Summary: New term, new people. Transferring from Busan University to Seoul your second year of majoring in law, new challenges pop up; with an addition to your already hard courses, people add to your daily list of concerns.
Warnings: Swearwords, enemies to lovers, a character is lesbian, slight mentions and jokes about lesbianism, witty humour, dark humour, nsfw jokes here and there, hints of sexual acts (non-descriptive, will say it is not smut), literally ot5 x oc tbh
Beomgyu x reader/oc (2nd POV, but fixed personality and some physical traits of Y/n)
these are parts that are either published or queued <3 i have 2 posts per day (updates/written piece+ random personal ones+reviews) that are published all day around. <3
intros
teaser
kim’s diner
yonjin
secret accounts
uncomfortable
lmao people nowadays smh
taglist (open):
This is a work of @shinyun and is not to be copied, translated or stolen. All credits go to the rightful owner and the characters of this story are completely fictional, they do not reflect any of the acts of real individuals.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Arranged by obiwrites
Summary:
If you thought entering an arranged marriage with the person you love would be a dream, you were in for a rude awakening. Jung Hoseok was far from the doting husband you’d dreamed of and most of it could be chalked up to the fact that he was in love with his best friend. And you are without a shadow of a doubt, not her.
But what happens when Hoseok starts to realize he doesn’t want you to be her? That there might be more than meets the eye with you?
Words: 337k
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This fic is available only on ao3 (you have to have an account to read this one). Author doesn't post their stories on Tumblr in any form. I'm posting this to have it in my library :)
disclaimer: i do not own the gif, please let me know if it belongs to you, so i can give proper credit
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Your first stop after you wrapped up at work – and didn’t kill anyone in the process! – was Mark’s bar. You had a feeling Jaebum wouldn’t be there – and he wasn’t – but you were hopeful to, at least, learn a little more about which friend he was staying with. You hoped it wouldn’t be Jackson – you didn’t have anything against him but, after having run into him when you were with Jiho, you still felt embarrassed and, honestly, ashamed – but, after Mark poured you a drink and told you that he hadn’t seen Jaebum in a while, you realized Jackson was going to be exactly the person you’d have to contact next.
“I fucked up,” you told Mark, two shots in. “I really, really did.”
Judging from the sympathetic look on his face, he seemed to understand what you were getting at. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“I do,” you said, recalling the last time you’ve gone to Mark to talk about what was bothering you when you should have really gone to Jaebum. “But not to you. No offense.”
“None taken,” Mark replied and, echoing your thoughts, added, “it’s Jaebum you should be talking to anyway.”
You merely nodded, lowering your head afterwards. “Yeah. I’m working on that. He’s not exactly making it easy for me to contact him right now – which is fine. I deserve that. A-and, at this point, it doesn’t even matter if he’s going to forgive me. Maybe I don’t even deserve that—”
“No, hey, d-don’t say it like that,” Mark cut you off, albeit reluctantly. He wasn’t going to pick sides—that was far too childish—but he had to admit, his judgment was somewhat clouded by his decade-long friendship with Jaebum. “You hurt him by not telling him about this but, aside from that, you didn’t actually do anything wrong. I think this is something that talking can solve.”
You didn’t reciprocate Mark’s positive attitude. But, thinking about this objectively, you figured that if you’d have been less upset with yourself right this moment, you would have probably agreed with Mark. There was nothing inherently wrong with wanting to establish your career the way you did – publicity was a key element – and yet you’d felt uneasy about Jiho from the very beginning, so nothing could have justified your reasons for leaving Jaebum in the dark about this part of your life.
“Well, I just want to talk to him so he’d stop overthinking this. If he doesn’t forgive me, that’s fine. He just needs to know what really happened,” you said, toying with the edge of your shot glass, the vodka inside of it looking remarkably dull. Not even alcohol could have pumped the much-needed adrenaline into your veins right now. “I didn’t keep quiet about the whole ordeal to hurt him. I kept quiet because I’m stupid and I should be—”
“Okay, listen, this is a bar, so I get my fair share of customers who try to drown out their self-pity in drinks,” Mark interrupted, taking the shot glass from you. “And, usually, I don’t interfere but you’re a friend, so I’m going to have to cut your supply short.”
“Mark—”
“No, this is it. No more vodka. No more wine,” he replied, his voice almost terrifyingly strict. “Take a deep breath, get up, and go do what you came here to do.”
You sighed, spinning around on the barstool and then climbing off of it. You leaned against the bar – a miserable expression on your face – ready to stand up, but not quite ready to leave to look for Jaebum just yet, even though Mark was right. You had come to his bar to find a way to boost your courage and find a way to contact Jaebum – you shouldn’t have deviated from the plan, no matter how appealing the thought of drinking into oblivion seemed.
