farewell, my love

[abandoned]

[sonnenfuchs]

bidding my goodbye

hi there!

as some of you might have seen, recently i have been contemplating a new start, and i decided it would be for the best. i will be leaving this blog, and this alias behind.

i honestly want to thank every last one of you for following me, reading my stories, liking and reblogging them, as well as sending in lovely words. i enjoyed my time on here very much, and it definitely is a bitter sweet goodbye. i will still be lurking on here, but under a different name, but please don’t come searching for me.

for all the friends i made on here, i will be giving out my new url in private if you still want to stay in contact with me! i definitely would love to!

again, thank you all very much.

lucy

[sonnenfuchs]

Hey love, can you 86 +jungkook please? You really good!!

i’m sorry, i no longer take requests

[sonnenfuchs]

75+jin plz

— pairing: jin x reader— genre: fluff— wordcount: 536

75. “I was just thinking about you.”

“Erm, babe? What’s your shoe size again?”

Seokjins voice sounds out of the living room where he is perched on the cream colored couch, a laptop sitting on his thighs. Your back is turned towards him as you stand in the kitchen, focus in front of you as you cut up some fresh fruit. “You don’t know? Also, why do you need to know?”

He doesn’t respond right away, a silence lingering in the air that is only disturbed by the noise of your knife meeting the cutting board as you half some strawberries, occasionally popping one in your mouth.

“Not important. Just tell me, please.”

You only send him a quick glance over your shoulder, curious as to what he is up to before you turn back, this time attacking a mango as slice of the sides and start cutting the soft flesh into cubes, throwing them in a big bowl afterwards. “I am not telling you until you say what you are doing.”

You can hear him stand up and trot over, and before you know it, you can feel him behind you, arms wrapped around your waist and chin resting on your shoulder. Out of instinct you take one of the mango cubes and hold it up against his lips. He quickly eats it and presses a kiss onto your cheeks before turning to the side and getting himself a glass of water.

“I’m not doing anything,” Seokjin mumbles. He leans on the counter, standing right next to you, and watches you work, but as you don’t reply right away he steals one of the strawberries and goes back into the living room, curling up on the couch again.

“Then why do you need to know my shoe size?”

“It’s nothing, really,” he responds but you can tell there is some hesitation in his voice. “I was just… thinking about you.”

“About my feet?” You giggle, having finished cutting up all the fruit. You take the bowl along with two toothpicks over to him, plopping down next to him on the couch.

He immediately turns away from you, as if trying to shield the page open on his laptop from you viewing it, closing the window as well, but it’s already too late. You saw the familiar logo of the online shop and the huge section of shoes he was browsing and it makes you giggle. “Are you trying to buy me a new pair of shoes?”

“No…” You fixate him with a stern glance as he shifts his eyes before his lips split into a sheepish grin. “Okay, yes, fine. I wanted to buy you a pair of shoes like the one you were talking about yesterday as a surprise.”

“Then why did you ask for my shoe size? Way to make it obvious.”

He lets out a frustrated whine, puffing out his cheeks. “Well, I didn’t know which size to order!”

“So you ask me? You could have just secretly checked the shoes I own.”

Sending you a wide eyes look, he just stays silent before tugging at his hair and falling forward to hide his face as you shake with laughter. “I am an idiot, aren’t I?”

“You truly are.”

[sonnenfuchs]

hmm well let me think... 22 and yoongi? ^^ p.s. I love you ♥

— pairing: yoongi x reader— genre: fluff— wordcount: 400

22. “It’s not heavy.  I’m stronger than I look.”

Your stance isn’t as straight as it should be, lethargy letting your shoulders drop forward and your back hunch, even as the heavy backpack should technically straighten you out again. In the crook of your elbow hangs a tote bag filled with god-knows-what and your other arm is clutching a couple of textbooks to your chest. There is so much weight on you right now, it’s not just the physical one of your baggage, but also the remainder of the long day you had, too many classes leaving you with a fuzzy head and desire to nap.

So you don’t notice the figure jogging up next to you until he has already stolen your books as well as the bag, letting you let out a noise of compliment. “Stop that. I can carry my stuff myself.”

“Hello to you, too,” Yoongi replies, maneuvering your stuff all over to his left side so his right hand is free to link his fingers with yours, even going so far off pulling your hand up to place a light kiss on top of it. “How was your day?”

“Tiring. Now give me back my stuff.”

“Nope, I’ll be carrying for the rest of the day. You look shitty enough, no need to torture you further with all of this heavy stuff.” He just laughs at your attempted jab to his side, tightening the grip on the books as he looks down on you.

“It’s not heavy,” you mutter, shaking some strand of hair out of your eyes as you narrow them at him. “I am stronger than I look. Are you calling me weak right now?”

His eyes widen in feigned innocence and shock as his tongue peaks out of the corner of his mouth in a playful fashion, making your lips split into a grin of their own. “I would never dare to, miss.”

You snort at his ridiculousness, and he takes it as a sign of your mood having lightened. Starting to swing your linked hands, he hums a song out of tune as he walks you home, your steps in synch.

“You know, you really don’t need to carry my things for me. I’m a big girl, Yoongi.”

“I am very aware, trust me,” he replies as he leans down to place a kiss on your forehead. “Just let me be a good boyfriend for once, okay?”

“Whatever you say.”

[sonnenfuchs]

Maybe nr 16 with jiminnie? :D also good luck on your wips, i'm sure you'll finish them sooner or later <3 *flies you a kiss*

— pairing: jimin x reader— genre: angst-ish? but also fluff?— wordcount: 566— warning: shfsldhd i am sorry, this sucks v much but i tried okay?? also sorry for making it sad sdfhdfhds

16. “It’s okay. I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

The white glowing number silently changes into the next, the seconds ticking by, only to turn into minutes that feel endless to you. With the late hour showing on the display of the digital clock on your bedside table, your heart just feels heavy. You should be sleeping. You should get a good rest. Tomorrow is another day full of school, and work, a full schedule. Go to bed.

But sleep is not a possibility, not with the tears streaming down your cheeks, hot and thick, they do not feel real, but rather they are akin that gooey consistency of water in Studio Ghibli movies. They are drowning you, but they aren’t stopping as your mind goes around in circles, closing in on the same thoughts of failure, disappointment and just not being enough.

You know, there is a easy way to put a stop to this vicious circle, a certain person that can makes all things stop and kiss away the tear drops stuck in your lashes. But it’s three am, and you do not want to bother him this late, he should be asleep as much as you should.

Yet, it’s tempting, his comfort and love much needed. Hesitantly you spin the phone in your hand as the other presses with it’s palm against your eyes. It takes another sob to rattle your body for you to make a decision.

