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#jackson wang fics
Text
i don't wanna look at anything else (now that i saw you)
Warnings: Uhhh. Not much. Just some v v light angst, and Jackjack being a teeny tiny bit of a dumbass lil shit. Mentions of alcohol and getting drunk fuk yeah no don't do too much alcohol, kids. body and image insecurities, too.
Pairings: Jackson Wang/Reader
Plot: In another lifetime, another universe, your happy ending has always been in front of you all along.
Genre: light angst, eventual happy ending
And I can still see it all (In my mind)
All of you, all of me (Intertwined)
I once believed love would be (Black and white)
But it's golden (Golden)
And I can still see it all (In my head)
Back and forth from New York (Sneaking in your bed)
I once believed love would be (Burning red)
But it's golden
Like daylight, like daylight
Like daylight, daylight
I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you
(I can never look away)
I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you
(Things will never be the same)
I've been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night
(Now I'm wide awake)
mixtape: all i have left to give - part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - ending 1
Oooooooohhhhweeeeeee
This is crazy
So much has happened since I last posted.
i got psychiatric help so guess who's on meds now? yay (not)
i mentioned here before that when I write the mixtape series, it's not necessarily in chronological order. I already have a rough draft in my mind of how it would go, and I am already planning to write the prequel to the first part, but it won't necessarily mean that it will come first. I also have an idea of what will happen for the ending(s?), but I have yet to muster the energy to write continuously right now bc so much has happened irl
With that being said, my next part will be a glimpse of one of the "what-if" endings. If it irks you that my writings are all over the place, I'm so sorry but I rly cant force my brain to write at one linear pace. As I always say, I hope I don't disappoint, and I'm so sorry if I do.
Thank you so much for loving my babies and for giving them the time of the day. Every time I get a notification of likes/reblogs/kudos/bookmarks, it warms my heart bc wtf it is more than I ever hoped for
thank you so much once again! this part is for those who are rooting for my babie jackjack because hey, he's a fuckin sweetheart and i love him to bits
just a little trigger warning for some insecurities because this is kinda self-projecting, i'm so sorry T_T
🌅
Soft morning light greets you when you open your eyes.
You've always relished in these times—the seconds or minutes of blank bliss and silence in between waking up and lucidity. These are times of peace before facing the storm of the day.
You stare at the ceiling of the room, the cream-colored walls, then the photos that line up your drawers.
So much has happened these past few months. Sometimes, you still can't believe that you've survived through it, that you powered through it. You genuinely thought it would end up killing you, and that you'd die hurting inside out.
But you lived, and you're happy now.
You turn your head to the side to find him, still slumbering. You take a deep breath and dig your fingers into your palm, afraid that this will all be a dream, and that you'll wake up with sweat on your forehead and blood on your lips and sheets.
You honestly would never have made it without him.
The one and only constant in your life, your ride-or-die.
Jackson.
He had been there through everything—the treatments, the hospitalizations, the relapses, and the recovery. He was there to see you fall apart at 3 a.m., see you struggle with breathing at random times of the day, there to see you bleed out from the love you had (have) for the other men who were supposed to love you back unconditionally.
He was there through everything, and he never once let go of your hand.
Sometimes, you think how it would be if you ended up with them; what would happen? Would you be happier? How would it be different from how it is right now?
But then, you think, they never loved you the way you wished to, the way they should've until you were on the brink of death. There would be too much resentment, too much guilt, too much pain. You would never be truly happy.
You feel guilty thinking about these things. You are genuinely happy— happier even—than you've ever been. Jackson never made you feel like you have to be someone else, like you have to live up to someone's high expectations. You never have to cry again, except when he goes on tour and you miss him, or when you're so happy with him that tears just can't help but make confetti in your eyes.
But then, you and Jackson both know that it is inevitable, that the love for the seven men who were once the center of your soul would never really go away. And he's okay with it, you're both okay with it. You've both made peace that they will always be a part of your life. All that matters is Jackson is your home now, that he's the one that you'll come home to. He's the one that you will make a space for in your heart, and the only one that will occupy it and stay for good.
Jackson is home, and he always will be.
You reach out and carefully brush Jackson's hair away from his still-closed eyes. Moments like this you miss the most when he's away on tour and you can't go with him. It gets lonely, but his coming home with the biggest and proudest smile on his face makes everything worth it.
He is worth it, and he always will be.
You scoot closer to his sleeping figure, wrapping your arm around his waist. Februaries are always cold, so his body warmth is heaven-sent. It is also one of the things you miss during times apart. You grew up in a non-affectionate household, touch-starved to the point that you became touch- repulsed. But after getting to know how Jackson feels like home, you can never get enough of his touch. You can never go for too long without it, and you can say you almost reverted to being touch-starved.
You shift to wrap yourself around him, slinging your leg lightly over his. You hear him groan as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, trying not to miss him already. You still have two weeks left before he leaves again for his next tour, but you can already feel the creeping sadness and pit in your stomach.
You're getting separation anxiety again. Maybe it's time to talk to your therapist.
Your fingers find themselves curled on his arms lightly, tracing shapes and absently doodling on his skin. 
"You're up early," comes Jackson's sleep-laden voice, his arms wrapping around your shoulders.
"'m not up yet," you grumble, subtly inhaling the scent of his skin. "And it's already seven AM; not early."
Jackson chuckles. "Okay, okay. No need to get pouty."
You huff. "I'm not pouty," an irony as you can actually feel yourself pout more when he says that. "It's really just not early."
It is early, you actually know it. But you want to spend more time with him before he sets off to wow the whole world again while you stay behind and wait for him to come home, so no, it's not really early.
You feel him kiss your hair. "Ah. I'm still here, but you already miss me." He laughs lightly. "What would you do without me?"
You know it's a joke, but your abandonment issues have been seriously acting up for a while now. You have to swallow before answering.
"I'd die without you," you blink rapidly to stop yourself from crying, trying to keep your tone light. "Terribly, so."
"Hey," Jackson tries to push your shoulder gently to look at your face, but you don't want him to see your crumpled expression.
"Hey, don't cry. It's too early for you to cry." You sniff, not wanting to let go of him. "I'm joking. You can never get rid of me at this point."
"But you can get rid of me," you fail to not sound miserable. "You can find someone else and settle down with them, someone whole."
A pause.
"Someone not broken."
"No." This time, Jackson's tone is firm, almost angry. "I don't like you talking about yourself like this, and I won't get rid of you. Is that what you think of me?"
"No, but you—"
"'But I ' nothing '," he says. He sits you both up and he puts his hands on your shoulders. "I fought nail and tooth just so I can have my happy ending with you. I fought with the law, I fought your soulmates, and I will fight all over again just so I can have this until we grow old and wrinkly. Why would I get rid of someone I've wanted my whole life? That's fucking stupid."
Your lips curl in a slight pout, trembling with all the tears that want to escape. You absently touch your chest, used to the phantom pain that came with the soul-scraping before. It's gone now, but all the things you used to do, used to go through, as well as the painful memories are still here.
"I..." You start, voice hoarse. "Sorry, I just don't want a repeat of that, you know?"
"I know."
"And I know you're not like them, but there are so many reasons things don't work out. And not to be dramatic or what—erm—," you clear your throat, "but I won't survive the next time I go through that again." Not if everything goes into plan, that next step you are planning with him. "It'll kill me."
You won't survive another soul-scraping, you just won't.
"You won't. I won't leave, I promise." Jackson presses a tender kiss on your lips, running his thumb on your cheek as he cradles it gently. "As I said, we'll grow old and wrinkly. We'll be that meme on Facebook where we grow old together and play bump cars with wheelchairs."
You snort softly. "If you damage my rhetorical wheelchair, I'm using yours. You crawl on the ground."
He grins, a lovely sight on his pretty face. "I'll always crawl my way back to you," he croons.
Jackson leans in and captures your lips in a gentle kiss. His hand finds its way inside your top and you flinch unintentionally. He tenses, then pulls away.
"I'm sorry," you hurriedly say.
"Hey," he says, eyes searching your face. "No need to apologize. I'm sorry. We don't need to do anything you don't want to."
"No, no. I want to." You pause, biting your lip. "It's just... my scar." You absently trace your myectomy scar. He looks at you, willing you to go on. "It's ugly." Among all other things.
"You will never be ugly." You open your mouth to retort but he silences you with a serious look. "I love you, scars and all. But as I said, we don't have to do anything. I just want to spend my time with you, and I'm good."
God, you think, I really think I'll marry you.
You surge up with a fierce kiss to his lips, taking your top off before you can change your mind.
"Wait, wait." Jackson puts his hand on yours, stopping you from taking your shirt off. "No."
"No?" You swallow thickly.
"No, not like that," he says hurriedly, seeing your mood shift. "Is it a good day?"
You know what he means, and it is not.
"No," you agree in a small voice. "It isn't."
You've gotten far from your insecurities, but they sometimes come back sneakily, like they did yesterday and today, of all days.
"We can keep your shirt on if you'd like?" he offers.
You take one look at him. Yup, you'll definitely marry him.
"Please?" You implore with your eyes.
He smiles softly. "Then we keep your shirt on."
His smile turns wicked.
"Won't stop me from eating you out from under it, though."
---
"Mark!"
"No," Mark says flatly. "You're not backing out of this."
"But—"
"Do you love him?" he asks.
"Yes!"
"Do you want to marry his ugly face?"
"He's not ugly, but yes!"
"Do you want to spend your lifetime kissing his ugly face?"
"Again, my Jackson is not ugly, but yes, I do!"
"Did you change your mind then?"
"Y—no, I did not!"
"Then why are you backing out?!"
"Because what if he doesn't want to?" [Name] bursts out to which Mark snorts impatiently. "What if doesn't want that for life? That's a lifetime of commitment, Mark. I can't undo that shit."
"You think he would want to?" Mark asks, almost angry, his patience growing thin. He rolls his eyes to heaven when he sees you in near tears.
"He wants to marry your equally ugly face," to which you splutter a 'hey!', "he talks, breathes, and sleeps nothing but [Name], [Name], [Name]." He sighs.
"Do you really think he would let go of you now?"
You know at this point that your fear is redundant and irrational, but you can't help it. Not when your own (ex-)soulmates didn't want you. It took you almost dying, and choosing your dignity and self-respect before they turned around. And even then, it was too late. Your soul is having none of it.
Mark softens at your silence. "Did you talk to your therapist about this?"
You nod. "Yeah. He said that I should start forgiving myself and moving forward and that I should believe that not everyone is like them. Not everyone will leave me."
"He's right. We won't leave you. We're stuck with you, just like how you're stuck with us. Okay?"
"Okay."
"Okay, good. Now, give me my hug because I just got from a long tiring flight because someone didn't want me to ride her private jet." He glares at you.
You laugh. "I told you, I need to fly here earlier than you since you can't cancel your meeting."
"You could've—I don't know—waited for me, maybe?" He pulls you in a tight hug.
Before you two can pull away, however, you both hear the sounds of Jackson's voice and the door opening.
Oh, shit.
You two freeze on your hug. You don't understand why you did but you just feel guilty, like being caught with your hand down your pants. You and Mark pull away from each other quickly.
"What's this? Hugging without me, huh?" Jackson jokes, but you can hear the slight insinuation in his voice, one that Mark does as well.
"Yeah, I'm stealing your girlfriend, Wang. Watch out." Mark smirks lightheartedly.
This bitch!
Jackson's eyebrow twitches. "You wish." They embrace in a brief hug before he turns to you with a soft smile on his pretty face.
Wow. Years in and you still can't get your heart to shut up over his smile.
"Hey," he says softly. "This is a very nice surprise."
"I missed you and the bed was cold," you pout slightly. "So here I am."
"Ah, I knew it. You just want a bed warmer." In the background, you can hear Mark fake gag, and Jackson gives him the finger.
"No, I want my Jackson not an electric blankie, smartass."
"Your Jackson, huh?" Mark fake gags again, and you smile at Jackson's 'fuck off, Tuan'.
"This is not what I signed up for, so I'm leaving you lovebirds to it."
"About time." This time, it's Jackson who grumbles, and you and Mark both laugh. "Shut up."
---
The next few days of the tour see Jackson busier than ever, and so are you. With the tour coming to its end, you scramble to get the last steps of your surprise into place. After all, Jackson deserves the best, and you don't want to give him any less.
This also means that you both get to see less of each other. You miss him and it sucks, and Jackson sometimes gets to receive the burnt of it, unfortunately.
"Hey. It's okay, everything's going to be okay," he says. You are so close to bursting and just saying fuck it, but you can't, so you let out a frustrated growl.
"It is not, stop saying that again and again." It is not. The local producer and local venue producer are being tough nuts to crack for some unknown reason, and are uncooperative. They are the only remaining people you need in on the plan, so it is taking too much time and effort on your part. Not that Jackson is not worth it, but the headache is just a bitch to deal with. "It really isn't so I ask you to kindly fuck off, Jackson. I don't need you patronizing me right now."
"Hey," he says firmly, his jaw heavy set. "I'm not doing anything, so don't take your shit out on me."
Ah, shit.
"Jacks—"
"Is it because I'm taking much of your time?"
"What?"
"Is it because I'm taking your time away to be with Mark?"
Your jaw drops. "Excuse me?"
"You think I don't see how you spend your time with him? How close you two seem to be nowadays?"
Aw, hell no.
"Jackson, no. What the fuck?"
"No, no. It's okay. You don't need to explain, you know? If you want to be with Mark-hyung, it's fine. I'm not gonna stand in the way."
"What are you talking about? Are you saying I'm cheating on you?" you ask in disbelief.
Jackson shakes his head. "I'm saying that if you want to be with him, you don't need to start picking fights just so we can break up." His eyes turn sad. "I'll let you go, you just have to ask."
Your chest hurts at that, stirring up old feelings you thought you'd never be able to feel again. "And you're gonna let me go, just like that?"
Silence.
You laugh humorlessly. "Wow. And you think of me that way, too."
"[Name]—"
"No." You thank whatever fuck there is that you had the foresight to book a separate room to plan your surprise (not that you sleep in it, with you opting to always sleep beside Jackson since arriving) and take your bag from the chair by the window of the suite.
"Thank you for clearing that shit up. At least I know now where I stand."
Jackson grasps your wrist delicately. "Sweetheart—"
You pull your wrist away from him. "Don't 'sweetheart' me, Jackson." He stops at the sight of the brimming tears in your eyes, the hurt painted in it.
"I trusted you with shit, you knew how I abhor those things you accuse me of. You knew how I hated my mom because of the things she did, and yet you dared think I am like her."
"I didn't—"
"Yes, you did, Jackson. Because if you only knew how full I am of you since the day I let those bastards go from my life." You sniff. "It's only and always been you, you, and you. Everyone knew that; everyone knows that."
"I don't—"
"Yeah, you don't. So I'll spare you the time and just leave you be. I never plan to force myself into something or someone, and I don't plan to start now."
Jackson tries to refute that it isn't the case, but you slam the door shut in his face behind you before he can even get a word in.
[ah, these kids. what do i do with you two?]
Jackson looks at the door you just slammed shut in his face, then to the dresser in his suite that you never opened. You two had always been intertwined, but you always gave him his space and privacy. He walks towards it, opens it, and takes the velvet box with the sparkling ring in it.
All I can say is you two are idiots, and everyone will agree with me.
---
"You what?!"
You grumble, shielding your bottle away from Mark. "Please don't shout at me, I'm already having a hard time as it is." You try to pull off your pitiful face, but Mark only makes his own face at you.
To be fair, Mark finds you pitiful, but not in that way. And he kind of wants to punch Jackson in the face right now too because seriously, you and Mark? It's like him and his sisters, what the actual fuck?
He can't blame the man, however. Everyone in the circle knows how Jackson has been wounded by the relationships he was in before, so it's easier for him to switch to defense mode. Jackson has always been prone to leave before he gets left when he feels like the other party is slowly losing interest.
But the dumbass has always been prone to the dumbest dumbassery in the group. And this? This takes the cake, Mark could roll his eyes to heaven.
"And you didn't bother to, I don't know, explain shit to him?" he asks with the patience of a saint.
You pout. You had the audacity to pout and Mark feels the patience slowly slipping away from him. "No. It's not gonna be a surprise anymore if I do."
Holy fuck.
"Are you shitting my dick right now?" he mutters. You only snort and Mark pulls away the bottle from you.
"Hey!"
"Listen to me. It's not gonna be a surprise anymore if you two break up because there'll be no one to surprise. You know he is a dumbass and you decided to be a dumbass too?"
"Hey! He accused me first! I didn't accuse him anything when he shot that sexy ass shoot with the ashes and stuff—"
"—Cruel." Mark supplies helpfully.
"Yes, that. I didn't do that with the main dancer when they've been cute and friendly and shit off cam, and yet he accuses me with you." You belch and gag, and Mark steps away slightly from you to avoid any impending projectile vomiting. "Like 'ew'."
"I agree with you, but how dare you, bitch? Are you saying I'm 'ew'?"
You level him with a look as much as you can with your drunk face, and Mark has never had the urge to headlock a woman before.
"Anyway," you say forlornly, "at least I know where we stand now." You sniff, and Mark feels bad for you (a little).
"No, you really don't. I thought that by now, you would know how he is."
"You weren't there when he said it!" You burst out angrily. "He means it! Do you know how it feels standing there and being practically told that he knows I'll leave him for other people, and that he'll let me?" You burp loudly again. "Me, of all people? When he knew how I detest that shit. With all the things I went through?"
And then you burst into ugly sobs.
[ah, jackson. you really are one dumbass.]
"Hey, hey, no," Mark says, wrapping his arms around you. "Don't cry. You're not allowed to cry. Doctor Im told you you're still healing; you're not even allowed to drink."
"Yet here I am," you say with a shaky laugh that morphs into another sob. "Again."
You're not sure if you're just talking about drinking or the fact that you're on the brink of losing yourself again over lost relationships. It's tiring, really. But it is what it is, as they say.
"Can you—can you please get my bag?" you ask Mark. "By the door, tossed it earlier," you slur.
You've never really shown Mark the ring you want to propose to Jackson with. Mark assumed that it is flashy, and you're never one for flashy things, so you're embarrassed about it.
That's not it, however. Completely the opposite, actually. The engagement ring is totally simple, a silver band encrusted with small diamonds on top. The only flashy thing about it is the bigger diamond heart in the center and the smaller gems that surround it on both sides.
The smaller gems are the highlights, you think. You took them from the necklace with both the birthstones that were gifted by Jackson to you during your first year anniversary and had them cut delicately to fit the ring you had in mind. On the right heart side are your birthstones, while on the left are Jackson's. You know some might find it too feminine, and Jackson might not be able to wear it that much in his line of work, but the ring is the most beautiful thing you have ever created in your life.
And now, Jackson won't be able to see it. That thought brings you to a fresh round of tears.
"Too girly, isn't it?" You ask Mark, who is silent. "And it should be the other way around—he should be the one asking me to marry him. I still would've asked him to marry me with this, Mark. That's how I don't give a shit. I just wanna marry his ugly face, but now I can't."
"You wanna marry me?" Comes a soft voice behind you and Mark. You jerk away, and Mark gently unwraps his arms around you as Jackson steps forward.
"I'll let you lovebirds talk," Mark says as he pulls away, but your wide eyes (as wide as bloodshot eyes can be) are only trained on Jackson. Mark pats Jackson's shoulder with a low 'we'll talk later', and Jackson only nods. It is silent until Mark closes the door behind him.
"You wanna marry me?" Jackson asks again. "You're gonna ask to marry me, [Name]?"
You can only nod, your eyes shut as your tears don't stop falling.
"Stay here," he only says. It's not like you're going anywhere, so you stay put. However, when five minutes turn to fifteen, then to twenty, you start to think that Jackson has either gone to sleep or gone off to god knows where. Before you can even think about getting up and running after him, the door to your suite opens.
"Come here, stand up." Jackson takes your hand and helps you stand up. He wipes your face with his hand, then with the cold cloth that someone hands him (whom you recognize is one of his staff). Other staff start to fuss over you as someone turns on the overhead lights.
"Wait, what?" you ask as someone starts to powder your face. "What's happening?"
You turn to Jackson, who's being ushered into a suit. You are ushered yourself by the few staff he had roped into helping into the other room to change into a tulle sweetheart dress.
"We're getting married."
---
"So, Jackson..." You hear the host through the speakers start his next question as you wait backstage with Mark. Even with the elopement, you're still going through with your plan.
That other plan.
"No," Mark says flatly. "You're not backing out of this."
Here we go again, but this time, Mark is a little less pissed and more exhausted with your shenanigans.
"No, I'm just saying. Maybe I should do this in private instead? This is the equivalent of putting a girl on the spot with marriage proposals, which, for the record, I absolutely detest because fuck having choice and not cornering them into whatever they want, right?"
"While I do agree with you, he'll pee his pants and probably hump you if you do this than to be put off, trust me," Mark says. "And besides, everything is ready. All it needs is the execution."
Mark has a point.
Before you can wimp out again, you hear your name being called to an uproar of cheers. You're lucky Jackson's fanbase is mostly supportive of your relationship since you two came out a few years ago, though it is not without some minor hiccups and a few outrage from the unsupportive ones. What matters however is you lucked out, and you can never be more grateful.
"[Name] [Last Name], ladies and gentlemen!" You hear the host say as you see Jackson's blinding grin when you step out from the backstage.
Oh, you swoon. My smitten darling [Name].
Steady, girl.
"So, Miss [Last Name]—"
"It's Mrs. Wang, actually." You hear gasps from the audience, and Jackson's blinding grin turns lovelier and wider. "We actually got married in secret, and you forgot this at home." You hand him his ring as you grin mischievously.
"Okay, Peeta Mellark." Jackson rolls his eyes good-naturedly as he slips on his ring. "What a way to break it to them."
"My, my." The host fans himself with a wide smile. "Is this what you meant when you told me you'll be getting me a high rating?"
"I hope so," you say sheepishly. "If it doesn't, then no worries. I still have another trick in my hat. Don't you worry."
You look at Jackson and can't help but laugh inwardly at his clueless smile.
Oh, dear.
The interview goes without a hitch, with it mostly centered on your married life. You were originally nervous about how it would turn out, but it had been so far so good. Nobody threw shoes, and all that happened was a little 'booooo' when asked if you had had your honeymoon yet (which not yet, because you were both busy for a while after his tour).
"So, [Name]," the host asks again with a little waggle of his eyebrows. "What is this other trick of yours you mentioned earlier?"
Ah, shit. Here we go.
"Ah." Your smile turns a little serene, and you see Jackson sit up straighter in his seat. Nobody would notice it if they are not in tune with him, but he practically owns your whole soul, and you'd like to think that you do his, too, so you notice it.
