, you worried that you were pushing too far, but when you watched Joshua struggle to maintain his composure as you laughed at one of his jokes, you knew you had him right where he wanted you.
A few minutes after Jihoon walked away, Yewon, youth pastor Kwon’s wife, approached your table and asked, “Reverend Hong, is there another pack of paper plates somewhere? We’re getting low.”
“There should be some in the supply closet near the restrooms,” Joshua answered. “Would you like me to go get them?”
“Are you sure?” Yewon asked.
“Of course,” Joshua answered before he turned to you and asked, “Would you mind helping me look for them, my love?”
“Not at all,” you answered, happy to help your boyfriend.
“Thank you so much,” Yewon said before she walked away.
With a mischievous smile on his face, Joshua took your hand and said, “Let’s go get those plates.” That was when you started to get a feeling that something more would happen, but you weren’t sure if that was because of how he was acting or how badly you wanted him in that moment. Regardless of the reason, you stood up and let Joshua lead you into the church.
Once you found your way to the supply closet that Joshua had mentioned, he entered the cramped storage room, pulled you in behind him, and shut and locked the door. You opened your mouth to say something, but before you could, his lips were on yours.
You melted into the kiss with a sigh, and Joshua wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. A soft whine slipped out as he deepened the kiss, and he pulled away just enough to look you in the eyes and say, “You need to be quiet, sweetheart. Don’t want anyone to hear us doing this, do we? Especially here of all places.” You shook your head, and he answered, “That’s what I thought.”
“Wait, are we-”
“Only if you want to.”
A million thoughts ran through your mind, but only two words came out of your mouth. “Why here?”
“Because I need you,” he answered, his voice laced with desperation.
“Won’t we get in trouble if we get caught?” you asked.
“Oh, definitely. But that just means that we need to try not to get caught.”
It would have been a lie to say that you weren’t nervous about the situation you’d found yourself in, but it also would have been a lie to say that you weren’t incredibly excited and turned on. Since meeting Joshua, you’d had all kinds of new experiences, and in your mind, this was just another opportunity to try something new with the man you loved.
“Baby, are you ok? Do you not want-”
“I want to.”
“Are you sure? You seemed hesitant.”
“I’m a little nervous about it if I'm being honest, but if you think that it'll be ok, I trust you.”
“That’s my good girl.”
"All yours," you mumbled.
"Say it louder, sweetpea."
"I'm all yours," you said, this time with more conviction.
"Very good. Now, are you gonna keep being a good girl for me and take my cock?”
You nodded, and Joshua lifted your skirt and pulled your panties down. When you felt his tip brush against you, a soft whine slipped out of your mouth, and you heard him chuckle to himself.
"What did I say about being quiet, dove?"
"'m sorry, it just feels so good."
“I know, my darling, but we don’t wanna get caught, right?” he asked. You shook your head, and he added, “That’s what I thought.”
With a soft groan, Joshua slowly entered you. Sure, it wasn’t exactly your first time anymore, but you still found yourself struggling to adjust to the sensation of his cock inside you. Once you were ready, however, he started to move, and you swore you could see stars.
You had no idea if it was the excitement of potentially getting caught, how hard Joshua fucked you, or some combination of the two, but regardless, it was more difficult to stay quiet than you expected. So difficult, in fact, that your lover put his hand over your mouth to muffle the sounds that slipped out no matter how hard you tried.
“What did I tell you, dove?” Joshua asked. “It’s important to be quiet. Unless you want to get caught?” Something about the condescending tone in his voice turned you on more than you expected, and when you clenched around him, he laughed and asked, “Really, angel? You want someone to see us, don’t you?”
You wanted to shake your head or try to say something to indicate that you were trying to listen to what he said. But deep down, you knew that you didn’t care if someone opened that closet to see what the two of you were doing. The only things you cared about in the moment were Joshua’s cock inside you and the orgasm that hit you before you even realized you were close.
Seconds after you came down from your high, you felt Joshua come inside of you, holding you tight as he rode out his high. Then, once you both calmed down, Joshua carefully pulled out of you and helped you get dressed again. After putting his own clothes back on, he asked, “How about we actually grab those plates now?”
After you found the plates, you went back to the picnic almost like nothing happened. There was one minor difference, however. Every time you noticed Jihoon staring at you and Joshua, you couldn’t help but feel smug, because you knew he could see how beautiful you felt now that you were with someone that loved you with no expectations.
Before you knew it, it was almost your one-year anniversary, and you could hardly contain your excitement. You'd spent weeks searching for the perfect gift for Joshua, but with each shopping trip, you worried more and more that you wouldn't find anything to accurately show him how much you loved him.
However, you got luckier than you expected at your local craft store. You had about 2 weeks left until your anniversary, and you were getting desperate. But after aimlessly wandering through the store for what felt like hours, you noticed a skein of yarn that was baby blue, his favorite color, right next to a display of cross-shaped beads, and inspiration struck.
When you got home, you grabbed your crochet hook and searched for patterns for a book sleeve online. Once you found one that you were happy with, you got to work making a sleeve for Joshua’s favorite Bible. It took multiple tries (and even more attempts at measuring the book when Joshua wasn’t looking) to get the size just right, but in the end, you were satisfied with the results. You'd spent days assembling the book sleeve and adding small decorations that you knew he’d like, such as a beaded cross on the front, and you were proud of yourself for finishing the project in time.
The morning of your anniversary, you called Joshua and invited him over before going through your favorite cookbook to look for a recipe to cook for dinner. Typically, you wouldn’t have put so much effort into dinner, but you thought your anniversary was a fitting day to put the extra effort in.
You started dinner about an hour before Joshua was set to arrive, daydreaming about what you wanted the future to look like while you waited to properly celebrate a year with the man you loved.
Right on time, Joshua knocked on the door, and when you opened it, you pulled him into your dining room and said, "Sit down. Dinner is almost ready."
"You didn't have to cook for me, baby."
"I know. I wanted to because it's a special occasion. I love you."
“Well, I appreciate it. I love you, sweetpea.”
The familiar pet name sent butterflies to your stomach, which made finishing dinner difficult, but you got there in the end. When it was done, you fixed two plates and brought them to the dining room table with a smile.
When you put Joshua’s plate in front of him, he said, “Thank you. This looks incredible.”
“Thank you, my love,” you said, feeling giddy as you set your own plate down. Before you actually started to eat, though, you looked up at Joshua and asked, “Actually, before we eat, can I give you your gift?"
"Yeah, of course.”
With that, you grabbed the bag that you’d left under the table and handed it to Joshua. When he opened it and looked at what was inside, he looked back at you and asked, “What is it?”
“It’s a protective sleeve for your Bible. I remembered what you said about how you wish you didn’t have to be so careful to keep it from getting dirty.”
With a soft smile, he said, “Thank you,” and gently placed the bag next to his chair. With that, the two of you ate dinner in almost complete silence, focused more on enjoying each other’s company than coming up with something interesting to say.
At the end of the meal, however, Joshua looked at you with a glint of mischief in his eyes and said, “I have a surprise for you.”
“What is it?”
Joshua didn’t respond to your question verbally at first, but he didn’t need to. You knew exactly what was happening when he stood from his chair and pulled a small box out of his pocket. With a soft smile and shaky hands, he looked up at you and said, “My darling, I love you more than I’ve ever loved another person before. Every minute with you has been a rollercoaster of new emotions and experiences, and while to many it may look like it’s too soon to say for sure, I’ve never been more certain of anything than I am that I never want to get off the ride. Will you marry me?”
You nodded in response, not trusting your ability to speak without crying as Joshua stood from his place on the floor and placed the ring on your finger. You admired the ring as the diamond sparkled in the light of your dining room, and Joshua looked at you with an excited grin on his face as he asked, “Does that mean you like it?”
“I love it, and I love you.”
“I love you too, angel. I always will.”
Joshua cupped your face in his hands and kissed you with a passion that almost knocked you off your feet, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. You lost yourself in the way his lips felt on yours shockingly quickly, so distracted that you almost didn’t notice his hand slowly making its way to your ass. What finally snapped you out of it was his hand squeezing gently, which caused a soft moan to tumble from your lips.
With a smirk on his face and mischief in his eyes, he pulled away and said, “I can’t wait for you to be my wife.”
“Maybe then you’ll finally keep that promise you made the first time we had sex,” you answered with a laugh.
“What promise?” he asked. You gave him a knowing smile, and that was when he remembered everything. With a shy laugh of his own, he said, “Maybe I will.”
“You’d better.”
“I love you so much.”
“I love you too.”
Thank you everyone for reading! If you liked this one, please make sure to like and reblog!
If you wanna check out my other works, my masterlist can be found here. If you wanna see what I'm working on, my upcoming works list is here. If you'd like to be tagged whenever I upload a new fic, my taglist form is here! You can also send me an ask or dm at any time to be added or removed.
Thank you again for reading, and have a wonderful day!
🏴☠️Who: Kwon Soonyoung (Seventeen) x female reader
🏴☠️What: Humour. Best friends to Lovers. I guess some fluff? Suggestive (18+).
🏴☠️Word count: 5.9k
🏴☠️Warnings: Profanity. Party typical alcohol mentions but neither of them are drinking. Kind of jealous/ possessive Soonyoung. Making out in public places. Multiple mentions of Soonyoung’s dick (flaccid, unfortunately). The whole point of this story is Soonyoung in a costume marketed for women; so if that's not your vibe, then this story is not for you, friend.
🏴☠️Summary:
For some insane reason, you thought that you could trust your best friend with the task of buying the pair of you costumes for Seungkwan’s upcoming party.
Now, you’re paying for your mistake and have to spend the entire night watching Soonyoung dancing in those tiny little shorts initially intended for you.
You’re not sure you’ll survive this night with your dignity intact.
Minors do NOT interact. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in their bio. I also block blank blogs.
Masterlist
A/N- This was originally on my old account @/whipped-for-kpop-fics, but I’ve decided to private a lot of stuff on that account and just move it over to here after some editing, where I can actually track it all properly.
Completely out of the blue last week, Seungkwan decided to send a message in the group chat to say that he's throwing a costume party. No reason for it, nothing had happened to warrant a party; he had simply decided he wanted to do it and demanded the entire group be there and in costume.
Soonyoung had, unsurprisingly, already been by your side on your couch— watching the latest episode of the drama you two are obsessed with—, when the message came through. After the episode, you both looked at your phones, and Soonyoung immediately started to look for costume ideas excitedly. He soon found and fell in love with a pirate outfit; after showing you it, he said it's part of a couple costume and as besties, you have to match because “that's what besties do”.
In the year you have known Soonyoung, you have never truly said no to him and this was no different. Though, perhaps, you should've at least looked at the female half of the matching costume before agreeing instead of blindly trusting your best friend.
Which leads us to here.
It's an hour before the party is due to start, and Soonyoung has just turned up at your apartment to get ready together, just like always. He has the parcel of costumes in his arms, and a bright, excited grin on his face when he hands it over to you to allow him to remove his shoes.
“I haven't opened it yet,” he informs, watching you walk over to the couch to lean the parcel against the arm and open it like you know he wants you to. Soonyoung knows you get an odd sense of joy from opening parcels— whether or not they're for you—, so he often brings his orders over or invites you to his apartment to allow you to open them for him.
“So I see,” you muse with a little giggle.
Soonyoung appears at your back a moment later, leaning his chin on your shoulder to peer into the bag as you open it.
The first costume out is his, packaged in another bag, though this one is clear, revealing the cardboard insert with a picture of a man donning the costume on the front. He takes it happily when you offer it and bounces aside to start to open it excitedly.
There's only one more item in the bag, your costume, so you take it out, as excited about your matching pirate outfits as Soonyoung is. Up until you turn the packet over to look at the picture and realise that this truly is not what you expected. Especially not from your best friend.
“What the actual fuck, Kwon Soonyoung?!” you demand, flabbergasted.
“Uh-oh, the full name.” Soonyoung looks up at you in alarm, all signs of joy gone. “Did they send the wrong thing?”
“I hope so, because if you saw this on the site and still ordered it, you and I are going to have some issues.” You turn the packet to show him the picture on the cardboard insert.
A picture of a woman in a tiny pair of high-waisted shorts— if they can even be considered that— with fishnet tights underneath. There's an attempt at a white top that honestly could be a lot worse; it's off the shoulder and cropped, but it's not as bad as it could be for a female-focused costume, yet still far too revealing for your liking. To finish it off, she's wearing a striped bandana on her head, and grasping a plastic sword in her hands. You're very certain that the sword alone is the only reason the packet is this big, because there's certainly not enough material creating the costume to require such a size bag.
Soonyoung stares at the picture for a second, then looks up at you with a confused little pout. “It's a pirate outfit.”
“Show me yours,” you demand with a sigh. He doesn't hesitate to move over and hand you his costume, still just about in the packet.
There's a very clear difference in costumes. The picture on this packet depicts a man in three-quarter length, vertically striped, trousers; and a simple, white shirt with an open neckline, revealing a thin, triangular strip of skin down to his sternum. It’s finished with the same bandana as your costume, and a plastic sword. Though, the man's sword is a lot bigger than the woman's sword. Of course, the men get the big boy sword and the women get the toothpick.
“You seriously don't see a problem with this?” you ask, holding the two packets side by side so that he can see the photos together.
Poor, naive Soonyoung looks between the pictures rapidly in a desperate attempt to understand. Yet he winds up just shaking his head as he looks at you with such an innocent expression that you know that he seriously doesn't understand the problem here at all.
“Then you can wear this one,” you declare while handing him the woman's outfit, before turning to stalk off to your bedroom.
“What?!” he sputters, scrambling to follow you down the short corridor. “This is for women!”
“You've said before; clothes have no gender!” you remind, turning at the threshold with a hand on your open door ready to close it, and a sweet smile on your face. “If you want to match with me, Soonyoungie, you wear that, and I'll wear this.”
He stares between you and the packet in his hand for a moment before agreeing with a nod and a simple “Okay.”
And that right there, is your second mistake.
When you had told Soonyoung to wear that outfit, you really hadn’tbeen prepared for how fucking good he'd look in the skimpy little outfit. Now, you have to spend the next hours at Seungkwan's bustling apartment pretending that your gaze isn't constantly locating Soonyoung in the dim lighting as he happily dances amongst other costumed bodies.
Sure, you've seen Soonyoung topless before, so you know the man has a frankly incredible body— usually hidden under the baggy clothes that he prefers to wear—, but the sexy little pirate outfit highlights his strong torso and biceps so well.
The cropped top stops at his sternum, giving full view of the top half of his defined abs, the bottom half hidden by the high waist of the shorts. And those shorts? They really do not leave a lot to the imagination at all. Soonyoung has spent the entire night so far carefully doing his best to keep the sword strapped around his hips carefully located to dangle in front of his crotch to keep some of his dignity.
You had obligingly given him the bigger sword when you had realised that the 'woman's' sword wasn't exactly wide enough to cover him. Neither of you had made eye contact when you handed it over without a word, because you both knew what it meant; that you had obviously seen the bulge of his flaccid dick in the tight shorts. Which, honestly, had only made you wonder how big he is when hard, and that is a thought that you usually try to avoid, thinking of your best friend in a sexual situation.
Though his pure existence alone makes it very hard. No pun intended.
Kwon Soonyoung doesn't realise how attractive he is, and you're kind of grateful about it. Because if that unfairly effortlessly attractive man knows how hot he is, then you know he'll be cocky and dress to show off more often than just for nights out or special occasions, and you would not mentally survive that.
As it is, you're not sure you'll survive tonight.
“One day, you two are going to stop being stupid and just fuck it out,” Chan comments from your right where he stands in his doctor's outfit. Seungkwan's wearing a matching one somewhere else in the apartment and you really can't tell if it's intentional or not with those two. They're always bickering and acting like they hate each other, but they're always the first the other goes to for any reason whatsoever.
“Please make it before the end of summer so I don't lose money,” Seungcheol requests from your left, leaning against the wall with you, and dressed in a suit just like his own best friend and roommate, wherever she has disappeared to. She's likely with Junhui, based on the way the pair have been eyeing each other for the past hour— and since they met really, but that's another story entirely.
“You assholes have bets on us fucking?” you gawp in betrayed disbelief at the suited man.
“Yup,” Seungcheol confirms shamelessly, while Chan tries to sputter out a denial that makes you level the youngest with an unimpressed look.
However, it doesn't last because you hear Soonyoung's loud voice, even over the music, and automatically look over to where your best friend is trying to stop Seokmin from grabbing at his sword. No euphemism, even if the plastic is in the right place.
“Looks like Seok's going to get further with your boy than you ever have,” Seungcheol sniggers. You shove his arm, making him laugh harder.
“Swordplay,” Chan giggles to himself, then wanders off without another word to refill his cup after swallowing the last of its contents.
“Seriously though, you should, like, go fuck him,” Seungcheol says a moment later, when Soonyoung has successfully distracted Seokmin by grabbing the younger's hands to make him dance with him. Soonyoung shoots you a world-weary, wide-eyed look that makes you snicker and wave innocently at him.
“You really don't want to lose money, huh?”
“It's not even about that, just… you two. This has been going on for over a year now; this gross pining shit. Just sit on his dick and ask him on a date; it's not that hard.”
“You can't say shit, Cheol,” you remind.
“Hey, I've fucked her, regularly,” he defends with a pout before sipping at his drink.
“Oh yeah, because fucking your best friend who you've been in love with since childhood while encouraging her to go after your friend, who she's been mutually eye-fucking for the past three months, is so much better,” you retort sarcastically and give him a look.
He can't refute it at all, it's entirely true, and he's confided in you enough for you both to know that he's constantly making his own heartbreak worse by continuing to indulge his best friend, both in bed and when she comes home and whines over how good Junhui looks.
“We're as bad as each other,” he decides after a second.
“Don't lump me with you. I've never fucked him.” You scoff and turn back around to naturally locate Soonyoung where he's back to smiling away as he dances with Seokmin and some others.
“You want to.”
“Yeah, I really fucking do,” you exhale, and then swallow down the last of your drink, only to frown down into the empty disposable cup. “I need a real drink.”
“You know you can't drink around him like this or you will ask to suck his dick,” Seungcheol reminds you of the very reason why you're always the designated driver when Soonyoung dresses up.
Because yes, you have come close to getting on your knees in the middle of a club for him. Luckily, Seungcheol had noticed and took you home before you actually acted on the urge to publicly defile your best friend. Unluckily, Seungcheol had noticed and hasn’t failed to mention it at every chance. But at least it's stayed between the two of you.
“At this rate, I'll do it regardless,” you mutter, still frowning into your empty cup. “Back in a bit.” Seungcheol just grunts to show he heard before you slump off to the kitchen to refill your cup with one of the non-alcoholic beverages lining the counter.
You've barely finished filling your cup when a familiar hand reaches around you and picks it up to start gulping down. Even though you know it's Soonyoung, you still look over your right shoulder where he's chugging down the drink, entirely unaware of your thirsty gaze watching the drop of liquid that escapes from the corner of his mouth trail down over his chin and jaw, and down his neck to catch on his collar bone. You refrain from leaning in to slurp it up and lick your way up the trail it left all the way to Soonyoung's mouth. Even if you really want to do just that, and more. Much more.
Instead of staring at the way his throat bobs as he swallows down the last drops, you turn back around and wait for him to place the cup down so that you can refill it. And then he grabs it again before you can, making you groan in complaint. “Seriously?"”
“M'thirsty,” he defends, barely pulling the cup away and accidentally dribbling some of the liquid from his mouth onto your shoulder. You look at him in disgust. He just grins sweetly and kisses your cheek in a sticky, apologetic way before leaning back up to get back to his task of once again, stealing your drink.
At least this time when you've refilled the cup, he doesn't steal it away and lets you actually lift it to your own mouth. You can feel his eyes on you as you drink, so you side-eye him questioningly without moving the cup away.
“Are you taking Seungcheol home again?” he asks, stepping closer to you as someone passes too close behind him; his left hand falls to your hip and his right onto the counter, sort of caging you in, though you know it's unintentional— even if you wish it wasn't.
“He can take himself home, he's not drinking tonight,” you reply, distracted by the feeling of plastic pressing against you. “Your sword is digging into my ass.”
Soonyoung lets go of the counter to tug his sword belt around and lays the toy on the outside of his left thigh, leaving him pressed directly against you. You genuinely can't tell if he's even noticed that as he seems to be focused on the conversation, judging by the concentrated furrow of his eyebrows. “That's not what I mean and you know it.”
“If I know it, wouldn't I respond to what you mean?” You give him a look; puzzled by his words, and hoping he understands that you seem to very much not be having the same conversation here, and you are completely unaware of the conversation he's having with you.
“Not when you're both pretending nothing's happening.”
“What?” You nudge him back enough so that you can turn and face him, which admittedly, is not your smartest move when he moves straight back in. He doesn't press against you again, but his left foot is between both of yours as you lean your ass back against the counter. Any closer and his thigh will be very close to pressing to your crotch.
“Come on, I'm your best friend, I think you should at least be honest with me, even if you play ignorant with the others.” He frowns and leans heavier onto his right hand on the counter beside your hip, bringing him in closer so that he doesn't have to talk so loudly to be heard over the music. “You two often leave together when we go out. And even though his place is closer than mine, you drop me off first so it's just you two left. I'm not stupid.”
“Wait, you think that's so we can go fuck?” you realise with wide eyes.
“It's obvious; you always find each other when we're all together like this and spend the whole fucking night hiding off to the side whispering to each other.”
You can't help but laugh. “Do you all think we're fucking?” He nods in confirmation. You laugh again. “Oh man, I gotta tell Cheolie this.” You start to push off the counter with every intention of going to find the older man, knowing he will find it as hilarious as you do, but Soonyoung puts his left hand on your lower stomach to push you back, and then he pushes himself against you to pin you there. “Soonyoung–”
“No.”
“What? No? No what?"”
“I'm not letting you go back to him. You came with me, you're staying with me, and leaving with me, no one else,” he declares firmly.
You stare up at him trying to decipher what the fuck is actually going on right now; what prompted this sudden conversation and behaviour. Not that Soonyoung has never pinned you before, but it's usually playful as he whines and pouts cutely to get his way, or to just joke around. But he's entirely serious now and looking at you with something kind of dark in his eyes.
Admittedly, it's pretty fucking hot.
“Are you drunk?” you ask, even if you know he's not; you can't smell any alcohol on him, and drunk Soonyoung gets cuddly and clingy, not whatever this is.
“You know I'm not.” He places his left hand on the counter on your other side, well and truly caging you in, and causing him to lean down a little closer to reach comfortably.
“Then why are you suddenly acting like this?”
“It's not sudden.” You give him a look. “Okay, fine, acting on it is; but wanting to, that's not sudden. I've wanted to do this for a long time.”
“Then why haven't you?”
“Because I care about you too much.” He frowns a little as he takes in your features from up close, gaze catching on your lips for a few seconds before lifting back up to meet your eyes. “There's a bet, you know, about us fucking?”
“I just found out.” You pull a displeased expression. “Cheol's in on that, you know? He wouldn't bet on us fucking before the end of summer if he's fucking me.”
“He is?” He raises his eyebrows in surprise. “They made it sound like he's against the bet; said he's been trying to stop them from talking me into it.”
“Yeah, no, he just told me to fuck you. He's always telling me to fuck you.”
“Oh.” He licks his lips as his eyes divert thoughtfully. “Guess I should stop being a dick to him then.”
“You've been a dick to him?” you ask, genuinely surprised. You really haven't noticed Soonyoung acting badly towards Seungcheol at all.
“Mm, I always take his favourite snacks at movie night.”
You can't help but burst into giggling laughter at his confession. Of course, the man doesn't have a single genuinely mean bone in his body and would think purposely taking someone's favourite snacks would be a giant dick move. You bet he's been feeling kind of guilty about it while, no doubt, Seungcheol hasn't even noticed.
“What? why're you laughing?” He pouts at you.
“Oh, Soonie, you're so fucking cute,” you coo and cup his cheeks fondly. He smiles a little dopily at the compliment; the same smile he reserves for you and your doting attention on him, even if neither of you have noticed that. The rest of your friends have though.
“Nice ass,” you hear before Soonyoung's hips jerk into you when he yelps and tries to escape the slap that lands on his ass.
“Hey!” he complains, looking over his shoulder to pout at Jeonghan as the man appears from behind your best friend.
You really can't tell exactly what Jeonghan is supposed to be; you think it's some kind of anime character, or something kinky. Maybe both. Either way, his costume is a strange mix of faux black leather, and shimmery red, lacy wings. And he pulls it off unfairly well, considering that you know he hadn't been prepared for the party this morning at all.
“What? Don't look at me like I'm disturbing something,” Jeonghan scoffs, reaching around you to grab the same big plastic bottle you had been filling your cup from. Though he stops and looks at the way Soonyoung is very much pressed against you. Jeonghan grins after noticing that Soonyoung's crotch is definitely smushed against your upper thigh; something you have been doing your best to ignore yourself because yes you can feel everything through the thin material covering you both. “Or maybe I am.” He smirks at you both.
“What are you supposed to be exactly?” you ask in an attempt to change the topic to one that won't kill your last remaining dregs of sanity. Then again, with the things that come out of Yoon Jeonghan's mouth, you could still be rendered insane, but for a reason other than feeling your best friend's dick pressed against you.
“No idea, just grabbed some shit from Hao's costume closet.” Jeonghan shrugs as he looks down at himself. “Kind of think this might be less about his costume designing and more about sex though.”
“He's definitely worn that harness while fucking someone,” you agree, and reach out to hook your finger over the thick horizontal strap over Jeonghan's chest. You're pretty sure it's directly over his nipples, but the slightly sheer tank top he's wearing underneath the harness kind of obscures your view enough that you don't have confirmation.
“Mm, definitely,” Jeonghan agrees, and smirks at you. “Want to take it home yourself?”
“And take it from you? I wouldn't dare, you look so handsome, Hannie,” you coo, playing along with the flirty banter you two have always partaken in. Not because anything has ever happened between you, nor will it; you've discussed it plenty of times to make sure you're both on the same page. But it's just fun to harmlessly flirt.
“Never said I won't be wearing it.” He licks his lips and gives you a suggestive look.
“You're not going home with her,” Soonyoung argues firmly, crowding up against you further; though his gaze is on Jeonghan in warning, so he misses the way your eyes widen and dart down to where Soonyoung is now pressing his dick against your hip with his own thigh pressing up between your thighs. Jeonghan doesn't miss it though and cackles, leaving without another word with his cup and the entire bottle of drink clasped in his hands.
“S–Soonyoung,” you stammer, hands fluttering at his sides, wanting to push him back for your sanity, but you think putting your hands on his exposed skin will just make you pull him closer.
“Do you have to flirt with him all the time?” He frowns at you, entirely unaware of the screaming in your mind; mostly just sounds with the odd yell of the word penis. He'd probably laugh if he heard it, to be honest, just because of the word penis. He wouldn't even realise it's his penis you're mentally screaming about. “And when I'm right here too. Did you forget I'm here or something?”
“No,” you choke out.
“Then why– are you okay?” He suddenly realises how wide your eyes are.
“I can feel your dick,” you blurt, unable to think of anything else.
He blinks at you for a moment, then looks down at where he's pressed against you as if he hasn't even noticed until now. “Oh.” He pulls his hips back, and his thigh from between yours, making you let out a heavy, shaky exhale as your body relaxes a little. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“Ha, not the word I'd use.”
“What word would you use?”
If he was any other man, you'd say the little quirk of his head and innocent eyes locked onto you is fake; just some kind of game, a way to flirt. But it's Kwon Soonyoung, and you've seen this man miss the most obvious of flirtations since you've known him. The number of times you or the guys have had to bluntly tell him that someone had been trying to take him home to fuck, is frankly absurd.
“Stop touching my ass!” his sudden exclamation makes you jump a little, while he looks over his shoulder in annoyance, glaring at Seungkwan, who's giving him an innocent look.
“I'm very happy that you two are finally doing something about your consistent sexual tension and mutual pining, but take it out of my kitchen, please. I don't want to have to burn my home down if you defile my counters,” the younger man speaks bluntly with a slightly sweet edge to his words. You can't even see him, but you just know that he's got that too sweet smile on his face that always feels more threatening than anything.
“What?” Soonyoung blinks at him puzzled as the annoyance of his ass being grabbed melts away. “We're not doing anything.”
“Hannie told me you're being possessive, and we all know that she likes that, so–”
“Hey!” you exclaim offendedly, not because you can argue it, but just more that you're being talked about like you're not here. “She has a name!”
“Well, take Soonie home and he can moan it for the neighbours to hear.” Seungkwan gives you that sweet-threatening smile as he leans around Soonyoung to meet your gaze. “My neighbours don't want to hear it.”
“My neighbours won't hear that,” you scoff.
Soonyoung can't help but frown; he feels like he's just been rejected, even though he hadn't even gotten to the point of actually asking to take you home and fuck you like he wants to, like your mutual friends had convinced him you want him to. But your firm dismissal of Seungkwan's words sounds like you putting that boundary securely in place before he can even ask to tumble over it into your arms.