You, 3:14amJimin?

You, 3:14amare you still up?

You, 3:15ami need someone to talk to

You, 3:15ami hope you are sleeping tho

You are aware you are sending more texts than necessary, spamming him in a selfish hope of waking him up in case he is asleep already, and it makes you feel bad, but you cannot help it.

Jimin, 3:16ambaby, what’s wrong???

It’s a relief to see his name pop up on your display, but now there is guilt washing over you. You are making him worry, when really, this is something you should be able to handle by yourself. Unsure how to respond now that you got his attention on you, you keep typing and deleting your words, your thoughts too jumbled up, and it seems like you have hesitated too long, as now the screen is taken up my a picture of his face and his caller ID.

“Y/N, talk to me.” You can make out the worry in his voice, even if he says it in a stern tone.

“I- It’s just-” Trailing off, you take a shaky breath before trying to talk again. “I don’t know, I just feel shit?”

There is a crackling noise in the background, a rustling as if he was moving around before his voice sounds out again, this time concern clear in it and you are aware it’s because he can hear that you have been crying. “I’m coming over.”

“N-No! Don’t! You really don’t need to, I’m fine!”

“It’s okay. I couldn’t sleep anyway.” It’s a lie, that much is clear as there is a roughness in his voice that only appears once he has been shaken out of slumber, and his words are just the slightest bit slurred around the edges. He is also stifling a yawn. “I’ll be there in fifteen, so take a quick shower to calm yourself down and then go to bed, okay? I love you, remember that.”

[sonnenfuchs]

81 with jungkook pls ?

— pairing: jeongguk x reader— genre: fluff— wordcount: 527

81. “Sweet dreams.”

You are still not used to it.

The weight of his arm that rests on your waist, the breath that tickles your nape and the warmth that radiates off his body. It’s still all so foreign, such an alien feeling, but it also calls to you like a place called home. You are aware it is only a question of time before this is something you can no longer fall asleep without - maybe even live without. But right now, it is still all too new.

As if he can sense your inner monologue, his grip tightens on your, pulling your closer until you are flush against his chest and you feel his lips make contact with your shoulder blade as he places a wet butterfly kiss there. “Still awake?”

His voice is nothing more but a murmur, soft and hazy with sleep. It sends the butterflies that live in your stomach into a frenzy as it sounds out so close to your ear. You are very much aware that it is something only you can hear. There is no one else that gets to have his with slumber drunk voice whisper in their ear, there is no one else that gets to feel his body wrapped around theirs. The thought makes your heart skip a beat.

“Mhm, can’t fall asleep.”

You turn around to face him, only to see his lashes flutter over the top of his cheekbones, barely visible in the dim moonlight. His lips are pouted, and slightly parted as he exhales another breath, clearly only on the edge of being awake himself. You cannot help yourself but reach upwards, to stretch your chin forward and put your lips on his for just a split second. Out of reflex the corners of his mouth lifted up, forming a small smile as his arms slipped from your waist for his hand to come to rest on your shoulder blade and pull him closer to you. “Try to sleep, baby.”

He rolled over on his back, taking you with him, his arm never leaving your shoulder so could make sure you are resting on his chest. Only then his hand drops further down to the small of your back, absentmindedly rubbing small circles that draw a sigh from your lips. “Jeongguk?”

“Hm?”

There are a million thoughts on your mind, a million words on your tongue. Sweet nothings that you want to tell him, thankful sentiments that he chose you out of all the people in this world, that he fell in love with you when there are so many that wish to date him. You want to ramble on about how perfect he is in your eyes, how wonderful and hardworking and talented and a thousand adjectives more. But it is not the time, it is not the place, you haven’t been his for long. There will be countless opportunities to declare your feelings, but now, you should focus on the way his skin feels on yours, and the way his breathing syncs with yours as his chest rises and falls under your cheek. So you bite your tongue and hold him close. “Nothing. Sweet dreams.”

[sonnenfuchs]

Could you please do a #32 + jimin angst please!

— pairing: jimin x reader— genre: angst— wordcount: 727

32. “It looks good on you.”

“How about this one?” You giggle, hand gliding over the expensive fabric of the dress, the color a delicate cream with a low cut back, which you are currently fawning over as you take it from the rack and hold it against your body. “Would it look good on me?”

You look so happy, it’s clearly visible in the way glee is glistening in your eyes, as if your huge smile wasn’t obvious enough. You look down again, clearly imagining yourself in the dress, but Jimin simply takes it out of your hand with a noise of disapproval. “Not your color, it makes you look dead.”

Poking out your tongue at him, you just laugh again. It’s one of Jimins favorite sounds in the whole world, but today, it grates on his nerves - mostly because he knows, you are not laughing because of him, you happiness is not caused by him, and if your suspicion comes true, it never will be again. So today, he cannot force that smile to stay on his face and fawn with you like the best friend he is supposed to be. He turns away from you and browses the dresses in front of him. “This would look good on you.”

You step next to him to see what he is looking at, in your flats nearly a whole head smaller than him - the perfect height to rest your head on his shoulder whenever you are tired, but no, that is an image he can no longer dream about, it is not his place to do so. It hasn’t been for a long time, he is not the man that gets to hold your hand, to hold you close at night and to feel your lips on his. So, here he is, helping you choose a dress for your fancy dinner event - the one you are so sure your boyfriend is finally going to propose during.

“Don’t you think it would look nice?” He asks, eyes still on you, rather than the altrosa dress with lace along the front in which he is sure you would look like you stepped right out of a fairytale.

“But it’s piiiink.” You whine, as you pout and shake your head. Jimin has to bite his tongue to keep himself from blurting out how cute you look. “And old fashioned. Donghae would hate it, he doesn’t like stuff like that.”

“Do you have to alter his appearance to his liking?” Jimin scoffs, it’s ridiculous, really. Is he now going to highlight all of your boyfriends bad traits in order to make you see how much better he himself would be for you? Why can’t he control himself?

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course I don’t. I just want to look perfect for him tonight, you know? I want tonight to be perfect, and look beautiful in all the pictures so that when I look back on that night, I get butterflies all over again.”

“How about this one, then?” It’s a cheap tactic, redirecting your attention somewhere else so you do not see the sour look on his face, the clenched jaw and ice in his gaze. But it is working as you immediately let out a muffled scream and run over to the floor length gown, running your hands all over it.

“I need to try this on! Oh my god, Jimin, it is perfect!”