"Have I told you my story about my soulmates?"
The host shakes his head. "Pray, do tell."
"Well, not everyone gets lucky with theirs. Everyone knows that." You smile sadly, the audience turning quiet.
"Yes, of course. A very sad fact that everyone is very well acquainted with." The host smiles sympathetically at you.
"I used to think it was the end of the world when mine didn't want anything to do with me. I kept thinking that something was wrong with me, that maybe I was really not worth their time. That maybe I was meant to suffer and die hurting."
You pause, then you look at Jackson. "But then I realize, I have you," you say softly.
You look back at the host.
"What more can I ask for when I have him?"
Your smile turns happier as the audience lets out a quiet 'aww'.
"I really like doing things unconventional and my way so..."
You bite your lower lip as you look once again at Jackson, who has his eyes trained on you and hanging on to every word you say.
"Would you give me the honor of being my forever soulmate, Jackson?"
It was like a time warp. The moment he said yes, cheers erupted, and everything blurred and warped in your ears. All your fears, all the hurt and pain? It was gone.
This is your happy ending, you deserve it, my dear [Name].
Go live it.
---
Meanwhile, somewhere a thousand miles away, a group of young men smile sadly at what could have been, and what was lost. Their chests perpetually ache with the loss of a piece of a soul they can never get back.
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sweetestofchaos · 1 year
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Jackson Wang Masterlist
Story Key
Fluff 🎀 Angst 💔 Slice of Life 😊
NonHuman 🦄 Smut 🔞Dark 🚬 Hiatus 🛑
Writing ✍🏽 Complete 👍🏽 Mini Series 🤏🏽
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Got7 Masterlist
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Hard Hours: Different 🔞 requests
Vanish in the Rain - Sometimes the rain is your only comfort  😊 💔
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Hold On: What starts out as a rough night morphs into the night of your life. 😊
New Man Ft. Namjoon - Social Media AU
Gif Fic 1 💔
Not In Love: Jackson loves you, but he’s not in love with you 💔
All Hands: Jackson is seen as a single father until his wife wakes up 💔
Say My Name: 𝖩𝖺𝖼𝗄𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝖶𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗌 𝖺 𝖽𝗈𝗀, 𝗇𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝖺 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗐𝗈𝗅𝖿 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝖽𝗈𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝖸/𝖭. 𝖲𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝖼𝗅𝗎𝖾𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗂𝗌, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍? 🔞🎀🦄
Twisted: Yandere!Jackson 🚬 💔
↳ Anything: 𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗌𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗀𝗈. 𝖩𝖺𝖼𝗄𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍…𝖨𝖿 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇'𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗇𝗈 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇. (Yandere!Jackson) 🚬 💔
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Act Natural: Y/N is leaving her hometown and taking her three year old son with her. What happens when the rain gets her stuck at the airport? 🎀😊👍🏽
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mykoreanlove · 5 months
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Acts of intimacy
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Eyes shot open as you woke up from your slumber. It took you a minute to realize where you were. This was not your room, not your bed, not the scent of your home but everything fell into place as memories of last night clouded your vision.
Jackson and you ended up at his place, getting to know each other on a whole new level. Greedy kisses, lustful touches and heavy moans filled his walls for hours, until the two of you were too exhausted and had to take a break.
From the moment you met him you assumed he was a passionate lover but he outdid all the expectations you had of him. He did his hair style justice as he showed you his two prominent sides: the dark, dominating, hard one and the light, romantic, intimate one. Jackson was far from ordinary, but so were you.
And now he was laying behind you, still sound asleep. You felt his naked body on yours. Memories of you kissing every ab of his followed by sucking him off made you blush.
Suddenly, Jackson shifted and hugged you, pulling you closer to him. His big hands held you tightly, just like they did last night. You swore you could still feel his grip on your hips, the skin would definitely be bruised. He caught you by surprise as he murmured in his sleep. You couldn’t understand a word, you were too preoccupied with the deep tone of his voice anyway. You adored his voice, especially when he used it to demean you.
„You like being fucked like that? What a bad whore you are.“
Just thinking about it made you wet. Jackson must have sensed it as he slowly woke up, too. His voice was even raspier than before.
„Baby, are you up?“
You nodded.
Jackson felt you up and stopped at your tits, kneading them thoroughly. „I can’t believe what we did last night“, he chuckled amused. You felt his cock grow hard again, pressing into you. „Fuck, I want to go again but I’m so tired. Are you?“
His voice was soft and deep from exhaustion. You placed your hand on his and guided him down to your pussy, making him feel your wetness. Jackson sucked in his breath, less exhausted now.
„Baby, you’re insatiable“, he whispered into your ear as he played with your pussy. Circling, sliding, stretching - he was finger fucking you, making you melt within seconds. You grabbed his wrist for stability as you buckled your hips, loud moans escaped your pretty lips once more.
„Fuck, you’re so good for me. My sweet little whore.“
And with that you came all over him, again. Jackson smiled into your neck, leaving small kisses on your damp skin.
„I really like making you feel good like that, y/n. Can you make me feel good, too?“
You would have done anything for him. Quickly, you wanted to turn around but felt him blocking you moving.
„Stay that way. I want to slide into you from behind and… sleep within you. Is that ok?“
You giggled at the idea. „Your dick wants to sleep in my pussy. Is that it?“
Jackson nodded. „Please. Keep it warm in your pretty tight hole for me.“
You pressed your ass against his hips, signaling him to do it. Jackson let out a deep grunt as he pushed himself in you easily, your pussy was welcoming him dearly with your warmth and wetness. „God, you have no idea how good that feels“, he praised you once more.
For him, this wasn’t a kind of cockwarming, no to him this was an act of intimacy - something he craved dearly and finally found in you. You moved your hips, unsure if he had found the best position yet.
Jackson’s hands landed on your hips immediately, holding you in place firmly. „If you keep moving like that we won’t be sleeping anytime soon, Princess. Give me some time to refuel, okay? I promise I’ll make you scream my name before breakfast.“
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jinxhallows · 1 year
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ɪᴄɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴋᴇ | ᴊᴀᴄᴋsᴏɴ ᴡᴀɴɢ x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
☾ -- ɪᴄɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴋᴇ
ᴊᴀᴄᴋsᴏɴ ᴡᴀɴɢ x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴇxᴘʟɪᴄɪᴛ, 𝟷𝟾+, ᴀʟᴄᴏʜᴏʟ ᴜsᴇ, ғᴏᴏᴅᴘʟᴀʏ, ᴇsᴛᴀʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴsʜɪᴘ
ᴡᴄ: 𝟸.𝟹ᴋ
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So I wrote this originally in a discord brainrot with @gdragonsideburns (who ALSO WRITES INCREDIBLE SHIT) because although I am a smooth 30, I'm currently driving this song into an early grave and it made me think of Jackson Wang in the jungle? Do Jackson Wang fics even exist on here? Well, here's one.
"Dearest old man, on this most joyous occasion of your birthday, I bring forth a small token of my affection."  
You call out teasingly in an over the top accent, and carefully place the delicate porcelain plate onto the table, adorned with a magnificent gourmet cupcake, a tropical wonder, complete with a sparkler glowing brightly at its center. The chocolate syrup on top of the plate spells out a heartfelt message from the resort staff,  
"Happy 29th Birthday, Jackson Wang from China." 
His face lights up with an infectious grin as he reads the message out loud.  
"Ah, that's definitely me," he exclaims, reaching out to blow the sparkler out like a candle. But to his surprise, it doesn't extinguish. He shakes it slightly and turns to you. 
"It burns for twenty-nine seconds, because that's how old you are," you quip with a mischievous glint in your eye. 
He looks at you in wonderment, his brows furrowing in confusion. "How do they get it to last exactly twenty-nine seconds?" he asks, genuinely curious. 
You chuckle, knowing he's fallen for your playful trick. "They don't," you say, picking up the remaining sparkler and pushing the plate towards him. "You just believe anything I tell you." 
He rolls his eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Now that's a lie. I don't believe 99.9% of what comes out of that pretty mouth of yours." With a cheeky grin, he dips his finger into the icing and taps your nose, before bringing it to his lips to savor the delicious taste. 
“Thanks for thinking of me, baby.” he murmurs in a gentle tone, his eyes fixated on the delectable dessert before him. 
The soothing sound of the rain pouring down through the dense Amazonian trees provides a tranquil ambiance. The floor-to-ceiling windows showcase the lush rainforest, with mist creeping up from the warm forest floor. You observe him as he peels off the cupcake paper, sinking his teeth into its side. The coconut shavings crumble onto his exposed tattooed torso. He brushes the crumbs off his skin, just below his navel, where his gray sweatpants meet his briefs, emitting a soft rustling sound. Tilting his head to the side, he takes another bite, letting out a satisfied "mm" at the delectable taste. 
He glances over at you, oblivious to how enraptured you had become with his reaction. "Wanna try?" he offers, extending the cupcake towards you. However, you wave your hand, declining the tropical delight. 
"I hate coconut flavored stuff," you make a face in distaste. 
"Really? Since when? Why didn't I know that?" he queries, taking another bite and shaking his head to brush away the strands of chestnut brown hair from his face. 
“Because thankfully, you’ve never fucked up royally enough to get me coconut flavored anything; and I love you all the more for it.” As you rise from your seat, you feel the cool, marble floor beneath the balls of your feet, and make your way over to the Bluetooth speaker. The room is sparsely furnished, and the sound of mellow Afrobeat mixed with R&B piano and the soothing notes of steel pans fills the air. 
Suddenly, you feel something cold and flat pressed against your lower back, just above the curve of your hips. You look up at his reflection in the mirror, both of your gazes locking before your eyes fall to the bottle of patron silver he was conveniently using you as a table for; oh but Jackson’s a gentleman, he’s got himself pressed up against your ass, and your ample thighs; he’s keeping you nice and steady while he expertly pours a shot, which he sets down with a satisfying "clink" on the nearby table. 
Jackson's second attempt at pouring is a bit messier, causing droplets of the cool liquid to splash against your warm skin, and you slightly jump at the feeling.  It was the way the bottom half of your cheeks jiggled from underneath your shorts, however, that earned you a firm grasp and smack as he throws his shot back, relishing in the sight of your body responding to his touch. With a mischievous grin, he leans down to lap up the stray droplets from your lower back as you blissfully sigh from how good he was pressing all your buttons. 
“Take your shot, I wanna test somethin’.” 
He takes a step back, and you slowly stand up, tossing back the tequila before turning around to face him. 
“Hear me out, try chasing with it.” He walks over to the table, and you admire the flexion in his back muscles as he moves.  He picks up the cupcake, undeniably sexy as he licks it off his finger.  He can tell he’s got you right where he wants you, your eyes never leave him. 
“Chasing tequila, with a coconut cupcake?  You’re gonna have to show me, ‘cause it’s not sounding too appealing yet.” 
“I’m glad you asked, lie down for me sweetheart, let me show you exactly what I mean.” 
As you crawl onto the plush mattress, Jackson follows suit, climbing on top of you. The sight of him, flushed from the drinks he had earlier, is enough to make your heart skip a beat. He chuckles at your confusion, but how could you not be confused? He's holding a half-eaten cupcake in one hand and a bottle of tequila in the other, straddling your body. But despite the mischievous glint in his eye, you can't help but find him utterly irresistible. In this remote, remarkable place, far away from the rest of the world, he has you all to himself, and he's clearly up to no good. 
"Hold this for me," he says, handing over the cupcake. As you take it, he takes a thick swipe of icing from the dessert. He pushes the bottom of your tank top up just enough for the bottom of your breasts to peek out from under the black, scrunched fabric. 
"Jackson, what are you--" you start to ask, but he interrupts you as he paints a straight line of icing down the midline of your stomach, stopping right at your navel. His eyes hold your gaze captive as he slips his finger with the remaining icing between your lips.  
As you obediently suck on his finger, feeling the curve of his knuckle and the lines dividing his long digit into printed pads, he lets out a satisfied laugh and proudly declares,  
"I thought you hated coconut flavored shit?" 
You take his finger further into your mouth, coaxing it in with your tongue. Despite your initial reservations, you can't deny the pleasure you feel from this. He pulls his hand away from your oral fixation with a scoff and a smirk. Taking a swig of tequila, he looks down at you like you're his next biggest conquest.  
Aries men have a thing for that – a conquest. 
He dips his tongue into your navel, licking the sweet trail all the way up to where your shirt is bunched up. You gasp, propping yourself up on your elbows and looking down at him knowingly. "You know exactly what you're doing," you say. 
"I'm teaching you how to broaden your palate," he responds smoothly, wasting no time in taking the cupcake back from you and exchanging it with the bottle of tequila instead.   
The cool air circling in the room feels extra sensitive on the wet skin of your stomach, and it turns your nipples into erect, sensitive nubs, poking proudly through the thin fabric of your tank.  You push yourself up a little more, so you can sit up straight.   
You look up at him as he holds the cupcake out for you to take a sample from.  You swipe your finger in the thick, buttercream icing, and your eyes dance down his chiseled torso, deciding where you were going to take this experiment. 
Your body is trembling with anticipation as you slide your fingers over the waistband of his briefs, feeling the heat radiating from his body. You lean in closer, the scent of his cologne mixed with the faint aroma of tequila and cupcakes filling your senses. Your tongue traces the trail of soft, delicate hairs leading down from his belly button, savoring the sweet taste of his skin. 
You slowly trace a thick line just above his navel, reveling in the way his muscles twitch under your touch. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, his skin flushed and warm from the tequila. You trail the icing down his smooth, taut stomach, disappearing into the waistband of his briefs. 
You can't resist the urge to pull them down just a little, just enough to expose the tempting V-line leading down from his abs. With a steady hand, you spread the remaining icing right where you want it. Jackson watches you with dark, intense eyes, his breaths coming in ragged. 
Jackson’s eyes flicker with surprise and desire as he helps you by tugging at the sides of his pants, pulling them down even further. The sight of his hardness tenting the front of his sweatpants, the print pushing through the slate grey of his briefs, is almost too much for you to handle. He's always had an aura of mystery and excitement about him, and the way he's looking at you now only adds to his allure.  
He sets the cupcake aside and lifts your face up to meet his gaze, you can feel your cheeks heat up under his intense stare. His hand under your chin is firm, holding you steady, but his touch is gentle. You can see the lust in his eyes, but there's also a hint of tenderness there. 
"Give me the tequila, baby," he says, his voice low and husky. You hand him the bottle, your fingers brushing against his as you do. His tongue darts out to swipe over his lower lip, and you feel weak in the knees. 
With a little squeeze of your chin, he prompts you to open your mouth, and you do so eagerly. You can feel the warmth of his body as he moves in closer, his hips tilted towards you. He's always found you uniquely stunning, in a way that appealed to him on a primal level, and right now, it's as though he can't resist the urge to explore every inch of you.  
As you wait, your breath catching in your throat, Jackson's gaze flickers over your face and down to your lips, before he takes a long swig of the tequila first.  He swishes it around in his mouth before swallowing, and he pours a stream of it into your open mouth, letting go and allowing you to cringe as you push it down your throat.  You quickly stick your tongue out, desperate to get rid of the alcohol taste.  You grab his pants, pulling him closer and licking the buttercream trail from his skin.  You pull his briefs down, maybe a little too enthusiastically, to get to the rest, and his stiff cock springs out.  The head is red, smeared with clear pre-cum that had oozed out while he was toying with you earlier. 
As soon as you felt the cool liquor pass your lips, your mouth began to water. You take him in, savoring the feel of him filling your mouth. His substantial length stretches you, and you wrap your lips around him tightly, feeling every ridge and vein as you slide him deeper into your mouth. As your tongue flattens against the bottom of his cock, he hisses at the sensation, his brows knit together in pleasure. His eyes close, and he accidentally holds his breath, lost in the feeling of your mouth on him. 
"Damn, babe," he groans, his voice thick with desire. You can feel him growing harder inside your mouth, and you can't resist sliding your hand down to his base, following the thick curve of your lips with every suck. "Keep doing that, God, it feels so good," he pleads, his hips thrusting gently towards your mouth.   
He probably shouldn’t, but he takes another shot anyway.  He really does want to set the bottle down, but he can’t peel himself from between your pretty lips just yet.  The way your intensity climbs as the liquor kicks in, you take his balls gently in your hand, using all the saliva that had pooled as lubrication to massage them. 
His moans of pleasure fill the room, each one more intense than the last. With his hand covering his face and his other tightly gripping the tequila bottle, it was clear that he was completely lost in the moment. The air was thick with a heady mix of profanity, grunts, and gasps, all signaling his overwhelming pleasure.   
“H-Hold on, hold on—” Jackson somehow finds the inner strength to breathe, to stop you from taking him directly off the edge a lot sooner than he had originally planned.  He drops his hand, revealing his handsome face again.  He stares at you with a look of utter desire and adoration, his eyes glazed over with pleasure. Beads of sweat drip down his forehead, his hair mussed and sticking to his skin in all the right places. His lips are parted, panting softly as he struggles to regain control of his senses. 
His body is a work of art, every muscle defined and chiseled to perfection. The veins in his arms and neck pulse with intensity, a testament to the overwhelming sensations coursing through him. He looks like a god, a vision of pure masculinity and strength. 
You can see the raw passion in his eyes, the way they fixate on you with such intensity that it makes your heart skip a beat. It's a look that says he wants you more than anything in the world, and nothing else matters in this moment. 
“I wanna fuck you,” 
He breathes out, pointing to the oversized window across from the bed. 
“In the rainforest.” 
☾ -- fin
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kpopimaginings · 1 year
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Family Man - Jackson Wang
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A/N: I got a request about Jackson getting married and having a family and it gave me an excuse to write this little scenario.
Jackson was, and had always been, an incredibly hard worker, this was something you knew when you agreed to date him. There were times you'd be left home alone while he worked, and when you had then got engaged you didn't expect this to change. However, as your relationship had grown more and more serious you were being invited to more work events with him. After you married, you were essentially a full-time wife. Jackson had urged you to quit your job in favour of travelling the word with him. What you hadn't expected was for him to announce he was taking a hiatus from music when you found out you were expecting your daughter, Ellie.
Very quickly his world came to revolve around the tiny human the two of you had made together. He couldn't stop himself writing music and did manage to come up with a whole new albums worth of material inspired by his girls, but he kept his work close to home. By the time he was ready to tour again, your baby was a walking, talking toddler and the two of you were going along with him.
You had your doubts at first, thinking that touring with his family was going to be difficult or distracting, but Jackson made it work. You would normally take Ellie exploring, letting her see the world and learn new things, until one day, Jackson approached you with a different plan.
So, that evening you found yourself side of stage with Ellie in your arms, a pair of large yellow headphones to block the sound. With a good luck kiss from each of you, Jackson took to the stage.
There was something strange about seeing him perform again. You hadn't watched him since finding out you were pregnant, so being there again, with your daughter in your arms felt really special. You had worried she would be bored or wouldn't react well, but she was thoroughly engrossed in watching her father perform.
At a break in the set list, Jackson grabbed his handheld mic and addressed the audience. "Now, you guys won't know this, but tonight is a really special show for me, as there is someone here I'd like to introduce you to."
He quickly ran to the side of the stage to where you were. "Can I take her?" he asked you.
"If she wants you to," you replied. You knew full well that Jackson's Instagram was full of the two of you, so it's not like she was a secret.
"You wanna come with Daddy, angel?" he asked, holding his arms out. She very happily leaned towards him and you passed her over.
"Everyone," he said back into his mic. "This is my very special guest tonight, Ellie Wang. Ellie, do you want to say hi?"
He held the mic in front of her and she leant in towards it. "Hi!" she said happily with a little wave.
You heard some cheers and coos from the audience.
"Good girl," Jackson said, placing a kiss on her cheek. "This is the first time Ellie has been to one of my shows, so I'm super excited to have her here. Are you having fun?" he added looking back to her.
"Yeah, I'm with Mummy," she told the mic in front of her, sounding delighted by the whole thing.
"Do you wanna go back to her?" he asked, but she shook her head before burying her face in his shoulder.
He chuckled and continued to talk to the crowd while bouncing her, asking if they followed him on Instagram and telling little stories behind some of his photos.
"Ok," he said eventually, "Daddy needs to sing again, so it's time to go back to Mummy. Can you say goodbye to all my friends here?"
This time there were no words from her, but she did continue to wave until they reached you again.
Jackson had the biggest grin on his face as he passed Ellie back you. "I love you, girls."
"We love you too, now get back out there," you told him, before urging your daughter to clap for him as he went back.
As if you weren't already proud enough of your husband, watching the way he so seamlessly slid from dad, to husband, to performer, you knew that this was going to work. He could be 'Jackson Wang from China' and your family man.
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NAVIGATION  |  GOT7 MASTERLIST
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elphiej · 2 months
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Be My Light - Chapter 10: An Act of Trust
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*Genre: Mafia, Angst, Slow burn, eventual smut
*Warnings: Mentions of drugs, language, anxiety
Authors Note: How has it been so long? It's been a bit of a tough time but I have returned to my happy place. I hope you enjoy this look into the Magic Shop. I copy and paste the Tag List, so for those who no longer wish to be in it, I completely understand. Please just message me and I'll remove you. For any new interested readers who would like to be apart of the Tag List, same thing. Please just be patient with me. I'm on new any depressants and will be trying my very best to keep up with this. No matter what, I will never stop this fic and I will try my best to make any wait worth it. Feel free to drop a like, comment, or anything. Also posted on AO3 under the same name, Enjoy!
Tag list: Tag list: @lolalalooo, @bangtan-sonyeonddaeng, @barbikatherine,  @mrsfortune1306, @lovesick-heart0, @iamnamjoonsbxtch, @deathkat657, @deeepvibes, @sugamonster22, @weiinihao, @hemmofluke, @rainbow-zebra-unicorns, @joyfullyobsessed-blog, @elvencantation, @thefreddieman, @whateveritis616, @crewzie-chan, @wyomingphantom, @killbillv1, @kyrah-williams, @utterlynutters, @ot7jellostan, @zahraaelamira, @shesaysweirdthings, @toriluvsfics, @emu007, @zae007live​
Chapter 10: An Act of Trust.
            This is incredible, you found yourself repeating as you followed Taehyung through the Magic Shop.
            The mansion was the prime example of the phrase ‘never judge a book by its cover’. Though, if you were being completely honest, Bangtan had shown many examples of that phrase the more you were around them. Where the outside of the Magic Shop was foreboding, broken, and cold, the inside was warm, modern, and inviting. And so well maintained. For a group of young men, the place was immaculate. You thought back to when Jin and Jungkook had cleaned your apartment on the first night and decided that you really shouldn’t be surprised. As you looked about the passing rooms, they were beautifully decorated in a modern style that really complimented everyone and the structure.