“He's loud–” Seungkwan starts to point out, but you're not done talking, even if you had taken a quick scoff break.
“I don't live in a cheap-ass building with paper for walls like you do, Kwannie,” you finish.
Both men stare at you for a second; Seungkwan at first just blinks in surprise at the fact you're not even disputing the Soonyoung moaning your name part, just whether or not your neighbours will hear. And Soonyoung is full-on gawping at you, mouth open and eyes wide, wondering if this means that boundary even exists between you.
“Does that mean you won't get a noise complaint? He’s pretty loud, you know? There's a reason we don't live together anymore.”
“I don't know,” you reply with a shrug.
“Then go fucking home already and stop humping against my kitchen counter!” Seungkwan grabs Soonyoung by his hips to yank him backwards away from you, while the scantily dressed pirate yelps and flails a little at the unexpected action. Then he's shoved towards the kitchen exit while Seungkwan grabs your wrist to tug you along.
You're both too genuinely dumbstruck by Seungkwan's sudden, forceful actions to do anything but stumble along until you're both outside of the apartment, shoes in hands, and staring in shock at the door that's just been shut in your faces.
“Did we just get kicked out?” you mutter.
Soonyoung nods slowly and then looks at you. “I think we got kicked out for sex.”
“Is it still sexile if you're the ones getting kicked out and told to go elsewhere to fuck?” you muse, attention downwards as you focus on shoving your feet into your shoes with one hand on the wall behind you, and the other out in the air pointlessly.
“Uh, reverse sexile?” he offers, dropping his shoes to shove his feet into.
“Sounds like a sex position.”
He laughs. “What would that even look like?”
“No idea.” You grin at him, then figure that, well, it seems like you've both been outed enough already, seeing as all of your friends have stopped hiding the fact that they expect you to finally have sex, which really implies a mutual attraction. So, you suck your bottom lip into your mouth for a second as he frowns down at his shoe that just will not accept his right foot for some reason. “Shall we go find out?”
Immediately, Soonyoung looks up at you with wide eyes. “What?”
“Shall we go find out what reverse sexile looks like?”
“Like...us?”
“Yeah, Soonyoung, us,” you confirm with an amused twitch of your lips. “You said you're the only one to go home with me, right?” He nods. “Then let's go home and find out, Soonie.”
“Ye–no, wait.” He steps closer and takes your hand gently before you can start walking down the hall to the staircase. His fingers are barely holding onto your own. It's perhaps the most cautious he's ever taken your hand into his. Even the very first time you held hands, he had boldly laced your fingers together, and you had only met ten minutes previously.
“No?” you ask, feeling really kind of stupid all of a sudden. You had been so unusually confident in asking him to go home and fuck you.
“Not because I don't want to because I do seriously, I really want to fuck you,” he breathes out, sounding rather affected by the thought alone as he stares at you longingly and holds your hand a little more securely. “I just...I don't want it to wind up like Seungcheol.”
“Uh, what about Seungcheol?” You shuffle a little closer while giving him a questioning look.
“Regularly fucking his best friend who has a crush on someone else, while he...while he wants her as more than just company in his bed.” The way his expression turns serious and yearning makes your heart start to race a little with hope.
“While he...Are you saying you want more?” you ask quietly.
“Earlier, when I said I care about you too much, I meant I care too much to be able to have sex with you if it means nothing. I really fucking like you, and I don't want to go home with you like this if you don't feel the same. I can't do that.” He shakes his head a little. “As much as I've thought about this, about you and me doing all kinds of kinky shit all over your apartment, and mine when Jihoon isn't there. Or when he is, if you're into exhibitionism; I don't know your kinks, and I'm pretty sure he wouldn't even notice anyway because he never leaves his fucking room, an–” He's rambling at this point, frowning down at your connected hands as he talks.
“Soonyoung.” He makes a soft hum of a noise as he looks back up at you with rounded eyes. “We can talk kinks later, I'd really like to get back to the matter of it sounds like you're confessing to me?”
“Oh, right yeah, I guess I am.” He chuckles a little and nervously scratches the back of his neck with his free hand. “So, uh, yeah, I really like you and uhm, I guess now comes the part where, hopefully, you say you like me back; but I really don't know if you do because the guys just really said you want to fuck me, and–” You cover his mouth with your hand this time to shut up his second bout of nervous rambling.
“I really like you too, Soonie,” you confirm softly, and giggle at the way his features light up adorably behind your palm. “Can we skip the trial dating bullshit and go straight to being together? I'd like to show you off as my boyfriend.” His eyes widen dramatically, and then he's nodding rapidly in agreement without dislodging your hand. “You're so cute,” you coo, and lean in just to press a kiss to the back of your hand over his mouth. He looks utterly betrayed and heartbroken when you lean back. “What?” You play innocent and lower your hand while backing up, lacing your fingers behind your back.
“You can't tease me like that, baby!” he whines, toddling after you, and dragging his feet in a sulk as he moves along the carpeted flooring of the hall.
“Tease? Me? Never.” You grin at him, then stop as your back hits the door to the staircase.
“You are. Teased me for the past year. Teasing me now,” he continues to mumble away as he nears, though cuts off when you reach out to grab the sword and yank on the plastic to pull him in right up against you. His hands automatically fly up to catch himself on the door above your head while his breath catches in his throat.
“If you're so worried I'm going to keep teasing you, Soonie, you better hurry up and take what you want,” you warn in a low voice, chin tilted up so your faces are only inches apart.
Soonyoung groans in the back of his throat before he leans down and seals his lips against yours in a hungry, desperate kiss. He presses his left forearm flat against the door beside your head, so that he can firmly hold your jaw with his right hand and tilt you further into him with his thumb pushing on your chin to urge your mouth open wider and deepen the kiss in a manner much too filthy for a public hallway of your friend's apartment building.
“Oh, for fucks sake!” the loud voice of the friend in question forces you both apart, to peer over Soonyoung's shoulder to where Seungkwan is in the hallway with the cute neighbour he's recently started to date, their hands clasped together, and clearly with one intention in mind while sneaking away from his own party. They're standing outside of the neighbour's slightly open door, but Seungkwan is staring at you and Soonyoung in disbelief. “I told you to go home! Not get your booty here!”
“Ha, booty, pirate joke,” you snigger, and Soonyoung giggles; both at your amusement, and the pun he honestly hadn't even noticed.
“You two are fucking useless,” Seungkwan decides, and lets his neighbour tug him into the apartment. “You better be gone before I'm back!”
“90 seconds, right?!" Soonyoung calls as Seungkwan disappears. The younger's head pops back out to glare at the other and flip him a very heartfelt middle finger before the door actually shuts behind him that time. Soonyoung turns to look at you with a mischievous smirk. “Should we go fuck on his bed just to piss him off?”
“As tempting as that sounds, I'd rather only I hear you like that, Soonie.” You pout at him cutely. “I'm not very good at sharing my toys, you know.”
“Oh, I'm your toy now?” he muses, reaching down to open the door carefully and back you through it with his other arm wrapping around your waist.
“Mm, mine and only mine to play with when I want, right?”
“Yeah, yeah, yours and yours only, baby,” he agrees lowly. “And you're mine.”
“I am,” you confirm, and tilt up to kiss him teasingly. “Let's hurry and get home so I can show you everything that now belongs to you.”
Soonyoung really doesn’t need any further encouragement and enthusiastically rushes out with his hand locked in yours and excitement on his face. He’s more than ready to unveil your body little by little and discover all of the sweet spots that make you loud enough that your neighbours will know his name before the night is over, thick walls be dammed.
Don't forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖
Total Word Count: 4,127 (shortest scene is 166 words, longest scene is 330 words)
Genre: Fluff, angst, smut
AU: Non idol AU
Tropes: Strangers to FWB, lovers to strangers, first dates, brother's best friend, friends to FWB
Rating: Explicit, MINORS DNI!
Warnings: Swearing, alcohol use, sexual content (unprotected sex, mentioned oral), self destructive behavior, body image issues in Taeyong’s scene, reader feels pretty inadequate throughout the fic, objectification in Jaehyun’s drabble if you squint, Chenle gets a little misogynistic, Jeno is a dick that’s obsessed with working out, no happy ending
Summary: Snippets of a life spent craving connection while also running from it.
A/N: After multiple failed attempts at coming off of hiatus, I'm finally back! I'm really excited for you guys to read this one, because I haven't really tried anything like it before. I'd love to hear feedback!
This one was heavily inspired by the song "Unloved" by Lisa Cimorelli and my own self destructive tendencies in relationships.
And, last but certainly not least, I wanna thank @xomakara, @effervescentorbs, @raysramblings, @themoonlightfae, @spacequokka, and @nothoughtsjustfic for helping me brainstorm and listening to me talk about this story while I got ready to come back. I love you guys!
Taglist: @chugging-antiseptic-dye, @notyourjaem, @shadowkoo, @1-800-jewon
Send me an ask or dm to be added or removed!
Fic is under the cut.
Nakamoto Yuta
The Friend that You Call when You Just Wanna Have a Good Time
It all started when your phone vibrated, your phone flashing with a notification for a text from Yuta.
Yuta: You awake?
You: Yeah. Why?
Yuta: I found a new bar a few towns over. You wanna go?
You: I don’t know if that’s a good idea. Remember what happened last time?
Yuta: Nope. That’s precisely why I’m asking. I’m bored and want somebody to get in trouble with.
You: Fuck it. Let’s go.
Just like every other time you went out, Yuta picked you up after your roommates went to sleep for the night and drove you to the site of your latest adventure. The bar that your friend dragged you to this time was smaller than the ones you typically went to, but you didn’t necessarily mind that. After all, you weren’t there to socialize. You were there to drink until you could barely remember your own name in an attempt to numb the pain. Sure, you would barely remember what happened the next day, if you remembered anything at all, but maybe that was for the best, considering the things you liked to do when you were drunk and hurting.
Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul
The Fuck Buddy that Says He Loves You because You Let Him Do Whatever He Wants
“I fucking love you,” Ten said with a loud groan as he pounded into you. You were certain that he didn’t mean it when he said it, despite how many times he insisted he did, but you honestly couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Not when he fucked you hard enough that every ounce of pain that filled your heart was replaced by pure desire with every thrust. Sure, you knew that it was a temporary relief, a band-aid over the bullet holes that destroyed your sense of self and left you relying on empty distractions to get by, but you’d always thought that temporary relief was better than none at all.
Soft whimpers and moans fell from your lips as Ten continued to fuck you, and you held onto him for dear life. After all, you knew he wouldn’t stay after he was done. He did sometimes, mumbling soft promises that he wanted more than sex, but more often than not, he was gone as soon as the aftercare was done. You really didn’t know what was going to happen, so you were determined to keep him close for as long as you possibly could. Anything to feel something other than pain for once.
Lee Donghyuck
The Player that Thinks You'll be the One to Fix Him
Of course, you knew when you went home with Donghyuck that he only wanted sex from you. Did you care, though? No, you didn't. At least, not at first. You were just like him, looking for a good time and a little bit of attention with no real commitment. And for a while, that was exactly what you got.
Then, about a month after you started sleeping together, he started trying harder to keep a conversation going before he left for the night. As he helped you clean up, he asked you about your day, your dreams, and the things that made you happy. You really tried to dodge the questions, not wanting anything beyond a surface level connection, but he kept pushing.
"Seriously, what do you want more than anything?" he asked, looking at you differently than usual.
"I don't know," you answered once again. "Why do you even care anyway? I thought we were just fuck buddies."
"Well, I changed my mind about some things."
There was a moment of silence before you cautiously asked, "What things?"
"You," he answered, staring at you like you were the center of his world. You were silent in response, just shifting nervously in your spot, so he continued, "I wanna be more than just your fuck buddy. I don't know what it is about you, but you make me feel like I could be something better, and I like it."
"Yeah, sorry, but this isn't gonna work."
"What do you mean?" he asked, genuinely surprised by your reaction.
"You're not gonna use me to be a better person. That's not what this is."
"I'm not-"
"Get out."
Donghyuck stormed out of your apartment after that, and you collapsed into your bed and sobbed, asking yourself why you couldn't find someone that actually listened and respected you.
Lee Taeyong
The Pretty Boy that Makes You Wish You Were Beautiful
The first thing that people said about Taeyong when they saw him was that he was gorgeous. His eyes seemed to sparkle when he laughed. His voice was sweeter than even your favorite love song, the one that hadn’t been soured by years of feeling like love was too far out of your reach. His smile was like a personal ray of sunshine, always making the world around him a better place.
That was why it baffled you that Taeyong was willing to even be seen with you. You felt like you were everything that he wasn’t, and every day you wondered what made you so special. The fact that someone like him, the man that looked like Aphrodite herself crafted his smile, wanted someone like you, the person that couldn’t look in the mirror too long for fear of being driven insane by self-hatred, made no sense in your mind.
Maybe the differences that you saw between the two of you were why you walked away after a measly three dates. Why you told Taeyong that you didn’t want to see him anymore. As you told him that you didn’t think that the two of you were a good match, you considered telling him that it was nothing personal. That you just couldn’t ever see yourself measuring up to what he deserved.
Did you, though? Of course not. Instead, you gave a half-hearted explanation about incompatibility, which he could tell was a lie. He didn’t exactly try to stop you though, and you appreciated that. After all, if he did, you knew you’d break and tell him everything. And you couldn’t stand the idea of him seeing that you were just as weak as you were ugly.
Wong Kunhang
The Lovable Idiot You Only See Once
You could hardly believe how truly happy you felt when you met Kunhang at a party. He was funny, telling jokes that sounded ridiculous but never failed to make you laugh, and he was attentive, his focus never leaving you the entire time you were on the dance floor. In all honesty, it was strange. Was this the connection that you were so desperate for? Did you finally meet someone that could make you feel just a little bit less alone?
You never got to find out the answer to your question, since you heard someone call Kunhang’s name as you walked to the bar together. You tried to ask him for his number before he left, but before you could get the words out, he was lost in the crowd.
You wanted to be upset that you’d had another failed date, but in the end, you just couldn’t find it in you. Even though you were alone yet again, you still had fun with Kunhang, and you still had a silent hope in the back of your mind that one day you’d run into him again.
Kim Dongyoung
The Lover that You Want but Won't Allow Yourself to Have
Dongyoung was the one person that you hooked up with that you actually wanted a deeper connection with. The problem with that was that something felt off in a way that you couldn’t quite explain. You had no idea whether something really was off about him or if it was just your brain convincing you that you were unlovable again, though. Regardless, you still chose to keep your distance, refusing to let him get any closer than what was required for him to fuck you.
You knew that it was counterproductive to push Dongyoung away when he clearly liked you and wanted to get to know you better, but you couldn’t seem to stop yourself. That didn’t mean that you stopped yourself from hooking up with him, though. After all, he was pretty fucking good in bed, and whenever you were with him, you felt loved in a way that you just didn’t most of the time. And that made the uncertainty and confusion over what you wanted worth it.
Huang Renjun
The One-Time Lover that Sees Right Through You
After you and Renjun were dressed again, he gave you a knowing look and asked, “So, does this mean that you’re gonna leave now?”
You were surprised by his straightforwardness, but you still managed to say, “I mean, yeah. If that’s ok with you?”
“Oh, yeah, it’s fine. I figured you would, honestly.”
Surprised and offended by his completely correct assumption, you asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I’ve hooked up with girls like you before,” he answered matter-of-factly.
“Girls like me?”
“I could tell exactly what you were doing from the second you walked into that bar and started looking at every man that gave you the slightest bit of attention like they hung the moon.”
“Oh really? What exactly was I doing?” you asked, frustrated by the almost-stranger that acted like he knew you better than you did.
“You go out to bars and hook up with people you barely know because you’re alone and can’t handle it. But every time somebody starts to get close, you push them away because you think you’re not worth loving, no matter how much you crave that feeling of loving someone and being loved back. Sound about right?”
“I-”
“Look, I’m not trying to judge. Just wanted you to know that I understand.”
His ability to read you like a children’s book stunned you into silence. With a defeated sigh, you sat back down on his bed and started to cry, suddenly overwhelmed by the complicated feelings floating around your head.
Renjun softened immediately when you started to cry, pulling you close and mumbling soft reassurances and apologies while you tried desperately to regain your composure. Eventually, you did, but even after you’d stopped crying, he begged you to stay the night, too worried about your wellbeing to feel comfortable with you leaving. You agreed, but you also swore to yourself you’d never sleep with Renjun again, no matter how much you loved the feeling of finally being understood.
Jeong Yunoh
The Friend that Thinks He Wants to be More
Every time you saw Jaehyun, he made a point to tell you just how beautiful you were and how happy he was to see you. Normally, you’d appreciate the compliment from your friend, since he was known in your friend group as the “king of cheering people up.” However, the almost seductive tone in his voice and the way he fidgeted whenever the two of you made eye contact made it clear to you that his intentions weren’t exactly platonic.
The problem with that was that you only saw Jaehyun as a friend, and you were certain that if he actually took the time to try and get to know you instead of just staring at you whenever you wore a skimpy outfit, he’d feel the same. But you knew that if you tried to tell him that, he wouldn’t listen, so you decided to just accept the compliments. After all, it was nice to feel wanted sometimes, even if you knew that it wasn't real.
Zhong Chenle
The Coworker that Thinks He Knows Better than You Do
You really tried to tune out your coworkers arguing, especially because you felt the argument was completely inappropriate for the office, but it was difficult with their loud volume and condescending tones.
“I’m telling you,” Chenle said from his cubicle. “Women like that don’t care about anything or anyone.”
“What do you mean by ‘women like that?’” you asked, butting into the conversation because you were sick of the bickering.
“The ones that go out to a different club every night to hook up with whatever poor sap is too distracted by how they look to think properly,” Chenle answered, uncharacteristically venomous.
“Don’t you think that’s a bit much?” Minhyung chimed in.
“No, I don’t,” Chenle said before turning back to his desk, signaling that he was done discussing it, even though he was the one that started the conversation by ranting about “women of today.”
You knew that you weren’t the only one tired of listening to Chenle’s rants at work, so you decided to take the logical next step and reported him to HR. Once you left for the day, though, you felt unbelievably drained. Sure, you knew that what he said wasn’t about you specifically, but it still bothered you. You wondered if it was because you knew that you were doing exactly what he was describing, but there was more to it than that. After all, it just showed how little he knew about the world and the people in it.
Na Jaemin
The Boy Next Door that Only Cares on the Surface
When you got back to your apartment building after work, you literally bumped into your neighbor, Jaemin. You tripped on one of the stairs and fell into him, and when he caught you, he asked, “Woah, you ok?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you said, collecting yourself. “How are you doing, Jaem?”
“Great, actually,” he answered, completely oblivious to the fact that you were trying to get around him to get to your apartment. As he talked about his work and relationships, you tried to pay attention, but your mind frequently wandered to the cleaning that would need to be done once you actually got into your apartment.
After Jaemin finished talking, he moved around you and walked down the stairs, not even bothering to say goodbye. Part of you was relieved, just wanting to get home, but the other part of you was a little hurt that he couldn’t be bothered. In the end, though, you tried to tell yourself that you didn’t actually care about how alone you felt when no one even had the time for small talk.
Park Jisung
The Brother's Best Friend that Promises Not to Tell
When Taehyun told you that Jisung would be picking you up from the bar at the end of the night instead of him, you were far from thrilled. You loved your brother dearly, but you’d always hated his friends, particularly Jisung. He had the kind of arrogance that got under your skin like very little else could, he constantly spoke down to you and treated you like a dumb little kid, despite your closeness in age, and he was insanely gorgeous. Of course, the fact that he was one of the most attractive men you’d ever seen wasn’t why you hated him, but it did make being around him more frustrating than it had any right to be.
Still, even though you hadn't had anything to drink that night, you hated driving, so you were grateful that Jisung agreed to pick you up. So grateful, in fact, that you decided to set aside your frustrations for the night. You even repaid his kindness by taking him home and giving him “the best blowjob he’d ever had,” as he described it once you were done. After helping him clean up, you smiled and said, “Thanks again.”
“No problem. I’m always happy to help a friend out.”
There was a moment of silence before you asked, “You’re not gonna tell Taehyun about this, right?”
“Of course, not. I’m not that kind of person.”
You breathed a sigh of relief and said, “Ok, thanks,” before leaning in to kiss him again.
Xiao Dejun
The Lover that Should Be Perfect for You
Every moment with Dejun should have been magical. He treated you like a princess every time the two of you went out together, never leaving your side unless you needed something or explicitly asked him for space. Not that you ever asked for space much, though. He also made a conscious effort to listen when you spoke to him, taking in the details of every story you told like they were the only thing keeping him alive. He loved you, and that was plain for anyone with eyes to see.
So why did you feel so empty when you were with him? Why did every moment feel more like checking boxes and maintaining a routine than spending time with someone that you cared about? You had no idea, but you did know that there had to be something wrong with you, since everything about Dejun radiated love and warmth. The exact opposite of your heart that had frozen over because of years of pain and heartbreak.
Maybe that was why you ran, to avoid freezing his heart too.
Lee Jeno
The Gym Rat that Makes You Feel Like You'll Never Be Enough
Unlike your other potential lovers, you didn’t meet Jeno at a club or bar. Instead, you met him at the gym during yet another failed attempt at getting your life together. He’d been using the treadmill next to yours, and when you both finished up, you exchanged numbers. You tried not to think about it, but a small part of you was hopeful as you walked away with promises of a date.
When you finally went out with him, though, it was a disaster. You tried to suggest dinner at a restaurant, but he declined. When you asked him why, he said that none of the places in town that weren’t “mass produced garbage,” in his words, had any healthy options that were actually good. You wanted to tell him that you thought he was wrong, but you held your tongue while the feeling of inadequacy threatened to follow you whole.
Instead, Jeno suggested going back to the gym to “work off the day.” You were exhausted from work, though, so you tried to suggest something that required less energy so that the two of you could just chill and get to know each other. His response to that was, “I’m not gonna sit on my ass just because you can’t keep up.”
Needless to say, you never went on that date, and the hope that you’d felt when you first met him was squashed like a bug that didn’t make it across the sidewalk in time.
Dong Sicheng
The One-Time Lover that Thinks He Understands
“I know why you’re doing this,” Sicheng had said as you gathered your things to go home after your first night together.
“Oh really?” you asked, trying to sound playful instead of worried. “Why am I doing this, then?”
“You think I don’t wanna see you again.”
There was a beat of silence before you asked, “What?”
“Oh come on, it’s obvious,” he said. “I saw the way you looked at me before you grabbed your bag.”
“That’s not-”
“It’s ok. I’m not offended. But, for the record, I would totally be down to see you again.”
“Thanks, but I think I’m good,” you said as you finally walked toward the door.
Once you left Sicheng’s apartment, you breathed a sigh of relief. When he’d told you that he knew why you behaved the way you did, you expected him to analyze you the way Renjun had, leaving you stripped bare in a way that felt vulnerable instead of exciting. But in the end, it was nothing more than an assumption that you wanted something from him that you hadn’t allowed yourself to want from anyone in a long time.
Maybe he was right in thinking that deep down, you did want more of a connection with him, but you never let yourself see him again to find out. After all, even misplaced attempts at vulnerability could be painful.
Kim Jungwoo
The Friend-of-a-Friend that Just Wants to be Close to You
Technically, you’d known Jungwoo for about three years through mutual friends. but you weren’t sure that you considered him a friend, too. After all, he’d barely spoken to you beyond basic greetings at group events, and you knew next to nothing about him.
Maybe that was why it was such a surprise when he walked up to you at Shotaro’s birthday party, threw his arms around you, and said, “Hey! I missed you. How have you been?”
You stiffened at the contact but still said, “Fine. How are you?”
“I’m good! Just wanted to catch up a bit because it’s been a while.”
“Jungwoo, we saw each other three days ago.”
“So? I can’t ask how you’re doing?”
“I mean you can, but it feels a little weird. We’re not friends, so I don’t understand why you’re pretending we are.”
Jungwoo deflated at your comment and walked away. He was immediately replaced by Shotaro, who asked, “What the hell?”
“I’m sorry! I was caught off guard!”
“You didn’t have to be such an asshole about it! He just wanted to get closer to you.”
“Well closeness is a gradual process. You don’t act like someone’s your best friend right out of the gate.”
Shotaro sighed and said, “Look, just be patient. Please. And try to talk to him. He wants to be friends, but doesn’t know how to reach out.”
As Shotaro walked away, you considered what he said. He was right, now that you were really thinking about it, and you started to feel guilty. Jungwoo had never done anything with malicious intent, so you decided to find him and ask for his number. After all, the process of getting closer had to start somewhere.
Liu Yangyang
The Party Boy that Pretends He's Never Felt Your Pain
You walked into Yangyang’s living room with Seulgi and Joohyun trailing behind you, and it didn’t take long for the prolific party host to catch your eye. After all, he had the kind of confidence that looked like it came easily, weaving through the crowd of guests like he was walking around puddles on the sidewalk. As you watched him, you found yourself envying his easygoing nature.
When Yangyang finally made his way to where you stood chatting with your friends, however, all it took was one look in his eyes for you to know that he was in the same boat as you. Sure, he did a good job of hiding his hurt from a distance, but actually seeing him face to face meant that you could see the hint of pain in his eyes and the small nervous habits that you’d caught yourself in hundreds of times.
When he actually introduced himself to you after speaking with Seulgi and Joohyun, though, it was like a switch flipped. He was all smiles as he pulled you into a hug and said, “Hi! Seulgi told me that she was bringing some friends. What’s your name again?”
You introduced yourself with a hesitant smile of your own and replied, “It’s nice to meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you too,” he said.
The two of you continued to talk much longer than you expected, but you didn’t mind. It was nice to distract yourself from the pain for a night. And if you were right about the way Yangyang acted, he probably needed the distraction too, no matter how badly he wanted to pretend that he didn’t.
Qian Kun
The Well-Meaning Friend Whose Methods are All Wrong
“You can’t honestly tell me that you think this is healthy,” Kun spat.
“I never said it was healthy,” you countered. “I said it’s effective. There’s a difference, you prick.”
“There doesn’t have to be, you fucking dumbass.”
“In my experience, there does.”
“You’re never gonna listen to me, are you?” he asked, quickly losing patience with your insistence on self-destruction.
“Why should I? We both know you do the same shit that I do. At least I have the balls to admit it.”
“Do you really think that?” he asked. You were silent in response, so he added, “Whatever. I’m leaving. Good luck.”
With that, Kun walked out of your apartment, leaving you alone with your thoughts once again. You knew that he was just looking out for you, but you hated his condescending attitude. Especially considering the fact that he had his own less-than-healthy coping mechanisms that he leaned on a bit too much when the weight of his past felt like it was going to crush him. Still, you knew that he was right, so you decided to call him in the morning and apologize. But until morning came, you’d curl up in a ball on your bed and sob as you thought about what your life had become.
Johnny Suh
The Potential Lover that You Know You Could Never Have
Sometimes, running into Johnny at the bar made you want to cry. Not because he’d ever done anything to hurt you, or because you missed some prior connection, but because you knew that he could never want you the same way that you wanted him. After all, he looked like he was sculpted by the gods themselves, his voice sounded sweeter than even your favorite song, and the way that he carried himself made it clear that he knew just how attractive he really was. What reason could he possibly have to want anything more than a quick fuck from someone like you?
You couldn’t think of one, really. So, you kept your distance, at least emotionally. Sure, you still hooked up with him from time to time, but that was where your relationship with him stopped, no matter how badly you wanted more. Of course, sometimes he’d ask you why you never stayed the night after the two of you had sex, but you were a master of excuses by the time that started. You had to be to keep him from figuring out that you were slowly falling in love with him.
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🎶Who: Min Yoongi (BTS) x female reader.
🎶What: Tiny bit of angst. Some humour. Some fluff. Slow burn. Suggestive (18+). Strangers to Friends to Lovers. Single parent Yoongi. Music teacher Yoongi. Child Taehyung. Child Jihoon. Ex husband Mingyu. Best friend Mingyu.
🎶Word count: 14.6k
🎶Warnings: Autistic/ ADHD child Taehyung. Autistic child Jihoon. Suggestive themes (conversations/ thoughts/ memories). Jungkook is eternally horny for reader tbh (and so is Mingyu during part of this). Profanity.
🎶Summary:
Even before you meet him, Min Yoongi owns a piece of your heart.
Minors do NOT interact. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in their bio. I also block blank blogs.
My general masterlist
🎶Mr. Min Masterlist. Previous Chapter. Next Chapter.
The very first Monday of November, just when you get comfortable and fully relaxed submerged up to your neck in warm, bubbly water in the bathtub, your phone starts to ring. Although you would rather your peace not be disturbed right now, you are never one to ignore your ringing phone without good reason, just in case it’s an emergency.
When you manage to gingerly shuffle up to not splash the water over the edge of the tub onto the tiles, you dry your hands off on the towel waiting for you, then grab your phone. You just about manage to get a glance at the caller ID — John Bun 🐰 — before the calls times out.
Slightly alarmed, you quickly unlock the device with the intention of immediately calling back— because it’s really so rare that he ever rings you—, but then it starts to ring with a new incoming call with the same ID, and you don’t hesitate to press answer.