“It looks good on you.” It’s the understatement of the year, because truly, you look nothing short of perfect, the way it hugs your body and glides over the floor, as if it were made just for you. And he hates it, he wants to say how much he hates it, how he does not like it on you simply because you are not wearing it for him, but for another man when he has been by your side all those years, when he has been the one to fall for you so deeply, while you only ever had eyes for someone else. And he hates how you look so good in fancy gowns that he can easily picture you in a wedding dress.

But what he hates the most is how he can only tell you that you look breathtaking while he thinks about the ring that will be adorning your delicate hand the next time he will see you.

[sonnenfuchs]

11 + Namjoon hohoh 💫

— pairing: namjoon x reader— genre: fluff— wordcount: 590

11. “You can have half.”

“Pleeeeeeaaaase?”

Namjoon only sighs at your whining, like he isn’t used to it already. Like he didn’t saw it coming, but in the early morning haze, his mind wasn’t clear enough to think it through. “You could have just gotten your own.”

He doesn’t need to look over at you to know you are pouting, somewhere underneath his huge hoodie that swallows you whole and hides your face. Your sweater clad hands swat at his side lightly as you let out another whine. “I forgot, okay? I was too sleepy.”

“Well, tough luck,” he half laughs, half murmurs as he looks over his shoulder, pulling in the other lane and accelerates, fingers absentmindedly tapping on the steering wheel to the rhythm of the music blaring throughout the car.

“Just a sip?”

“Oh, fuck off.” This time he straight up laughs. It really is your own fault for not getting a coffee, well, technically it’s both of yours, having slightly overslept so that there wasn’t a time for a breakfast before leaving for your road trip. But Namjoon still made a quick stop at the nearest coffee shop, getting himself a large americano, black and bitter enough to wake him up, and while he was kind enough to ask if you wanted anything as well, you only curled up in your seat, leaning against the window and muttered at him to let you sleep in peace.

So now here you are, roughly twenty minutes later, somewhat more awake, craving some caffeine to fully pull you out of your slumber. And his own drink still half full right in front of you in such a taunting way.

“Don’t be mean!”

“If you want a coffee so badly, we can stop at the next gas station and get you one,” he responds, choking down a laugh as he knows your resentment of cheap, stale coffee all too well.

“Yikes.” You crinkle your nose and shake your head in disgust, absolutely offended by his suggestion. “Do you enjoy torturing me like this?”

“I do very much.”

You just huff at him, although there is no bad blood in your interaction, all the teasing is just in good fun. Crossing your arms you lean back in your seat, draping your only sock clad feet on the dashboard as you stare at him. “Fine. No coffee for me then.”

There is a short lull in your conversation in which he concentrates on the traffic, while you look out of the window where the scenery is flying by, lightly humming along to the music. The sun is starting to rise higher on the sky, so you reach back to get your bag, getting out your sunglasses along with Namjoons, knowing he will soon be blinded while driving. You hand them to him without a word and he places them on top of his head.

“Go drink my coffee if you want to. You can have half.” He breaks the silence, quickly glancing over to tug at your ear in a playful way. “I had enough caffeine to not crash this car for now, so go ahead.”

“Thank you!”

You immediately reach forward, grabbing the cup to take a huge sip before regretting it right away as the dark drink as long grown cold and gotten all the more bitter. Your face scrunches up into a grimace as you place the coffee back down, glancing to the side to see Namjoon stifle his laughter. “Did you give it to me only because it has grown cold?”

“…, maybe.”

“Asshole.”

[inktae]

without the stars

◇ pairing: yoongi | reader ◇ genre: angst ◇ word count: 3.896 ◇ warnings: very brief mentions of death ◇ author’s note: I really encourage you guys to listen to this playlist. I wrote this entire story with it on a loop. it is short, but I feel like the songs catch the atmosphere quite perfectly :) 

Careless.

That is the word Namjoon refers to you as — utterly careless, at least for the past six months. It makes you wonder if it is that bad to lose a bit of that inner fear every human carries around, fed by the pure instinct of survival. It was especially ingrained in you, always looking behind your back at night while holding tight onto your phone. Not particularly crippling, but it did bring up an anxiousness that was simply unavoidable.

But you do not look back anymore. It is almost midnight, the streets are lonely and you thrive on the eerie silence as you reach the coast of the city, almost smiling towards the crashing waves as the winds pick up, impulsed by the stinging cold. You burrow inside your jacket, looking around with the help of dim streetlights that struggle to stay alive, and it does not take you too long to spot him.

Keep reading

[sonnenfuchs]

[lthyl-deactivated20200824]

Cold waters

cr.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader / (implied) Namjoon x Reader 

Genre: Merman!Au / Angst / One-shot

Rated T for mentions of death

Word count: 6.4k

Synopsis: Every night, a song crawls from the woods - they say it’s the lullaby of a monstrous creature that has fallen from grace, a beast fiery like fire and ruthless like ice. Yet, his voice is such beautiful one that the cords of your heart quiver with love for each, saccharine note piercing your skin.

And every night, he draws you in a bit more.

Author’s note: Hello my lovelies! This is my second request (Cold waters, warm touches + His beauty could kill you + Merman!Jeon), at first it was supposed to be a fluffy one but, uhm… it accidentally ended up being another angst *sweats*

Anyway, dear anon, thank you for the nice concept, please lemme know if you liked it <3

There’s a legend, whispered among the sunbeams getting lost in the forest at the borders of the village.

There’s legend, one of a terrible, alluring kind, that widens children’s eyes and makes hearts tremble beneath the warnings of worried mothers.

There’s a legend, more like a secret or maybe a dream, deep carved into the memories of your innocent days; one that has your glances wander into the shadows of the woods when you think that nobody is watching, that nobody is judging.

It’s a legend, they say, about a creature doomed to live in the lake at the center of the forest: oh, a ruthless one, with eyes like broken glass and thick blood covering its claws. Murderous are its intents and fury tints its flesh with such poisonous vigour that the water is now no different from the venom running under his skin. 

Keep reading

[sonnenfuchs]

as always, connie is murdering me with her beautiful prose and amazing story telling

[gukyi]

practice makes perfect (or at least, significantly better) | kth

summary: taehyung’s the drummer in a local punk band, and you’re the university’s first chair flute. this is a love story that doesn’t exactly go as planned, but then again, does anything?

{punk band!au}

pairing: taehyung x female reader word count: 7k genre: fluff warnings: alcohol consumption and jazz solos a/n: written for the one and only, the real mvp, the cutest peach who told me not long ago she was desperate for a punk taehyung fic, @jingukz . for u! i am also tagging @seoulscapes bc we’re currently at fic/bias wrecker war. inspired by this photo, which ruined my life to an extent i didn’t even know was possible.