            Taehyung had, first, led you down the spiral staircase under the front foyer into what you assumed were the old service areas. Now, it was an expansive garage lined with a vast variety of vehicles. You recognized the truck that Jin had driven you home in, the silver sports car that Taehyung had picked you up in that first day, and the town car that you had just been in. Heuning Kai waved at the two of you from his place by the town car, polishing it to look as new. You looked down the rows in awe. As you took in the fleet of cars, you started to understand that you had vastly underestimated how much money Bangtan must have had. But were all of these bought or were they spoils of the job? Or were some of them stolen? You were really trying not to think so poorly of your hosts, but could it really be helped?
            “Nice, huh?” Taehyung crossed his arms with pride as he leaned against a very nice looking black two-door car. He nodded over towards the familiar pickup truck. “That was the first truck we bought back in the early days. We lived off of cheap ramen and stolen veggies, but it was worth it. Jin put a lot of hardware into it over the years. He stayed up a lot of nights reading mechanic books to make it work for us. Now we’re able to hire mechanics who will follow whatever design and dream he can think up to help us. Like bulletproof glass and exteriors, homing beacons, storage and seats that fold down so we can use the space for anything. They, even, have this feature that sends an alert to all of our phones if the vehicle’s ever in an accident so we can get to each other.”
            “I suppose Jin thought of everything, didn’t he?”
            “Yeah,” Taehyung smiled a huge boxy grin. “Jin-hyung is all about keeping us safe. He’s like the mom of our family. He’s always taken such good care of us.”
            As your eyes roamed across the row of vehicles, your eyes caught sight of a sleek, black motorcycle in the farthest corner of the garage. You had always wanted to ride on one ever since one of Amber’s friends came by the hospital to show his new one off. But you had always been too scared to ask to ride along; working in the ER would do that to a person.
            “Like that? That’s Jungkookie’s, He always wanted one. And Yoongi-hyung and Jiminie bought it for him as a graduation present to encourage him to finish school. He was so excited when he went to go pick it out. It’s his favorite thing. Seems like you like it too. I’m sure if you ask him, he’d take you on a ride. As long as he doesn’t combust from shyness. I’d suggest you wait until you’ve been around him more before you ask him.”
            “Oh no,” you said, turning back towards Tae. “I don’t think that would be very smart. Do you know how many cases in my ER are from motorcycle accidents? I wouldn’t dream of it.” You were sure by the look on Taehyung’s face that he could hear the disappointment in your tone as you tried to fool yourself.
            He smiled. “You know that is the same argument that Jin-hyung said when it was brought home. But I know I have a picture of them riding on it together.”
            Taehyung, then, led you out of the garage. As you ascended the spiral stairs back into the front foyer, you were taken down the hallway where Namjoon had appeared towards the kitchen. The hallway was lined with what looked like framed family portraits of Bangtan throughout the years. There were some of them all together dressed all nice, and a few of them in random units posed in fun ways. It was interesting to see how they grew and changed over the years. But it was, also, sad to see how young they were. You paused in front of what appeared to be their first family photo. Where the other photos were in suits or business casual attire, their first picture looked as if they had watched too many hip-hop music videos. Dressed in fake basketball jerseys and hats, or in layered phony designer shirts and too much eyeliner, they looks so young and inexperienced. You almost didn’t recognize Namjoon with his crazy hair and dark glasses, or Jimin with his very tanned skin and shaggy black hair. And Jungkook looked like he had barely started puberty with his round doe-eyes. It really made you wonder what could cause such young kids to turn to gang life. Yoongi and Namjoon you understood since Yoongi had explained his side to you. But were all their stories the same? You had to figure out how to ask them.
       The kitchen looked like it belonged to a showroom with top-of-the-line appliances set against stunning marble counter tops. You imagined this is what a world class chef would want. It was beyond clean and spacious with a large capacity refrigerator and freezer, a fully stocked wine cabinet that almost reached the ceiling, a huge stove and dual ovens, and a large island that could be used for anything. Off the main part, set against a large set of windows that overlooked a courtyard in the middle of the Magic Shop, was a cozy breakfast nook and a fully stocked coffee bar that could meet the needs of the pickiest of coffee drinkers. There were a few different machines for different types of coffee, syrups, stirrers, and different sugars. The enticing smell of whatever Namjoon had made still permeated the room.
            The only thing that was missing was the staff to man such a space. Perhaps they had the morning off?
            Taehyung opened up the fully stocked cabinets, pantry, and fridge to show off their contents and told you to that you would help yourself to anything whenever you wanted.
            “We always make extra so you can have whatever. Or, if you would rather cook something for yourself, by all means. But since one of us will be with you, we may offer to do it.”
            “You all cook?” You remembered the amount of food Jin had ordered the first night for you and figured that’s what they did regularly.
            “Some of us do,” he remarked with a shrug. “Namjoon-hyung can only really make coffee. And my skills are a bit limited. But the others are really good at it. We always leave leftovers if we are out late on missions for the other. We try to have family dinner when we are all together. And we talked about letting you come too, since you’ll be here for a while. If you want, that is. But trust me, you’re gonna want to.”
            “So, you make your own food? I would expect a place like this would come with a fleet of cooks since you all would be…busy.”
            Taehyung laughed. “You would think so. But we are pretty self-sufficient. Other than our hired Army, we don’t really have a staff full time. I mean, there are two mechanics that come to tune up the cars every month, a couple ladies who come in to do a deep clean every three months or so, and Jin brings in a couple helpers once in a while when he’s stuck in whatever he’s working on. But that’s only a very few very trusted people. They’re all older locals though who we’ve helped over the years, so we know they won’t betray us. It’s just safer if we keep it low. When we bring in new people, it’s blind like how we did with you. Not that we don’t trust you. I mean…” Taehyung started trying to figure out how to better explain it.
            “It’s alright. I understand. I am a stranger to you guys. Despite how many card games I’ve beat you at or coffee dates you take me on.” You smiled as your little joke seemed to ease the tension. “It makes sense really. It’s better to be cautious. If anything happens to me, I wouldn’t be able to say anything even if I could.”
            “Hey,” Tae brought his hand to your shoulder, face very serious, “nothing is going to hurt you here. I trust you. Call it my superpower, but I can read people really well. All the years on the street do that to a person. You are a good person. Otherwise, we would have blindfolded you before you stepped out of the car. Everyone agreed to welcome you in our home not just because of all you’ve done for Hyung. We could have just set you up in a safe house if I thought you were up to something.”
            You were sure he was being genuine with you. He did seem like he was going very beyond the bare minimum he needed to do had it been some other person. You knew he was trying to make you feel safe and comfortable in this whole situation. They were doing so much for you, you just needed to allow yourself to relax and not think about all the other things. You tried to ignore the dark cloud that kept coming up the second you started to forget their profession and focus on the person.
            From the kitchen, you were lead to the outside courtyard. It must have been intended to be a beautiful event space in its conception. There were moss covered statues, an elegant fountain surrounded by ivy covered iron benches, and beautiful plants that brought so much color to the space. Above, there was a façade that looked like a tapered roof covered in ripped tarps that Tae explained let in a lot of light and rain but kept anyone or thing from seeing inside. Bangtan had really thought of everything to keep the Magic Shop secret. Across the courtyard and through another door, you were shown an impressive gym with an attached studio that Taehyung explained was used for combat training, dance practice, or anything they wanted. Next to that was a shower, steam room, and a large indoor swimming pool. All of which was fair game for you to use if you wanted to.
            After that, the excited man showed you what he deemed ‘the living space’. Up the stairs to the second floor, there was a massive formal dining room, a small library that you really wanted to explore, a small infirmary, a game room, and some office used for whatever they wanted to work on privately. He pointed to another staircase and mentioned that some of their bedrooms were up on the third floor and so were Namjoon’s and Yoongi’s personal workspaces. Jin’s workspace was in the basement, while Jungkook’s room and personal gaming room was on the attic floor with Taehyung’s art studio. There was so much space in this house that you began to wonder if there was a map so you wouldn’t get lost. Before you could try to remember how to get back to the last room, you found yourself in an expansive living room. You figured this may be where you’d be spending a majority of your time. The room was open design with a massive L-shaped couch that seemed like it could fit more than seven, sleek coffee tables, two elegant armchairs with oversized ottomans, and a few beanbag chairs stacked in a corner. Mounted to the wall was a huge flat screen television and on either side of it where towering shelves full of movies, tv series, music, and video games to last a lifetime. There were multiple gaming consoles stacked neatly on top. And on the far wall, there was a small mini fridge, a cupboard with snacks, and a small bar. It was homely and comfortable.
            “We spend a lot of our down time together in here,” Taehyung said, smiling at your awed expression. “It’s probably one of my favorite rooms, besides my bedroom.”
            “I can see why. It has pretty much everything in here. It’s bigger than my apartment. Well, this house is so large it’s a wonder how you can find anyone in here. I still haven’t seen Jimin, Jungkook, or Jin. I feel like I could walk right past them in here and never know it.”
            “Well, Jin is on the basement level working on something. We won’t need to go down there. There is nothing there that’d interest you. Honestly, it’s a bit more confusing to get down there anyway so just try to stay on the first two floors. But. he’ll come up for lunch in a while. Since I didn’t see Jungkook in here or the gym, my guess is that he is probably still in his room. He was up late last night playing video games and is most likely still sleeping. But if ever in doubt, always start looking for him in the gym or where his games are. As for Jimin, I’m not sure where he is. He was excited for you to come to the Magic Shop. I thought he would meet us in the front or outside. That was his plan anyway. Something might have come up. I’m sure we’ll see him at lunch. Oh yeah, there’s someone else I want you to meet. Now, where is he?”
            Suddenly, while you were distracted by some of the framed, less staged photos on the wall, something small and fuzzy ran across your foot. You shrieked and it took everything in your body to keep from kicking at whatever it was as you fell back into one of the armchairs. Taehyung let out a loud laugh that filled the space and had him holding his sides.
            “Tannie! There’s my baby boy.” You turned over the chair to watch him stoop over and pick up a small black and brown Pomeranian puppy. The puppy yipped happily and gave his owner sloppy kisses that Tae returned. “I was wondering where you had gotten off too. Such a silly boy. You shouldn’t scare our guest like that. She’s a nice girl, the one I told you about. Say you’re sorry.”          
            The puppy let out a big yawn. You weren’t sure if that was the apology Taehyung was expecting.
            “Sorry, I didn’t mean to react like that. I’ve been a bit jumpier than usual. I wasn’t expecting such a tiny thing to come running at me. You guys never mentioned that you had a dog.”
            “I didn’t? That doesn’t sound like me. I could have sworn I had talked about him a few times back in the hospital.” If you were honest, he might have. But there were plenty of times when you were fighting your many battles about trusting them that you tuned out most of the conversations. “This is Yeontan. He’s only eight months old. You don’t mind dogs, do you?”
            “No, I like all animals. He’s very cute,” you pushed off from the chair and stepped a bit closer. When Taehyung held the small dog out to you, you reached over and lightly scratched him behind his fuzzy ear. Yeontan let out a happy noise and licked your hand. You laugh a bit. “He’s so sweet. But I’ll be honest. I would never have suspected someone like you to have such a tiny dog.”
            “Oh, sure. I get that. Jungkookie keeps saying we should get a Doberman as a guard dog. That would definitely fit our image better. But I could never replace Tannie. He’s all mine.” Taehyung hugged the puppy close, and it warmed your heart. “I’ve always wanted a little dog ever since I was a kid. But a bad home life made it difficult. But all the guys pulled together and helped me get this little guy as a present. And I sold a few pieces in order to save up for classes so I could better take care of him. I wanted to be the best owner for him.”
            The way that Taehyung spoke and interacted with the dog was such a juxtaposition to the wicked mafia persona you had figured hid beneath. It was so cute that you could only wonder if someone would ever treat you with the same amount of affection. Had you not known about that side of his life, you’d swear he was just this lovable guy with a large heart. Though, something he had said gave you pause.
            “Save up? I feel like you all have more money than I can even imagine. I mean,” you made a grand gesture to the room, “why would you need to save up for anything?”
            “I’m sure it seems that way. Sure, we’re pretty well off. But when we first started, we were so poor, we didn’t have enough money to eat. We stole from the gas station just to eat once a day. And when we started out, we were nobodies, so it wasn’t like we were making anything. Whatever we did earn from gang activities went to important things like medicine and renting a room for the night, so we didn’t have to sleep on the street. Then, it went towards necessities, like weapons for protection or clothes so we wouldn’t freeze in the winter. Or bail when we got caught by the police. So, to ensure we would be able to make it and not be picked off by the other gangs, we got day jobs. Namjoon worked the gas station we stole from to make it up to the old man who owned it, Yoongi-hyung was a delivery boy, and Hobi-hyung and Jimin worked at a dance studio. Kookie and I found ways to help. The only one who had any money was Jin-hyung. His family was loaded. When I first met Jin-hyung, before I met the others, he was a student, and I was a street kid just trying not to go home. I saw him at a bus stop I used to tag all the time. He said my work was cool and just like a puppy, I started hanging around him. He fed me and even tried to teach me what he was learning since I dropped out. Then we met the others and Jin-hyung was using his money to help us. But when his father learned who he was hanging around, he cut him off. Until he was able to black mail his father.”
            “But,” Taehyung continued, seeing how off topic he was getting, “the point was, we always had other ways to get money that weren’t gang related. Even now, as big as we are, we still have little side jobs we do. It breaks up the monotony and gives us a little bit of an escape. What we earn from gang activities belongs to Bangtan; the upkeep of the house, paying Army, hospital bills, and our equipment. Anything we earn from our side hustle is ours for our own pleasure. That dance studio that Jimin and Hobi-hyung worked at, they now own. Jungkookie competes in videogame competitions and films himself playing games on the internet. Jin continues his family business, without his actual family. And Namjoon-hyung and Yoongi-hyung did music underground back in the day before all the gang stuff, and they still do. They write and produce demos and sell them. You’ve probably heard a few of their stuff. And we all help them sometimes. We joke that if we weren’t in this line of work, we’d probably be a world-renowned band. Funny huh?”
            Wow, you thought as you tried to process what he had just told you. There is so much more to these guys than I thought. How can they be this down to earth?
            “And what do you do?”
            “I told you that I used to be a street artist, right? Nothing too special; just tagging and doing funny graffiti. But the others really inspired me to keep going. Hell, Namjoon got arrested with me when I was attempting to improve some offensive street art someone left outside one of our favorite places just because he wanted to see me improve myself. Now, I’ve moved to a bunch of different mediums; I’ve tried charcoal, photography, drawing, and painting. I took all of those pictures,” he said pointing to the walls. “It’s pretty easy to find a muse when you have a great support system. Here let me show you some of my pieces.” He took your hand and led you out of the living room with a bounce in his step.
            He took you up the stairs and to his art room. You were fairly positive that this was not supposed to be part of the tour since this was where their more private spaces were. But the look on Tae’s face when he showed you his art room was enough to show you that he was very excited to show off his work to you. The room had hardwood floors and walls covered with different sizes of framed pictures of different famous artists that he admired. The room was loaded with supplies like stacks of canvases, drawing supplies and paints, different cameras, and drop clothes to protect the floor. There was a small couch and chairs that you recognized from some of the family portraits. He went over to a desk and grabbed a book. It was labeled Vante, which you remember used to be his street artist name before he shortened it to V for his gang related work. He flipped through the book and handed it to you when he found what he was looking for. There were pictures of different art pieces he had made. Each page had photos of the progression and the finished product with handwritten notes next to it as to when it was sold and for how much. The numbers made your eyes widen. There were things that you would expect to see in a museum. You were speech-less.
            He grabbed your hand once again and led you out of the studio and into the hallway. There were some more pieces hanging throughout the hallways, those he wouldn’t part with. There was one that was so breathtaking; it was a black and gray background, with a single light source from up center. In the center of the spotlight was a dancer clad in white, whose body was carved through shadows and face shown pale in the light, eyes closed in a serene way as if he was lost in the music you couldn’t hear. His arm was extended up to the light like a ballet dancer, so graceful. His hair, a steely blue, and the gathering shadows accentuate his sharp yet delicate features. And the more you looked at it, the more you began to realize that you had seen this person before.
            It was Jimin.
            As you were led to more art pieces, you started to realize that Taehyung had used Bangtan in many of them. They were breath taking. Not only were they all so good-looking, but the way Taehyung painted or photographed them made them look otherworldly. Near the end of a staircase that would lead to the top floor back to the floor some of their bedrooms could be found on, you found yourself stopped in front of what you came to realize was your favorite. It was a black and white photo made to look like a painting. There were seven people in front of a white background that looked like hands reaching out for each other. Five of the seven were leaning on each other, hunched over in a dramatic way. In the center were the final two, both with their arm up, one reaching for the sky and the other grasping the first wrist afraid to slip and let go. It was so simple yet complex, so artistic. You weren’t sure how long you were staring at it until Taehyung’s voice cut through your thoughts.
            “I was commissioned to make this for someone. But when it was done, I couldn’t part with it. The others loved it too. They hated that I was supposed to sell it to someone who wouldn’t understand it. So, Yoongi-hyung paid the commissioner for it, three times what he was going to pay me for it. Said he didn’t care how much the man wanted for it. It meant so much to us that it was priceless. Yoongi-hyung says it’s his favorite. I think it’s yours too.”
            “It’s so beautiful. You are truly an amazing artist.”
            “I have some great muses.”
            Taehyung and you stood there in silence a bit more before the silence was broken by someone coming out of one of the rooms. It was Hoseok. He looked a bit disheveled and breathless as if he had just run a mile, hair no longer sleek and tidy. He closed the door softly and turned with a grin, licking his lips in some sort of victory. He clapped his hands together and started down the hall with a hop in his step.
            He froze when he saw the two of you looking at him. “Umm...” he started nervously, “what are you two doing up here?”
            Oh right, I’m probably not meant to be up here. That’s why he’s confused. You turned your eyes back to the floor and your shoulders started to hunch. You didn’t want to intrude on their space. You were just following Taehyung and thought it was okay. But it would seem like not everyone was alright with his idea.
            Tae noticed the change in your posture and was having none of that, especially after he worked so hard to get you out of your shell to begin with. “I told you I was going to show her around the house. I was showing Y/N some of my artwork in my studio and figured I would show off the good ones. She really likes this one. I can’t say I blame her.”
            Hobi looked over at the painting. “Oh yeah, it is pretty. But don’t you have a copy of it in your phone you could have shown her? I thought we were just gonna keep it to the ground floors until Namjoon-.”
            “I’m sorry,” you said, arms wrapping around yourself in a nervous way. “I’m not trying to intrude. I wouldn’t have come up here unless Taehyung had brought me.”
            Hoseok noticed the way your hand clenched at your clothes and how you didn’t look at him in the face. And suddenly, he felt bad. “Shit, I didn’t mean it like that. I was just surprised. We normally don’t have people up here. I wasn’t expecting you. I don’t care if you come up here. Just as long as you don’t go into any rooms without permission.”
            “Well, of course she won’t, hyung. You see how nervous she is just at the thought of intruding. I just didn’t want her sitting in one room all day. Jeez, she’ll probably be hanging on the first two floors anyways. That’s where all the fun is.”
            Hobi threw his hands up in defeat. “Alright, Taehyungie, I get it. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. Y/N, I’m sorry. I was just surprised. It’s been a long morning.” You nodded your head in confirmation.
            “Now to a better point. What were you doing?” Taehyung fixed his hyung with an accusing look and a smirk from behind you. As if I can’t guess.
            Hobi frowned back at Taehyung before pushing his hand through his hair to tidy himself back up. “I was making sure Hyung went to rest and not back to work. You know how Yoongi-hyung can be when he’s away from his screens. He took some convincing but he’s asleep now in his room. And I,” he fished a key from the pocket of his jeans, “stole the key to the Genius Lab so he won’t be tempted to sneak in and work. He should be out for a few hours. He may skip lunch for now, but I’ll make sure he eats before he needs to have his next dosage for you.” He smiled brightly at you. “So, what do you think of the Magic Shop?”
            “It’s incredible. You guys must have really worked hard to make it so beautiful.”
            “Yeah, it took a few years to get right. But it’s been such a great sanctuary for us. Tell you what, I need to go into town for a bit. I’m sure Taehyung has told you about the dance studio if he’s showing off all his side work. I need to pick up Jimin. He apparently was called in this morning to help with some minor things but he’s not feeling too well to drive back alone. But when I get home, I’ll show you something we’ve been working on with the kids in our class. It’s really fun. Then we can all have lunch.” Hobi moved past you two, making sure to greet Tannie with a series of silly voices and pets.
            Taehyung gave his hyung a confused look. “Is Minnie okay?”
            “Yeah, he’s fine. It’s just about the end of the month. I’m sure he’s gonna try to push it off again.” Realization dawned on Taehyung and he smacked his head for overlooking it with everything going on. You didn’t ask what they meant since it really wasn’t your business. Perhaps it was just some stress related thing that focused on his time of the month. You were sure with everything going on, Bangtan must push themselves too far and that leads to poor health. If Jimin was sick, you would be happy to check him out since you were there to be an in-home care. It would give you something else to focus on. The two said goodbye and Hobi dashed down the stairs.
            “Come on, let’s take Tannie out in the courtyard and I’ll show you some more of pieces on the way.
            You happily followed him, chasing after the positive feeling you had earlier. Your anxieties had been growing more difficult to contain. It must be because you weren’t taking your medicine. You were hoping Dr. Na would have been helpful in finding out what it was so you could get back on track. But with everything that happened back at the hospital, you hadn’t been so lucky. You didn’t even turn in the script he had given you for a mild antianxiety medication to take in its place because you were still so mad at him and hurt. And yet, here you were with the people who ruined him for you, acting like they were your friend. All these feelings and emotions were confusing.
            As you arrived back on the second floor and at the landing of the familiar staircase, you both could hear someone walking around, pacing by the sounds of it. At first, you thought it was Hoseok again, but Namjoon’s voice could be heard just a harsh whisper. Whoever he was talking to, he was not happy about something.