“Hey, Mama!” Jungkook greets brightly the second the call connects.
“You…sound okay,” you realise, eyebrows furrowing as you lean back into the water after putting the call on speakerphone and leaving the device on the little ledge to your right, where your bath products are lined up ready for use.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” he sounds utterly bewildered.
“Jungkook, the last time you called me, you thought aliens had abducted you,” you remind flatly.
“In my defence, I was really drunk and forgot where I was.”
“I still don’t know why you rang me of all people.”
“Gyu told me to. He would’ve done it, but he was too busy crying about not wanting to be probed by anyone but you. Did you ever peg him, by the way?”
“Pretty sure you didn’t call me at 11am on a Monday to ask that,” you muse, adjusting so that you can reach a lump of bubbles floating just out of arms’ length, to hold them in your hands and watch the rainbows dance on their shiny, curved surface.
“You’re right. We’ll circle back,” he decides, and you huff a laugh out. “Have you got a sitter for Tae for Wonwoo’s wedding yet?”
“Wonwoo’s wedding?” you repeat, lifting your head as you think about it. “Oh, no, we decided that I’m not going, just Gyu. We don’t want to leave Tae all those hours when we’re out of the city. It wouldn’t be so bad if it was closer, but it’s too far for us to be comfortable with that.”
“Oh, in that case, do you think you’d be able to watch Jihoon?”
“Jihoon? Why would I watch Jihoon?” you mumble confused.
“Babe, Wonwoo’s my cousin, remember? He and Yoongi may not be related by blood, but they still consider each other cousins.”
“Oh yeah, right. Forgot you’re related for a sec.”
Jungkook snorts an amused laugh before talking. “Mm, so, what do you think? I was going to ask if you think your sitter would watch Jihoon too, but if it’s you, it’s even better because he knows you! Wonwoo’s asking about Yoongi’s RSVP for the sake of seating and catering; he needs it before the end of the week really.”
You hum in understanding, remembering how stressful getting responses for your own wedding invitations was, and you and Mingyu had kept it small. You’re not very close with Wonwoo, but he has enthused a few times about the wedding plans when you’ve crossed paths, clearly very excited to create the big, beautiful wedding of his dreams. Luckily, his wife-to-be is just as enthusiastic, and the pair have extended the invitation to pretty much all of their friends and family to join them in celebrating the union. You know it’s going to be huge, and you don’t envy them for all the work they have to do, but you do sympathise. A lot.
“Well, I’m more than happy to watch Jihoon, yeah; he’s a sweet kid,” you answer.
“He is, he’s great,” Jungkook agrees quickly, cutting you off, but you don’t mind and just giggle instead. He sounds so genuinely fond of his nephew that you’ll never be anything but endeared by the man butting in to praise the little boy.
“But obviously, it all depends on if he would be okay with staying the night here with me and Tae. I know they’re booking a whole bunch of hotels for their guests, so Yoongi will stay there, and even if not, it’ll be too late by the time he gets back for Jihoon to still realistically be awake and endure the drive home. Plus, it’d be nice for Yoongi have some time off the dad clock.”
“It would. I don’t think he’s had any time for himself since the bitch left, other than when Ji’s in bed.” You can’t help but linger on the fact Jungkook refers to who you can only assume is Jihoon’s mother as “the bitch”— which coming from a man who doesn’t like to call people such names, says a lot—, plus, the venom in which he hisses the insult. You’re beyond curious about Jihoon’s mother, Yoongi’s ex-wife, but it’s not your place to ask. Yoongi obviously doesn’t want to even be your friend, so there’s no way he’d be happy to know his brother told you about the woman he was supposed to have a family with.
“Mm, so, as I said, I’m fine with it as long as Jihoon is. And obviously, Yoongi and I would need to discuss it properly to figure out logistics and such.”
“Mm, yeah, yeah, I’ll call him after school today to let him know you’re available….and convince him to actually agree to go to the wedding that is.”
For a second, you’re quiet as you let his words settle. “Jungkook.”
“Yes, beautiful?” he coos, extra sweet, knowing that you’re using your stern tone— something you’ve used on him many times over the years when he’s done something you don’t approve of, or he’s just being plain stupid.
“Why does that sound like Yoongi doesn’t even know you’re asking me any of this.”
“I have no idea, you gorgeous, stunning, jaw-dropping–” he cuts off with a giggle when you sigh heavily. “Okay, so maybe I haven’t mentioned anything to him yet. I’m at Wonwoo’s right now and he asked me; said Yoongi’s been saying he can’t because of Ji, and everyone who he trusts to look after him will be there.”
“Jin’s going?” you ask, trying to recall if Wonwoo was at Seokjin’s wedding, if the pair even know each other that well, but there were so many people at the wedding that you didn’t get a chance to even take in half of them; and with Wonwoo being a photographer known for his specific brand of angsty shots, he’s likely worked with Seokjin for more artsy fashion shoots. You just haven’t ever seen the pair interact before, and Wonwoo can be particular with the brands and models he works with, so you know there are a lot of people who have never worked with him despite how well-known he is.
“They’re on their second honeymoon then,” Jungkook says and you hum, recalling Seokjin vaguely mentioning booking a trip in February the last time you spoke to him a couple weeks back.
“Won’t that be their third?” you wonder, thinking about the recent bundle of photos Seokjin uploaded to his private social media— just for close friends and family— of him and Celeste off in a forest somewhere on a honeymoon, even though they had been on one immediately after their wedding.
“Oooh, right. To be honest, I think he’s just really going to milk this whole married thing and call any holiday they go on a honeymoon.”
You can help but laugh softly in agreement. “He will, but it’s sweet, how in love they are.”
“Mm, suppose. Anyway, Yoon says he’s got no-one and doesn’t know any sitters who can handle autistic kids, so I thought ‘hey, I know a foxy mama who—'”
“Don’t ever call me a foxy mama again,” you interrupt in a tone so unimpressed that Jungkook cracks up, cackling away down the phone, making you glad it’s not pressed to your ear right now. You’ve been attacked by that very laugh through the phone before, and it’s not something you want to ever experience again.
It takes Jungkook a minute to calm, during which time you just enjoy the warm water relaxing your muscles, dancing your fingers through the water, and idly humming softly to yourself as you wait.
“Hey, is that water I hear?” he asks when you abruptly lift your arm to combat the very sudden itch of your nose that you just can’t ignore.
You hum in confirmation. “I’m in the bath.” Jungkook gasps sharply, then hangs up, making you look at your phone utterly bewildered and a little concerned that something has happened to him. At least until seconds later, when a request for a video call comes through and you snort amusedly. After drying your hand, you reach over to accept, though leave your phone where it is, angled up to the ceiling. “Pervert.”
“Let me seeee,” he whines, not even trying to argue your accusation.
“No.”
“Fine, I’ll come over and join you!” You know he’s serious by the fact you can hear him moving.
“Fucking hell,” you huff and pick up your phone to angle it so that your shoulders and above are in view. “Happy?”
“Did you get prettier, huh?” he coos, grinning dumbly at the camera and failing to wink at you, making you laugh. At least he’s now stopped trying to rush over to your house and he’s sitting back down— you can only hope he’s found a room in Wonwoo’s house out of everyone’s ear shot to have this call. “Where’s Gyu? I actually did call him first because I know he’s not at work and you two talk about literally everything, especially about Tae, so I knew he’ll know about the sitter thing too, even if you’re the one who usually arranges it–”
“You’re rambling, bunny boy.”
“Right. I just suddenly have a lot of energy I need to get out.” He fails to wink again, and you just laugh. “I can’t believe my seduction attempts have one again been thwarted by my inability to wink.”
“You can wink,” you point out, having seen him do so before. “It just…comes and goes.”
“And I would like to go to your place and come–” He cuts himself off with a snigger when he sees you exaggeratedly rolling your eyes. “Okay, but seriously, what’s Gyu doing? Can I come over?”
“He’s grocery shopping.”
“Oh, he’s in the zone,” he realises. “No wonder he didn’t answer my calls. It’s so fucking weird how obsessive he gets grocery shopping.”
“It’s cute…as long as we’re not in a rush. He’s just particular about ingredients and wants to find a good bargain!” you defend your best friend, even if Mingyu’s particulars when grocery shopping have frustrated you on more than one occasion.
These days, you only go grocery shopping together if there isn’t a single plan for at least the following three hours, and if Taehyung isn’t with the pair of you. The poor boy gets so bored and more frustrated than you do when the two of you have to watch Mingyu stare between the same two punnets of grapes for ten straight minutes before he decides which one to buy. Which is extra frustrating when you know the man will eat pretty much anything put in front of him, so he has no reason to be so fussy when he buys groceries. He doesn’t even care if you bring home the most battered items in the store, he just cares what he buys. You’ll never understand, and you’re not even sure Mingyu does himself, but you leave him to it, and he’s usually happy shopping alone anyway.
“Mm, sure, sure,” Jungkook replies, not at all agreeing, just placating you, and you roll your eyes again. “You know, I could give you an even better reason to roll your eyes,” he says, extra sleazy, and finally manages to wink through the camera at you this time. “I did it! That’s worth at least a boob shot.”
“I can’t tell if you mean you mean that as a sex act, or for me to angle the camera down,” you admit amusedly.
“Uhh, honestly, if you show me your tits right now, I will be running to my car and heading straight over. So consider that carefully. If I see the tiddies, I’m gonna come over and put them in my mouth,” he warns, making you laugh. “I’m serious.” He looks it too, completely straight faced and eyes a little dark where they’re focused on the bottom of his screen, as if he can use the power of sheer want to get your bare chest in camera range.
“I know. You’re so cute, Kookie,” you coo. Seconds before the bathroom door opens, you hear familiar footsteps, so you just look over unworried as Mingyu enters your bathroom without even knocking the door. “Done shopping already?” you question bewildered, he only left half an hour ago.
“I got all the way there and realised I forgot the bags,” Mingyu admits, crossing the room to squat down beside the tub with his arms crossed on the edge. “And I knew you’d kill me if I bought more when we have so many.”
“I would,” you confirm simply, thinking of the frankly far too expansive collection of reusable shopping bags— even the fancy insulated ones— that the pair of you have collected over the years living together, yet still often forget to take shopping with you. You tend to keep a stash in the boot of your car ready, but Mingyu always forgets to restock the ones you try to get him to keep in his own car. More often than not, he does drive yours though— simply because it’s bigger and more comfortable—, but sometimes he does actually drive his own car when it’s just him, though you never know until you find your car missing from the driveway when you peer out of the window. At least you have full access to his car too, and there’s a spare car seat for Taehyung in the garage if you ever need it when you have Taehyung with you.
“Who’re you talking to?” he wonders, suddenly realising that the view on your phone screen isn’t a video, but a video call, making him frown confusedly about the fact you’re video calling someone while naked. Though when you turn the phone and his best friend waves at him, Mingyu huffs a laugh. “Hi, Koo. This is why my call didn’t go through then; you’re trying to fuck my baby mama again.”
“Trying being the keyword,” Jungkook answers shamelessly with a nod to match, making Mingyu snicker. “She won’t even let me see the tiddies.”
“You literally just said you’d come straight over and put them in your mouth if I did!” you defend. “I am trying to have a relaxing bath here.”
“Does that mean you don’t want to come shopping with me?” Mingyu asks, pouting at you in an adorably sad kind of kicked puppy-dog way. “I was bored on my own.”
“Seriously?” you mutter while giving him an unimpressed look, though he knows he’s got you, he’s already grinning victoriously and bouncing up to reach over and pull the plug from the bath to begin draining the water.
“This is exactly why people think you’re still together,” Jungkook sniggers, watching you give in to your ex-husband so easily after him doing nothing more than pouting for your company. Admittedly, it’s not the first time you’ve given in so easily to Mingyu wanting your attention— actually, it’s pretty damn regular—, and you’re very certain it’ll likely continue for as long as you remain such good friends.
“We’re soulmates, that’s why,” Mingyu announces, taking your phone and talking to Jungkook himself as you get out of the tub and dry yourself off with a towel diligently. Suddenly, when you’re bending over to dry your feet, you realise that Mingyu is weirdly silent, and so you look over at him curiously, only to find his gaze glued to you. You raise a pointed eyebrow at him, making him sigh defeatedly. “Why did we agree no sex when we divorced? I still think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met and seeing you literally naked and bent over in front of me is cruel, baby.”
“Naked and bent over?” Jungkook repeats, sounding a little pained. “Quick, switch camera view, Gyu!”
“No. My eyes only,” Mingyu argues extra childishly, still watching you as you finish drying off, then hang the towel on the heated rail for it to dry off. You walk over to Mingyu and carefully tuck up at his side, so although Jungkook can see you again now, your nude body is out of his view. Mingyu is still staring down at you with a darkness growing in his gaze that, admittedly, still makes your body begin to grow warm, remembering how well he always worshipped your body when you were together.
Honestly, sometimes it’s hard to remember that you both were very adamant on being nothing but friends once you divorced; cutting off sexual intimacy between you for the sake of not blurring any lines.
It’s even harder to remember when Mingyu looks at you like this, like he wants to drop to his knees right now and bury his face between your thighs until he can’t breathe; and then keep going until you have to force his head out and hold him back by a fistful of hair until he’s returned oxygen to his lungs. That particular circumstance was a very regular occurrence ever since the first time the two of you had sex all those years back. You honestly think Mingyu prefers giving oral than actually fucking with how he would beg for it sometimes, then not even try to do anything else when his chest was heavy, face messy, and eyes so dark and crazed you’re pretty sure he wasn’t even mentally present in the real world anymore.
Thinking of that, of how good Mingyu always was, how desperate to please you, it does make you almost forget why you can’t push him down onto the nearest surface— floor included— and climb onto his face. It’s even harder when you’re pretty sure he’d let you and be so enthusiastically grateful about it too. But you can’t risk things getting confused between the two of you, not when it could ruin everything and you have a son to consider.
“Don’t forget to call Yoongi about Jihoon staying here,” you say to Jungkook, who nods, letting out a soft, slightly disappointed breath knowing this is you ending the conversation and he won’t be getting a view of your naked body or the chance to drive over and see it up close.
“What?” Mingyu murmurs confused, frowning at you slightly in bewilderment, yet turns to say goodbye to Jungkook when you do, then hangs up and locks your phone while toddling after you into your room, no longer staring at your body but the back of your head in curiosity. “What’s that about Jihoon staying here?”
“So Yoongi can go to Wonwoo’s wedding. Koo asked if we have a sitter for Tae for it because he was going to see if they would also be able to look after Jihoon, as we would’ve already found someone suitable to watch a child with autism, and Yoongi doesn’t know any sitters, especially ones like that.”
“Ah, you told him you’re not going,” he understands, and reaches past you to shuffle through the clothes hanging in front of you now that you’re in your walk-in wardrobe. You leave him to pick out your outfit while you pull on your underwear and apply your skin care.
When you’re done and head over to your bed where Mingyu is comfortably reclined in wait, you’re not at all surprised to find that the outfit laid out at his side ready for you matches the one he’s wearing. Taehyung gets his love of matching from his dad, after all.
It’s not until Wednesday that you hear anything back about potentially looking after Jihoon in February so that Yoongi can attend his cousin’s wedding.
When Mingyu returns home from picking Taehyung up from school— the little boy happily bouncing along at his side and already animatedly telling you everything he did at school today—, Mingyu holds out a little folded piece of paper to you with a sly, suggestive grin. You give him a questioning look, but he just winks at you then walks off, so you turn back to your son and leave the paper alone until he’s done talking.
As soon as Taehyung darts off to take his water bottle to the kitchen ready to be cleaned and refilled for tomorrow, you focus on the paper in your hand. Unfolding it, you’re met with neat handwriting of a note with your name at the top, and to your surprise, Yoongi’s name and phone number at the bottom.
The note doesn’t say much, just that Jungkook talked to him, and although Yoongi isn’t certain Jihoon will be okay with it, he at least appreciates the offer and would like to meet to discuss it; he’d really like to attend Wonwoo’s wedding and play the piano for his cousin’s first dance, like Wonwoo has asked him to do since they were kids. You can’t help but think how sweet it is, both of Wonwoo to want his cousin to play the piano at his wedding for his first dance with his new wife, but for Yoongi to want to do it so much that he’s willing to leave Jihoon with someone he doesn’t consider family.
Although you know Yoongi will still be at the school now and won’t finish work for a little bit as he finishes up whatever he needs to after class, you grab your phone, save his number, and send him a text to suggest he and Jihoon come over this Saturday after lunch to discuss it and gauge Jihoon’s comfort at your house.
Then, you put down your phone and forget about it for the following few hours as you focus on your family, until you find a response from Yoongi agreeing, and something in your chest flutters at the thought of seeing him in your family home this weekend.
By the time the doorbell rings on Saturday afternoon, Taehyung is all but vibrating out of his skin. Ever since you told him last night that Yoongi and Jihoon will be visiting for a few hours today, Taehyung has not stopped talking about everything he wants to show them, everything he wants to do with Jihoon.
You and Mingyu have both had to remind your son a few times that Jihoon likes much calmer things, not running around and lots of stimulation like Taehyung does. He always nods at the reminder and calms down, thinks of calmer things until he inevitably forgets in his excitement.
As you head to the front door, you can hear Mingyu gently reminding Taehyung one final time to be gentle with Jihoon and not overwhelm him with toys, games, and options.
“Hi, welcome!” you greet once you open the door to the father-son duo standing on your little porch. You’re not surprised to find them in matching coats, beanies, and boots, though it does make you smile a little brighter, utterly endeared. “Come on in,” you offer, stepping aside and motioning into the house.
Yoongi softly nudges Jihoon encouragingly on the back, so the boy tentatively enters first with his dad right behind him, the man giving you a little smile in grateful greeting before you shut the door and motion to where they can put their shoes, and the slippers that Taehyung had diligently set up— and straightened a dozen times— as soon as he rushed excitedly downstairs this morning barely awake.
“Thank you for inviting us over,” Yoongi says when you’re hanging up their coats in the coat closet, door open on your right and the pair in view as Jihoon carefully peers around what he can see of the house from the entrance hall.
“Of course, Taehyung has been really excited to hang out with you more, Jihoon,” you inform, careful not to give away the real reason they’re here, just in case after discussing it with Yoongi thoroughly, the pair of you decide that Jihoon staying with you for the night won’t work out. You don’t want to risk upsetting the boys by prematurely telling them about a sleepover that can’t even happen. Not that you’re even sure if Jihoon would be excited to have a sleepover with Taehyung, but you’d rather not risk it.
“Oh,” Jihoon mutters softly, looking down at the slippers on his feet. You can see him wiggling his toes, pressing them up against the material, and you hope he finds them comfortable. They’re technically Taehyung’s, extra soft and very expensive— more than you’d ever pay for slippers if it wasn’t for his sensory struggles—, but your son is adamantly against wearing shoes when he doesn’t have to; something he actually gets from you. You never wear slippers at home, only Mingyu does, and he still gives the pair of you judging looks when you both remove your socks too and pad around barefoot.
Figuring Jihoon isn’t feeling particularly verbal right now, you lead the pair into the living room, where Mingyu is physically holding Taehyung down to stop the boy running off to greet the Min family with probably too much excitement to not overwhelm poor Jihoon the second he walks into the house.
“Hey,” Mingyu grins at the pair. “Welcome to our home!”
“I call can you Yoongi ‘gain?” Taehyung immediately asks his teacher, who chuckles and nods in consent. “Yoongi!” he cheers, wriggling out of his dad’s arms to dart over and hug Yoongi, who doesn’t fail to return the affection, just like always. “Ji, Ji, wanna watch anime?” Taehyung asks, bouncing over to Jihoon as soon as the hug breaks, though he respectfully doesn’t get to close, and is careful to not raise his voice or bounce too much as the older boy glances at him. “We can watch in my playroom! I have many lots pillows, and beanbaggies, and blankets, and soft, soft, soft teddies!”
“Baby, how about we let Jihoon and Yoongi get comfortable and used to the house first?” Mingyu suggests, noticing that Jihoon is shrinking in on himself a little.
“Oh, okay!” Taehyung bounces off to clamber back onto his dad’s lap. “Want watch nice music?” he suggests, already picking up the TV remote from the couch beside Mingyu to switch to YouTube and find the very same video you played for Jihoon in the hotel that day. Jihoon must recognise the music because as soon as it starts to play, he lifts his head enough to peer up at the large screen, then gingerly moves over to sit on the other end of the sofa to the pair and watch.
“I should really find this video and save it,” Yoongi muses quietly on your right, suddenly a lot closer having walked further in once his son had bravely moved first.
“I’ll send you the link to the playlist,” you offer, looking at him, and he looks away from the TV to give you a little, grateful grin. “Go sit, I’ll grab drinks, what do you two like? Coffee, tea, hot chocolate, water, juice…” you trail off, trying to remember exactly what beverages you have, knowing that all three members of your family have the bad habit of finding new drinks interesting in the store, yet by the time you get home, you no longer want to try them, so they get added to the collection for a later date. At least there are always a lot of drink options for guests to choose from.
“Is it alright if I come look what you’ve got? Hoon can be particular about like juice brands and stuff,” Yoongi responds, looking a little awkward about asking.
“Yoongi,” you start in an amused little tone as you rest a hand on his upper arm. “If anyone understands, it’s me, you don’t need to be embarrassed about asking.”
“Right, yeah, sorry.” He smiles at you, slightly sheepish, yet also grateful, before he follows you through to the kitchen. “Oh wow,” he mutters when you open the side of the double fridge reserved mostly for drinks, with some healthy snacks set on the bottom shelf for Taehyung to reach whenever he wants them. “That’s a lot of options.”
“Yeah, we’re a family of compulsive drink buyers it seems,” you muse with a little giggle as you step aside to give Yoongi the space to explore the options at his own pace.
“Buyers and not drinkers, it seems,” he jokes and you giggle again. Yoongi shoots you a quick look, lips curled up in a smile, before he turns his full attention to the bottles, cans, and cartons neatly arranged on the shelves.
“How about daddy, then?” you ask once you’ve topped up the water in the coffee machine ready for use. You hear items hitting one another and turn to find Yoongi fumbling to straighten the drinks he had knocked over. “You okay?”
“Y–yeah–yep!” he replies while quickly glancing at you, giving you a short view of the soft pink suddenly painting the high points of his cheeks.
“Alright,” your tone is a little suspicious because the man is too flustered to not be lying, but you decide to let him have his secrets. “So, what would you like to drink?”
“Oh uhm, a coffee would be great, thanks.”
“On it!”
Once Yoongi has grabbed a drink for Jihoon— and commented that it’s Jihoon’s favourite, so you make a mental note to buy more— he takes it through to the living room while you finish making the hot drinks, including a hot chocolate for Taehyung because the boy always wants one when you and Mingyu both have hot drinks. You’re pretty sure he likes it because it makes him feel involved, and maybe even like a mini adult, as the three of you sit with your matching mugs together.
As soon as you place the tray of steaming mugs onto the coffee table, Taehyung gasps excitedly and scoots over to sit on the floor up to the low table, pulling his favourite coaster— shaped like a daisy— forward for you to place his adorable little mug on with a little spoon beside it.
“Thank you!” he chirps, big eyes glued to the marshmallows bobbing in his mug and already picking up the spoon to scoop up one of the sweet treats.
“Here, you can help yourself, Jihoon,” you offer the boy as you place a few packets of sweet snacks down after removing them from the tray. Taehyung doesn’t hesitate to grab a packet of mini cookies, and thankfully, it encourages Jihoon to join the younger boy at the coffee table and pick a snack for himself.
“Babe, pass the marshmallows,” Mingyu calls, extending one arm towards the table and making a grabby hand.
“Manners, daddy,” Taehyung reminds.
“Please, babe, pass the marshmallows,” Mingyu corrects himself, making you grin to yourself amusedly while tossing over the tub of mini marshmallows.
“Yoongi, fancy something?” you check, motioning to the options.
“No, thanks,” he replies from where he’s settled comfortably on the sofa in one corner; Mingyu is in the other, so you plop down in the space in the middle. The sofa is large enough that there’s still room on either side of you for another adult, and you take advantage of that room to bring your legs up to cross under you comfortably.
Surprisingly, it feels like this is something the five of you often do; it feels natural to sit there with your drinks and snacks, the only sound the videos playing on the TV.
When you glance at Yoongi on your right, he looks pretty comfortable, eyes mostly on the TV as he sips at his coffee— making a pleased little expression every time the flavour coats his tongue, causing you to preen secretly, proud to have made him something he likes so much— but intermittently glancing down at his son to check in on the boy.
As far as you can tell, Jihoon looks content too as he ever so gradually makes his way through the snack he picked, and sips at his drink. It makes your lips curl up a little when you spot Jihoon making the same pleased face with his drink as his dad does his own. It’s endlessly endearing how much the boy takes after his father; how much he obviously looks up to the man to copy him, even subconsciously, as much as he does.
Although Taehyung usually jumps up after he finishes his hot chocolate— either to cuddle up to you, Mingyu, or a plushie; or to find something to do to get his fresh energy out—, he sits there today, eyes flickering to Jihoon on his right routinely. You can see that Taehyung has some energy to get out; he keeps fidgeting and adjusting his seated position frequently enough that Jihoon glances at him with a little furrow of his eyebrows.
“Tae, why don’t we go get your energy out, huh?” Mingyu suggests, already getting up. “Then after, maybe Jihoon will like to join us in the playroom, and we can watch that show you said you think he’ll like?”
“Yeah!” Taehyung enthuses, turning wide eyes on Jihoon. “We watch anime after I do my zoomies?” he requests. “It has many lots good songs! They are very pretty songs.”
“Oh, okay,” Jihoon agrees after taking a couple of seconds to consider it.
“Yay!” Taehyung cheers, getting to his feet to immediately run at his dad. Mingyu turns and darts off with a cheeky grin, and Taehyung laughs before happily following, determined to catch his dad. “I will get you!”
“Never!” Mingyu calls back, then the pair are out of the room, and you can hear them running through the kitchen, so you know Mingyu is taking Taehyung out to the back garden where they can screech and yell as they play as much as they like without disturbing the calm of the house. You’re not at all surprised when you hear Mingyu collide with the new stools at the breakfast bar, toppling them over while Taehyung cackles at his dad.
“I told him he’ll run into bigger stools,” you muse, glancing at Yoongi. “The old stools were smaller and tucked under the breakfast bar easily; these ones stick out a bit, but Gyu’s a giant, so we need giant stools, apparently.”
“The cons of being tall,” Yoongi replies with a little grin that makes you giggle.
After a few more minutes, Jihoon is done eating and glances at the sofa, so you shuffle over into the now empty corner, giving him space to join if he wants to. It makes you feel like you’ve done something right when he doesn’t hesitate to get up and clamber into your previous seat, leaving an equal distance on either side of him. You thought he’d sit nearer his dad— his source of comfort and safe space—, but he seems happy where he is. You smile to yourself as you turn your head away from him to focus back on the TV and let the calm envelop you.
By the time Taehyung and Mingyu return, pink cheeked and bringing a chill from the autumn air, you’ve managed to have a conversation with Jihoon. A very successful conversation about his favourite snacks and drinks if you do say so yourself. Yoongi barely even participated either, just at the start to help prompt Jihoon along to respond to your attempt at conversation, but then the boy seemed to relax and answered you easily enough. Admittedly, he’s still pretty withdrawn, but you still feel like it’s a big step and good sign; and judging by the tender-proud look on Yoongi’s face, he feels the same way.
“I got my zoomies out!” Taehyung announces once he toddles into the living room. He grabs his water bottle from the coffee table and sucks down a fair amount before looking expectantly at Jihoon, chest heaving as he catches his breath from drinking so much at once.
“I think Tae is trying to ask if you want to go watch anime now,” you state to Jihoon amusedly. Taehyung nods enthusiastically, then beams when Jihoon slides off the sofa.
“I’ll be right here,” Yoongi assures gently when Jihoon looks at him for support. For a second, it looks like Jihoon might return to his dad’s side, but he gathers his nerve and nods in understanding before turning to follow Taehyung out of the living room and upstairs to the playroom. You assume Mingyu is already there, based on the thud of something being dropped upstairs; you’re not even surprised by that at this point and don’t react to the soft thud.
“Let me clean up all this, then we can talk about February while they’re occupied,” you suggest, already getting up to gather all the mugs and empty wrappers onto the tray to take to the kitchen.
“I can help,” Yoongi offers, shuffling to the edge of his seat but you make a noise and wave him off.
“You’re our guest, you just sit. Plus, it’s easy enough for me to handle alone,” you assure, and prove your point by lifting the tray. “You can put something else on if you want,” you offer, motioning vaguely to the TV with a tilt of your head before leaving the living room.
Only a couple of minutes later, you’re back with fresh drinks for you both, and Yoongi is curiously flicking through the videos on the playlist still playing.
“This is a good playlist,” he comments once you’re sitting comfortably back in your corner, though now curled up with your shoulder against the back rest so you’re facing him instead of the TV. “I recognise some of the songs in the titles, but a lot I’ve never heard of. They’re all calming?”