Keep reading

[elfguk]

Non Seviam

and here is chapter one! thank you @sonnenfuchs for editing ily <3 

ūnus

Five years later

There is a strange wistfulness that follows used bookshops, something comforting and familiar about thumbing through an old leather-bound book that’s been read more times than the reader has lived and this wistfulness followed both human and non-human alike for reading was an activity that simply anyone could enjoy - which is perhaps why, Kim Namjoon opened Vellichor, a word meaning “wistfulness that comes with used bookshops”; entirely intentional although many may not realise.

Keep reading

[elfguk]

Non Serviam

Here is my long-term project, Non Serviam! It’s a witch AU, that I’ve been writing for a while and although it’s not based on paganism, or any religion or particular place, it does have God/demon/Hell/Heaven/Latin mentions, however, it’s completely my own rendition and is not intended to offend any pagans or those practising witchcraft.

I hope you enjoy it :)

and with further adieu, here is the prologue

Nihil

Yoongi does not cry at the sight of his fallen best friend, he does not weep like the others in the coven because unlike the rest, he knows how to fix this. Pushing away from the crying witches, Yoongi removes the gloves his mother forces him to wear, pulls at each of his fingers with a gentle pop, cracks each knuckle in turn with a satisfied groan; he glances at his fingers, only nineteen but the necromancer’s hands are already beginning to blacken at the tips showing the signs of his deadly magic and the effect it has on the user. He hears his mother call his name, her voice nothing compared to the voices in his mind, as he drops the gloves to the floor, and hears Jeongguk’s mother release a heart-wrenching sob as she realises what the only necromancer in the coven is about to do. Yoongi knows its worth not seeing his best friend again if he can reunite him with his family and their friends, he has accepted this from the moment they had told him Jeongguk was dead.

When Yoongi finally approaches the open casket, the room goes silent, silent enough for Yoongi to hear the ethereal whispers of Jeongguk’s dead body calling out to him, the whispers clogging his senses and begging him to reanimate, to use his magic and Yoongi doesn’t resist the lure, he lets it pull him in and ignite his senses -  ignite the darkness he holds within.

Yoongi strokes Jeongguk’s fringe away from his face, running his thumb gently over his closed eyes and along his cheekbone and down his jaw, over the injured skin. His skin is bitter cold to the touch, but it barely registers as the necromancer runs as cold as the dead he uses; seeing Jeongguk so cold, unmoving and not feeling the lightning thrum around his body is enough to kick start in the incantations.

Necromancy isn’t necessarily about giving life, it isn’t the power to heal and revive at his fingertips, that was not the nature of the magic. No, it’s the power to temporarily take away death, to use death as a tool and to take it from the victim, storing deaths energy in your own mortal frame causing your own decay, the blackening of your limbs, and the deterioration of one’s health and mind, until you return that stolen death to the body you once took it from.

In other words, this would be the last time Yoongi would ever touch Jeongguk, if they touch after this, the death would return full force to Jeongguk and pull him under once again, and ancient laws of necromancy would prevent the resurrection of him happening ever again. Today is the last time he’ll be able to stand within such close proximity of his best friend but he can accept this new fate just by knowing Jeongguk is alive.

“I’m sorry, Gukkie,” Yoongi murmurs, running his fingers down Jeongguk’s face with feather-light motions, starting from the teens hairline, slowly taking away the death from the adolescent’s body as he murmurs old, forbidden incantations only known to the necromancer of each coven. Yoongi’s hand stops above Jeongguk’s heart, and he slowly raises his hand above it and he can see the darkness that seeks out his fingers, watches wisps of death follow Yoongi’s hand higher and higher until it begins to curl around his own blackening fingers, to seep into veins slowly at first, until he takes a step backwards from the open casket and only then does death slam into body. The impact of raw, natural power forces him to stumble back and collide harshly to the ground as he falls, and the world around him blackens and spirits and demons hover and flicker in the edge of his vision, chastising him for taking what was nature’s way.

The coven can’t see what Yoongi sees, they can’t see the death that leaves Jeongguk’ and enters Yoongi, can’t see the room swimming with demons and spirits they worshipped and spirits of the old. He furiously shakes his head, waiting for the sight to dissipate but such is a necromancers curse, always seeing the dead and otherworldly if you let them in; letting his fringe cover his eyes, the teen rasps out for someone to take him away, his voice deep and scratchy, and he can feel his father’s calloused hands circle around his biceps and pull him from the coffin, he barely registers Jeongguk’s mother kissing his cheek and muttering a thousand ‘thank you’s’ as she rushes to her son, and the last thing Yoongi sees as his father drags him away, between the demons and spirits taunting his vision is the slow steady rise of Jeongguk’s chest and a gentle flutter of his eyes.

[sonnenfuchs]

pairing: yoongi x reader genre: fluffy smut wordcount: 1.2k a/n:  min yoongi is incredible soft please don’t ever forget that aka i challenged myself to write one last drabble before this year ends and it turned into fluffy yoongi smut. please love that boy.

Your movements are confined with the blanket tangled around your body and a pair of wiry arms holding you in place, but it does not matter. Not when Yoongis lips feel like honey against yours despite their rough and chapped edges, and his soft touch is drawing you in so well. It’s too hot and tight but you cannot bring yourself to care when he is all you want to feel.

Bony hands move from your hip and wander under your shirt, gracing your skin, lightly like he is scared that you will shatter under his touch if he doesn’t handle you with utmost care. He is moving further and further up until your shirt – borrowed from him and adorably big on you – is bunched around your chest, and you move up your arms for him to discard it. He struggles a bit, it’s hard to move with your close vicinity but he makes it work, and you fascinatedly watch him lazily trail his eyes over your bare chest, the same worship and love laced into the stare like the very first time he saw you bare in front of him.

He looks ethereal like this, the black hair that falls in to his eyes in stark contrast to his pale skin glowing in the light of the credits rolling over the laptop screen (sometime during the movie the sun had set, leaving it the only light source and dipping the room in an enchanting gleam.) And his charcoal eyes, lined with dark, curled lashes that accentuate the triangular shape of them, find yours.

Keep reading

[sonnenfuchs]

remember this thing i wrote exactly a year ago ??? i can’t believe it already has been a year

[gukyi]

start anew | ksj

summary: it’s been five years since you left your hometown, vowing never to return, but a simple invitation to a christmas party and a yearning to know whether or not you’re truly over the heartbreak you left behind has you wondering if, maybe, the christmas spirit and promise of a new beginning can change your mind.