            “I can’t believe you are trying to blow me off right now. How is that fair? My family needs security. Didn’t you say it would only take you a few hours? I know I got the dates mixed up but that shouldn’t matter to you. If you haven’t noticed, my family’s been in a bit of chaos recently and you were supposed to help ease some of my tension with information. At least tell me what you do have. What do you mean you aren’t done with your initial check? Why isn’t it done? I’m sure you’re busy, but you owe me!” The closer the two of you got to the stairs, the more you could pick up the frustration in Namjoon’s voice. He walked from a hallway near the bottom of the stairs, phone raised to his ear. He had changed from his morning clothes into a pair of jeans and a blue sweater, something more presentable. He didn’t seem aware of the two of you, so engrossed with his conversation. His eyes were narrow behind his glasses. He was agitated in a way you hadn’t seen since he saved you from Choi the first time. And you were not a fan of seeing him angry. “You said you’d come today and now you’re flaking out on me when I need you? That’s really great, Jackson. No, I am not overreacting. I trusted my gut to a point, but I need hard facts here. I needed them yesterday. Just go with it? Jackson, they’re in my house now, and you’re telling me to go with it?! No, two days is not okay! Don’t make me chase you down, you son of a bitch.” He let out a growl that didn’t fit with his current image. Taehyung didn’t like how mad his leader was getting. The younger knew full well what Namjoon was so angry about and he wished he hadn’t used a flighty character like Jackson to do something Tae could have easily done. But he knew that Namjoon needed an outsider’s opinion. “Fucking fine, how long? You better be here in two days or so help me…,” he let the person on the other end of the phone fill in the blank before he ended the call with a huff.
            Taehyung took the opportunity to clear his throat to announce your presence, which startled Joon more than he would have liked. It took him a second before he let his emotions slip back behind the mask of a calm leader you had come to expect. You were aware that Tae was standing closer to you than before, like he was securing your place next to him.
            “Everything ok, hyung?”
            “Yeah, sorry, didn’t see you there. How much did you hear?”
            “Just you getting mad. But don’t worry, it’s all good.” You gather that Taehyung knew exactly what Namjoon was wanting from this Jackson person but didn’t want to explain it to you. He grabbed your hand with his free one and pulled you down the stairs. “Y/N got to meet Tannie. We know how much he doesn’t like new people and, guess what, he likes her. How great is that? He never likes people other than you guys so quickly. He must know she’s a good person.”
            You weren’t sure what else that was supposed mean, but it made the wheels in Namjoon’s head start to turn. Was that conversation about you? Did he not trust you in his home? Then why had they discussed bringing you here? He had hesitated back when Taehyung had mentioned showing you around the house. You knew they wanted to be careful, but wasn’t it their idea to bring you in? Why would he be so concerned now? You remember that he was supposed to talk to you about it before bringing you here but had forgotten. Was it more than just easing you into this that he wanted to talk about? Maybe this was a mistake? Or were you just overthinking things again?
            “Well, I’m taking Y/N to the courtyard. Don’t let Jackson mess you up. You’re smarter than him anyways. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
            You started to follow Taehyung back down the hall. As you passed, you could tell that Namjoon was struggling with something. If it was about you, you wanted to tell him that you would do whatever made them more comfortable, even if that meant staying in one place like you wanted to with Hoseok. But Taehyung took your hand again and gave it a squeeze, like he knew you were overthinking things again. “Wait a second,” Namjoon said, voice sounding like he had come to a firm decision.
            The two of you stopped and looked back at Bangtan’s leader. He took a deep breath. “Y/N, I’m glad you’re here. And I mean it when I say welcome to our home. This is a bit new for us but considering the circumstances, this is the best option. Jin and I had been talking before about what happens when you come here, and both agree that we want you to be comfortable and not worried about anything. So, that being said, we came to an agreement about something very important. And I’ll let you decide what happens here. I know you said you want us to keep the darker side of our work away from you, and we have tried to respect that as much as possible. Being in our home may make that a bit more challenging. But we are still willing to do that if you want us to. But if you want, this may make being here a whole lot easier and may clear up some of those hesitations about us you may have,”
            You were willing to listen to what he had to say. “What is it?”
            “Yeah, hyung,” Taehyung said, tentatively, unsure of where this was going. “What do you mean? I don’t think we’ve talked about whatever this is.”
            “We haven’t Tae. But Jin-hyung and I talked about it before and based on some gut feelings, this may be for the best for everyone. But it ultimately falls on Y/N to decide. Jin would like to say ‘hello’ to you. He’s in his lab.”
            “Lab?” You had heard them mention a lab many times but you didn’t think that’s what it was. But by the way that Taehyung reacted to and, and how he had mentioned how you wouldn’t want to go down there, made you realize this was more than that.
            “Namjoon-hyung, are you sure about that?”
            He waved Taehyung off. “Like I said, this may make things for you much easier to understand and take some fear of us away. But if you prefer, we can just ignore it fully. But if you are willing, Jin-hyung would like to show you something in his lab. Jin-hyung does a lot of research and is working on something very important that may change how you see us. But it’s important. But if you don’t want to, I’ll understand, and we’ll keep pretending like nothing has changed. I give you control.”
            You hadn’t had much control over the life you could remember. Leaving your ex and choosing to help Bangtan was really the first taste of control you had, and it was still scary. Maybe being in the dark was a good option. But them allowing you to have a say really meant a lot to you. The fear of what you would find out started to be outweighed by the prospect of clarity. But what if they were wrong? Was it better to stay in the dark? You started to wring your hands together. You had already started to change your view of them since Yoongi had talked about his past and Taehyung had showed you things you would have never thought you’d come to see from them. Was that enough to trust that Namjoon was doing what he thought was best? Looking into his eyes, you saw only patience as he allowed you time to process all the thoughts and feelings.
            You took a deep breath. “I hope this goes the way you planned.”
                                       ****************************
            As you followed in step behind Namjoon and Taehyung, with Yeontan held comfortably in the younger’s hand, in a darkened tunnel, you were really hoping that this would go the way Namjoon had hoped. They had taken you from the front foyer where you had started and down the same hall that led to the kitchen. You had been so had been so distracted by the pictures on the wall that you hadn’t noticed that there was an arched door to the left just before you reached the end of the hall. Namjoon pressed his thumb against a scanner on the doorknob and the sound of multiple heavy locks snapped open echoed against the walls. The door swung open to a granite stairway that was dimly lit. Namjoon had explained that this used to take guests down to the old train platform before they renovated it. When they had first taken residence, it had been so ill-kempt and dilapidated that they worried the tunnels would collapse. Most of the platforms and tunnels had been sealed and closed off. And a few that were in good condition were converted into something useful. But the biggest had been designated as Jin’s personal work area. At the bottom of the staircase, you could see the old remnants of the old train tunnels and platforms. The tunnel was dimly lit but you could still see the curve of the arched ceiling, the old support beams, the drop off from the platform to the old rail ways. Claustrophobia started to tighten its fingers around your throat, and your fingers tightened around the strap of your bag in some way to ground yourself. You were sure that anyone who had stumbled into here would have found it abandoned and unsafe. Which, in hindsight, was probably what Bangtan wanted. But you reminded yourself that they wouldn’t put you in danger. And this was supposed to help you.
            Ahead of you, Taehyung and Namjoon were whispering to each other. You were trying not to eavesdrop, but you did catch that Tae seemed worried about this plan. At least he was trying to keep his promise to you and keep you away from things like this. You really did appreciate that and found yourself believing that he really was your friend here. This was a very big deviation from the plan that the two of you had agreed upon a few weeks ago. But something in the way that you caught Namjoon’s plea for the younger to trust him made you want to believe that this was to make everything better. You understood that this was a very big step for them and something that would probably never be taken into consideration. So, this had mean more than you anticipated. You didn’t want to try to imagine what you were being led to. Could it be a scare tactic to make sure you didn’t talk, or something to bribe you? Neither of those fit with the way that Namjoon had presented the option to come down here and you wanted to believe that Taehyung wouldn’t allow it. You took a deep breath to try to refocus your mind on anything else.
            After a bit, as you started to wonder if there was ever an end to this dark tunnel, you could just make out the bricked-up wall that blocked the rest of the way. It was a dead-end, complete with road blockers covered in an inch of dust, caution tape that looked ancient, and crumbling stones. Another façade. Namjoon reached out to one of the broken bricks and pulled it down like it was a lever, which it was, as a door clicked. The door of bricks slid open like some secret passageway in a spy movie revealing a thick wall of steel and a flood of bright light illuminated your shocked face.
            You felt like Alice after she fell down the rabbit hole as you stepped from the dark granite onto sterile white tile. How could you still be in the same place? Taehyung had called it a basement workshop and Namjoon had called it a lab, but this was beyond what you could have imagined based on those descriptions. It was like you had stepped into some blockbuster superhero’s hideaway. The lab was large, larger than the pharmaceutical one at Mercy. There seemed to be sections where different projects were being handled. Stainless steel tables were covered with different lab equipment that looked familiar, vials filled with many different liquids and powders, microscopes of varying sizes and usages, chemical analyzers, and centrifuges of the highest quality. On a wall, there were many canisters of different drugs based on the labels you could make out, many of them you had used in the hospital.  Two people in white lab coats were noting some results of something in a petri dish that you were sure you didn’t want to know what it was. Looking behind the amount of lab equipment, there was a small medical area that looked like a walk-in clinic you had visited once before coming to Central. There was an exam table, stretcher, enough emergency medical supplies that made you feel like you were back in the ER. If they had all of this at their disposal, they surely didn’t really need you around. You remembered Jin had once mentioned he had medical training and took care of the others, but you assumed it was first aid training and not actual medical training.
            On the other side of the room, as clean and as well organized as the lab and medical area, was another workshop that was dedicated to all sorts of different tools and weapons of their trade. There were blueprints for a variety of items pinned to a board with notes and arrows all around them. There were multiple wide touch screens with information and numbers, molds and mockups, knives, guns, and other weapons in different ranges of finishes. You could see three or four dummies that looked as if they had been very well used. One had a vest on with bullet holes in it, another had slashes and stab marks that you dared not think about. Further back, there was what appeared to be a small shooting target lined with thick glass that you assumed was bulletproof to protect the workers. There was another person in a white lab coat and goggles who was working intently on piecing together a handgun. And in the very center of the room, sat a huge computer with four different large, active screens, was Jin. He was dressed sharply, as he always was, complete with a stark white lab coat. A pair of round silver glasses slid down his nose as he scribbled something on a notepad while looked at something dissolving in a yellow liquid. He looked like some handsome yet mad scientist at work. The glow of the screens cast a pale pallor on his skin and you could see a tiredness on his drawn features. Whatever he was working on, he must have been at it for a while, or was stressing him out a bit.
            “Did I somehow stumble into the Batcave?”
            “Feels like that sometimes. Jin-hyung’s like the Korean Bruce Wayne isn’t he,” Taehyung laughed.
            “I think he’d prefer Tony Stark,” Namjoon remarked.
            “Aren’t they the same thing,” you asked.
            “I’ll ignore that since you’re cute, Darling,” Jin called out, never looking from the liquid in the beaker in his hand. “But there is a preferrable difference.”
            Yeontan started squirming in Taehyung’s arms until he was placed on the tile and ran to Jin’s side. The tiny puppy jumped, trying to climb up into his lap, crying out for more attention.
            “Aish,” Jin exclaimed, dropping the beaker on the table, thankfully not breaking. “Taehyung why is Yeontan in my lab?! We talked about this.”
            “But he missed his Uncle Jin so much,” Taehyung smirked.
            Jin rolled his eyes as he scooped up the puppy and made his way over to the three of you. He handed the puppy back to Taehyung after scratching the pup’s tiny head. “Just keep an eye on him. I don’t want to think of what he could get into.” He turned his attention to you, flashing you a warm smile. “Welcome to my lab, Y/N. I’m so glad you decided to join us down here. I promise that you won’t regret it. I was hoping to meet you when you first got here but I’ve been quite busy. I trust Taehyung has shown you the house. Though,” he fixed the younger with a sideways glance, “I see he didn’t show you where to put your stuff down and has made you carry it all this way. I know I have taught you better manners than that.”
            “No, he’s been such a good host. I just never set it down. Actually, it’s been nice to hang onto,” you explained, saving Taehyung from whatever tongue lashing he was about to receive. “It gives my nervous hands something to do.”
            “Ah, well, we do know a bit about anxiety and habits here. Do whatever you need to feel comfortable.” He dusted off his hands and slipped his glasses into the top pocket of his lab coat.
            Up close, Jin looked just as amazing as always. Your hands tightened around the strap of your bag again, just to keep from getting overwhelmed. This was going to be a normal occurrence if they were all going to be here with you. His pink hair was combed back from his face as if he had ran his fingers through it many times while working. He was wearing a white button up shirt with a grey sweater vest, dark trousers, and polished shoes. Somehow, he always looked like he was modeling for something. Though, you did notice a bit of bruising peeking out on his collarbone.
            “Are you okay? It looks like you had some issues with CrossFit too.”
            Jin looked at you with a look of utter confusion. “CrossFit?”
            You nodded. “Yes, Namjoon has one too. He said he got it from doing CrossFit with you. I hope it doesn’t hurt too much.”
            Jin’s eye were drawn behind you to his members, who were silently trying to communicate without drawing your attention. Joon was pointing to the mark on his own neck before making a pleading motion with his hands. Taehyung was trying to communicate their intention with his eyes as much as possible.
            “Oh yeah,” Jin said, slowly, realization striking him before he slid back into his trained persona so not to arise any suspicion from you. “CrossFit. Right. Well, you know how it goes. He crossed me so I did what I saw fit.” From behind you, Namjoon seemed to choke on air and Taehyung tried his best to stifle a laugh. You turned around to see what was going on, completely confused and clearly missing something. But Jin turned your attention back to him. “Don’t worry about me, Darling. My perfect skin may be marred for the moment but I will survive. But thank you for your concern.”
            “Well, it is sort of my job. Though based on what I see, you really don’t need me.”
            “Nonsense! You are a professional, and we could definitely use someone with your delicate touch. Whatever you may need, you can just ask. And if I don’t have it, I will get it for you faster than any hospital could. I know many higher ups in all the companies in the country and they would leap at the chance to get in my good graces.”
            Suddenly, a loud bang ricocheted off the wall and made you scream and drop your bag, spilling its contents all over the floor. Bangtan only moved from your scream. Jin’s hands came up to grasp your shoulders, steadying you and trying to reassure you of your safety. He bend down so he was able to look into your eyes and whispered assurances that you were alright. From behind Jin, the young man who had been dealing with the handgun had finished piecing it together and fired a shot at the target. He looked over at you with a surprised look on his face, not realizing someone new was in the room. Taehyung had already crossed the room and snatched the gun from the younger’s hands and stowing it away. He gave Soobin a pointed look that spoke volumes. Namjoon had stoop down to start retrieving your bag. 
            “Soobin,” Jin yelled over his shoulder, “you didn’t think to look up before you shot that? Or at least put a silencer on it?”
            “I’m sorry, sir,” the youth replied. “I’m really sorry ma’am.” He scrambled away from the work bench and over to you all to assist Namjoon in locating all of your items.
            “I’m sorry, Darling, I really didn’t want something to scare you. My intention was to make this less scary for you. Here, come sit over here. Take a deep breath for me. Taehyung, can you go get her some water? Take another deep breath, Darling. Yes, just like that.”
            “This was a mistake,” you said between breaths, alternating between wringing and shaking your hands to try get the tremors to stop. Your voice was cracking as you tried to keep from crying out of sheer panic. “I shouldn’t have agreed to come in here. Why did you think this would be a good idea? What was the point? To scare me into keeping your secrets?
            “Absolutely not. We would never want to put you through that. We trust that you won’t say anything. This was to shed some light on what we’re actually doing here.”
            Taehyung appeared next to you with a bottle of water, which you graciously took and swallowed half the bottle.
            “Hyungs,” he pleaded, “maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. We wanted her to be comfortable and she asked us to hide this part of us as much as possible.”
            “And we did,” Jin agreed. “Y/N, we tried. And it was easier when it was just going from your place to the hospital and back. But with you being in our house, unless we lock you up in the living room, it’s going to be hard for you not to see some aspect of our work. That’s why Joon and I had this conversation. We thought that after all the time we spent making this relationship with you that you’d trust us enough. And we thought if you saw what we are working on down here, it might clear the air and ease some of these anxieties that still plague you. But we’ve taken an unexpected turn. Just try to relax. You’re still shaking.”
            “I wish I had taken Doctor Na’s offer for some new anti-anxiety medication,” you muttered to yourself, remembering his suggestion in the stairwell. You had a feeling your anxieties were just going to get worse.
            You looked over as Namjoon came to the desk with your bag, all its contents gathered back inside. All except a familiar clear bottle. Your old medication that you had forgotten was in there since the night Doctor Na had followed you into the stairwell after you saw the exchange of U4-1A. The familiar want you felt then of wanting to down that last pill in the bottle and escape world came back. But you didn’t take it then, you didn’t need it now. You wanted nothing to do with that past life anymore. Hell, you only wanted to know what it was so you could find an alternative that wouldn’t remind you of Daniel. But the temptation was strong as Namjoon held it out for you.
            “This is yours, right,” he questioned. “I found it rolled under a table. And it doesn’t look like anything Jin-hyung’s been working on.”
            “It’s mine,” you said as you took it from him. “It’s old medication from my ex-…um, I mean, from my accident. I ran out and Doctor Na was trying to figure out what it was since the label’s been lost. But our hospital pharmacy couldn’t identify it. I forgot to clean out my bag with…everything going on.”
            “May I?” Jin held out his hand for the bottle. You shrugged, handing it to him. He dumped the pill into his palm and started to examine it with the same focused intensity as he had earlier. He made a face. “A generic white pill with no discernable characteristics. And you don’t remember its name?”
            “I don’t remember ever hearing it. I started taking it after I woke up from my accident. The nurse or my ex would just bring it to me. And then, Daniel would get it refilled after that since I couldn’t drive. When I came to Central, I only had what was left in the bottle and had to space it out. I haven’t taken it for a couple weeks now. It’s probably why my anxiety is really bad.”
            “I can find out what it is for you. I guarantee I’ll have more success than some basic pharmacist fresh out of school. I’ve some connections I can talk with to help me analyze it. And,” Jin held up a hand to silence the protest you were about to pose, “these connections are not gang related. Before I became estranged from my family, I was the second heir to the largest pharmaceutical company in all the country. Despite my father’s best efforts, I was very friendly and charming with our specialists and made plenty of valuable connections to help me in the future. So, if anyone can figure out what this is, it’s me.”
            You were stunned into silence. You remember him mentioning medical training and about his father pushing for a different career, but you never imagined he was a part of the Kim Pharmaceutical dynasty. Of course, you had heard of them; all the hospitals pharmacies in the city were stocked with their products, and every doctor read their research reports and trail information. They beat out every other company when it came to advancements in health services. And they were close to celebrity status amongst the papers. You recalled overhearing some pharmacy interns at lunch talking about them. They mentioned that the company was ran by the Senior Mr. Kim, who had been married twice after his first wife passed, leaving him with two sons to take over the company in the next few decades. The oldest was always showing up in the papers. And the second son was said to be away at some foreign school. Which, now knowing that Jin was the second son, was much better for their publicity than saying ‘a part of the most notorious drug dealing, ruthless Mafia families’. You remembered that night in your apartment when Jin had mentioned blackmailing his father for access to his assets. And, looking around at the lab, it seemed to have paid off well.
            As you let the information settle in your mind, you realized that your hands had stopped shaking and your breathing had evened back out. They had successfully distracted you from your panic so your mind could recenter. Well, you recalled, they did say that they had experience with anxiety.
            “Come on, Y/N,” Taehyung said, gently, “let’s head back upstairs. We’ll find something normal to distract ourselves until the others are ready for lunch.”
            “Alright,” you said with a deep sigh, “but, before I have another panic attack here, what was so important that I had to come down here? Just tell me. Please.”
            “Ah, of course,” Jin said, reaching over to a drawer and pulling out a small clear container. Inside, you could see several small, heart -shaped, pink tablets, no bigger than a breath mint. You had seen the news, read the papers, heard the doctors talking about it. That was U4-1A, Euphoria. When the first few cases had started coming into your ER, you were told to check and see if they had those heart-shaped pills on them, though you had never seen them. The distinct pink color was, also, a dead giveaway; it was the same color the user’s irises turned when they were high on the addictively deadly substance. The few times you had been in the room with some of the addicts that Doctor Na was working with, you recalled a rose-colored ring on the edges of their eyes that seemed so unnatural. Your stomach twisted at the thought of Henry taking the drug from Namjoon when he was supposed to be helping people. He couldn’t even deny it. “You know what this is?”
            “Why the hell would you show that to me?! I asked for one thing. I could look past some things, try to ignore things. Like I could ignore the amount of money coming and going. I could ignore the weapons, or any other reminders. But I asked specificity for this not be mentioned.”
            “Darling,” Jin chided in an amused tone, “I just asked what this was.”
            “Are you fucking for real? It’s Euphoria…”
            “Wrong,” Jin interrupted as he reached out and tapped you on the nose, completely taking you off guard and disarming you. “This isn’t Euphoria, or U4-1A. This is Euphoric. U4-1C.”
            Never heard of that. “Okay. So, what? It’s a knock off?”
            Jin looked offended. “A knock off. My dear, like me, it’s an original that others fail to compare to. It is the only one of its kind and so important to the work we do here. And before you insinuate, no, it is not what started this addict epidemic. The ones who have that despicable honor are Ji and the Royals. This” he held it up to you again so you could see it was more closely shaped like a triangle, “is my solution to it. For the past five or six years now, I have been secretly working on a counter agent to make that horrid drug obsolete and save the people who either willing or unwilling were made to take it. This is going to be the antidote. It’s not finished fully. I haven’t been able to fully identify the exact formula the Royals use. And it’s not an instant cure. But introducing this to someone going through withdrawals, instead of to induce a sexual release, the addict would just need to exert themselves another way, like exercise or something else that released the pleasure signal in the brain. It takes a lot of time and constant dosing but I’ve gotten it to where after so long it can be tapered off from every day to once a month, and soon only once every other month. I am making a cure. And we pass it out to those in need. That’s what I wanted you to see. That we aren’t the bad guys. Well… at least not for this.”
            You let his words absorb and you felt like you had been doused with cold water. So, when Hwasa cornered Namjoon in the hallway of the hospital and took something from his pocket and mentioned ‘someone will find your kindness absolutely… euphoric’, she was taking an antidote to someone addict to U4-1A? That means…what Namjoon had given Henry, what Henry had used for his patients, what he couldn’t talk about was that he was accepting a possible progressive treatment for the poor souls in the hospital. He was, indeed, a good person. And you had thought the worst of him. Any time he tried to talk to you, you’d run in the other direction. You blocked his number and deleted any trace in your phone. You had thrown away everything because you didn’t want to believe him when he had begged you to trust him. 
            “Oh my god,” was all you could say as your head fell into your hands. “I have made a total ass of myself.” Was there a chance Henry would listen to your apology after all of that?
