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jae-daddy · 3 years

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im jaebum mini series

one / two / three / four / five / six (final) masterlist

pairing: jaebum x reader x jinyoung genre: friends, angst, jealousy plot: you and jaebum have been really great friends. things have been going smoothly because neither of you were in a real relationship, flings? sure, but girlfriends/boyfriends? no. so when Jaebum starts going out with Emma (a bitch), you can’t help but act out <3 a/n: im sorry, I didn't yugyeom would turn so wild yikes. hope you enjoy <3 but this fucking gif!!!! omfggggg AHHHHHHHHH

Okay, so things were not going according to plan.

You had to bring back Yugyeom, aka Dickdown 9/10, back into the game.

It had been three months since Jaebum officially started going out and nothing was changing. They were continuing as normal; Emma being a bitch and Jaebum acting as if he loves her.

It was quite sad really to see Jaebum slowly lose his sunshine. But he had chosen this path, but his destination will not be happily ever after with Emma. It will be with you; you are going to deviate him from the path he was taking towards his doom.

After endless nights spent in your room, alone, after you sent the boys away. You would think about how to make Im Jaebum realise that he, in fact, loved you and not Emma the bitchy hook-up girlfriend.

It took time but you finally figured it out.

You had always known that you wanted to fuck Jaebum one day, but you knew that day would come eventually. But when you saw that window close, you realised it needed to be now. So, you just have to show Jaebum the window to fuck you was closing too, then he’ll leave Emma, and rail you and you’ll live happily ever after.

You needed a boy to do this with, and after endless swipes and scrolling through your contacts, you decided you needed him back. Jaebum already knew Yugyeom existed, and his dick down game was amazing too. If you had to be loyal (while going out with Yugyeom to make Jaebum jealous) you would preferably do it with someone who can make you cum two times (even you couldn’t do that).

And no, by make you cum twice, you don’t mean make you cum the second time after a little relaxation. No, he made you cum twice at once; cum, a little touchy touchy, cum again.

It was truly fucking magic.

Yugyeom was truly magical. You didn’t know why he lacked that one point.

Oh, well.

But it seemed like the plan was working well.

Jaebum studied Yugyeom as Yugyeom politely chatted with Emma.

He didn’t care the first time Yugyeom showed up to the catch-up dinners. He acted surprised and thought it was you just calling him back for a good time.

But then the third time happened, and the fourth. And now as Yugyeom sat next to you for the sixth time, Jaebum was confused and bewildered seated in front of you.

You were a true master brilliance.

You sighed as you sipped your wine gracefully.

You scrunched your face at the taste and swapped it with Jaebum’s whiskey. Jaebum gave you a pointed look, but you pouted and Jaebum rolled his eyes as he took a sip of your wine.

“Seems like things are going great,” Emma poked, trying to look for holes in the relationship between Yugyeom and you.

You beamed at her as you leaned against Yugyeom, “As you said, Emma, love happens when it happens.”

Jaebum left out a scoff from the side, and you bit the inside of your cheeks to stop yourself from grinning in victory.

“Aww,” she cooed, her lips smiling but eyes gleaming with evil. “How did you guys get back together?”

“It’s quite romantic, really,” Yugyeom smiled lovingly at you, making Jaebum’s face twist with distaste as he quirked his eyebrows in disbelief. You nodded along, satisfied with how delightfully this was working out, “Y/n called me up a month after she broke things with me. In the time we were separated she realised how much she loved me.”

“Really?” Jaebum croaked, giving you a knowing smile. He knew how much bullshit that was. During that one month away you were doing perfectly fine, in fact, you had told Jaebum all about your life going well and all the other guys you met.

There was no rain for a single moment in that short one month.

Yugyeom nodded, smiling innocently. He held your hand as he smiled at you softly. You looked away from his guys feeling ashamed.

You were such a bitch.

Absolute trash.

He was such a good guy with really fucking amazing sex skills and you were just using him in this little game.

You met his eyes, trying to smile as he squeezed your hand comforting you, “It’s okay. We’re together now.”

“Oh, are you exclusive?” Emma leaned forward with interest. You recognised what she was doing. She was doing this so if there were any feelings in Jaebum’s heart for you, they would go away because you were with someone else.

Silly her, Jaebum was just as fucked as you. If anything, this would draw him in closer to you.

“Not yet,” you replied curtly, you eyes darting to Jaebum’s before you lowered them to your drink, trying to avoid Yugyeom's.

“Not yet,” Yugyeom echoed, his voice a bit heavy.

“Oh,” she pouted, faking sympathy. “Take your time. It took Jaebum and I a while to get there, and look at us now.” She held his hand in hers and kissed the back of his hand.

You grimaced.

“How’s the book going?” You asked, after a while. Jaebum looked at you a small smile on his lips.

“It’s coming along great,” he beamed at you, his eyes almost disappearing. “Jinyoung is a great editor, he listens to what I want.”

“Has he said anything about Persephone yet?” You asked as you popped a fry into your mouth. Jaebum held his mouth open and you fed him one. “He acted like such a know it all.”

“He is knowledgable, y/n,” Jaebum teased, making you roll your eyes. “He hasn’t told me yet, but he’s having a meeting tomorrow, so I’ll know for sure the day after. You wanna come along?”

“Can I?”

“Sure, just don’t try to fuck him,” Jaebum shrugged. You watched him carefully, his tone was playful, but his eyes avoided yours and his shoulders looked tense.

“What are you not telling me?” You narrowed your eyes. Jaebum looked up with you, his eyes wide with pretend innocence.

He was hiding something.

“Does Jinyoung want to fuck me?”

“Maybe- No.” He answered sternly. “No, you cannot sleep with him.”

Yes. Fuck yes, please. You want a piece of that smarty good-looking cocky asshole.

“So he wants to?”

“Y/n,” he warned.

That’s not a no.

“Oh my, he was kind of cute.”

“Stop,” he groaned. “You cannot sleep with my editor.”

“I won’t.”

You lied.

“You won’t?”

Not until he was done with the book at least.

“I won’t,” you held both your hands up, as you stared at him in accusation, “I will not ruin your book, Jaebum. You have no faith in me.”

“I do, y/n,” Jaebum gasped, trying to hold your hand but you took it away. He reached for it. He caught it and held it as his thumb drew soothing circles at the back. “I have faith in you-”

“But not him because he wants to rail me?” You smiled, and Jaebum smacked your hand away with an annoyed smile.

“You are so annoying.”

“You love me,” you blew him a kiss, and he rolled his eyes.

You chuckled looking over to the side to find Yugyeom and Emma watching the both of you.

Shit, you forgot about Yugyeom.

“Get used to it,” Emma laughed lightly, but there was no smile on her face as she brought the glass to her lips, “They tend to forget other people exist too often.”

Jaebum stared at the table, biting his lip as if he knew he would have to deal with this later. He bought the wine glass to his lips and began chugging it down.

You peered over at Yugyeom who stared between you and Jaebum, “Have you both ever fucked?”

Jaebum choked spraying the wine over you. You gasped, freezing as you felt droplets fall down your face.

“What the fuck, Jae?”

“Shit,” Jaebum laughed, coughing. You tried to hold on to the anger but it slipped away as you found yourself trying to stop yourself from laughing. Jaebum coughed harder as he began choking on his laughter, “Sorry.”

You both fall into fits of laughter as Jaebum reached over and dabbed your face with a napkin, “God, you should’ve seen your face y/n.”

“You’re lucky I enjoy you too much to kill you,” you snorted taking the napkins and dabbing yourself dry. “You’re such a cunt.”

“Hey, blame your nine outta ten!” Jaebum laughed holding up his hand. You froze as you bit your lip.

“Nine out of ten?” You felt Yugyeom stare at your face.

“Oh, that was his rating wasn’t it, y/n?” Emma added, you turned to look at her and then straight across at Jaebum.

He told her.

It wasn't a big deal, but he fucking told her.

“What, so you share this everyone?” Yugyeom snorted, his voice edged with anger.

“Hey, man, calm down. it’s not that serious-” Jaebum spoke softly, trying to diffuse the tension.

You kept looking at him, how could he tell her?

“Yeah, Yugyeom,” Emma added, her voice fast-paced with phoney panic. “She does this for all her one night stands. You’re one of the highest, or was it the highest?”

Her eyes met yours. You noticed that tiny twist at the corner of her lips.

She wasn’t trying to show Jaebum how in love Yugyeom and you were to get him to stop liking you. She was trying to ruin you and Yugyeom.

That conniving little bitch.

“Oh thanks,” Yugyeom got up, throwing his napkin onto his plate.

Shit.

Fuck.

What are you supposed to do? Are you meant to chase after him?

You don’t even like him that much. It was only a matter of time anyways.

But what happened here wasn’t good, you did hurt him. But at least it was a good rating, a fucking nine out of ten. It could’ve been worse, imagine if he was a four, that would’ve been embarrassing.

But he was obviously hurt enough to storm out of here. You should stop him, shouldn’t you?

At least for the sake of the plan.

And it was a good time, you can’t just let him walk away hurt.

“Yugyeom, wait,” you called out as he disappeared out the door. You shot up from your seat, tossing your napkin on the table, “Shit.”

You ran after him like a lunatic person. The lady at the counter tried to stop you, but you pointed to the table, “My friends and my purse is there, I’ll be back.”

You didn’t wait for her to reply and ran out of the building. You found him a few feet away and you chased after him. Your feet began burning in the heels, and your heels disgracefully slapped against the pavement with loud clacks that echoed through the late-night streets.

“Yugyeom, stop,” you rasped as you reached for his shoulder. He turned when you touched him, and you held in a gasp.

You are a terrible person. You are a horrible person.

He looked at you with so much hurt and betrayal that it made your heart stop. You didn’t even love him, and you felt so terribly bad for the way you hurt him.

“I’m sorry, Yugyeom,” you breathed, as he gently pushed your hand away from his shoulder. “This was before we broke it off. I told him in the beginning, I didn’t think he would tell Emma. I’m sorry.”

Yugyeom just shook his head as he stared up at the starless night sky.

“Come on, Yugyeom,” you snorted, trying to bring in some humour. “It was a good rating anyway-”

“No, just stop.”

“What?”

“Just stop,” he laughed, his eyes not focusing on you because of how enraged he felt. “You don’t like me. I’m not stupid, y/n. I’m not blind. I know you like that shithead in there.”

“He’s not a shit head-”

“Oh, he’s not?” Yugyeom snorted, he chuckled darkly, without any humour, “He just acts like that and gets away with that.”

“What are you talking about?” You shook your head confused.

“He and his girlfriend have been nothing but assholes to me from the day I stepped inside that restaurant with you. His girlfriend being a bitch- I don’t know why the fuck she being that way, but she was. But, him. He was being an ass because I was with you. I was the one fucking you. He couldn’t stand that-”

“Yugyeom, we’re just friends-”

“Right, just friends. Fuck, you’re stupid if you think friends are like that.”

Omg Yugyeom, that is exactly what you have been saying since day one. But you need to make Jaebum realise that, so let’s go back inside, Yeomie.

“Let’s just go in,” you pleaded, sighing.

“No,” he shook his head.

“Okay, let’s go back home.” You reached for his hand, but he jerked it away, forcefully making you stumble back. You bumped into something and regained your balance.

“I was really willing to give this a try y/n,” he spat at you. The sweetness and loving-goodness on his face vanished as he scoffed at you, “But you are nothing but a fucking slut. You don’t have a heart, you’re dead inside. You should really stop fucking other people to fill that empty void inside you. You will always remain as lonely as you are right now.

“No one will ever be able to love you. And you know what? You won’t remain attractive forever. And when you can’t get dick anymore, you’ll realise just how ugly you are inside. The only thing you’ll be left with is some fucking disease or worse, a child who would hate having a worthless whore like you as their mother-”

You can’t think of anything. It’s all blank. There’s not even a ringing, there is no bright whiteness blanketing your mind. There is nothing as you stand there soaking in the words he said to you.

It hurts...

You saw the leer on his lips start to grow into a grin, as a frown settled on yours.

But you didn’t say anything.

And then, you saw a fist fly towards Yugyeom’s face. It was all in slow motion.

You saw the panic and fear in his eyes as he focused on that strong fist flying towards his lips; that smirk falling as he cried in slow motion.

You heard the crack. You saw spit fly out his mouth. You saw his eyes shut as he groaned falling to the ground in pain.

And then the world sped up again.

You saw Jaebum climb onto him. Yugyeom’s collar was tight in his grip as he landed another punch on his face. Yugyeom cowered groaning as he started to bleed red.

And then another punch, and another.

Your hands were shaking as you pulled Jaebum off Yugyeom, “Jaebum, stop.”

You pulled Jaebum off with all your weight, your fingers wrapping around his knuckles as they whitened around Yugyeom’s collar. He pulled Yugyeom up with him, his eyes dark with anger.

You pushed them apart and squeezed between them. You turned to Jaebum, holding onto his wrist to make him drop his hold on Yugeyom.

“Jaebum, please stop,” you cried, and he glanced at you for a moment before staring back at Yugyeom.

Jaebum looked at back down at you as you pleaded. His jaw tight as he shook Yugyeom by the collar, you trembled in panic. Jaebum leaned in close to Yugyeom, his front pressing against your body. You placed your hand on Jaebum's chest to hold him back.

“Get the fuck out of here,” Jaebum sneered at Yugyeom. Yugyeom snorted, the blood smearing over his cheek. “Don’t you dare ever come near her again! You hear me?”

“Jaebum,” you begged softly, as he let Yugyeom fall back with a jerk.

Yugyeom stumbled back but found his balance, he walked away holding his hand up, “Keep your slut.”

“You fuck-” Jaebum snarled towards him, but you stopped him, grasping his front.

You made him look at you, as you held his cheek. You shook your head frantically, and Jaebum calmed down as his raging eyes met yours, “Please don’t.”

Jaebum bent to meet your eyes as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. He held your face delicately as his eyes searched over you, “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head. You stood there letting Jaebum check over you. He finally took a deep breath as he took a few steps away from you.

He looked up to the sky before he closed his eyes. He ran his hands through his long dark hair before linking his fingers at the back of his neck. His head faced the ground, his eyes closed, taking deep breaths in.

You stood there on the empty pavement, watching Jaebum as he calmed himself down.

You were shaking.

You were shaking too much, and you felt so cold. You were shivering, but it was a nice summer night tonight. Your teeth were clattering too much, for the wind to be the cause of it.

Your heart was still pounding in your ear. Your hands shook by your side as you waited for Jaebum.

You just wanted to go back in and finish your dinner. You wanted to return back to normal.

“This is exactly what I have been saying, y/n,” Jaebum spoke, his cold voice cutting through you. “This is what I mean when I said I can’t always look after you.”

He didn’t need to do this for you. You didn’t need him to.

You didn’t say anything and just watched him as you folded your arms for some warmth. The chill suddenly getting worse.

“Is this- Is that the kind of boys you want to spend your life after?” He looked at you, his eyes judging. Your brows furrowed at his words, at the way he was looking at you. “If you keep on living your life like this, I won’t always be there to protect you.”

“I don’t need you to protect me,” you finally said. “I didn’t ask for your help. I had it under control.”

“You were just standing there, staring at him while he said all that to you!”

“Everyone is entitled to their opinion,” you weren’t the nicest to Yugyeom. You were using him. He wasn't important; his words didn’t affect you, you just hadn’t expected them and didn’t know how to react.

“Those were not opinions, y/n,” Jaebum took a step towards you, his jaw jutting out. He was mad. “He was insulting you, calling you those names. Saying those things to you.”

“It doesn’t matter to me,” you shook your head, as you looked at Jaebum. You didn’t know why he was acting like this.

If anything you should be mad at him.

“Of course it doesn’t,” Jaebum chortled darkly, as he rolled his eyes. “You didn’t like him, you just brought him around for laughs.”

“I did like him.”

A lie.

“Oh really? You did?” He retorted, sarcastic.

“Why not?” You took a step towards him. You hated fighting. “Emma always says to find love so I was giving love a chance.”

“Oh stop that fucking bullshit,” Jaebum groaned, as he rolled his eyes.

“No, you stop,” you told him. You took a step forward and pressed your index finger into his chest. “The only reason this all happened was that you brought up the rating.”

Okay, low blow. You knew that was not the reason, but you needed something to shoot at him with. You can’t just stand there and listen to Jaebum.

And you were mad about this. How could he tell her things you’ve told him. What else has he been telling her?

Did he tell her about that incident where you peed yourself?

“You even fucking told your little girlfriend about it,” it was your turn to scoff up at him. You pressed your finger into his chest making him take a step back. “You fucking told her something I told you in confidence, Jaebum.”

“That wasn’t even that important,” he moaned, defending himself.

You shook your head, feeling your cheeks heat.

“It is important because you told her something I had told you. You are my friend, not her. What else have you told her that I’ve told you?” Jaebum stared down at you, his lips curling into a furious frown.

“Do you go and tell her everything in detail. Tell her all my little secrets. Do you have fun-”

“I have to tell her shit because you fucking act like this.”

“What?”

“I ignore it, but subtlety isn't really your forte, y/n. I see the way you both look at each other. Why would she not feel uncomfortable with me hanging out with you when you act like that?”

“Your precious girlfriend keeps it going too, Jaebum. it's not just me. And what do you mean by act like that? Like what?"

“Like a fucking a brat!”

Fuck off.

A brat? Really.

“Oh, so you can’t hang out with brats? Really? Say what you really mean, Jaebum!”

“You sleep with anyone who blinks at you, y/n. Why would she not be scared?”

You took a step back, hurt.

“Don’t act like a fucking saint, you were fucking anything that walked until a few months ago.”

“I’ve changed.”

“Fuck off you have,” you howled, laughing. You sobered meeting his eyes as you took a step dangerously close to him. “I see the way you look at other girls, Jae.”

You’ve seen the way he looks at you.

“Don’t act like you don’t want to fuck them.”

Don’t act like you don’t want to fuck me.

“I don’t,” he took a step closer to you. Your feet in between his, your nose brushing against his. His forehead resting on yours, his lips so close to yours.

He wasn’t looking at your eyes anymore. His gaze focused on your lips.

His hands gripped your waist, so tight it hurt, as he pressed you against him.

You gulped tilting your head towards him.

“I don’t,” he whispered. He closed his eyes as he blew out a low breath.

“I don’t,” he repeated more to himself.

He let out a sigh as he untangled from you.

“Let’s go in,” Jaebum said, offering you a hand, after a moment.

You didn’t take it. You stared at it, and then at Jaebum.

“We said things we didn’t mean to, let’s go back inside, y/n.”

You looked at his hand. Your chin trembled as you met his eyes again.

Fucking shit don’t cry.

Damn it.

You felt your vision blur.

Damn.

“I didn’t care what that little shit had to say about me. What he says doesn't matter to me, he is no one to me,” Jaebum’s eyes softened, his lips parted as he saw a tear fall down your cheek.

Jaebum had never seen you cry. Only once, and that was it.

“But I care what you say,” you couldn’t continue as you shut your eyes tightly to stop the tears. But they kept coming, and you furiously wiped your chin where you could feel them pool. You turned away from Jaebum as you ordered him, “Go get my coat and purse, and pay for mine and Yugyeom’s share with my card.”

You felt him hesitate, for a second before he walked into the restaurant.

You found a couple of stairs and sat on the third from the bottom.

You continued wiping your tears as you thought of what Jaebum said to you.

After five minutes, Jaebum walked back out and sat next to you.

“Emma’s going to finish her food before leaving,” he told you. You nodded, keeping your eyes down.

Don’t say it.

“Is that why you won’t have sex with me?” You asked, your voice raw and quiet. “Because I drop my panties at anyone who looks my way?”

“No,” Jaebum answered immediately. His voice soft and filled with regret. He turned towards you. You felt him hesitate, but he gently placed his fingers under your chin as he made you turn towards him. “I didn’t mean that.”

“You said it. People say things they think when they’re angry,” your bottom lip trembled, and you saw the panic rise in Jaebum as he took you in.

“I-” he started before sighing. He hugged you, hiding you into his chest and he wrapped his arm around you. “I would never think that about you. It’s just Emma and I have been fighting over this and I don’t know... I guess I heard it so many times it’s just in my head now. But that is not what I think at all.”

“It’s true though,” you replied, muffled.

Jaebum brushed your hair soothingly as he let out a little chuckle. You felt it vibrate through him. It felt good; his warmth, his heartbeat, his smell, the soft hum of his through his chest as he talked. “How can I judge you when I was like that too? I was worse than you. But there’s nothing wrong with having sex with a lot of people. It doesn’t make you any better or worse.”

“Then why not?” You asked, sniffling into his chest.

Jaebum stilled for a second, before replying, “I guess the timing was off.”

“Huh?” You leaned back to look up at him.

Jaebum wiped the tears from your cheeks, chuckling, “You look like a mess when you cry.”

You glared at him and he laughed.

“When we first became friends, I thought you weren’t into casual hookups. You had only had sex with your long-term boyfriend, so I left it. I was having hooking up with so many other girls, I thought it wasn’t right to do that to you. I wasn’t sure if you ever wanted to have sex with me, and you were such a good friend I didn’t want to ruin it. But then, you started hooking up with others.

“And I thought, ‘Oh, I guess she just didn’t want to hook up with me.’ And then the timing went off, and I didn’t want to risk losing you.”

You stayed quiet for a moment, taking it all in.

“You won’t,” you whispered. Jaebum looked at you.

He leaned forward and rubbed his nose against yours. You blew out a breath as rolled your eyes.

“I won’t," he whispered back.

What the fuck does that mean?

“Come on, I’ll take you home,” he got up, offering you a hand. You took it, standing up and grabbing your things off him.

“Not today, Jae,” you tried to give him a smile, but it didn’t quite make it. “I need to cry tonight.”

“I’m sorry about the things I said, y/n,” he took a step towards you, but you moved away. “I won’t tell Emma things anymore, I promise.”

You nodded, walking towards the Main Street with Jaebum following behind you. You waved a hand stopping a taxi; one stopped instantly, and you were pleasantly surprised.

You were about to get in, when you turned around to Jaebum, “Did you tell her about the pee incident?”

Jaebum’s eyes widened, and you shook your head with disappointment.

Fucking shithead, that was a take-to-your-grave secret.

“Never talk to me again,” you told him, getting into the taxi before he could reply.

You trust a boy with your soul, and he shows it to some chick for a bit of personality.

Disgusting.

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fantastic-bby · 3 years

Text

Pairing: Reader x Jackson

Word count: 1.2k

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Jackson thinks it’s a good idea to take the map from you while you’re hiking and it results in the both of you getting lost in the middle of the forest

Warnings: Fear of thunder

Prompt: “I have no idea where to go next” a challenge by @challengingwords

Masterlist

[15:04]

“I have no idea where to go next.” You turn around slowly to look at Jackson. He’s honestly scared to look away from the map in his hands because he knows that you’re going to start scolding him, but eventually, he has to. Jackson’s brown eyes slowly move from the map to look at you and he can see a vein bulging from your forehead. “Please, (Y/n), I’m sorry, I-I know you should’ve taken the map, please don’t kill me!” he squeaks when you grab the map out of his hands and stare at the printed piece of paper. There’s no way for you to actually tell where you are because you’re literally in the middle of the forest.

“Oh my god, why did Jaebeom give you the map,” you groan as you try to remember the way you came, but the forest is unfortunately not as forgiving as you hope it is because every direction you look at looks exactly the same as the last. “How are we supposed to get out! We left our phones at the camp!”

“I know! I’m sorry!” Jackson whines. He watches as you repetitively look from the map to your surroundings, trying your best to at least figure out where you are. It was Jackson’s idea to go camping with you and your best friends, and honestly, the two of you were doing fine in your paired hiking until Jackson thought it was a good idea to take hold of the map and lead the two of you off trail. Which leads you to your current situation; lost in the middle of the forest with barely any kind of knowledge as to where you are or just how far away from the camp you are.

“I think I know where to go,” you mutter, looking back down at the map. There’s a loud clap of thunder that makes both of your heads whip up to look at the gloomy sky and suddenly, you feel a single drop of water fall onto your face. You turn around slowly to Jackson once again and he’s never felt so scared in his life from just your gaze.

“I-I have a mini tent in my bag,” he smiles nervously.

“Set it up. Hopefully it doesn’t rain that bad,” you sigh, watching as Jackson starts pulling it out of his pack.

It’s raining.

Heavily.

You and Jackson are huddled in his freakishly small tent that barely fits two people but is enough to shelter you two from the rain. It’s cold and you have your windbreaker tightly wrapped around you as you shine your flashlight onto the map.

“We should be able to find base camp if we head North East,” you mutter, circling what your assumed location is and drawing an arrow towards the small red tent you had drawn before you and Jackson had left the camp.

“Can I see?” he questions softly. You look up from the map to see Jackson give you his best puppy eyes and you give in with a sigh, angling the map so that he’s able to look at it too. “That makes sense,” he nods. “I’m sorry we’re stuck in the forest now. Lost… and in the rain.”

“It’s okay, Jacks,” you give him a small smile as you pat his head gently. You always thought that Jackson’s decision to go strawberry blond resulted in one of his best looks, but as much as you want to tell him that, you know you’ll end up saying something else instead. “We’ll find our way back. Worse comes to worst, they’ll send Jinyoung out with his strange tracking skills.”

“I think he’d end up hunting us with a spear before actually bringing us back to camp,” Jackson quips, enticing a laugh out of you. His smile grows at the way you throw your head back when you laugh. He has so much he wants to tell you, but he fears that he’ll end up ruining the friendship you’ve built over the past four years. So, Jackson stays quiet when you laugh, only a small chuckle leaving past his lips at the way you smile.

“Jinyoung would kill you for making us lost. He loves me too much to do anything to me,” you hum as you fold the map and stick it into the pocket of your windbreaker.

“Jinyoung only has a soft spot for you because you’re not me,” he huffs as he sits upright. The temperature’s starting to drop even more the heavier the rain’s getting and it’s not helping that all you have are windbreakers. You can’t even start a fire because you’d just end up lighting the tent on fire and Jackson forgot to grab the heat lamp before you guys left the main camp. To be fair, you both thought that the heat lamp would just add weight to your backpacks since it was pretty hot and you were only supposed to be hiking for about two hours.

It’s been four hours.

Which makes you wonder whether or not your other friends had already started panicking or already had a feeling that you’d get lost.

“Do you think they’re looking for us?” you question, turning to Jackson.