“Yeah. They have a bunch more on their channel, but these ones work for Tae the best,” you answer, propping your head on your fist as you rest your elbow on the back of the sofa. “They also have some really upbeat ones too, and Tae listens to them when he wants to bounce around, but it’s mostly the calm playlist. I’ll share this playlist with you, but obviously you can make your own version, though Jihoon seems to like this one.”
“He really does. I tried to find the videos after that day in the hotel, but I didn’t really know what to search or anything, so I was just aimlessly scrolling for, like, an hour,” he admits with a chuckle before placing the remote back on the table to instead pick up his mug of steaming coffee to cup in his hands. He adjusts his position so that he’s angled more towards you and tucks his left foot under his right thigh to make it and easier position to be in. Weirdly, it makes you smile to yourself; he looks so comfortable and almost at home in your house despite it being the first time he’s visited. Something about it feels right to you, and your chest flutters with soft warmth.
You take a moment to silently appreciate the ease between you— and the man before you—, and only once he’s settled in his seat do you decide to start talking. “He seems okay so far, I think it’s a good sign, right?”
“Mm, definitely,” Yoongi confirms with a nod. “I think that by the time February comes around, and after spending more time together, he’ll be okay to stay for a night.”
“We can definitely do a trial or two beforehand; so that he can try it out while you’re still in town if he can’t handle it and needs to go home.”
“I’d really appreciate that. I mean, I appreciate all this anyway; you being so open and willing to try this out and look after him for me. I don’t exactly have anyone who I can rely on this much, only Kook and Jin, and they’re always busy, so it really means a lot to me that you’re giving us this chance.”
“You deserve to have someone to rely on like this, Yoongi. And the opportunity for a break and time to yourself while knowing your son is safe and in capable hands, somewhere he’s understood. Well, as best as we can understand him, of course. I’m not assuming I’ll know everything and be able to handle every eventuality by then, but that’s not even something we can say after a lifetime with a child. We’re still learning more about Tae all the time and I literally birthed him,” you joke.
Yoongi chuckles, nodding understandingly. “Yeah, I get it. Even kids without these extra needs will constantly be changing, learning, and growing, so it’s impossible to ever know everything about how to handle anything they or life may throw at us.”
“Exactly! The best we can do is prepare with what we know and do our best.” He hums in agreement. “With that in mind, what do I need to know about the cutie?”
“Well…” He lets out a breath then pulls his phone out. “I actually did write up a document with everything I could think of, just so I didn’t forget anything, though I still probably have. Is it okay if I send it to you? I didn’t want to just shove that on you without permission.”
“Of course, send away!” you assure, already grabbing your phone ready to read the document as soon as you receive it. “The more I know, the better. And with it written down, I can refer back to it when I need to.”
“Great, thanks. Some people can be funny about like, written instructions like this,” he says, more of a mumble as he focuses on sending the correct document to you on his phone.
“Mm, like you’re implying they’re incompetent and can’t do it without step-by-step guidance.”
“Yes!” Yoongi lifts his head to look at you with slightly widened eyes. “That’s exactly what I mean. Why do some people insist on making everything about them?” he huffs, almost pouting; it takes everything in you to not react to how cute he looks.
“One of life’s great mysteries,” you respond in a dramatically solemn tone that makes Yoongi’s almost sulky expression break as he laughs. “Does Jihoon know about the wedding?” you wonder as you open the document on your phone now that it’s come through successfully.
“He knows Wonwoo is getting married, but not that I might go. I don’t want to say anything to him until I know for certain.”
“Understandable. Tae obviously knows that Gyu is going but not about this.” You motion vaguely between the two of you before crawling across the cushions closer to him— unaware of the slightly alarmed expression that crosses his face at your unexpected move—, so that you can sit close enough to show him your screen. “Can you clarify on this?” you request and look at the man in time to see his posture relax, confusing you a little, but you aren’t given the chance to ponder on it as Yoongi peers at your screen then begins to explain in better detail what information on the document means.
By the time Yoongi and Jihoon leave that evening, you know Jihoon far better than you ever expected to— at least on paper—, and you feel far more confident that you can properly watch over the boy for a day while his dad is out of town.
Jihoon seems to relax a lot more too. You even hear him laughing cutely when Taehyung needs another round of garden zoomies with his dad, and Jihoon accompanies them outside— though doesn’t run around with them, but he does at least perch on the swing and watch the pair with a big smile.
Still, as much as the day seems to have been a great help, you and Yoongi both know that Jihoon is nowhere near ready for a sleepover without his dad— or even to spend a few hours at your house without the man—, so you make plans to meet every Saturday for the foreseeable future. You both hope that spending more time together will help ease Jihoon into feeling comfortable and safe with you and Taehyung, while also making sure that you can handle potential issues that may crop up while Yoongi is right there to teach you what his son needs to regulate and relax.
Even though you’ve agreed to not tell the boys about the potential sleepover— in worry of Taehyung getting upset if it doesn’t happen, and Jihoon feeling uneasy and therefore, unable to give you the chance to prove yourself to him—, you, of course, can’t hide the new plans from them, and let them know that the four of you are going to be spending time together regularly from now on. To no-one’s surprise, Taehyung is beyond excited about it, whereas Jihoon seems a little uncertain, but his smile doesn’t completely fade away with the news, and that really feels like a good sign.
As agreed, the next Saturday, you and Taehyung meet Yoongi at Jihoon’s favourite playpark.
When you arrive, you understand why Jihoon prefers this one out of all of the parks in the city. It’s nestled away almost secretly amongst a patch of trees in the middle of a neighbourhood that you’ve never even driven through before. There doesn’t seem to really be anything but residential buildings in the neighbourhood as far as you can see, not even a little family run restaurant or convenience store, so you can easily imagine that it’s always as quiet as it is now. Honestly, if you didn’t love your house so much, you would even consider having a curious look for house listings in this neighbourhood, it really is so calm.
“Hey, glad you found it,” Yoongi greets you when you get close enough to where he’s sitting on a bench just outside of the gated play park, with his arms already full of Taehyung— who hadn’t hesitated to run off ahead of you the second he saw his favourite teacher.
“It really is a hidden treasure, huh,” you muse, taking a seat on the bench and picking up your son’s backpack from where he’s carelessly dropped it onto the damp grass, now running off into the park. As you sit, you can easily spot Jihoon perched on the climbing frame, contently watching the world go by. You’re a little worried that Taehyung is going to ruin the older boy’s calm, yet Jihoon notices Taehyung approaching— hard to miss with the calls of “Ji! Ji!”—, and smiles a little before moving aside, silently inviting Taehyung up to join him.
“Mm, a previous student’s grandmother actually told me about it a couple years back,” Yoongi informs as you both watch your sons greet one another once Taehyung has clambered up the holds to the platform Jihoon is on. “She brought all her grandkids here, and said the locals look after the park well.”
“Oh, that’s really nice that they do that.” He hums in agreement. “I’m surprised we’re the only ones here if the locals love it so much.”
“Sometimes others come along, but I think there aren’t many kids who live locally. I think this neighbourhood has become a kind of retirement village,” he says with a chuckle. “There are a couple retirement homes; the block opposite the entrance is one, actually. I’m always getting comments from old folk about how cute Hoonie is, so, heads up, if any come along, they will coo over Tae.”
“It’s exactly what he deserves, he’s adorable and deserves all the cheek pinches,” you declare with a tinge of theatrics that make Yoongi laugh.
“Okay, I can’t even deny that; he really is such a sweet kid.”
“So’s Jihoon.”
“Yeah.” He lets out a little breath that sounds like it’s full of nothing but love for his son. “We did pretty good, huh?”
“We did indeed.”
The two of you sit and watch your sons play together for a while in content silence, just enjoying that the weather is still just nice enough to do this without worry of any of you getting cold.
“It’s Jihoon’s birthday soon; it’s on a Friday, but I thought seeing as we’re meeting on Saturdays anyway, would you two like to come over for lunch and cake? Jin and Cel will be there.”
“Oh, yeah, we’d love to,” you agree without hesitation, smiling at him. “Anything on the no way in hell list where gifts are concerned?”
“Mm, not that I can think of. You have that document with his triggers and such on, so I trust you won’t get anything that will set him off. And thankfully, he doesn’t like anything that annoys me really, so that’s not a concern,” he chuckles.
“Lucky, Taehyung loves glitter,” you comment, giving him a pained look that makes him laugh.
“I’ll buy him a whole set for his birthday,” he jokes, and laughs a little louder when you gently hit his arm in silent complaint. “I’m kidding, I’d never buy glitter as a gift, that’s just a giant fuck you to a parent.”
“And slime.”
“Yes!” he agrees. “And playdough. My parents bought Hoon so much playdough when he was little, and he was obsessed with it. I found it all over the place for days after he played with it.”
“So that’s a no to a giant playdough set?” you tease.
“Ugh, don’t give me flashbacks,” he retorts, making you snicker a laugh. “You know, I’m not even sure how he’d feel about it anymore.”
“Tae is either really into it, or doesn’t care at all, and it usually changes part way, so even he’s learned to just avoid it because he doesn’t want to tidy it up once he loses interest and the texture starts to get to him.”
“Least he learned.” You hum in agreement. “I actually meant to say that he doesn’t really want a party or anything, for his birthday.”
“Oh?” you turn your head to look at Yoongi curiously, though he’s watching the boys compete who can swing highest on the baby swings, despite the fact the swings more suited for their age group are perfectly available. You just hope that they don’t get stuck in them where their butts have dipped into the centres, legs flopping over the edge unable to fit.
“He’s been really into Japan since Tae gave him that snow globe and got him into anime, so I suggested we go in the winter break for a late birthday slash Christmas gift. Hoon’s really into the thought, even if he’s anxious about it too, but he actually mentioned Taehyung going too, as he’s the one that introduced him to anime. So, I was wondering if you guys would be interested in that? Going to Japan with us at the end of December?” he asks, now turning his head to look at your surprised expression. “Not like a full holiday together or anything, we can do our own things and just have a day to celebrate Hoon’s birthday, or an afternoon or something, depending.”
“Tae really wants to see the snowy mountains for his birthday,” you inform, earning a questioning look. “His birthday is at the end of December, so we were already planning to go to Japan,” you explain, lips turning up into an amused grin.
“Mm, especially as Tae said he wants Jihoon there.”
“Oh, really?” The man’s expression softens, looking so touched by your son’s wish to include his son in the boy’s birthday plans. “I’m not sure how Hoon will handle the snow, but celebrating their birthdays together sounds great.”
“We could travel there and back together, rent places near each other so that Gyu and I can support you with Jihoon, if you want?”
“That would actually be really good; I’m not great at travelling honestly, so knowing I have another pair of adults there to help will lessen a lot of my anxiety.”
“Then it’s a plan!” you declare, offering a hand for him to shake.
“Will Mingyu be okay with it?” he checks, looking amused, and hand hovering as if he’s waiting for the final confirmation before sealing the deal.
“I don’t see why not. But I can call him now to make sure,” you reason, already reaching into your coat pocket to grab your phone and dial Mingyu’s number.
“Hi, baby!” Mingyu chirps brightly as soon as the call connects, and as it’s on speakerphone, Yoongi hears and is visibly amused by it.
“You’re on speaker, Yoongi’s sitting with me,” you warn before your ex-husband can say something weirdly suggestive about your time with Yoongi— like he already did this morning, and last night, and multiple times since last weekend.
“Hi, Yoongi!” Mingyu greets.
“Hi, Yoongi!” Jungkook’s familiar voice yells, then all you hear is the pair squabbling; Mingyu complaining about Jungkook yelling in his ear, and Jungkook declaring that it’s Mingyu’s fault for not already having the call on speakerphone.
“Still so weird that your ex-husband is my baby brother’s best friend,” Yoongi mutters to you as the two continue to argue childishly. You only hum in agreement.
Honestly, you’re a little distracted by how Yoongi doesn’t seem to be reacting negatively in any way in regard to your connection to his brother. Jungkook must’ve told him by now about the two of you hooking up at Seokjin’s wedding, so the fact that Yoongi knows and isn’t reacting to that information at all can only mean that he really doesn’t think of you in that way at all. Yoongi has no interest in you past very platonic, and that makes a sour drop form in your chest.
It’s not like you’ve been deluding yourself into thinking the man has any romantic or sexual interest in you whatsoever. But there was a part of you that hoped that one day, he might. Having the confirmation that it won’t happen hurts more than you thought it would. Maybe, just maybe, you like Min Yoongi more than you realised.
“Guys,” you interrupt the bickering duo before you can get too deep into your self-pity; you can save that for later.
“Yeah, babe?” Mingyu asks, and Jungkook mimics him before cackling at the audible slap Mingyu must land on Jungkook in retaliation.
“Yoongi and I have been talking about the boys’ birthdays.”
“Oh?”
“Mm, Jihoon wants to visit Japan, and Yoongi was thinking of going at the end of December too. Considering both boys want the other there to celebrate and experience the home of anime together, we thought combining the trips would be a good idea. What do you think?”
“Hell yeah!” Mingyu cheers, sounding genuinely excited. “Man, we’re going to have so much fun. Has Jihoon been skiing before? Doesn’t matter, we’re going to go and I’m going to take a million videos of them waddling around like penguins in their snowsuits.”
“I think he’s in,” you muse to Yoongi over Mingyu’s excited rambling.
“Me too!” Jungkook exclaims. “I’m coming with you. I want a family Japan trip!”
“Yeah!” Mingyu enthuses. “Kookie can come along, right, babe? We can take the boys out and you two can chill at the accommodation!” he suggests.
“I mean, that does sound pretty good,” you say, looking at Yoongi in wait for his reaction.
“You can come, if you promise not to bring strangers back to the accommodation for sex, Kook,” Yoongi replies reasonably, landing a stern look on the phone in your hand as if his brother will see it.
“I won’t!” Jungkook promises. “It’s family time.”
“Alright, then I have no problem with it,” Yoongi says, and the two best friends on the other end of the call cheer happily, making you both laugh.
“Are you coming home for dinner tonight, Gyu?” you ask.
“Mm, no, we’re meeting the guys.”
“Okay, have fun both of you, and tell the guys I said hi.”
“Will do, baby. Have fun with the boys and Yoongi. Bye, Yoongi!” After the four of you have said goodbye properly, you end the call so that you can lock your phone and tuck it back away in your pocket safely.
“Have you looked into accommodation or anything yet?” Yoongi asks as the two of you resettle with eyes on the boys, where they’re now laid on the table of a picnic bench just outside of the fenced park to cloud gaze, pointing out different shapes to one another. You’re not close enough to hear what they’re saying, but you just know that Taehyung is likely coming up with imaginative stories based on the characters he finds in the fluff.
“Sort of, but only briefly. I think Gyu bookmarked some things on the family computer though. If you have no plans, do you want to come back for dinner, and we can discuss it more while the boys play? You can also teach me how to cook in a way Jihoon likes.”
“Oh, yeah, actually, that sounds really good, thanks.”
“This one looks good,” Yoongi says where he’s sitting at the breakfast bar with your laptop to research different accommodations and options while you cook dinner. At first, Yoongi had helped, just so that you know how to cut and prepare the foods so that Jihoon will eat it all, but then you shooed him off to your laptop where it’s been sitting on the dining table since last night. Though he moved it to the breakfast bar so that you can easier talk to one another without raising your voices and risking he boys overhearing.
Upon returning to the house earlier, the two of you had intended to check out the options Mingyu has bookmarked on the family computer since the idea of going to visit snowy mountains in December first cropped up back in summer. But as the boys are in the living room making use of the almost absurdly large TV to watch the same anime show they started last weekend, it’s not exactly possible to use the PC as it’s in the living room too, and neither of you want to risk the boys seeing what you’re doing until it’s set in stone.
“Mh?” you question, peering over and leaning onto the counter as he turns the laptop so that you can see the screen. “Oh, that’s pretty.”
“Yeah. The resort itself is pretty small and very private. It’s pretty expensive, I won’t lie but I figure it’s not really an issue for any of us?” his tone lifts at the end into a last-second question, as if he has suddenly realised that maybe you and Mingyu aren’t as financially comfortable as he previously assumed; or at the very least, you may not be comfortable with him making comments about the number in your bank account.
“I mean, I assume it’ll be fine unless it’s ridiculously extortionate pricing,” you reason amusedly. “And you have producer money still, I take it?”
“Oh, yeah. Royalties and all that,” he answers simply and nods, leaning awkwardly around so that he can also see the screen without turning it away from your view, and clicks through to find a particular accommodation and show you the price. He’s right, it is expensive, but he’s also right in that it’s not an issue. “There are multiple cabins but they’re all only two bed, so I don’t know if your family are okay with you sharing two rooms? Hoon and I can share one in our cabin and Kook can have the other; I’m fine with sharing a bed with Jihoon and he doesn’t mind either.”
“Oh yeah, that’s fine with us. Gyu and I usually room when we go on family trips.” That earns a surprised, and tentatively questioning look from Yoongi. It’s clear he wants to question why you still share a bed with your ex-husband, but he doesn’t know if he can. “I know, everyone finds it weird, but we don’t. We still consider each other our most precious friend, and nothing is ever uncomfortable. Other than when he insists on cuddling in hot weather, forgetting he sweats like fuck during his sleep. It’s pretty gross, I won’t lie,” you admit, earning a little snort of a laugh from the man.
“Sounds it.”
“Mm, but he’s cute, so he gets away with it.” You shrug and turn your attention back to the pans on the hob to check on the progress of dinner, so Yoongi settles back onto his stool and turns the laptop to face him again.
It’s quiet for a few minutes as you both work on your separate tasks, just the clicking of the laptop keys and clink of utensils filling the air. It feels weirdly domestic, and you have to force that thought out of your head before your mind clings to the image. The last thing you need is to get delusional about the future in store for you and Yoongi. Going on a family trip together doesn’t help either, but at least you’ll be in different cabins, so you won’t have to see him first thing in the morning and share sleepy breakfasts together; that really would fuck with your mind too much.
“Oh, these two cabins are pretty much next to each other,” he comments. “One has two double rooms, and the other a king-sized room and a bunk room. I think seeing as you’re going to be sharing with a sweaty giant, it would make sense for you guys to have the cabin with the king-sized room.”
“I’m going to tell Gyu you called him a sweaty giant,” you tease.
“Please don’t; he could break me so easily, he’s huge,” he mutters, eyes a little wide as he no doubt thinks about how buff your best friend is.
“I’m sure Kookie would come to the rescue of his big brother.”
“Nah, he’d say I deserve if for shit talking his bestie.”
“Okay, probably true; he’s always the first to defend Mingyu for anything,” you muse. “You have nothing to worry about anyway, Gyu would never hit you, not on purpose anyway. He’s clumsy as anything. But he wouldn’t hit you for that, just probably pout at you.”
“That might even be worse,” Yoongi mumbles almost dumbly. “Tae’s pout is lethal, and he has to have learned it from somewhere.”
“Oh yeah, he takes after his dad in most ways, the puppy eyes and pout especially,” you confirm, nodding.
“I’d rather Mingyu just punch me in the face than that,” Yoongi decides, making you giggle amusedly. “So, king-size and bunk room sound good to you?” he checks as he turns his gaze back to the laptop screen. You hum in confirmation. “They also have an option to have a vehicle rented and waiting at the cabin; and they seem to do one big enough for us to all fit, what do you think of that? I know we’ll be doing our own things a lot, but I figure we don’t really need two cars when there’s trains and buses and stuff.”
“Yeah, makes sense to me. We’ll put all our names down so any of us can drive it, yeah?”
“Mm, yeah, can do,” he agrees before falling quiet once again.
Although it took him a while, Jihoon ate everything on his plate happily, and you’re still riding that high of approval even once you and Yoongi are done cleaning up from dinner and are sitting in the living room looking at your laptop together while the boys get some air in the back garden while it’s still early enough to allow it.
“I think it’s perfect,” you decide once you’re both done thoroughly reading over the website of the resort, checking its location in relation to activities and necessities— such as the closest grocery store and public transport stations—, and that the cabins that suit your families are available for the time you want.
“Mm, do you need to check with Mingyu before booking?” Yoongi wonders, glancing at you briefly then back to where the curser hovers over the “book” option.
“No, he’ll go along with anything; he knows I’d look into it properly first,” you assure, and reach out to press his finger down onto the button with a giggle. He huffs a soft laugh then the two of you get started filling out the booking form as a bundle with both cabins and the car rental. “Oh, let me get my purse,” you mutter when it comes to the payment screen, and jump up to go find your purse so that you can grab your bank card. Though by the time you’ve returned, there’s a payment confirmation screen up, and Yoongi is tucking his wallet back into his jeans.
“You can send me the money later or whatever,” he decides, waving a dismissive hand. You just hum, knowing that one of you would have to send the other your family’s half of the money anyway, so it doesn’t really matter whose card details are put in for the resort info. “Let’s look at flights, yeah?”
The two of you spend a little while comparing flight deals and travel plans, including how to get to the accommodation from the airport, before deciding on the best method and overall deal, which you book on your card. You make sure to purchase the best seats, with room for the boys to wriggle and move as much as they need to, while potentially disturbing as few people as possible if either of them are overloaded and have a meltdown. You both think it shouldn’t happen, because the boys have been okay on the last flights, but you’d also rather prepare for the worst-case scenario.
Not long after you’re done finalising everything and dealing with the financial situation between you two, the boys come inside, cheeks chill-pinkened and hair a little wild from playing in the gentle breeze. And they both look so genuinely happy. It makes your chest warm to see how content they are together; how they truly seem to enjoy one another’s company so much and can find ways to play together that suits them both enough to have these precious smiles glued to their faces.
“C’mere,” you prompt, moving along the sofa to sit in the opposite corner as Yoongi, and pat the space between you. The pair both clamber up onto the sofa, and Taehyung immediately cuddles up to you. Although he doesn’t cuddle into his dad, Jihoon does sit close to Yoongi’s side, and ever so slightly leans into him. You watch Yoongi’s expression soften out; you can easily imagine that it always feels so special for Jihoon to initiate affection as it’s so rare, even if it’s something as small as this.
“Boys, are you able to listen for a bit?” Yoongi questions; you can’t help but immediately press your lips together, trying to hide your amused smile due to Yoongi using what you have to assume is his teacher voice. It works though, and both boys turn to look at him with attentive eyes. “So, we were thinking, as it’s something you both want to do for your birthday treats at the end of the year, we will all go to Japan together.”
Instantly, Taehyung gasps loud and sits upright, scrambling up onto his knees. You have to pull him back and onto your thighs to hold him tight, press his soul back into his body to prevent him from exploding out and landing on the father-son duo. You think that Yoongi wouldn’t really mind, and would likely just find it amusing, but you’re very positive that Jihoon would not be impressed.
“We go together?!” your son screeches. Jihoon flinches but doesn’t react to Taehyung otherwise. He’s still staring up at his dad with big eyes, but now his mouth is open in shock; you can’t tell if that’s a bad reaction or not.
“Yeah. We’ll have separate cabins, but we’ll travel together and spend some time together. Definitely to celebrate your birthdays, but we’ll also do our own things too.”
“I am excited Japan to go with you and Ji!”
“I’m excited too,” Yoongi replies, looking like he means it entirely, though there is a little concern in his eyes when they flicker to Jihoon, but he doesn’t linger on his son, no doubt knowing that Jihoon needs some time to work through the idea on his own.
“Oh,” Taehyung says, suddenly deflating as he turns his head to frown at you. “Daddy will be sad.”
“Oh, baby, daddy is coming too, silly,” you assure and kiss his forehead, smiling yourself when he’s smiling again in the few seconds it takes for you to press your lips to his skin and lean back. “And Uncle Kookie is coming along.”
You have no choice but to let go of your son when he starts to wriggle so much that his bony butt digs into your thigh, making you silently wince. Taehyung is more than happy to be set free to allow him to bounce and jump around the living room, clapping and making excited sounds, unable to keep his joy locked up inside. If it wasn’t for Jihoon, you wouldn’t want to even attempt to get Taehyung to try and calm down quite yet— you know he needs to get this out—, but Jihoon has curled his shoulders up to his ears and put his hands over them as he stares intently down at his legs, legs bouncing agitatedly.
Though before you can do more than adjust your position with the intention of reaching out to grab Taehyung and pull him back onto your lap to squeeze again— knowing it genuinely does help him sometimes—, Yoongi is sliding off of the sofa and approaching Taehyung. You watch intrigued as Yoongi kneels down in front of the boy and starts to quietly sing some notes. Slowly, Taehyung stops bouncing so much, his eyes and head stop rapidly moving— unable to focus on one thing— and instead, lock onto Yoongi’s mouth. Then, Taehyung’s sounds and hands stop their noise so that he can mimic his teacher, matching the notes with his own voice, though his hands continue to flap and flick at his sides for a few more moments.
“Good job,” Yoongi praises gently when Taehyung has calmed a lot and they’ve run through the scales multiple times together. “Would you like to show me the rhythm game you mentioned earlier?”
Taehyung nods and grabs Yoongi’s hand to excitedly lead him over to the cosy corner; the corner of the living room with an extra fluffy rug, cushions in all shapes and sizes, and a huge beanbag chair that Taehyung always sinks into and gets partially covered in, but he loves it. The pair sit on that beanbag together— Yoongi lets out a little yelp with how he immediately sinks into it quicker than expected, and Taehyung giggles— with the boy’s tablet to play the new, colourful rhythm game while sharing earphones so that you and Jihoon don’t hear the music playing.
Seeing that Jihoon still looks kind of tense, you stick to the trusty and tried method of relaxing him and turn on the soothing playlist— which you know the boy watches every day after school now since you sent his dad the link to it last weekend. As soon as the first video plays, Jihoon’s head lifts so that his eyes can find the screen, and immediately, as if just seeing the opening of the video is enough, his shoulders sink, loosening until his hands lower to his lap to let the soothing music reach his ears uninterrupted.
After a few minutes of sitting and watching the screen with the boy, you get up and go to the kitchen to prepare drinks; coffee for you and Yoongi, hot chocolate for Taehyung, and his favourite juice carton for Jihoon. Plus, a few snacks for everyone to help themselves to because Taehyung is so used to having mini cookies with his hot chocolate that he gets entirely thrown off and antsy if you don’t give him any these days.
While you’re waiting for the coffee machine to finish, you hear little socked feet enter the room and just know it’s Jihoon without looking; you know your son’s footsteps too well to confuse him for anyone else. Curiously, you look over and find Jihoon shuffling shyly closer to you, fingers fiddling with the hem of his jumper.
“Everything okay?” you check, keeping your tone soft. He nods, but hovers like he has something he wants to say, so you wait quietly, giving him the time he needs.
“I…I’m excited to go to Japan with you guys,” he announces in a shy little tone after a few more moments, when you’re setting the drinks on the tray now that the last drink is ready.
“We’re excited too,” you reply, smiling at him when he flickers his gaze up to you, before looking away again.
“Can Tae come over after school so we can watch videos about Japan together? I…I don’t know what Japan is like, so I want to learn before we go.”
“Oh, that sounds lovely, Jihoon; I’m sure Tae would love that. We’ll have to check with your daddy first though.” Jihoon nods in understanding, seeming not surprised that you’ve said that his dad’s permission is needed. Though he does look like he has both relaxed and lit up a little at your permission, as if he is truly excited about doing research with Taehyung ready for the trip.
“I will ask later,” he declares, then glances at the tray quickly, face twisting slightly.
“Oh, do you not want the juice today?” you ask, reaching out for it.
“Can…can I have a hot chocolate too, please?”
“Of course,” you assure. “I’ll put the juice back in the fridge and you can get it whenever you want, okay?”
“Okay.” He smiles, looking relieved, before he turns and toddles back to the living room leaving you to make him a hot chocolate with extra marshmallows. The boy is just too sweet to not spoil when you can.
Soon enough, it’s the day after Jihoon’s birthday, and you and Taehyung are going to the Min home to celebrate the little boy.
Though as Jihoon’s birthday was yesterday, Taehyung insisted that he needed a gift to take to school for the boy that isn’t the Studio Ghibli boxset that Taehyung is very excited to give to Jihoon today. Which resulted in you and Taehyung spending all of Thursday after school making a whole bunch of bracelets, keyrings, and other tiny little crafts for Taehyung to pick the very best of to give to Jihoon during their lunchbreak yesterday. Honestly, you’re pretty sure Jihoon won’t wear the bracelets because they will likely annoy him, but you think he’ll appreciate the sentiment anyway; he’s a good kid like that.
“Yoongi!” Taehyung calls as soon as the man opens the front door moments after Taehyung has knocked a little tune onto the door. You and Yoongi both laugh softly at Taehyung’s never-ending enthusiasm for calling his teacher by his first name at every possible chance.
“Hi, Tae,” Yoongi replies, easily accepting the big hug the boy gives him as if he didn’t see the man at school yesterday.
Due to the afterschool visits Taehyung has on Wednesdays for the boys to continue their self-imposed Japan research project, he doesn’t hesitate to put his shoes and coat in the correct places, and skip off further into the apartment, making himself at home easily while you work on removing your coat and boots.