            “You see,” Taehyung said, “I told you we knew the damage Euphoria does to people. We’ve been trying to fight this.”
            “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Like that night in the car?”       
            “It’s still a work in progress and a secret,” Namjoon said. “Only a few gangs that have proven trustworthy know we supply it. And they distribute it within their own territory. Or, in the case of your doctor friend, those who did us a great service. We did intimidate him into silence. Which was what you must have seen. Can’t say I blame you for what you thought based on what it looked like. He’d get more if he stayed silent. We don’t want our name attached to it just yet. The Royals already want us dead based on our past with them and our part in the Great War. If they knew what Jin-hyung was doing, it would a bigger target on our backs. But once it’s completely finished, then we’ll openly distribute it to the hospitals and clinics. But we hope that you understand the importance of this secret for us. It’s more than just our lives at risk if the wrong people get word of it. And if Choi already thinks that you’re with us, imagine how much worse it will be when he finds out that we are destroying yet another income for them. Do you understand, Y/N?”
            “This whole time, you’ve been doing a great feat and I’ve been so focused on the rumors. You really are the good guys trying to help?”
            “We’re really good at hiding ourselves. We’ve had years of practice showing the persona we want people to believe.
            “Yeah,” Taehyung said with a cheeky grin, “I mean look at Namjoon-hyung. He puts on a persona that he’s smooth when, in reality, he’s a giant dork who breaks everything he touches.”
            “I’ll break you, you fucking brat.”
            Jin reached out and knocked both of them upside the head. “Language!”
            And you laughed. You laughed without the weight of anxiety or fear weighing you down. For the first time, you felt like you were truly safe.
                                                    ****************************
            The next couple of days went by in a pleasant way, falling into a simple routine that you started to look forward to. One of them would pick you up in the morning, making sure to stop by Holli’s Café for a morning caffeine fix, before taking different ways to the Magic Shop that ensured you were still none-the-wiser as to how to get there. Once there, you would find Yoongi either waiting in the kitchen for you or in the expansive gym where you would start with his rehabilitation exercises after you checked and redressed his wounded shoulder. Now that Yoongi was home, there was a difference from the person at the hospital. He was still quiet but much more open to conversations and approachable. The conversations between the two of you were deep and easy like the ones you had with Amber. And you looked forward to them. There was one time you had made a stupid joke that had made him laugh freely. And that felt like a simple accomplishment that warmed you up. And you couldn’t help but find his laugh adorable. One morning, he brought you to his ‘Genius Lab’. According to the others, it was incredibly rare that he even mentioned his safe haven to outsiders, let alone let them see it. But he had made an exception for you.
            The Genius Lab was more like an office where Yoongi spent a good deal of time juggling between work, reflection, and solitude when the world became too much. The space suited his style; grey walls with dark accents and floors, a sleek black desk with three large monitors and computer equipment. Opposite the desk was a long black leather couch that looked quite comfortable. And the room was completely soundproof. When he had brought you into the Genius Lab, he showed off some of his work. You watched as he pulled up different views of various streets all over Central, some storefronts where he pointed out Bangtan’s hired help stationed out front, and the exteriors of the hospital popped up on the screens. You were very thankful that they were still monitoring your workplace. Yoongi tapped on a few keys and different angles of your apartment appeared across the screens, both outside and inside. He played back your morning; Hobi pulling up in a nondescript black car, him swaying to the music in his earpiece as he rode the elevator up, to letting himself into your apartment and waiting for you with Holli’s coffee in his hand. You remembered Taehyung telling you about the cameras they put in your apartment that first morning. While you thought it would be more invasive, you found comfort in his watchfulness.
            This morning had started as usual; Jin had come to pick you up this time to bring you to the Magic Shop. The only one you hadn’t seen since arriving at the Magic Shop was Jimin. He hadn’t appeared at lunch the first day as you expected. You shrugged it off, remembering that Hobi had mentioned he hadn’t been feeling well. But you still hadn’t seen or heard from him. The drive over to the Magic Shop was as winding and secretive as always. Though they had started going in a different way. From the street, it looked as if he had pulled up to an abandoned auto mechanic gas station in the lower section of town. At the touch of a button on the dashboard, a spray-painted door rolled open to a dark tunnel that ended at the parking level of the Magic Shop. You wanted to question how the construction worked or how it had remained secret but decided against it.
            As you ascended the spiral staircase after Jin, that was where the morning took an unusual turn.
            When you stepped into the large front foyer, you were greeted by the sounds of a struggle. Instinctually, you grabbed ahold of Jin’s arm and hid behind his broad shoulders, causing him to chuckle at the cute action. Coming through the front door was a blindfolded man being dragged in by both arms by Yeonjun and another hired staff member. He was yelling all sorts of vulgarities and kicking out in many directions, like he was throwing a tantrum and not trying to escape.
            “Motherfucker! I told you to stop manhandling me like this! You know who I am? I will mess you up!”
            “Such dramatics,” Jin bemused, “He acts like he hasn’t gone through this before. Yeonjun, did he cause you a lot of trouble?”
            “Sir,” Yeonjun snapped to attention, still keeping his captive held tightly. “He tried to give us the slip. We met him at the appointed time but he tried to run. Even tried to jump out of the car.”
            Jin tsked. “Jackson, so disappointing. I thought we had a better relationship than that.”
            “Jin,” Jackson called out, head snapping in different directions to try and focus on him from behind the blindfold, “buddy, come on. I got the times mixed up and your boy jumped on me. Can we take this stupid blindfold off? I thought we’d be past this.”
            “Jackson, you are like a rash; unwanted, hard to deal with, and annoying.”
            “Damn, that hurt.” Yeonjun shoved Jackson forward, causing the man to stumble freely. He ripped the blindfold off his face and turned back to the younger, fist clenched. “Fucking punk, I’ll wipe that fucking smile off your prepubescent face!”
            “Jackson,” Jin said in a commanding tone that in any other situation would be attractive. Stop it, you mentally screamed. “Refrain from threatening my employee in my home before I let him show you why he’s one of our best. Be a good boy and mind your manners. I’ll go get Namjoon to deal with you. Yeonjun, just make sure he stays here and doesn’t try to slip something into his pocket again. I’ll be right back.” Jackson snorted and rolled his eyes as he straightened himself out. Jin turned around to you, taking your hand and giving it a squeeze. “I’ll be back in a moment, Darling. Don’t worry, Jackson is like a tiny dog; he’s all bark and nothing else, and easy to kick.” Jin’s eye flicked up towards the corner of the room with a sharp look before he turned back to you with a smile. That was weird. “Yoongi-ah should be here soon. Just hang tight and introduce yourself if you want to. And if Jackson does anything ungentlemanly, just tell Yeonjun and he’ll make him regret it.”
            Before you could beg to just run upstairs, Jin patted you on the shoulder and disappeared. You had to remember that Bangtan would never leave you in any danger since they were bound to protect you. You remembered hearing Namjoon mention Jackson’s name before and figured they wouldn’t bring someone into their home that was a danger. You looked over to Jackson. The man’s dual toned hair was messy from his struggling. He pulled a pair of sunglasses from his baggy pants pocket and pushed them up onto his head, like a makeshift headband.
            Then, he noticed you. And you felt like you were a mouse caught in a snake’s site. A cool smile smoothed across his lips as he made his way over to you.
            “Well, look at you. I’ve never seen you around here before. What’s a cute, little thing like you doing here? I’m Jackson. You need anything, I’m the one who will know how and where to find it. Individual contractor. Know-it-all extraordinaire. Master of the Silver Tongues.” He offered his hand out for yours.
            “Um, hi, I’m Y/N.” You hesitated to shake his hand.
            “So, what are you? You’re too cute to be related to any of them. You look far too meek to be one of us. And I’d hope you have better taste than to be trying to date one of these losers when someone like me exists. I can tell you, you can do better. I’ve known these guys for a long time. Trust me, they’ve got odd taste that would disagree with such a cute mouse like you.”
            You retracted your hand. Jackson started to circle you, eyeing you up and down. It wasn’t threatening but you kept your eyes on him. Yeonjun gave you a look but you waved him off for the moment. You could handle yourself.
            “I’m a nurse. I’m assisting them after an incident.”
            “Ooh a nurse? What luck, I’m in need of some attention after all that rough housing.” He winked. “Oh, shit, wait, you’re the one that ran into the gun fight? And took out one of the Royal’s guys? I heard he’s still recovering from severe concussion. Mad respect, sweetheart.”
            “How do you know about that?”
            “I make it my business to know things. That’s how I make a living. And why I’m in such demand. Word of what you did has made its rounds through many circuits. Though, I’ll be honest, I’d never be able to put your face to it. And that’s a good thing in this world. Though, if you want to be extra safe from the bad guys, you may want to reconsider who you’re staying with.”
             “What do you mean by that?” You turned to follow his eyes as he kept circling you. “Bangtan seems to be taking good care of me. And I don’t mean anything by this, but I haven’t heard anything about you until now.”
            “Isn’t that the point? I’m good at staying secret, keeping things secret. And they’re so high profile, it would be easy to find you if they slipped up. There are some things that can’t be bought from me. Like a cute, little mouse. And if I wanted to keep someone safe, I’d make sure no one ever found them. Especially, if they are as interesting as you.”
            “I’m interesting?”
            “How could you not be? You’re so innocent, so different from all the other people I’ve ever met. You just want to help, didn’t know what you were running into. And now you’re stuck, hiding from the mean world that is trying to punish your good deed. I mean, I’ve been their friend for years and I can’t say I’d run into a fight with Choi to save someone he’s trying to kill. So yeah, you’re the most interesting person in the world. And I’d love to get to know you better. Maybe you’ll let me take you out sometime to prove I’m a better waste of your time.”
            “And what makes you think I’d be okay with that?”
            “Well, I can give you a hundred reasons to leave these losers behind.” He stopped circling and leaned in so his nose was only a breath away from yours. “But I’m the only one that you need.”
            Unbeknownst to Jackson, Yoongi had appeared at the top of the staircase as Jackson started circling you. He watched the interaction with a scowl on his face. He descended the stairs with a ghostly quiet until he was right behind the rogue. You noticed him as Jackson had stopped to lean towards you and your breath caught in your throat. He looked mad, a fierce protectiveness was present in his dark eyes. He appeared at the right moment. Then, you realized. Yoongi had cameras in the Magic shop, he had mentioned it. And the look Jin had given to the wall that you didn’t understand must have been to one of Yoongi’s cameras that he was watching for when you had arrived as he had done before. They were still watching out for you. He stood so close to Jackson that you wondered how the other hadn’t sensed him yet, his face right next to his shoulder and gaze boring a hole in Jackson’s head. Jackson noticed that you were no longer paying him the attention he wanted and turned his eyes towards the directions yours were on. And he jumped as if he had just been electrocuted, putting some distance between him and the death glare he was receiving. 
            “Fucking hell, you bastard! Put a bell on your fucking neck! Damn, you scared the shit out of me!”
            “Good,” Yoongi said as he kept his eyes trained on Jackson. “Leave her alone, Jackson. She’s got enough problems without you trying to weasel your way into her bed.”
            “You wound me, Suga. I was just introducing myself to the lucky lady who is now one of the most famous women in our field.”
            “I said,” he took a step closer to him, and despite his arm still in a sling, he looked as if he was about to use it on Jackson, “leave her alone.”
            “Wow, back down, tiger. Sheesh, didn’t think you’d be so concerned about someone like her. Don’t you have your hands full already? Or are you just greedy? Or are you guys taking turns?”
            “Jackson!”
            Namjoon’s voice echoed against the walls. You looked up to the second floor where RM was leaning on the banister overlooking the foyer with Jin by his side glaring down at Jackson. RM looked as annoyed as his voice let on. He was all business with no sign of the calm Namjoon you had been seeing around the Magic Shop. With a power that befitted the Leader of Bangtan, he signaled for Suga to stand down and motioned for Jackson to follow him. With a final look and wink from Jackson to you, he flipped Yoongi off and made for the stairs. Suga, silently, watched him go, making mental notes for the future before he reached back and took your hand in his. You jumped, slightly. He hadn’t been physical with you like the others had, holding your hands, giving you a hug or playful shove. There was always a bit of distance, aside from the medical side of things.
            “Come on, Y/N. Let’s get out of here.”
            He had led you upstairs, asking if you were alright. While Jackson was a lot, it wasn’t something you couldn’t have handled. But you thanked him anyways for stepping in. It felt nice to have someone be so protective of you, something you weren’t so used to. He started leading you up towards the direction of the Genius Lab, where he insisted you stay until Jackson was gone, since it was secure and private, instead of the normal spaces you tended to occupy. Thankfully, the physical therapy you needed to do with Yoongi didn’t require much space and you carried all the equipment you needed in your bag. You figured Yoongi was not a fan of Jackson normally, remembering the disdain in his voice when Joon had mentioned him back at the hospital before. You were sure that Jackson’s display back in the foyer only made that worse and he wanted to keep an eye on when he left.
            As you made it to the floor, Yoongi stopped. “I almost forgot. I need to check on something real quick. Can you remember how to get to the Genius Lab?”
            “I think so. Do you need help?”
            “No. I just need to check on Jimin. I won’t be long.”
            “Is he alright? Is he still not feeling well? I can take a look if you need me to. That’s kind of my whole thing.”
            He gave your hand a squeeze as a little chuckle sat in his throat. “No, it’s nothing you need to worry about right now. He’s coming down with something but is putting off taking his medicine as long as he can. He’s being stubborn. Gets it from me, probably. I’m just making sure he’s still in his room resting. I’ll only be a moment. I promise. Here, this is my key to the Lab. Let yourself in and lock it. I use my code on the door. Not that I think Jackson will know where my office is but just to be safe.”
            Some part of you hated when he let go of your hand to head down the other side of the hall. You had to take a few breaths to let your professional masks fall back into place. You wished your emotions would settle. But being around someone as cute and protective had you feeling a certain way. A way which, you reminded yourself, you shouldn’t be feeling. You were hired to help him heal, not to let a crush develop. You really needed to get a grip. Yet, you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling as you made your way down the hall.
            However, after a few steps and turns, you had lied when you thought you could find the Genius Lab on your own. The only places you knew how to get to without much assistance was the kitchen, gym, and the family room. You had only been to the Genuis Lab once and you racked your brain for any distinguishing details that would help you find it again. What picture was near the door? What color was the door? Was the one with frosted glass or was that Taehyung’s art studio? You could just stand still and wait for Yoongi to come back and find you. Or you could text him that you were going to back to the foyer. Or text one of the others for help? Joon was busy with Jackson, and you weren’t sure where Jin went after that. Jimin, of course, was sick and shouldn’t be disturbed. And you wanted Yoongi to focus on Jimin and not you getting lost. You sent a text to Taehyung, hoping he wasn’t too busy to help you with what he was up to in town. You walked further down the hall only to stop and turn around after not recognizing anything.
            Wait, was this the same place you had started? Why must this place be so confusing?
            Your phone buzzed. You looked down at Taehyung’s text.
      TaeTae: I really got to make you a map LOL.
       TaeTae: Do you remember how to find the stairs? Get back there and look for your favorite painting of mine. The G.L is two doors down from that.
       TaeTae: If you can’t find it, I’m sure he’ll find you with the cameras. Sorry, I’m at a meeting right now.
            You could do this. Just find the stairs. Though that was easier said than done now that you had gotten all turned around. You’re sure Taehyung would make a joke out of this if you were ever found. After another turn, you did see a picture that seemed familiar and went down that direction. As you kept walking, you started to hear voices. At least that was a start. Once you found the source, you could orient yourself or ask for help. You followed the voices, and as they got louder, you recognized RM’s tone and regretted your discussion, not wanting to interrupt. That, and you were sure Yoongi didn’t want you near Jackson again so soon. But as you were about to turn back, their conversation caught your attention.
            “Haven’t I been super helpful to ya’ll? Who was the one who gave you that info about the Royals showing up?”
            “You, also, neglected to tell us that Choi was going to be there. And that is how Suga got hurt.”
            “An oversight. That must have changed at the last minute. I can’t be a mind reader.”
            “Even though you market yourself as one?”
            “Ok, true. But you of all people should know that they don’t do what they say. Regardless, I told you about the Ateez pirates. I said they were up to something interesting. You should trust me by now. I got the information. I may be an independent player in this game, but I like you guys. That’s why I keep my ears open for you. And, I haven’t spilled anything of yours.”
            “That’s because I don’t let you get anything worth spilling.”
            “Ouch, you wound me, bro. I thought we were closer than that.”
            Before you could help yourself, you found yourself stopped outside of Namjoon’s office. The door was barely cracked, but enough for you to see a bit inside. Namjoon’s office was much different from Yoongi’s; it was a large room with warm hardwood against velvety walls that declared power, with bookcases lining the grand walls. Thick hard-covered books filled the shelves like an extensive library. Seated at an opulent and ornate desk in a high wing backed chair was RM, his fingers threaded together and pressed against his lips as he peered sharply at Jackson. Jackson sat relaxed in a smaller, less comfortable chair. They were bathed in the crackling light of a roaring fire from the Victorian style fireplace that sat across from them. This was what you expected of a Mafia leader.
            “I don’t appreciate you making my second so upset. He’s supposed to be recovering. Something he wouldn’t have to be doing had you had better information. Maybe I should start going to someone else.”
            Jackson scuffed. “As if anyone could do what I do. Besides, I feel like you would have done it by now if there was anyone else. And if that asshole wasn’t so easily riled up he would be fine. I was just saying ‘hello’ to her. And trying to figure her out. She’s quite a surprise Joon.”
            “We are trying to keep her safe. That includes from you, Jackson. She’s a civilian who got caught up in the worst way. We just got her to relax around us. I’d thank you to not undo what I’ve been working hard to do.”
            “I hear you. Glad you took my advice to just go with it. I told you nothing bad would happen. I mean, what did you just say? ‘She’s a civilian’. I truly doubted she would be any problems.”
            “No thanks to you.” Joon leaned further in his chair, his dragon eyes glowing in the fire light. “I’ve been patient, Jackson. More than I should be given what I am dealing with here. Now, you are going to tell me what I asked you to find out for me before I let Suga do what he wanted to do.”
            “Damn, for someone who said it’s all business, you’re really pushing it here.”
            “Jackson,” you could tell that Namjoon’s patience was wearing thin. What was he so determined to know? Was it something to do with Choi or the Royals?
            “Man, look. I can find information about anyone. With just their name, I can tell you if they had late fees from their elementary school library or how many days their mother spent in the hospital recovering from birth.”   
            “And yet, it has taken you over a week to get back to me. Either you are slipping or you are full of shit.”
            “Or you’re dealing with a ghost.” Jackson reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small notepad. “Everything I found fits on two pages of this little flip pad. Even the most basic civilian fills half of the pages. But this Y/N girl is either that most boring person in the entire world or she’s a ghost.”
            Wait, he was here about you? Namjoon was looking for information about you? You thought you had been very open with them about anything they had asked you. He had asked you to trust him, but he didn’t trust you. He had hired Jackson to dig up anything on you that he could. He was nervous when you had first come to the Magic Shop but you thought you had worked past that. Hadn’t the time they had spent with you beforehand been enough to prove that you meant no harm to them or else why would he ask you to come here? You knew you shouldn’t listen to any of this, but you couldn’t move. You sunk to the ground and leaned against the wall, listening.
            “What are you talking about?”
            Jackson tossed the pad over to him to see for himself. “I mean, this girl has nothing before two years ago. All I could find is that she currently works at Central Mercy as an ER Nurse, she lives in a shitty apartment that’s overpriced for that part of town. Before that, there isn’t much. I found her college she attended for her expedited nursing degree where she got high marks. Her father worked for different police forces as a high up desk jockey, meaning she moved a lot so there isn’t much in regard to early years. But nothing else. Everything starts about two years ago. I was able to find a news article about a car accident that listed her as a passenger, so her amnesia story checks out as far as that. Can’t said I ever heard of someone using amnesia as a cover, but fuck if it wouldn’t be good. Father died and there was no mother listed on any paperwork. Father’s file is just as blank. Just he was basic cop who sat at a desk. After the accident, her only known address was some small studio in her name that was set up by the rehab she was assigned to by some Doctor Sung, who died a year after from a heart attack. Found all his files but it’s nothing interesting. She did some reception job for a clinic before she came here that was a nonprofit for student nurses and that had nothing useful other than what I already had. But that’s all. No ties anywhere, no real records until recently. Either she’s got the most boring, nonspecial life I’ve ever seen, or her life’s been invented by some crazy mastermind. And I’m leaning towards the first one, man. This girl is boring and is nothing in the grand scheme of things. And that’s the truth. The most interesting thing was meeting you guys. She’s harmless. She’s no threat to anyone except maybe herself with that stupid heroic shit. So, you worried for nothing. Your family is safe, just like I said it would be.”
            “How can that be all?” Namjoon seemed disappointed. “You’re telling me that there was no other information? How can someone’s life just go back two years? You must have missed something.”
            “I don’t miss shit. Listen, I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but that’s all there is. Her old man must have been from some off the grid town beforehand and didn’t leave footprints. She’s a nobody. She’s barely worth the time I spent looking for her.  So, stop worrying about her like she’s gonna turn into some problem. And if she does, you can kill her easily enough. Hell, there are seven of you, should be easy.”
            You couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped your lips. Namjoon’s eyes snapped towards the door, knowing full well that he had been caught. He rose from the desk and crossed the room, opening the door to find you rooted in place against the wall, eyes cast down with tears welling in the corners. It wasn’t just from the threat of being killed by the people you were supposed to trust, or the harsh words that Jackson had said about you. But it was the fact that you weren’t trusted. You were not granted the same thing he had begged you to do for them. And that hurt just as much.
            “Oh shit,” Jackson said with a hint of glee. “Little mouse likes to sneak around, huh? I can see why you didn’t want to trust her. Seems like she’ll get herself killed before too long.”
            “Jackson,” RM roared causing you to shrink further into yourself and the tears to flow freely. Namjoon looked down at you, instantly regretting his tone. He had messed up and he knew that. Moving carefully, he held his hand out to you in a silent plea to take it. Feeling like there was no other choice, you let him pull you up to your feet and into his office. Daring to look at his face, you didn’t see anger or any dangerous threat that you feared for your eavesdropping. You saw remorse and sympathy. He led you towards the fireplace where there were two large armchairs facing each other with a side table full of half-read books. He motioned you to sit before he turned back to Jackson. He took out his phone and sent a quick message. Within a moment, Yeonjun appeared in the door. “That’s enough, Jackson. Thank you for your help. But I need to talk to Y/N. Yeonjun will take you back where he found you. You know the drill.”