“I just—God, I never should have let this get this far,” you mumbled despite yourself and then, after seeing the pity in Mark’s eyes – because he didn’t have what else to say – clenched your hands into fists. “But you’re right, yeah. Of course, you are. I fucked up and I need to fix this—do you… uh, is there any other way for me to get in touch with Jaebum? He’s ignoring my calls and texts.”
“Of course he is,” Mark said. “I’d say to just wait it out but it looks like you’ve waited enough. And you probably have a point – the more space you give him, the deeper this will get into his head.”
“I don’t want it to,” your face was in your hands. “He doesn’t deserve this. He didn’t do anything wrong to be suffering. That’s why I need to talk to him but I—shit, I don’t know how to reach him.”
“Explaining and letting him decide sounds like a good, mature decision. That’s what he deserves,” Mark decided. Hearing his tone take a turn for the happier – he obviously supported your plan – provided you with the much-needed courage. “I-I guess I could call him to see where he is.”
You didn’t think it was fair to ask him to do this and yet, since Jaebum wasn’t staying with Mark, you knew you’d have to ask someone to help you find him so you nodded gently and lifted your eyes to his.
“Could you, please?” you asked. “Just find out where he is, don’t even mention me. I’ll—I will do the rest myself.”
Mark nodded in response and leaned down to pick his phone up from underneath the bartop. He didn’t appear hesitant as he dialed the phone number and you were grateful for that. Perhaps enlisting the help of Jaebum’s friends and, thus—to put it aggressively—getting his friends to plot against him, wasn’t the fairest way to solve this, but, at this point, the lines between what was fair and what wasn’t had blurred so much, you couldn’t even see them anymore. You were willing to take any sort of measures to get to talk to him.
“Hey,” Mark said into the phone after a few seconds, and, even though you couldn’t actually hear Jaebum’s voice over the noise of the bar, his presence was suddenly so much closer and you felt your stomach clench in anticipation. “What’s up?”
You weren’t sure what Jaebum replied with but, judging from Mark’s grimace, it wasn’t something pleasant.
“No, I’m fine, yeah,” Mark said. “I just called because I picked up a few extra shifts and I thought I could do with a familiar face or two in the crowd, you know what I mean? You busy this—oh, with Jackson? Are you, uh—oh. Do you—okay, you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. Well, call me if—hmm, yeah. Okay. Bye.”
The conversation didn’t seem particularly enjoyable and even Mark himself seemed surprised by how short it was.
“Yeah, he’s not in a very good mood,” he told you then, putting his phone back. “But I don’t think it’s because of you. Apparently, he’s with Jackson and the creative process isn’t going well. I’m assuming he’s writing—”
“—a song, yeah,” you closed your eyes for a long moment, resisting the sudden urge to slam your forehead against the bartop and stay face-down in this bar until… well, for as long as Mark would let you. “He might not be struggling because of me but I’m still part of why he’s struggling. I have to—that’s not good. I need to see him. You said he’s with Jackson?”
“Yeah, he said he’s at the studio,” Mark replied. “He’s probably staying at his loft, too.”
“I’m not really sure how I feel about getting the cops called on me if I show up there unannounced,” you bit your lip, your mind swarming with various plans. “Maybe I should try calling Jackson first to see how he feels about helping me.”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t like to have you arrested, either,” Mark said. “Calling seems smart.”
You nodded, your hands already shaking just from the thought of having to talk to Jackson again. A part of you already knew you would have to do that even before Mark found out about Jaebum’s whereabouts but you still didn’t feel any more prepared for it.
“Thank you,” you said to Mark then. “For everything. I know Jaebum is your friend and you should despise me by default but—”
“Oh, come on,” he shook his head. “That’s kindergarten rules. We’re all adults here. We help each other out, especially if we can see that two people are obviously meant to be together and they need some outside force to help them find their way back to each other.”
A sad smile appeared on your face as you asked, “you really think it’s that simple?”
“I do,” Mark confirmed. “And it is. It’s our anxiety that overcomplicates everything.”
Having spent your whole life philosophizing about every single decision you’ve ever had to make, you couldn’t quite imagine what it was like to live life differently. To just follow the path the universe laid out for you without questioning if every step you took was the right one. To not suffer from anxiety each time you ended up taking a step in the wrong direction. It all seemed foreign to you.
“Hmm. Thank you for that tidbit of wisdom, too,” you said. “And for the drinks. And for—you know what, just thank you for being born.”
Mark laughed at this and gave you a quick salute when he saw you head towards the exit. “Good luck!”