“He’s really made himself at home already, huh?” you muse, and Yoongi chuckles, hanging up your coat for you as you work on wrestling your boots off your feet. You knew they’d be a pain in the ass to remove, but Taehyung insisted you wear them because he’s wearing his own tiny version. Fortunately, his boots have zips on the side so they’re easy to get on and off; yours, however, only have laces holding them together.
“Yeah, it’s cute.”
“He hasn’t gotten too comfortable, has he?” you worry, wincing a little at the thought of Taehyung unknowingly overstepping boundaries in his excitement.
“No, not at all. He’s as polite as always, you don’t have to worry,” Yoongi assures. “I honestly can’t even imagine him overstepping.”
While you’re still fighting with your boots— and Yoongi watches amusedly as you swear under your breath at the laces, and yourself for being weak to your son wanting to match—, the apartment door opens and in steps Seokjin and Celeste.
“Take this before I drop it,” Seokjin says, skipping over any greeting to thrust the large cakebox in his arms over to Yoongi. For his part, Yoongi takes it without issue, just an eyeroll, as if he’s used to this very scene playing out.
“Hey,” Celeste greets as she perches by your side on the bench to remove her own boots, her far easier to remove boots. “Those don’t look like fun to put on, or take off,” she muses when you’ve finally shoved your boot off with a victorious sound.
“They’re really not, but I am a mother easily manipulated by a cute face,” you reply with a theatrical sigh, making her laugh.
“She really understands that,” Seokjin says, already sans coat and shoes, and taking the cakebox back from his best friend. You and Yoongi exchange a surprised look before looking between the couple.
“Are you pregnant?” you ask Celeste quietly, not wanting to risk the boys overhearing.
“No,” she answers with a laugh.
“I meant my cute face,” Seokjin informs. You and Yoongi exchange another matching look, this one world-weary, and Seokjin immediately squawks in offense. “Hey!”
“I’m going to ban you from my apartment if you say shit like that here,” Yoongi warns, though judging by Seokjin’s eye roll, it’s not the first time Yoongi’s made that very same empty threat towards the broad-shouldered male.
The four of you make your way together through the apartment, with Yoongi by your side to point out where the different rooms are as it’s your first time in his home. You have to admit, something about it feels exactly like Yoongi; homely, comforting, with enough quirks and knickknacks to give little pops of parts of him that you’ve not had the chance to see much of yet. Of course, there’s also a lot of Jihoon in the apartment, and in some parts it seems more Jihoon than Yoongi, so you have to assume that those areas— like the armchair in the living room with a soft, anime printed blanket, and plushie draped on the seat— are the boy’s preferred spots.
The living room is empty of life, so you all walk down the hallway to pop your heads into Jihoon’s bedroom, where he’s sitting on the floor with Taehyung, and showing him what must be new figurines he got for his birthday yesterday, based on how Taehyung is looking at them with such awe as if he’s never seen them before. You know your son well enough to know that he definitely would’ve familiarised himself with them on previous visits if they were already in Jihoon’s possession.
“Hi, birthday boy! Seokjin crows, though he’s regulating his volume to keep it at a level he knows Jihoon can handle, without losing any of the playful enthusiasm from his tone.
“Hi, Uncle Jin,” Jihoon replies, then smiles at you and Celeste— greeting you both by name—, before he looks aside, shy under all the attention.
“Did daddy spoil you yesterday?” Seokjin coos, walking over to squat down with the boys and look at the figurines without touching. You recall a note on the document that Yoongi wrote for you about his son, stating that Jihoon can be very particular about his precious items, and doesn’t even let Yoongi touch them sometimes, so it’s always best to tread carefully with Jihoon’s personal possessions. Seokjin must know that information from knowing the boy since he was a baby.
“No,” Jihoon replies. “This is from Uncle Kookie,” he informs, motioning to the collection of figurines.
“Oh? Daddy didn’t spoil you? The audacity!” The theatrics makes both boys giggle, and Seokjin smiles, pleased at himself for making the pair laugh— and so cutely too. “Well, Cel and I will have to make up for that, won’t we?” he winks, then motions Celeste over, so the woman approaches and places the gift bag in her hands down.
It’s only now that Jihoon tentatively reaches for it and his jumper sleeve pulls back, that you notice two of the bracelets Taehyung made for him tied securely around the little boy’s wrist. Your lips turn up and you watch in content silence as Jihoon and Taehyung coo over the gifts the couple bought the boy.
When you glance at Yoongi a little on your left, he’s wearing the same soft expression and little smile as you can feel on your own face.
The six of you enjoy a lunch consisting of all of Jihoon’s favourite foods and drinks, followed by the cake Seokjin supplied. The birthday song isn’t sung, and you’re honestly glad about that because you always feel awkward singing it, let alone being the centre of attention; you can imagine that Jihoon would hate being sung to like that.
As soon as they’ve washed their hands and faces when they’re done eating, Jihoon and Taehyung excitedly settle on the sofa to watch one of the movies in the box set Jihoon had been genuinely thrilled with upon opening— he had lit up so brightly and beamed at you, and said his thanks multiple times as he read the list of movies included. You’re not sure which movie they pick to play, but the pair are both grinning as they sit tucked up under Jihoon’s anime blanket side by side, Jihoon holding his plushie from his chair, and Taehyung holding one from the boy’s bedroom— which Yoongi tells you Taehyung always holds when here, so Yoongi is planning to get Taehyung one of the weighted plushies for his birthday.
“Goddammit, they’re so cute,” Seokjin mumbles a little while later when he returns to join adult time at the kitchen table, once he’s back from the bathroom and stopping to hover in the living room doorway to watch the boys for a few moments.
“Yep,” you confirm simply. “Speaking of kids, I thought you were going to get started on your own on your first honeymoon?” you wonder, knowing that it’s not a sensitive topic; both Seokjin and Celeste have been open with you about it, about both doing fertility tests last year ready to expand their family. You know that medically, they should be more than able to conceive, and they’ve certainly had the time to try. Plus, neither had looked downtrodden or upset earlier when you questioned if Celeste is pregnant, so you are confident that they haven’t been having issues in that regard.
“We decided to wait a little longer,” Celeste answers. “But next year, we’ll be parents.” She sounds nothing but confident and certain that you nod, accepting her words easily. You’re already mentally planning an adorable, but absurd, gift you can buy for the baby that will outdo the absurdly large elephant plushie Seokjin bought for Taehyung when he was born. It still lives in Taehyung’s bedroom, and the boy sometimes drags it around the house to join him in his activities.
“And speaking of our wedding,” Seokjin says, grinning at you mischievously in a way you really don’t trust. It makes you want to shut him up before he can say whatever is on his mind, assuming it’s going to be something stupid, but you’re also very curious about what exactly is going on in that freaky head of his. “You finally gave in to Jungkookie, huh?”
“What?” Yoongi blurts out in a mutter that sounds mostly confused, but like he’s made an assumption he doesn’t really want to be true.
“Your baby brother has been trying to get her into bed with him ever since the divorce, and I saw them head hand in hand to his room at the hotel,” Seokjin answers, waving at you vaguely with the hand he’s been using to pick at the contents of the tray of cut fruit and veggies still left on the table for everyone to help themselves too, even if everything else has been cleaned up already.
It’s now that you see Yoongi’s expression rapidly change through multiple emotions before turning eerily blank, that you learn that despite Jungkook having assured you he’d tell his brother about the two of you, he hasn’t. “He didn’t tell you,” you realise, voice a quiet mumble.
“Why would he? Not my business,” Yoongi replies, tone a little harsh as he fiddles with his mug between his hands.
“I’m sorry, I thought you knew,” Seokjin apologises, looking nothing but guilty as he frowns at his best friend.
“It’s not my fucking business,” Yoongi repeats and gets to his feet. “Bathroom break,” he announces as he leaves.
“Shit, I really thought he knew,” Seokjin says, turning his attention to you.
“Me too. Kook said he’ll talk to him, but I guess he forgot.” You sigh. “He’ll…get over it right? Being left out?” you question worriedly.
Seokjin’s expression does something you don’t quite understand, but it makes your stomach twist a little, uneasy, like you’re missing something big. You don’t like it, so you look away from him and distract yourself by getting up to clean up the empty mugs, washing them by hand as the dishwasher is already turned on, and you don’t want to face the couple right now.
When Yoongi returns, he’s off; like he’s withdrawn into himself a little, and it makes you unsure how to react, what you’re supposed to do. It continues all afternoon and gets worse when Seokjin and Celeste leave do to their weekly grocery shop.
Although Yoongi is interacting with the boys to respond to their comments and questions about the movie you’re all watching— another from the boxset—, he barely even glances your way. It feels like the physical space between you turns into more than that, like he’s putting his walls back up, and it hurts. Hurts so much that as soon as the movie is over, you tell Taehyung that it’s time to go home. He tries to convince you to stay for “just one more movie”, but you’re firm, and he doesn’t push, knowing that it won’t get him what he wants.
While Taehyung sings along to the radio in his seat behind you on the drive home, your thoughts keep turning back to Yoongi’s blank expression; the wall building; the pain in your chest. All you can do is hope with everything in you that the friendship that has only just started to build, isn’t about to fall to pieces at your feet.
Don’t forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖
🐑Who: Lee Chan (Seventeen) x female reader
🐑What: Fluff. Humour. Strangers to Friends to Lovers. Vet reader. Simp Chan.
🐑Word count: 9.1k
🐑Warnings: Chan is such a precious little, shameless, obviously obsessed, dumbass. Profanity. A couple brief, vaguely suggestive comments/ thoughts/ themes. Sorta vague allusions/ assumptions of Hansol & Seungkwan dating but never explicitly confirmed. I don’t know anything about animals/ being a vet so it’s all glossed over— don’t take anything that is mentioned as pure fact. Kissing. Some alcohol consumption.
🐑Summary:
The day Chan first lays eyes on you, his life changes. The day after that, he suddenly becomes very interested in animals, with absolutely no relation to you being the new vet in town. Not that anyone believes him about that.
After all, subtlety has never been Chan’s strong suit.
I block any blank blog that interacts.
Masterlist
A/N- This was written as part of @dorereef’s spring event, The Reef In Bloom! This event has been such a joy to participate in, the other members have been so lovely and enthusiastic that I really hope to join up with them for another event soon 🥺💗
Honestly, in all the years Chan has known Hansol, he’s had zero interest in the farm Hansol’s family has owned and run for decades now. Especially not in the middle of winter when Chan could be doing better things, like being far away from the sheep trying to nibble the oversized coat he’s wearing that makes him look like a child wearing his dad’s coat.
Which, well, is kind of accurate, because it’s Hansol’s dad’s coat. Chan had fallen in a mud patch last night when the pair stumbled back after a night out drinking with their friends, and Hansol’s parents have always treated Chan like a second son and happily dote on him, so lending him a clean, cosy coat wasn’t even debated.
But the point is, it’s the middle of winter, Chan is fucking freezing, and Hansol has made him join him in the field to meet the new vet, who will apparently be overseeing the ewes through lambing season— not that Chan knows what that means. And Chan has no interest in this, but Hansol is persuasive in the way he stares without blinking until his opponent relents, and it freaks the fuck out of Chan, so he always relents.
“Are you sure I can’t curl up in the middle of them? They look so warm,” Chan bemoans, looking longingly at the huddle of sheep a little bit away from them, practically able to see steam rising from their fluffy bodies in the chilly air.
“Very positive that you cannot curl up amongst pregnant ewes, Chan,” Hansol confirms flatly, eyes on the near distance where a car is driving along the dirt tracks of the Choi farm towards the field they’re standing at the edge of.
“Ewe means lady sheep, right?” Chan checks, and Hansol gives him a flat look in response, before snorting a laugh, then looks away. “What?”
“Would I say they’re pregnant if they were gentlemen sheep?”
“I…I think I’m too hungover.”
“Nah, you’re always a dumbass,” Hansol retorts teasingly, then pushes off of the fence to approach one of the farm dogs who has something in his mouth that Hansol needs to chase him for the next few minutes to get out— turns out, it was a lump of mud; at least, Chan hopes it was mud.
“Hey, you’re new,” the voice behind Chan makes him turn, and instantly, his expression slides into something awed, because standing a little on the other side of the fence is the most beautiful being he’s ever laid eyes on. In response, Chan lets out something that sounds vaguely like something died painfully in his throat.
“Hey, doc!” Hansol calls out, and Chan watches entranced as this ethereal entity before him waves back with a smile that makes Chan suddenly love the farm.
“I think your new farm boy isn’t awake yet,” you muse as you approach to lean on the fence a little to Chan’s left, and he turns towards you like a flower to the sun. Or a suddenly-in-love man towards the woman of his dreams.
“No farm boy, he hates the farm, but he’s my best friend so he doesn’t have a choice,” Hansol informs with a grin.
“I love farm. Love sheep. Lady sheep. Ewes,” Chan babbles, wide eyes glued to you. You give him a look, a little concerned, but mostly amused, then slide your eyes to Hansol, and give the farmer a questioning look.
“Yeah, we don’t know what’s wrong with him either.”
“Sheep,” Chan whispers, and you give him a look, giggle— and he maybe lets out a little almost pained whimper in response—, before you effortlessly clamber over the fence to join Hansol in approaching the sheep.
Chan, of course, waddles around in a circle as you pass him so that he can keep his attention on you. He has no idea what you’re doing as you kneel beside the first pregnant lady sheep— ewe— with your bag of equipment to do…stuff, but he thinks it’s probably the most important and skilful thing ever, and nobody can ever do it better than you.
Suddenly, Chan doesn’t feel the cold, not when your smile and soft tone as you speak to the sheep warms him up from his very soul. Chan’s pretty convinced he could be standing there butt naked and feel warm under your smile. Then, he thinks that you’d probably not be smiling if a stranger was standing in front of you naked in a field of sheep in the middle of winter. He also thinks he wouldn’t be smiling as he imagines the sheep trying to nibble on something else instead of the coat protecting him from the cold, and he shudders at the thought, winces, and subconsciously puts his hands over his crotch.
“Dude, you better not be getting hard because a pretty lady smiled at you,” Hansol’s voice suddenly warns in a hiss in Chan’s ear, making him jump and look at his best friend in shock, having not noticed him approach.
“Do sheep bite genitals?” Chan whispers, horrified at the thought. Hansol gives him an incredulous look, before walking confidently back over to you in a way that Chan wishes he could, but he knows the damn coat makes him waddle like a particularly plump penguin. He doesn’t want you to think of him as a particularly plump penguin, he doesn’t want you to think of him as a penguin at all, plump or buff. He wants you to think of him as a handsome, suave young man who you would happily take home to introduce to your parents as your handsome, suave husband. Okay, boyfriend first, husband later.
Far too soon— at least in Chan’s mind—, you get up, shoulder your bag, and walk side by side with Hansol towards the gate a little further down the fence. Before he knows it, you’re getting into your Jeep— at least, Chan assumes it’s a Jeep, he doesn’t know anything about cars, nor is he paying enough attention to anything but you to notice the brand name—, sharing another laugh and quick verbal exchange with Hansol, giving Chan a polite wave, and then driving off. Chan lifts his arm so fast that he smacks himself in the face, but you’re already gone because he was too stunned by your sudden attention on him to even register it until it was over. He’s kind of glad of that because it means you didn’t see his embarrassing action.
Unfortunately, Hansol saw, and he’s leaning over with his hands on his knees as he wheezes with laughter. “Dude!” he cackles. “What the fuck is wrong with you today?” he asks, barely able to straighten up to look at his best friend as he continue to laugh so hard Chan thinks he might start choking any second.
“Nothing. I’m normal. Totally normal about everything and everyone I’ve seen today,” Chan replies before abruptly crossing the grass between them to grab Hansol’s face and lock his wide, unsettling gaze on the suddenly no longer laughing man. “How do I become a vet assistant? Specifically hers?”
Hansol pulls a face, then laughs again and nudges Chan away. “You’re hopeless, man.”
“I’d be a good vet’s assistant to her! I’d do anything she asks!”
“Pretty sure that’s called being a simp.”
“Well…if it works.”
“I can’t believe you’re obsessed with someone you didn’t say a coherent sentence to,” Hansol deadpans as he heads out of the field, and Chan scrambles to follow— making sure to shut the gate securely behind them and the dogs, he’s not entirely useless with farm stuff, you know.
“Shit, you’re right,” Chan mutters. Hansol looks at him as if he expects Chan to chill out and be normal about you, at least he does until the shorter man opens his mouth again. “Do you think if I hide for a couple months and you pretend I don’t exist and she imagined me today, that she’ll forget about me and I can come back and start fresh?”
“Dude, no!” He even shoves his friend into a bush for added effect; it works, Chan gets the point.
“Okay, no gaslighting, you’re right,” Chan concedes as he pulls himself out of the bush as if nothing happened. “I could never keep away from my future wife from that long anyway, and I definitely don’t want her to forget about me.”
“You don’t even know her name.”
That gives Chan pause, quite literally. He stops on the grass and Hansol continues on obliviously towards the house. Or more likely, Hansol knows that his best friend is no longer actively following him and is enjoying the moment of calm while he has it.
It’s a few minutes before Chan has caught up with Hansol where he’s waiting on the back porch, dogs all shuffling around his feet and the door as they wait to be let back inside. But Hansol knows his mother hates the winter air and feels it so much easier than most people, so he doesn’t want the door to open more than necessary so that there’s less cold being let in to attack his mother.
“What’s her name?” Chan asks as soon as he’s clambered up the few wooden steps. Hansol just rolls his eyes, and now finally opens the door to let the dogs dart in first, then follows with Chan at the back. Automatically, once the door is shut, Chan nudges the draft excluder back into place along the bottom of it, also aware of Hansol’s mother’s weakness for the chill, and not wanting to make his pseudo-mother face it without reason.
The pair are removing their shoes when the woman herself shuffles into the entrance hall. “How’re the ewes?” she checks. Hansol just gives a thumbs up, but that’s all she needs anyway. “Oh, Channie, what happened to you?” She frowns as she frets over the leaves and tiny twigs in his hair and dotted over the long coat.
“Sol pushed me into a bush,” Chan answers, then grins smugly when Hansol’s mother turns to scold her son, who glares harmlessly at his best friend before toddling off to the kitchen, drawn in by the scent of fresh, spicy food sure to warm him up. “Hey, you know the new vet?” Chan checks as the woman helps him out of the coat, picking off the bush debris as she goes.
“Mm, she’s lovely, isn’t she?”
“The loveliest,” Chan enthuses, head bobbing with his thorough agreement, and the woman smiles at him in an amused, knowing way that Chan doesn’t even notice. “I didn’t catch her name.”
“Oh, no?” She grins, hanging up the coat before turning and following her son’s path into the kitchen. Chan follows her little a lost little duckling. “You didn’t catch the good doctor’s name, love?”
“No,” Chan complains, dropping into his usual space at the breakfast table with a pout. “Will you tell it to me? Sol’s being a butthead.”
“You’re 25 years old and you just said butthead,” Hansol’s father comments from his own place. “Call him an asshole, Chan, go on.” Which earns the man a light slap to the back of his head from his wife, but he’s grinning, and Hansol is grinning, and Chan can’t help but join in.
“Don’t encourage bad habits, mister!” the woman exclaims.
“Ah, but you used to love my bad habits, my beautiful wife,” he coos, hooking one arm around her waist as she passes, to pull her in while giving her a sleazy look.
“Seriously, dad?” Hansol complains. “I’m trying to eat, don’t bring up your youth together, it’s gross.”
“Excuse you! We were hot shit in our youth, even hotter together!”
“Disgusting,” Hansol comments, not even pretending that he’s not grinning amusedly, before he puts a spoonful of warming, spicy soup into his mouth, makes a pleased sound, then tuckers in, closing out the rest of the world around him.
Having known Hansol for his entire life, the three know he will be a useless conversationalist until he’s finished his bowlful— and probably a second, maybe even third— and naturally turn away from him to continue talking without him.
“I’ve seen photos of you both when you were young,” Chan comments, nodding along. “I think you were both hot shit for sure.”
“Thank you, Chan,” Hansol’s father replies, and reaches over to approvingly pat Chan’s arm. “Knew we kept you around for a reason.”
“You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.” Chan grins, then abruptly turns serious. “But seeing as you both love me so much and consider me your baby boy—”
“We do?”
“Yes, dad,” Chan confirms, and the couple just smile, amused and fond of their pseudo-son and his weird, shameless personality.
“Okay, son, what of it?”
“You’ll tell me the name of the new vet, right?”
The couple share a look before Hansol’s dad nods and tells Chan your full name. Immediately, Chan lets out a dreamy sigh and props his head on his palm, elbow already braced on the table. He thinks it’s the most perfect name to have ever existed, and he can’t wait to spend the rest of his life saying it.
It’s a week before Chan sees you again, purely because every time he’s tried to oh so casually enter the vets and cross paths with you, he quickly realises that you’re out at another farm being competent and beautiful where he can’t admire you; a great shame, really.
Still, he’s persistent and has far too much time on his hands outside of his own working hours, so he keeps trying until he peers in through the glass wall at the front of the building, and spots you standing on the other side of the reception desk, looking at a file.
Without hesitation, Chan quickly scuttles to the door and enters the building, doing his best to be cool and confident. And it works, he genuinely looks very suave and put together, at least until you lift your head upon hearing someone approach, and he almost trips on his own foot the moment your eyes meet his.
He’s too busy flailing his arms out to catch himself on the desk and straighten up to notice the way you smile in amusement and something that looks an awful lot like you think he’s cute in his foolishness.
“Good evening, how can I help you?” you greet, leaning onto the high desk on your elbows only a few feet from Chan.
He squeaks when he realises how close you are, and jumps back, hands rapidly straightening out his coat— his own this time, and actually suited to his body, not drowning him. “Hi–hi.”
“Hi.” You grin.
“I uhm, I’m Chan!”
“Mm, I know; we met at the Choi farm last week. Hansol introduced us, but you were mumbling about lady sheep.”
“Ewes! Lady sheep are called ewes! I know animal stuff!” he insists, sounding like a child trying to convince an adult that they have knowledge they don’t really have.
“They are, well done, Chan,” you approve, and Chan positively beams, straightening up proudly. “Did you come in to introduce yourself?”
“No, no, I would like to volunteer.”
“Here?” you check, leaning up to stand straight, his eyes following you as if he can’t bear to miss a single moment. It’s all very obvious, and honestly, you think it’s adorable.
“Yes, here. With you.”
“With me? I specialise in farm animals, so I’m not here a lot,” you inform.
“I love farms.”
“Right.” You snigger and move over to the filing cabinet to grab a form, then return to hand it to him. “Here, fill this out.”
Chan nods and moves forward to take a pen from the pot a little to his left, and diligently fill out the volunteer registration form, while you return to looking at your files. Or, at least, you try to look at your files, but you’re honestly very intrigued by the man; and yes, he’s very attractive and you’re not blind to that, or his clear interest in you.
Admittedly, you wouldn’t be against going on a date with Chan to get to know him, there’s something so endearing about him— and once again, he’s very visibly pleasing, so that’s always a happy bonus. However, he flusters so easily that you think it’d be so entertaining to watch him flounder around you for a while until he gains the courage to ask you on a date himself.
Plus, you could do with a helper, and you know he’s only pretending to care about animals to be near you, so you think it’s only fair you take advantage of that and put him to good use while you can.
“There, all done,” he announces a few minutes later, lifting his head and shyly offering you the completed form, which you immediately look over just to make sure that he’s suitable for the role, at least on paper. He doesn’t seem to have any medical issues that could cause a problem, and he’s stated he has a lot of hours to put towards volunteering, so he definitely seems to be a good fit.
“What are you willing to do exactly? There are a lot of misconceptions that people come in with when they want to volunteer; they think they’ll essentially get to just play with cute puppies and kittens that come in for treatment, and they fail to consider all the shit they’ll have to handle. Often, literal shit. Especially if you’re with me and the farm animals; I don’t think I need to tell you that you will step in shit on a farm, even if you try to avoid it.”
“I know. I grew up with Hansol; his parents are my second parents, so I was sort of raised on the farm too,” he assures, nodding. Which is the truth, technically. Chan did spend a lot of time at the Choi farm growing up, and still does, but mostly in the house or orchard around back, not with the animals so much. And he certainly doesn’t know how to look after them in any way, but he doesn’t think you’d be reckless enough to leave him to look after animals, so he’s not worried about that.
“Have you tended to the animals there?”
“No,” he admits a little sheepishly. “But I’m willing to learn and do whatever you want me to.”
“Whatever I want you too, huh?” you repeat, lips turning up a little.
Chan blinks at you, lips parted slightly due to the sudden, seductive expression that makes him feel a little like he’s been dipped in a pool of warm, melted wax. Fuck, he hopes you’re into wax play because he suddenly is really into it, even if he’s never participated or been interested before. He thinks he’d probably try everything at least once if you asked.
It’s only a second that the smirk lives on your lips before it melts away as if it was never there, and Chan briefly wonders if he imagined it and the insinuation, before he gathers his brain back up and nods.
“Good to know. When can you start?”
“Now. Right now. I have nothing to do.”
“Nobody waiting for you at home?” you wonder, moving to grab your coat from where you earlier put it on the back of a chair, knowing you’d need it again soon.
“I’m single!” he blurts. “Very, very single.” You just giggle amusedly and tuck the files and his form into the cabinet before locking it up, grabbing your bag, and circling the desk to hold it out to him. Chan takes it without question, big, round eyes locked on you from only a few feet away.
“Come on, I’ve got a patient to visit,” you inform and head out of the building.
Chan lets out an excited gasp as he realises that you’ve agreed to spend time with him— he pointedly doesn’t focus on the fact that it’s for work, not personal reasons— and scrambles after you with a grin, determined to be the best assistant ever so that you’ll fall hopelessly in love with him and let him remain by your side until the world stops spinning.
As it turns out, Chan is a very competent helper, as long as you don’t watch him for too long because then he gets flustered and forgets how to function like a normal human being. Other than his mishaps, he’s actually pretty proud of himself for doing such a good job. Sometimes, he’s even so focused on the work that he forgets that he stepped into the vets that day with the sole purpose of being near you.
Though, even with his original plan often being forgotten, it still works in his favour, and the two of you spend so much time together that friendship soon blooms.
When Chan’s not flustering or just staring at you dumbly as if he can’t believe you’re real, he’s actually very naturally charming and friendly, and very skilled at making you laugh. The first time he made you properly laugh, he mentally declared your laughter to be one of the great wonders of the world, and that he’ll do what he can to earn it at every chance. Which is something he achieves almost effortlessly. He thinks that when the two of you aren’t focused on work, you’re both laughing away together and chatting happily as if you’ve known one another for years, not just a month.
It gets to the point that, although he is still utterly enamoured with you and would love to hold your hand and kiss your pretty face, he is more than happy to just spend time with you, making you laugh, and seeing you smile as you tend to patients with nothing but love and care in your touch and eyes.
Even when the two of you start to hang out outside of working hours, it’s nothing but platonic, nothing he wouldn’t do with Hansol because Chan truly doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, or risk losing your friendship. He’d rather be at your side like this than not at all, and he has no intention of even trying to change anything, despite what his friends say.
“So, how’s the woman of your dreams doing?” Seungkwan asks, fiddling with Hansol’s hair where it pokes out from his beanie, and Hansol just lets him, long ago used to Seungkwan’s fussing.
“Dreamy,” Chan replies, sighing happily as he slumps forward over the table at their usual bar, leaning his chin on one palm as his other hand mindlessly traces patterns into the condensation on his glass of coke. Usually, he’d be drinking some kind of alcoholic beverage, but he knows that you’ve gone out with some friends tonight, and he told you that you can call him if you need a ride, no matter how late, so he’s refraining from drinking tonight all for you.
“Right,” Seungkwan replies with a snigger, then turns, done fussing with Hansol, yet doesn’t move away and Chan isn’t so caught up in his own pining to not notice that the pair are even closer than normal. Which says something, because Chan thinks the two are almost attached at the hip when the three of them hang out.
“What’s going on?” Chan asks as he straightens up, giving the pair a suspicious look. Hansol, for his part, doesn’t really react, just continues looking over at Chan as he sips at his beer.
Seungkwan, however, has never had a good poker face, and gives Chan a too innocent smile as his ears redden. “I don’t know what you mean, Channie.”
“You two–” Chan starts to point out their position— and the fact he’s pretty damn sure Hansol’s hand is on Seungkwan’s thigh under the table— but he hears a familiar, heart fluttering, angelic sound, and he sits upright, head swivelling to search the bar for the one person he would happily ditch his best friends for.
“Oh, you’ve turned into a meerkat,” Seungkwan muses, relaxing in his place and giving Hansol a relieved look while Chan is distracted. Hansol just smiles at him, then they both focus on their best friend, who is practically climbing up onto his chair on his knees to get a higher vantage point. “Okay, too far,” Seungkwan declares when Chan’s leg lifts as if he’s going to plant a knee on the table to climb up. Or piss like a dog with his leg cocked, though Seungkwan is pretty sure that Chan needs to be much drunker to try that…again. That was a dark day for Chan’s new trainers.
“Noo, let me find her,” Chan whines, batting at Seungkwan’s hands, head still trying to peer around the fairly busy room.