“Hmm, I’m pretty sure Youngjae’s the only one that would be worried and maybe Mark’s girlfriend, but other than that…” he trails off as he thinks about it before shaking his head, “I’m pretty sure they know that we’d get lost.”

You raise an eyebrow, “why?”

“Jinyoung specifically told me not to take the map from you,” Jackson confesses with an awkward laugh. Your eyes narrowed into slits, an accusing look directed at him.

“Then why did you take the map?” Your arms cross over your chest when he lets out a long, awkward laugh.

“I wanted to prove a point.”

“Well, point proven,” you huff. There’s a loud clap of thunder that makes you jump and let out a squeal, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest. Jackson instinctively moves closer to hold onto you but he stops himself right before, arms reaching towards you.

“You didn’t tell me you were scared of thunder,” he points out, moving slightly closer to you so that at least you’re more aware that he’s there.

“It’s not something you just tell someone,” you mutter, looking around the tent. Jackson’s torn between holding onto you or just staying still. He wants to comfort you, but he also doesn’t want to make it awkward between you two. There’s another clap of thunder that almost makes you scream and Jackson works on instinct. His arms immediately wrap around you as he pulls you into him, one hand holding onto the back of your head and the other wrapped around your torso. Your hands are folded in between the two of you as you let your face lean into his chest.

You don’t even register the fact that you’re securely held against his chest until your heart rate slows down. You freeze when you realise the hold Jackson has you in. You feel like you should move away before it gets weird, but his grip on you makes you feel secure. You look up to see him looking down at you, brown eyes gentle.

“Are you okay?” Jackson asks softly. You nod slowly and he smiles. “We can stay like this if it makes you feel safe.”

“R-Really?” Your eyes widen when he nods. Your hands slowly move to wrap around his waist, feeling more comfortable that way. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” he hums, chin resting against the top of your head.

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flowerspecial · 4 years

Text

You Drunkenly Hooked Up With Them

Oh sweet Jesus, this is not the situation you want to find yourself in! JB and yourself were just friends, that is it! Well that's what you thought, but clearly this was about to change the whole dynamic. When you woke up and saw a bare chested JB sleeping next to you, your heart would race about a million beats per minute. How could you be so stupid?! But before you could even escape, JB was woken up by you moving around in the bed. “Oh good morning, can you remember what happened last night?” “Well I’m guessing by our attire we did more than just go out drinking…”

Mark

Mark has had the biggest crush on you for the longest time, but don't be fooled, this was not what he wanted! Mark wanted to confess to you with this beautiful and romantic gesture. He definitely didn't want to rush anything and potentially ruin your relationship by waking up next to you after a drunken hook up. Mark would actually be the first one to wake up, and he is kicking himself when he sees you. He feels so guilty and he really doesn't know what to do about the situation. The best thing Mark can think about doing is getting you some breakfast, that might be some sort of redemption.

Jackson

Jackson had so much fun last night, but he definitely didn't realise that he had THIS much fun! There is a point in Jackson’s memory of last night where his brain draws a blank. So clearly, this must have happened during Jackson’s blind spot of last night. The weird thing is you and Jackson have this sort of weird synchronicity and you guys woke up at the same time. “Good morning Jackson, do you remember anything from last night?” Jackson will look you up and down and smirk at you. “I have to admit, I can't remember this part. But looking at you like this right now, I wish I did!”

Jinyoung

Jinyoung must be hella drunk if he has got himself in this situation! There is something about Jinyoung that just tells me that he doesn't really tend to get himself this drunk. He is more of the parental figure in these sorts of situations. And honestly, the fact that he got himself in this situation just confirms to Jinyoung why he shouldn't get this drunk regularly. Jinyoung will feel more guilty than anything when he sees your sleeping figure in his bed. He can't help but feel like he's taken advantage of you. Jinyoung will definitely kinda just leave you in bed with a note, he doesn't know how to approach this one.

Youngjae

You and Youngjae liked each other since day one, everyone in the freaking planet could see this! Both of you decided that in order to get this relationship rolling, you needed a little bit of liquid courage, but you didn't think the liquid courage would take you this far. When you woke up next to Youngjae, you were admittedly very happy to be in the same bed as him. But you couldn't help but feel like you might have ruined everything by moving too fast. But it's like Youngjae knew what you were thinking, because he was quick to squash any negativity by wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in tighter.

Bambam

What the hell have you gotten yourself into? Better question, who the hell have you gotten yourself into?! You and your friends had gone out for drinks the previous night. You guys were stressed with work and life and you needed to just go out and have a good time. But now you are waking up next to a man you have never met before. Damn though, this boy has a hella nice house, who the hell is he?! While you are looking around, you'd feel the boy move around next to you, so you'd take it as your cue to leave. Fingers crossed you guys never meet again, but the universe is funny like that…

Yugyeom

Now, Yugyeom knew he was treading on thin ice when he started to like someone that he would see in the company everyday. You were new to the company, you weren't a trainee or anything, you worked in the admin side of the company. But Yugyeom was so drawn to you, that he asked you out for drinks after work one night. A couple (many) drinks later, you two find yourself in bed together. The next morning you'd both wake up and not really know where to go from here, because it's not like you can avoid each other. “Maybe we should go on an actual date? Let's try it the traditional way!”

#got7 #got7 imagines #got7 reactions #got7 scenarios #got7 blurbs #got7 imagine

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dustofinsanity · 4 years

Text

𝑆𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝟝

Jinyoung / ReaderㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤGang AUㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤWords count: 4k

Summary: Even if he was supposed to be nothing more than a friend with benefits, Jinyoung was your first and only one love. But he broke your heart and made you become the cold woman you are now. Seven years later, you meet him again.

Content/Warning: Angst, Strong language, Violence/Blood, Romance/Fluff

Previous part

As Jinyoung told you to do, you ran to his place, without giving attention to your tears, sore legs or the way people were staring at you. You just ran mindlessly and surprisingly, easily found Jinyoung's apartment. You've never been good at finding your way or navigating unknown areas but, this time, your brain was on your side and, after about thirty minutes of running like a crazy woman, you finally locked the door of Jinyoung's behind you.

Immediately, you fell on your knees and realised you weren't crying anymore, you didn't have any tears to shed for now and your eyes were dry and aching. And then, it hit you. This situation, you already knew it, you already had been on your knees in front of a door, eyes red and heart breaking in your chest.

Seven years before.

But, this time, things were different and, most importantly, Jinyoung told you he would be back, that he wouldn't leave. Deep inside, you knew he would do everything he could to keep that promise. There were too many unsaid things between the both of you, so many secrets you wanted to tell him, so many things you still wanted to do at his side. He had to come back.

You didn't know how long you stayed in front of the door but, when you finally got your mind together, you walked to the living room and found the phone with which you called Kangjoon. You told him what happened, letting him know you weren't hurt and were safe now. Like the best friend he was, he proposed to join you with Dohwan and Joohyuk but you said it was better if they stayed at Bad Company. As long as you didn't know if things were over or not, you didn't want to take the risk to let them come here in case people followed them.

Then, you found yourself alone in the apartment, looking all around you and thinking it suited Jinyoung's personality perfectly. It wasn't too decorated, just the strict minimum. Bookshelves were covering a whole wall of the living room, from floor to ceiling. You checked some of them and recognized the ones Jinyoung sometimes read at your former place. A sad smile passed over your lips and you kept wandering through the place, glancing at the door almost every ten seconds.

You knew you should stay in the living room and wait for Jinyoung's return but Jaebeom's words came back into your mind and your curiosity won over you. Slowly, you opened the only closed door, guessing it was Jinyoung's bedroom and glanced into the dark room, your eyes getting used to the obscurity, before cautiously entering. You knew you were alone here but you still tried to be the most discreet and silent as you could, like if you could get caught by someone.

City lights were softly lighting the room and you easily made your way around the bed on which you sat, heart racing and eyes not daring to look at the nightstand. But, once again, your curiosity was stronger than you and you finally looked at the small wooden furniture, your eyes getting wet instantly.

Guess you still had tears to shed.

Jaebeom didn't lie and honestly you didn't know if you would prefer he had or not. The photo was here, leaning against the bedside lamp foot. With a shaking hand you softly grabbed it and all the memories of this day played right in front of your crying eyes.

Exhausted, you put the photo back on the nightstand and laid on the bed, being immediately intoxicated by Jinyoung's scent. You felt bad for falling asleep when the one you loved was still outside but your whole body couldn't stay awake longer.

However, your sleep wasn't restful.

You didn't know how long you slept but, when the intercom rang, you didn't waste any second and rushed to the door, about to open it when Jinyoung's order came back into your mind. You then pressed the button on the intercom and saw Jaebeom, Mark and Bambam on the little screen.

Alive, they were alive!

You hurriedly unlocked the door and ran down the three floors to join the guys outside. They were covered by bruises, scratches and blood that you deeply hoped it wasn't theirs. But, something was wrong and, when you figured out what it was, your eyes went wide and tears started to escape. Softly, Jackson cupped your face and, a warm smile on his lips, made you look on your left side.

Here. He was here.

Before you could realize, you ran to Jinyoung and jumped on him, wrapping your arms around his neck. A hiss followed by an amused chuckle parted his lips while one of his arms encaged you in his strong embrace and his other hand landed on the back of your head.

"Did someone miss me?" he softly teased.

"Every single day of the last seven fucking years," you answered, your face sunk in the crook of his neck.

You heard the guys chuckling behind and when they started to leave, one of them, Youngjae if you weren't wrong, told his friend to take care of the rascal you were, making you grin slightly. Jinyoung nodded and kept you in his arms as long as you needed it.

But you remembered the guys' state and guessed your lover was surely the same. "Are you injured?" you quickly asked, pulling away and checking him.

"Nothing bad, don't worry," he smiled, grabbing both of your hands and kissing them. "Let's go inside, I need to take a shower."

"Right, you stink," you teased him, earning another of his delightful chuckles.

Making him open his eyes wide, you intertwined your fingers with his and went back to his place. Saying he wouldn't take too long, he told you to make yourself at home and left you in the living room after quickly kissing the side of your head.

Now Jinyoung was here, you felt like a little kid in a porcelain shop and didn't dare to touch anything. Now he was here, you felt embarrassed and scared. Scared because you knew the night was far from over and the both of you had to talk. At the same time, it was a relief even if it also felt like a threat. You kind of knew you had nothing to be afraid of, for the last few months, Jinyoung's acts clearly made you understand he wasn't the bastard you thought he was for the last seven years.

But still, you were afraid.

Sat on the couch, you heard the bathroom door open and saw Jinyoung walk to the kitchen, wearing nothing but just a pair of sweatpants. In any other situation, you would let your mind have all the damn thoughts it would want but not this time. This time, your eyes stopped on the scars on Jinyoung's back. When you met him, he already had few but the ones you could see now were bigger and you wondered how he got them.

"Do you want to eat something?" he asked, pulling you out of your thoughts and making you blink while he was looking through the kitchen cupboards. "I don't have a lot here but I can try to cook something if you're hun-"

He stopped, surprised by your arms wrapping around him.

A discreet smile curling his lips, he removed your arms and turned to you just to see your face down and your shoulders moving slightly. He knew you tried your best not to cry, after all these years, he still knew you like the back of his hand. Softly, he pulled you against him and kept you in his arms.

"I guess you have questions," he whispered against the side of your head, feeling you nod slowly.

Without any warning, Jinyoung grabbed your thighs and picked you up, letting you lock your legs around his waist, before walking to the couch and sat onto it, your body still against his.

"What do you want to know?"

"I... I don't know," you admitted without moving, breathing in his perfume and feeling his heartbeat against your chest. "I have many questions but... I don't know where to start."

"I'll do that for you," he smiled, tenderly stroking your head. "I grew up in an orphanage with Jaebeom. But we weren't the kind of peaceful kids." He stopped, seeing you straight up and frown at him. "What? Is it that hard to think I made a lot of bad choices when I was a kid?"

"You, no, but Jaebeom, yes."

"Hey!" he exclaimed, making you giggle adorably. "Anyway," he added, frowning back at you. "Jihoon hyung heard about the two energetic and unbearable kids we were and adopted us. He already did the same thing for Mark a few years before and, later, did it again for Jackson, Youngjae, Bambam and Yugyeom. He raised the seven of us like his real sons and always believed in us. Jihoon hyung knew our life was not the best but he does his best for us."

"From what I saw, he seems to be a cool guy," you whispered, your face back into the crook of his neck.

"He is and it seems that he really appreciates you," Jinyoung nodded, his hand on your back drawing smooth circles. "He also understood why I acted like that seven years ago. I told him you were really different back then but, I don't know, he just understood."

"He told me you disobeyed his orders," you said, feeling Jinyoung freeze and nod against your head. "Why... why did you do that?"

"Because I-" Jinyoung paused, searching for his words, and softly chuckled. "Because I needed you."

You straightened up again, putting your hands on his abs while your eyes were too shy to meet his. You wanted to know more, you wanted to hear Jinyoung say why he needed you, but your heart was racing, echoing in your temples, and your voice was stuck in your throat.

God, you hated being like that! It wasn't you! It wasn't Y/n! But was the Y/n you became really the one you truly were deep inside?

"Hey, where’s the bold Y/n I’ve known for the last few months?" Jinyoung smiled, trying to see your face through the falling strands of your hair, both his hands on your hips.

"This is exactly what I was asking myself," you sighed, looking at every scar and bruise on his torso. You shook your head, like if it could help you to chase your shyness away, and finally locked your eyes in Jinyoung's. "Why... Why did you need me?"

A smirk curling the corner of his lips, Jinyoung raised an eyebrow, liking every second of what was happening in front of him. For the last few months, he saw the bold and strong woman you became but, right now, you were the one he fell for seven years before.

"Isn't it obvious?" he asked, seeing your cheeks turning red. "God, I missed that so much," he kept going, his grin turning into a warm smile while his thumbs softly caressed the right side of your face.

"So... you were happy with me?" you asked, your fingers languidly running up and down his torso.

"You were the best thing in my life," he naturally confessed, making you widen your eyes. "I never hated my life, and still don't hate it. Even if I grew up surrounded by violence, I never missed anything and never felt alone thanks to Jihoon hyung and my brothers. But," he paused. "But I met you."

His voice was almost sad when Jinyoung said those last four words and you wondered if he ever regretted meeting you. But the way his eyes were sparkling when he evoked that fateful day quickly erased your doubts. Jinyoung never regretted meeting you but he would hate himself until his last day for the pain he made you feel.

"You say that like if it was a bad thing," you still pointed out, your eyes avoiding his again.

"Never think that way," he whispered, straightening onto the couch, his torso now against your chest. "Thanks to you, I knew things, no, I felt things I thought I would never know, things I thought I wasn't deserving of. And... And I would give my whole life to feel them again."

"I'm afraid, Jinyoung," you breathed, trying your best to keep your tears behind your eyes. "What if you leave me again?"

"I'd rather die than leave you again, Y/n."

Swallowing, you looked back at him just to see him move his face closer and softly peck your lips.

Heart hammering in your chest, you said nothing nor moved and just stared at Jinyoung with lost eyes. But he saw. He saw the hidden feeling behind your insecurity and, softly, slid his fingers to your neck, pulling you closer and locking his lips on yours once again.

The kiss was slow, tender, almost shy, and both your minds seemed afraid about what was happening when every cell of your beings was craving for each other. But, as soon as your fingers ran up his torso and stopped their course into his hair, harshly grabbing it to pull him even closer, Jinyoung understood you wanted, needed, to feel what you felt so many nights seven years before.

He didn't lose any second and stood up from the couch, holding you in his strong embrace with one arm and carrying you like if you were as light as a feather. At this moment, the kiss wasn't tender anymore, both of you wanting to show how much you missed each other's lips, touch, body. And you both expressed that by mixing many feelings all together into one ardent kiss.

Love, desire, need, missing but also anger, grudge and violence.

A loud groan escaped from your throat when Jinyoung pinned you against a wall and you wasted no time in paying him back, biting his lower lip as you pulled on his hair.

"Sorry," he whispered, not sure if he really meant it.

"Don't," you replied, crashing back your mouth on his.

You felt his lips curling into a smile and tightened the grip of your legs around his waist as he carried you into his room, his desire getting bigger underneath his sweatpants.

As if you were the most precious thing on Earth, and for him, you were, Jinyoung laid you onto his bed and settled himself between your legs, leaving your lips for your jaw line then your neck, sliding his hands under your tee. Quickly, he took off your clothes and froze, his eyes landing on your black laced bra. It was way different from what you wore in the past but it didn't make a difference to Jinyoung; you were still as beautiful as ever.

It didn't take long for him to reconnect his lips on your skin, kissing, licking, nibbling and biting every inch of your upper body while your fingers were tangled through his hair and moans escaped your mouth. Before you could even realize, one of his hands slid to your back and easily unclasped your bra with two fingers. Not even a second after, Jinyoung was throwing your lingerie through the room, his mouth already sucking on your right breast while his other hand grabbed the left one.

It felt like Heaven. No, it felt even better than Heaven.

Seven years before, everytime Jinyoung made you his, you felt like the luckiest girl on Earth, every one of his gestures reminding you how beautiful you were. But now, you both weren't students anymore, and Jinyoung wasn't only showing you how badly he wanted you but how madly he loved and needed you, his scratches and bites followed by licks and kisses.

"Ji-Jinyoung..." you whined, arching your back when his lips grazed your hips, some tears escaping from your eyes. "Please, Jinyoung."

You didn't need to say more, he knew exactly what this "please" meant, it didn't change, it was the same you already said so many times before. His hands then left your breasts and slowly, brushing over your skin, went down to your stomach, stopping at the hem of your denim shorts. His fingers sliding between your belly and fabric, Jinyoung unbuttoned your clothes and, once you unwrapped your legs from his waist, slid your shorts along your legs, grabbing your black laced panties with them.

"Are you even real?" he whispered, one of his hands going up to your wet core while he took off his sweatpants with the other, letting you see his glorious erection.

"Please," you repeated in the same tone, your whole body already trembling with excitement.

Slowly, Jinyoung looked up at you, the hint of a smirk on his lips, and slightly nodded. He dreamed of this moment for the last seven years, the moment when both of you could be finally together again. Even if his mouth still wanted to taste your body for hours, just to remember how delicious you were, Jinyoung couldn't deny the craving to be inside you was way stronger.

A hand on the pillow to gain some balance, Jinyoung settled himself in front of your entrance and softly, lovingly even, slid inside you, loud sighs parting both your mouths. Once the sensation you secretly longed to feel again for the last seven years calmed down a bit, you adjusted yourself and wrapped back your legs around his waist.

"Nothing’s changed, love," Jinyoung whispered in your ear once his body was over yours and his free hand grabbed your thigh. "If something's wrong, just tell me."

You slightly chuckled. He was right, nothing changed. Jinyoung still wanted to take care of you, to protect you, to make you feel safe, loved and pleased even in this kind of moment, even if he wanted to make you scream his name for hours.

"Don't worry, everything will be alright," you replied, grabbing his head and locking your eyes in his. "I trust you, Park Jinyoung."

"I love you," he told you for the first time since he met you.

"I love you too," you smiled, pulling on his head to bring his lips where they had to be, on yours.

A tear escaping from his eye and dropping on your cheek, Jinyoung smiled against your mouth and finally gave you what you wanted, slowly starting to thrust into you, his groans melting with your moans in a perfect melody.

He kept a slow pace at first, trying to keep control over his feelings and desires, tightening the grip on your thigh everytime you clenched your walls around his member. But, quickly, his hunger took over him and he harshly pounded into you once, making you widen your eyes and yelp at the sudden change and sensation.

"Sorry, I-" Jinyoung murmured, sinking his face into the crook of your neck.

"Did you miss me?" you cut him off, sliding your hands on his back and drawing smooth circles.

"More than you can ever imagine, love," he nodded, kissing the spot where your neck met your shoulder.

"Then show me. Show me how much you missed me."

Like it was an order he dreamed to obey for far too long, Jinyoung thrusted into you once again, and again, and again, more violently and deeper every time, groaning with the skin of your neck between his teeth when you dug your nails into his back and scratched it.

Even if nothing but grunts left his mouth, you could guess Jinyoung tried his best to hold back himself, scared to death of hurting you. So, between every moan, you tried to reassure him, to articulate some words, struggling to say everything was okay, he could let him go, he would never hurt you. You just wanted Jinyoung to understand you trusted him and got the answer you wanted when, moving his hand from your thigh, he slid his arms under your back and grabbed your shoulders, pouding another time into your wet area, even deeper and angrier.

All the insanities both of you were holding back in your throats finally left your mouths and, quickly, the room was filled by sounds of your skin clapping against each other and desperate cursing that neither of you said in a bed.

Jinyoung wasn't the young guy you knew anymore; he was the man who was making you his forever. You weren't the cute student he fell for anymore; you were the woman who wanted to spend the rest of the eternity by his side. You weren't two lovers anymore; you were two souls melting together to become one, every thrust, kiss, scratch and caress sealing your fate.

"Ji-Jinyoung, I'm- I'm gonna," you stuttered, feeling an umpteenth wave of delightful electric shocks washing all over your body.

"I- I missed you so- so much, lo- love," he replied as hard as you, feeling his high coming.

"Tell me you- Ahh! Tell me you won't- you won't leave."

"I... will... never... leave... you... again. Never," he promised, smacking his hips against yours between each of his words.

Another wave, the strongest you've ever felt, overwhelmed you and you immediately reached your climax, eyes rolling back and cries breaking from your lips. Jinyoung followed right away, digging his shaft a few other times and filling you up with his seed.

Seconds later, everything went back to calm in the room, silence being broken by your loud breaths only.

Covered in sweat, Jinyoung carefully pulled away, asking if you were okay when you slightly hissed, and laid down on his back, an arm already sliding under your shoulders and pulling your naked body against him, his free hand removing a few strands from your face. You softly kissed the bare skin of his chest and put your head on it, your hand resting on his abs and following the scars you could feel under your fingertips.

Never in the last seven years had you imagined that you would find yourself back in Jinyoung's arms, smelling his scent, feeling his skin against yours and, even if you hated the idea, you ended up accepting it. But here you were, lying in his bed, wrapped in his strong and comforting embrace, his fingers brushing tenderly your arm.

"I'm sorry," you sighed, slowly looking up at him just to see him frown slightly. "For what I said at Bad Company the night we opened."

"You had every right to say that," he sadly smiled, pulling you closer and kissing your forehead. "Don't worry about it, love."

"Still, I'm sorry," you insisted, lowering your head and running your fingertips along his chest. "I didn't know wh-"

"You're right," he cut you off, grabbing your chin and making you look back up at him. "You didn't know. I broke your heart, Y/n, you suffered because of me, you had every right to hate me. And trust me, I told myself things that were way worse than what you said. But you're here now and we can pick up where we stopped."

At his words, a smirk slowly stretched the corner of your lips, making Jinyoung raise an eyebrow.

"Talking about picking up where we stopped," you purred, climbing on him and digging your nails in the skin of his chest. "What about doing it right now?"

You didn't know if it was the proposition, the sound of your voice, the way you scratched his skin, or everything all together, probably the last option, but Jinyoung's reaction didn't take long and lust filled his dark eyes. Promptly, he straightened up and pulled your body as close as it could be against his.

"Show me how much you missed me, love," Jinyoung smirked, crashing his lips back on yours.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ⁓•⁓ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ Thank you for reading! 💜 ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ⁓•⁓

#got7 #got7creators #park jinyoung #got7 jinyoung #got7 scenarios #got7 imagines #park jinyoung scenarios #park jinyoung imagines #got7 jinyoung scenarios #got7 jinyoung imagines #feedback is always appreciated

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jjpmoans · 4 years

Text

Empty Space | kyg

w.c : 9k+ words

warnings : angsts. lots and lots of angsts. cheating. slow build up.

a/n : Happy 1k followers to me! I’d like to thank everyone for following me, staying for my content and my writings. I need to improve more and I am sorry that I’ve not been active. I am still overwhelmed by the 1k followers and it is now at 1.2k followers (OMG 1.2K WHAT DO YOU GUYS FOLLOW ME FOR). Also since I wasn’t active, I figured a drabble game will have less participation from my audience so I decided to personally dm the 1000th follower and asked them what kind of fic and who does they want to be the main lead. Sooooooo, my 1000th follower @luvgyeom requested for a Yugyeom angst, then Yugyeom angst it is! It is quite long (this is my first time writing this long lmao). Please enjoy all the heartbreak. Thankyou for following me again! xoxo

Heavy steps resonate through the sidewalk, together with everyone else. Everyone is either walking home from work, probably catching up with friends or going for a movie. What they are going to do is absolutely not something Yugyeom actually cares about. However, with the things running through his head now, he’d rather wonder about a stranger’s plan rather than sort things out.

It has been sunny for a while now. The heat is bearable; at least to Yugyeom. Or probably he has lost the ability to feel because he doesn’t think he can function really well right now. He is getting nearer to the familiar street and for the n-th time of the week, he sucks in a breath to gain some strength.

He passes the first grocery and the roasted chestnut smell from the stall hits him immediately, staggering his step. It rings in his head how you would beg him to stop for some chestnut when he was struggling to hold your groceries. Even if he wanted to say no, the pout on your face will melt him completely. He’d give in, watching you skip steps joyfully towards the stall. Living close to the area has made you a regular, the old grandma will give you extra chestnuts because she thought you’re pretty.

Yugyeom thinks you are, too.

“Oh! You’re here!” like on cue, the said old woman calls him, motioning him to come closer. “I thought you had moved away! You stopped coming for weeks now!”. She quickly gathers some freshly roasted chestnuts because that’s how you like your chestnuts. Fresh.

There are reasons why Yugyeom wanted to say no whenever you stopped for chestnuts. Because he doesn’t eat them. He can’t stand the taste. Until you came. You came and suddenly roasted chestnuts became his favourite. No, actually, you’re his favourite.

He loves you. You love chestnuts. He loves chestnuts.

Yugyeom sighs, now he is adding the smell of chestnut to his ‘dislike’ list. Roasted chestnut now makes him dizzy, clouded by the memory of you. He doesn’t even want to meet someone that reminds him of you, which is why he has avoided the route several times.

However, humans have weaknesses and at times Yugyeom feels like malfunctioning without enough dosage of you. Is this what addiction tastes like? It was pure torture, haunted by countless memories which tastes bitter in his mouth but sweet in his mind. It’s like a combination of life, where Yugyeom thought you’re the one he’d spend his life with forever but it turns out you weren’t meant to be his. He was angry at you, he was trying to deny the fact that you too, have weaknesses. But at times like this, he misses you and he just wants you in his arms.