{christmas!au, exes!au}

pairing: kim seokjin x female reader word count: 11k genre: soft angst and fluff (everything is just melancholy, alright?) warnings: alcohol consumption a/n: for @sonnenfuchs, from your secret santa!! here it is luce, i tried to make it as not angsty as possible but it looks like i didn’t try hard enough. this does have a happy ending though, if that’s any consolation!! merry (late) christmas and happy new year!! i wish u and the rest of the gc all the best ♡

Keep reading

[sonnenfuchs]

guyi, queen of writing, goddess of shattering my heart !!!! GOD DAMN IT THIS WAS GOOD !!!! i actually have no words to describe how i feel but I AM HURTING IN THE BEST KIND OF WAY

[sonnenfuchs]

⟶ come together | a secret santa story | jjg

pairing: jeongguk x kinga ( @lily-blue ) genre: fluff wordcount: 5.7k a/n: inspired by this. written to the grand budapest hotel ost. can you tell that i like wes anderson?

↳ jeongguk travels home for the holidays. on the train he encounters a peculiar girl.

Why. That is the thing he asks himself. Just, why? Why did he think it would be a good idea to travel home the day before Christmas when his journey takes up the better part of a whole day, and rather than taking the night train to save himself the hassle of early mornings, he decided having pre Christmas drinks with his friends - for the third time - had priority. This, of course, meant just one drink too many, and in his gullible intoxicated state he convinced himself it was worth it, that the way home tomorrow won’t be too bad.

Even, that the journey would be peaceful, maybe relaxing as he could nap on the long rides or finally complete his fifth replay of Ocarina of Time that he has been delayed by exam stress and has been the started the second he left his last lecture of the year. The second he has to squeeze himself in the cable car of the city tram that is overflowing with bodies and luggage, and a throbbing hangover pounding away on the inside of his skull, he knows he miscalculated. But even trapped in between an old lady with grey hair that looks an awful lot like a birds nest and a striped suit so stiff he is sure it would be able to stand even without the strict looking man inside of it, he keeps clinging to the glimmer of hope that at least once he has made it onto his train he can beat Ganondorfs ugly mug.

But for now, not even moving is an option as he might accidentally knock someone over with his gigantic backpack that he has crammed all too many things in, although mostly it's his dirty laundry that he will coerce his mother into washing for him. Judging by the way the crazy grandma next to him keeps glaring, she probably has the same worry. So Jeongguk stays still, gaze cast out of the window. There’s snow falling, piling on the ground and rooftops, while on the streets it melts right away into dirt and mixes with the rocksalt on the floor. But it is enough to cast a white haze over everything, it blurs the light of the decorations hanging over shops and stretching across the streets from roof to roof. They twinkle and shimmer, and Jeongguk gets so hypnotized in their beauty as the tram rushes by, he nearly misses his stop. But when the jingle sounds throughout the cable car and the door opens, he is glad to leave the sticky, used up air behind and all the annoyed stares he gets as he exits the last second.

He sprints up the stairs and over the vast space in front of the train station, only stopping shorty to check the arrival and departure table, before it’s back to running, the bag on his back jumping up and down with each large leap he takes as he hurries to catch his train. Maybe he should have taken the earlier tram. But hey, at least it got him ten more minutes of sleep. Not that it matters, it’s not even nine am and it is roughly four hours too early for him to even be awake.

The second the doors close behind him, the platform starts rolling by, and with heaving lungs, he prides himself on his strong, fast legs and unnatural luck. The train is roughly as full as the tram he just left, but he manages to find a seat, and this time it’s without strange businessmen and mean ladies, but the baby across from him that starts crying and screaming the second he smiles at it, so it’s not much of an improvement. Ignoring the mothers dirty look, for she is now forced to care for her wailing infant, he just plugs in his earphones and opens up a music app, but it does little to dull the piercing screams that still penetrate his ears.

He’s glad that this is another short ride, already hoping off again roughly twenty minutes later, and snaking his way through the busy crowd to catch his last train. A smaller, older one, and a lot dingier than the modern highspeed one he just exited, but he doesn’t mind it. Not when he finds it to be full of separate compartments of six, and most of them fairly empty. But then again, it is the first station of the ride and he expects it to fill up along the way.

Walking along the narrow hallway, he settles on one further in the back, tugging the screen door open. It creaks horribly under the strain of being moved but he doesn’t pay it any attention. Rather, he drops his ridiculously sized rucksack on one of the benchlike seats, the camouflage pattern clashing horrible with the orangish brown color scheme of the seat covers, his body taking place between it and the large window where white light is streaming in. He stretches out his limbs, tilting his neck on each side, satisfied when a loud crack sounds out and then finally takes off his dark duffle coat. The beanie that he had stuffed haphazardly over his bed head this morning stays on. (He looks like a slob all too often but there is something about his hair looking like an absolute mess in public that he cannot stand, yet, he also can’t bring himself to sort it out.) With him and his things occupying half of the seats, he makes himself as comfortable as possible. After all he has to spend the next eight hours here.

Starting to roll, the grey cement of the train station outside starts to roll by and gets replaced by a blur of dark green and icy white as it passes through woods, rattling along the rails and throughout the country. Jeongguk just plugs in his headphones back in, having taken them out as he made his way through the tightly packed crowd to keep himself focused, presses play and silently hums along to the Tori Kelly song and later on Justin Bieber. As the train halts at more and more stations, he sees people pass by his compartment, mothers with small children, old married couples, brothers, friends, weird looking women with too thick books in their hand, men with faces that look like they haven’t smiled in years. Every kind of person he finds walking by, looking for an empty spot, but no one seems to dare sitting down next to him. Does he look that intimidating? His friends tease him over his baby face but maybe his bulging biceps does the trick; he smirks with pride.

Or maybe it is just the way he has spread himself out, his coat thrown across onto the seat opposite of him, his bag alone taking up two as well, and his pair of timberlands tumbling across the floor with laces still tied as his only sock clad feet are propped up with wiggling toes. A moody-looking barely-not-a-teenager-anymore apparently is good enough to let people shy away, and he is not complaining. The longer he is unbothered, the better.

Eventually, however, the compartment door creaks as someone slides it open, and he is met with a girl leaning in the doorway. She has a petite frame, he can tell, even if hidden under a burgundy jacket and a huge scarf, and matching facial features. Dark but warm colored hair curls around her chin and falls on her shoulders, and she hesitantly brushes it out of her face. Overall, the scene feels very Harry Potter-esque to him, sitting in this old train travelling across the country and girl barging into his compartment like the first time the guys meet Hermione. Except he is on his own and not a famous wizard, and the girl isn’t asking if anyone has seen someone's lost toad.