“How about you go get us a fresh round, and you can scope the place like that?” Hansol suggests after draining the last dregs of his beer, before pushing the empty glass across the table.
“Good idea!” Chan quickly snatches the empty glass and gets up, whining at Seungkwan wordlessly as the man tries to down the last of his own beer without spilling it. “Finally!” Chan exclaims exasperatedly as he takes the freshly empty glass and darts off, while Seungkwan’s chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath, and Hansol rubs his back, soothing and amused at the same time.
As Chan crosses the room to get to the bar on the opposite side as the tables, skirting around the dance floor as he goes, he makes sure to keep his eyes open for you— and only walks into three people, which he thinks is a very low number for how busy it is mixed with not paying attention. Yet, no matter how hard he looks, he can’t find you, or hear your familiar laugh again, so he slumps against the bar and waits to be served.
He’s only there a minute and the bartender is working on refilling the glasses when someone approaches and leans on their elbows on the bar to his right. Naturally, Chan looks over and immediately lights up upon spotting you already grinning at him.
“I knew I heard your laugh!” he declares, and although it would probably be creepy from anyone else, you just find it cute from Chan and let out one of those laughs he loves so much. “Yeah, like that.” He sighs dreamily and leans one elbow on the bar so that he can fully face you.
“What happened to keeping yourself available for me tonight?” you muse.
“I’m always available for you,” he says, looking so serious and almost offended that you’d suggest otherwise. The audacity to think that he wouldn’t do literally anything to spend more time with you. It’s crazy talk.
“Oh yeah?” you question, and he nods, then looks to his left at the bar top when you motion to it. He spots the beers and understands.
“Those aren’t mine. They’re for my friends. You remember Hansol, right?”
“Yeah,” you laugh. “We were at his farm yesterday.”
“Well, yeah, him and our other best friend, Seungkwan. I think they’re dating or something now,” he announces, leaning in closer conspiratorially. You mirror his action with a grin, more than happy to go along with it. “They’ve always sat close, but tonight, they’re even closer, and I’m pretty sure Sol’s touching up Kwan under the table.”
“That doesn’t sound very public friendly,” you muse.
“Oh! Not in that way; I just meant has his hand on Kwan’s thigh. But now you’ve said that… I really hope it’s not in that way.” Chan isn’t sure what exactly his expression does, but it makes you laugh, so he doesn’t care, and just grins at you. “So, where are your friends?” he wonders, peering around curiously yet finds nobody looking in your direction as if they’re waiting for you to return.
“They were touching each other up under the table, so I ditched them,” you joke, and Chan laughs.
“Well, you can join us, if you want?”
“Depends.”
“On?”
“Will there be under the table touching?” You smirk, and Chan’s mind blanks as he stares at you dumbly, making you giggle. “Sure, I’d love to join you, if your friends won’t mind, that is.”
“They won’t. Kwan wants to meet you, and Sol already likes you.”
“Ah, that’s cool, I like him.”
Chan suddenly pouts at you, but you don’t notice, you’re too busy leaning forward onto the bar to flag down the bartender and order yourself a drink. Even when he hands his card to the bartender— without looking— Chan is still pouting at you. You look at him as you spot his bank card appear, and raise a questioning eyebrow at him, both for the paying for your drink, and the expression.
“What?” you ask, deciding to just accept the drink and face the pouting instead. You can always buy him a drink later anyway.
“You like me better, right?” he questions without losing his pout. You huff a soft laugh. “No?”
“Yes, idiot,” you assure, and Chan breams, despite you just calling him an idiot. “And if you must know, I think you’re very likely my favourite person in his town,” you declare, tone a little quieter, lower, as if it’s just the two of you, before you pick up your drink and turn away. Though Chan doesn’t follow, so you stop after a few steps and look back at his stunned, gawping figure. “Well, come on then, introduce me to the man Hansol’s touching up under the table.”
“Right!” Chan darts forward, intending to take you to the table as requested, yet you put a gentle hand on his chest to stop him, giggling amusedly. “Huh?”
“Didn’t you forget something?” you remind him and motion behind him at the bar, so Chan looks over and notices the two glasses of beer sitting there with his bank card left on the surface beside them.
“Oh, shit.” He rushes over to pocket his card, then grabs the drinks and turns to face you with an embarrassed little grin. “This way.”
At the table, Seungkwan lights up when Chan introduces you and says you’re joining them, and you grin back before joining them and easily get into conversation with Seungkwan as if you already know each other. As if you’ve always been around. As if you’re supposed to be here with them, right by Chan’s side.
Since the day in the bar where you spent hours with Chan, Hansol, and Seungkwan, Seungkwan has bugged Chan to ask you out at every available opportunity.
Because he’s a meddling little shit, Seungkwan has arranged many hang outs for the four of you. Which, to Chan, are increasingly feeling like double dates, despite the fact that Hansol and Seungkwan are still evasive about whatever is going on between them, and you never bat an eyelid about the growing romantic vibes to the hang outs.
You don’t even question it or back off when you arrive to Seungkwan’s apartment set up with slow, romantic music and candles. Or when Seungkwan insists you and Chan slow dance together after dinner. Okay, maybe that’s Chan’s fault. After he offhandedly mentions how he hasn’t danced with someone in a while, you say the same, and then Seungkwan goads the two of you on until you relent, pull Chan to his feet, and put his hand on your waist— Chan’s pretty sure he astrally projects for a second when that happens— in the middle of Seungkwan’s kitchen while the man himself watches on with a shit-eating grin.
Still, Chan doesn’t give in and is happy to continue as you are. Admittedly, he could be even happier if he got the chance to romance you, but he’s more than content being such good friends with you.
He really doesn’t expect you to feel otherwise, though.
It comes to a head completely out of the blue one morning, when Chan is using his day off to help you organise your so-rarely-used office at the vets. The fact it’s so rarely used is why it’s such a mess. Well, mess in the way there’s no obvious system and things are just placed everywhere, yet you always manage to find what you need quickly enough that you hadn’t wanted to block off any of your appointment times to tackle the task earlier. But it’s spring, and the local ewes have all started to pop out lambs left, right, and centre, so you haven’t been accepting appointments other than emergencies, just in case you get the call about a sheep in labour.
Chan isn’t aware of it, he’s too busy frowning in concentration down at the pile of books on the floor in front of him where he’s sitting as he tries to decide which ones you should display on your shelves and which should go in the closed cupboard, but you’ve been staring at him contemplatively for a good few minutes already.
When you speak, Chan jolts in surprise, first at the sudden noise, but then at the words that come out of your mouth. “Okay, are you going to ask me on a date, or am I going to have to do it?” You wait for a response for only a few seconds before taking his dumb expression and wide eyes as answer. “Alright, tonight at 6:30, pick me up and we’ll go to that Italian place Seungkwan keeps telling us to try. Okay?” It takes a few moments, but Chan manages to shut his mouth and nod in confirmation, slowly at first still in disbelief, but then the enthusiasm catches up and his head bobbles cutely, making you smile. “Good. Dress pretty for me, yeah?”
“Y–yeah,” he almost wheezes out, voice so pinched and quiet. But you just giggle and return to your work, so Chan takes a few moments to admire your smile and wait for his thundering heart to calm before he turns back to those books and then sighs forlornly. He wishes it was 6:30 already. Only eight hours left to go. Fuck.
Chan would like to say that he’s been cool and calm for the past hours. He’d like to say that he easily picked his outfit for the date with minimal deliberation, that he didn’t have three almost breakdowns, and that Seungkwan didn’t almost shake Chan’s brain out of his ears when he did nothing but stand in his shower for half an hour without even turning the water on— yes, Seungkwan did barge in on him, and no, Seungkwan doesn’t understand what privacy is.
Truthfully, Chan thinks he’s never been so nervous for anything in his life. He doesn’t think he’s ever looked at himself in the mirror and picked out every little thing someone could find as a fault, as a reason to leave him in the middle of a restaurant with only breadsticks and ice water to soothe his broken heart.
Realistically, Chan knows you’d never be so cruel, but he’s not Realistic Chan anymore, he’s Scared-That-The-Woman-Of-His-Dreams-Will-Realise-He’s-Not-Good-Enough-For-Her Chan. And Chan hates being Scared-That-The-Woman-Of-His-Dreams-Will-Realise-He’s-Not-Good-Enough-For-Her Chan, it’s too much of a mouthful.
So, Chan does what Chan does best, and deludes himself into thinking he’s a normal, functioning young man entirely capable of going on this date and not acting like a love-sick freak.
Well, he deludes himself until the moment you step out of your house and steal his breath away. You’re wearing a pretty dress that stops just above your knees— as if that’s not reason enough for Chan to lose his mind like a Victorian man seeing a woman’s ankles for the first time—, with a neckline that hints at cleavage without dipping low enough that Chan will be completely distracted all night having a staring contest with your boobs. You’ve even done your hair and put on some makeup that makes you look like a literal goddess. Chan isn’t going to be normal about this at all.
“Oh my god, you’re an angel,” he blurts as he scrambles forward to meet you a few metres from his car. His freshly washed and waxed car that he had previously been leaning against like the stud of a male lead in a cheesy rom com while feeling very much like one, and like he might have the upper hand and make you swoon for once. He was evidently, very fucking wrong about that.
“Oh,” you respond, surprised by how intense and genuine his reaction is. You had expected him to react pretty strongly, but this is so honest that it makes your heart flutter— more than he already makes it anyway, you just haven’t let him know that. You look down at your feet as you giggle shyly, and Chan positively melts. “Thank you. You look very handsome,” you compliment as you look at the man donned in a black shirt with maybe one button undone too low on his chest to not be on purpose— though you really aren’t opposed to the teasing glimpse of strong chest—, neat, dark trousers, and a nice jacket perfect for the weather, which he only brings out for special occasions. A date with you is the most special occasion as far as Chan is concerned. Honestly, you’d have to agree.
“Oh, really?” Chan asks, genuinely surprised, having not expected the compliment, and quickly looks at himself. “Seungkwan picked it; I…was too nervous to be useful.”
“Chan,” you start to say, and move forward to gently tilt his head back up so that he’ll see the truth in your eyes. “I always think you’re handsome.”
“Oh,” he exhales, eyes big and round, and cheeks warming softly.
“Come on, let’s go, I’m starving,” you encourage as you let go of him and step around his almost frozen figure to approach his car.
Before you can even reach out for the passenger door, Chan is suddenly there, scrambling to open it for you, then offer his hand to help you into your seat like a true gentleman. The best part is that you know he isn’t putting it on to impress you, Chan is just like that. It makes your heart flutter, and you giggle softly as you swing your legs into the footwell once seated to allow him to shut the door.
Chan all but falls into his seat moments later in his rush to join you. He gives you an adorably embarrassed smile as you laugh, endeared by his clumsy actions, and then he settles himself and pulls his door shut. “Okay, let’s go!” he cheers once he’s plugged his seatbelt in— and double checked yours is also securely in place—, then starts the drive to the restaurant.
Despite how nervous he was— and remains—, Chan has to admit that the date goes well. Like, really well.
Although it could be awkward, especially with his stammering, and gawping, and blurting out compliments at the most random times, it isn’t. It takes him a little while, but he realises that your smile doesn’t change even when he does those embarrassing things, not in a bad way at least. Every time he does something stupid or obviously smitten, your smile softens and your gaze on him turns so gentle that Chan can’t mistake it for anything but the truth; you’re fond of him, and find him endearing, not a giant fool. Okay, maybe you do also think that, but Chan suddenly realises that it’s pretty damn likely that you like that about him.
After a truly delicious dinner that you insist on paying for as the one who asked Chan on the date— which has Chan trying to not to giggle dopily into his hands like a swooning maiden at the reminder, and your no-nonsense, doting words and actions—, the two of you head outside to his car, only to divert before even reaching it as you motion to the nearby park. Chan’s more than happy to toddle after you, and all but squeaks when you gently grab his hand at the road to tug him across quickly so that you don’t have to wait until after the incoming stream of cars to cross.
Unfortunately, you let go of him once you’re both safely across the road with both feet on the path. Chan thinks he does a very convincing job of pretending to not pout about no longer having your hand in his. He doesn’t. It’s incredibly obvious, and you’re further endeared, though decide to wait and let him reach out to reconnect your hands.
But as it so happens, Chan is a coward and doesn’t make any sort of move to hold your hand, leaving it up to you. After almost twenty minutes of waiting as the two of you leisurely stroll through the mostly empty park, talking and giggling away like you’ve been doing all evening, you realise that you’ll be waiting for the rest of your life for Chan to make a move, so you reach out and take his hand into yours.
“Oh,” Chan says, dumbly looking down at your hands, making you grin to yourself, which only grows when you adjust your hold to slip your fingers between his own to secure the affection and Chan inhales so suddenly that he almost chokes on air. “Hands,” he wheezes out.
“Mm, do you mind?”
“No! Always hands!” he insists, looking up at you with wide, imploring eyes, and emphatically nods.
“Okay, always hands,” you agree with a giggle and tug him that bit closer so that you can all but hug his arm to you, right hand still connected with his, and your left hand holding his upper arm. Of course, you take a chance to cop a feel of his strong bicep, and, of course, Chan doesn’t miss the chance to flex the muscle, making you giggle. He smiles, pleased of himself— and proud of his body for gaining your interest—, and finally curls his fingers to hold your hand in return as the two of you let the conversation naturally ebb out for a calm, content quiet to replace it.
Although it’s only spring and the moon is high in the sky, it’s not as cold as it could be outside, so when you spot a bench just a little off the path, you lead Chan over to it so that you can sit by his side and lean into his side, resting your head on his shoulder, and happy to spend the rest of the night by his side like this if he’ll let you. You’re pretty confident he has no arguments about it. Especially as he holds your hand that bit tighter as he rests it on his thigh, thumb rubbing over your skin absently, and tilts his head against yours with a content sigh.
“Thank you,” Chan’s gentle tone breaks the quiet a little while after sitting down, making you hum questioningly in response. “I know I act like an idiot around you, but it’s just because I like you so much that I just…get stupid. Well, stupider than normal, if you ask everyone else.”
“It’s cute.”
“I’m glad you think so. And that you asked me out. I didn’t think you were interested in me, would ever be interested in me; you’re just so…” he lets out a dreamy sigh that makes you turn your face to hide your dopey grin in his shoulder.
When you turn your head back around after a few seconds to gather yourself and stop smiling so stupidly cheesy, Chan is quiet again, and happily softly smiling ahead at nothing in particular, just letting his feelings show unabashedly on his features. You can’t help but straighten up so that you can lean in and kiss his cheek.
“Thank you for liking me so much,” you say, gently grateful. “I’m lucky to have your interest, and I don’t plan to let you move on to anyone else.”
“I won’t,” he promises, so seriously as he nods to back up his words, making you smile a little wider, so endeared. “You’re everything I never knew I wanted, and I know I’ll never find anyone better than you.”
“Good.” Your grin is cheeky, and Chan can’t help but chuckle softly, fond.
For a few long moments, the two of you do nothing but hold adoring eye contact, little smiles on your face, and neither shying away from this, from what this could turn into if you give it the chance. Chan wants to, with everything in him; he’s had a taste of what it’s like to be blessed with your entire romantic attention, and he wants to keep that privilege for the rest of his life. He’d also really like to get a taste of you, and his eyes drop down to your lips as that thought settles in his mind.
A soft, surprised inhale slips from your lips when you notice that Chan is leaning in. The man who didn’t have the balls to even hold your hand despite very obviously wanting to, is tilting towards you, aiming to kiss you. You want him to; fuck do you want him to. You’re tempted to lean in just so it’ll happen quicker, but you also want Chan to make a real move entirely on his own so that it’s not always you doing it, and he realises that he can do it without you guiding him.
And then, just as he’s mere inches away, your phone starts to ring, and you both freeze. If it was your personal phone, you wouldn’t even hear it right now, you put it on do not disturb before leaving your house for the date. But you can hear it and that can only mean one thing; it’s your work phone, and it’s important.
“Shit,” you whisper before turning to your bag to find out your work phone while Chan leans back into his own space, a little upset about being interrupted, but mostly understanding and also a little worried it’s a serious animal emergency. “It’s Hansol,” you inform after looking at the caller ID, then swipe to answer while lifting the device to your ear. “Hey, what’s going on?” you ask, already getting up, knowing that regardless of the reason Hansol is calling, you need to get to his family farm sooner rather than later; he’s far too experienced and level-headed to call you for anything minor.
“Sheila’s gone into labour,” he announces.
“Alright, I’ll be there soon, you know what to do until then.”
“Got it, see you soon, doc.”
You place your phone back away and turn, expecting Chan to still be sitting on the bench, but he’s already standing close by with his car keys in his hand.
“Let’s go,” he says, taking your hand into his free one to quickly lead you back through the park, both of you rushing to get to his car sooner.
Without you saying a word, Chan drives straight to the vets, and though you don’t tell him to, he follows you inside to help you grab everything you need— the man now well versed in what exactly you need to help bring a lamb or two into the world—, then leads you back to his car.
“You missed the turning,” you comment a few minutes later, pointing dumbly to the road that leads towards your house.
“No I didn’t.” He briefly gives you a look as if you’re stupid, before focusing on the road out of town. “Sol’s place is this way.”
“Oh…I thought you were taking me home and then going home yourself,” you admit.
“I’m your assistant, aren’t I?” He grins cheekily. You let out a soft little laugh, so relieved and beyond glad to have this lovely man by your side and reach out to hold his hand into your own. He smiles a little brighter without looking away from the road.
After hours of waiting, when the sun has chased the moon away and started to rise up and smile down on the two new lives blessing the Choi farm, your job is done.
“I’ll never get over it,” Chan comments as the two of you head back towards his car, both of your outfits completely ruined from the birthing fluids, dust, and hay of the barn, and your hair in a messy, barely still together bun Chan had tied it into hours ago while you pulled on your long gloves.
“Hm?” you wonder, glancing at him quickly, then looking at his car as he unlocks it, allowing you to open the boot so that he can put your bags inside— which he insisted on carrying with the excuse that you carried the weight of bringing two new lambs into the world, so it’s his turn to carry; luckily, he’s cute enough to get away with such bullshit.
“You just helped that mama bring her babies into this world, and you let me assist you. No matter how many times I help you do this, I’ll never get over how incredible it is.”
“It’s a good feeling, huh?” you muse.
“Beyond good. I might just quit my job to do this full time,” he declares, making you laugh. “What? I’m serious!”
“Channie, lambing season is spring, you’d be out of a job most of the year if you quit just for this,” you reason.
“I meant work with you in general, really. And there are other animals to help through labour, too! I wanna help bring a baby cow into the world.”
“Alright, next time I get that call, I’ll let you know.” Chan beams at you, looking so genuinely happy at the offer that you can’t help but be further endeared by the man.
“I should probably call off work today,” he muses after checking the time on his watch— that has been tucked safely in his jacket pocket out of the way for the past few hours to not risk ruining it, and the jacket hung up on a post in the barn far from the splash zone at your insistence; he had practically sprinted to do as you told him to when you said you really liked how it looked on him and hope to see him wear it again. “I’m due at work in like two hours.”
“Mm, yeah, call off,” you agree a little distractedly as you watch him meander around the car after shutting the boot, his eyes on his phone as he types a message to his boss one handed, and the other blindly reaching for the passenger side door long before he’s close enough to grasp the handle.
“You’ll at least take the morning off, right?” he checks as he slides his phone into his pocket and looks at you.
“Yeah, I won’t go in until the afternoon. Unless there’s an emergency, of course,” you answer, soothing him of his worries.
“And you’ll call me if you need me, right? For anything.”
“Anything?” you tease, and he nods so seriously that you can’t help but chuckle as the euphemism goes right over his adorable head. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Good.” He motions to the seat, then offers his hand to you like he’s been doing all night to help you in and out of the car— like he’s always wanted to but felt it would be overstepping as a friend to do so, but he’s your…date-man now; he has no idea what he is to you at this point, but whatever it is, he wears the label with pride.
You take his hand and start to move towards the seat, only to back up and turn to face him so suddenly that he jerks back in shock, only to lean back in, eyes round in curious wonder. “So, I know this isn’t the most attractive look or anything.” You motion to yourself vaguely; Chan’s gaze follows to take you in head to toe, and when his gaze returns to you, he’s got a little smile on his face that makes you blush softly. “But I don’t want to wait until an undetermined later point.” Unsurprisingly, Chan’s expression turns puzzled. “I would very much like it if you did the thing you were going to do before Hansol called.”
Somehow, Chan just look even more confused, features scrunching cutely, and head tilting to the side— maybe it’s the animal loving vet you in you that absolutely loves it when he gains this dumb, puppy-dog look. After rolling your eyes at his reaction, figuring you’ll have to spell it out and you’d rather just get to it, you lean in to press a kiss to Chan’s lips. It’s only a quick thing, nothing but a sweet barely-longer-than-a-peck kiss, before you pull back. Chan’s making some strange, strangled, shocked noise as he stares at you with wide eyes, making you snicker out a laugh.
To your genuine surprise, Chan suddenly snaps out of his daze and lifts both hands to cup your face, secure yet still gentle, so that he can connect his lips with yours in a kiss so perfect that you never want it to end. You all but melt against him, hands lifting to hold onto his wrists so that he’ll not let you go before you’re ready; he just kisses you more thoroughly. For someone that’s been so awkward and cowardly about making a move until now, the man can kiss. Holy fuck can the man kiss.
Only when both of your chests are heaving to try and suck in some oxygen do you naturally pull apart to dopily stare at one another under the rising sun with lamb birth dried on your nicest clothes. It’s probably pretty gross for a first kiss— ignoring your peck—, but you still think it’s perfect, and you’d never change it for the world.
“For the record,” Chan starts after a minute; once you’re both breathing almost normally again and his thumbs are consistently brushing soothing arcs over your cheekbones as his palms refuse to leave your skin. Not that you’ve tried to make him stop and would happily let him touch you so tenderly until the sun sets again. “You’re always attractive to me.”
You smile and tilt your chin up to press a short kiss to his lips. “You say that now but wait until you see me first thing in the morning, hungover, with only two hours sleep.”
Chan grins and cutely taps his nose against yours. “Just sounds to me like you’re already planning to share the bed with me,” he points out cheekily, making you giggle. “I already look forward to it.”
“Yeah,” you agree softly. “Me too.”
Don’t forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖
🎶Who: Min Yoongi (BTS) x female reader.
🎶What: Some humour. Some fluffy parts. Slow burn. Strangers to Friends to Lovers. Child Taehyung. Ex husband Mingyu. Best friend Mingyu. 18+
🎶Word count: 6.4k
🎶Warnings: Disabled characters— both mental and physical in various ways. Taehyung has a few emotional moments. Other children portrayed by idols. Namjoon is Jimin’s dad, and even I didn’t know that was going to happen until it did 🤡. Yoongi isn’t in this chapter, so he’s not mentioned in the “what” section, but it’s still a Yoongi story! The 18+ warning is because the series overall is 18+, so I’m applying it to every chapter regardless of content.
🎶Summary:
Even before you meet him, Min Yoongi owns a piece of your heart.
Minors do NOT interact. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in their bio. I also block blank blogs.
My general masterlist
🎶Mr. Min Masterlist. Previous Chapter. Next Chapter.
A/N - Honestly, this story seems to be turning into just reader loving tiny Taehyung, and I don’t blame her, he’s so precious 🥺 Forget Yoongi and the romance aspect, let’s just focus on Tae 😌 (That is a joke, I’m not changing the plot, don’t worry)
On the very first day of October, Taehyung comes home even more excited than usual, and you soon understand why. Well, once you’ve gotten him to calm down enough that you can make sense of his rushed words and also stop his arm from waving something around in your face in an excited attempt to show it to you.
“I go, mama?” he asks when you’ve accepted what he’s been waving around and realise it’s two small envelopes, one plain white with Taehyung’s name written on the front in neat— though still child-like— handwriting, and the other you think was once white, but it’s been entirely scribbled over by a whole selection of coloured pencil as far as you can see while it’s behind the other.
“Give me a minute to see what they are first,” you muse with a chuckle as you open the top envelope— the white one— and pull out the little card within. “Oh, a party invitation,” you realise, smiling at the thought of Taehyung being invited to his first birthday party at this school. Or, at least, the first birthday party he’s aware beforehand that he’s been invited to. Though spotting that the date on the invitation is only two days away, and noticing that it’s from Jeonghan, your smile lowers a little in worry that the little boy has purposely left it so late to give Taehyung his invite. “Baby, this is on Friday after school,” you point out, looking up at Taehyung.
“Hannie gave ‘em us all lunch today,” he says, unintentionally soothing your worry that Jeonghan had singled out your little boy again, but it seems as if that’s not the case at all, and you relax a little. “I can go?”
“Mm,” you hum thoughtfully as you look at the invitation again. “It’s for pizza and movies at Jeonghan’s house, you’d like to do that?”
“Yes!” Taehyung cheers enthusiastically, so you glance around in search of Mingyu and find him leaning in the living room doorway, clearly waiting knowing that Taehyung had something to show you, that the pair of— as Taehyung’s parents— would need to discuss. Not that you discuss it now, Mingyu just nods with a little smile on his face, silently giving his consent to your son attending the party.
“Okay, baby, you can go,” you confirm, making Taehyung let out an excited noise before bouncing happily around for a moment. You take the chance to grab your phone from the side table to send a text to the number listed on the invitation to confirm Taehyung’s presence and specify any requirements— as requested on the little card.
Once you’re done sending the text and saving the number as “Jeonghan’s mother”, you turn your attention to the rainbow scrawled envelope, noticing that this time, Taehyung’s name was obviously written by an adult, no five-year-old has handwriting that neat. Your son bounces back over when he notices that you’re pulling the folded paper out. This one is printed in a farmyard theme and is also covered in shiny animal stickers on the back, making you smile a little.
“Who’s Jimin?” you wonder once you’re read the invitation fully and realise that you don’t recall Taehyung mentioning anyone called Jimin before, and you’ve also never seen the name printed on the cubbies in the few times you’ve been in their classroom. Perhaps it’s a new student.
“He’s with the little kids but we are same age! He’s all smiley like Soo, but he is like a little kid like Cheolie’s little brother, he’s three,” he explains simply, and you hum in understanding. It makes sense that you’ve not heard of Jimin before, not if he has a much younger mental age than his same-aged peers, so he’s with the younger children who are at the same mental age as him.
You assume he and your son have only recently met, likely on the playground as you don’t think the students mix during any other point in the day. “And you’ve played with him at breaktime?”
“Yeah!” Taehyung nods. “He call me Tete, and we play aliens, and pirates, and run lots! Cheolie can’t run lots, so Hannie say we can’t play run games, so I play with Chim!” he explains, not seeming at all bothered that he can’t run around with his best friends, and instead happy to have another friend to play with. “Jimin says Chim, not Jimin. I think he can’t not say Jimin, but Chim is cute!”
“It is,” you agree, smiling at your son and his clear adoration for Jimin, for his lack of issue about the same-aged boy’s younger mentality and skills. You’re glad Taehyung doesn’t linger on what others struggle with, just accepts them and focuses on their strengths, and how they can be happy together. “Jimin’s party is at a farm, is that something you’d like to do?”
Taehyung’s smile lowers and he slumps as nerves appear on his adorable little face. “Just me?”
“No, baby, I’ll go with you,” you assure, glad that the invitation requests that a parent or adult guardian attends as well— free of charge— to watch over their own child while the children play together. You think it’s pretty safe to assume that Jimin himself needs a fair amount of attention and care, and the chances are that he’s invited other children from their school too, who all have their own needs. It would be an awful lot for Jimin’s guardians to watch over multiple young children with varying needs alongside trying to keep the party going smoothly, while somewhere that could easily be overstimulating with all the scents and sounds.
“And daddy?” Taehyung asks, looking over to where you assume Mingyu must still be, based on the fact Taehyung stares in that direction questioningly.
“When is it?” Mingyu wonders as he approaches to lean over the back of the sofa and peer at the paper in your hands, which you lift higher so that he can easier read the information. “Ah, no, sorry, baby, I’m in New York then,” he apologises, sounding genuinely upset to have to let down his son for the sake of work.
“Oh, can we farm some time? You, me, and mama?”
“Of course,” Mingyu easily agrees, and you hum, nodding your own agreement when Taehyung looks at you, making the boy light back up.
“For my birthday?”
“I think it’ll be too cold on your birthday for the farm to be open for visitors,” Mingyu responds, and you both watch as Taehyung deflates all over again with a disappointed little “oh.”
“I thought you want to go see the snowy mountains for your birthday?” you remind him of the idea he had in Japan once he saw photos of the snow-tipped mountains and immediately became enamoured.
Taehyung nods enthusiastically. “With Chim, and Cheol, and Hannie, and Soo, and Ji?” he requests.
“Jihoon?” you question, a little surprised that he wants his newest friend present for the trip when you can’t imagine they’ll see each other much between now and December when Taehyung’s birthday is. Honestly, with Jihoon not going out onto the playground during breaktime and Yoongi’s refusal to swap numbers with you so the boys can hang out, you think the only time the two will get to see each other will be thanks to Jin. Though as it’s been all these years already and you’ve only just met the father-son due through your mutual friend, you don’t imagine Jin will invite your two families to any gatherings at the same time unless it’s something big and important again.