“Yugyeom?” the old grandma calls. He snaps out of his own thoughts, pulling out his wallet to pay. The grandma holds his hand instead, warmness spreads through the touch. She smiles, shaking her head. “Bring this to her. Fights are common, sweetheart. That’s how love works. But you fight for it, you don’t run away. That’s how you save your relationship.”

If it is that simple, he would have ran to your arms long ago. Where it was just a few days; probably a few hours. But it has been far too late, he has broken countless rules made when he dated you. Nonetheless, on days where he found himself in a stranger’s arms, he knew he won’t find the same love that you’ve provided him with.

Because you’re perfect.

You’re perfect and he took you for granted. He knew you were loyal so he went around flirting, cheating behind you. He knew you love him; you will never leave him. He knew sooner or later you’ll find out about him but he didn’t care less. He knew you love him too much to break up with him.

But he never knew what strength can do to a woman.

“Don’t you think it’s time to stop pretending?” your voice was low, Yugyeom didn’t think he had ever heard your tone as cold as that. But he played dumb, asking you what’s wrong. “Why do you think I won’t find you sleeping around behind my back?”

Yugyeom met you when he was still someone who sleeps around. He was in a group of friends who don’t do relationships and only commit one when they’re ready to hold responsibilities. He had warned you before that he is, and will be someone who cheats because he simply can’t leave his old habit. But you stayed nonetheless, trying to get him out of his lifestyle.

And it worked. It worked out and it freaked Yugyeom out when he felt that he started changing for you. He never lingered too long whenever he was out with his friend because he was ready to go home to you. He never realised that until Jinyoung pointed it out. He never drank too much after meeting you, even though his alcohol tolerance is high because he knew you don’t like him reek of alcohol when he came home.

He learnt about you and had your personal preference memorized at the back of his hand. He knew all your likes and dislikes that it scared him when he felt the change. It threw him off the momentum and like a gear, he reversed his life to where before he met you. He never thought he’d fall in love with you and he never thought he’d change for you.

He was mad and he was scared.

The day he gave up messing around was the day you broke up with him. Yugyeom decided that the lifestyle doesn’t suit him anymore; that he loves you too much to sleep with other people. He can’t see other women without thinking about you but as life always works, you sniff things out way before he can explain.

When Yugyeom walked out of the shared apartment, he told himself he won’t regret leaving. He knew he wasn’t worth your love, your loyalty and your dedication. He knew, you can end up with someone better, someone who cherishes your love, someone who isn’t him.

“Are you good?” Youngjae nudges him with a can of beer, Yugyeom smiles in return. Never would he have thought that he would hate drinking. He refuses every drink that came his way and everyone started freaking out when they found out that you broke up with him.

“Are you fucking crazy?” Bam, was the first to curse, fist almost meeting his face. Bam, his own best friend. He was utterly disgusted, refusing to listen to Yugyeom’s explanation. “It’s good she left you. You’re fucking ungrateful, cheating on someone as angelic and as patient as her. I am embarrassed to call you my own friend.”

“Yeah, I’m good.” he replies, eyes lingering on his group of friends talking to each other, being ignorant to how the world revolves. Jinyoung told him that love works in a different way and now he wants to scoff, the elder must be proud if he knows that Yugyeom indeed, acknowledge his words now. “Just feeling empty.”

Yugyeom knows, you’re the only person that fits well in his heart. He knows that you’re the missing piece, the one that is supposed to solve the puzzle. He knows it but he can’t tell them, his friends. They won’t understand and Yugyeom doesn’t have the energy to fight again, hearing things he will just get blamed.

Nights are the most difficult of all for Yugyeom. Climbing on his bed is another story, he loathes himself whenever he starts thinking when you were once in his arms. He would snuggle you to sleep, your head on his chest while you hugged him.

Never had he thought break ups would be this torturous. Never had he thought he would be this affected; going through this phase is absolutely the worst. Never had he, Kim Yugyeom, felt this weak for a woman.

Staring at the ceiling of his bedroom, Yugyeom finds himself drawing the digit 8 with his eyes when his phone buzzes on the side table, bringing him to reality. Three in the morning, probably Jaebeom is texting him to pick them all up since he is the only sober one. So he picks the phone up, opening them to read the texts.

‘Hey.. I miss you. Can we talk?’ had Yugyeom in a panic attack, right after that an incoming call buzzes, ringing for five seconds before he picks it up.

Silence is probably the worst torture Yugyeom could feel now. It is devastating, knowing you’re on the other side, probably crying because of his stupid ass.

“Yugyeom..” your voice falters, awakens the guilt in him. “Oh god I’m so sorry. I can’t- I miss you. I’m sorry.”

Yugyeom smiles, hushing you to calm down.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.” Yugyeom replies. “I miss you too.”

“I know I don’t have that kind of right to tell you that.”

“But I really really miss you.”

Yugyeom knows, this will probably be the last conversation before you fully move on, leaving him behind. But he also hopes, you will at least, feel his love before totally erasing him out of your life.

Because for once, he needs you to know that only you can fill these empty spaces.

In Yugyeom’s life, he has never felt as empty as he is now. Mainly he was happy, ‘was’ is the keyword because right now, he feels nothing. Your departure brought along his entire emotion since you’re the person who’s in charge of it. You are the person whom he has dedicated all his life for. You’re the reason why he breathes everyday, looking forward to the rest of his day. Waking up to you is one of the views that sparks the light in his heart.

Cheating on you was his fault.

It was and will forever be his fault. Your departure serves as a reminder to him that he is not worthy of your love and will never be worthy of it. When you were right there by his side, he frequently hesitated to show his love towards you. People say it’s because he’s still young but he knows, he was just too egoistic to show his emotion. He never showed you off in public because he was too proud to have someone loyal by his side. He knew you were grateful enough for his affection, those where he showed them to you behind the closed doors.

However he knows, you deserve more than just being a trophy girlfriend. You are brilliant, excellent and everything he should have been bragging about. But he didn’t do it. He didn’t brag about you and he has lost that chance entirely.

From the moment he saw you smiling with your friend in a dimly lit club, his heart clenched and that’s when he realised, he has lost you.

The night where both of you were vulnerable, Yugyeom still remembers every bit of it. You were crying, sobbing in pain as you vent your frustration on him. He could make out the figure of you clutching your chest, tears streaming down your pink cheeks, dropping down to your wet pillow. The image alone hurts him to the core.

“I’m so sorry.” he says into the receiver. Your heart drops at his apology. A part of you wants him to not apologise, that it makes you more vulnerable and will probably run into his arms again. “I’m sorry for cheating behind you. I have no explanation and I deserve you breaking up with me.”

You want to stop him from talking but all you can do is cry, writhing in silent pain. You know Yugyeom loves you. Or so you thought. Years of your relationship has tricked you into a specific mantra that you have been hypnotised with, the assurance that he loves you. Till that day you keep wanting to believe that you are his everything, the only girl he let into his life and hopefully the last.

Leaving Yugyeom was…painful. It has ripped off your lung, knowing the fact the man you’ve been blindly in love with, was sleeping around behind you. Epiphany hit and the excruciating pain left you speechless. The mantra that kept you together broke, shattering with your future that you have pictured with him. The trust was no longer there, you refused to trust him anymore. For what, really? To make you even more miserable? Knowing that you trusted him too much for him to play your heart like some insignificant thing in his life?

So you leave. You love him and you wanted to hear some explanation of how he messed things up. But you needed to leave. You don’t want him to take your love for granted. You wanted to give him a chance but right now, your heart is in pain. You can’t share your man, you just can’t. You can’t accept him for cheating because never in your life, you would accept a cheater.

Love has made you blind and you want to avoid becoming one.

“Maybe it’s not now,” he said. “I’ll court you again in the future. I’ll gain your trust and I’ll make sure I earned it right.”

“I’ll make myself deserve your love.”

Two years and Yugyeom feels like his life is catching up again. He moved on from the break-up almost a year later, where he figured that life is teaching him how to appreciate people. He changed from a young boy to a mature man, finding a permanent job and wearing proper attire. Funny how he almost sees Jinyoung in him. His friends think the same, he starts to look more proper, more presentable. He is no longer the Yugyeom from two years ago. He left everything in the past to be himself now. He wanted a change, a solid reason to become your man again.

Fate, of course, works differently on both of you. While Yugyeom soars up high, you have become more miserable than you can be. Days and nights are a blur to you, save for those times when you’re at work. Two years made you a zombie, clouded by all ‘what ifs’ and ‘whys’. What if you hadn’t left? What if you stayed? What if you give him a chance?

You questioned your every move, of why you never asked him the reason he cheated and of why you chose to run away instead of facing the problem head on.

There is only one reason why.

It’s painful to swallow but you still love him.

A combination of blind and fools, that is what you are. You know this is the hardest pill to swallow, the hardest confession you have yet to make to your friends. Whenever they asked you if you’re interested to start dating again, you pushed them away by saying you’re busy with work. You have seen their side eyes and snickers, you know they knew about the truth.

Kim Yugyeom will always and forever be the only man you’ll set your eyes on.

The first time in two years, your eyes found his. Amidst the crowd, you found him, ash grey and heavy lids. You knew it from the first glance, the way your eyes immediately attracted to that shape of his.You always love those eyes, cheeky and full of enthusiasm.

However that day, you found confident eyes, a little bit tired but still a strong gaze. You know he met yours too because the next second you find his eyes dilated, diverting the contact. A sharp tug in your heart brought you to reality, shaking you from your mindless dream.

Why?

Doesn’t he miss you? Doesn’t he suffer the same way as you did? Has he moved on? Has he?

You’re enraged by the thought, a string of curses left your mouth while you walk home in tears. However as you hit the shower, you felt yourself relaxing under the warm rain. Then you realise that you’re relieved to see him. You’re relieved to know he’s alive and healthy without you. It’s a lie if you didn’t feel hurt. A part of you wanted to see him miserable as you are but at the same time you were thankful that he managed to live without you. Between the two of you, you’re the mature one while Yugyeom couldn’t even cook instant noodles with the stove. He is more to hot water instant noodles. So when you find him breathing and alive, you have a tiny jealousy in your heart knowing he is better off without you. You guess this is better, parting ways and not existing in each other’s life.

Unknowingly, you find yourself walking through the same route every other day of the week, looking forward to chances that you could probably meet him, even just a quick glance. On your third day, you realise that this is the old route you used to go shopping with him, the one where you always buy your roasted chestnut.

You went home crying, sobbing into the pillow as it swallowed your tears away.

The next day, you still walk on the same route, stronger than before.

Days become weeks.

Weeks become months.

You never stop, holding to that thin rope of hope to meet him again. Each day you walk through the same route at the same time you met him months ago, wishing that he will be there, probably just standing there and quirk a smile.

Just knowing that he acknowledges you is already fine. You just need that.

Yugyeom knows you’re there.

He knows it.

He met your chestnut, tired eyes. You looked like – dare he say – miserable. His stomach churned at the possibilities that you may probably haven’t moved on from him, still trapped in the same heartbreak he caused you two years ago. He saw you first, when you were dragging your feet against the bricked floor not giving any attention to your front. It felt like his eyes were glued to you, your beauty kept him stunned; no really, he just missed you. He felt his heart did a little flip when you swatted your hair away from your face, a gesture whenever you were irritated but still keeping that long hair because Yugyeom loves it. He kept watching you walk until you spotted your favourite roasted chestnut stall, the same old stall. Then your eyes suddenly caught his, making him flustered, flying away from your figure.

For the last two years, Yugyeom kept finding himself in a position where he wanted to have you all to himself, selfishly thinking to end his own suffering. He even went to the extent of calculating a plan to win you over, to kneel and to beg for you.

“You think she’ll take you back?” Yugyeom hated it when Jinyoung questioned his every move. He hated that Jinyoung always sounded right, always taking on your side instead of his. “Why do you think she left you in the first place?”

“Stop trying to bring me down.” he hated when Jinyoung was right.

“You don’t understand!” Jinyoung’s voice thundered, breaking through the silent apartment. “You don’t fucking understand why!”

Jinyoung has no reason to be mad to start with. However Yugyeom’s attempts at winning you over again made him seethed in anger, trying to set the poor boy straight.

“You don’t understand that she didn’t leave because she hated you. She was hurt. You fucking hurt her. You cheated on her and yet you wanted her to accept you back?” Yugyeom ran his eyes from Jinyoung’s, only to land on Bambam’s. That man was no longer his friend the day he revealed how you left him.

“Let’s put it this way, Gyeom-ah.” Apparently Youngjae is the calmer one hence he was with the right mind to put some good words inside Yugyeom’s brain. The other two were still angry, refusing to talk without a string of curse words. “You love one girl. You are crazy about her, you are willing to sacrifice everything for her.”

“I do love her-”

“Then one day, you came home to know that she’s been cheating behind your back. She had another man behind you, god knows how many men she has been sleeping with.”

“I didn’t sleep with them-”

Jinyoung beat him to it, punctuating each word. “Does she know?”

“Doesn’t it hurt you when the one that holds your trusts, betrays you?” Youngjae sat in front of him, patting his shoulder. “Doesn’t it hurt you?”

From that day he vowed to be better, to stop playing around and to start all over again.

“How could I make her love me again, hyung?” was one of frequent questions that he’s thrown to his friends. “How could I make her fall for me all over again?”

Mark was definitely the most sane of all, scooting closer to calm the broken boy. “Be a man, Yugyeom. Fix yourself. Fix the old you. Man up and explain yourself. Don’t hope for her to accept you back. Explain yourself and let the time decide.”

That was the reason he changed. He has long given up trying to make you fall into his arms again, however he wanted you to know what happened. You deserve an explanation. You deserve to know what happened and what should have happened. Each day the guilt weighed him to no end. At times he felt suffocated, being chased by the old memories, fragments of that day haunted him over and over again.

Yugyeom had never wanted to hug someone so much after he made eye contact with you that day.

He went home to Bambam, crying over the sadness bottling up his lungs. His fear came to reality, seeing you completely lost in the sea of people. He has totally broken you into pieces and he shall be the one putting you up again.

“Why are you avoiding her?” Jaebeom asks, watching Yugyeom lost in his own thought, his eyes staring into space. “What harm would you bring if you meet her?”

It has been known to his group of friends that Yugyeom met you again at the crosswalk and you are waiting for him every day. You hadn’t realised but his friends were there too, each day when you peered to see his shadow at the same spot like last time. His friends saw you whipped your head left and right, then when you can’t see him, your shoulder would slump and you would walk home like how you usually do.

Sad, broken, helpless.

“Go fix her, Gyeom-ah.” Jackson advises. “Things are getting worse for her. You need to be responsible for this. Don’t run from the problem. Face it. You’re a man.”

Yugyeom looks away from the mindless stare, focusing his vision on his hyungs. “What if I fuck up again? What if I made her fall for me and I fuck up again?”

“I never told you to make her fall again.” Jaebeom bent closer, patting the younger man on his head. “Fix her. Then let her decide. Don’t take advantage of her. Fix her. She’s broken. Help her realise that her life isn’t worth being pathetic for you.”

“Ouch.” Jaebeom smiles, rubbing circles on Yugyeom’s shoulder. “I’m proud of how far you have come. You have us but she has no one, Gyeom-ah. Help her fix herself as strong as you are. Then let her decide if you are worth accepting again.”

“Can I have it like usual?” the old grandma smiles, her hand is busy packing you a bag of roasted chestnut and honey coated chestnut. Your inside jumps at the delicious smell of your food, giddy to go home and devour them. Months ago you passed the route for Yugyeom. Today you passed the route for your old chestnut stall.

Securing the package, the old grandma proceeds to hand you the food with the change. While you busy yourself keeping the change, she clears her throat. “You look happy today.”

The statement makes you exclaim a small oh! before giving her a curious look.

Instead of replying, she laughs and starts cleaning her station. “It has been quite long since you stopped buying my chestnuts.”

“I guess the young man and you have parted ways?” she asks.

The question punches your gut, causing your bottle of emotion to shake and start making a mess inside you. It has been known to your circle about your break-up but to a stranger like the old grandma? Of course this hits you hard, knowing that a stranger managed to sniff your relationship like that.

She looks up when you don’t respond, offering a sweet apologetic smile. “I’m sorry if I offended you sweetheart. I saw you happy today, so I thought you’d move on from the young man.”

You didn’t actually blame her, she used to be fond of Yugyeom. Every time you stopped to buy, she would squeal at how nice and handsome Yugyeom is, much to Yugyeom’s liking. You guess that is a common thing to ask, since it has been two years and now you came alone.

“I guess we are not meant together, grandma.” you force a reply out of you, knowing that it probably hurt the old woman if you stayed silent. “We parted ways long ago.”

She hums, watching you dearly. “Do you love him, sweetheart?”

A mere question bursts a thousand emotions, that’s how your tears broke. You nod furiously, unable to contain the sadness anymore. You feel like a useless fool, you have no idea how Yugyeom has so much control in your life that once he’s out of your sight you’ve become this fragile.

She pulls you into her arms, giving you a comforting, motherly-hug. You don’t know if it helps because you feel so small in her arms and you cry your heart out, tired of bottling everything in. You wanted someone to talk to, but your friends won’t understand. They will continue to call you a weak person, someone who still loves a cheater like Yugyeom. You wanted to tell them that you are indeed a fool but you need them to stand back up again.

“Stop crying sweetheart.” she says softly. “I can see you love him so much. Why don’t you fight for your relationship?”

To that you cry even harder, countless ‘what ifs’ hits you again full force. Are you the one to be blamed in this situation? Are you the one who stopped fighting for your relationship? Why would you hold him back if he went around cheating while having you by his side? You are a human too, you can’t share what is yours.

“I don’t know the problem between you two, sweetheart. But what holds you from moving on is because you still have regrets.” she strokes your hair, calming you down. “Talk to him. Vent out your frustration. Let him know that you are not okay with this.”

She wipes away your tears-stained face, giving you an encouraging smile. “Then you can be at ease. You will feel better. You will, sweetheart.”

Words can’t describe how nervous you are, sitting in front of Yugyeom after two years. He looks equally nervous, a different kind of nervous. He looks like he’s afraid that you might break down - which you probably would - and he doesn’t know what to do. So after gulping your saliva for the nth time, you clear your throat, attempting to sort everything out.

If you guys are going to stay silent like this then this meeting won’t ease your mind.

“I’m sorry.” left you gaping, heart drumming at an intense rate. You watch Yugyeom’s Adam Apple bobs, arranging his words. “I am sorry for everything I did to you.”

You can’t say no, because indeed, he was the one to blame. “It wasn’t my intention.” he darts his panic eyes to you, licking his lips to continue, “to cheat. It was never an intention to cheat.”

You inwardly scoff, unbelievably irritated by his explanation. It wasn’t intentional? So like- what, he lost control of himself and suddenly made out with some random woman? It makes no sense and because it doesn’t; your irritation becomes more visible.

“What? You mean ‘oh I lost control of my limbs and suddenly a woman was riding me’? Disgusting.” you spat out words without thinking, your heart aches more than you can ever give him your empathy. You are disgusted with him.

As bad as your words come out, he stays collected; even more surprising to you. He shakes his head, leaning closer to the table that separates both of you. “No, I don’t mean it that way.”

“I never intended to cheat. Not because I got bored of you nor because I feel like cheating. I didn’t-” he doesn’t miss how your eyes narrow at his explanation, still feeling disgusted as he refused to come clean. “I didn’t sleep with anyone.”

‘Unbelievable-”

“Think what you want to, but I never slept with anyone when and after we dated. I admit I went clubbing and made out with some women,” he grimaces as he remembers the vague image in his head, “But I never bed them.”

“Never bed them?”

“I can’t. You are everywhere and I felt like I was committing a huge sin.”

“Technically, you were.” you can’t help but blurt it out.

“Yes. The worst sin I had ever committed.”

You feel your throat dries, knowing this is the time for you to ask him. This is the time for you to find out the truth. This is where your future lies. His answer will determine how your misery ends. This is where your curiosity will be answered and you feel yourself chickening out from this conversation. What if he breaks your heart again, reminding you how dumb you were, breaking things between you two without listening to him first?

However there is no way you’re running out of this restaurant. You’re here and you need to admit that no matter how dumb you were, you and him were over. A broken glass can’t be put back again so you decide to screw it. Timidly, you hang your head low and manage to let out a small but clear word. “Then..why?”

In return you heard Yugyeom scoffing, laughing to himself and stopped. That’s it. He’s about to make fun of you, saying how you are so clouded with your own conclusion and emotion, how you are always the one that overthinks, that you’re the reason why you break up.

Amidst your inner banter, you tip your head curiously and instantaneously your heart stops at how his face changes. You can see right through him, his pain and his misery. His face holds so much regret that you can almost feel the pain in his heart.

You can see the real Yugyeom, broken and in pain.

“I was stupid, y/n.” he says.

“I was stupid, I was scared. God I was so so stupid.” he repeats again, one after another. “I was scared because I started changing into someone I don’t know.”

“I dated you for just one year and I changed from a free boy to a committed boy. I was committed to our relationship and it scared me how I changed in a split second because of you.” he pauses to inhale a suffocating breath, painfully stabbing him through his lungs. “I was pathetic. I was so scared seeing how dependent I’ve been to you and I feel like you could control me with just a snap of your finger.”

You fall into silence, shaken by his confession.

However, silence was never Yugyeom’s favourite; yours top everything. He was scared to explain because he knows it will look unreasonable and pathetic in your eyes. He knows it is, judging by how ridiculous you’re looking at him now.

“So..you slept around because you were scared of changing?” the tone of your voice changes, exactly as cold as Yugyeom could remember, just the exact tone from the day things fall apart between you.

His head drops again, voice coming out with hesitation. “It sounds ridiculous, yes it does. But you don’t understand how scared I was. I was becoming someone under your control. It was weird because I usually have everything under my control. I wasn’t used to being under someone’s spell and it blinded me to the point where I don’t feel as happy as I was when hanging out with my friend just because you weren’t there.”

“Then I thought that’s probably because I hang out with you too much. I’ve become dependent on you, I thought that was totally ridiculous when Bambam told me that’s because I’m in love with you.”

His shoulder jolts when he lets out a forced laugh. “Me? Capable of loving? Love wasn’t in my dictionary back then, y/n. I was messing around and it threw me off guard when Bam mentioned that. Love? What kind of love would I be able to give you? I was a boy, I have nothing but a simple life. I wasn’t ready for commitment but you made me fall deeper for you.”

“So I messed up. Like how Kim Yugyeom would, I messed up.” for the first time since he spoke, he looked you straight in the eyes. “It took me two weeks to realise that ‘shit, I’m in love with y/n’ and another one week to get my shit together, thinking of how I should break it to you.”

You’ve been listening attentively to his explanation, the gears in your head moved rapidly, overlapping one issue with another.

‘So for one year he didn’t love me?’

‘But he did. Just he didn’t realise.’

‘But he needed three weeks to realise when he’s been with me for one year?’

‘He was confused, y/n.’

“What,” you inhale, composing yourself. “happened the day we broke up?”

You found out about him a few days before you broke up. One of your acquaintances kept hinting to you about your relationship. When she got unbearable that you can’t hold it anymore, you confronted her for the issue. To say that you were surprised, you weren’t entirely surprised. You were more disappointed than surprised. You don’t understand why.

“I guess I wasn’t careful. I don’t care for what if someone saw me because like I said, I thought I should take a break from you and back to my life before I met you.”

“Probably she was one of the women I danced with or I kissed-” he grimaces again. “I don’t know. I was ready to come home to you and make up for what I did.”

Silence falls between both of you again, unsure of what to say. It’s too much to absorb; at least to you. You have a lot to ask him but they disappear the moment Yugyeom shows you the whole picture. Now that you heard his explanation, your brain starts working more questions but unrelated to previous questions.

What now? What do you do? You heard his confession, you resolved your frustration. It turns out Yugyeom was a big idiot and it costs your relationship to make him realise that life isn’t all simple.

Your eyes dart to the man before you, hesitating to ask the real question. You know how much he broke you. You weren’t ready to hear that he moved on, but you wanted to know if you were to make a stupid move, you need to know what he feels about you.

“Do you…” you trail off, unsure how to put it. Yugyeom’s attention perks at your halt, watching you slowly shifting into panic mode. “Have you ever once..”

“Love me?” you feel small, you feel rejected. You always feel that when you’re with Yugyeom, you know how insecure you were when it comes to him. His view meant a lot to you and you guess after years, you haven’t changed. You still seek for his validation and that’s when you realise you have very little self-confidence.

Instead of scoffing like how you thought, Yugyeom offers a sweet smile, his eyes however, don’t shine as sweet as his smile. “I do, y/n.”

“I never stopped loving you, if that’s what you were wondering.”

He stops at that, making you wonder what’s wrong. He never stopped loving you. So? No continuation?

He laughs, leaning back to sip his chocolate drink. “I can hear your thoughts, y/n. I know you’re overthinking and you are irritated.”

“I never stopped loving you. But I don’t know if I’m worth your love again.”

“I have done a lot of damage to you, one of which is destroying your future without properly explaining what happened. I saw your shoulder slumped and I never saw that smile again.”

He grins, however it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I think I shall no longer exist in your life, y/n.”

You almost wanted to argue but he stops you with his next sentence. “I don’t want me to influence your life. You’re beautiful, y/n. You’re beautiful and you’re a confident woman once upon a time ago. That’s why I was attracted to you before. However dating me changed you into an insecure woman; I am sorry about that.”

“I don’t want you to consider accepting me again because you love me. No, I don’t want you to do that. I need you to remember that this man has broken you once and probably will break you again in the future. I want you to build yourself again, no not for me but for you. For your own sake. I know you always seek my validation which I enjoyed when we dated but I realised it has degraded your worth.”

Sincerity keeps pouring out of him and you feel your eyes become teary, then the next second you feel them running down your cheeks. “You are worth much more than my validation. You don’t need my validation nor me. You need yourself, you need to love yourself for you to be able to build yourself stronger.”

“Please don’t cry,” Yugyeom’s hand moves to hold yours, only to retreat back to his side. “I love you, y/n. Please remember that. But I can’t let myself stop you from finding yourself back. I don’t want you to be my slave because you love me. You need to build yourself again. I don’t want to be a distraction to you.”