Calling Jaebum a thousand times over proved to be remarkably easy in comparison to dialing Jackson’s number only once—even if you still had alcohol lingering in your bloodstream. That was probably because, when you called Jaebum, you already knew he wasn’t going to answer. But with Jackson… well, he could pick up the call. And then you would have to actually open your mouth and find the words to say. Words that would efficiently explain why you’d acted deceptively for so long – although, the more time passed since Jaebum left, the more convinced you were that you’d have needed a psychology degree to understand why you allowed yourself to take this secrecy so far – and would also convince Jackson to help you get in touch with Jaebum.
You even debated writing a speech but realized that Jackson would probably see right through you. As someone who worked with music for most of his life, he was probably fairly adept at telling when people were reading their notes and when they were speaking from the heart.
Your heart was terrified, however. Terrified and most decidedly mute. You didn’t know what to say – begging seemed like a great option – and you were scared of Jackson turning you down. He was, at the moment, your only bridge to Jaebum because you weren’t quite ready to break into Jackson’s house and talk to Jaebum face-to-face without anyone’s help. Jackson was your plan A and you were afraid of the lengths your plan B was going to make you go in order to achieve the same result.
“Hello?” Jackson’s groggy voice picked up your call. He was a huge ray of positive energy when you saw him for the first time, so it was almost concerning to hear him so serious.
“H-hey,” you started and, not bothering with an introduction, headed straight to the point, “you probably know why I’m calling.”
“I—yeah,” Jackson said. He must have recognized your voice—or, at least, the desperation in it. “Jaebum—he’s… well, he’s here. He’s with me.”
Your heart was really giving its all at pumping blood. You could feel your pulse in your temples, thud-thudding against the telephone you kept firmly pressed against your ear as if your heartbeat could have asked the question you were afraid to voice.
“Can I… talk to him?” you managed, your voice breaking and vision blurring.
“I’m not—I don’t know,” Jackson said and, before you could begin hyperventilating, he continued to explain, “we’re back at my place. The… the writing didn’t go so well, so he’s locked up in my guest bedroom. Last time I checked up on him, he was frantically scribbling something on paper, so I’m—yeah, no, he’s busy.”
Incoherent scribbles on paper could have been a very accurate description of what you were feeling – and thinking – at the moment, as you clutched the sheets of your bed with your free hand.
God, this was precisely the sort of ill-timing that made people give up on each other: you’ve kept quiet while Jaebum needed you to speak up, and now that you were finally ready to talk, Jaebum didn’t want to listen. You could almost smell the end – the ultimate end – and notice the shades of red flames in the horizon – although you couldn’t be sure if that was just your heart or your entire life burning up.
You couldn’t let your wrong decisions ruin the one right one. You couldn’t let the pain of yesterday annihilate every promise of tomorrow.
“Listen…” you started, the ball of regret in your throat making it difficult to get the words out, “I told him. I just—I didn’t even get a chance to follow up anything I’ve said with a proper explanation because he just bolted straight out of the door. And I… I don’t think it’s my stubbornness that’s forcing me to call him every five minutes just to see if I could make him see things from my point of view. That’s not it. I do think I owe him an explanation but he deserves the right to decide which way he’s going to be looking at things. In any case, I need to talk to him and I—h-he shouldn’t be staying locked up at your house, Jackson. Not because he thinks I did something I didn’t actually do—”
“But you did do something,” Jackson cut you off but his voice was gentle. He sounded like he wanted to help and, while you really wanted him to do just that, you also felt like you didn’t deserve his kindness. “You lied to him about what was going on in your life. And this might have been, arguably, one of the most important experiences ever for you, you know what I mean? You cut him out from this big part of your life, he’s—well, he has a right to feel hurt.”
“He does! But, God, I don’t want him to,” you were suddenly talking much faster, trying to race the tears that were coming. “I want to give him my reasons—I-I selfishly want him to hear all of my excuses. So, then maybe he could focus on hating me instead of feeling hurt. I’m the only one that should be suffering here, really—”
“No one should be suffering,” Jackson declared. “This isn’t a Shakespearean tragedy. Far from it, in fact. I… Jaebum sort of overworked himself today, I don’t think he’s slept the night before. Although, God knows, he looks like he hasn’t slept in a week. B-but I assume you do, too.”
“I—well, it doesn’t matter,” you lowered your eyes, scanning the wooden tiles of your bedroom floor. You’ve stared at them before but never realized how foreign and completely unfamiliar they seemed even despite living here for months. “All of this is my fault, anyway.”
Jackson exhaled and remained silent for a beat or two before finally saying, “I will think of something.”