            “Wow, fastest visit ever. Am I at least getting paid?” Namjoon shot him a look that made him jump and scurry over to the door. “Don’t look so sad, sweetheart. I’m sure he isn’t going to kill you. Let me know if you want to take me up on my offer.”
            Yeonjun grabbed Jackson by the collar and dragged him out, shutting the door behind him, leaving you alone with Namjoon and the crackling fire. You thought back to when he had saved you when Choi had you cornered in the hospital hall, how good natured he had been with you, how he had been so open with you before he even knew anything more about you. He had been the one pushing for you to trust them and be comfortable with them. He had wanted you to come to the Magic Shop, was planning on telling you before he got busy. But was it all a ruse to get you to follow along? A handkerchief was pushed into your hands and Joon took a seat in the opposite armchair.
            “Y/N, I’m sorry you heard that.” He was sorry? Was he going to reprimand you for eavesdropping? Or tell you that all this was a farce that he was going to drop and forget this life debt he kept pushing? “I was hoping to have talked to him before you ever got here. Just for some extra assurance before we moved forward. I didn’t want you to ever hear that. Jackson can say things harsher than he means. I asked him to do a more detailed background check than I had already done, just to ensure I had all the facts.” He flinched when your breath hitch as more tears fell. He started to reach out his hand to try and comfort you but thought better of it. “I promise, I didn’t mean anything by it. I just needed to be completely sure that we were all going to be safe.”
            “I wouldn’t have hurt any of you. I can barely handle myself, let alone do anything to you all,” you cried. “Why would I put myself in this situation? I tried to get away from all of this but you kept me here. I would have told you all of that stuff. It’s all I know about myself since the accident. I have nothing to hide from anyone. I promise I have only told you the truth.”
            “I know you have. I’m sure you would have told me everything freely. I fucked up. I can’t say I’m sorry enough.”
            “Was he right? Are you going to kill me? Because I seem like a made-up person? Because I don’t have a past?”
            “No!” Namjoon rose from his seat and knelt down in front of you, finding your eyes and begging for your attention. “I would never do that. I promised to protect you. And I would do that whether you owed us a life debt or not. This life I’ve been living for the past twelve years has made me question so much about people. I’ve been lied to so many times that it fucks up your mind. Bangtan is my family and it’s my responsibility to protect them. When I met you, I instantly felt like I could trust you. I could see that you were a good person. But we had been fooled by someone we thought we could instantly trust before and I got nervous. But the more we spent with you, I knew it was different. But there was this little part of me that still worried. So, I looked into you after that first day. That’s why I introduced us as Bangtan to you. The others agreed because they saw what I saw in you. We've all been jaded by this life but something in you broke through all of our hesitations. We all think you are a good person and that you wouldn’t do anything to hurt us. Once we got you to see what we really were, I thought this would be easier on all fronts.”
            “You asked me to trust you but you couldn’t do the same for me?”
            “I know. It’s been so long since I could really trust someone. Look at Jackson. Okay, bad example. But I’ve known Jackson almost as long as I’ve known the others. But I still need to keep him at arm’s length or watch what I say around him. It’s different with you. I want to trust you, I do. I just needed to be extra sure that I was doing the right thing. I truly mean that.”
            You sat in silence for a long while as your breath evened out and your tears ceased. You could understand his hesitation. How could he be sure that you weren’t lying? It made sense, but hearing Jackson’s words, imagining that’s how they saw you, it was hard. But you had been so back and forth with their trust, too.
            “I really wish we could just start over.”
 “What do you want to know?” You took a deep breath and leaned back into the armchair. “What else do you need to hear? You want to be sure? Ask away. I only know so much. You guys have asked me to trust you and you told me things that would be helpful. I will try to do the same so we can share a common ground. Maybe one day I’ll know more and I can tell you more. But I can tell you what I can.”
            “It’s fine, Y/N. You don’t need to do that. I trust you.” He stood up and moved towards his desk. But you grabbed his hand, steeling yourself to open up as much as you could. He could sense your determination and returned to the armchair. “Just tell me whatever you’re comfortable with.”
            “I never really talk about this. It’s hard to talk about. But I can confirm that what Jackson said was all true. It’s actually pretty much all I know for myself. My first actual memory is waking up in a small hospital room in so much pain. There was a man sitting next to me that I didn’t remember. He was my friend, he showed me pictures of us at school. His name was Daniel. I don’t know his last name, I never asked or remembered it. He’s the one who told me about the accident. My father’s car was hit from the side and flipped. He didn’t make it. Daniel spent weeks by my side as I recovered. Dr. Sung was this older doctor who watched over me and helped me recover. Once I was moved to his rehab, Dr. Sung prescribed me all these different treatments but my memories never came back. Daniel brought me my old schoolwork, my old journals, anything that could help me find myself. But there wasn’t much. Jackson said something about us moving a lot. After a year, I could recall little things about places I believe I lived. But there was never anything concrete. No friends or family reached out. Daniel told me that it was just me and dad. He had never heard us talk about anyone else. I guess we didn’t stay long in places. After I was released from the rehab, Daniel and I moved into this small apartment that was far away from everything. The rehab set it up to help me adjust to the world. But I was like a zombie, depressed, broken. After six months, I started trying to get better, start over. Daniel and I started dating, I found a job that was walking distance from my place. All my medical training came back over time. Just not anything else. And that was my life for almost two years. But, almost five months ago, Daniel and I split up and I came to Central to get away from all the unpleasantness. I’d prefer not to go into that if that’s alright. We weren’t good together anymore. Since I’ve been away, I’ve started remembering little flashes of things that don’t make a lot of sense. Amber thinks it’s because I’m away from the trauma. I don’t even know if I want to remember anymore. But if I remember anything more, I promise I’ll tell you once I figure it all out.”
            Namjoon reached out and took your hand. “It’s okay. Thank you for sharing that with me. I promise to be more upfront about any questions I have. I trust you.”
            “I trust you, too.”
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jyslacefront · 1 year
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388$ to have ur certified y/n moment like ur in some fanfic 😭😭 at a jackson wang hosted party 😭
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thetrashbinseries · 5 months
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— Fahrenheit ( bangchan x reader )
rated - mature | minors dni
parts - one, two (explicit)
warnings - idol universe, name changed idols, mature themes, drug use, alcohol use, sexual themes, mentions of mental illness, slight angst
x x x
“It’s not rocket science, Chris."
My annoyance hits the roof. What the hell is his problem? Why's he turning this into a damn soap opera?
"You're back in LA. New York—yes or no?"
Chris tiptoes the line ever since last year's scandal close shave. I get playing it safe, but I'm alone in a six-bedroom Jersey fortress. In the U.S. media game, I'm golden. No cancel threats, not yet in my rising career.
But the spotlight got hotter after the last single went viral. Chris, in the crosshairs of relentless management, dances a careful routine.
He's the big shot, leader of the world's hottest K-pop group. His company would shoot themselves in the foot by axing him. Yet, Mr. Libra doesn't dig rocking the boat.
"-I want to, babe, but it's too risky right now."
I sigh. Twisting my computer chair, neon lights bathe me in purples and reds. I'm in the studio, bullshitting on songs for the third album.
I've had it. "Catch you later, Chris." The call drops, facedown on the desk, anger swirling.
"Seriously, fuck you." I spit out, taking it personally.
Being a foreigner feels like the snag. His industry would call me a disgrace tagging along.
I don't need that energy.
Am I settling as his 'little secret'? I'm 29, he's 27 – grown folks. Pings remind me of him, but I silence the noise. Facetime interrupts, Jake, the friend with benefits. Games or busy, no time for emotional plays.
Warner signed my band, deep in commitments, mind racing. A shrink's gift? Adderall for my ADHD.
Now, even less time for the BS.
"Hey, daddy." I purr, thickening my accent.
Jake’s smile fades as he eyes me. "What?" I giggle,
"Stop playing with me like that, y/n."
"How am I playing with you?"
"You're gonna end up with your legs cocked back like last time, girl, cool it."
Laughter ensues. I glimpse his background – a parking garage stairwell. We catch up every couple of weeks via Facetime.
"Where are you at?" I squint.
"Recognize it?" Jake turns his phone, revealing the New York City skyline.
"You're out here? Aw, shit." I lean back in my chair, a half-cocked grin, tongue behind my lower lip.
"Aw, shit is right! What's up? What are you up to tonight?"
I chuckle, rolling my eyes. "Nah, uh, Jake. We gotta play nice. I got a good thing going on right now."
He sighs, exasperation audible. "You two still a thing? Thought you were photographed over there, outside the JYPE building?"
"I was."
"They ain't letting that fly, you serious, y/n?"
"I mean, they're being hard on him, but we're still trying to make it work." I express more hope than Chris does. Jake’s viewpoint is valid – he's been through the K-pop circuit, burned out, went solo, and found massive international success.
Which is why he bitches about it.
It's unfair.
"I do wanna see you, though," I admit, the need for an adventure kicking in.
"That's my girl. Hey, I'm about to hop in the car. Should be able to make it over in twenty. You at your spot in Jersey?"
"Yes, I am, Jake, but don't come in on no bullshit."
"I'm always on bullshit. See you in twenty."
Jake hangs up before I can fight back.
Why is my grin so wide? I roll my eyes at my own excitement, surprised at how genuinely thrilled I am to be around someone who wants to be with me. Scanning Chris's messages puts me in a better mood.
babydaddy: there’s no way you just hung up like that -_-
babydaddy: this is my life…my career…
babydaddy: why can't you be more patient?? this is hard for me too…
babydaddy: we need to talk tomorrow…
babydaddy: about us, and where this is going.
The last message triggers something in me. My stomach twists like it always does before bad news. It doesn't change, whether in poverty in my hometown or a small Jersey mansion. The same sunken gut reaction. We've been going back and forth, but this sounds... final. At some point, he'll grow sick of it. I know I have.
Yet, there's so much I love about Chris. Selfishly, I don't want him with anyone else. He's the man of my dreams, flawed as he is, he’s human. My human. I panic, feeling like my boat has sprung a leak, desperate to plug it somehow.
Knowing myself, I turn my phone upside down, placing it on my desk and stand up, distancing myself from the setting. Something else would trap me; all I want is not to reply to him with charged emotion. It wouldn't help anything.
Jake’s on his way over.
I take a deep breath, letting my anxiety settle. I'll talk to him; he always has good insight and wisdom beyond his years. I look at myself in the mirror. I'm in comfy mode, barefoot, walking across hardwood floors.
Entering the dimly lit kitchen, I brew hot chocolate, curling my toes against the balls of my feet, cracking knuckles as I chew my lower lip, mind drifting to Chris. Resistance is weaker now; the reasons to text back sound more convincing. I shake my head, trying to clear my mind, grab my cup, and sip as I walk past my bearded dragon's tank. It's late; he's asleep, tucked into his pink bed. I stare at each plant, trying to keep my thoughts in check.
My outdoor motion detection buzzes the smartwatch on my wrist, signaling someone's arrival. I glimpse headlights through my foyer. My grin widens; I bite my lip, urging myself to behave.
"Alexa, shuffle my evening playlist on Spotify, downstairs."
The nearest speaker obeys, filling the space with music. My dog scurries around my feet as the doorbell rings, and my bigger dog's deep barks echo throughout the house.
“Hey, cool it!" I shout at them, stepping over the little one weaving through my legs, nipping my ankles for some ungodly reason. I open the door, visibly exasperated, while my larger dog bellows from the top of the stairs.
Jake points to her behind me, furrowing his brows dramatically. "I thought we were friends!"
My dog hurls another final, loud bark before slowly making her way down the stairs. I let Jake in, lock the door, and he takes off his shoes, grabbing a disposable guest pair from the basket by the front door. I turn, starting down the hall, and Jake’s full body weight slams into me from behind, arms wrapping around my body, causing me to stumble. Seemingly unpredictably, he stops us from falling while laughing. I catch my footing, give him a firm shove, swipe stray hair behind my ear, and correct the other side, giving him a side-eye.
"Now, you know damn well I'm too clumsy for some stupid shit like that," I scoff, turning into the living room. I walk over to the glass coffee table near the sofa, grab the nearby gold electric candle lighter, tip it into the wide, three-wick candle, and light each of their blackened tips. The scents of apple-cinnamon, cedar, sandalwood, and vanilla fill the room, complemented by the warm orange glow of well-placed LED lights. I sit on the edge of the sofa, and Jake takes his favorite spot on the oversized black beanbag chair nearby. He pulls his hood off, followed by his knitted beanie, ruffling his dark brown hair.
I've got to say, Jake is a handsome guy, no doubt about it.
But I've got problems, and I've caught heavy feelings for one of my biggest headaches lately—Christopher Bang.
We're in this so deep, at least on my end.
I start to think a little harder, trying to see beyond the rose colored glasses for a moment. His text plays through my head as I scroll on my phone, my excuse being searching for another song to skip to on Spotify. But, of course, I get back to the messages Chris sent earlier.
"About us, and where this is going…"
We'd never had an official conversation about being exclusive. We met by chance, fell for each other, and started sneaking around together. I consider Chris my boyfriend, and I’m saved in his phone under ‘baby.' That's got to mean something, right?
The horror begins to set in—has this been a situationship this whole time? Is that why he never went public?
Anxiety creeps in.
"Yo," Jake snaps his fingers, waving his fingers. Damn, I must've been really distracted, crinkled brows as I stare into my phone, thumb tapping against the glass but not doing anything. I look up at him, raising my brows as if I had just briefly missed something he recently said.
"Hm?" I ask.
He's sitting up more, his left hand stroking one of my cats. "Talk to me, girl," he gestures to the marble ashtray with half of a joint, "And pass it."
I lean forward, grabbing the pink joint and placing it between my lips. I use the lighter nearby, sparking it, blowing a few times, the smoke thick and pungent, rising into the air. I tap it into the ashtray and lean over, passing it his way. Jake takes it graciously, placing it between the center of his pink lips and taking a big inhale. He holds it in, nodding, looking down at it as he blows the smoke out the side of his mouth.
"Chris and I got into it again. He told me they were coming to LA for a show over at KCON, and he was like 'maybe I can fly over to see you,' trying to fit it in, delaying his trip to Korea by like three days, which didn’t seem like a big deal. But then after everything ended, he was just hyper-aware of the attention on them and changed his mind," I begin to explain. Jake has taken a few hits during my story; he's leaning forward, passing me the joint again. I take it, hitting it.
"Did he say why?" he asks. Jake’s voice is low, even-toned. He’s invested in my story and the way I’m feeling, I can tell by the way his laser focus is on me as I speak. His eye contact is intense, fiery, the Aries in him.
"No, he didn’t, and that’s what frustrated me, so we got on a call tonight. He like—called me and was dancing around it, and I was like 'look, it’s not hard, are you coming to New York or not.' I was just... over it," I reply, pausing to take another hit before passing it to Jake once more. "He was all 'I want to, baby, but it's too risky.'” I mock his Aussie accent, and Jake can’t help the cough of smoke that comes out from trying to repress a laugh. He turns his head, full-on coughing a couple of times before he catches his breath again.
"Do you need water?" I ask, successfully holding back my own laugh. I don’t wait for his reply, instead, standing up and taking a few steps over to the mini-fridge and grabbing a bottle of spring water, handing it to him.
Plopping back down on the couch, I sigh. "So I didn’t even let him get the rest of it out. I was like 'ok, I’ll talk to you later' and like, hung up."
Jake places the burnt-out joint tip into the tray, effectively ending our puff-puff-pass session, making us both more relaxed and a little spacey. "Oof, y/n, this is... such a unique situation that very few people go through, and even fewer non-K-idols. I mean, I don’t agree with any of it, right? But it’s not me, and Chan, he’s in like–the peak of their career as a boy group, dude." Jake shakes his head, sitting back, my cat jumping from his lap, considering him having moved too much for his comfort.
"I don’t—care," I blurt.
Jake’s head drops back with a sigh before he picks it up again. "That’s probably part of the problem. Chan’s risking his career; Korea is no joke when it comes to this shit. I promise you, unless you’re physically in the industry as an idol over there, you have no idea. It’s so obsessive, and these companies, the management, they will not let you breathe, and the bigger you are—the tighter they hold onto you because there’s so much more to lose at that point."
He only leaves a half second of pause before he says, "I don’t think you’re compatible with—nor do you deserve, that kind of relationship with anyone."
Ouch.
It hurts that much more because—he’s right
"Now that doesn’t make Chan a bad person, or you a weak person. He’s got a right to this life he’s worked super hard to get to, and you’ve got a right to someone to love you the way you want to be loved, especially while you’re in the beginning stage of becoming great yourself. It’s a huge distraction—maybe not a relationship, but like, that kind of relationship."
I can do nothing but sigh, throwing my hands up and sitting back onto the couch, feeling, well, defeated. Can you blame me? It fucking sucks, the reality of it all that I was trying to avoid.
"Fuck," I finally say aloud.
Jake’s looking at me; I know he feels bad for breaking it down so plain, but he does it because he cares about me and wants the best for me, and I know that. “You still do what you want; it’s your life. Whatever you two decide is what you two decide, but that’s just—my limited experience.”
I scoff with a roll of my eyes, “Limited experience. Yeah ok.”
He laughs.
We both understand the subtext of the brief exchange.
“He says we need to talk tomorrow, about us and ‘where this is going’,” I say with air quotes.
“I mean, hey, it’s an opportunity to get your concerns out there, listen to his, and decide what’s best for you. He’ll decide what’s best for him. If that’s being together, great, if not, great. Either way, you’ll be ok. That’s how I like to see these kinds of things.” Jake says, his words profound and his perspective valuable to me. He leans forward, “We’ve known each other like what? Almost a year now?” I nod to confirm, and he continues, “In that short period of time, I can just—tell that you’re a strong person; you wouldn’t have gotten this far if you weren’t. If you ever need someone to talk to, my line is always open.”
I let another long breath go before laying across the sofa on my stomach, bringing myself closer to Jake as I lazily hug a pillow, resting my chin atop it. His advice is logged in my thoughts. I really don’t want to talk about it anymore—the way he phrased it did something to lower my anxiety so I was going to let sleeping dogs lie. “What about you, huh? What’s got you on the East Coast? You’re never over here, rarely in America anymore for real.”
“Yeah, I’ve been—busy, but it’s a blessing, you know? I’m so grateful that so many people support me, as a solo artist, doing my own thing, my way.” Jake never fails to acknowledge those around him that have supported him, and keeps himself grounded and humble somehow through being an international celebrity. “But I was at the Versace show over in Soho. I’ve got a couple of other shows to see for New York Fashion Week, but I touched down and had to come see you.”
I lift a brow. “I’m not gonna fuck you, Jake.”
Without hesitation, he fires back, “I’m not asking you to, y/n.”
It’s enough to drag a snort from me.
He laughs, “The hotels get lonely, and most places I go, I don’t know anyone. I like it here; you’ve done a lot since the last time I was here.” Jake looks around at the decor. He points to a painting of a cat skeleton on a black canvas. “That’s new, I like it.” He says.
“Yeah? I do too; it’s simple but it matches the vibe of the space, I found it by accident one day.”
When Jake says the hotels are lonely, I believe him. He often confides in me about how lonely his lifestyle can be and how it can drive him so crazy that he’ll call everyone through his phone until someone answers, and when that person hangs up, he’ll keep going. More often than not, he doesn’t have anyone to call, despite my insisting that I was an option. Some nights, when it gets really bad, he’ll have a tendency towards drinking, which is something I don’t like, and we’ve talked about ad nauseam. Of course, he’s always welcome in my safe spaces.
“So what’s new with the band? When you texted me the other day, you had like, tons of shit going on that you were freaking out about.” Jake cracks open the bottle of water, taking a gulp.
“I’m flying out to LA next week for a couple of events, but we’re like focused on album three right now; I’ve been locked in the studio just writing.”
“Ok, ok, you got anything for me to hear yet?” He seems to perk up to ask this question.
“Eh, nothing I’m ready to show or anything, just fragments of songs right now. The label is really pushing the work we did with album two to build the hype up for album three, and that’s the one they funded.” I kick my feet slowly in the air behind me as I talk.
“We should do a song together.” Jake says, quite suddenly. He can tell I’m taken aback. I mean, creatively, Jake and I get along great, but we had never discussed merging on a record before. “An official song, I think it could sound incredible.”
I immediately want to agree, of course, but I have a couple of hurdles I know I need to jump now that I’ve gotten to this point in my career. I hated that. I used to be able to agree to a collaboration immediately. But Jake had even more hoops to jump through; he couldn’t commit to something official now either.
So why was he proposing it?
“I gotta ask the label—”
“Fuck the label, dude.” Jake waves his hand, “They don’t have to know anything, not yet. We’ll just work together and see what happens. Whaddya say?”
It takes no thought for me to reply,
“Let’s do it.”
Jake wore me down enough to bring him down into the studio, insisting he didn't have anything important to do until tomorrow evening. I don't want to encourage his drinking, but when he spots the whiskey decanter, he gestures to it as I sit down in the main chair in front of the soundboard.
"What’s in there? Hennessy?" He answers his own question as I spin around in the chair to see what he’s talking about. He’s already over at the mini bar, opening it up and whiffing.
"Yeah, but I rarely drink it. I got it for guests." I turn towards my soundboard again, powering it up and waiting for the two large screens to load. I add another thought to the end of my sentence, albeit, to myself. Not like I have guests anyway.
Jake comes over with a glass, the brown liquor sloshing around as he tilts it in my direction. I roll my eyes, taking it, and he’s already got his glass, which he holds out for a toast.
"To the music," Jake says.
"The music." I oblige, clinking his glass and taking my gulp down a lot less gracefully than he does his, before he pours up another for himself. "Don’t overdo it; you’re gonna have a nasty hangover, and I won’t be the one to blame for it." I press a few buttons, and the house lights lower, back to the blue and purple hue I was sitting in earlier.
"I am a grown man that knows my limits." Jake states, matter-of-factly. He sits in the rolling chair at the table alongside me, pulling himself up to the soundboard and sitting back in his chair, sipping his drink as his eyes dance across the screens while I click around, pulling up my digital audio workstation of choice.
I point to the keyboard nearest to him, "Press a key for me?" He does, confirming it's connected and functional, the note ringing out through the monitors.
"Aw yeah." Jake sits up, setting his glass down on the designated cupholder space on the edge of the mixing table as he places both hands on the keys, beginning to fiddle with the limited random keys and chords he had learned how to play while being forced to learn as a trainee. "Damn, it’s been so long." He says, a half smile on his face. I can tell he’s reminiscing, I just can’t tell if it’s good or bad. "You’re so lucky to have control over your music, you know that?" He says, looking over at me before focusing back on the instrument again, slender fingers of his right hand climbing up the keys.