“But I want you back in my life.” you choke on a sob, excruciating pain shoots through you. Yes you’re being dumb because he is right, you need to find yourself. You lost yourself right when you dated Yugyeom so you do need to rebuild yourself. However, losing Yugyeom for the second time, you don’t know if you’re ready for that.

For once he reached over to hold your hand in his, covering your tiny fist with his huge palm. “One day, y/n. If fate wants us to stay together, we’ll stay together. I’ll make myself worthy of your love again.”

“Just not now, sweetheart.” your eyes shut tight, releasing more and more tears. He’s right. He’s right and you hate how right he sounds. “I’ll wait patiently for you. I’ll wait for you to mend yourself, I’ll wait for you to accept me back.”

“But when?” you’re not going to give up. You want assurance, you want to know that Yugyeom will be there when you succeed in finding yourself.

“Soon, sweetheart. When you are ready, when your heart is ready. When fate is ready, I’ll be there to prove my worth.”

“Promise?”

“Cross my heart.”

Soon, is an indefinite promise. Soon changes from weeks to months, months to years.

You stopped counting days after the sixth month, seeing you gained no difference in yourself, only looking forward to running into Yugyeom’s arms back again. You lied to yourself, saying you’ll find yourself when you’re with him. For months, you lied, desperately holding to that promise Yugyeom did during your last meeting. You assured yourself that you’ll change and he’ll come back sooner than you think.

On one random day, the string inside you snapped and suddenly everything hit you that Yugyeom was saying goodbye to you, he was ready to leave you. You cried for hours, angry and mad at how he played you. He coaxed you into believing that he’ll take you back when you change but deep down he knew that you won’t change. He knew that you will stubbornly lie to yourself because that’s how you did two years back. That’s how you lived after he walked out of your life, lying to yourself since that’s what you know the best.

Eight months and you saw a pattern changed in your lifestyle. You started sleeping early, giving your body enough sleep for the day. You started eating breakfast, something you’ve considered a few times but you always wake up late and rush to work. You started going out for a walk in the evening, tired of being trapped in the same apartment.

Walking alone was so cold, so boring and reminded you of old times. On impulse you detoured to a shelter one day, adopting a dog.

She is a small golden retriever, around 3 months old, active and very clingy. Adopting her helps you relax, focusing every single problem only on her, no other things. She, after weeks living with you, is finally called Chestnut. You laugh at yourself after you named her, so much for the originality.

Living with Chessy is everything you’ve needed. She helps you discipline, soon you fall into a routine that you yourself didn’t realise. Chessy is easy to take care, though quite fussy and picky with people. She doesn’t particularly like strangers and only warming up to people she’s chosen to warm up to, which is now, only three people. You, your mom and your dad. You never take it as a problem since you don’t really associate with other people anyways. Chessy’s behaviour also helps you at times where you want your co-workers out of your sight, she will bark at them immediately to chase them away.

Chessy becomes a part of you, someone who makes you look forward to coming home.

Soon has turned into three years, you changed into a more independent woman, leaving your old self behind. In the span of three years, you resigned, leaving your toxic coworkers and friends to a new workplace. You enjoy yourself, surrounded with a new and positive environment. Your current boss is everything you wanted, keep giving his employees chances to grow and soar high.

You, driven by the new environment, escalated your self esteem pretty quick, making you braver and stronger day by day. Your colleagues help in building your confidence, always there to guide you to be better. In short, you feel your life falling into the right places.

Perhaps this was what Yugyeom said.

Finding yourself is the best thing you’d ever achieve in your life. You never feel so happy than right now, where you feel that you can breathe easily without something weighing you down. Perhaps this was what Yugyeom wanted you to feel, before finding him again. This new version of you is unbreakable, built with much self-love and respect.

This version of you indeed, feels alive.

Fifth year and you’re living as a completely new person, someone easy-going and social. You’re still you, but a better version. Your fashion changes, your lifestyle changes and your mindset changes. You believe that everything happens for a reason, that you probably know what it is sooner or later. You believe that every decision and every step you take, you must be held accountable. You should not regret and dwell on that decision if it turns out wrong, but you’ll improve yourself to be better. And that includes making a wise decision.

You never have to ask for someone’s validation anymore. Your work, your decision, your mind. What you plan is what you’ll do. You’ve changed your working style and you have to admit, it is easier right now. You’re confident and always ready, it lessens the stress in you.

You never thought you’d arrive at this point.

Yugyeom was right.

After years being mad at him for standing you up, you finally agree that what he did was right.

It will be impossible for you to be at this point if he’s by your side, clouding your every decision. You’ll fall into the same routine again, you will never get to build yourself and act as your own person.

Sky decides that it’s a perfect time to cry and here you are, sitting with Chessy in your lap, nuzzling into your warmth. Your new apartment gives you a window with a ledge, a perfect place for you when you need your thoughts to run wild. You always use it to your fullest, especially on rainy days where you stay indoor, enjoying the warmth of your apartment.

Running your hand through her fur, you wonder.

‘Where are you at, Yugyeom-ah?’

The smell of coffee has always made you calm. You don’t know why but there are two smells that calm you. Coffee and Yugyeom. You smile, shaking your thoughts away as the cashier hands you your change. Your attention shifts to Chessy, who’s waiting outside of the coffee shop since she can’t come in. You’re on your usual evening walk with Chessy, a routine you won’t miss whenever weekend comes. Chessy enjoys a walk and so do you.

When your buzzer vibrates, you quickly get your coffee and that’s when your attention falls again on Chessy, sniffing a stranger’s hand outside the shop. Your heart thumps at the possibility that the person would kidnap Chessy; not that it would be possible since Chessy can bark really loud but you can’t be so sure, so you quicken your step outside, only to see Chessy shaking hands with a man in a checkered shirt.

“Chessy!” instantaneously, you exclaim, wondering how weird Chessy is, being kind to strangers.

Both your dog and the man jolt in surprise, you realise how he stiffens after you call out Chessy’s name. His outline seems familiar, a rush of cold air passes and you’re stunned at how easily your mind can recognise him.

The broad shoulders, the baseball cap, the checkered shirt, the worn-out jeans.

The scent.

“Chessy.” he repeats, cooing and patting your dog. “A sweet name for a cute dog like you, right sweetheart?”

“Your mom must be good at picking names.” he smiles, standing up from Chessy to face you.

“Yugyeom.” Just like that, memories from five years ago hit you, playing scenes after scenes in your head.

“Y/n.” he breathes out your name and your heart skips a beat, knowing how much you miss him. “I’m sorry. I don’t know she’s your dog. She’s so cute, obediently waiting outside the shop so I wanted to greet her.”

He grins at Chessy, who’s now by your side, wagging her tail happily.

You’re still stunned but you shall not show that you are, so you swallow your overwhelmness to respond.

“It’s okay. She likes you.”

His face lightens up, darting his eyes to Chessy. “Really? You like me?”

His whole behaviour screams your old Yugyeom but deep down you know, he’s not yours. You are still overwhelmed to meet him but as he said, fate will decide on it. You don’t search for him and you think he doesn’t search for you too. You think that’s just how fate wants you to meet. You have a lot to ask him.

How have you been? Did you do well? Do you know that I moved? Did you know that I changed my workplace? Have you been healthy?

All that stuff. You just want to catch a conversation, to be updated about him.

Your cheeks lift up, stretching a smile on your face. However it lasts shortly before you remember that he’s not supposed to touch Chessy.

“Wait. You shook hands with her just now?”

“Yes? Why?”

“You’re not supposed to!” you fuss, panicking. “You have allergies, remember? Oh my god why would you touch her?”

At that Yugyeom laughs. He laughs and your entire body stops functioning. It’s been too long since you heard him laughing and you want to capture his laugh in your mind in case fate decides that you shall no longer cross path after this.

“Why are you laughing?” you’re breathless but you are still worried. Why would he laugh? This is a serious situation. Yugyeom’s allergies hit quite hard before and he could be bedridden if he didn’t take his meds quickly.

“I’m okay with her fur. I am allergic but only to a certain type of fur.” he bends down to pat her again, before giving you an apologetic smile. “I need to go.”

“Oh.” you don’t intend your gasp to be that obvious but probably you wanted him to stay longer. It’s too short for five years. “I’m sorry for taking your time.”

He smiles and shakes his head. “No, y/n. I’m glad I met you.”

“Perhaps we can catch up again.”

“How?”

He starts walking backward, eyes promising another meeting. “Like how today happens.”

Funny how five years you’ve been in the neighbourhood, you had never once met Yugyeom, coincidentally or accidentally. Probably you’ve been busy with work, with the newest project that kept you at work even on weekends. However since it was submitted last week, you have some free time to yourself and are able to take a walk during the weekend.

And then you met Yugyeom again the next two weeks.

He was out for a jog and you were on your routine, bringing Chessy for a walk. Days passed and you felt your schedules synchronised, every time you’re out for a walk, he’s out for a jog too. It feels too real to be true that you start making all sorts of assumptions in your head.

“I think you’re stalking me.” was the first thing you said to Yugyeom after you met him for the fourth time. “It’s impossible that I met you every time I am out with Chessy!”

He laughed as you kept accusing him for stalking you, before replying “Maybe I’m just interested in Chessy. Right, sweetheart?”

Chessy barked happily, siding with Yugyeom even more.

Fourth becomes fifth, and fifth becomes tenth.

You decided that you don’t have an issue with your schedules synchronised so you start adjusting to the change, to the extent of having coffee with him after your walk.

“I think it’s just useless if I were to have chocolate every time after I went for a jog.” Yugyeom sips on his drink, almost spluttering his chocolate drink when he meets your judging eyes. He cracks up as you try not to stab him with your straw.

“Is it my fault then? I never forced you to drink with me!”

“You did.” he points out. “You asked me ‘do you want to have some drink?’”

“I asked if you want to, not that you are obligated too.” you roll your eyes, sipping your own coffee. “Chessy, your admirer is so annoying.”

Yugyeom chuckles, setting down his drink on the table. “You don’t force me. I just want to.”

That statement skips your heart a beat, however you did not press on it. You let it flow, savoring your friendship. You decide that it is the best if you stay as friends first, there is no need to get into a relationship where both of you might screw up again. You need to build a strong foundation first, before taking the responsibility.

Your weekend meetings continue, both of you start updating on your life. You with your work and Yugyeom about the guys and his life. It becomes a routine between you two, now you are sure that your schedules aren’t synchronised, it is more to you actually serving an empty slot just for him.

Like he does for you.

After months, you meet his friend circle again, just him inviting you to their gathering. You never thought that you’ll miss them; well you don’t have time to think about them before. You never thought you’d feel complete when you saw Jaebeom and Bambam bicker or Jackson and Jinyoung dissing each other. You just feel like a misplaced puzzle inside you finally fits, finally relocates and completes.

“What are you thinking?” Yugyeom asks as he walks you home from the gathering. You choose to walk rather than drive, just in case they decide to drink so you’ll take a cab home. But Yugyeom offers to walk with you, Bambam taking his car home instead.

“Us.”

He stops in his tracks, watching you still walking forward. You know that he’s afraid of mentioning it first. You saw his curious eyes and you can’t blame him for not bringing this up. He still fears that he’ll make the same mistake and will break you again.

So you turn around, smiling as bright as you can, determined to make him see that you are ready.

“Are you sure, y/n?” he licks his lip nervously. “I can wait. I don’t want you to feel burdened. If you don’t want me then I’m good with it.”

“Yugyeom.” you reach to hold his hands, gripping it tight. “I am sure with my decision.”

“I’ve thought of it over and over again and if I want someone else I should already have them now. But I don’t want someone else. I want you.”

“But what if,” his voice falters, fear starts clouding his mind. “What if I hurt you again? What if I make a mistake again?”

His voice comes out like a squeak, like he’s too vulnerable and scared.

“Gyeom-ah.” you call him, still caressing his hand. “We can make this right. We’ll talk about what is working and what’s not. We need to be honest to each other.”

“We’ll be rational and sort things out. We will, Yugyeom. We will.”

“We will?”

You nod, etching a smile. “We will.”

Winter has never been warmer than that night. Yugyeom finds you in his arms again, stronger and unbreakable. He’s relieved, though worried what the future has for both of you.

For now he’ll focus on you, the one that fills his empty space.

[ Writings ]

#yugyeom fic #kim yugyeom fic #got7 yugyeom fic #yugyeom fanfic #yugyeom angst #yugyeom imagines #got7 yugyeom fanfic #got7 yugyeom angst #got7 yugyeom imagines #got7 fanfic #angst fanfic #got7 angst fanfic #happy 1k to me!#milestone #milestone fic #celebratory fic

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jimlingss · 5 years

Text

Inside My Mind [M]

➜ Words: 19.2k

➜ Genres: 50% Fluff, 50% Smut, High School!AU

➜ Summary: You're safe in the confines of your mind. Free to think whatever, free to fantasize to your heart's content. And your imagination tends to quite a wild turn when you’re dying from sheer boredom. But when some GUY IN YOUR CLASS CAN FUCKING READ MINDS - YOU'RE NOT SAFE ANYMORE! WHAT THE FUCKSKDKASDFGHJKL—

➜ Warnings: semi-public sex, attempts at dirty talk, consenting minors engaging in sexual actives with each other, first-time sex, brief depiction of tone-deaf sexual education that doesn’t do shit.

You’re safe in the depths of your own mind. No one knows what you’re thinking — they can’t tell when you have a constant poker face and the only change in your features is the way your brows furrow in concentration every so often. But if the teacher and your classmates knew what was going inside your brain, they’d be aware that you were bored out of your goddamn mind. “Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear. So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows, as yonder lady o’er her fellows shows. What does this mean? Flip to the page fifty eight and the modern translation is her beauty is too good for this world; she’s too beautiful to die and be buried. She outshines the other women like a white dove in the middle of a flock of crows. Now with the critical analysis of this soliloquy, we can deduct—” You’re drowsy. Sleepy. Your eyelids are heavy and you feel yourself losing consciousness, head beginning to dip slightly. Everyone else seems to be dulled from the lesson like you, but none are asleep and the last thing you want is to fall out of your chair and draw attention to yourself. So you try jostling your leg. But after a moment, it doesn’t dispel the seduction of sleep. You resort to pinching yourself, but it doesn’t work either. So you go to your last resort, allowing your mind to wander, pulling yourself away from reality…. You imagine someone crawling underneath your desk. Their rough hand tapping up your thigh, shoving your skirt up before carefully pulling your underwear down. This faceless person’s hot breath would skim against your leaking cunt and you’d feel their soft lips right on your flesh. “You like this?” They’d chuckle lowly, vibrations traveling through your skin. “Eating you out in the middle of class like this. What a bad girl. It’s disgusting. What if they see, hmm?” You envision them beginning to eat you out, face pulled up on your slit. Their tongue would penetrate through your hole and you’d clench around them. You’d grab their hair, sinking your fingers through their strands, pushing them closer to you while throwing your own head back to moan. These fantasies make you wide awake again and no one can even tell you’re not paying attention. // The lunch bell rings and you’re finally dismissed from class, freed from the horribly dull lesson. You’re one of the last to leave the classroom, taking your time and humming while walking out by yourself. But your mind is still reeling from your most recent conjured up fantasy. You’re still thinking about the way this faceless person would lick you up, from the bottom of your slit all the way to your clit. Their tongue would swirl around your folds, eyes glancing up to look at your fucked out expression, their tiny chuckles that would vibrate through your body and make your core clench— Wide eyes shock you back to reality. You go crumbling back to the ground, head out of the clouds. Someone’s stopped in the middle of the hallway, blocking your path. They’ve whirled their head around. The dark-haired boy in thick rimmed spectacles looks at you in unadulterated horror and mortification, brown eyes locked into yours. The pair of you stare at each other. Colour drains from his face, lips parted, jaw dropped. It’s almost as if you have said your thoughts out loud for him to hear… “Namjoon!” His friend calls out his name, breaking the private bubble between you two. He runs up to him and quickly takes a glimpse of you. You don’t waste a second to step aside, moving out of the way and walking by them. “Who’s that?” Jinyoung asks, eyes following your backside. Namjoon answers after a delayed beat. “Y/N.” “Huh.” His friend frowns. “Never heard of her. Anyways, what did you think of—” Kim Namjoon is a smart, quiet individual. You’ve known him since sixth grade, but you’ve only spoken a few sentences to him at best when you were forcibly paired up by teachers for group projects. You don’t remember much about him. Only enough to recognize his face. He’s an outsider….much like you are. People think you’re a pleasant, hardworking, studious girl who’s compliant and no-nonsense. At least that’s your exterior. The type to live a quiet life and die quietly without contributing much to society. And you like that image — it’s not too far from the truth. But more importantly, it protects the true thoughts brewing inside your head. But as you walk away, you can’t help glancing behind, over your shoulder towards the boy. He’s weird. And you can’t remember what you were even thinking about anymore. // Against your will, you begin to notice Kim Namjoon. You share biology and health class together; he sits a few rows away from you by the wall. And your eyes can’t help but stray off to him constantly. It’s just strange. You can’t stop your fixation about the way he looked at you, brown eyes shocked and scandalized, cheeks coloured in pink embarrassment. It’s suspicious. The teacher drones on and on about how the myelin sheath deteriorates and the gears of your brain start turning in sheer boredom. You glance at Namjoon’s profile from meters away before you look over to the door, envisioning someone striding in, disregarding the teacher completely. They’d march up to your desk and pull you up by your arm until you’re standing on your feet. You imagine being pulled in, your crotch pressed to theirs. Your mouth would be devoured by their probing tongue. You’d whine at the back of your throat, grabbing onto their shoulders until they’d grunt back, having enough of it and whirling you around. You imagine being bent over your desk, underwear pushed aside and thick fingers mercilessly shoving into your cunt. They’d curl up their knuckles and you’d cry out, grabbing the edge of your desk, notebooks and pencil cases tumbling to the ground. They’d poke and prod, pulling their fingers out to plunge them back in again, collecting your slick between their fingertips. “You like that? Look. You’re leaking all onto the floor.” Your fantasies continue. For the rest of class, you continue to daydream, head in the clouds without anyone noticing. The bell eventually rings. The students are dismissed. As you leave, your eyes stray off to Namjoon again. He’s still sitting in his desk, unmoving. And again, there’s that horrified expression on his face. He’s red from his chin to his forehead, refusing to meet your eye even when you’re blatantly staring. More importantly, there’s something weird poking out in his lap and as you pass, he covers it up with his backpack. Weird. There’s something not right about this and you’re sure you’re not imagining this. You’ve made your observation. You’ve created a question. You’ve formed a hypothesis and as outrageous as it is, it’s the best educated guess you got. And for the rest of the week, you conduct your experiment and collect the data through examining him afterwards. When Monday arrives, you waltz to biology class, stealing a seat directly behind the guy. Class hasn’t started, each person is still getting settled down. You prop your elbow on the desk, cheek rested in your hand as you stare at the back of his head. The strands of his hair are poking in different directions — you wonder if it’s bed head — you also spot a few moles on the nape of his neck and your eyes trace them, drawing lines like you’re making constellations. There’s no way, but there’s no other explanation. With a deep breath, you test your theory. Namjoon. He turns around. “What?” The corner of your mouth tugs into a discreet smirk. You weren’t wrong. His eyes widen, nearly falling out of their sockets and his jaw goes slack. He knows you’ve caught him red-handed. But you merely shake your head, going expressionless and you stare back at him. “I didn’t call you.” You didn’t. You thought his name. It shouldn’t be possible, but rather than being shocked or confused, you’re excited that your hypothesis was correct after all. It’s crazy and wild, but you were right! “Y/N—” “Alright, alright, kids. Settle down. We have a lot to get through today. Your midterms are in three weeks and we’re slightly behind the other class…” The teacher interrupts and he’s forced to turn back around and pay attention. For the rest of class, you think of nothing, simply paying attention to the best of your abilities despite becoming more and more drowsy. By the time everyone’s dismissed again, Kim Namjoon whirls himself around fast enough to get whiplash and he grabs your wrist before you can flee. “C-Can I talk to you?” // The two of you end up at the back of the school, standing on the dead grass beside the spray painted wall. It’s a place where love confessions happen or fights are scheduled. You’re pretty sure he’s going to do neither — no one has crushes on you and while the guy is taller and broader than you are, you doubt he would try to beat you to a pulp. Probably. “H-how did you figure it out?” Namjoon’s a nervous mess, pushing his dirty glasses up the slope of his nose. It slumps down again, but he doesn’t seem to care. He’s sweating buckets, swallowing hard, panicked. You shrug. “I just did.” You don’t want to talk about your fantasies out loud and how you caught the look on his face. You’re more interested in this skill of his, curiosity piqued. “So it’s true then? You can read minds?” The boy’s trying his best to explain himself. “I-...I was born with this ability. It...it skips a generation in my family and I was the one to get it. I’ve always had it. D-don’t tell anyone. No one else knows and I don’t want to be part of an experiment.” Like the one you did on him, except you imagine a proper experiment might be worse. NASA would probably strap him to a table and pull apart his brain to see what’s going on. You get his fears and he seems to read your mind, becoming relieved at your thoughts. “Sorry for putting you through my experiment.” You step closer, invading his personal space without realizing. “But can you really do it? It’s just a bit hard for me to believe. What am I thinking about right now?” He stumbles back a step, uncomfortable. “Me.” It’s obvious, so you envision a string of numbers inside your head. “What number am I thinking about?” “One thousand five hundred sixty four.” Your mouth draws open. “What an—” “Horses.” “What—” “Blue.” “Shit!” You’re grinning, arms in the air, unable to contain how impressed and excited you are. “This is so cool! Why didn’t I know about this before?!” A timid smile pulls onto his cheeks. “I mean we don’t really talk—” “Oh my god.” Your expression washes over to a deadpan, lips pressing together. “Do you get good grades because you cheat on tests?” “I mean...I try...not to…” “God, this is so unfair, but also,” you eye him up and down while stepping back, “really invasive.” The boy swallows hard, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he redirects his vision downwards to his shoes. “Sorry about that.” You grimace, muttering, “d-don’t expose my thoughts….” Namjoon becomes red in the face, knowing exactly what you’re referring to. “I won’t. I don’t think I’d even be able to say the things you think out loud.” You scoff, crossing your arms and defending yourself. “It’s normal, you know, for people our age to be a bit….hormonal.” “Alright,” he answers, but you can hear the skeptical tone. You’re a freak — it’s true, but you didn’t want anyone to know, Namjoon is most definitely not an exception to that either. “Don’t reveal my secret and I won’t reveal yours. Deal?” you offer it up, negotiating and he nods, promising not to. It’s cool that Namjoon can read minds, but you’re not sure what to do with this new information. You guess you have mixed feelings with the idea that your thoughts and fantasies are no longer safe, but it’s not like you two interact with each other much or even talk. It’s still exciting, but doesn’t change much of anything. The pair of you part ways, returning to the strangers that you are.