“Is this place free?” She points somewhere to where his feet are stretched out on with a coy smile, her voice small but friendly. She’s cute, Jeongguk thinks. He nods, smiling as well, before realizing the mess he made and quickly scrambles to collect his stuff and drop his feet to the floor. “Here you go, sorry.”

“Thank you.” He is faced with her smile once more, and he realizes, he likes it. She stows away a carry-on bag in the overhead compartment, and takes off her jacket and scarf to place it next to it. While her back is towards him, he cannot help but check her out, the way her shirt just rides the slightest bit up as she has to stand on tiptoes to reach the storage, the way her blue jeans hug her ass and thighs, down to her dirty sneakers. It’s obvious he stares and maybe that is why there is the slightest blush in her cheeks as she faces him again. She doesn’t look him in the eyes and he only coughs awkwardly; neither say a word.

He isn’t sure if he should talk to her or not, he kind of wants to, but then again, talking to strangers on public transport is always perceived as weird. But then she pulls out some headphones and turns her attention to her phone, and the decision is taken from him. He restarts his own music and leans his head against the cool window, and before he knows it, the fact that he has been awake since six something am paired together with the knowledge that he doesn’t have to leave his seat for at least another couple hours has caught up to him and he has fallen into a deep slumber.

He lunges awake, body startling upwards and head snapping to the side as a sharp noise sounds through his ears into his unconscious state, like the tip of a needle that lets the bubble that is his dream burst with a rush of adrenaline. His body tenses up, muscle memory doing its job as the last remainder of the martial arts training he once received, and all alarms are ringing in his head. His brows are furrowed as he glares to find the source of the disturbance, but the only thing his eyes land on, is the girl from earlier, standing next to the screen door she just closed, a paper cup with steam evading from it in hand. It is clear she just went to grab some hot drink - coffee by the bitter smell of it - and has startled him awake in the process.

With a contrite look on her face she murmurs a softly spoken apology, a sort of uncomfortableness in her voice that comes with awkward interactions and strangers, and in this moment he hates this old, run down train with it’s loud noises and screeching doors. He sighs, a hand coming up to soothe the ache in his neck that comes with falling asleep while straining your neck to lean against a rattling window, and he assures her it’s alright.

Fishing out his phone from where it has slipped out of his hand in between seats, he checks the time and to his dismay he barely has been asleep for half an hour. It warrants another sigh, and maybe the girl has seen his reaction or maybe even read his thoughts as he has been damning this long ass journey in his head, but she clears her throat and speaks up once more. “There was an announcement earlier that you missed. We’re gonna arrive with like an hour delay because of the weather.”

“Shit, really?” He asks with a groan, not excited at all to come home even later, not that he has another connection to catch, or that he told his family what time he is actually arriving. (Actually, his mother is already pressed enough with him never telling her anything at all, he never even guaranteed her that he is coming home for the holidays. If he is lucky, she won’t beat his ass over it and rather call his appearance a Christmas miracle.)

“Yeah, but hey, at least we’re gonna have a white Christmas, huh?” She jokes and he has to admit, he loves the light tone that is carried in her sweet voice and it draws a small laugh out of him. But it also makes him look out of the window for the first time he woke up and yeah, it’s going to be a white Christmas indeed.

Where there have been light, powdery flocks dancing throughout the air earlier on, just barely enough for it to leave a trace of white on the streets, and single flakes getting caught and glistening in peoples hair and scarves, there is now a blur of white. It seems more like rain in the way it falls all too heavy, almost nearly sludge like. Making out anything through it is impossible and the background is filled with howling noises as the wind whips over treetops outside.

“How is the train even still going in this storm?” He mumbles just a little terrified but mostly amazed. And maybe, he should not have said that, because suddenly there is a too loud creak along with some other noises he never wants to hear again while being inside a fast moving cage of metal and the train comes to a screeching halt in the middle of nowhere.

“I think, you might just have jinxed it,” the girl only has to add, and while it is a lighthearted jab, the humour is missing in her voice as she fidgets with a strand of her hair. There is a worried look on her face that is probably mirrored on his own, and as much as he wants to comfort her, he does not know how.

“Dear ladies and gentlemen, we regret to inform you that as a result of the weather conditions the chosen route has been blocked and we are facing technical problems. As of now, our only option is to wait and see. We cannot yet say how long this stop will last, but we will update you as soon as we know. We sincerely apologize for this inconvenience.”

They only look into each others eyes as the announcements sounds out through crackling speakers, and once it ends and the realisation of the words sinks in, they stay silent for a while longer. The seconds pass by, turning into a neverending minute, until she finally breaks the silence.

“I guess we should introduce ourselves since we’ll be stuck together for what seems like quite a while,” she grins, there is a hint of mischief in her smile and Jeongguk has to admit it fits her well. “I’m Kinga.”

“Jeongguk.”

“Nice to meet you, Jeongguk.” The way his name rolls of her tongue, it sounds enticing, a sound he could get used to, and it’s incredible how fast she has wrapped him around her little finger. (And maybe, just maybe, he is imagining the breathy sound she puts in the last syllable, but it lets his thoughts take three steps at once and now he cannot help but wonder what his name would sound like moaned out of her mouth. He still is, and always will be a horny teenage boy deep down.) “So, going home for the holidays as well?”

She starts a conversation, littered with teasing jokes and at times dripping with sarcasm, and somehow she manages to break him out of his shell. The longer they keep talking the brighter she becomes as all unfamiliarity is melting away, her personality bubbly and her laugh loud. They get along perfectly, and she reminds him just a little bit of the lively energies that his best friends embody. He quickly realizes she just is one of those personalities, those that match - or rather compliment - his own, that bring out his own silliness through his introverted tendencies.

He learns a lot about her. A uni student the same age as him, a media major and aspiring screenwriter from the same town that he is, and he wonders why he has never met her before. She loves to dance, can never sit still and maybe that’s because of the constant sugar high she is on, her sweet tooth even making an appearance in her daily caffeine intake as she sweetens her coffee to a degree no one else could possibly swallow it. She is loud and unapologetic about it, not afraid to be silly and embarrass herself or those around her, and while looking dainty with her tiny frame, she is anything but fragile. She simply is a delight to be around.

He tells her about him too, about his interest in photography and cinematography, joking how they would work well together in the future, about how he loves to work out and hates to lose, his obsession with Overwatch and video games in general, his dumb friends and how his family is probably going to either kill or disown him for being late. Overall, they get along all to easily, it’s nearly scary just how nice it is to talk to her.