Your throat had suddenly dried up as you croaked out, “y-yeah?”
“Yeah,” he confirmed. “I promise I’ll find a way for you to talk to him.”
The sudden feeling of hope was like a jolt of electricity and you leaped to your feet, your lungs taking advice from your heart and going into overdrive as you struggled to find enough time to exhale before you needed to inhale again.
“Jackson—I—oh, thank you,” you spoke rapidly. “Thank you so much, I—”
“I can’t promise that he’ll listen, though,” he warned – which was fair. “But if he does, then—well, just remember to tell him everything you’ve told me that night, okay?”
You had a feeling Jackson meant one part of your conversation with him in particular – the part where you admitted you loved Jaebum – and you nodded furiously before realizing he couldn’t see you.
“I will,” you promised. “I’ll tell him everything. Every single thing. I will not stop talking until he’s sick of me. I just—I need him to know that I—”
“Good,” Jackson cut you off, helping you realize that you were already starting to say the things you should have said to Jaebum. “I know he wants to see you, too, but he’s far too upset to admit that right now. I’ll call you later, okay?”
The supportive tone in Jackson’s voice almost caused the tears that had pooled in your eyes to stream down your face in a pathetic shower of sorrow. Both Jackson and Mark had been so supportive of your relationship, you were afraid to think that they might have been more hopeful about your future with Jaebum than they should have been.
“Yeah, okay,” you said, sitting back down on your bed to hopefully slow yourself down. “Look after him for me, please, okay? Make sure he eats and gets some sleep.”
“I—” he started to say but your unexpected request seemed to surprise him. “Yeah, of course. I will. Take care of yourself, too, yeah? Everything will be okay.”
Summary: New term, new people. Transferring from Busan University to Seoul your second year of majoring in law, new challenges pop up; with an addition to your already hard courses, people add to your daily list of concerns.
Warnings: Swearwords, enemies to lovers, a character is lesbian, slight mentions and jokes about lesbianism, witty humour, dark humour, nsfw jokes here and there, hints of sexual acts (non-descriptive, will say it is not smut), literally ot5 x oc tbh
Beomgyu x reader/oc (2nd POV, but fixed personality and some physical traits of Y/n)
a/n: sorry lol gyu’s a total dick in this chapter
You storm into the room the millisecond Taehyun opens it, quick enough to let the force cause the door to slam into the wall. After hearing from Li that Beomgyu seems to have something against you, you chose to take the matter into your own hands. All you’ve tried to do with him is be friendly and show that you want to fit in the group with all of them, not replace anyone.
Yet he seems very angered about your existence even, and you cannot even explain in civil words how much it irks you that he hides behind his phone screen instead of talking to you. Everyone talks shit about each other yes, but you are 100% sure you have not done anything purposefully to anger him. So, you angrily look at him with pure hatred in your eyes. His whole uncaring demeanour hinted at his ego growing bigger and faster than bamboo, yet he had nothing to be cocky for. Cocky is one thing, but his egoistical and self absorbed behaviour is affecting you.
”You fucker, stop badmouthing me for no reason. Be a fucking adult and tell me your problem with me to my face instead of hiding behind your friends!” you scream at the body of Beomgyu as he startedly sits up. A scowl soon paints his face and the thin fingers of his grab the blanket around him to not punch you right there and then.
“Okay then, Y/n,” he begins and stands up, leaving you no choice but to back away to avoid bumping noses with him. With his eyes fiercely pierced on yours, he takes comes a step closer while eyeing Taehyun (who’s still at the door in shock) to leave you alone.
He waddles away, closing the door quickly. Beomgyu scoffs as soon as the door’s automatic lock clicks on.
“You want to know what my problem with you is?”
“Really sounds like the exact thing I just said, dickhead.”
“My problem with you is that you’re a stuck up bitch who doesn’t deserve the fucking love she gets from everyone. You got here 2 weeks ago yet everyone’s treating you like a queen, behaving like children when you’re not that fucking special,” he spits out, venom laced in his teeth. Suddenly the air feels constrained and you huff in an attempt to swallow the lump in your throat.
“Well if you have such a problem with it, say that to them. You don’t have to like me, it doesn’t matter to me because I don’t give a shit about what a low life like you thinks of me. When you get your ass out of those fucking books and realise you have the mental competence of a three year old, THEN I’ll give a shit. Until then, you can go cry about “losing” your friends when ALL I’ve ever done is try to be nice to you.”
And with that, you turn around to leave, not without slamming the door in his quiet face. You want to scream at him more, with all your anger piling up, yet you choose to be a little kinder today.