That should be it. You now know that he can read minds. He knows you’re a freak in disguise. A secret for a secret. There’s no reason for any more interaction or conversations to be exchanged. You both lead your own separate lives… But while your mouth doesn’t physically make sounds towards him nor do your eyes stray onto him anymore, your mind travels far and wide. In the middle of a school assembly, forced to stand there and listen to the principal speak, your brain begins to do what it does best — dreaming about fantasies that can’t be fulfilled in reality. You imagine someone sneaking behind you, arms wrapping around your abdomen. They’d turn your head and force their tongue down your throat, claiming you as their own. Their hands would wander, from the skin of your stomach down to your navel and then past the band of your panties— There’s a poke to your side, bringing you back to reality “Can you stop?” the person mutters out from the corner of their mouth in frustration. You look over, finding Namjoon standing right beside you. OH. “It’s distracting,” he dips his head, whispering and trying to remain discreet, not drawing the attention of any teacher who would reprimand him for talking when he’s not supposed to. You open your mouth to defend yourself, but then you remember he can hear your thoughts. Get out of my head, Namjoon! Oh my god! What’s wrong with you?! “I can’t,” he murmurs, looking straight forward to the principal who’s now talking about keeping the school as clean and environmentally friendly as possible. “You’re too close in my proximity.” Luckily enough, most of your fantasies are of faceless people. Sometimes you fantasize about celebrities, but most often than not, you never discern a specific person, never dwelling on their facial details. But that still doesn’t make it any less mortifying. When someone tells you to stop thinking about something, all you can do is think about it. Falling onto the ground. Being pinned to the gymnasium floor. Being fucked roughly until screaming— “Y/N.” Namjoon calls you louder this time, jabbing your side and several students turn around to see what’s going on. None of you move, looking straight ahead and they spin back around. After a moment of silence, he looks at you again. “Stop.” I can’t! I can’t help it! I can’t contain it. I just...I’m too….horny. “Oh my god.” Namjoon is flustered and he puts his hands into his pants pocket, shifting uncomfortably. “Can you please pay attention and listen or like...think about what you’re going to eat later for dinner?” Fine. God. You’re annoying. You’re so annoying! Who told you to get into my head?! This is so embarrassing! I want to die. Oh my god. Get out of my brain! Get out! Get out!! For the rest of the assembly, you’re insulting him and whining inside your mind, wishing the world would just swallow you whole or at least let you curl up into a ball of shame. It’s not your fault that you like to think about these things. It’s normal in fact. People act on their urges. At least you have enough self-restraint than them and you put on a better facade. Why do you have to be punished for something out of your control? // It turns out you’re not safe anywhere. Before all this, your fantasies would come occasionally when you were bored in class and your brain began wandering. But now that you knew your thoughts were exposed and you were trying your best not to think about it anymore, it’s inadvertently all you can think about. It’s reverse psychology at its worst. It especially becomes severe when Namjoon’s around, namely in biology and health class when you’re actively conscious of his presence. Even when he sits across the classroom from you, as far as he can physically get, every ten minutes, you see him turn in his seat to glare at you with bright pink cheeks. “I can’t pay attention in class,” he mutters one day when he decides to sit next to you — apparently taking a seat here and far away makes zero difference to him. “Look, my thoughts are my thoughts,” you harshly whisper, not letting anyone else eavesdrop lest their blood run cold as well. “Maybe you should try zoning me out instead. Didn’t you say you were born with...this? Shouldn’t you be good at ignoring people’s thoughts?” You don’t understand. There were thirty kids around — you couldn’t be the only one bothering him. “Yeah, but your thoughts are...different.” He’s frustrated, huffing out and pushing his glasses up. “Can’t you control your urges for an hour?” For a moment, you forget he can read your mind. When you remember again, you don’t say anything. You think of your answer. No. But despite your annoyance and embarrassment, you try your best. And you do remain focused for the entire lesson, listening and taking diligent notes. When you get confused at a portion, frowning and erasing a few sentences, Namjoon leans over and passes you his notebook. There’s a note in the corner that reads: he means protein, not lipids. It clicks inside your brain and you pass it back to him, meeting his brown eyes. Thanks. Namjoon smiles and you muse he isn’t such a bad guy…. It’s a thought that has his smile widening. // At the end of the day, you pack up your belongings, swinging the backpack over your shoulders to begin the trek home. It’s your usual routine, walking past the school gate, fiddling with your earbuds and listening to some music as you walk down the road. But the main difference of today is that you notice a certain someone is ahead of you, going in the same direction. You rip out your headphones, quickening your pace to meet theirs. And the moment you get three meters away, he turns around, already hearing your thoughts. What are you doing here? “Taking the bus home,” Namjoon answers with a few blinks and when your next question appears, he elaborates, “I usually stay at school for a bit to finish some work.” Oh. That makes sense. I never usually see you. “Actually, I’ve seen you a few times...waiting for the bus….not on purpose. You just happen to be standing there.” Huh. I guess I never noticed. The boy syncs his steps into yours and he scratches the back of his neck, peeking at you quickly. “Y/N, c-can you talk out loud? It’s kind of weird to other people if I’m the only one talking to you and you’re saying nothing.” “Oh. Yeah. Sorry.” You nod, having gotten used to communicating through your mind. “Is it...weird to hear people’s thoughts all the time?” “Yeah.” A tiny smile graces the boy’s lips, having never thought of encapsulating his ability in that one word that undermines yet explains everything he feels. “It’s weird. And really noisy.” “Seems pretty cool though.” “You’d think. But that’s until you know what’s going in people’s heads.” Namjoon releases a wistful sigh and steals a glance at you before shying away. You’re the only one who knows outside of his family and he seizes the moment to share a piece of his sadness, wanting someone to understand. He murmurs, “There’s a reason I’m not that close to anyone...” You stare at him, not sure what to say. You never really thought about the repercussions — solely focusing on yourself and hating how he invaded your head. But for a split second, you see the pain etched onto his features. His ability might be more of a curse than a blessing. “You’re not close to your family?” you ask. At this point, you’re sure there’s no such thing as boundaries or privacy between each other, no question or topic that’s off limits. “Not really,” Namjoon admits casually and your heart aches for him, not knowing what to say. “I know what they really think of me.” “Well a lot of people think things they don’t mean to say or do. Thoughts come and go. And we all get angry and upset sometimes. I’m sure your parents care about you. If they didn’t, they wouldn’t...be around, right?” He smiles softly, knowing that you’re trying to comfort him. “Yeah, I guess. You’d be surprised though. A lot of people’s thoughts are bad and evil. Yours is just dirty.” Namjoon becomes shy, but he says it so bluntly almost like he doesn’t mind it so much anymore. Your eyes immediately avert away from him, scoffing and trying not to burn up in shame. The boy grins and he also looks ahead, down the road sparse of people. He continues, trying to ease the heaviness of the conversation, “Whelp, it’s not all that bad. I’m planning to go to MK National University, so…...yeah, I’ll be able to kind of get away for a while.” “Oh. What do you want to do?” “I don’t know yet. I’m thinking maybe their engineering program. I think I’m interested in civil engineering.” Namjoon nods and he seems more sure of himself than how he makes it out to be. It occurs to you how cute his awkwardness is, the way he’s kind of pure and sweet, how his uniform seems more stretched out than it’s supposed to be. But as fast as these thoughts flood into your system, you quickly nip them in the bud before he knows. “How about you?” “I’ve actually been considering going to MKNU too. I think I want to go into a mathematics program.” You shrug. “But I have no idea what I’ll do with that degree yet. I just like math.” Other clusters of kids around are talking about what they want to eat later, the latest hot gossip around school, what movies have come out, but here you and Namjoon are, being nerds. You’re sharing your love for math while talking about post secondary and the application process that most don’t even know about yet. It’s been a while since you’ve met someone as passionate about school as you are. “That’s impressive. Doesn’t their mathematics program require an eighty five percent average?” “Something like that. I don’t remember the exact number. Engineering’s not too far off, I think. But yeah, things would be okay if it wasn’t for biology dragging my entire mark down.” You exhale a lungful, lolling your head to one side while feeling death upon your shoulders. “I haven’t been really paying attention, so that doesn’t help. It’s just really boring to me.” “Yeah. I can tell.” Namjoon laughs, a gentle sound that rings pleasantly into your ears. He refers to your distracting thoughts and before you can defend yourself, he says, “I can help you if you want. I get it. Mostly.” You perk up, spine straightening, steps slowing as your eyes widen. “Really?” “If you can help me with calculus,” he negotiates with a reserved smile. “There’s some differentiation questions that I’m kind of confused on.” The boy already knows the answer before it’s come out of your mouth. It’s a deal of a lifetime after all and you’d jump oceans to take it. His smile widens yet again at your excitement. Deal. “Deal! Sounds like a plan, Kim!” // The corner spot of the library is your usual place, chair and table positioned perfectly so you can see the entrance and you’ll be able to quickly look up and call him over when he comes. But for now, you pull out your textbook, notebooks and pencil case, flipping through the review book you printed out and seeing what questions you can answer on your own. You become lost in your work, focused to the point of forgetting your surroundings, so you don’t see who’s approaching until they slide up right beside you. “Hey. Seulgi, is it?” Jung Hoseok has his elbows propped up on the table, cheek rested in his hand as he lazily smirks at you. His dark-hair is gelled back, small gold chain on top of his uniform that you’re sure is bought from ebay, top buttons of his shirt loose like his slacks. You are wholly unimpressed. “What? No.” “Oh shit. Aren’t you in Mr. Jeon’s math class?” “No.” You shake your head slowly, wondering why he’s talking to you. The guy doesn’t even know your name. He’s radiating off these sleazy vibes too that you don’t appreciate. You hope he leaves soon. “I’m in Mr. Min’s.” “Shit.” He raises his hands, palms out like he’s being arrested. “My bad. Swore I’ve seen you before though.” “Yeah. I go to school here,” you say in an exaggerated tone. You want to go back to work. He’s interrupted you rudely and you still don’t know what he wants with you. “Do you need something?” “Did your class do those math worksheets?” He leans back. “I...uh...kinda forgot they were due today and was wondering if you could...help me out…” You pause, annoyed beyond belief. But to outsiders, your meek exterior remains. People always think they can step on you, but it’s not like that at all. “Sorry. We didn’t get them,” you lie and fortunately, he can’t read your mind. Jung Hoseok doesn’t know that you got them two weeks ago, that you finished them a few days after and it’s sitting in your backpack right now. “Oh, cool. But think you can help me—” You stand abruptly. A grin spreads into your face and you wave your arm towards the entrance, completely looking past the fuck boy that is Jung Hoseok. “Namjoon!” Your shout is too loud for the silent space of the library, and a few turn around to stare. The librarian recognizes you and doesn’t mind the one time offense of being noisy. The boy you’re signalling comes tottling over with his own smile, books in hand, backpack swinging on one shoulder, pushing his thick-rimmed glasses up the slope of his nose. “I saved you a spot.” You motion across from you before glancing at Hoseok and shooing him away with an innocent question, “Are you moving?” At the same time, someone weaves through the bookshelves. A tall, pretty female comes out and by her long black hair and shorter skirt; you recognize her as Krystal. She lolls her head to her shoulder. “Hey, Jay. Are we going or what?” “Oh yeah. Hold up.” He gets up, tucks the chair in before the librarian yells at him. He throws an arm around the girl’s shoulder and as Namjoon gets settled down, the female looks at both you and him in equal disdain. “Who did you talk to?” she murmurs, but you hear it loud and clear. Hoseok shrugs, walking away. “Thought she was in my class.” You and Namjoon are nobodies and while you don’t know how he feels about it or if he has an opinion at all, you personally like it that way. You enjoy being on the down low, living a discreet life and not drawing any unnecessary attention to yourself. “Was he bothering you?” Namjoon pulls out his notebooks, stealing a peek at you. A scoff is pulled out of your throat. “No. He just interrupted me in the middle of solving a question. Speaking of which, I don’t really get number nine. I’m really confused on the concept of trisomy and disomy and figuring out ploidy numbers. I don’t get how the answer can be b and not a.” “Okay, wait.” He softly laughs, practically dumping his backpack out on the table in haste. “Let me get out the booklet first.” The two of you study together, getting halfway through the booklet. Namjoon happily answers your questions and clears up any confusion you might have. While he waits for you to finish a question, he works on calculus homework that you’ve already completed and you help explain some things that he’s unsure about. But as you continue working, the boringness of biology begins to submerge you. At some point, you become drowsier and your brain wanders against your will out of sheer boredom. You imagine being pushed against the bookshelves, uniform skirt pulled up, someone’s hand cupping over your mouth to muffle your sounds as they start to rub their crotch all over you, humping your ass— “Y/N!” Namjoon shouts your name louder than he’s supposed to, shocked, and you come crashing down to reality. Some people turn around, startled, and they only return to their work when they realize nothing’s happening. Sorry. The boy sighs, red in the face. He shifts uncomfortably while you gingerly rub your thighs together beneath the table. A few seconds pass. He swallows hard, flipping through a few pages of his textbook and decides to speak his mind, whispers lowly, “Why...don’t you try porn?” What? What do you mean? Like watching porn? No one knows the private conversation that’s happening in the corner of the library. “Maybe that can...help with your situation, so you can feel less…..horny...all the time.” Oh my god. Don’t say that word out loud!!! And you thought I haven’t tried?! I just...don’t like it. Most of the time, it goes too quickly and it’s too cringey and cliché and I’m not a fan of close ups of...genitalia. For your information, I’ve tried writing erotica too, but I couldn’t finish. I’ve tried, thank you very much. You slump in your seat, cheeks warming as you admit these thoughts. Namjoon nods, finding your arguments fair. He tries to search for a solution to your predicament. “Have you ever tried...you know….relieving yourself?” Sometimes. You remember those late nights after your parents have gone to bed. In the darkness of your bedroom, you like to put your soft pillow between your thighs and rock back and forth to release some tension in your body. You stifle the sounds with your blanket, but often times the pillow isn’t enough and your hands always go to your shorts, rubbing the spot that makes it feel good— Namjoon’s hand suddenly propels forward, latching onto your wrist. He lowers his head until his forehead is practically pressed on the pages of his notebook, eyes unable to meet yours. “Can you please stop thinking about it?” he harshly whispers, begging you. Immediately, you’re mortified. You let the thoughts slip. Namjoon knows how you get yourself off now. I can’t help it! You feel less like a teenager and more like a hyperactive rabbit in need of reproducing. These primitive urges overwhelm you and while you’ve restrained yourself in a physical manner, it’s difficult to get your thoughts in control as well. But you were supposed to be safe in your own head. Merely thinking and not acting was supposed to be good enough. You think I’m not frustrated either?! I don’t need these distractions in my life, okay?! I’m just trying to get into uni. It’s your fault for reading my mind all the time. Can’t YOU just stop?! “I can’t either,” he argues back, huffing with a frown. It becomes silenced. A grimace has permanently made its mark on your features. Your mechanical pencil digs roughly against the paper as you move to solve the next question and do the proper calculations. But it snaps with the force of your hand and you groan, pressing the end to bring out more lead. You force yourself to focus and keep answering. But no matter what you do outwardly, Namjoon can still hear your internal self — he knows you’re angry with him, angry with yourself. Five minutes pass before the boy can’t take it anymore. He lifts his chin and finds the furrow of your brows. “Y/N.” “What.” Your tone is short, curt, decorated with a slight pout. The corner of his mouth tickles, threatening to tug a bit. Namjoon takes a deep breath to prepare himself. Unlike him, you can’t hear the thoughts in his mind. He has to physically say out the words. “What if I helped you?” You raise your chin, locking your gaze with his, befuddled. “What?” The boy in the gawky glasses, awkward movements and oversized uniform moves closer, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, whispering lowly in a rumbling timbre, “I mean….what if we get it done and over with. You know...get over our primitive needs. Then none of us need to ever think about it again.” It’s like the pair of you are exchanging secrets under a blanket after building a secret fort together. You’re leaning over the table, nearly bent over and he’s moved his torso on top of the surface as well. But you still don’t get it, eyes blinking at him. “What are you talking about?” “You know—” Namjoon doesn’t want to say it out loud. “—that one word. Three letters. Starts with an S. Ends with an X.” Sex?! Your mind goes completely blank for a full three seconds. You. You want to have sex with me? “No-...yes….I mean…” He’s embarrassed that you thought about it so bluntly. If only the passing librarian knew that the two studious students in her library were talking about having sexual intercourse and not biology or mathematics, she’d faint. “I think about it too sometimes and...a lot a-actually...yeah...it doesn’t have to be a big deal, is what I’m saying. I mean we can get it done and over with. Do it once and get it out of our system….” You’re aware Namjoon isn’t acquainted with many girls. So this is a mutually beneficial agreement. A win-win. It doesn’t sound like a terrible idea. Don’t you want to wait for someone special though? “I-It doesn’t really matter to me,” he murmurs, stuttering and he’s fumbling with his words in a way you’ve never seen before. Somehow eloquent Namjoon has been reduced to the word ‘I mean’, repeating them over and over again as he shrivels up in shame. “And I mean...we’re friends. I mean, unless...unless y-you want to wait for someone special.” I don’t think I have time to be with someone special. Of all the fantasies you have, you honestly can’t imagine getting into a relationship. You have your priorities and the idea of going on dates is kind of cringey and awkward. But what strikes you in his offer is that— We’re friends? Namjoon’s face has gone red from his chin to his hairline. It’s endearing. And your thought makes the colour of his flushing skin deepen in hue. “I thought we were.” No...we are. But you’re about to become friends with benefits instead of normal platonic friends. “Do it once and get it out of your system?” you verbalize your words, making sure that you have it right. “Yeah, what do you think?” Namjoon searches your expression carefully. It’s not a bad proposition. Very realistic and maybe even responsible of you. Do it once and you can set your mind straight. You’ll be able to focus on what really matters and no longer have these futile delusions. Considering he has no experience like you, it’ll probably suck and that’s not such a bad thing either — your fantasies can stop after you’ve gotten a taste of reality. You don’t think of anything. You don’t say anything either. You simply nod. Agreeing. // The house is silent — for the most part. There are noises of thumping from above, footsteps thundering on the carpet that interrupt the otherwise quiet study session. Paper, notebooks, textbooks and worksheets are sprawled all over the table with pencils and erasers. You’re working hard on memorizing diagrams while the person across from you is pressing chains of numbers into their calculator. No sooner does your mom come prancing down the stairs, bag slung over her shoulder. “Y/N? I’m going to wor—...who is this?” She stops mid-step despite being late, eyes growing wide at the strange boy sitting at her dinner table. “Hmm?” You lift your head from your notes, playing it off nonchalantly. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. But, this is Namjoon. He’s a classmate. We’re just doing some biology review together since there’s a midterm coming up.” “Hello.” Namjoon gives a polite smile like a picture perfect son. “Nice to meet you.” “Kim Namjoon?” she questions, tipping her head to the side. Your brows raise. “You know him?” “Yes! I used to be close to your mother when you were in sixth grade and there was that school bake sale with Y/N and a whole bunch of other kids.” Her stern and defensive expression melts into a soft look, smile adorning her face. “I almost didn’t recognize you! My goodness, you’ve grown up so much! I remember when you were only this tall.” Her hand comes up to about her waist. “You always wore this blue Mickey Mouse hoodie around and you loved dinosaurs. I haven’t spoken to your mom in so long. Is she doing well?” “Yeah, she’s good.” He smiles, happy that his eleven-year old self made such a lasting impression. “Mom, aren’t you late for work?” You twist yourself all the way around, trying to get her to leave. She was embarrassing you and Namjoon knows — it makes him grin. Your mother is reminded and she whips her neck around to the clock then quickly moves to the foyer, grabbing her car keys and slipping on her shoes. In her rushing circumstances, she doesn’t even take a moment to consider the repercussions of leaving a teenage boy inside her house alone with her daughter. After all, he’s sweetheart Namjoon — what could he possibly do to you? “Right! I should get going. Your dad’s home in a few hours! If you get hungry, there’s food in the fridge and pizza in the freezer! Go heat some up for Namjoon. It’s not everyday that we have guests, so we shouldn’t leave them hungry!” “Got it. Bye!” The door slams shut and you turn back around with a sigh. “Sorry about that.” “It’s okay.” He returns to his work, finishing up with a question. There’s an extended pause, the sounds of pencil scratching the paper filling the silence before you ask, “What does she think?” You’re curious, wondering if she suspects anything at all. “She thinks I’m sweet.” Namjoon grins and you realize he has slight dimples in his cheeks when he does so. “And she’s glad you have a friend.” You scoff. Too bad your mom doesn’t know that this sweet boy she remembers as a sixth grader is about to fuck her daughter. The thought has Namjoon choking on air, sputtering on his spit, but neither of you say anything out loud, focusing on finishing up instead. In the next twenty minutes, you shut your textbook. Done. There’s only one thing left to do before he’s on his way. “Should we—….” “Yeah, I think we should…” It’s time to learn some real biology. “Okay.” You stand, showing him to your bedroom and he picks up his backpack along the way. “You got the goods?” “I got some goods that’ll help, I think. When’s your dad coming back by the way? I really...don’t want to be killed.” “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. We got like...three hours. But I doubt it’ll take that long.” More like three minutes. “Hey.” He gives you a look, pouting. You’re sheepish. Sorry. Namjoon enters your room while you apologize for it being so messy. You had actually cleaned it up and one read of your brain, he knows you tried hard and tells you it’s fine with a smile. He takes in the space of your bedroom, realizing it smells like you and he lingers awkwardly, not sure what protocol is. The only female bedroom he’s ever been in was his older sister’s and this was definitely not the same. He ends up following your lead, sitting beside you on your bed, right at the edge of your mattress. “So…” “What first?” “I don’t know.” It’s terribly, terribly awkward. You begin to second guess everything in your life that led up to this point, but you quickly calm your nerves and after some discussion, Namjoon ends up leaning against the headboard and you’re sitting in his lap stiffly, hovering over his thighs. “You can sit down properly. You won’t crush me or anything, so don’t worry about it.” “Okay.” But you’re still tense in his lap. Namjoon keeps his hands to himself, arms right by his side. He gulps and clears his throat. “We should probably kiss...right?” “Right. Um...have you kissed anyone before?” “No. You?” “Once,” you answer. “I think in Kindergarten while lining up for the water fountain, this kid turned around and our mouths kind of...hit each other.” “So no then.” He laughs and the sound eases your nerves a little. He swallows a mouthful of spit and his eyes flicker down to your lips for a second before going back into your eyes. “You wanna?” “I guess.” You shrug. “If we’re going to do it, might as well kiss. C-can I take this off though?” Namjoon nods and you carefully slide his thick-rimmed glasses off his face, leaning over to set them on the nightstand by your lamp. With a deep breath, you settle yourself back down onto his thighs, psyching yourself up. Okay, okay. You can do this. You can do this. It’s not a big deal. “You don’t have to be nervous,” he whispers and you nod. “Is it okay if we….” “Yeah. Just do it.” “Well...y-you should close your eyes.” “S-sounds good.” You shut your eyes tight, hands curled into fists and breath hitching in your nose. When it takes too long, you begin to move forward. Unbeknownst to you, Namjoon is stealing a moment to stare at you, your features, lashes, lips, how your face is cutely scrunched up. He smiles and subdues his own nervousness, fluttering his eyes closed, leaning forward. The boy tilts his head slightly to the left and he misses. Namjoon ends up at the corner of your mouth, near your cheek and when he realizes, he positions himself and finally, your lips graze. You keep your mouth sealed tight like a toddler who doesn’t want to be fed carrots. He presses against your lips lightly and you muse how plush it feels. Namjoon moves away after three seconds and you exhale, lids opening. “Like that?” “I think so. M-maybe...more though.” “More like how?” He frowns, not understanding and you stutter, unable to speak. “U-Umm…” Longer? Maybe open our mouths? Don’t they french kiss in the movies? Aren’t tongues supposed to touch or something? Or is that gross? I don’t know. Luckily for you, nothing needs to be said. Namjoon can read your chaotic thoughts and he goes ahead, trying one more time. He goes slowly enough that it gives you enough time to close your eyes again and he presses against your mouth, a bit harder and for longer. This time, it’s not just a graze. His nose bumps into yours and you help him by tilting your own head. It’s soft, Namjoon landing multiple pecks on your lips as if he’s trying to kiss a boo-boo away. It tastes like moisturizing chapstick, waxy and a hint of vanilla. You finally breathe once you can’t hold your breath any longer. In the meanwhile, his hands come up to gingerly hold your cheeks, palms cupping your skin, keeping you in place. You feel your body begin to relax, muscles no longer seizing and you settle more into his lap, feeling something weird poke at you from underneath. You’re unable to pinpoint it when he pulls away. “Better?” “Y-Yeah…..that was better. I think….we should try again…just to make sure we got it right.” “Yeah...okay...alright.” It’s more intimate than you expected. You never imagined being this close to Namjoon to the point where you can feel his own body heat, have his warm breath tickle your skin, count his lashes, see the crevices of his dimples. But you don’t get to dwell at how awkward this all is when he goes in for a third round. This time, your lips are parted and his are too. It’s less tense and uncomfortable and the boy has gained more confidence, tiling his head at a better angle. He kisses you, locking your mouths together and as you exhale, he inhales. You don’t realize your hands have lifted to the back of his neck and how he’s pulled you closer onto his lap. Namjoon pushes harder. It’s sloppy, but also eager and more curious. His tongue prods at the seams of your lips and it draws a noise at the back of your throat. He hums back, vibrations pleasant. It’s warm, slobbery and wet with spit. With the two of you inexperienced, you’re sure this isn’t exactly right. It’s weird. But also not bad. He breaks away after a minute or so and you use the back of your hand to wipe your mouth that’s wet with his saliva. Namjoon takes one look at you, reads your thoughts and smiles, glad that it wasn’t too atrocious. “W-what now?” “I mean….do you wanna take off your clothes?” “Uhhh…..” “We don’t have to. I mean….we only need to take off our pants and underwear. I’m fine with anything if you’re fine with anything. W-we can stop if you want. N-no pressure.” “Um….I’m fine with taking off our pants.” And our underwear. “Got it.” Namjoon stands, fumbling with his pants, hands trembling, and you look away, slipping off your own before deciding to just go for it and taking off your panties with it. You’re surprisingly slick, crotch area of your underwear ruined and you push it off your bed to deal with later. “I got some stuff.” He digs into his backpack, coming out with three condoms and a bottle of aloe vera gel. You eye it and he explains, “It’s supposed to be a lubricant...so you don’t get hurt…” “Can that go up my….coochie?” The last thing you want is to get an infection because of some boy or worse, go to the ER. You wouldn’t know how to explain that to your parents. “Don’t worry. I googled it.” “You’re prepared, Kim,” you banter, making for a more light-hearted atmosphere. He grins and you keep your eyes trained on his, refusing to look down to his pants-less legs and crotch area. But he knows what you’re doing and becomes insecure by your refusal to look, cheeks becoming warm. “You don’t have to be scared. It won’t hurt you or anything. Do...you want to try touching it?” For fear of creating a misunderstanding, you brace yourself and look down. Namjoon’s cock is completely hard, red and somewhat curved, a clear liquid oozing from the tip. It looks like a deformed sausage for lack of a better term, but also not so much. While it’s not the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen, it’s an intimidating, good five inches. “S-sure.” Your hand reaches out, circling around his member lightly. It’s not as hard as you thought it would be, skin kind of soft and fleshy. He laughs, asking you what you imagined it to be like and you shrug. Curious, you try giving it a squeeze and immediately, Namjoon tenses. You look up at him, gauging his reaction. “Does that feel good?” “Uh-huh.” He nods, releasing a held breath. Suddenly, you feel a surge of power ricocheting through your veins. His prized possession was in your hands. You have the ability to bring him to pleasure or make him suffer. The ideas swirling inside your head makes him swat your hand away, a bit scared. You grin at him, stifling back a laugh without knowing just how you were riling him up. Namjoon tries to calm himself down before he busts all over his legs, standing in the middle of your room. Luckily, his dick is not as obscene as other dicks are in porn videos. And you don’t feel disgusted, per say. You just don’t know how that’s supposed to go inside of you. There’s no way. “It’s not that big. Average actually. It’ll probably fit,” he reassures you. “Ummm….you can lay back if you want.” “Okay.” You feel comfortable enough around Namjoon to get on your back, head plopping down on your pillow and your hands gathered at your stomach like you’re about to be lowered into your grave — something you’re pretty sure is not off the mark. Namjoon makes no comment on your metaphor, grabbing the bottle and condoms and climbing onto your bed, sitting back on his knees. “D-do you want me to….do o-oral on you?” The thought of his mouth on your private parts makes you flinch, worried about a hundred different things, if you smell bad, if you’ll taste bad. The onslaught of concerns makes him blink hard, caught off guard. “I don’t have to. I don’t mind...about anything, so you don’t have to worry.” “Maybe later,” you mutter and he nods. “Then should we…?” “Yeah. Go for it.” This was unlike all your fantasies — this was very real. You were beginning to get super nervous, more so than before. And Namjoon doesn’t seem as composed as he makes himself out to be. He nearly drops the bottle of aloe vera, but manages to get it open and squeezes a generous amount on his hands. “Can I—” “Sure. Go ahead. You’re going to have to eventually touch it, right?” you laugh stiffly, trying to play it off and he nods. Namjoon shuffles forward, swallowing hard. His other hand gently touches your propped up leg and slowly, he spreads your thighs. He seems to stop for a moment, staring at your pussy and you feel an urge to cover your face up with your hands. The boy says nothing and simply begins to rub the lubricant all over your folds. You jolt at the foreign sensation, of someone’s hands on your body, and he instantly stops. “It’s cold.” “Oh. Umm..” “It’s fine. Just keep going.” “Yeah, okay.” Namjoon squeezes the bottle again, getting a handful and he rubs his cock up and down, body shivering as he does so. He halts after two strokes and returns to dumping half of the aloe vera into his hands. You shiver as his fingers touch against your slit, how he rubs up and down, everywhere he can get his hands to. It makes you feel hot inside and out. But he puts so much on that it’s beginning to feel more like he’s trying to frost a cake than touch you. “That’s...a lot, Namjoon.” “I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he insists in concern and makes sure to get the aloe all over your pussy to the point where you don’t even need your own slickness, pink slit covered with a thick layer of transparent gel. “Okay, I think that’s good.” “Wait. Don’t you need to put on your condom?” “R-right, almost forgot about that.” “That’s a really important step,” you giggle and watch as he fumbles with the condom package. Ten seconds and he still can’t rip it open. It’s excruciating, so you prop yourself up by your elbows, taking it from him. “Sorry. It’s the aloe. It made my hands really sticky.” “It’s okay.” You hold yourself back from laughing, but it spills past and he begins laughing too, running a hand through his hair and accidentally getting gel in it. It makes you laugh harder and you finally get the package open. “Wait, aren’t we supposed to roll it on?” “I think so.” “Do you know how to put on a condom?” “No. Do you?” “How would I know?” “Well, I don’t.” You try to help him roll the condom onto his cock. With Namjoon’s sticky hands and your inexperience, it’s an absolute mess. The pair of you are gathered together, fumbling with his dick, trying to get it on like you’re attempting to make balloon animals. “Wait, let me pinch it. I don’t want you to accidentally pinch my foreskin!” You burst out into laughter and he laughs too. “Oh my god! I’m not going to pinch your foreskin!” “We never know what could happen!” he argues back lightheartedly and manages. “There.” But before Namjoon crawls over, he dumps the rest of the bottle of aloe onto his condom, dousing it from the tip to where his hair is like it’s free fondue. Lo and behold, after twenty minutes of poorly attempted foreplay and a lot of lubricant-applying, he’s finally between your thighs, positioning himself….or at least trying to. You lift your head slightly to look at him. “Maybe we should stop and go watch a tutorial.” “No, it’s fine. It’s just...a lot lower than I expected.” “Where did you think it was going to be?” “I don’t know. Higher up. Here, I think I got it.” “Wrong hole, Namjoon!” you shriek and he stops, apologizing a thousand times. This was going horrifically, but also extremely hilariously. You have mixed feelings in general, but your thoughts begin to quiet down when he finds your hole, spreading your folds enough that his single finger can enter. You shiver, feeling weirded out by it. It was more like an examination than anything sexual, but you don’t dwell. “Okay….I think I got the tip in place. Ready?” You nod. “Go for it.” It’s slippery, so much lubricant that you his cock brushes back and forth until it finds its place and you barely feel any rough intrusion. Instead, it slides in smoothly and you inhale a sharp breath, flinching upwards. It’s a strange discomfort in your gut. It burns and feels like someone stuck a medical instrument into your intestines. Huh. Namjoon, on the other hand, is having a very different experience. He’s shaking above you, eyes shut tight, unable to read your mind when he’s beginning to break into a sweat. He stops halfway and forces himself to look at you. “D-does it hurt?” “N-not really. Kind of uncomfortable.” “Want me to stop?” “No, it’s okay. You can keep going.” “F-fuck,” he curses and obliges, moving all the way in until he’s balls deep and your knees are bent, thighs parted by his sticky hands. It’s weird, but you’re glad he’s having a good time. “I don’t think I’m going to last long. You’re so warm and t-tight…” “It’s okay. Knock yourself out.” “You sure it doesn’t hurt?” “I’m good. You dumped that bottle on me, so...yeah…” Namjoon nods, unable to get anything out but a groan when you squeeze around him. He chokes on air and at your approval, goes in for a thrust. He moves his hips back and then yanks forward, eager and excited. It burns and you flinch, not sure if it hurts or doesn’t. This isn’t as amazing as you thought it would be — quite un-life changing actually. If anything, you were more turned on by how much Namjoon was turned on. You just wish he kissed you again. You liked that. The second the thought crosses your brain, Namjoon leans forward, seizing your lips with his own and fulfilling your desire. You moan against his mouth, tongue taken by his in a sloppy yet earnest matter that has your belly tickling and fluttering, chest warming up. It feels nice, you decide. And your core clenches, lower stomach tightening. Namjoon chases after the way your warm pussy tightly hugs around his covered cock, thrusting once and he cums without warning. He merely groans against your mouth and you hug him close to your body, feeling the way he breathes heavily, the way he moans lowly. It takes a good five seconds and then he’s slumping over your body, weight heavy but comforting like a blanket. “S-sorry…” Namjoon apologizes the second he comes to his senses. His breath tickles your neck and you smile, running your hand through his hair. “It’s okay. I’m glad you had a good time. It wasn’t too bad for me.” Namjoon rolls over, slipping out of you. But before you can get up or he can clean up the mess he made, his hand lowers to your swollen cunt and he slides his pointer and middle finger in the pool of gel. He strokes up your slit a few times and then he slips himself into your tight hole, feeling against your velvet walls. “N-Namjoon,” you choke out his name and he smiles, getting to his knees. He curls his fingers against your walls, a bit carelessly and clumsy, but with enough enthusiasm and observational skills to gauge what your spots may be. You moan, withering against the sheets. “W-wait…” His other hand lifts and goes a bit higher than your slit. “Is it here…?” he asks for confirmation, recalling the diagrams he’s filled out before and watching your expression carefully. Your fingers latch onto his wrist and you shift him into the correct position, right where your clitoris should be. Namjoon hums in acknowledgment and begins to fiddle with his fingers, rubbing circles, pressing hard, twisting his wrist while his other fingers curl inside your vagina. You sob his name, back arching, and he muses how pretty you look like this. Unfortunately with his hands on your clit and the way he’s carelessly rubbing, he’s unable to admire the view for long. Your toes curl and a burst of electricity runs its way through your body, making you seize, left leg kicking out slightly. You cry, spots coming into your vision. It’s warm from your feet to your head, every part of your body. When you come to, Namjoon’s excitedly grinning at you. “How was that?” Not bad. That last bit was better, to be honest. “Was it all you had fantasies about?” No. It wasn’t terrible though. Kind of meh. He nods, laying flat on your bed and staring at the ceiling. You also take a moment to process everything that just happened. Though before you can doze off, Namjoon looks at you. “Should we try one more time? Just….just to see if it could be better or not. I mean...might as well since we’re both here.” It’s not a bad offer especially considering that this is supposed to be a one time thing to get it out of the system. He was right — you were here, so was he. There was never going to be an opportunity like this again. You should make the most out of it. You smile, eyes glimmering in mischief. “I don’t mind, but can you go for another round? You really tired yourself out there.” Namjoon scoffs and rolls on top of you, pinning you to your mattress. “We’ll see about that.”