“Yeah! I want fun see Ji times like huhwhywee.”
“Hawaii.”
“Yeah!”
“I don’t think seeing Jihoon outside of school is possible, baby,” you inform gently, knowing it will upset your son to hear.
“Why not?” He frowns sadly, making your heart break a little. If Yoongi wasn’t so good to Taehyung at school and a genuinely wonderful teacher and support system for the boy, you’d mentally curse him out right now for being the reason your precious boy looks so defeated.
“Because his daddy is your teacher, so it makes things difficult. He can’t really do things like that,” you answer, hoping that Taehyung will understand and not ask for further clarification; you really don’t know how you’d explain it to Taehyung when you honestly don’t understand Yoongi’s aversion yourself.
“Oh… Then not Ji and just Chim, and Cheol, and Hannie, and Soo?” he requests.
“As lovely as that would be, it’s not possible to take your friends to Japan for the Christmas break, baby. Their parent’s wouldn’t agree, and even if they did, daddy and I can’t look after you all on our own; you all needs lots of special care and deserve more attention than the two of us can give you in another country like that. We’d have to invite their parents and siblings, and that would cost a lot of money, baby.”
“We not have a lot of money?” he asks curiously. “You and daddy are be famous.”
“Ah, I’m not really, not now,” you correct, knowing that these days, although your name is still fairly known in your world, you don’t really do the jobs anymore to keep that recognition going. Though, you still have enough respect in the fashion circuit to earn more than a pretty penny when you do accept a job that strikes your fancy. “Daddy is the famous one,” you point out.
Mingyu can’t deny it, his photos are pretty much part of the furniture in the majority of magazines in the country, and many internationally too. It’s more surprising to go to a shopping centre and not see a blown-up photo of your ex-husband showing off some product or another; it’s another reason you’re so glad you’re still friends. It’d drive you insane to not be able to go buy a new pair of underwear without your ex-husband’s giant, handsome face leering at you from a display in the men’s section.
“But have little money?” Taehyung asks confused.
“We have enough money,” Mingyu answers. “But to spend all that would be like showing off how much we have, and your mama and I never want to do that. Most people don’t have as much money, and so we don’t want to rub it in their faces, okay? So don’t tell anyone that we have lots of money please, Tae.”
“It is secret?”
“They can probably guess we have money because of my job, and your mama insists on driving a big, fancy car–” he cuts off with a laugh when you hit his arm. “Ow! It’s true!”
“I drive a big, fancy car to fit your giant ass in it!” you point out.
“I fit in smaller cars,” he defends.
“And complain that your legs are squished. And this car will last me for years, long enough that Tae will be grown at least, and I’m betting he’s going to be tall like you, so he’ll need space for his long legs too!”
“I be very tall!” Taehyung decides, lifting up onto his tiptoes with one hand held as high as he can get it. “Like this!”
“Wow, you’re going to be super tall,” Mingyu enthuses.
“Like you, daddy!”
“And super handsome too, huh?!” Mingyu teases then darts around the sofa to pick up Taehyung and playfully nuzzle and bite the boy while Taehyung giggles and wiggles away, more than happy to be playfully eaten— a very common occurrence in your house, by both you and Mingyu, Taehyung is just too cute to resist.
While the pair play, you copy the number for Jimin’s dad from his invitation into your phone and send a text confirming Taehyung’s presence at the farm for the party. The two are still playing when you’re done, so you decide to get up and go to the kitchen to make a start on dinner even though it’s Mingyu’s turn to cook tonight; but you know he’s unlikely to remove his focus from your son for a while yet and you’re already getting hungry so would rather eat sooner than later.
It’s almost twenty minutes later that Mingyu darts into the kitchen and dramatically tells you off for taking his job from him. Before you can argue, he picks you up and carries you into the living room to deposit you on the sofa beside Taehyung, then strolls back to the kitchen to pick up where you left off.
As soon as you’re settled on the cushions, Taehyung wiggles into your side to curl up with you to watch his current favourite anime.
“Mama, if we no go see snowy mountains, can I have birthday party?” he requests after a few minutes, tilting his head back against your arm to peer up at you cutely.
“You want a party enough to cancel the trip? You were really looking forward to that,” you comment, brushing his hair out of his eyes. You mentally make a plan to convince Mingyu to get a haircut so that Taehyung will also get his cut and stop the strands from hanging in his eyes, making him strain to see and giving him headaches.
Although the two don’t have matching haircuts and never have, as Taehyung likes his hair longer and Mingyu has his in a range of lengths and styles, Taehyung always refuses to let the hairdresser near him until Mingyu has gone first. Even though you’ve taken to Taehyung to the same shop to see the same hairdresser his whole life— the same man Mingyu has been seeing the whole time you’ve known him—, Taehyung always looks at the man as if he doesn’t know him and refuses to come out of hiding behind you until Mingyu has taken his turn in the chair first. Thankfully, Minghao is nothing but understanding and so unbelievably patient, even when he has to be extra careful due to Taehyung’s struggle with sitting still, so the boy still shuffles regularly in his seat. Mingyu does too, but he’s been friends with Minghao for so long that the man flicks his ear in scold; though only when Taehyung isn’t looking, not wanting to scare the boy into thinking he’ll be flicked if he gets the wriggles.
“I want party with my friends,” he answers.
“Mm, well, how about once we’re back from the trip, we’ll have your friends over here for a late birthday party?” you suggest, and all you need is to see the way Taehyung’s whole being lights up to know that he’s more than happy to agree.
Admittedly, you’re worried when Friday after school comes around because you still have that fear in your mind that Jeonghan will leave Taehyung out despite there having not been another issue since the first.
You’ve met Jeonghan before a few times and he’s always seemed like such a sweet little boy, even if he always looks halfway to asleep and like he probably has no idea what’s going on due to his constant fatigue— though he’s got a clever glint to his eyes, so you’re pretty sure he’s more alert mentally than his body physically is. Looking at the boy, you wouldn’t be able to guess he has a jealous streak where his lifelong best friend is concerned, you wouldn’t be able to guess he’s capable of being mean. But then again, you thought the same about most of the children at Taehyung’s old school, and they turned on him pretty easily.
Although you don’t want to worry so much about your son’s heart around his best friends, you can’t help it. Not after how hurt Taehyung was those weeks back, and how sensitive you know he can be, especially with those he loves so much. He puts his whole heart into everything that he leaves himself unprotected, so you can’t help but be worried and internally cautious in his place. You’ll never hold him back, but you will always keep an extra close eye on him when you can’t be certain he’ll come out unscathed.
To your genuine joy and relief though, you don’t receive a call to pick up Taehyung before time stated on the invitation for the end of the party, and he comes bouncing over to you with a bright grin, his school bag bouncing on his back, a party bag in one hand, and a balloon in the other.
You’re standing in the driveway talking with Seungcheol’s and Jisoo’s parents as you all arrived a good ten minutes before the pickup time, so decided to let the boys have those final minutes together. Though someone must’ve spotted you all outside as now the boys are all rushing out to excitedly blabber away about the party and their gift bags.
“Wow!” you hear Jisoo’s mother enthuse where she’s squatting down in front of her constantly smiling son. You’ve not had much chance to meet the woman before, especially not to talk to her for more than a quick greeting at pick ups and drop offs, but now that you’ve had the chance, you can say she is probably the sweetest person you’ve ever met. Looking at her with her son, you can so easily see the clear resemblance in the purity of their smiles.
“Look, a little Ponyo!” Seungcheol exclaims to his parents and little brother, taking a small dog plushie from his giftbag to show.
“Ponyo!” Hansol cheers and bounces towards his brother, grinning when Seungcheol lets him hold the toy that looks like their new puppy, before the toddler attaches to his big brother with a bright, gummy smile.
“Mama, can we buy many lots balloons?” Taehyung asks you after enthusiastically showing you his red balloon printed with golden stars, which he seems more interested in than his bulging party bag.
“You want more balloons?” you muse and then laugh softly when he nods with nothing but a serious expression on his face. “They make loud noises when they pop, remember?”
“Oh,” he murmurs, frowning as he recalls his last memories of a balloon popping and how much it scared him, prompting him to declare he hated balloons after. In fact, that last incident was almost a year ago and he hasn’t been near a single balloon since; at first, it was on purpose because he avoided them, but then he just didn’t have the chance to be near them, and you can assume he forgot about his newly unlocked fear. “We get quiet balloons?”
“I don’t think they exist.”
“Oh.” He deflates into a deeper frown and looks at his balloon as if it’s betrayed him. “This one loud pop too?”
“Not if you’re careful with it.”
Taehyung perks up again and nods determinedly. “I will be extra careful!”
“Okay, just don’t let your dad near it, you know how clumsy he is.”
“Clumsy, clumsy daddy,” he agrees, nodding, making you laugh quietly.
“Alright, let’s get going, grandma and grandpa are waiting at home for their favourite boy!” you enthuse and Taehyung’s whole being lights up, smiling big and bright and he bounces.
“Grandma and grandpa!” he cheers then turns to his friends still standing nearby to talk to their parents, with Jeonghan and his own also amongst the group now talking. “I–I can see my grandma and grandpa now!” he announces excitedly. Adorably, Taehyung’s friends all cheer as if they’re just as excited as him about the news. “Bye! See you Monday! Thank you for fun party Hannie, and Hannie’s mama and daddy!”
“You’re very welcome, Taehyung,” Jeonghan’s mother replies, smiling at him in the way most adults do honestly, in a way that means they think he’s utterly sweet and a joy to have around. It always makes you privately puff with pride. “It was lovely to have you here, thank you for coming.”
“Thank you for coming to my party, Tae,” Jeonghan agrees with a little smile then moves forward to hug Taehyung. Taehyung, of course, hugs back, then breaks into giggles when Seungcheol and Jisoo bounce over to join the hug. Then Hansol decides to join too, and wiggles himself right into the centre, making you all laugh.
“They’re so cute I might get cavities,” Jeonghan’s dad jokes, then looks at the baby monitor in his hand when a soft noise comes through. “I got the little princess,” he announces to his wife, then waves in farewell to you all before jogging into the house to care for the just-woken baby.
Somehow, you manage to get Taehyung in the car and strapped in despite the fact he refuses to let go of his balloon, scared it’ll float off up into space and an alien will get scared by it— you have no idea where he got that idea, but you decide to just awkwardly and very cautiously work around the balloon until he’s strapped in securely.
After a final farewell to the group still standing in the drive chatting, and a final thanks to the Yoon family, you get in your car and head home, listening to Taehyung retelling every second of the party happily from the backseat. Words you know you’ll have to hear at least twice more tonight as he repeats them to Mingyu’s parents, then the man himself once he’s home, but you really don’t mind.
On the day of Jimin’s birthday party, Taehyung is clearly very nervous about it. He’s never been to a farm before, so he doesn’t know what exactly to expect, even though he’s watched nothing but farm related programs and videos for the past two days to try and prepare himself and also asks you endless questions about farms and farmyard animals. You’re not ashamed to admit that you’ve had to defer to the internet many times, but you’ve learned a lot too. You’ve also ordered a couple of books that look interesting even to you. You have no idea if Taehyung will stop caring about how a farm works after today, but you think the books will be good to have anyway to give the boy a little more knowledge about something different than his current books do.
Even with a head full of fresh knowledge, and a printout of the farm’s map that you found on their website, Taehyung is anxious enough that he almost has a meltdown when every piece of clothing he owns are suddenly all wrong. Though when you literally offer him the t-shirt off your back— upon noticing how much he’s fiddling with the worn soft material and inhaling your scent off it to self soothe— Taehyung perks back up a little. Your t-shirt falls around his thighs and swallows him up, but he looks more at ease than he has all morning, so you don’t mind. It’ll be hidden under his coat, jumper, and dungarees anyway, so nobody will be able to tell that your five-year-old is literally wearing an adult’s t-shirt out all day.
Taehyung calms a lot after that, wrapped up cosy in your scent and the soft material, so getting ready goes smoothly, even if he keeps repeating the same questions about non-farm related things. You’re pretty sure he asks how old he was when you and Mingyu got your matching “T” tattoos, at least five times ever since first catching sight of it on your chest over your heart when you removed your t-shirt to give to him. Of course, it’s covered again now with another t-shirt, jumper, and coat as you head out the house to leave for the farm, but Taehyung still asks again.
“We got them on your first birthday,” you repeat, strapping him into his seat— after strapping the gift bag with Jimin’s present into the space at Taehyung’s side, at his concern he’ll drop it or it’ll fall to the floor.
“For me?” he asks.
“Of course, baby. You are the most important thing in the entire world to your daddy and I, so we got your initial tattooed over our hearts so you’re always close.”
“I get tattoo for both you when I am big,” he declares, making you smile.
“That’s sweet, baby. Maybe the three of us can get matching family tattoos,” you suggest, then giggle at the excited gasp Taehyung lets out.
“Yeah! Matchy match!” He starts to chatter away about the potential future family tattoo design. Even when you close his door and move to get into the front, he still talks away, and you just leave him to it with a little smile on your face as you drive.
It isn’t until you’ve parked at the farm and are crossing the lot to head to where you can see a group gathering that you really understand Taehyung’s concern for today.
“Mama,” Taehyung says, tugging on your hand so that you’ll stop and turn to look at where he’s standing and nervously staring off at the group— mostly smaller children, but you can spot a couple of older ones, though only one that looks to be around Taehyung’s age, and he’s wearing a birthday badge, so you safely assume that’s Jimin.
“What’s the matter, baby?” you ask, crouching down to be at his height, and hold both of his hands, even if one is already holding the handle of the gift bag.
“I am bigger,” he says, still staring at them. “What if they like not me because I am bigger? Or I hurt them playing?”
“You’re such a sweet boy, Tae, everyone loves you. And you’re always so careful. You played with Hansol at Seungcheol’s house, didn’t you? And Ponyo.”
Slowly, Taehyung turns his head to look at you as your words settle in his mind. You can already see the fear melting from his eyes as his tense expression softens out. “Yeah. I was super careful.”
“See? You know how to behave with smaller beings. You’re even so gentle with spiders when you move them for daddy.”
“Daddy is really scared of spiders,” he says, then giggles at the memories of all the times Mingyu has called for you or Taehyung, a literal child, to save him from a spider. Admittedly, you usually leave it to Taehyung to deal with as you’re not very keen on spiders yourself, but you at least don’t lose all ability to function like a human being like Mingyu does when faced with one.
“He is,” you confirm with your own little giggle, glad Taehyung is more like himself again. “Shall we go join the others? You can introduce me to Jimin,” you suggest.
“Okay, mama,” he agrees, so you get up and let go of his gift holding hand, before the two of you finish walking down the slight slope to get to the group. “Chim!”
“Tete!” the birthday badge wearing boy cheers, then darts over to almost tackle Taehyung in a hug. “I six!” he declares proudly to his friend, beaming a bright smile, eyes crinkling. Then he turns to you. “Hi! I Chim! I six!” he holds up one hand with all of his tiny fingers extended.
“Silly Chim,” Taehyung giggles and hands you the gift bag to help Jimin hold up his thumb on his other hand too. “This is six.”
“Oh.” Jimin stares at his hands then shows them to you while beaming again. “I six!”
“Wow, you’re getting so big, huh?” you enthuse, and he nods, grinning proudly and dropping his arms to his sides. “I’m Taehyung’s mama, thank you for letting us celebrate your birthday with you, Chim, it’s very kind of you.”
“You’re welcome!” he chirps, then gasps as Taehyung hands him the gift bag. “Present for Chim?”
“Yeah!” Taehyung replies, then giggles as Jimin plops on the gravel right then and there to start looking through the bag. Taehyung squats down next to him and happily watches his friend excitedly look at his gifts— which you had asked Jimin’s dad for advice about via text, just so that you didn’t get Jimin anything inappropriate for his abilities and interests, or something he already has.
“Hey, I’m Jimin’s dad, Namjoon,” the man that approaches you greets, offering his hand. “Well, stepdad technically, but I’ve been around since he was a baby, so we don’t generally specify that, but people can get weird about it if we don’t clarify upon first meeting,” he’s rambling a little, looking embarrassed by it too, but he can’t seem to stop himself.
“I get it, some people can be weird about the oddest stuff,” you muse, hoping your smile assures him that you don’t mind the awkward clarification or slight rambling. “It’s nice to meet you, officially, I mean,” you add your name in response, only now realising that while texting Namjoon, neither of you had actually told the other your first name.
“You too.” He smiles, dimples popping out. “We’re just waiting for one more person, then we can go in. But if he’s any longer, we’ll leave him behind,” he informs while looking down at his watch. He backtracks quickly upon noticing your alarmed expression when he lifts his head again and looks at you. “Oh! It’s not a child; it’s my best friend, he’s Jimin and Hyejin’s godfather. Hyejin’s my daughter, by the way, she’s nine,” he motions over to the oldest of the children, standing with who must be Jimin’s mother, the woman and little girl wearing matching coats. It’s only now that you realise that Jimin and Namjoon are also wearing matching coats and beanies. It’s precious.
“Ah, that makes sense, him being your friend and not a child, I mean,” you giggle amusedly, then look over when you hear a car pulling into the lot a little behind you.
“There he is, just on time. Usually, he’s late,” Namjoon muses.
“He must really want to see some cows,” you joke, and Namjoon laughs.
“He’s a big scaredy cat; he’ll likely refuse to go near the pens.”
“I’m here, I’m here!” the man that exits the now safely parked car exclaims as he rushes over, though upon spotting you, he lights up and calls your name. It takes you a second to recognise him bundled up in his layers, even if it’s not quite cold enough for that many.
“Oh, Hoseok,” you realise, and wave in greeting.
“What’re you doing here? Wait, Tae knows Chim?” Hoseok gasps, already ignoring both you and Namjoon to squat down with the two boys and hug them both at once, which the boys both happily and enthusiastically return with calls of “Hopie!”.
“Well, I guess introductions are not needed here,” Namjoon chuckles, looking bewilderedly between you and Hoseok questioningly.
“I’m a photographer, and Hoseok seems to like booking me for all his album shoots,” you muse.
“Oh, wait,” Namjoon gasps, eyes wide. “You did those? They’re incredible, I don’t blame him for booking you as j-hope’s exclusive photographer.”
“Ah, thank you.” You blush a little at the unexpected and very genuine praise; the man truly seems awed as he gawps at you.
“Honey!” The call makes Namjoon look over at his wife. “Time to go in.”
“Oh! Right!” Namjoon gives her a thumbs up then crouches down to help Jimin pack his gifts back into the bag before he stands up. “Come on, boys, let’s go meet some sheep!” he enthuses brightly, and the two boys cheer before marching after the tall man, their little hands happily clasped together and swinging wildly between them.
“So, Tae goes to the special school?” Hoseok wonders as the two of you follow behind the three a few steps, watching them with fond smiles on your faces for the cute boys. You hum in confirmation. “He’s five too, right?”
“Yeah.”
“What class is he in?” You give him a questioning look. “I know one of the teachers. Joon and I used to work with him, and he still produces my albums with me; doesn’t come out the woodwork for much else, honestly.” He chuckles.
“Would that happen to be Min Yoongi?”
“Yeah,” he confirms with a soft laugh. “He teaches Tae? I know he’s partly subbing a class around that age right now, but I wasn’t certain.”
You nod in confirmation with a soft hum to match. “He’s Tae’s favourite teacher, absolutely adores the man, and Jihoon.”
“Oh, you met Jihoonie too? That’s surprising.”
“Not at school, at a wedding, Jin’s. You know Jin, right?”
“Oh, yeah, yeah, I was in the middle of Europe on tour though, so I couldn’t make the wedding. He sent me a bunch of photos to rub it in that I missed it though,” he tuts, though he’s still smiling, not at all bothered by the older man’s childish actions. “Oh, wait!” He gasps, hands lifting to flap for a second in excitement before lowering. “Does that mean Tae was the ring bearer? Jin said a close friend’s son had the job, but not Jihoon because he would hate it. I don’t think he’s got any other friends with kids though.”
“Yeah, it was Tae.”
“You have to send me photos later; Jin didn’t send me any with Tae in, but I have to see him in his little suit. I bet he outshone the groom.”
“Of course he did,” you reply with a playful scoff that makes Hoseok laugh. The conversation ebbs off naturally there, and you both tune fully into the farm and the purpose of the afternoon.
As it turns out, Taehyung loves the farm. Of course, he’s not too fond of the smells really, but he is far too invested in the animals to really pay much attention to it.
Unfortunately, Taehyung loves the animals a bit too much, and when it’s time to leave, he doesn’t want to.
The last stop on the tour— which included a stop for a lovely picnic beside the play park the children had a blast in— is the petting barn, where all the youngest animals are kept for visitors to meet. And Taehyung has fallen completely in love with a lamb that seems more than happy to be wrapped in his arms where he sits on the dusty ground with the animal between his spread legs.
It takes a few minutes for you to convince Taehyung to let go of the lamb as tears roll down his cheeks. Even then, he only lets go when Jimin toddles over, looking like he wants to cry because his friend is, and hugs Taehyung tight.
Thankfully, Taehyung gets up and holds Jimin’s hand all the way back to the parking lot at the front, sadly peering at the gift shop as you pass. The store has been cordoned off due to a bad leak in the roof that is being fixed in off hours to not disturb visitors with the noise, making it impossible to go inside like Taehyung— and admittedly, you too— love to. His gaze is forlornly stuck to a sweet little lamb plushie on display, barely visible at the back of the store, but as Taehyung’s longing, tear wet gaze finds it, a fresh sob leaves his mouth, and your heart aches.
Many may call you utterly insane for it, may call you a push over of a parent spoiling your child, but you don’t care. So what if you spent three hours driving around in search of a lamb plushie for Taehyung, so what if it’s half the size of him. You’d buy him all the lamb plushies in the world if mends his broken heart even a little.
The entire three hours in the car, Taehyung had cried and asked to go back to the farm to “my baby”. You truly never expected your son to fall in love with a lamb of all animals and want to adopt it as his child, but a part of you isn’t entirely surprised and can’t blame him. The lamb was genuinely so sweet, so cute, friendly, and full of affection for your son in particular. Even before Taehyung had sat down, the lamb had trotted around after him as he did his best to give every animal in the petting pen attention and affection. It seemed the bond went both ways, and you did worry for a second that the lamb would also be distressed, but then you figured it probably does that with someone out of every group that visits the petting barn, and it won’t remember Taehyung by the time the next group arrived.
Even around the toy stores that you had carried him into to search the soft toy sections, Taehyung cried into your shoulder. You did find a few little lamb plushies in stores, but you knew before showing Taehyung that they wouldn’t be accurate representations of the current love of his life— eyes too beady, fur too scratchy, legs too short.
Though as soon as you saw the big, fluffy, and slightly weighted soft toy, you knew it was perfect. Taehyung had wailed when you put him down on his feet on the floor, but you had to in order to reach the toy off the shelf and present it to him. His tears didn’t immediately stop when he opened his eyes to look at the toy, but he did calm a lot, and by the time he was strapped back into the car with the lamb clutched in his arms and entirely covering him from your view, he was making content little sounds.
And now, he’s curled up on the sofa, half laid on his lamb with his leg wrapped around it as they both watch TV, and you know you’d drive three hours just for a soft toy without hesitation all over again when it clearly means this much to your son.
“Mama?” he calls, voice hoarse from all the crying, as you get up from the other end of the sofa to answer the door for your late-dinner pizza delivery.
“Yeah, baby?”
“I love you,” he says, tilting his head to make eye contact with you, and melting your heart into a gooey mess in your chest with the clear adoration in his gaze on you.
“I love you too, Tae, with everything in me,” you assure, and walk over to kiss his head before going to the door with your chest full of warm, gooey love.
Without a doubt, you’ll always do whatever you need to make your son happy, even if others would call you crazy for it. Nothing matters more than Taehyung’s happiness to you, and nothing will ever mean more. He’s your everything, even if he does make you an early grandmother to a lamb, apparently.
Don’t forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖
🌷Who: Xu Minghao (Seventeen) x female reader
🌷What: Fantasy. Fluff. Some humour. Strangers to Friends to Lovers. Neighbours au. Witch Minghao.
🌷Word count: 7.6k
🌷Warnings: Reader is somewhat recently divorced at the start, but she’s more than okay with that! Mentions of past cheating (reader’s asshole ex). Mentions of pre-story death of previous tenant. Some profanity. Minghao is a bit of a dick at the start ngl. Reader is kind of a mess at times, and I think it’s highly relatable of her. A couple very innocent kisses.
🌷Summary:
After divorcing your cheating asshole of an ex-husband, you use the very generous money you gain from the ordeal to buy a house on the complete opposite side of the country to make a fresh start.
The online photos of the house are beautiful, and the gardens even more so, though the reality is a little different by the time you arrive. Still, you love it and are determined to turn this house into a home.
It’s just a matter of doing your best to ignore the man who seems to have serious issue with you moving into the house, and makes his feelings known with glares that are the furthest thing from neighbourly as a person can get. It’d be a whole lot easier to ignore him if he wasn’t so damn attractive.
I block any blank blog that interacts.
Masterlist
A/N- This was written as part of @dorereef’s spring event, The Reef In Bloom! This event has been such a joy to participate in, the other members have been so lovely and enthusiastic that I really hope to join up with them for another event soon 🥺💗
Almost two months ago, you moved to a sweet little town— barely bigger than a village really—, into a house that had been left empty and untouched for over a year. Although it was a little run down, you fell in love with the images of the homely-looking building on the estate agent’s website and bought it without even visiting.
Of course, your urge to get as far away from your ex-husband and everyone you once knew probably drove you to snatch up the house so quickly; you probably would’ve at least asked the agent in charge of the sale some questions about why the house was still unpurchased after a whole year when it truly is beautiful. But you were desperate to leave and start a new life, your own life, that you didn’t even try to ask.
It doesn’t take you long to realise that you really should’ve asked.
Finally, after over seven weeks of cleaning from top to bottom, redecorating every room, and buying and assembling furniture, your home feels complete. At least, on the inside because the garden is another matter entirely.
Part of what first drew you to the house wasn’t the building itself, but the beautiful garden that wraps around the entirety of it, full of lush, green grass, and so many flowers and plants that you couldn’t hope to even try to name them all. You had seen the carefully curated gardens in the photos and fell in love.
What you failed to consider though, was that the photos were taken over a year ago, when the house first went up for sale, and now it’s been neglected for at least that long.
The once tidy and obviously adored garden has turned into a veritable jungle that you have no idea what to do with, but you need to try if you want even a semblance of a chance of returning it to its former glory.
Which is all well said and done; you’re sure even a half decent home gardener would be able to tackle the tangle of leaves and stems, however, you are not a half decent home gardener. In fact, you’ve never handled a single flower that wasn’t already cut and tied up in paper, topped with a bow and a little card full of false promises and love declarations from your ex-husband.
Having been born and raised in the middle of the city, always living in blocks of pristine apartments, you never had the chance to own even a single little potted cactus. When you were younger, you were never particularly interested in plants anyway, so you really didn’t mind growing up without any in your home. Then, you got a job and didn’t even think about plants. Even the ones you walked past to work, you never considered them really, more that you were just used to them being dotted around, just part of the scenery.
Unfortunately, by the time you developed an interest in growing plants, you were married to a man that point blank refused to bring anything dirty into the spotless apartment. All you wanted was a single potted plant to keep you company during the day at home until he returned, unable to even socialise with the staff he hired to keep your shared home exactly as he liked it. You had been so lonely even as the staff bustled around day in day out; all you wanted was something alive to tend to and bond with, but you weren’t allowed, and you were left with a heart aching for something you believed you’d never have.
Yet now, you have more plants and garden than you know what to do with. Still, you’re determined to give it your best. After a few days of research and buying all the supplies you may potentially need, you step out of your front door ready to do your best to return the gardens to their former glory.
Only to immediately freeze upon noticing your neighbour walking past your house, his head already swivelled to glare in disdain at you, at your mess of a garden.
“G–good morning,” you greet, waving a little awkwardly.
As expected from the sour man, he only grunts in response— it’s such a vague sound, but you can feel the contempt rolling off of him towards you—, and then he sharply turns his head away and walks to his own home, all but slamming the door behind him.
From the very first day you moved in, as soon as you stepped your foot out of your car and onto your driveway for the first time, you just knew with everything in you that the man had scared off every potential buyer when they had visited the house for a viewing. He had been standing on his front doorstep, arms crossed and dark eyes staring you down. Which honestly, scared the shit out of you, it was such an evil look; but you had already bought the house, so you didn’t turn and run away despite the urge rearing up within you.
You had hoped that your neighbour would get used to your presence, would soften up, and at least stop glaring at you like he’s trying to curse your entire bloodline with a look, but he hasn’t. You even tried going old school and baked some cupcakes to take over to gift him while introducing yourself the next day. Yet he had sharply refused the gift, claiming to not eat sweets; only for you to spot him returning home the next day, chewing on a chocolate chip cookie the size of your hand.