Not that you are not ever kind, you just know when to talk and not. You aren’t going to let him push your whole persona and image down for his own selfishness.
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This is a work of @shinyun and is not to be copied, translated or stolen. All credits go to the rightful owner and the characters of this story are completely fictional, they do not reflect any of the acts of real individuals.
Summary: New term, new people. Transferring from Busan University to Seoul your second year of majoring in law, new challenges pop up; with an addition to your already hard courses, people add to your daily list of concerns.
Warnings: Swearwords, enemies to lovers, slight mentions and jokes about lesbianism, witty humour, dark humour, nsfw jokes here and there, hints of sexual acts (non-descriptive, will say it is not smut), literally ot5 x oc tbh
Beomgyu x reader/oc (2nd POV, but fixed personality and some physical traits of Y/n)
Previous Masterlist Next
taglist (open):
This is a work of @shinyun and is not to be copied, translated or stolen. All credits go to the rightful owner and the characters of this story are completely fictional, they do not reflect any of the acts of real individuals.
Summary: New term, new people. Transferring from Busan University to Seoul your second year of majoring in law, new challenges pop up; with an addition to your already hard courses, people add to your daily list of concerns.
Warnings: Swearwords, enemies to lovers, a character is lesbian, slight mentions and jokes about lesbianism, witty humour, dark humour, nsfw jokes here and there, hints of sexual acts (non-descriptive, will say it is not smut), literally ot5 x oc tbh
Beomgyu x reader/oc (2nd POV, but fixed personality and some physical traits of Y/n)
You learned 3 things about Li during your first meeting:
1. She’s extremely pretty (you have to ask for her makeup routine someday)
2. Her mind is very quick and she thinks faster than what she can express. Which causes all that leaves her mouth to become incoherent.
3. She’s very welcoming and giving, having cooked a meal for you that was placed on the counter with a note.
And not only that, but she now invites you to hang out with her friends? From a brief background check (also called stalking) you found out that she hangs out a lot with 5 guys and by the looks of it, they’re all very different in personas. You’ve always wanted that, so with a great mood you thank her yes for the invite.
Not an hour later you are walking with her on the wet pavement, sliding between the masses of people. She’s excitedly talking about how this restaurant is a hidden gem and how you’re not allowed to reveal it, since it’s their “secret hangout spot”. You expected a small little restaurant with the chef being an elderly lady whose hands shake more than an earthquake itself, but you’re pleasantly surprised.
It’s not a large restaurant per se, but it’s extremely cozy and well furnished. Small paintings and photographs are displayed along the walls, and instead of regular chairs there are pillows on the floor. It seemed to be a traditional restaurant, with the music only being classical ones with piano and harp.
In the middle of it all sits 5 guys who all have different hair colours. They turn at the sound of the bell above the door ringing, and soon enough they stand up to greet you with warm smiles. What you didn’t realise was that they were HUGE. Sitting on the floor made them look like small babies, yet here they are, their figures casting a shadow on your face as they greet you.
“You’re Li’s new roommate, right?”
Previous Masterlist Next
taglist (open):
This is a work of @shinyun and is not to be copied, translated or stolen. All credits go to the rightful owner and the characters of this story are completely fictional, they do not reflect any of the acts of real individuals.
Summary: New term, new people. Transferring from Busan University to Seoul your second year of majoring in law, new challenges pop up; with an addition to your already hard courses, people add to your daily list of concerns.
Warnings: Swearwords, enemies to lovers, a character is lesbian, slight mentions and jokes about lesbianism, witty humour, dark humour, nsfw jokes here and there, hints of sexual acts (non-descriptive, will say it is not smut), literally ot5 x oc tbh
Beomgyu x reader/oc (2nd POV, but fixed personality and some physical traits of Y/n)
Previous Masterlist Next
taglist (open):
This is a work of @shinyun and is not to be copied, translated or stolen. All credits go to the rightful owner and the characters of this story are completely fictional, they do not reflect any of the acts of real individuals.
Summary: New term, new people. Transferring from Busan University to Seoul your second year of majoring in law, new challenges pop up; with an addition to your already hard courses, people add to your daily list of concerns.
Warnings: Swearwords, enemies to lovers, slight mentions and jokes about lesbianism, witty humour, dark humour, nsfw jokes here and there, hints of sexual acts (non-descriptive, will say it is not smut), literally ot5 x oc tbh
Beomgyu x reader/oc (2nd POV, but fixed personality and some physical traits of Y/n)
Previous Masterlist Next
taglist (open):
This is a work of @shinyun and is not to be copied, translated or stolen. All credits go to the rightful owner and the characters of this story are completely fictional, they do not reflect any of the acts of real individuals.