"I don’t really have total control, not anymore. Not sure I ever did." I say with a sigh. "It’s always been like—an Eli and me thing, not just a ‘me’ thing. I just get a little more attention because I’m the one out front, singing." I continue to explain. Jake’s stopped playing, instead choosing to lean in his chair and eye me over the top of his glass as he sips, listening to me with an empathetic nod. "Now with a major label involved, there are so many other factors now."
"You get the final say though, right?"
"Well, yeah, I guess I do." I say with uncertainty, not because it isn’t true, but because it still feels like the decisions I make have to be based on what everyone else thinks is best for us. If I vehemently object, I’m persuaded down to the decisions of others. Sometimes, it feels like I’m being gaslit. But I don’t have much time to ruminate on that, since everything is moving forward at top speed.
"Guess it’s complicated?" Jake concedes.
I nod.
"Girl, you got it," Jake croons in his gruff voice, eyes closed, fingers snapping to start a rhythm. "And I know it, baby, why don’t you?”
I nod, sliding him away from the keys as I hit some chords to match his singing. Unsure if it's a freestyle or something pre-written, I catch the composition unfolding. Music flows through me effortlessly—my natural talent that's brought me this far. It didn't happen overnight, but creating is the part of music that feels like pure joy, a distraction from all the BS.
Soon, we're vibing out a hook, laughing for hours, blending funk with '90s groove, a nostalgic fusion. My phone rings, freezing me in place. The weight of unresolved problems crashes over me. Jake senses it; I bolt before he protests. His eyes speak understanding; he knows when to let me deal with my demons. I answer the phone, attempting to steady my voice.
“Hello?”
“You answered.”
It’s Chris.
His voice is tired, ironic, as if he couldn’t believe it himself but didn’t care.
It irritates me. Why call back so soon if compromise isn't on the table?
“I just called to say, that I’ll be there in about four hours.”
A lump forms in my throat; I glance around for a clock. Holed up in the studio with Jake, time escaped me.
“But you said—“
‘First class, you are now welcome to pre-board flight 917 to Newark, First class, you are now welcome to pre-board flight 917 to Newark.’
“I gotta go, but I’ll see you in a few, yeah?”
“Y-yeah.”
The phone beeps, leaving me in stunned silence. The studio's muted song hums in the background. I'm not ready to face it yet, still figuring out what this sudden visit means.
“Said I wouldn’t do this.” I mutter, pressing my fists against my forehead, heaving a frustrated sigh. I vowed not to let another man stir my emotions, yet here I am—almost having a meltdown. But my feelings are valid. No explanation after a heated argument, and suddenly he's on his way here?
Maybe he got another perspective from the members or his friends. Maybe he thought about it. Either way, he'll be here in four hours. We can hash it out then.
I muster the calm to return to the studio. Jake sits back, his chair turning towards me. “Well?”
I plop onto the nearby sofa. “He’s boarding a flight here now, said he’ll be here in four hours.”
Jake’s brows lift in surprise. “See? I told you…this was going to push you two in some direction it needed to go. Four hours? My man, okay BangChan!” Jake laughs, toasting with his glass. “So I added some drums, check it out.” He plays the track; the groove multiplies.
“You added that part too?” I notice another musical flair, and he nods proudly. After a few seconds, he turns it off, a slow fade of the volume knob.
“I think that’s enough for me to work with for now, what do you think?”
"The skeleton is definitely there, but what about more instruments?" I question. Jake pushes his chair back, picks up his hoodie, slipping it on as he stands up.
“It’s enough to write to; we can come back to it; if Chan’s on his way here, the last thing he needs is to see another guy here late night.” He slips on his shades, his phone reflected in them as he orders an Uber Black. I didn't think he cared like this, feeling closer to him; he did what he felt was best. I was freaking out about how to get him out in time, and Jake took the initiative.
A relieved sigh escapes me. “I owe you.”
“Absolutely nothing. You don’t owe me anything, sweetheart. I had a good time here tonight.” He tucks his phone in his jacket pocket. “Twelve minutes.”
I nod. “Follow me upstairs, I made some cookies yesterday; you can take some with you.”
“Ooh what kind?”
“Chocolate chip.”
“A classic.”
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xuxuzinhoo · 9 months
Text
/Boyfriend Material
/Jackson Wang
#3 do especial
uma histórinha de amor com o Jackson namoradinho e afins
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• Nunca admitiu, mas Jackson queria que você o pedisse em namoro. Ele não se importaria de pedir, a questão é que você o obrigou a entrar nessa de "ficar sério" porque não sabia se iam durar uma semana mesmo com ele quase berrando aos quatro ventos que você era a mulher dele.
•No final desistiu de esperar e acabou fazendo o pedido. Preparou um jantar romântico e enfiou o anel na sobremesa. Enquanto o violinista chegava tocando com o garçom segurando um buquê de duzentas flores Jackson impedia você de não se engasgar com o anel de diamantes.
• �� um grude, ama amar você. Coloca sua foto de wallpaper no telefone e é capaz de colocar sua comida preferida como senha de algo importante.
•Manda mensagem todo dia pra qualquer coisa, se não pode ficar por perto.
•ciumento demais, porém não admite. Diz que é maduro o suficiente para lidar com isso mas não pode ver um cara só dando uma olhadinha em você em uma festa que cruza os braços e a cara fecha na hora, odeia que você dê bandeira até pro ator de algum filme que vocês estiverem vendo juntos, porque para ele "eu sou o suficiente não? Sou famoso também pare de babar no goong yoo! Ele não te conhece, eu te conheço. Você tem que babar no seu marido isso sim! Já viu como eu sou lindo?"
• Palavras de afeto são a forma de amor dele e como ele se sente amado, se você não dizer "eu te amo" quando forem se despedir ele já começa achar que fez alguma coisa errada ou você esta brava com ele. Toque físico é algo realmente necessário. nem ele pensa, já é automático, as mãos dele encaixar nas suas ou na sua cintura em qualquer lugar que vão.
•Desde a primeira vez de vocês ele jurava que era uma dama, a boneca de porcelana que ele deveria tratar como tal. Tudo acabou quando você veio com uns pedidos cada vez mais sujos, gemendo a cada tapinha que levava, miando igual uma gatinha todas vez que ele a xingava até ele te tratar do jeito que queria.
•Ele tem uma carreira, empresa e um número considerável de artistas para liderar, o estresse e fatal. Mas ele gosta de te envolver nas coisas, quer sua opinião em tudo. Porque a vida dele gira em torno daquilo, e se ele não tem tempo o suficiente pra você ele vai dar um jeito de arranjar, e, a solução é enfiar você em tudo.
• Jackson é um emocionado, se joga de cabeça e ainda por cima é um cavalheiro querendo fazer tudo certinho. Com três meses ele já quer noivar pra casar e estudar a agenda da carreira pra ver quando vão começar a ter os filhos.
• Ao te ver assustada com a rapidez da coisas ele espera uma pouquinho (dois meses) e então vocês já vão estar morando juntos.
•Jackson quer uma família grande com uns cinco pirralhos correndo pela casa. Se você não compartilhar do sonho ele simplesmente vai se dar por vencido afinal ele diz "o corpo e o desejo é exclusivamente dela, vamos ter ou adotar se ela quiser" mas vai concentrar os esforços para ser o padrinho de todos os filhos dos seus colegas de grupo (exceto as crias do Bambam).
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Text
𝑼𝒑𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕
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𝖏𝖚𝖑𝖗𝖊𝖎𝖓/𝖏𝖚𝖑𝖘 || 𝟗𝖝 𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖗 || 𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖘 𝖆𝖈𝖈𝖊𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖉 || 𝖎𝖓𝖋𝖕-𝖙 𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖊𝖗 || 𝖍𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖘' 𝖍𝖎𝖉𝖉𝖊𝖓 𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖑𝖉 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒅: 22/09/23
𝑼𝒑𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅: 10/02/24
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mixtape: all i have left to give
i. how long can you stand the heat ii. fight off the light tonight and just stay with me (honey don't you leave) iii. i wanna see the sun rise (on your sins, just me and you)
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i. avoust xxix ii. óutobre xxxi iii. nouvèmbre xv iv. desèmbre xxvi v. febrié xxiii vi. mai xiii vii. juliet xxii viii. ???
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there you'll be
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COMING SOON
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COMING SOON
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mixtape: all i have left to give
ending 1: i don't wanna look at anything else (now that i saw you)
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COMING SOON
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COMING SOON
This masterlist is not final, and will be updated soonest. I'm just triggered by how disorderly my dash is and it's been itching my brain for so long lmao
Also, I know I write crossover fics, but the ones the ones under the artists listed are where they are the main focus
That's all for now kthx byeeeeiiii
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sweetestofchaos · 1 year
Text
Hold On Ft. Jackson Wang
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Genre: Slice of Life, Fluff (?)
Warning: Anxiety Attack, Grinding, Jackson in a mesh shirt, Body Rolling...nothing too crazy
Paring: Jackson x Reader
Rating: Teen (17+)
Summary: What starts out as a rough night morphs into the night of your life.
Word Count: 2.5K
A/N: Requested by the lovely @omgsuperstarg. Thank you so much for waiting and I hope this is okay. I wasn't sure if you were looking for something soft or smuty, so I went the softer route with a lil spice.
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You were here, finally. Tonight, was the night that you would get to see Jackson Wang perform in person on stage. You were a little bummed that his VIP tickets sold out before you could get them, but it happens. You knew that it was a slim to none chance. Your tickets weren’t bad, you were still pretty close to the stage, if you got lucky, you could still squeeze your way to the barriers. Just in case you wore a pair of custom made nike sneakers. They were all back with green and yellow crystals mixed together on the checkmark. Your outfit was very simple, you didn’t want to dress too crazy in case it got a little too hot or someone got a little too excited. The last concert you got dressed up for, someone’s ring got caught up in the ties of your shirt and you ended up flashing half the people around you.
A black mesh onesie that had an open back and cinched at the waist was paired with light washed jeans with rips in the thighs. The bedazzled green and yellow chunky belt added a little extra to the outfit and pulled everything together as it matched the mismatched yellow and green diamond earrings you wore. You wore your hair in its normal style and settled on a simple black winged eyeliner, a pop of silver shimmer in the corner of your eyes, a rose gold highlighter and lined your lips in black with a tinted lip gloss. 
As you finished getting ready, your phone rang and you saw that your friend from online was calling. The two of you meant online and just clicked, it would be the sixth time that you would see each other in person. She was able to get a ticket to Jackson Wang’s sound check and you offered to let her stay at your place so that she wouldn't have to pay for a hotel. You grabbed your car keys, snatched your phone from the dresser and answered it. You were hit with the sound of your friend breathing heavily and a muffled voice in the background.
“Hey, hey. Listen to me okay?” You quickly rushed out of the house and hurried to your car. “I’m on my way to you. I need you to breathe with me, kay?” You coached your friend through her anxiety attack. The phone sounded muffled for a moment before a new voice was on the line.
“Hey, um…this is Eddie. D-Do I need to do anything? Can I do anything to help?”
“Can you just stay with her, please? I’m fifteen minutes away. Is she outside the venue? God, I should have left with her.”
“We’re inside the venue. I passed her in the hallway and knew something was wrong.”
“Thank you, Eddie. I really appreciate you stopping to help her.” You glanced at the time on the dashboard and frowned. “If you're comfortable, she should have a bottle of klonopin in her bag, can you give her one. It will help with the attack.”
“One pill? Yeah. Yeah, okay.”
“I’ll be there soon. Please call me back if anything happens. Her password is 4687, it spells Got7.”
The man, Eddie laughed lightly and a smile pulled at your lips. Good to know the stranger had good taste in music.
“Security just got here, they want to move your friend to somewhere safer that is not out in the open. What’s your name? They can wait for you at the front of the venue.”
You gave your name to Eddie and hung up, determined to not crash as you sped towards the venue to help your friend. You reached the venue and parked, nearly crashing as you swerved into a spot. You made sure that you had your ID, phone and bag before you ran into the venue. You rushed past the long line of people waiting to get in and gave security your name as they tried to stop you from entering the building. 
“Right this way.” A guard led you into the building and you could hear the sound check starting up. You felt bad that your friend and the stranger, Eddie, were both missing it. The guard knocked on a door that had a do not enter sign on it and when the door opened you saw a young man that you didn’t know.
“Eddie?” You questioned and the guy smiled with a nod his head.
The two of you shook hands and you stepped inside the room. Your friend was curled into a ball on a couch with a bottle of her tucked into her lap. 
“Oh, sweetie.” You walked over and sat beside her. Silently, you pulled her into your arms and smoothed your hand over her hair while you kissed the top of her head. “Thank you, Eddie. I am so sorry that you missed part of the sound check. I can cashapp you for the trouble.”
Eddie waved you off as your friend started to cry into your shoulder. She muttered how embarrassed she was and you shushed her. She had nothing to be embarrassed about, these attacks happened to a lot of people and there was nothing wrong with it. Eddie chimed in with his two sense and your friend sighed. You helped her get herself together, thankfully you had some makeup in your bag and were able to touch her up. 
“Do you want to stay or go home?” You asked your friend and she wanted to stay. She would call it quits early if she felt another attack coming on. The guard from before led the three of you to the sound check and another guard gave you an upgraded ticket so that you could stay with your friend in case something happened. 
“The perks of being my emotional support human!” Your friend joked and you rolled your eyes as you melted into the crowd together with your new friend Eddie.
As people moved around, you slowly made your way to the front of the crowd and Eddie acted as your personal body guard as he made sure that no one touched your friend or got too close to her. You were thankful for him and the excitement for the actual concert started to hit once Jackson Wang disappeared from the stage. More people were let into the venue as the start time got closer and the same guard from before was in front of the barricade. He kept an eye on your friend and again you felt thankful for such kind people.
The whole venue was plugged into darkness and everyone screamed as the beginning note of 100 Ways started to play. Light slowly started to get brighter and smoke filled the stage before Jackson Wang himself appeared on stage. You thought your eardrums were going to bleed with how loud everyone had screamed. The set list was perfect, Jackson sang a lot of the songs that were your favorite. Your friend, Eddie and you sang along and danced your hearts out as Jackson threw his hips around on stage like no one business. The man looked good, dark make up on his face, silver blonde hair hung in his eyes and that black outfit…yeah mesh was made for him.
Water was thrown on the crowd, dancers interacted with those close to them and Jackson took a moment to address the crowd. His speech was nice, he spoke about himself, his hopes, his dreams and how he was feeling about himself nowadays. It was touching to know that he trusted everyone enough to share his thoughts and feelings so openly. After a few more songs, you noticed that Jackson had spotted someone. He kept coming over to your section of the crowd and interacted a lot more with those around you. Your friend touched his hand and you thought that she was going to die right there in front of everyone. Eddie was just as bad, the man almost dropped when Jackson tossed him a water bottle. 
You were happy that your friends were enjoying themselves. At some point Jackson disappeared from the stage and the whole place went nuts. You blinked and it seemed like he just popped up in your section right in front of the barrier. He stood in front of you and grinned as he adjusted the mic by his mouth.
“Hey. Do you have a boyfriend?”
Jackson looked right at Eddie and you laughed, “He’s a friend. No boyfriend.”
“Really?” Jackson sounded surprised and nodded his head before he waved his hand. “Come on up!” He watched as the guards helped you over the barrier and he took your hand in his once you were safely on the ground.
You had seen videos of Jackson online where he had pulled fans up on stage and danced with them. It was wild and sexy. It was something you had dreamed about many, many times and now it was your turn. You glanced over your shoulder to look back at your friends and they were foaming at the mouth. Jackson led you on stage as the notes to 'The Moment' started to play and placed you in a chair in the middle of the stage. The moment you sat down the beat dropped and Jackson Wang was body rolling in front of your face. The black mesh shirt he had on didn’t hide anything and you drank in every inch of his pecs, abs and the thin patch of dark hair and disappeared into his black dress pants. 
You felt hot, your face was warm and the music was so loud. Jackson was there in front of you and the next moment he wasn’t. He walked around you in a circle with the rest of his male dancers and you sat there numb and relaxed. So, he wanted to give a little dance, okay. Eye contact, and lots of it. Jackson didn’t look away from you once and you refused to back down from his challenge. He smirked as he dropped to his knees and body rolled slowly and when he rolled over and started humping the floor, his eyes were on you.
You bit your bottom lip and raised your eyebrow. Accepting your silent challenge, Jackson jumped to his feet and crowded your space. His legs were on either side of your thighs and he grabbed your face in his large hands. They burned your skin in the best way as he sang to you and booped your nose before he stepped away and started dancing again. The other dancers stroked your cheeks and winked at you as they moved about and you took it all in stride. A lap dance is a lap dance. Even if Jackson Wang was the one giving it, you weren’t going to back down.
Jackson came back in front of you and pulled you to stand up by your hand. The chair disappeared and it was just the two of you on stage dancing. He danced close, his body firm, sweaty and warm as he kept to the beat. You placed your hands on his shoulders and trailed them upward to the nap of his neck where you then fiddled with the ends of his hair and scratched your nails lightly against his skin. You felt Jackson shiver under your touch but his voice never wavered as he grabbed your hand and slid it down the length of his abdomen. He stopped just above his navel and you trailed your hands back, your fingers spread a little wider so that you could catch his nipple between them on purpose.
Jackson smirked and the song faded into 'Dead', where Jackson then grabbed your hand once again. He spun you around and pressed himself against your back as he sang in your ear. You felt his heart beating against your back and the warmth from his body seeped into your own. You were led into an open elevator and Jackson kept you close, as he pressed his forehead to yours, those icy blue contacts striking against his tanned skin tone. He continued to sing and you danced with him, giving the crowd more of a show than the rest of the fans that he pulled onto the stage.
You kept up with his body rolls and leaned into his touch. Your arms wrapped around the back of his neck as he sang, “So, hold on, are you really dead to the world? Slow down, you're not really dead to the world.” 
You swayed your hips to the beat as Jackson cupped your face in his hands softly, his thumb stroked the apple of your cheek. His hands went to your hips, his forearms rested on your sides while his hands hung respectfully above the small of your back. You hid your face in his shoulder and laughed which made Jackson rest his cheek against the side of your head.
“Right now, I'm about to take you to the house, be under covers, lovers, dead to the world. You told me never take your time in vain.”
The open elevator started to rise and you tightened your hold on him. You weren’t a huge fan of heights and your body tensed up a little. Jackson felt the tightness in your body and he pulled you into a hug as he finished out the song. His voice was strong and soothing in your ear as the elevator disappeared up out of sight. Jackson quickly turned his mic off and rubbed your back.
“I'm sorry. I didn’t ask if you were afraid of heights. Are you okay?”
“I’m good. I’ll be better back on the ground.” 
Jackson huffed a small chuckle and held you tightly as the elevator started to come down behind the stage.
“You can hang back here if you want or go back to your spot.”
“My friends-”
“They can come back too! I wouldn’t mind hanging with you all after the show…if you want?”
As the elevator touched the ground Jackson pulled away from you and you grabbed his hand. He looked down at your hand around his and back up at you.
“We would love to hang out after the show. I’ll be here.”
Jackson grinned and you let go of his hand as he turned and told one of the guards to grab your friends. Jackson rushed off for a quick outfit change and a staff member offered you a chair. You accepted it and waited for your friends to arrive backstage. You saw them before they saw you and you rushed to their side.
“Oh my God!”
“Bitch…what the fuck?!” 
Eddie and your friend were besides themselves as they gushed about how good you and Jackson looked together. You really didn’t mean to show out, you were just having fun. You didn’t want to waste a perfectly good opportunity to have fun, so you just enjoyed yourself and danced along. 
“We got invited to an afterparty…”
“What?!” Eddie and your friend were dumbfounded. An afterparty? W-With Jackson Wang?
“What? He thought I was cool, and you losers are cool by default.” 
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137 notes · View notes
mykoreanlove · 4 months
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Jackson on Kinjaz
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Your phone was blowing up constantly.
„Oh my god, did you see this?????“, your friend asked.
With shaking hands you clicked on the link.
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„I used to be critical on myself in my mind in a negative way. Not healthy. At all. I would call myself names and put myself down in my mind. I drank the most disgusting shakes for my body health but up here? I was rotting.“
„Yeah, yeah. I remember videos of that nasty shake. What did you put in there - chicken?“
„Gotta get my protein, man. But you know I would constantly feel guilty for what I have done or what I might do.“
„Like what?“
„Like. Okay, like did I practice enough? Is magic man good enough? What if I let everybody down? How will I cope? How will I live?
All these voices.. these fucking nagging voices were with me 24/7.“
„Damn that sounds tough. What did you do?“
„I thought it was impossible to fix because I tried so hard and nothing changed me. Or if it did, it would only last a couple of weeks and I’d be back to feeling like shit and talking down on myself.
Jackson, you moron, how could you do this? Did you really think you could make it? You don’t deserve this success. You don’t deserve to be happy.“
„Jackson, bro. I feel for you. Really.“
„Look, I’m just being honest. I would naturally think of punishments coming my way. I’d imagine injuring myself or loosing all my fans or money. I’d think of the most horrific shit late at night when I should be peacefully sleeping.
I would try to change my thoughts to change my feeling. I would rationalize my way out for hours to only find myself entering a new cave.“
„Like a merry go round.“
„Exactly, I was stuck. Same shit, different day. My gut always had this underlying feeling of tension.
I tried my best to give myself relief but like I said, I could not find Relief for longer than a week. Maybe a month at best.“
„Is that why you turned to alcohol? Because I remember you chugging down a bottle of Hennessy and thought to myself that’s not normal.“
„Oh, of course I started drinking more. I needed more. What used to make me pass out back then is like a cute little cocktail to me now.“
„Damn, that really is a lot to handle. Did you try other things, as well?“
„Look, I tried everything in the book. You name it, I tried it. Worked out. Meditated. Drank. Had sex. Nothing could give me what I craved so badly. Nothing. Until I found her.“
You swallowed hard.
You had no idea that he would share all this with the public. You were very well aware of his struggles but hearing him talk about them upset you. It broke your heart imagining him like that, all dim and broken.
Also, it made you nervous.
You had no idea that he would introduce you into the world like this.
You had no idea that he would reveal your relationship to his homies on a podcast.
Yet, you were intrigued.