The man hadn’t even introduced himself either, so even though it’s been almost two months, you have no idea what the name of your nearest neighbour is. You know the names of at least a dozen people who live in the town already from your shopping trips and walks— all of whom are lovely, to your joy—, yet not his.
Although you should be used to the man’s obvious hatred for you at this point, you’re not. Every time you catch him glaring in your direction, or when he only grunts in response to your greetings, it hurts. You’ve done nothing to warrant such hostility, and you don’t know how to fix it. The last thing you want is to spend the rest of your life living next door to man that despises your entire existence for reasons unknown, but you’ve put too much into making this old house a home that you refuse to leave.
You hope that with a little more time, he’ll at least lose a little of the fire in his sharp gaze when it’s directed towards you, but you’re not going to hold your breath, just the hope cupped close in your chest.
It takes a few days of you wandering around the garden to carefully inspect every inch and do further research on the plants already settled there before you actually start to work on the garden. You hadn’t wanted to go barging in, digging, and pulling only to kill any of the life buried in the soil; you wanted to do your best to find out which plants you need to carefully work around to keep alive, and the ones you need to pull up to stop them from hurting your other plants.
Even when you’re pretty sure that the plant you’re kneeling before is, in fact, a weed that you need to pull up to save the flowers it is winding around, you hesitate; so scared that you’re wrong or will hurt the innocent flowers getting strangled.
You’re entirely unaware of the man peering down at you from his upstairs hallway window, that he’s been watching you meander around the garden the past couple of days, utterly puzzled about what you’re doing.
“Come on, you can do this,” you mutter to yourself before taking a few steadying breaths and leaning in to carefully start unwinding the weed from the stem of the flower closest to you.
Honestly, it’s a lot harder than you thought it’d be, you have to be so careful— or maybe not as careful as you’re being, but you’re inexperienced and scared to do something wrong—, and the strangling weed is a complete asshole. Just when you think you’ve freed a plant from it’s grasps, you notice another tiny, easy to miss vine curled around a stem, and you have to lean even closer, work even slower and cautiously to make sure you only pinch the weed off and not the stem of the flowers you want to save.
It takes hours for you to finish that one small flower bed, but when you get up ready to go indoors for a late lunch, you could swear the flowers look brighter, look like they’re standing tall and happy. Although they’re just plants, and they can’t possibly have such feelings, the thought still makes you smile, and you practically skip into your house with pride in your chest from your hard work.
On the third day of practically crawling around your garden on your hands and knees amongst the overgrown grass and sprawling stems and vines, you find yourself interrupted in the midst of a very one-sided conversation with a particularly happy looking weed. Honestly, you think it’s rather pretty and don’t want to remove it, but it’s greedily sucking all the water from the soil before the surrounding plants can get any, so you don’t really have a choice.
“Are you ready?” you ask the weed, after a very thorough pep talk to you both, letting the plant know that you have every intention of replanting it in the large plant pot you found hiding amongst an overgrown blackberry bush at the bottom of the back garden.
You don’t realise that you’re being watched in utter bewilderment until a truly unexpected voice meets your ears when you’ve got one hand in the already loosened soil, fingers amongst the thick roots of the weed, and the other hand carefully wrapped around the bottom of the main stem to keep it upright as you lift.
“What the fuck?”
Immediately, your head whips around, and your wide, startled gaze finds your neighbour standing on the other side of the low wall separating your side gardens— his much smaller than your own, and barely big enough to get his bicycle down the grassy strip to the shed in the back garden. He’s looking at you with eyes wide and mouth parted in what looks like astonishment.
“Uhm, hello,” you greet, shuffling on your knees a little, awkward, and not sure how you’re supposed to respond to the man. It’s the first time you’ve seen him face on without his gaze piercing down to your very soul.
“Did you just pull that weed out with your bare hands?” he questions, dumbly pointing to it, so you also look at the weed; the thick roots tangled between your fingers further than you realised, and soil covering your skin. Initially, you did wear gloves— and still do with the potentially harmful plants— but it’s easier to feel around the delicate plants without the thick material in the way, so you mostly don’t bother to wear them.
“It’s not poisonous,” you clarify, looking at the man. “I checked.”
“I didn’t mean that. I know it only harms other plants by stealing their water, but it’s stubborn. I’ve never seen anyone pull one without the use of some very strong tools, and even then, they usually need help.
“Oh, really?” you wonder, turning back to the plant, not noticing the roots gently winding around your wrist; the sensation too light and your focus elsewhere to notice. “I guess this one is a gentle soul,” you muse, then shuffle over to do as promised and carefully replant the weed in the waiting pot already full of fresh, damp soil. “There, now you can have all the water you want without hurting the others,” you declare once you’re done after pouring more water onto the soil.
When you get up and stretch, getting ready to relocate the pot a few metres away to a spot you think the weed will like a lot, yet not be a risk to other plants, you’re shocked to find your neighbour still standing there gawping at you. You’re not sure what to do or say. You want to move the pot and return to the flowerbed, but you know that you’ll have to awkwardly shimmy and shove the heavy pot, and you really don’t want the pretty man to watch you look so foolish, especially the first time that he’s shown an interest in you.
Honestly, you kind of hate that even when he’s done nothing but be icy towards you these past two months, you still think he’s so unbelievably beautiful. You don’t think it fair that people can be so mean without reason and still be blessed with such beauty. It’s unfair. Even a few weeks back when you told yourself you’d stop looking over whenever you notice him outside, you couldn’t help but want to catch a glimpse of his features, loveliness unmarred by the scowl etched into his expression whenever he met your gaze. You really did try to stop looking at him, but such a stunning masterpiece deserves to be admired, and you’ve always been a lover of art.
“How did you do that?” he mutters, still staring at the happily replanted weed. You really don’t know what to say, and you think miming the actions would entirely freak the man out, so you just stand there, twisting your soil dusted fingers together awkwardly, and blinking innocently, hoping he’ll move on already. Unfortunately, he doesn’t. “Seriously, what kind of charm did you use?” he enthuses, eyes widening in awed interest as they lift and land on you, as if he’s trying to look into your mind for his answers.
“Uhm…I don’t understand the question,” you admit. “Is…is this flirting?” you ask, pulling an uncertain face. You feel your heart drop a little at the way he rears back as if even the mere idea of him flirting with you is absurd.
“What? No!” He straightens up, levelling you with an expression that’s half boggled and half bewildered, with a little befuddlement thrown in.
“Oh. Sorry, you said charm, and I just…that’s a flirting thing, isn’t it? When someone uses their charm?”
For what feels like minutes, the man just stares at you, as if he needs time to fully register and absorb the words you’ve said. “Oh, you’re not using any magic.” There’s realisation in his tone as his whole posture changes, something a little awkward now, especially when he realises that now you’re staring at him as if you need time to understand what he’s said to you. Though when you do speak, it’s clearly not what he expects, if the way his eyebrows lift in surprise is anything to go on.
“Is that flirting?” you mumble a little dumbly, feeling so lost and out of your depth. A feeling that only grows when the last thing you expect to happen, happens. The man giggles. It’s a light, airy sound, melodic and so pretty, and so truly unexpected from the man who has done nothing but glare at you for two months. It makes your entire being malfunction, brain shutting off, heart racing, stomach flipping, and mouth moving to make some garbled attempt at words before your legs make you dart off inside, slam the door behind you, and then curl up on the floor against it in the strangest display of self-preservation you’ve ever enacted.
For the man’s part, he just stares after you in surprise for a few moments, then lets out another one of those giggles before he turns and heads back into his own house.
It’s almost twenty minutes before you’ve recovered enough to get up and stealthily peer out of the window overlooking the area of the garden that you had dedicated this morning to. You have the perfect view of the low wall splitting your land from the neighbour’s and let out a breath of relief to find him nowhere in sight.
“It’s fine, he’ll go back to glaring and I’ll never have to face him again, it’s fine,” you mutter as you tentatively return to the door to edge outside, convincing yourself to not hide in your house for the rest of your life so that you’ll never have to face your pretty neighbour again after making such a colossal fool out of yourself.
For the first hour of returning to gardening, you feel on edge, like the man will appear at any moment and question what kind of strange place you must be from to act like that. Thankfully, you get lost in your work and forget all about looking over your shoulder, returning to your plants with a content smile on your face.
To your horror, the very next day when you step out in the morning for another day of work, your pretty neighbour is standing on the other side of your closed gate as if he’s waiting for you, a tiny smile tilting his lips, and a cake box in his hands. It’s wrapped with a pretty orange bow the same colour as the little apron you tie around your waist every day to hold your most used gardening tools for easy access, and though you vaguely notice that, you quickly dismiss it as coincidence. There’s no way your neighbour purposely asked them to wrap it in that colour ribbon to match. No way. You also ignore the fact that you’ve bought from that bakery yourself a few times since moving to town, and you’ve only seen them use pale blue ribbons.
“Good morning,” he starts, shuffling the box a little so that one hand can lift, and his slender fingers can wiggle at you in a wave. You wave dumbly back, and his smile lifts. “I think we really got off on the wrong foot, and I’d like to make up for it. May we start over?” You don’t say anything, still too busy staring in shock. “My name is Minghao; I’m your neighbour, and I’d really like to get to know you,” he informs, tone gentle, and tags your name on the end as if you’re not already halfway to a mental breakdown from his mere presence.
The fact that he had actually paid attention when you introduced yourself that day— before shutting the door in your face— and remembers, feels like a much bigger deal than it is. You just genuinely hadn’t expected him to ever call you by your name, to even willingly talk to you, so hearing it fall so effortlessly, so easily from his lips, stuns you a little.
“I’m not a good baker, but I bought cupcakes; you know, sweeten the deal?” he jokes, smiling a little embarrassed by his own words, and cheeks so endearingly pink.
You squeak, then abruptly turn into your house, and hide behind the closed door.
When you recover moments later, you knock your forehead against the door and berate yourself for making a fool of yourself again in front of the man. If this is going to become a regular thing, you think you’re going to have to move away to save yourself endless future embarrassments.
It’s utterly out of character for you too; you’ve never made such a fool of yourself because of a pretty man before. Then again, you’ve never seen such a pretty man before, and you think that means you probably get a pass or two for not being able to react like a functioning human at the sound of his giggle, or your name said in his gentle voice, or a shy blush. Really it’s his fault for attacking you with sweetness after so much sour. You thought that was the man he is: nothing more than a bitter, unsociable asshole, but it seems that he has seriously mislead you.
The more you think about it, the more you want to know why he acted so coldly towards you, only to turn his attitude around all of a sudden. You think that you deserve an explanation, and you certainly won’t get one hiding away in your house.
With a renewed sense of determination flowing through your veins, you straighten your posture and open the door, only to lose a little of that strength and shrink slightly upon spotting Minghao still standing on the other side of the waist height wooden gate, leaning his right elbow on the thick top, chin propped on his palm, and amusement sparkling in his eyes as he watches you.
“Hi,” he greets, smiling as you step out of your home like a newborn lamb taking their first steps; uncertain and about ready to drop on your ass in a mess of weak legs if he keeps looking at you like this.
“Hi,” you reply, a barely audible croak, but he smiles wider and straightens up.
“I wasn’t sure what ones to get, so I went the safe route and bought lemon raspberry,” he informs as he holds the box over the gate in offer.
“That’s the safe option?” you wonder bewildered as you slowly get closer, approaching cautiously as if he’s going to reach out and sucker punch you in the throat. Or giggle; that’s potentially more dangerous, at least for your juddering heart and apparently very weak mental state when faced with gorgeous men. Or this gorgeous man in particular, you should say.
“Well, it’s sweet and sour, best of both worlds if you ask my friend. Though, I think he’d still rather more lemon, but he’s a freak, so we don’t consider his opinion where sour is concerned.”
“You do realise you just contradicted yourself, right?”
Just as you accept the gift into your hands, Minghao giggles, realising you’re right, and you almost drop the cupcakes. He flails his arms out to help, his hands settling over yours on either side of the box, and you can only stare dumbly up at him at the touch, how close you are. Dammit, he’s even prettier up close.
“We saved them,” he grins playfully at you.
And you, in all your brainless state when faced with this man and his smile, say perhaps the dumbest thing you possibly can right now. “My ex-husband cheated on me,” you blurt, and immediately turn wide eyed when Minghao recoils in shock, his hands leaving yours and his eyes widening to match yours.
“Uh—”
“I mean that I’m very single!” you declare, brain still apparently offline as you only make things worse. “I–I mean–” you stammer out a mess of panicked, jumbled words as Minghao’s expression melts, then twists into something that’s half amused, half utterly insanity inducing where it’s tucked into his smirk.
“Is this flirting?” he teases, leaning on his palms on the gate, tilting in towards you as he repeats the words you asked him less than 24 hours ago.
“Fact!” you sputter, shaking your head.
“Ah, I see. Well, if we’re exchanging facts, I’m very single too.”
“Good!” His lips turn up into a toothy grin, a little dark around the edges as his gaze remains utterly entertained and teasing on you. “I–I mean–”
“Do you have tea?” he asks, nodding towards your house, making you peek over your shoulder at it naturally to follow his prompt, then turn your head back to look at him and nod dumbly, head wobbling loosely and mouth still open from being cut off from your nervous, embarrassed rambling. “How about I come inside for tea?”
“Is that a euphemism?” you whisper, and he cracks up, leaning down onto the gate as he laughs bodily.
“Oh, you are precious,” he giggles, peering up at you from his hunched over spot.
“Thank you.”
He giggles some more before gathering himself and straightens up, cheeks bunched with how big he’s grinning. “So, tea?”
“Why did you glare so much?” you blurt, brain kicking back in enough to remember the whole reason you stepped back out of your house. You think that if you don’t take the chance to confront the man while you can, you’ll lose the will and ability and just get swept along with his sweet giggles and teasing gaze.
Minghao’s amusement melts away bit by bit at your words, until he’s looking aside with what appears like guilt on his features while he stares at the garden to your left, right where you left the pot with the pretty weed yesterday. “I’m not sure I can really explain, not in a way you’ll understand,” he admits, tone quieter, uncertain almost. “I can imagine it will be a lot for you to take in, to accept even. You’re not…” He sighs and returns his gaze to you. “I’m sorry for how I acted, it wasn’t kind of me at all. I suppose in simple turns, I was jealous. I’ve wanted this house for the garden since it went up for sale, but I couldn’t afford it, so when you moved in, I assumed you wouldn’t care for the garden at all, that you didn’t deserve such a place as this. But I was wrong; you deserve it more than I ever could, that proves it.” He points to the pot, confusing you.
“How does that prove anything?” He just gives you a little smile that you somehow just know means he has no intention of elaborating at all. “Right.” You frown a little, confused, and not sure what is the correct thing to do here when there’s clearly something Minghao is refusing to explain, but you also don’t think it’s your place to push.
When you reach out, Minghao steps back slightly, eyes widening, though he relaxes when you just unlatch the gate and pull it open in silent offer.
“Thank you,” he says, sounding so genuinely grateful and pleased that you quickly turn to lead the way into the house, and only trip slightly on the step leading into the house. “Oh, careful,” he worries, hands on your upper arms, having reached out to steady you.
You just hum vaguely in response, too scared to open your mouth in case something stupid comes out again, and rush to the kitchen to put the cupcake box on the table and get started putting the kettle on to boil.
“Oh, it’s beautiful in here,” Minghao comments, sounding awed as he looks around where he’s standing just inside the kitchen, seeming genuinely interested in the décor and little knickknacks you’ve placed around to make the place yours.
“Thank you.”
“It’s a huge change from how Elodie had it.”
“Elodie?”
“Oh, right.” He looks at you and smiles softly. “The previous owner. She had lived here for decades, ever since she married her husband. They raised all of their children here, helped raised grandchildren, and then he passed, and she followed not long after, too empty without him in this house to have the strength to go on.”
“Oh, that’s so sad.”
“In a way, but it’s beautiful in others; how much love they shared. They lived a long, happy life together, full of love and joy, and they’ll continue that in their afterlife. I think that’s the best life a person can live; finding love and true happiness like that, do you not agree?”
“I do, but I don’t think it’s possible for everyone, for most of us.”
“Respectfully, I disagree.” He moves over to help you set up the table as the kettle signals it’s boiled.
Although it makes no sense, although it shouldn’t be possible— especially considering the strained and awkward relationship the two of you have shared until now—, you and Minghao move around your kitchen together as if you’ve done this a million times. Of course, he doesn’t know where you keep items, but he asks in a gentle tone you naturally match without thinking when you answer. It’s calm; the two of you gathering everything needed without bumping into each other once and sitting down at the table opposite one another to share the cupcakes.
“So, what do you think?” he queries when you’ve taken a few bites of your cupcake, his own in a similar partially eaten state on the cute little plate before him. Plates you could not walk away from once you saw them in a second-hand store only last week. They’re too small to use for an actual meal, so you had been worried you wouldn’t find a reason to use them, but you just couldn’t leave them in the store; they’re far too cute, and you had immediately fallen in love with them.
It had made your heart flutter in a funny little pleased way when Minghao had also seemed to fall in love with the plates once he spotted them in the cupboard and excitedly grabbed two to set up for the pair of you to eat your cupcakes off. Honestly, you had intended to not bother with plates at all and just sweep the crumbs from the table after, you hadn’t even considered using the plates, but you’re more than happy that Minghao had suggested it.
“Hm?” you hum questioningly, and he points at the cupcake on your plate. “Oh, delicious. Sweet and a little sour, perfectly balanced.”
“Yeah, I think so too,” he agrees, smiling at you in an almost tender kind of way.
For a few moments, the two of you just hold gentle eye contact, share matching smiles, before he looks down, cheeks dusted pink. Neither of you say anything more, falling into a content, calm silence that feels so right that you hope this won’t be the last time that the two of you share tea and cupcakes at your kitchen table as if there’s nothing but this table, this moment, in the whole world.
Somehow, after that day, spending time with Minghao suddenly becomes such an everyday routine that not seeing him feels so wrong that you don’t quite know what to do with yourself when it happens.
“Missed me that much?” Minghao’s voice teases from right behind you where you’re sitting in your garden, aimlessly moving around the freshly sprinkled soil in the flowerbed in front of you, mind stuck on what Minghao has been doing for the past three days he’s not been home.
“Hao,” you gasp, turning to look up at him with rounded eyes. “You’re back. You said you’d be gone a week.”
“Mm missed your tea too much. You make the best tea, you know?” he replies as he sits a little to your side on the grass you cut only a few days ago.
It’s been weeks of tackling the garden— often with Minghao close by—, removing all the weeds, and pruning away until you could reasonably drag a lawn mower over the grass. Surprisingly, the grass is in great condition for the most part, only a few bare, patchy sections where you’ve had to remove harmful weeds and move decorative rocks to make it easier to mow.
“I do?” you ask, perking up a little at the compliment. You know it’s a huge compliment too, Minghao is something of a tea connoisseur, which you found out the very first time you entered his kitchen and saw his impressive collection of teas. He even has multiple tea sets which he uses depending on the vibe he wants— his own words.
“You do,” he confirms as he smiles at you in that same gentle way he always does these days, ever since the second time you ran away from him when overwhelmed by his pretty face and precious smile. You’d like to say that it hasn’t happened since, but that’d be a lie.
Even after these weeks of being friends with Minghao, he still finds ways to fluster you and make your brain stop functioning. Honestly, you’re pretty sure that he does it on purpose, finding your reactions funny; but you never have it in you to scold him, not when he’s gained the habit of reaching out to hold you in place so you that can’t run away. Sometimes, it’s just his hand holding yours securely that pins you down, but others, if it’s physically possible, Minghao’s arms find their way around you, and he holds you close to his chest with his head tilted to rest against yours. Maybe, sometimes, you pretend that you’re going to run away just so that he’ll pull you close, but you won’t tell him that.
“Though, I didn’t just miss your tea,” he adds as he watches his hand brush over the freshly cut grass.
“No? The garden?” you assume, knowing how much Minghao loves your garden, how he wanted to buy the house purely for the garden, yet couldn’t financially manage it.
Minghao’s house is half the size of yours, only built for two people really, with a much smaller garden to match; and so, even if he sold it, he wouldn’t have had the funds to buy your house when it was available. He had been trying so hard to save up though; hence why he scared potential buyers away, hoping he could keep the house free long enough to gather the funds. But you bought it, and he burned with envy.
He’s let it go now and even admitted to you that he knew he’d never realistically be able to afford it. But hope can be a dangerous thing at times, and it took him until he watched you genuinely love and care for your then neglected garden to let that soured hope free and accept the facts.
Though, only days into your friendship, when you gave him permission to help you tend to the gardens and allotted him an area to grow whatever he wants there— having overrun his own modest garden—, you saw something lift in him, and he’s been nothing but grateful and so lovely since.
Not that Minghao isn’t a genuinely lovely person— when he’s not being a jealous asshole, that is. He’s truly such a wonderful man that you find it impossible to calm the butterflies in your stomach every time you find him looking at you with that soft gaze. But there’s something even sweeter in his smiles now, something that lightens his steps and makes him almost float into your garden every single day when he spots you out there.
Logically, it makes sense that, other than your tea-making skills, Minghao has missed your garden. In fact, you’ve never seen the man happier than when he’s sitting in your garden, smiling contently at you over a cup of tea, and soil staining his fingers around the porcelain.
“No, not the garden either,” he replies, utterly bewildering you. He glances at you from under his lashes, smiles, then lifts his head just enough to lock his gaze with yours, let you see the truth in his eyes. “You, I missed you.”
Your eyes widen in surprise, and your heart skips probably about five too many beats to be healthy, but you don’t care, barely even notice. Especially as your mind shuts down and focuses entirely on the beautiful man before you, his words.
As soon as your body starts to move, tries to run away to hide, Minghao reaches out to grab your arms and pull you in. So naturally that it feels like you were made for this, you curl up against him, tuck up against his chest as he settles you between his spread thighs, your left shoulder pressing to his chest with your arms curled up, fingers loosely grasping his t-shirt. Minghao’s arms settle around you, his head rests against the top of yours, and you never want to be anywhere else. The content little breath he lets out makes you think that maybe, he feels the same way.
After some minutes, when your brain decides to come back online fully instead of floating around on Minghao shaped clouds, you try to sit up. Minghao makes a noise of displeasure and tugs you back, earning a little giggle to fall from your lips. You feel his cheek bunch against your hairline as he smiles.
“Let me go put the kettle on for tea,” you say, smile evident in your light tone.
“Tea can wait.”
You gasp and lean back enough to look at him in shock. “Tea can wait?”
“This is more important,” he assures. One arm breaks your comfortable cocoon as he lifts it so that he can tenderly brush his fingers over your cheek. He says nothing, but he doesn’t need to. You tilt into his hold, prompting his palm to curve against your cheek, and he lets out another one of those content sighs. “You’re so beautiful, you know?”
“Says you,” you return, tone matching his gentle one, only loud enough for the pair of you, nothing mattering past your garden, your little bubble of home. “You’re so pretty it makes me do and say dumb things.”
Minghao giggles, and you whine a little, unable to stop it, or the way your eyes round out, so enamoured by his adorable giggles that you can’t keep it off your face any longer. Not that you’ve ever been good at hiding it, but this close with one of his slender hands still reverently caressing your skin, you couldn’t hide your adoration if you tried.
“Mm, I noticed that,” he muses teasingly and leans a little closer as he grins softly. “But I like it, like how honest you are with your reactions.”
“Even though it makes me look like a fool?”
“Even though,” he agrees with a nod. “Maybe especially because it does. It’s so cute and strokes my ego.”
“I’d love to stroke you,” you mutter dumbly as his thumb brushes the edge of your mouth. Minghao snorts a laugh, leaning back so he doesn’t laugh directly in your face. “I didn’t mean like that…not that I’d say no…if you want to do that.”
Minghao giggles again and leans back in to press a kiss to your forehead that makes you gasp softly and grip his t-shirt tighter, pulse thrumming under your skin from the unexpected affection. “Let me at least take you on a date first,” he teases. You can’t nod fast enough, setting him off into giggling laughter all over again as he curls around you and holds you closer, as if there’s nowhere he’d rather be.
A year and a half ago, you moved to a sweet little town, into a house that had been left empty and untouched for over a year, and you turned it into your home.
And now, after almost a year since that day in the garden when Minghao first asked you on a date, the house next to yours is empty. You can’t help but frown a little as you peer at it from your bedroom window, recalling all the memories you made with the man who once lived there, how much happiness you created together there.
Though, the arms winding around your waist from behind, the lips that press a tender kiss to your temple as you lean back against a familiar chest, makes the frown lift into a sweet little smile. “Stop looking at it like that, or I’ll start to believe you regret asking me to move in,” Minghao teases against your skin, tightening his hold on you a little as he leans closer into you, both of you always moving to be tucked up as close as possible in these moments of affection.
“Ridiculous man,” you scold, scoffing, yet the smile on your face only grows.
“You love this ridiculous man.”
“I do,” you confirm without hesitation, with nothing but truth in your tone. “And he loves me too.” You turn your head so that you can meet his adoring gaze.
“With everything in me,” he agrees, with just as much certainty as you spoke with, then leans in to press a kiss to your lips. “Now, come to bed, it’s our first night in our shared home.” He giggles, sounding a little giddy at his own reminder, then quickly ushers you over to the bed after closing the curtains to block out the night and give you the privacy to be able to sleep comfortably.
The pair of you excitedly clamber under the covers and cuddle up, though you both know neither of you are ready to sleep yet, too full of joyous energy thanks to this big step in your relationship, this start of a new life together; a life you both hope will be as happy and full of love as the life of previous family who lived here once upon a time.
“Hao,” you prompt after a while of content quiet between you, happy to just lay basking in one another’s love and affection. He hums questioningly in response. “I think, considering that we now live together, it’s about time you tell me the truth.”
Minghao’s hand trailing mindlessly over your waist immediately stops. “What? What does that mean?” he asks, sounding confused and a little upset. “I haven’t lied to you.”
“I know, but you haven’t told me the truth either.” You adjust, wriggling around until you’re leaning up on your elbows on his right and peering down at his furrowed features looking at up at you in the dull lamp light. “The very first day we became friends, when you told me your name and invited yourself over for tea–”
“You opened the gate,” he reminds, sounding a little petulant, making you giggle shortly before continuing.
“You told me I wouldn’t understand why you hated me so much for buying this house.”
“Oh.” His expression turns into understanding, and he tugs you back down, making you return to your rightful place at his side with your head on his chest— not that he ever needs to make you cuddle up to him, you’re always more than happy do to that. “I guess it is time I tell you, huh; you’ll learn soon enough anyway, now that we live together and I won’t be able to keep hiding it from you.”
“Wait, hiding—” you try to question him, but he shushes you and holds you tighter, places a kiss on your hairline to placate you into falling still and silent.
“You know how I always say the garden is special? Things grow and thrive there in a way they wouldn’t in my old garden, despite it being only a wall away?” You hum in confirmation, easily recalling the words he’s muttered many times over the past year you’ve been tending the garden together. “There are things that can only grow in this garden, in this soil, and Elodie used to grow them for me, knowing I needed them for my work, and it’s very expensive to get them shipped in from other places.”
“So you were pissed that you had to keep spending all that money to get your fancy flowers for your teas?” you reason, assuming that the plants Elodie used to grow, the plants Minghao now grows in the garden, are ones he dries and makes up into the homemade tea blends he runs a rather successful business selling mostly online, though some locals would turn up at his house— old house— asking for wares.
“Sort of, but not exactly,” he giggles. “They’re not exactly teas, my love.”
“What do you mean? I’ve seen them, we have them filling a cupboard in the kitchen.”
“We do and those are teas, nothing more.”
“Nothing more?” you repeat, wanting to lift up to give him a suspicious look, but he holds you firm, knowing exactly that you intended to do that.
“The ones I sell to the locals and special clients, my real source of income and true job, are potions I make as a witch.”
“A witch?!” you shriek, rearing up so fast that Minghao’s arms fly off you. Then again, the man is too busy laughing away on the mattress to hold on, finding your reaction so hilarious. Especially when he can tell that you believe him entirely, don’t even think he’s joking with you despite how a part of him thought you would accuse him of playing around. But it makes him happy, makes his heart swell, so full of love for the woman who trusts him with her entire heart and soul. He’s eternally grateful for that.
“Yes, I’m a witch, born and raised,” he confirms through his giggles, beaming up at you. “This house was built on magic soil, or the ground became infused with magic over the years, nobody really knows.”
“Is that why you glow here?” you wonder, tilting your head curiously as you sit cross legged by his side.
“Glow?” he repeats, looking utterly bewildered. “Magic doesn’t make a person glow.”
“No?” Your features scrunch a little in confusion. “Then what’s that about? Ever since you started to spend more time here, you look like you glow, not physically, but like…from within.”
Minghao’s expression turns into understanding; he sits up to cup your face and presses a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. “That glow is my love for you, growing stronger each day I spend by your side. You make me glow, sweetheart, not magic.”
“Oh,” you breathe out, cheeks warming, and eyes round and sparkling on him. “I want to make you glow like that for the rest of my life.”
“Good, because I’m never leaving your side,” he promises, and seals it with a kiss that makes you feel so warm and fuzzy, like maybe, he’s not the only one who glows.
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