That should be it. You know Namjoon can read minds. He knows you’re a closeted freak. A secret for a secret. The two of you have had sex too, shared your first times together. You’ve gotten all urges out of your systems, diminished your whacky libido. There’s no reason for any more interaction or conversations to be exchanged. You can both lead your own separate lives, pursuing after your long-term educational goals of going to university… But you’re weak. Only now do you realize you can’t get over your primitive needs. To your dismay and contrasting to the way you project yourself, you aren’t an emotionless robot who can simply flip off the switch. That single experience, the second and third as well, are enough to make you even more needy than before and now your fantasies have truly come to life. No longer are they groundless delusions created from your inexperienced mind. One taste of the forbidden fruit and you can’t stop. Sitting on the side of health class, your brain begins to take a walk. You recall that third time when Namjoon was curious, experimenting, and pushed you on all fours. Your shirt and bra were discarded beside you, your hands crumpling your wrinkled sheets and his fingertips pressed the small of your back until you were arching for him. He hummed and you were nervous, talking too much about things you don’t remember now and the boy simply laid down and got into place. He slid himself right underneath you and his hands held your waist, lowering your sex right onto his open mouth like he’s trying to eat a massive taco — inexperienced, odd, but not horrendous. You were scared of suffocating him, of having to call the police and having ambulances parked right outside your house for all the neighbors to see; and have news spread around that you accidentally killed a high school boy by sitting on his face. But Namjoon was a freak in disguise too and welcomed it. You sat on him and he mumbled something along the lines of it not being too bad either. You grabbed onto the headboard to steady yourself, legs already shaking as he licked into you, tip of his tongue pushing past your slit and folds, his nose at your bud. His tongue unskilled, technique clumsy. He went too fast, too hard, too much of everything. It drove whines and broken sobs of his name out of you. But while Namjoon was greedy and impatient, he was also excited and eager to please. He’s naturally observant and perceptive, bringing it into the bedroom as well. You remember the strands of his hair tickling the skin of your thighs, the way you cried out his name, how it felt so good that it was better than having actual penetrative sex. And you remember how he began rushing, afraid of your dad coming home and catching the pair of you in this compromised position. The memory almost makes you giggle in the middle of class, but you contain yourself and squeeze your thighs together, feeling your panties becoming wet and sticky. You wonder what it would be like if he ate you out here, in class, maybe on the teacher’s desk. He’d kneel on the ground and kiss his way up your legs. N-Namjoon, you’d choke out his name, grabbing a fistful of his hair and pulling the glasses away from his face. Yeah? Hurry, please. Why? I wanna go slower. You taste good. You’re good at controlling your expressions, of wearing a poker face, but unbeknownst to you, there’s a smile tugging on your lips. An outsider might think you particularly enjoy today’s class content. Others who know you better might consider that you’re in a good mood, perhaps daydreaming about something sweet. But there’s someone who really knows what’s going on. Namjoon is sitting across the room and he turns his body slightly. His eyes are half-lidded, lips parted, chest rising and falling, glasses slipping down his nose. The boy is uncomfortable, beginning to sweat at his hairline. He glares. And your smile grows a bit wider. He knows you’re thinking about you and him and you eye his slacks, noticing the tent growing in his pants. Namjoon remains wholly unimpressed by your antics. “The boy’s bathroom, really?” Your eyebrows are lifted and this time, you’re the one unimpressed with him. Luckily the hallways are empty, but he still tugs you in quickly before anyone can see. Are we fulfilling one of your fantasies now? “No, we’re not. And if you want someone to blame, then blame yourself.” Namjoon shoves you into the farthest bathroom stall without remorse. If you were caught together with him in the boy’s washroom, you’re not even sure how to explain yourself. No one would believe it. “Who told you to go remembering all of that and thinking about us?” He turns around and locks the stall. It’s terribly cramped. On one side, there’s toilet rolls and the other is a wall with pencil graffiti. The toilet doesn’t have a cover and it’s dirty. But at this point, the two of you are reckless and desperate enough not to care. “Well am I supposed to forget?” “You’re supposed to not fantasize in the middle of class, Y/N,” he complains and turns you around, pushing his crotch to your ass. Your hands lift to press against the cubicle walls, keeping yourself steady. “Look at the problem you caused me.” You can feel his erect cock right on the crack of your ass and you swallow hard, feeling his breath becoming rougher. Namjoon presses you close to him like it might be enough to get him off. “‘M sorry, I can’t help it, you know that.” “Jinyoung almost saw. I had to cover my lap up with my textbook.” He’s mad and you can hear it in his voice. His hand comes down, fingers pressing on your underwear, rubbing back and forth ruthlessly. “And look, you’re already wet.” “Namjoon,” you moan his name, grabbing his wrist and not sure if you want him to slow down or go faster. “L-Less talking. We should hurry before they wonder where we are.” “No one’s going to wonder.” It’s true no one would second guess the two empty desks in the classroom. The pair of you went out at different times — you supposedly to the counselor and him to go make a phone call at the office. As if to appease you, Namjoon holds the back of your neck and turns your head around. His thick-rimmed, smudged glasses knock against your face but he still kisses your cheek. You don’t know if he missed your mouth or not, if it was an accident, but it’s surprisingly soft and gentle. It sends butterflies to your tummy. The eager boy is hugging you from behind, one arm around your waist. He pulls your shirt out being tucked into your skirt and his hand goes underneath it, shoving your bra up and getting a handful of your breast. His thumb flicks onto your nipple, letting the soft bud pebble underneath his tender touch. You keen into him with a whine and he holds you straight, humming. “You’re so warm and soft. I keep forgetting to tell you that.” “You’re not going to cum just from touching my boobs, are you?” He scoffs and rubs two fingers against your nipples harder, almost pinching. And you jump in his arms with a yelp. Namjoon smiles. “I’m not some amateur.” “Actually, yes, you are.” Your hot breaths are heavy, panting out and your palms press harder against the cubicle wall, searching for some leverage. “If it helps, I am too.” “Psh. I’m gonna fuck you well, don’t worry.” You could roll your eyes to the back of your skull. “That’s a really high bar to set— N-Namjoon!” He’s pressing hard on your clit through your soaked panties, shoving your skirt up. “Pardon?” “N-nothing.” You turn your head around, trying to speed things up. Sneaking out to the boy’s bathroom in the middle of the classroom is not an optimum time to drag out foreplay. “You have a condom, right?” “I’m always prepared.” Namjoon smirks playfully and lets go of you, stepping back to dig into his back pocket. You realize how cold it is without his body heat against you, but thankfully he wastes no time, taking out a condom between his index and middle fingers, flashing it to you like it’s a winning card in a poker game or this is the middle of a Yugioh episode. He does the stupidest things like this that makes you laugh the hardest. “Why are you such a dork?” “Please, you like it.” You watch him rip it open. “Need help?” “I got it.” It’s quicker and easier than the first time, and the second, and the third. He lets his pants drop, rolling the latex on his cock and then helps you take off your panties, stuffing them in his uniform blazer’s pocket. Namjoon takes a hold of your hips and positions you correctly. He moves the tip of his thick cock back and forth on your slit, spreading your slick everywhere and you feel yourself getting wetter. “A-are you going to last longer this time?” Namjoon’s offended and he pouts without you seeing. “I’m getting better. Ready?” “Yeah.” The head of his cock intrudes your velvet walls, penetrating deep and he releases a shaky exhale. It burns less and feels good, filling a space inside you that you didn’t know was empty. The first time, it wasn’t bad. The second time hurt a lot and you both had to stop. No one orgasmed then. But the third time was much better and now, there was not even a mild discomfort. It didn’t hurt at all — he’s stretched you out well enough to take his cock. And he can last a lot longer than three strokes too. “N-Namjo..oon.” “Everything good?” “Yeah…” You weakly nod. He’s holding you, humping from behind, drawing as far back as he can before his hips jut forward, trusting in and you try your best to meet him halfway. The two of you are making a mess, fluids running down your legs, uniforms all wrinkled up. “C-Can you kiss me?” You don’t need to ask twice. He stops and turns your head around, catching your lips as best as he can in this awkward position. You begin to squirm, rocking yourself back onto him. One thing was certain — the kisses have definitely improved. The way he kisses you is enough to leave you breathless and dizzy. You pull away and Namjoon continues to pound from behind you. The obscene sounds echo throughout the washroom, leaking out into the hallway; clapping sounds created when his pelvis meets your ass cheeks. Anyone walking past would know what was going on. It’s also musty, the smell of sweat and sex filling the air. But there’s also the scent of Namjoon surrounding you and it’s nice. You’re not sure what deodorant he uses, or maybe it’s cologne. You can’t exactly pinpoint it. “H-hey…” The boy slows down the pace, remembering something. “What?” “Can you stop envisioning my voice and imagining what I’d say? It’s awkward to hear what my voice sounds like to you in your head.” He rolls his hips slowly, going deeper with the languid speed and it has you crumbling. “N-Nam...joon...s-stop talking. F-faster.” “Why? I wanna go slower. You taste so good,” he whispers, making fun of you and recalling the cheesy dialogue you came up with in your daydream. “F-fuck you.” He laughs, sound gentle and tinkling. Namjoon kisses the back of your neck, right on the nape and he licks his thumb before tenderly rubbing at your clit. Against your will, loud noises spill from your throat and it has him shushing you. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, entire body jostling with how he goes faster. You’re scared of someone coming in — but the risk is exciting at the same time. Namjoon can read your thoughts and he gets off on your fantasies too. You imagine what it would be like if the bell rang, if a bunch of kinds came in, pissing in the urinals, washing their hands at the sink, talking and goofing off. They wouldn’t know what was going on behind the thin wall of the cubical except that there were two pairs of feet right by each other. “Nam...too-...too much...” He’s rubbing too hard at your clit, forgetting to measure his strength, overexcited with your imagination and it’s too late. The tension in your lower stomach finally tightens and snaps. Your toes curl and you sob his name louder. He cups your mouth with his hand, muffling your shriek. Your eyes shut tight and you clench around him. The boy groans lowly, sound vibrating and you hear mumbles of your name. His chin is propped on your shoulder and he thrusts twice, sloppy, milking your orgasm and he cums too. Namjoon is still hugging you close as you both catch your breath. Eventually he slips himself out and lets go. You turn around. “That was….better than last time.” He grins, dimples marking his cheek, strands of his hair sweaty. He slips off his condom. “Next time will be even better.” Next time? You’re fixing your bra and shirt, pulling your skirt down again, but the thought in your head is loud and clear. Namjoon doesn’t say anything. Maybe he pretends not to know and you don’t comment either, afraid of questioning how many more times this will happen, afraid of defining what exactly this arrangement is. “We should get back before they actually start wondering where we are.” “Yeah.” You flatten down your messy hair, getting your panties back from him despite them being soiled. As you put them back on with a grimace, you watch Namjoon throw the used condom in the toilet. You don’t think twice as he tugs up his slacks. But then it hits you. “W-wait, don’t flush it down the—” The toilet whirls down automatically. “Shit, too late!” The pair of you are frozen, watching the destruction happen right in front of your eyes. It doesn’t flush all the way down and seems to burp back. The water runs without once stopping. It starts to overflow. “Oh my god.” There’s no choice, but to run. // The chain of things that occur after your little rendezvous with Namjoon would be cause for embarrassment, if only you weren’t so shameless now. It may be because you’ve gotten comfortable enough with him, with sex acts, and because you know he’s equally responsible for everything that happens. As long as nobody else knows and it’s just between you and him, there’s no need to be ashamed. It’s a secret that the two of you share. “Everyone, listen up.” The health teacher, Mr. Bang, claps his hands at the front of class, quieting down the conversations of students. “On Friday afternoon, there was an incident here at this school.” “What happened?” There’s a sea of murmurs that ripples throughout the room and your ears perk, picking up on the girls next to you. “Didn’t you hear? Someone flushed down a used condom in the boys washroom by the science hall that clogged the toilet. It flooded the entire washroom and they had to shut it down for the rest of the day.” “Ew, gross.” “Wait, does that mean someone had sex in the washroom? Ugh!” “Quiet down, quiet down.” The teacher slaps a stack of papers on the desk, gathering the attention back. “There will be consequences for students who engage in anything inappropriate at school. Okay? I just want to make that clear. It’s completely inappropriate and there’s possibility for suspension. We already know who these people are, alright?” For a moment, he eyes Hoseok and Krystal sitting at the side, near the middle rows. Some glance at them too in disdain and disgust. Hoseok finally looks up, snapping back to attention. “Wait, what?” Mr. Bang clears his throat and moves on. “In light of what happened, the superintendent wanted me to review some things we learnt earlier in this course.” There’s a collective groan, but he shuts it down by saying this is what happens when something like that at school occurs. He begins to write it on the board, marker squeaking on the smooth surface. He’s returning back to the sex-ed unit. “Look, I get it, alright? You’re at that age where you went to begin getting closer to people and you want to start experimenting with things. But if you don’t want to get pregnant and birth out a baby that you have to take care of for the next eighteen years, do not have sex.” The students roll their eyes, leaning back on their seat. Few are still alert, most zoning and tuning out. It’s the same thing over and over again, teachers parroting each other, as afraid of kids becoming sexually active as they are of ghosts. “If you don’t want any horrible STIs to follow you around for the rest of your life, do not have sexual intercourse. You don’t know if any of these people have gotten tested! They could have anything. Protection like condoms and birth control are not one hundred percent effective. There’s always a chance it could happen. The best protection is to not do it at all. Don’t risk disease—” You’re one of the many that have stopped paying attention. Actually, your awareness of the classroom has long been removed. The words going in one ear and out the other. Instead, you’re busy sitting next to Namjoon, stealing peeks at him. You’re thinking about getting on the floor, crawling under his desk, fumbling with his pants. What are you doing? Making you feel good. You envision unzipping his trousers, pulling out his cock excitedly, spitting in your palm to stroke him. He’d become harder in your hand, redder, and you’d lean close to kiss the top, relishing in it when you feel him shiver. Namjoon would tangle his fingers in your hair and tug you closer. You wouldn’t know what to do, how to do it, but he’d teach you, guiding your mouth on him. You’d try your best to take him as far as you can go, salivating and slobbering all over his dick. It would hurt your jaw and you’d gag, choke, but the effort would be worth it when he praises you. You glance over at Namjoon in reality, finding him shifting uncomfortably, ears bright pink. A smirk pulls into your cheek. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Namjoon? He turns his head towards you, expression impassive. But you catch his Adam’s apple bobbing and he doesn’t say anything, simply nodding. He no longer protests your active imagination. While it’s still a massive distraction to his concentration, he reads your mind promptly and willingly. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger and you love every second of it. “Excuse me, Mr. Bang?” You approach the health teacher with Namjoon behind you, backpacks on your shoulders, stack of textbooks in your arms. The older man lifts his chin. “Oh! Y/N, Namjoon! What can I do for you?” “We finished filling out the diagrams.” You hand in the sheets of paper of the vagina and penis, perfectly labeled with a small description underneath them. Apparently, this is what the school system thinks is sexual education. “We were wondering if we could go to the library to study for the upcoming physics test.” He nods. “Did you finish everything else for this class?” “Yes.” You smile. “We both did.” The teacher returns your smile. “Go ahead then, just make sure you’ve double-checked everything.” “Thank you.” The two of you leave the classroom quietly, the other students still causing a ruckus for him. The door shuts and you happily skip down the hall while Namjoon trails after you, laughing. The teachers think you’re both very responsible, studious students — goody two shoes and maybe academic friends at best. No one would ever suspect and that makes it all the more fun to break the rules. But while you’re happy keeping these secrets between the pair of you, it’s a shame that no one else knows how attractive Namjoon is. It’s one secret you don’t want to keep to yourself. You wish more people saw what you did. How his awkwardness is actually sweetness and makes him all the more authentic, how his clumsiness is cute, how smart and warm-hearted he is. As he shadows your steps, your thoughts have Namjoon blushing in a deeper shade. He stares at the back of your head, feeling tingles in his chest, unable to resist a grin when you think about how you at least get him all to yourself. The librarian welcomes you, busy stacking and registering new shipment of books in the back closet. This early in the morning, there aren’t any students. You’re free to pick and choose wherever you want to go, but without hesitation you walk to the farthest table hidden behind multiple bookshelves. You both drop off your belongings there and scatter off to the corner. He takes your hand and leads you forward, weaving through the maze of shelves in the back where no one else can see. It’s deathly quiet, enough to hear pins dropping. But in this small space, the noise of soft smacking disrupts the peace. Namjoon kisses you roughly and desperately like he’s trying to get himself off with just this. His tongue is down your throat, his spit entering your mouth. It makes you hot and bothered, Namjoon trying to make you as aroused as you’ve made him. You’ve gotten him riled up after all. It’s revenge. The boy’s glasses knock against your face, but neither of you care enough. His kisses have made you dizzy. “N-Namjoon,” you gasp, pushed against the corner where the shelf meets the smooth wall. He lifts one of your legs, palm pressed against the meat of your thigh. It’s done with urgency, less playful, less talking and more serious and intimate than before. Your eyes stray off, peeking through the shelves and gaps between the books, finding no one watching. Suddenly, he pushes deeper into you, silencing your brain until you think of him and only him. You’re surrounded in his scent, deodorant, cologne, natural sweat. His hands are all over you, tender touches and eager groping with attempted restraint that fails. His broad body shields you away from any potential prying eyes, covering you from head to toe. He tastes like chapstick and you relish in the gentle sounds drawing out of him, grunts and moans, caught in a trance. Namjoon kisses you closer, deeper until you’re overwhelmed. He only pulls away when you whimper. A thin line of saliva catches between your lips, glistening in the light. But you don’t notice when he’s gazing at you in such a way, endeared. You swallow hard, feeling small under his intense eyes. It’s only in reading these thoughts that Namjoon ends up turning away. “We should…” Wait. What? You’re confused and impulsively, you grab onto him, tugging his sleeve. “Are we not going to….?” He grins, dimples creasing on either side of his cheek before he pushes his glasses up casually. “We almost got caught last time.” “No.” The syllable draws out into an unintentional whine. “It’s because you flushed it down the toilet. Who told you to do that?” He laughs, sound tinkling in your ears pleasantly. “You’re so needy.” But Namjoon returns anyhow, holding you and pushing your panties to the side. His fingers play at your slit, tapping gently like he’s fiddling with piano keys. It makes you jolt and he nuzzles into you, knocking his head down, forehead pressed against your shoulder. “C-Can you blame me?” It feels too good. You wish he could touch you all the time. Namjoon reads your mind and smiles softly without you knowing. He mumbles into your shirt, “You’re so cute.” Such a wholesome comment shouldn’t be spoken when the tips of his fingers are spreading your folds and he’s entering you. With two digits, he sinks deep into your leaking cunt until he’s knuckle deep. Namjoon has the audacity to laugh as you choke on air and in retaliation, you weakly hit your fist against his shoulder. He’s amused at how sensitive you still are even after doing it so many times, to the point where you’ve both lost count. “We’re in the library, so keep it down will you?” “Then stop doing that.” “Doing what?” He curls his fingers against your velvet walls, hitting a spot that has you sobbing and pathetically trying to hold back. “You mean that?” He’s being a sly shit, gained too much confidence touching you — but you don’t hate it. He scissors you, thrusting his fingers in and out, twisting his wrist. You knock your head back. If the librarian finds Namjoon fondling you like this with his hand shoved up your skirt, your panties moved to the side, she would be mortified, maybe even getting a heart attack. “You really like thinking about people catching us, huh?” “N-no….” Your objection is weak and he grins. “D-do you want me to...blow you?” He hums, considering it, but the way the member in his pants stir and how he swallows hard is unmistakable. “N-no, I’m good.” His rejection surprises you. You thought any horny teenage boy would jump at the chance. Your fantasies seemed to make him riled up too. “Maybe later, in my room, if you’re okay with that,” he clarifies your confusion as he pets your velvet walls, feeling around like he’s searching for something. It makes your legs tremble. You nod and decide to tease, “You think you’re not gonna last if we do it here?” Namjoon scoffs. “No. It’s gonna take a long time to teach you.” “I’m a fast learner,” you counter. “I know. But I kind of...want you to sit on my face again….if you want….” He’s nervous for the first time in a long while. You piece it together, brows lifting. You want me to blow you while sitting on your face? So like sixty nine? He becomes red in the face, fingers inside of you halting. “Is that bad?” No. Just predictable. Namjoon lightly scoffs, but if you were frank, the plans made you enthusiastic and he knows it too. The boy kisses you, squeezing a handful of your breasts over your uniform blouse, becoming more patient. But you make him pick up the speed and he gets out his condom that he seems to have on hand now twenty-four seven. Both your legs end up wrapping around his waist and while you’re scared of falling or snapping him in half, he holds your weight well while you’re leaning against the wall. He continues to rut against you, thrusting as fast as he can manage. With his thick girth stretching you out so nicely, you squeeze around him, enjoying it when you can make him sputter. After the third time, he’s had enough of your antics and kisses you, deeper, muffling your noises. Books knock against the shelf, several almost falling. Your wetness might just drip down and stain the carpet, leaving your mark with Namjoon’s. The two of you are sweaty against each other, getting closer to your release. “H-Hey….” “Hmm?” “Keep your eyes on me.” You nod, trying your best. But Namjoon can’t hold you up anymore. As his strokes become sloppier, one of your left leg falls when you’re not ready. Your knees buckle and he slips out of you, but luckily, Namjoon catches you in his arms and the both of you burst out laughing. You lean against the wall, he gets himself back in you and you both return to what you were doing before. Namjoon stares at your expression and you lock your eyes into his. He fucks you like he likes you. Finally, his hand moves to rub your clit with his thumb. It’s enough for you to be pushed over the edge and you stifle your sounds against his shoulder, slobbering on his uniform blazer. You clench, hot walls of velvet like a vice grip, clenching around his length. He groans and moves twice before cumming. After a moment of hugging you, he pulls himself out and pushes your panties back to hold in the mess you made. “Don’t throw the condom in the corner,” you chide. Namjoon breathlessly laughs. “What? I was going to put my kids in between the dictionaries for someone to find later.” You weakly hit him, giggling together.