„Her as in …?“
„You see, love is a funny thing, right? I didn’t plan to fall in love, nor did I want to but I kind of did. I found the one, man. I found the love of my life and I was lucky enough to have her love me back. Do you know how rare that is?“
„Yeah, it is for you. I remember our last interview and how we wanted to get you on tinder and shit.“
„Exactly! I used to be on my own for years. Years, man. I gave up on love completely, thinking this was meant for others but certainly not me. And then she came into my life. Like an angel that was coming down to help me. Save me even.“
„Your savior, huh?“
„I swear to god her love saved me. It saved me from drugs, it saved me from self destruction and first and foremost it saved me from myself. I gotta be honest man, if I hadn’t met y/n I wouldn’t even be here anymore.“
„Wow. That’s, that’s a pretty heavy revelation. I’m glad you’re doing better now.“
„Oh, I am. Management is probably going to kick my ass later but I don’t care. Let me loose fans, let me loose money. I don’t give a shit. If you support me now, you support the real Jackson Wang. And that’s me right now - happily coupled to the most beautiful soul on this planet. If you can’t handle that - my bad.“
„Okay guys, it’s over. China‘s most wanted bachelor is officially off the market. WHOOOO!!“
„Yeah, the king has finally found its queen.“
„So, what is she like?“
You paused the interview and took a deep breath. Jackson was very vocal of his feelings for you, but hearing it like that felt different. The biggest smile was plastered on his face as he was talking about you.
You as in his queen.
You as in future Miss Wang.
Hundreds of butterflies announced themselves in your stomach, making you giddy and joyful.
„Oh man, she is the best. Like, she is so breathtakingly beautiful. Inside and out. We have the best conversations. I feel like she is my best friend. Truly, no one gets me like she does. It’s just.. it’s effortlessly easy. We laugh a lot, we talk a lot, we share everything with each other. I’m just so grateful, man.“
„Yeah, I can see that. You’re grinning from ear to ear. Make sure to invite me to your wedding.“
„Like you invited me to your birthday?“
„Okayyyyy, let’s wrap it up. Guys, that’s it for today. Thank you Jackson, really appreciate you brother.“
You stopped the video, giggling at your petty boyfriend.
„Remind me to have a word with you once you’re back, yeah?“, you texted him.
It didn’t take him a second to instantly call you.
„Did you see it? Already? Damn babygirl, you’re quick“, he teased.
„You could have warned me, Wang!“
„I didn’t plan to say all that but I couldn’t help myself. It just.. it just came out of me. I really meant it though.“
„Everything?“
He knew exactly what you were implying.
„Oh, I’m gonna make you Miss Wang for sure. Rule my kingdom with me? Please?“
135 notes · View notes
sea-moon-star · 1 year
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La Dolce Vita || JW
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Pairing: Jackson Wang x f.reader
Genre: Fluff, Boyfriend!Jackson
WC: 0.5k
Summary: 11.15am (Grocery Shopping)
A/N: Thanks to BuzzFeed Thirst Tweets & Complex Snacked for providing top tier Jackson content hehe. Totally inspired by real events, this is me being accurate af lmao. 🌊🌙⭐️
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11.15am (Grocery Shopping)
Dating Jackson meant that you treasured every moment you had together. Owing to his busy schedule, even having him to yourself for an hour felt like a luxury. But often he had chores piled up that needed to be done in that same one hour. And so you'll had made it into a habit to do the most routine things together- from visiting the laundromat to cleaning the house. And he loved doing these domestic things with you, as he was able to shed the skin of being the famous star- Jackson Wang and instead was just Wang Jiaer around you. It meant doing most things together- with puppy Wang following you around everywhere you went. But grocery shopping was the one time you'll split up completely. He turns to the left aisle, you to the right aisle.
Jackson's grocery list
Almond Milk (1 carton)
Pasture raised eggs (2 dozen)
Avocados 3
Zucchini 1
Squash 1
Kale 1
Bell Peppers 3
Broccoli 2
Onions 6
Garlic (more is always better)
Extra lean (90%) beef 1
Salmon 1
Y/N's grocery list
Ramen (nongshim spicy red)
Whole Wheat Bread
Penne Pasta
Parmesan Cheese
Potatoes
Onions
Garlic (more is always better)
Tomatoes
Mushrooms
Chillies
Coke
Clearly, one could see how your food choices could be simply described as veg-junk-spicy and his as non veg-organic-bland. You'll were poles apart, in your palates and had made your peace with the fact. With you, wearing a mask everytime he cooked something that gave off a pungent smell while he rolled his eyes & refused to kiss you when you'd just eaten something spicy that led to your skin feeling on fire.
But before you made it to the cash counter, you smiled at the oppositely laid out carts as you noticed some things in his cart that belonged to you & vice versa. Snacks & desserts held the key to both your hearts. In his cart were your all time favourites- choco pie, lindt & nutella. And you'd curated a list of his childhood treats from China such as rabbit milk candy, shanzha & sunflower seeds.
You knew each other's preferences perfectly & had managed to rub off the taste on the other as well. You could tell in the way he smiled, a grin stretching from ear to ear that he was pleased with your decisions & you chuckled fondly, seeing that he had managed to remember your cravings.
"You do realize we've both picked the cereal and ice cream?" You giggled & said.
"Never too much of those, am I right?" He replied as he shrugged & walked forward to pay the bill as you shook your head & followed him, interlinking your hand into his as he squeezed your hand tight. And while he made small talk with the cashier, you captured a mental snapshot of this perfect little outing, for this was just as joyful and memorable as any other grand date you'd been on. Life with your boyfriend was truly "La Dolce Vita"- a sweet boy, with a sweet tooth & a shopping bag filled with sweets.
"Why so impatient, princess?" He asked as he noticed you tapping your feet & nudging him with your elboe to rush things along. So you smirked & whispered softly in his ear, "I'm just eager to go home & eat some ice cream. Preferably off your abs, like that genius Ahgase suggested in the BuzzFeed thirst tweets video."
"Should've known it was you!! Why go to such great lengths when you could've just asked babe." He crooned back, his gaze so sultrily that you were worried he'd devour you right then & there. And you stood there frozen, as red as the Hawthorne berries in your hand. Waiting & bidding the time, till you finally got home.
Jackson & Y/N's grocery list
Big white rabbit creamy candy
Roasted sunflower seeds (spiced flavor)
Shanzha (dried hawthorne berries)
Lotte Choco Pie
Nutella
Lindt Liquor Chocolates
BR Bavarian Chocolate Ice Cream
Kellogg's Frosted Flakes
THE END. 🌊🌙⭐️
181 notes · View notes
kpopimaginings · 1 year
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Someone Like You - Jackson Wang
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A/N: This wasn’t requested, just a little idea that popped into my head! (And Jackson friends-to-lovers is my weakness)
You hated this. Jackson was your best friend, so you loved that he could come to you with anything, but when it was yet another person who wasn't right for him, you hated it.
Jackson had always had such a big heart, but he let people in too easily sometimes. He would fall so quickly that often whoever he was seeing didn't feel the same way. Or, unfortunately, in some cases they were interested for the wrong reasons.
Whatever it was that caused it, things would always end with a heartbroken Jackson crying to you about it.
"Do you want to talk about it?" you asked Jackson.
The minute he turned up at your door with red eyes you knew. You pulled him to your sofa where you were now sat with a crying Jackson leaning on your shoulder.
"I just don't get it," he sobbed. "What do I do wrong?"
"I don't know, Jacks," you said, trying to comfort him. "You're perfect as far as I'm concerned."
He let out a chuckle and a sniff as he sat up and tried to clean his face. "I'm sure I don't look perfect."
You fought the urge inside you to tell Jackson exactly how perfect he was to you. You'd had a crush on him for a while that you just couldn't shake, but right now he needed a friend.
"What did she say?" you asked, trying to get to the bottom of the heartbreak so you could comfort your friend.
He gave a little shrug and shook his head. "She didn't like me," he muttered.
"Then you didn't do anything wrong," you explained.
"No, it's not..."
You could tell he wanted to tell you what had happened but was struggling to get the words out. Sitting silently you let him take his time.
"She liked the idea of me, of my job, my money," he admitted softly.
"This is why I said before you get too attached they need to meet me and/or your mum. We'll be your screening process!"
Instead of answering he leant into you again, this time wrapping his arms around you. You happily returned the embrace, giving him a comforting squeeze.
"Why can't I just find someone who likes me for me? Who will be there for me like I want to be there for them?"
You sucked in a deep breath as you bit your tongue yet again. Honestly, without confessing you didn't know what to say.
"Someone who..." Jackson looked up at you then, his puppy eyes so watery you felt a twinge in your heart. "Someone like you."
Well that comment was doing nothing to quell your crush. The pair of you seemed to freeze in the moment, each second guessing what the other might be thinking.
Without warning, Jackson threw caution to the wind and leant up, pressing his lips to yours.
Your common sense kicked in quickly and you pulled back.
"Wait," you said.
Jackson swore under his breath and withdrew completely.
"No, wait," you encouraged.
"I always fuck up, see, it's just who I am."
"Jackson," you snapped.
He stopped what he was saying and looked at you.
"You have no idea how much I want to kiss you back-"
"But?" he interrupted with a sigh, knowing it was coming.
"But, are you sure this is the right time? You just got out of a relationship. I'm here for you completely, but I don't want to be a rebound."
"Wait, wait. Hold on, can we back up? You said you want to kiss me? You arent objecting because you dont like me back?"
You chuckled. "You know that wasn't the important bit of what I said."
"Ok, but..." he pried, trying to get more information out of you.
"Fine, I've had a crush on you for ages, but you've needed me there, well, we've needed each other, and I wasn't going to risk that by confessing. I know what you've been through the last couple of years and I wasn't about to let you struggle alone because of a dumb crush."
"You're literally everything I said I wanted," Jackson explained, now edging closer to you again. "You've been there for me through everything, and honestly, I feel a connection with you beyond what I've felt with any other friend. You should know I will always care about you more than a rebound." He gently took your hand. "Maybe I went about this the wrong way, but I want to be with you."
"I want to be with you too," you admitted. "Just, maybe, let's take it a bit slower?"
Jackson nodded enthusiastically.
With a smile you leant in a pecked a quick kiss to his cheek before pulling him back in to rest against you.
"Feeling happier now?" you asked him.
"Yes," he replied simply and snuggled his head against you.
You couldn't help the smile that grew on your face as you held Jackson close. Never again would have you have to worry about him turning up on your doorstep heartbroken. You were planning on taking good care of his heart now you knew he was willing to let you in.
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NAVIGATION  |  GOT7 MASTERLIST
235 notes · View notes
fullsunstrawberry · 3 months
Note
OKOK SOOOO
Cheating on your manipulative & cheating bf with his enemy haechan. Hooking up with him and it became a regular occurrence until it you both grew feeling for each other. Your bf doesn't find out until you break up with him & almost immediately you make your & Haechan’s relationship public while shading him so everyone knows he cheated while u & hyuck get to be the new cute couple 🤭🤭🤭
-💚 anon
-💚anon
OOOOOOO OKAYYYY,,, i’m gonna make this into a long one so this will definitely take longer but i already can’t wait to write this 😍😍
LIKE HAECHAN ALWAYS TEASES YOU CAUSE HE KNOWS IT GETS UNDER UR BFS SKIN AND HE FINDS OUT THAT UR BF CHEATED AND HES THE ONE THAT SUGGESTS HOOKING UP TO GET BACK AT HIM ‼️‼️ haechan being a teasing little shit too omg,,
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18 notes · View notes
pi3tros · 11 months
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INTO YOU
summary: jackson has been gone for months, and the worst thing about it was not seeing you. All he wants to do is please you and make you happy but how can he do that when the two of you are countries apart? Finally. The man was off tour and back home. And he wanted to do nothing more but to show you what you were missing for those torturing months.
pairing: idol! jackson x baker! reader established relationship, smut & fluff, reader is a bit black coded ngl
genre: romance
rating: 18+
warnings: groping, grinding, kissing, p in v sex, soft dom jackson, choking, creampie, spanking, slight degradation, little bit of food play with whip cream, hair pulling, overstimulation, daddy kink, raw sex (wrap it up guys), breeding kink, cum play, fingering, m and f receiving, reader is thick asf, size kink, both hands on the screen y’all PLS 😭, he is a freak like the dirty talk is jaw dropping, bros pwussy whipped, jackson is 8 inches 😝😝😝
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Jackson drove quickly down the street, the moon out and street lights flickering on. He gripped on the steering wheel, rings digging into the expensive leather. When he said he needed to see you that was a understatement, the man was literally going insane with the thought of seeing you again. Jackson needed to breath the same air as you again, touch you, look at you.
When he got the call from his manager that the concerts have been cancelled due to the stadium having issues and he was on break for a month, he had never been happier.
Pulling into the driveway seeing your Porsche in the driveway that he had bought you for your birthday, looking through the house seeing that the living room and kitchen lights where on. He rushed out of the car grabbing his luggage, not even bothering to lock the car as he power walked to the door. With shaky hands taking out his keys, unlocking the door carefully. Rolling his suitcase onto the clean floors, leaving it by the door.
Rnb played in the background, the smell of honey and treats filling his nose. He sighed, feeling rather emotional as he took off his coat. He could hear you humming in the background as pans slapped against the marble countertops, it smelt like cookies and your vanilla perfume.
Walking inside the house, being met with your side profile as you cut up the bars of chocolate. Curls put in a ponytail and you were still in clothing rather than pajamas. Tight jeans that fit every single curve of your body, hugged the thickness of your thighs and behind. Then a new sweater that was tight as well, pastel pink and had a low cut showing your white Lacey bra that held your plump tits so well.
He felt like he could bust in his pants right there and then.
Looking up from the cutting board with wide eyes, not expecting to see your fiancé back home so soon. You weren’t complaining tho. The corners of your plush lips turned upward, smiling brightly. “Baby, missed you so much!” You sat down the knife, basically skipping towards him.
He yanked you towards him, muscular arms trapping you in a tight hug squeezing the air out of your body. His nose pressed against the side of your neck inhaling the vanilla perfume that he had missed so much. His right hand trailing down to your behind groping you as his fingers dug into the material.
“Missed you,” smooch “so,” smooch “much.” He kissed every part of your face to your neck, making you laugh from the ticklish sensation on his lips. You had him wrapped around your finger unknowingly. “You don’t even know girl,” he muttered, slamming his lips against yours. Large palm slapping against your ass making you gasp, taking the chance the slip his tongue in your mouth.
You tasted like chocolate and whipped cream, leaving him wanting more and more of your sweetness with ever gasp of your mouth. He made you dizzy, from his hands running up your body to his tongue gliding against the inside of your mouth. Stumbling backwards as his heavy weight pressed against you.
The oven dinged, you pulled your head back making him whine. Already missing the taste of your lips as you rushed towards the oven, grabbing the glove pulling out the pan, then the other. Thanks to Jackson’s wealth you had a luxurious kitchen, atleast 4 ovens for you to cook and bake freely.
Wiping the spit that trickled down his chin with his Dior shirt, following you like a puppy as he watched you press your finger against the hot sugar cookies making sure they where the right temperature. Then bending down picking them with a toothpick making a small opening for inside the cookies. Grabbing whip cream filling the cookies up.
Jackson cursed himself for having a dirty mind, waiting patiently for you to be done. Watching you as you put some of the home made whip cream in your mouth tasting it. “Don’t do that,” he said looking at you with a dazed expression.
“Do what?” You raised a eyebrow, filling your mouth up with more of the whip cream. Some of it dripping down onto your chest. He groaned shaking his head at that, growing a even harder through his sweatpants. Jackson was really trying his best to be a good man and let you finish whatever you were doing so after he could make you forget your own name. But that plan wasn’t going to last with your behavior.
His pointer finger trailed up your chest collecting the whip cream, then shoving his finger in your mouth. “Stop that.” He scolded you, feeling your tongue swirl around the tip of his fingers. At this point in time he was painfully hard, he could feel the pre cum leaning down his girth. Cock throbbing like a heartbeat. It was that bad.
“Your the one who put your finger in my mouth.” You sassed back as his finger slipped out of your mouth, earning a harsh slap on your behind. Giving him a look as you turned back towards the cookies. The counter was quite messy, all your packaging and ingredients displayed everywhere. Grabbing the plastic bags that had your bakery name on them.
Carefully putting the cookies inside humming to the summer walker song in the background. Feeling your fiancé hover on you once again, the taller man pressing into you as he watched you do what you do. Eyes not focused on the cookies tho, more on his crotch pressed in between your cheeks.
He let out a sigh, hips moving slowly as he got a tiny bit of relief from grinding against you. His large hand sliding under your sweater resting on your belly. “Jackson stop, tryna’ focus.” You whined, feeling your panties get sticky from arousal as he bucked against you. Trying to act unbothered even tho you met some of his thrusts.
“Take a break then baby,” he muttered, gently tilting your head to the side trailing wet kisses down your neck. Sucking and biting down leaving dark hickeys on some spots.
“But I have to have these done by the morning,” you let out a moan at the end feeling his hand squeeze your tit under your bra. His thumb rubbing slow circles against your nipple. He twitched against you, the sound music to his ears.
“I’ll do it for you.” He kissed your temple, turning you around in a swift motion. Grabbing the back of your thighs lifting you up easily. He gripped your thighs heading upstairs quickly, your stomach bubbling with anticipation. Opening your bedroom door that was clean as always.
He threw you on the bed, gasping as he yanked you back down by your ankles. Unzipping your jeans grabbing both sides pulling the material down your legs, undressing you himself. The man didn’t want you to lift a finger. He took off your sweater as well, hands slowly running down your side.
“Pretty,” he muttered, eyeing the matching lingerie set he got you before he left. Carefully taking off your panties, all of his movements slow and sensual. Grabbing your thighs spreading your legs. He let out a shaky sigh, thumb trailing down your cunt. Bringing his thumb to his mouth sucking on it lightly.
“So wet, all for me?” He raised a eyebrow looking at you, pressing against your clit rubbing slow and harsh circles. Your legs snapping close but he opened them back up immediately, he smiled at that. Laughing at you tauntingly as you where already dazed out from his simple movements.
“Uh-huhhhh,” you let out a yelp as he stuffed his two fingers in your hole, thick and long filling you up just right. Fingers pumping in and out harshly, his other hand keeping a strong hold on your thigh so you didn’t snap it shut once again. You felt your soul leave your body for a second, eyes rolling back as his fingers curled inside of you.
It’s been months, and you where so damn sensitive. Everything seemed 10x better since you was touch deprived, vibrator and your own fingers not doing as good as him. He had a wicked smile on his face, hand removing from your thigh pressing down onto your stomach to keep you down from bucking up. “You gotta’ stop movin’ so much babe.” He teased, keeping you in place as his finger’s relentlessly moved in and out.
Your arousal trailed down your butt to the sheets, the room loud with your moans and sound of your wet cunt. Legs shaking violently as he collected spit, spitting down onto your pussy watching it trail down. “J-jackson s-slow downnn t’ much!” You whined grabbing his wrist trying to get him to slow down, he slapped your hand away.
“Uh-uh sweetheart.” He grabbed both of your wrist with his free hand, tightly wrapping his fingers around leaning forward as your thighs rested against his. Placing your hands on the bed, he huffed curling his fingers once again. Bullying your walls, thumb working as well.
He groaned, eyeing the soaked bedsheets. “Your so wet, damn.” Watching as your hole squeezed his fingers as he pumped them inside you, taking them out replacing them with his tongue. His nose pressing into your clit, back arching as you let out loud moan that bounced against the walls.
Thighs squeezing his head as he leaned forward, your thighs pressing against your own stomach as his tongue curled pumping in and out. “Mmph!” You bit against your hand, trying to contain your moans since you were so damn loud the neighbors could probably hear. And with one last curl of his tongue you came hard, cum trailing down your fiancés chin as he licked it all up. Panting as he backed up, standing up again.
“What do you say?”
“Thank you daddy.”
“Good girl.” he gave your cunt a loud slap, untying his sweatpants taking them off. Then his shirt, then finally his boxers. His dick was leaking badly, tip angry and red. Veins extra purple. He was thick and long, curving to the right. Wrapping his hand around his dick hissing, stroking himself slowly.
“Ready?” He asked, giving your belly button a kiss as he pushed you farther down the bed, leaning down as his arms rested in each side of your head. You simply nodded, his lips pressing against your cheek as he lined himself up.
The both of you moaned as he slowly slid himself in, his eyes squeezing shut as he bottomed out. Letting out a grunt as you squeezed him dry. He fit in perfectly, he had been inside you so many times your pussy probably was shaped like him.
Leaning upward spreading your legs farther as he waited for you to adjust from the burning sensation that was painful to be honest. “J-jackson,” you whined, covering your eyes with your arm.
“Right here honey,” he ran his hand up and down your thigh, slowly sliding out then slamming back inside, hips beating against yours. You could barely think straight, his cock curving so nicely inside of you kissing your cervix each time. Mouth in a O shape as you let out the sluttiest moans.
“T-taking me so good sugar, d-doing so mmph good!” He praised, eyes focused on the way he slid in and out inside you. Your moans only hyping him up more, squeezing your waist as he pumped inside of you. Legs shutting close but he yanked them back open. It was to much, he didn’t even give you a second to recollect from your last orgasm.
“Keep these legs open baby,” he groaned loudly, hand sliding up in between your breast grabbing your neck squeezing it. Slowing down his thrusts, body flinching as he slammed into you harder and slower. Back arching further as he took the chance sliding his arm under your back lifting you up, heels digging into the bed as he thrusted into you from a whole different angle.
“O-oh my goshhhhh, w-wait!” You whined loudly, slapping his shouler as the feeling was getting overwhelming, eyes squeezing shut as he pushed his hips upward. Gripping your waist so hard it would probably leave a mark.
“Holy—baby your squeezing me so damn tight right now,” he muttered, hand moving down to your already red cheek. Slapping it harshly leaving a print, tears staining your cheeks as you let out a sob, biting onto his shoulder as he switched the position once again. Your ass in the air as he pressed your head down into the pillow.
“Gonna, fuck, put a baby inside you, stuff you full with my cum. You like that? Like the sound of that sweetheart?” He panted, arching your back as you slammed against him. Hand repeatedly slapping against the skin of your cheeks till it felt raw, grabbing your hair yanking you upward. Shoving his tongue inside of your mouth, sliding his hand down your stomach playing with your clit.
He leaned back, spreading your cheeks wide watching himself slide in and out. “Pussy to good, holy fuck.” You moaned against the pillow as he slowed down, fingers moving quickly as your legs shook. Cumming hard as it slid down his cock, he didn’t stop tho. Loud groans echoing in the room as he continued to hit it from the back so hard his hips turned pink.
“Fuckkkkkk,” he groaned, cumming inside of you. Pumping himself inside letting out a whine from how sensitive he was, panting as he slid out.
Cum dripped down in between your ass, but he was quick to collect it with two fingers. Stuffing it right back inside. “Can’t let anything go to waste sweetheart.”
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