They don’t realize how fast time is passing, it is only when Jeongguk’s phone is starting to ring that they are torn out of the bubble they have created. A spell is broken with the annoying interruption, and he completely forgot how embarrassing his ringtone is until she has to stifle her giggles. (To his defense, it is not his own choice of ringtone. Taehyung, the pesky brat of his best friend, set the song to Caramelldansen a long time ago, and Jeongguk was just simply too lazy to change it back. He usually has his phone on silent, anyway.) But now here he is, scrambling to pick up just to let the embarrassment end, although when he sees that it’s his mother calling, he has to weigh his options. In the end, he decides to be the loyal, good son he is and pick up.

She does not sound very happy with him, but her annoyance quickly turns to worry as he explains his current situation. He soothes her concerns and promises to keep her updated as well as to call her once he finally reaches the station. Once he hangs up, Kinga just raises her eyebrow at him.

“Apparently, I will live another day. Being stuck in a train activates motherly instincts. I am getting picked up now, no matter what time we arrive,” His words cause him to look outside, realizing the sun has already gone down, and he is only staring into the pitch black. “Which seems like it’s going to be hella late. But then again, I literally have no idea how late it is, the winter sun is too confusing.”

This makes her laugh, and he finds himself chuckling along. “It’s 7 pm, by the way,”

“Already?”

She nods with a grin, but it doesn’t quite seem to reach her eyes. Gazing out of the window she seems mull over some thought, and he wonders what is on her mind. Mostly, however, he curses the season for letting the sun disappear so early, and letting everything seem a lot more gloomy. Especially as with the darkness settling over the world, the temperature drops along with it. It shouldn’t be that noticeable inside, but there is something about the missing light that immediately makes it feel like the degrees have dropped down. And just sitting without any other movement does not help at all. So, it does not come as a surprise that Jeongguk finds himself glad that he is something like a human furnace, always burning up and finding himself sweating even in the midst of winter. But Kinga on the other hand has wrapped her arms around herself, tightening her thin sweatshirt around her. Of course Jeongguk notices, but there is a debate in his head. Would it be too much to offer her his own jacket? They just met after all, but then again, he is a gentleman at heart, and when he finds her shuddering just the slightest bit, he shrugs off his comfy, cotton jacket and throws it at her.

She tries to protest but he insists, explaining how his blood is probably molten lava that keeps him warm and toasty all year round, and hey, he is still wearing long sleeves so it’s fine, and the second she puts on his jacket, cozy and still carrying his body heat that seeped inside the woven strings, she drops all protests and wraps the fabric around her tightly. It dwarfs her, the shoulders way off and the sleeves going past her fingertips, the overall thing bulky on her small frame, but god, it would be a lie to say that she didn’t look absolutely adorable. But there is a slight shift in her expression, a dimming light in her eyes and her smile having a melancholic twist to it. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Hm? Oh, sure,” It still feels off, even if her smile is back to normal now. She does not look in his eyes, and it seems like she has retracted deep into her thoughts.

“No, tell me what’s up. I promise I am a good listener.” His position shift into a more attentive one. From where he was lounging in his seat, he sits up, feet firmly placed on the ground, elbows on his knees and fingers interlaced, he leans forward towards her. “Please?”

“It’s nothing serious, don’t worry. It’s just that… I don’t know, it’s been a while?” She trails off, looking at her hands that are covered by the way too long sleeves. There is a moment of silence where her teeth find purchase in her bottom lip before she looks up to him again. “I’ve just been single for way too long, I don’t know how to handle cute gestures like this.”

She flaps her hands around, over gesticulating, and he can tell she is trying to play it off, that there is something else she won’t tell. But then again, her words make his ears tints a deep red as he gets flustered. “Yeah, I know what you mean with the whole being single for too long thing.”

There is a short silence before he speaks again, he just has to know. “What else is wrong, though? And don’t lie. I do, however, understand if you don’t wanna tell me aka the guy you literally just met.”

It draws another smile out of her and he is glad that at least he managed to do that.

“Actually, it’s just… I am worried that we will be stuck here a lot longer and that I won’t get home on time. You see, we celebrate today and I’d rather spend Christmas eve with my family than some random guy - no offence though, you are lovely.”

“No offence taken. And hey, I am sure we will make it back home in time, okay? Getting people home in time for Christmas has got to be their priority!” He wants to comfort her, guarantee her she will be with her family in time, that everything is going to work out, but really he can’t. There is no guarantee, and she is aware of it. So all he can really do it play the optimistic fool and keep her from overthinking it. “Don’t sweat it.”

“Yeah, I know. And I mean, there really isn’t anything I can do about it, anyway. It’s just… a weird thought. Missing Christmas.” There it is again, that smile he has started to resent. “It would be the first time that I am not celebrating with them.”

“I get that. I really do.” He wants to say more, but the words get stuck in his throat as the train comes to life, the slight vibration indication that the engine has started back up and soon enough, they are starting to move, picking up speed along the way.

“Dear ladies and gentlemen, we are happy to announce you that we can continue on our journey. However, we have to inform you that we have been redirected to a different route and will be late an additional five hours. Our new arrival times is estimated at ten thirty pm. We are aware this might interfere with your holiday plans and we sincerely apologize for this.”

“Hey, hear that? Good news!” Jeongguk breaks into a grin at the announcement, because not only does it mean that Kinga will make it home, although yes, admittedly very late, it also means his own worries have been mostly dispersed. Because, while honestly, being stuck with someone like her is anything but a tragedy, there still was a certain sense of dread and anxiety bubbling deep in his stomach that has been certainly eased now. Although it will only fully disappear once they roll into his towns trainstation and he can be 100% certain that he does not have to be evacuated in some strange wood in the middle of a blizzard and possibly freeze to death. Kinga, however, does not look quite as reassured as himself. “Okay, you do not look happy. What’s wrong?”

“Ah, no, it’s fine,” she sighs, her eyebrows furrowing and her fingers tug at the hem of her sleeves. A nervous habit, he notices, always having to fiddle with something to keep her fingers occupied. “It’s just that the last bus leaves around ten, and I don’t think anyone in my family would be able to pick me up. Which means I’ll kinda be stranded at the station for the night.”

“Well, I am getting picked up, I am sure we can give you a ride!”

She only shakes his head at him in dismay, the coy smile that she wore when he first laid eyes on her back on her face. “No, it’s fine. I live pretty far out, it would be too much of a bother. I’ll just try to haul a taxi and hope it won’t be too expensive.”

He tries to reassure her, tell her that it’s fine, neither him nor his mother would mind but she does not let him talk. She simply shushes him and gets up on her feet, declaring she needs another coffee and asking if he wants anything as well. Denying the offer, she shrugs and leaves without another word. Once she comes back, she starts chattering away again, about this and that, shows him silly photographs of her and asks him to tell her some story. They talk about everything except how she will get home. And she is good enough at hiding behind her words, that he forgets about it as well. He is fully immersed in their current conversation.