It’s a sunny day, the weather nice and pleasant, warm enough that you don’t need a jacket. With your stomach full of food, you couldn’t be any happier. And your joy is found in the way your steps have a slight skip to them. Namjoon smiles, watching you and matching his walking pace with yours. The pair of you had grabbed a meal together at a fast food restaurant. A reward for doing so well on your biology midterm. While the teacher didn’t announce who did the best, she read the top two marks out loud and they happened to be you and him. You got ninety-five percent while Namjoon scored ninety. The fact that you miraculously did better than him in a subject that you despise has you even more bubbly. The food wasn’t much, but you liked it. Actually, what you really like is being around Namjoon, even if it’s not for sex, even if it’s to do whatever. These thoughts have him grinning. But you don’t notice. “—wanted to die, oh my god.” “I didn’t know she would be there!” he argues back, but the two of you aren’t fighting. It’s humorous banter, created from mortification and disbelief. “What if she found me, some random chick, in her kitchen giving her son a blowjob?! Oh my god.” “You’re not some ‘random chick’. She knows who you are.” He shrugs. “Plus, you like people watching so…” “I do not!” “You know I can read your mind, right?” “Stop!” You hate it. “Get out!” Namjoon laughs. “What I’m saying is that it’s fine. She didn’t find us like that. And if it helps, she actually likes you.” “Well, I hope it was worth it, because now she probably thinks I’m your girlfriend.” The entire time, you ended up talking to Namjoon’s mom and answering her numerous questions like it was a job interview instead of doing the deed. The boy smiles. “I don’t mind.” “What? That I didn’t get to blow you or that your mom thinks we’re together?” “Did you end up looking at what university you wanted to go to yet?” “Oh yeah. I was looking into the admission requirements.” The topic is switched so drastically, but you don’t even notice when it comes to your studies. You and Namjoon made a pact to help each other get into university and it was comforting to have someone help along the way. “Apparently, the math program at MK National isn’t bad. I’ve already done some research onto some profs to take and what GPA boosters there are.” Namjoon laughs. “Wow, so prepared.” “Of course,” you hum back before remembering something, “Don’t take economics, by the way. It’s not as easy as people make it out to be apparently.” “Noted.” The corners of his mouth quirk. “Haseul’s thinking about going into nursing..” She’s one of the few friends that you have. “...so that’s more incentive to me.” Plus, he’s there too. Namjoon reads your mind and grins to himself, downcast head facing his feet shyly. “So you’ve decided on MK National then?” “I don’t know. I’m aiming for it, I guess, but if I don’t get in then I don’t.” “You’ll get in,” the boy reassures. “You’re smarter than I am.” His confidence in you draws a sheepish smile on your face. The two of you are strolling to the bus stop together and while you’ll have to get onto different buses, it’s still nice to traipse around with him like this. At least, that’s what you’re mulling until your daydream is broken by the back of his hand grazing against yours. You glance down before looking away. For the first time in a long time, you’re nervous again. There’s an urge within you to hold his hand, an instinct that tells you that’s the only right way to walk alongside Namjoon. But that’s kind of weird — you don’t know if you should, if that would make things awkward. In fact, you don’t even know what the limits are when you’re unsure of what your relationship with Namjoon is in the first place, friends with benefits or— You’re thinking about it for too long. You’re making Namjoon get a headache. So gingerly, he reaches over while nonchalantly looking ahead, deciding for you. His fingers find your wrist and he moves his hand down, tangling your fingers together, palms clasping, gingerly holding your hand. None of you speak. You don’t like how he can read your mind. But this is one of the few times you appreciate it. His hand squeezes yours — your chest feels warm. // “Are you alright?” Why? I’m fine. Namjoon knows that you overthink. You like to consider every decision that you make, calculating the benefits and the consequences, making plans for your future. Everything is logical to you. The only reason he’s with you now is because of your rare impulse, emotions that you couldn’t handle or control on your own. He’s with you because of your fantasies and lustful daydreams stowed at the back of your brain for no one else to know of. If you controlled your urges, he wouldn’t be a part of your life right now. The realization makes him a bit uncomfortable. He was never a part of your plan, a part of what you envision for your future. For once, he’s thankful for his ability — it’s given him the opportunity to get to know you. But at the same time, he’s disheartened to know that you’ve only kept him around for a few purposes. Aside from that, you like to lie a lot too. He can read your mind. He knows your thoughts are a chaotic train on fire heading straight for hell. Yet, you like to act like it’s all fine. Like nothing’s wrong. But he knows you better than that. He can read you better than that. He knows you better than you know yourself. And Namjoon knows that despite what you might think, he’s just not just a temporary person in your life. “Namjoon!” You’re making a ruckus without being aware of it, standing on the tips of your toes, waving your arm over your head. A stupid smile pulls onto his face and he waves back. People’s heads turn. Your friends are confused and so are his. But you don’t seem to care, happier to see him than being mindful of your surroundings. He can see the way your eyes always light up when you find him in the crowd. He notices the way you like to ramble about your day to him. “—finished my paper. But I can’t believe she assigned me to edit Hoseok’s paper. He only had one paragraph done. And I couldn’t even read it! His writing doesn’t even look like chicken scratch. It’s like he wrote it while on the toilet using his toes.” Laughter bubbles up his throat. “Well, not everyone is Miss. Prepared like you are. Did he at least edit your paper?” “No.” You pout. “He gave it back and told me it was perfect.” His gaze on you softens. “It probably was.” Namjoon catches on before you even know yourself. You don’t need to say anything. He already knows how you feel about him — and this knowledge makes him more giddy than he’d ever like to admit. // For the most part, you aren’t deprived anymore. A certain someone keeps you satisfied enough to pay attention in class, tires you out enough to make you sleep well at night, placate your endless desires. But still, there are times when you’re bored or sleepy in class and you actively begin to daydream to keep yourself awake. It’s in social studies that your mind begins to wander without restraint, Namjoon not here to turn around and glare or later scold you for making him lose his concentration. You envision a faceless stranger waltzing into the classroom, boots tapping against the floor. This person would stride towards the teacher’s desk in the corner. They’d plop down on the swivel chair, lean back, spread their legs comfortably, eyes sweeping the room. You imagine their gaze would stop on you and the corner of their mouth would tug, hand motioning you to come. He’d guide you to sit on his lap, right on top of his thighs. Your hands would find purchase on his broad shoulders. After you’re settled, he would hum in satisfaction and his rough hands would be placed on the dips of your waist, plush lips skimming down your neck, kissing lightly. He’d relish in the way you’d shiver. You like that? The voice is familiar somehow, but you can’t pinpoint it. Y-yes. Please hurry… Why should I? Don’t you like it when people watch us? Look at all these kids looking. They don’t know you're such a dirty girl. Should we show them? Should we do a class demonstration and show them how it’s supposed to be done? His fingers play with the hem of your skirt, tugging it up while he fumbles with his pants, lifting you slightly and pulling down the waistband enough to slip his hardening cock out of his briefs. The way his tip leaks has you swallowing hard, remembering the salty flavour. I-I don’t like people looking, you’d protest weakly, meeting the man’s eyes. He snorts, air rushing out of his nose. You know I can read your mind, right? There’s a pause that lingers — you nearly shatter out of your daydream. What? The person you’re straddling doesn’t answer, lips returning to the sweet spot between your shoulder and neck, hot tongue lapping at it and drawing shudders out of your body. Then he sucks hard, making you cry out. His arms are around you, letting you arch but not shuffle away, pushing you close. He ends up grabbing hold of his cock, squeezing the base and lining it up with your slit. The boy doesn’t wait, shoving his hips upwards and making you sob, feeling your cunt stretch. He fucks into you raw with his red cock. He groans, thrusting upwards a few times before he holds your hips. Ride me, Y/N, he commands and forces you to sink down onto him until he’s balls deep inside of you. It’s enough to have your walls clenching around his girth, for you to moan and tremble. C’mon, you can do it, baby, he coaxes and you nod several times, trying your best. With as much strength as you can muster in your leg, you pull yourself up and drop down on him, swiveling your hips and doing what feels good. The boy helps you too, thrusts moving halfway, praises rolling off his tongue. You’re so cute, he hums, thumb harshly rubbing your nipple back and forth, his hand underneath your shirt, shoved past your bra. Pleasure takes hold, making your vision blurry, but you don’t focus on reaching an orgasm or pleasing him. Instead, something’s taken hold of your brain and while you ride him, you curl your hand into his hair, fingers tugging the strands. You pull his head back and he moans your name. His chin is lifted, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat and you narrow your eyes into his features. Who are you? The faceless person begins to morph under your touch. The fog lifts and you realize it’s not someone random, a mere placeholder of another body, in your fantasy. His hair is dark, matching the colour of his half-lidded eyes staring back at you, dimples marking into each side of his cheek. His glasses sit on his nose, framing his face, accentuating the jawline. For the first time, your imagination’s found a face. It’s— “Miss Y/N.” You come crumbling back to reality, realizing where you are. Your fantasies disperse into thin air. The teacher’s right in front of you, clearing his throat. Everyone’s eyes are on you and the middle-aged man repeats his question, “I was asking you what the branches of government are.” “Judicial, legislative and executive,” you say without missing a beat. The teacher smiles, pleased that you were paying attention even though it seemed like you weren’t. He knows you would never be distracted like some of his other students. “Very good.” He spins around on his heel. “You ought to learn a thing or two from Miss. Y/N, Jung Hoseok.” The student shoots you a glare that you wholeheartedly don’t even register. You’ve lost your train of thought, but it felt really important. For the rest of the day, you’re distracted, unable to focus on anything as you try to trace back to what your thoughts were, replaying what you last remembered. But it’s gone. You’re frustrated beyond belief, feeling out of your element, out of control. But no matter how upset you are at forgetting, there’s no point in moping over lost thoughts. That is until you sleep. It’s at night, laying in your bed, deep in slumber that it all returns. Except this time, your subconscious has conjured something that isn’t sexual in the least bit. You dream of calling out to someone, of watching them catch up to you, how you hold their hand, entwining your fingers together with them without hesitation. It’s oddly intimate. You dream about a strappy, tall boy with gawky glasses and plaid flannels. You dream about soft touches, tender kisses, dimples and doting gazes. In a shock, much like a nightmare — you jolt awake in the middle of the night. You finally know who it is. // “Hey, can I come over today?” you ask in the hall, holding your books to your chest. The tall boy with his gawky glasses takes one good look at you and smiles. “No. I’m hanging out with Jinyoung today.” “Oh.” You turn away, only to steal another glance of him. “Can we….go to the library then?” “Why?” The boy plays dumb, like he can’t read your mind in a split of a second. “C-Cause….you know….” You’re not trying to play coy on purpose, but it’s cute. Namjoon can’t help but be endeared by you. He’s known most people to act differently from their thoughts, people laughing with their friends and at the same time cursing them in their heads. He’s known people internally swearing at him before, teachers that secretly thought he was an idiot, his own parents angry enough at times to think that they didn’t want him as a son. There’s evilness in everyone — dishonesty, backstabbing, two-faced — but when it comes to you, there’s only nastiness in the best sense possible. All you have are dirty thoughts. He loves it. “I don’t.” “Namjoon,” you whine, “you know what I’m trying to say.” He shrugs with another mischievous smile. “Don’t know till you tell me.” The pout on your face does little to persuade him, so with a face lit on fire, you end up whispering, “I-I...want you t..to fuck me.” “Oh.” He nods and pretends to consider it. “But I thought they were doing a presentation in the library today. It’s probably crowded.” “Then how about the boy’s locker room?” you suggest, completely shameless. “Hmmm…..that’s a good place. But I don’t really feel like it.” “What?” Namjoon shrugs. “I don’t feel like it.” “Oh. Okay.” Your head turns to face forward, though the nonchalant act does little to cover up how embarrassed you really are. Still, you easily respect his decision with zero protests. But for the next handful of times, Namjoon completely rejects your advances. He rolls it off his shoulders, purposely acting ignorant and depriving you of all physical contact. It’s confusing and you begin to trace back to what you did. Maybe he was doing this as petty revenge, but you can’t think of anything you did wrong. You don’t understand. On a Tuesday afternoon, you catch him shifting his pants underneath his desk as you purposely daydream. You stare hard into the side of his face, catching on that he’s having a hard time with this sudden dry spell too, but he does nothing afterwards to satisfy either of you. It’s strange. Maybe Namjoon’s just lost interest in you. That would make some logical sense. Maybe you’re boring now that he’s fucked you twenty times— “Hey.” You turn, interrupted in your contemplation. “What?” One moment you’re upright and the next, he’s snaked his arms around you, pulling you into his body. You yelp, but the sound is suffocated against his mouth. Namjoon kisses you in the empty hallway, tongue down your throat. It’s risky. You don’t know why he’s doing this here. The bell’s about to ring. But your brain is silenced. All worries cease. You shut your eyes after a delayed moment, reveling in him. The sly boy takes his time in drinking in your expression. The passionate kiss sadly lasts for the shortest of seconds, only satisfying you for a mere moment. He lets you go just as fast as he held you. And you’re left breathless with swollen lips. The taste of chapstick lingers. “Wh-what was that?” “Nothing.” Namjoon shrugs, back of his hand coming to wipe his mouth, taking your saliva off of his mouth. Okay…. Maybe he didn’t lose interest in you after all. You’re more befuddled than before and more frustrated as well. It doesn’t add up — you must be making him uncomfortable with your sexual frustrations. The thoughts have been swirling around in your brain twenty four seven, purposely at that. You conjure up your fantasies every second you’re in his proximity. Yet, it gains nothing. There is no reaction. You even try touching yourself one night and while it does little to relieve your needs, you tell him through your thoughts the next day, conveying it with your brain waves. Again. Zero reaction. Perhaps he’s lost his ability. Maybe you got too close to him and his brain exploded and he can’t read your thoughts anymore. That wouldn’t be such a horrible thing considering you’d get your privacy back…..but it’s also terrible. The one time you want him to know your needs and he doesn’t. It takes three weeks, nearly a month of no sexual contact, for you to break. And you end up cornering Idiot Kim Namjoon on the way to the bus stop. “W-what’s wrong, Y/N?” Nervous laughter escapes him. You’ve literally cornered him in, metal fence digging into his back, mailbox to his left — there’s no escape. You’re near some poor old lady’s lawn, a bunch of high schoolers causing disturbances. But you don’t care how you look to outsiders. You can’t study at all. And when something begins to impair your academic abilities and your grades, you will stop at nothing to rid of it. “You tell me what’s wrong!” Your foot stamps like that of a petulant child. “Why have you been holding out?” “Holding out on what?” “Sex!” you shriek aloud and those passing by look over with widening eyes. “What?” “You haven’t touched me since the third of this month! Today is the twenty fourth!” “I...I just didn’t feel like it.” “Really?” You eye him up and down, finding it hard to believe. “I get it okay. If you don’t want to. It’s not like I mind. But I feel like you’re hiding something from me, Namjoon. You’re not telling me the entire truth. Suddenly you just don’t want to anymore?” “I kissed you...if that counts.” “That was eight days ago!” The corner of his mouth is shifted up in amusement. “You’ve been keeping count?” “Yes!” You’re unabashed, but at the same time, you want to cry. It’s so confusing that it hurts your head. “It’s just….ugh! I hate you!” “No, you don’t.” “Yes, I do!” You point an accusatory finger at his face, childish. “It’s unfair how you can read my mind like that but I can’t tell what you’re thinking at all! I hate you!” Namjoon smiles softly and it causes your anger to surge. “I just don’t want you to treat me like your sex toy.” “What?” By his sudden statement, you’re left hurt. “When have I ever?” “I need you to admit something to me. That’s why I’m….‘holding out’, okay?” It’s puzzling. Befuddling. You look at him like he’s speaking another language. This game...this puzzle...it’s too difficult to solve. You don’t want to play. “Admit what?” This time, it’s Namjoon who’s cornering you. He approaches, fast steps that end up pushing you against the fence. He looks down and wears a dorky, yet gentle smile. The boy leans down and his warm breath against your ear makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight— “You like me, don’t you?” There’s an extended pause. Your breath is halted. You’re ten seconds away from combusting on spot, steam coming out of your ears, body shutting down from mortification. You don’t know if you want to choke him out or grab fistfuls of your hair. “Oh my god….Oh my god! Get out of my head, Namjoon! Get out! Get out! Stop reading my thoughts!” But he grabs both of your wrists, not allowing you to cover your face up with your hands. Namjoon stares at you with the biggest shit-eating grin that you want to smack off. “Why are you embarrassed?” “You’re not supposed to know I like you! How dare you expose me, asshole!” you’re shouting at the top of your lungs. The grandma in the house is about to walk out with her cane and spank you both off her lawn for making such a ruckus. You’re not so discreet anymore, drawing attention from everyone. Though no one seems to particularly care, assuming that it’s just kids joking around with one another or it’s young love and just a minor lover’s spat. His stupid smile is about to break his goddamn cheeks. “So you like me?” You’re trapped and he already knows the answer anyway. There’s no choice but to own up and at least try to scrape up whatever's left of your dignity when you say it. “O-of course I like you. How could anyone not like you?” Namjoon’s heart is soaring in his chest. He giggles, sound bubbling out and gentle. It makes your cheeks grow warmer. “Well good. Because I like you too.” “Y-you do?” Part of you isn’t surprised, maybe your subconscious already knew it. But the other half that was filled with doubts is finally satisfied. You’re relieved. It’s a huge weight off your shoulders. “How could anyone not like you,” Namjoon repeats with another laugh, brushing a strand of your hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. The soft movement has you stuttering, but he steps back soon after, giving you space. “So...so what does this mean?” Is he your boyfriend now? Or is this just a casual thing? What does ‘like’ even mean? Does he like-like you or just like you? Did he just acknowledge you enjoy each other's company? But that’s obvious, of course you enjoy each other’s company. Then...does this mean he wants to pursue some kind of long term relationship? Dating? But what does dating even mean? What do you have to do? What if this becomes awkward? What if you mess up?! “I think….we should go on a date,” Namjoon suggests, calming you down before your brain goes completely haywire. He takes your hand, squeezing lightly with a smile to match. Your thoughts compose itself. “A date?” You blink, letting a few beats pass as everything that’s happened in the past five minutes sinks into you. It’s a lot to process. It’s overwhelming. But also— “That sounds... nice.” He nods and hums a warm note. “And we can see what happens from there. Step by step. Date by date.” It’s more than pleasant. You feel at ease in his company, in the way he knows your overthinking tendencies, how he so easily understands you. But what you manage is a fake scoff. He already knows what you really think. “Who says I’m going on a second date with you? You’re going to have to earn that.” “Please.” The pair of you are walking down the street again, hand in hand. “We both know you’re not going to leave my dick for someone else’s.” “Namjoon!” The clumsy boy laughs, squeezing your hand wrapped around his own. // You’re no longer safe in the depths of your own mind. Namjoon knows what you’re thinking — he can tell your constant poker face is a facade and that every time your brows furrow, it’s not in concentration, but that you’re preoccupied in a daydream. You’ve been invaded, thoughts exposed, but you don’t mind. He understands you better than yourself, helping you make sense of your occasional complicated ideas, appreciating your rather….strong imagination. He also quiets down your mind when it becomes too chaotic. He can stare at you and dive into your brain across the room, chuckling at what he finds. His ability is what bound you and him together after all. But these days, things are too busy to let your mind wander. And that’s okay too. These days, there’s less of an urgency to have constant romps in the sack. These days, there’s less of a rush to spend time with one another. There’s no need to hurry along when you know Namjoon’s here to stay. There’s no need now that the pair of you are together. “Namjoon!” You shout from across the hall, springing up to him on this hectic morning. Yet, you don’t care about the way you draw attention, at how you’re making people stare, how you’re revealing your cover, no longer just the studious girl sitting on the side of class and blending into the wall. You’re wearing a huge grin that is infectious to him. “What’s the matter?” There’s an envelope in your hand. But you can’t spit the words out when you’re gasping, out of breath, having ran all the way here to find him. He’s the first person you wanted to tell. And luckily enough, you don’t even need to speak the words. One good look at you and he knows. I got in. All at once, his eyes widen. His lips part. Then they tug into his cheeks, dimples pressed on either side of his face. Without being able to resist, Namjoon picks you off the ground, tightly hugging you and spinning you around. You laugh into his shoulder, relishing in his embrace, celebrating. It’s a moment between you and him in this busy hallway. No one else hears. No one knows. It’s just a little secret that the two of you share.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #namjoon smut #bts smut #namjoon fanfic

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mochifics · 4 years

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❝ something special ❞ | one.

• pairing: im jaebeom x reader. • genre: romance, really slow burn, fluff. • word count: 2.5k. • summary: it’s 2018, and got7′s hard carry 2 has begun filming. the company assigned you to tend to the two eldest members in the group all throughout the season, and you didn’t realize that being around them would be so... difficult.

author’s note: another chapter?? with a new look?? u bet!! this chapter kinda coincides with the first episode of hard carry 2, in case you feel like watching that first (or after) reading the chapter. (-: i have so much muse for this, so i plan on updating it pretty often so sorry if it’s a lil short. <3

It was raining.

Your eyes continued to admire the gloomy clouds scattered across the morning sky as the crimson cable car worked its way up a steep incline. The cameras were currently rolling as the members were on their way to their first photo mission stop in one of Hong Kong’s famous landmarks.

Heavy eyelids slowly fluttering shut, they abruptly open again upon hearing Yugyeom and BamBam belt out to what seemed like their own rendition of a song about roller coasters. The rest of the members were amazed by how high the cable car was going too, which caused you to laugh quietly to yourself in your seat.

Things were going okay so far. Aside from the sudden rain, everything was still right on schedule, and the members seemed to be having a good time despite the weather.

Letting the plastic hood of your rain poncho hover over your eyes, you allowed yourself to relax again. But before you know it, you felt a soft nudge on your knee, causing your eyes to open once more and shift to the source. It was Jaebeom, who you almost forgot was sitting by himself on the long seat right across from yours.

“Are you having fun?” he asked you warmly, which was more than enough to catch you off guard. What happened at the hotel was still engraved in your mind, and even the slightest remembrance of the mishap made your skin crawl in embarrassment.

Nodding your head, you reciprocated his smile, even if you were feeling something completely different. “I am. Are you?”

“You sure? You’ve been looking like you’d rather be somewhere else,” he quipped in return.

Hearing that had you rolling your eyes playfully, your hand hovered over your mouth to refrain from loud laughter. “Mr. Im, were you watching me?” But before he could say anything, the cable car came to a full stop. With the cameras off, the production crew announced for the members to step out, so Jaebeom only glanced at you and shrugged his shoulders as a response, a sly grin eminent across his lips.

And with that, he was out of your sight.

After a small trek through escalators in glass enclosures, you finally arrived at the top of Victoria’s Peak. The weather’s finally decided to clear up at this time—skies were still riddled with gray clouds, but at least the heavy downpour’s stopped. You take a deep breath to admire the fresh air, allowing for the cool breeze to trickle your skin.

“No, we can’t take the photo here—we have to do it down there,” you heard Jackson tell the members gathered up in a small area from afar. You quickened your pace to catch up to the platform that everyone was settled in, fixing the straps of the emergency backpack you were assigned to carry around.

Though before you could even stand still for one second, they were on the move again. “Isn’t it right here?” you heard Mark call out as his figure made its way down another pair of steps before the others followed suit. The camera crew quickly shuffled to catch up to where the members were standing.

They didn’t exactly need you while they were taking photos, so you decided to wander off on your own for the time being. There was a fairly empty section not too far away, so you walked over to the area and stay there for a bit. Your palms rest on the cool metallic raining as you take the time to admire the view of the city before you. It was gorgeous. Even with the air littered with a light fog, you were able to bask in the scenery’s beauty. You then reached into your bag to grab your Polaroid camera to take a souvenir photo of the view.

Aligning the camera perfectly to your eye, you pressed the button. The camera’s light flashed and the photo printed soon after, and you take it between your fingers and shake it.

“Need some help, intern?”