It is not until the stations the train stops at become more and more familiar, and he texts his mom about arriving soon, that he realizes how fast time has gone by. The couple of hours he has spend in this train have felt like nothing at all, and he cannot believe he is nearly home already. Being this close, he can feel the tug at his heart that misses his town, his house, his room and mostly his family. It’s been a while, and just the prospect of it all let’s his face split into a grin.

“Excited?” Kinga teases, a small smile playing on her lips as well as she watches his gleeful expression. “You are grinning like that one fat kid as it stepped into Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory.”

“‘s good to be home, is all,” he retorts, the smile never shrinking as he starts to make out the faint silhouette of his hometown and soon enough, they are pulling into the station. Both scramble up to wrap themselves into coats and scarves and gather all their baggage.

Stepping outside is like stepping into another world. A blanket of snow has laid itself over every surface, undisturbed and untouched, like a spell of silence. There is a sharp sting in the air, the one that comes with the freezing cold of the winter but feels so clean and exciting, the late hour just seems to double the effect. Leaving crunching footprints behind, the two of them make their way from the platform to the main entrance, sheltering themselves close towards the walls as to escape the icy breeze that is still blowing through the streets, but at least the snowfall has gone back to just the occasional sprinkle floating in the air. And so they stand there waiting, for something, anything at all. Maybe for his mother to arrive, maybe for her to bid him goodbye, maybe for a confession that neither wants to leave.

“Can I get- I mean, should we swap numbers, maybe? Stay in touch?” He brings himself to ask and by the way her face lights up, it seems like just the question she has hoped to hear, eagerly nodding and phone already out to hand it over to him so he can add his details. Their hands brush as he takes it, and he convinces himself the red in her cheeks is only caused by the cold, nothing else.

“So, erm, it was really nice meeting you. I had fun.” He mumbles, face scrunching up and his hand flying up to play with the baby hairs on his nape, his own personal nervous habit. The street lights and fairy lights decorating the small plaza shine their dim light, making her face glow and the individual lights reflect in her eyes like a miniature version of the night sky above them, and it is oh so incredibly hard to look away when she looks this lovely. But he is aware that he has been holding her gaze for way too long now, and he is sure it is starting to get creepy, yet she doesn’t look away either.

“I had a lot of fun, too!” She looks up at him, biting her lip and really, he cannot help himself but lean in. She simply is too enticing. Closing her eyes, she waits for their lips to meet, only to be interrupted by the harsh sound of a car honking and headlights turning up and blinding the two of them so they have to shield their eyes. The car honks again, and Jeongguk knows it’s his mother.

He turns around without saying a word, pulling open the passenger's seat door. “Hi mom, nice to see you. Can I ask you a huge favor? You see, this girl over here is stranded and I thought we could maybe bring her home so she doesn’t miss Christmas because that would totally suck. I promise she is nice and not a delinquent that sells drugs or something.”

His mother is taken aback, that much is clear, but then she is stifling her laughter and agrees all too easily. “Sure, darling.”

Grinning he runs back over to Kinga, grabbing her wrist and pulling her along as she resists, assuring him again and again that she will make it home on her own. But this time he doesn’t have to interfere, because his mother does the job for him. With a stern voice and an iron gaze she insists to bring her home, and it’s scary enough that Kinga complies and thanks her with a small voice.

The car ride is silent other than Kinga giving directions, but it isn’t uncomfortable in the slightest. It doesn’t take too long to get to her neighbourhood, she definitely lied about how far it was out, and pulling up in her driveway she profusely thanks his mother who just waves her hand at her, letting it slide. Turning to Jeongguk, she smiles at him once again and stretches out her hand to shake his. “Thank you for today.”

And with those words she is gone, stepping outside the window and running up to her porch, only turning around quickly to wave him goodbye before stepping inside. He is still looking in the direction she disappeared to as they turn around the corner to drive home themselves. “Who was she?”

“Just someone I met on the train today.”

“She seems lovely. And she’s pretty. Will we meet her again? You should invite her over for dinner! Don’t you think that would be nice? You should have introduced us properly.” His mother immediately starts to fuss, and he knows in her head she is already picturing him and Kinga on their wedding day. He can only groan and hide the red tint of his ears.

“Mom! We just met today, can you slow it down?”

She only looks at him with a knowing smile. “I’m just saying, you should keep her around.”

The smell of food is lingering heavy in the air, huge amounts on even bigger plates in the middle of the table as everyone helps themselves in copious amounts with cheerful chatter sounding over the christmas carols silently playing in the background. The lights on the tree in the corner are shining brightly, sparkling and charming as they reflect in the red and gold baubles hanging next to them. A fireplace is creating a cozy and inviting atmosphere.

“Anyone want some more mashed potatoes? Kinga, you?” The deep voice of Jeongguks father asks as he holds up the plate, ready to pass it along. She shakes her head but Jeongguk’s brother pipes up and asks for it instead.

“No, thank you. I don’t even think I can finish what's on my plate right now,” she huffs, loading up another fork in an attempt to empty her plate. Jeongguk next to her only teases about how weak that is, it’s only her third plate after all. She retorts by poking her tongue out at him, to which he lightly flicks her forehead.

“Manners, please.” Jeongguk’s mother sounds out, but it is not a real scolding as she lovingly smiles at the pair. After all she adores the two of them, the way they interact, ever since she first saw them together. “Ah, I can’t believe it’s already been a year since I first met you, Kinga.”

“Mom, we are eating, please get sentimental later,” Jeongguk taunts her with a huge smile but soon enough is smiling at his girlfriend, leaning in to kiss her on the forehead. “It’s been a great year, though.”

Kinga only smiles. “I agree.”

[floralseokjin]

—off limits | 08—final (m)

pairing— kim seokjin x reader genre/warnings— drama, light angst, mentions of sex, romance & fluff :’) (and me crying because my baby is over) words— 8,330

:: summary— you’ve been lusting after your brother’s best friend for a while now, ever since you met him at a house party, flirting it up a storm as you failed to realise who the other was. That was months ago now and things are still awkward, but you can’t ignore the sexual tension that’s simmers between the two of you…and it keeps getting worse…

author’s note: it’s actually over! I can’t believe it. This has probably been my favourite series to write and I’m going to be so lost without it. Thank you for all the support and lovely messages along the way. It’s been amazing. See you on the other side!

» 01 :: 02 :: 03 :: 04 :: 05 :: 06 :: 07 :: 08 ✓

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