The words startled you for a moment, but you were able to regain your composure quickly. Turning around, your gaze met with Mark’s, who was standing right behind you, hands coolly tucked into the pockets of his coffee-colored slacks. Immediately you respond with a “no, I’m okay, thank you!” while waving your empty hand to emphasize your words. “Aren’t you supposed to be with everyone else?”

“We finished the mission, so everyone’s just taking pictures of each other,” he reassured with a half-grin. “But seriously, let me take a picture of you. Here,” both of his hands reached out to you, insinuating that he didn’t mind providing the extra help.

It was one of those weird situations where both outcomes could be very good, or very bad. You didn’t want to be a bother by having Mark go out of his way to do something, but at the same time, you were afraid to hurt his feelings by constantly declining. So, you bit the bullet and handed him the camera.

With a satisfied smile against his lips, he began to take a few steps back to find the perfect distance for the view. Bringing the camera up to his face, he gave you a thumbs up, signaling that he was ready to snap the photo whenever you were.

You didn’t want to showcase the flustered feeling taking over your entire body, so, you decided to try to act as relaxed as possible. You quickly remove the hood that was covering your head and quickly fix your hair before posing with a smile. Mark took it as a cue to slowly countdown, snapping the photo afterwards.

“I think you blinked,” Mark frowned as he took the newly printed photo, before giving it a shake. “Let’s take another one just in case.”

You wanted to protest, so badly, but didn’t have the heart to speak up and potentially cause unnecessary conflict. Then get fired for it. So, you murmured a quiet “okay” before leaning back against the glass barrier and posing again.

The camera flashed one more time, and Mark removed the second printed photo before shaking it. “Do they look okay?” you asked as you approached him. “Ha. I was right, you did blink in the first one,” he let out a laugh and showed you the final product.

You immediately groan at how bad you looked upon snatching both photos from his grip. The second one however, surprisingly was nice. It caught the view of the city perfectly, and you looked happy to be there. “Oh god, I’m just going to throw this one away—”

“Wait!” he interjected before you could even take one step forward, hovering over you from behind to quickly steal the photo again. “…I’ll keep it. It’s a waste.”

Failing to take it back, he was already being called by the other members to join them. The cameras were about to roll again as they prepare for their next stop, so Mark only looked back at you with a smile and waved goodbye, then running over to join the rest of his friends.

And you couldn’t help but wonder over and over, why?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The trip to the next few mission stops were a blur.

Shooting turned chaotic when the group reached the heart of the city for the second, third, and fourth stop. From the midlevel outdoor escalator to the infamous clock tower in In Harbor City, the crew wanted to film everything quickly to avoid drawing in a big crowd.

In some instances, it was too late. You spent most of the time out becoming this literal human shield—arms spread across as wide as you could while you kept up with the pace of both the crew and the members walking through the city.

You didn’t think you were going to have to play security for a bit and act as a blockage that allowed space for the members to safely film without being bombarded by the fans. At times you even had to give a friendly push for the ones who eagerly insisted to get closer pictures of the group, and despite earning malicious glares from them, you did what you had to do.

“Welcome to Disneyland!” Jackson’s cheery greeting was enough for you to snap out of your train of thought. Everyone finally arrived at the last mission spot for the day, which also happened to be your favorite. You’ve always loved visiting Disney parks. Despite you being there for work, you were still grateful for the opportunity.

“Where’s Iron Man?” BamBam added, glancing around his surroundings. You recalled that one of their tasks involved taking a photo with the famous Avenger, so everyone made their way to the area that held the Stark Expo. It was the area that held the Iron Man ride, as well as the meet and greet with Tony Stark himself. Apparently, the goal for the photo op was to have everyone pose like Iron Man, while BamBam posed like Black Panther.

After taking some time to navigate around the amusement park and Jackson asking many employees nearby for directions to their needed stop, everyone finally reached Stark Expo. An employee was there in the front to help accommodate GOT7 inside, giving them the perk to cut in line and instantly hop onto the ride.

“Do you want to come ride with us, intern? There’s room in there for you,” Jinyoung asked you as they waited for the camera crew to set up, arms folded across his chest. He always looked so chic, even in the most normal setting.

“Yeah, join us!” Youngjae chimed in before you could even answer. He slung an arm over Jinyoung’s shoulders and looked at you expectantly. “You’ve spent the entire day running around with us, we want you to have some fun too.”

“Ah... If I wasn’t working, I’d definitely tag along. But you can tell me all about it later,” you said nicely, as an attempt to lighten the mood. You were instructed by the crew to stay outside and wait with everyone else, but was touched by the invitation anyway.

Both Jinyoung and Youngjae frowned at the response. But as they were about to say something, they were being pulled inside the building.

“We’ll say hi to Iron Man for you!” you heard Yugyeom call out last minute with his head poking out before going in, and it made you smile.

And just like that, the afternoon flew by.

After spending the rest of the afternoon completing photo missions in the theme park (meeting Iron Man along with Mickey and Minnie Mouse), filming the first episode of Hard Carry was drawing to an end. To end the episode nicely, Jaebeom suggested for everyone to ride the most intense roller coaster in the park.

In the end, most of the members decided to go on.

“Man... just watching it makes me dizzy already,” Youngjae commented with a laugh. You, along with Youngjae and Jinyoung were resting right by the roller coaster the other members were riding, which gave the perfect view to see them when they pass by.

“I bet we’ll be able to hear Jackson’s scream the most,” Jinyoung snickered before taking a small sip of the water bottle you bought for him prior. He then proceeded to rest his elbows on the wooden fencing in front.

“Mr. Wang doesn’t like roller coasters?” You wondered aloud, though not expecting a response from either of them. Your eyes were busy being fixated on the view of the ride in its entirety in before you, watching the carts zoom through the rails—its speed enough to have air waft through your hair each time they pass by your area.

“You know what, I’m actually not so sure where he stands with rides,” Jinyoung answered back, which earned a laugh from both you and Youngjae. “He doesn’t mind going on them, but when it starts, he literally loses it. So, I don’t know… Maybe.”

As Youngjae opened his mouth to add another comment, all your heads turned upon hearing the screams of very familiar voices. At a distance, you could make out the rest of the members on the ride. Yugyeom holding for his life, Jaebeom and BamBam flailing their arms out, Jackson holding onto Jaebeom for his dear life, and Mark casually laughing in the back. Both Jinyoung and Youngjae were laughing hysterically at this point, and it was incredibly contagious. It was hard not to join them in on the laughter.

A few minutes have passed since the sighting of the members, and the rest of the group along with the crew were finally reunited where you and the others were previously waiting.

“Can we please go on another ride?” You heard Yugyeom endlessly plead to their management, even when filming has already wrapped up for the evening. “Just one more! Just one more and we’ll be done, we swear!”

“Yeah, I want to go on the scariest one in the park,” Jaebeom added in hopes to help the younger’s case, his frame leaning against the railing with his hands in his pockets.

One thing’s for sure, you could already tell it was hard to resist to their charm. Judging by the look of their manager’s face, he was already close to giving into what they wanted. Besides, they deserved the break. They’ve just finished their world tour, and needed to enjoy their time in Hong Kong before flying back to Korea tomorrow night.

You watched the group go back and forth between their manager afar for a good five minutes, awkwardly standing as you waited for someone to give you further instructions on where to be for the evening. Soon enough management agreed to their cries, and gave them two extra hours to do whatever they wanted in the park before meeting back on the bus. They all celebrated their victory with loud cheers all around.

“Intern!” you lost your train of thought as you heard someone from their management call for you. Quickly, you look up and gave them your undivided attention as they explained where you’d be going for the rest of the evening. “The members are splitting up because they all wanted to go someplace different... can you look after Mr. Im and Mr. Tuan? Just make sure that they don’t get lost and arrive at the bus safely on time. Bring them to a nearby gift shop and have them change into different clothes and wear a mask, okay? See you all in two hours.”

Even though filming has wrapped and you were technically done for the evening, declining their management would definitely make you look bad.

So, while you preferred heading back to the bus and taking that nap you desperately needed, you agreed.

#got7 #got7 imagine #got7 fanfic #im jaebeom fanfic #jaebeom fanfic #im jaebeom imagine #jaebeom x reader #something special.

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prettywordsyouleft · 5 years

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The Perfect Match

Summary: Jinyoung couldn’t believe someone like you could match him in any way when he first met you. But that didn’t stop him from thinking of you constantly either.

Pairing: Park Jinyoung x reader

Genre: meet messy / “soulmate” au / fluff

Warnings: none

A/N: This is dedicated to @ahgase55g7 who not only is an amazing friend who listens to me and all my fiction ideas all too much, but actually convinced me to write this fun little story. I hope you love how it’s come together, Amanda!

Word count: 6233

Like most people in society, Park Jinyoung wasn’t immune to the belief of a perfect match. Every person on Earth had at least one, another human who could come into your life and fit next to you like a puzzle piece. Of course, some would refer to this matching phenomena as having a soulmate, except you weren’t limited to just one person.

In a land where people’s faces blurred with one and the other, the population so large that it made it impossible for a simple face to stand out against the crowd, a system had been formulated by the ancestors of their time to help with finding your match.

It seemed silly really, to rely on something as simple as a zodiac sign; an animal year you were born under that would lead you to the one who would fulfil your life’s potential.

And yet here he was, just like everyone else around him, aware of the little nuances people signified themselves by. A snake embroidered on your favourite jacket or a set of goat earrings, everyone had their way of distinguishing themselves for others to read. A beacon to find someone who complimented you in every way with their own animal. Everyone had multiple levels of compatibility, a triad of good and bad, with each sign having at least one perfect match.

For Jinyoung, as a dog, he was on the hunt for a rabbit.

It wasn’t as if he was actively pursuing it. There was, after all, more to life than searching for bunnies on backpacks or headpieces. He was a hard-working entrepreneur, attempting to make his big break in the art industry. He envisioned a space in which art would be displayed at the forefront, to colour the individual and evoke emotions within them that left a lasting impression.

He wanted to bring some of the old back into this modern world.

Of course, his dream was bigger than his reality. He had the building, the time, and most importantly the dedication.

What he lacked were exhibitions that would draw the attention into his facility. He needed to branch out, employ some contracted artists who matched his vision and start planning for his big moment.

And that’s when he met you.

“Am I late?!” a voice screeched, heels clinking across the tiled floor in a way that disturbed the harmony within the art gallery, Jinyoung whipping around to see who would be so bold to do such a thing. You appeared then, face flushed with colour from your evident haste, your steps not slowing any despite how close you were to him now.

“Woahhh!”

Your eyes now round as saucers as you noticed the sculpture ahead of you, you tried to redirect your path somewhere else, and Jinyoung managed to reach out in time, yanking you back towards him and away from the precious artwork you nearly assaulted. Instead, with the acceleration of the movement, the force sent you both sprawling onto the floor, Jinyoung taking most of the fall.

For a moment, everything was silent.

And then, just like the tornado that you had been spinning into his world, your mouth started to move just as fast. “Oh my God, are you okay?! Of course, you’re not you’re on the floor! And you caught my fall, I’m so sorry! Can I help you, does it hurt?! Is there-”

“Up!” he managed to instruct once his lungs inflated with enough air that your incident had knocked out of him and you scrambled to your feet, a hand reaching down for his and pulling him up just as quickly.

Your avid gaze scanned him from head to toe, actively searching for an obvious sign of distress or pain. Unfortunately for you, it was all internally and he suppressed a groan, his eyes growing hard the longer you did it. Jinyoung cleared his throat noisily. “Are you here for the interview?”

Nodding animatedly, you swung out your arm, blinking in confusion when you noticed it was still linked to his. Giggling nervously, you snapped your hand back, letting him go. “I’m Y/N. I rung earlier.”

“Earlier?” he repeated and once again you nodded with far too much energy. He sighed, just watching you was exhausting. Then again, that could very well do with the way you had crashed into him just before as well. Jinyoung frowned; he hadn’t received a call from anyone today.

You slowly glanced around the studio, your gaze widening and your mouth fell ajar as you soaked in the assorted artwork. When you had spun around the room entirely, you then lifted your index finger to your mouth. “This is an art exhibition?”

“Well, yes,” he answered as if that wasn’t the most obvious reason for the display before you. He scrutinised you, not seeing what he had expected from a candidate. Most carried large portfolios around with them and dressed in professional attire. Whilst your blouse and jeans combo was clean, it definitely didn’t leave him with a great first impression. “You’re an artist?”

“Oh goodness no, I’m a writer!” you exclaimed, waving him off casually. You then grinned. “Though, I suppose words can be like art. Not everyone has the gift of the gab or the skills to write creatively.”

“A writer?”

You nodded up and down and he grew dizzy. “That’s me! You are the place looking for a part -time editor, right? I’m so terrible with directions; I got lost three times on my way here. That’s why I was late.”

It all made sense now, and Jinyoung let out a laugh, the gesture rupturing out from his chest so loudly that for a moment you merely stared. And then you joined him, laughing heartily that you hadn’t realised he had stopped. He then shook his head firmly. “I’m not hiring a writer.”

“Really?” you asked and he folded his arms, cocking his head to the side. Instead of apologising as he expected you to, your eyes grew round again, a curse leaving you before you spun out of his space towards the exit, taking yourself out to torment the sidewalk and whoever else got caught up in your wind. Jinyoung was stunned, you had left without so much as a polite farewell and he blinked after your departure, trying to decipher how such a person could even exist.

It was then when he noticed you left something behind, crouching down to inspect the item. He stared at the bunny plushie in horror, wondering how on earth someone like you could be someone who matched him so perfectly.

“There are better matches out there for me,” he murmured, carrying the signifier into his office and placing it down heavily on his desk. Scrunching his nose up at the item, he then let out a cry in pain, the adrenalin now wearing off and making him reach for his back haggardly.

“Stupid bunny!”

Jinyoung never expected to see you again. Although you had dropped the bunny behind, he assumed you would cut your losses and focus on the more important things in life. And despite coming to this logical conclusion, it didn’t mean he stopped thinking about you.

Not at all.

For the next two days, he replayed the interaction with you from all angles, sometimes cursing you out for your erratic mannerisms, and others chuckling at how different you were from everyone else. Even if he didn’t want to admit it, he was intrigued by how someone like you existed. He was so used to his quiet lifestyle where everything was a result of his hard work. He knew what to expect from each day due to the personal standards he maintained. With you, it seemed life was much more exciting. He almost envied you, the carefree nature in how you came in and subsequently departed, uncaring of your first impression you left behind. Granted, you had been in a rush, all the same, he could tell there was a different set of priorities between you both.

Jinyoung wondered if he took everything too seriously and was missing out on some magic in life that you seemed to have discovered. Or maybe you carried it from within. He just couldn’t figure you out. And the fact that you were someone that matched him on the zodiac compatibility charts didn’t ease his mind any.

Still, when you stepped back into the gallery later in the week, albeit with a slower gait this time, he was stunned. Blinking rapidly to ensure he wasn’t imagining your appearance, he came down from the balcony above, thumping down the stairs until he stood before you, his breath unstable. You smiled brightly and his heart thudded in his chest unevenly.

“This might sound really odd, but-”

“Your bunny?” he cut in impatiently and your lips curled up further.

“Oh thank god, I did drop it here after all!” Without any hesitation, you reached forward for his forearm, shaking it excitedly. “Please tell me you kept it safe!”

“I didn’t know if you would come back or not, so I’ve stored it in my office,” he explained and glanced down at his arm you still encased your hands around. He didn’t understand why he was being so weird today. Maybe that just came from being in your company. He was slightly dejected when you yanked your hands away with a nervous chuckle.

“Sorry, I get a little too animated sometimes.”

His mouth twitched, humour evident in his eyes. “A little?”

“Mhm!” you hummed positively as you followed him to the room off the side of the atrium, marvelling his office as if it was the most amazing space you had ever entered. It made Jinyoung anxious, unable to see what impressed you with his own eyes. “Woah, you have a lot of credentials.”

Your praise didn’t make him satisfied, instead, he turned to peer at you curiously. Handing over your bunny, he then folded his arms across his chest and leaned back into the tabletop. “Only what’s required of me to run an art gallery.”

“Only?” you echoed, shaking your head to refute his sentence. “Your passion is evident with all these achievements. I admire you for reaching out for your dreams. Being a curator must be a fulfilling role.”

He didn’t know how to answer you, overwhelmed by your words. You were the first person to tell Jinyoung how proud you were, and you were a mere stranger. It struck a chord within him, his mouth falling ajar as he sucked in a steadying breath.

You truly had a multitude of charms to you that he wasn’t expecting.

Shaking the bunny in your grip, you attached it back onto your bag’s handle, patting it now that it was safe where it belonged. “Thank you for taking care of her! I shouldn’t keep taking up the time of someone as busy as you are.”

“Did you get the job at the editing firm?” he blurted out and your smile that had been reaching up into your eyes left them, disappointment filling the space where happiness once was. You didn’t hide a single emotion in front of him and Jinyoung stared back at you intently. It was refreshing to meet someone who he didn’t have to work so hard to understand how they felt - even if you were still one of the most confusing humans he had ever come across.

“No, but that’s okay right?! Someone will find my skills set useful soon!”

“Do you want to go grab a coffee, if you’re not busy?” he continued, surprising himself along with you.

Leaning forward, you peered into his face for signs of something he was unable to decipher before you grinned. “Do you like me, Mr Curator?”

“Jinyoung,” he introduced rapidly and shook his head. “I uh, just feel like I might have played into your unfort-”

“You’re really cute right now!” you exclaimed with a giggle and nodded your head. “I’m kidding about the liking part, but getting a drink does sound appealing. Should we?”

You both walked to the closest coffee shop after he locked the front door to the gallery, Jinyoung peering at you every now and then. You didn’t seem to be as affected as he was in your company. His mind was reeling, had he truly just offered you coffee and fumbled over it? Receiving a single praise from a stranger sure seemed to affect his psyche more than he had realised.

But Jinyoung knew deep down there was more to it. The way you hadn’t left his mind and reappeared as if he had conjured you up himself seemed to speak volumes to him. Even if you had some less than desirable traits, you had hooked him in some way. Jinyoung wanted to understand you more as if he had been presented with a piece of artwork with no obvious way to describe it. Every time he thought he had an answer, you would show another angle, leaving him with no other option than to observe you further.

It was his staring that seemed to unsettle you the most once you were both seated with your beverages, your cheeks flushing the longer he did so. “Do you always observe people as if they’re paintings too?”

“Well, I-” Guilt flooded his features as you giggled, playing around with the straw to your iced latte.

You leaned in closer and Jinyoung snapped back, rigid from your easy approach. “So tell me, Jinyoung, what kind of impression do I leave you with?”

“Chaotic,” he answered immediately, cheeks reddening when he realised he said it aloud.

You laughed heartily then, satisfied with his answer. “I like that. The mind of a creative writer is pretty much just that.”

“Are you published anywhere?” he asked and your humour simmered down. Jinyoung became aware accomplishments were something of a weakness for you.

You shot him a wry smile after sipping at your drink. “Unlike you, it seems my drive isn’t as proficient. Maybe one day, I’ll make it big, but I doubt my words far too often. It’s easier to edit others.”

He could relate to you there. Sure, he ran an art gallery, but none of his own paintings were displayed there, despite being known as an artist for most of his life. He shook away the connection, returning to the first part of your reply. He pursed his lips together before asking, “You’ve observed me too?”

Grinning, you nodded. “One might even go as far as to say they’ve looked you up online, Park Jinyoung.”

This surprised him, though he was unsure if he liked that you had or not. Had you figured his zodiac sign matched yours in any way too? He instinctively fingered the dog logo on the corner of his phone case on top of the table, wondering if you had noticed it before now. You seemed to pay his action no notice, lifting your hand up solemnly instead, ready to pledge an oath of some kind.

“To be fair, I mentioned the other day I’m useless with directions, right? Well, I remembered the name Gallery Park and that’s how I found my way back to get my bag charm today. I admit I was curious about your work, from one creative enthusiast to another. However, I have to say it wasn’t as impressive online as it was in person.”

“Ex-excuse me?!” he squeaked, his thoughts screeching to a halt, derailed at your dismissive approach. You weren’t teasing, that much he could tell with your casual gaze and he gaped at you, confusion settling in. Hadn’t you just praised his efforts earlier?

“Who designed your website? Are they boring and dry in nature? There was nothing compelling to bring any attention to what you or your gallery hopes to achieve at all.”

“Bor...Boring?!” he repeated, and your eyes rounded, realising he was the one behind the website. You weren’t apologetic in the slightest and he gasped for air to calm his nerves.

He had been right to consider you chaotic. You were definitely tampering with his peace once again. “It’s professional.”

“Sure, sure,” you agreed with an unconvincing tone, glancing out the window, something outside catching your attention. It irked him and he placed his hand down on the table with more force than he intended. Your stare found his again, now amused by his clear dishevelment. “Did I strike a nerve?”

“More than one,” he admitted gruffly and you giggled, taking another drink. Jinyoung didn’t know what to do. Part of him wanted to get up and leave, to walk away from your tumultuous personality and back to where he felt most at ease. He stared at his take out cup, gulping some of the coffee down and then over at you. Still, you made no attempt to apologise. Just as you had said earlier, he had worked too hard for what he owned. You had nothing that he could compare to and-

“I felt bad for interrupting your hiring process the other day, so I did this for you. If you don’t like it, you can simply throw it away.” Slipping a USB stick towards him, you then picked up your drink, shaking the cup and shooting him another smile. “Thanks for this. It was nice spending time with a professional today.”

He couldn’t figure out if your last line was a dig or not. In fact, Jinyoung didn’t have a single clue on how to take anything when it came to you. He had experienced so many emotions in the short space of time, acting uncharacteristically from his usual self too. And yet, he still couldn’t shake how intrigued he was over you. When back at the gallery, he booted the USB up in his computer, opening the file immediately. The document soon appeared and he scrolled over the multiple pages quickly, trying to figure out how this would be of any benefit to him.

“What is all this?” he murmured, returning to the top of the document and began to read.

He soon realised you had taken the information on his website and reformatted everything. From the front page introduction to the current exhibition details and even his about page, you had transformed it to sound, well, he wasn’t able to think of a single word for it. It was coherent yet appealing, your choice of words executed as beautifully as fine paint strokes, each word earning its place and showing why it was there.

You hadn’t stated his achievements in a bulleted list, instead, you had gone into them as if you had been a part of the journey yourself, describing Gallery Park and Jinyoung himself in a way that highlighted his strengths effortlessly. He had to admit, this was far better than what he already had on his web domain. Jinyoung was excited, as if he had been introduced to a new person with an amazing outlook in the art industry.

In reality, it was just him and that kind of overwhelmed him. How could he sound this good?

Scrolling through again to the end, he stopped, cursing his hasty reaction to you earlier. You were good. Too good. How had you not been hired?! He felt as if he had become the biggest fan of your words, now sitting here feeling let down that he had finished reading through. He craved more, wishing for further content with your flavour on it.

He regretted giving back the bunny. There was nothing to bring you back here, nothing that stood out as something that could lure you back so he could thank you. Congratulate you as much as you had him earlier. The doubt you showcased in your work, Jinyoung wished to eradicate. He was desperate to do something, anything for you.

It was then that he saw something taped onto the underside of the USB stick. A URL. Typing in the web address, he discovered your world. The magic that encompassed you as a person came from within here. He spent hours going through your works, reading stories both fantastical and realistic enough that he felt he knew the characters as if they were people he had met in his life by the end of the story. He hadn’t realised he didn’t eat dinner until his stomach begged at him into the later hours of the evening to feed it and slowly he roused from the drunken stupor he felt he was under, shaking away the remnants of the last world he had read and packed up for the day. He walked out of the gallery and locked up, frowning when a hand shot out in front of him.

“I wondered, would he be hungry by now?” you started and Jinyoung froze, eyes glued to you as you bounced into view. You feigned a thoughtful pose before grinning again. “I have no idea if you have allergies to food, so I tried to pick something common. Here.”

“What… what are you doing here?”

“Should I go?” you countered and Jinyoung snapped, lurching forward and shaking his head as he gripped your wrist. You smiled warmly, liking the feeling.

“How did you…?”

“You have to sign up for my blog to read my content. Only you would choose a username with your initials in it, Jinyoung.”

He chuckled, relaxing somewhat. “How come it feels like you know too much about me?”

“Maybe I do,” you teased and shook the bag of food. “Are you going to take it or not?”

“Want to come in here and eat with me?”

“Ooh, back into the building that has so much going for it?” you announced, nodding happily enough. Jinyoung unlocked the door again and took you into the back room, the small staff cafeteria lacked a lot in content. Only a lone fridge where he stored drinks for his clients and a small table decorated the room and you glanced around before smiling.

“Did you hire anyone?”

“No one shares the same vision as I do,” he told you with a shake of his head.

You smirked. “You aren’t prepared to see other people’s visions either.”

“I saw yours,” he mentioned and you faltered, chewing on your bottom lip lightly. Jinyoung smiled as he reached out for one of the packets of food and opened it. “Well, I read it.”

“What did you think?”

“You should let the world read your words, Y/N. They’re better than you think of them,” he encouraged and you didn’t respond, making Jinyoung feel vulnerable. He wanted to be just like you, to show the praise you had for him right back. He wasn’t as bold as you were, however, and grimaced at your lack of reaction. “Do you, not uh, want to?”

“I thought if I wrote for a living, I would get to live my best life. I’d share my favourite thing with everyone. Turns out, it doesn’t keep money flowing as well as I’d like. So I picked up editing tasks because other people have words that need to be shared too. It’s hard to balance both sometimes.” You blinked rapidly and turned so he could see you deal with your emotions. “Ah, why am I telling you this?”

“The same reason you remodelled my portfolio,” Jinyoung stated, realising the longer he stared at you that he was becoming captivated. He smiled. “I think we have a connection, don’t you?”

There was no giggle, no teasing in your eyes as you looked at him. Instead, you radiated a warmth he had never seen before from another person. Was he watching you fall for him as the seconds went by? Your lips curled up, your hands reaching to catch your head as if it had grown too full to hold itself up alone. And then you nodded.

“Maybe there’s more to explore with you, Mr Curator.”

Jinyoung didn’t try to hire you right away. He had attempted to pay you for your website work, but you flat refused it, telling him you were truly doing him a favour. And that you had. With your amendments, the site traffic seemed to double. He was soon receiving messages about the venue, wondering if he would be open to holding functions there for business clientele. Whilst Jinyoung hadn’t ever imagined anything other than art exhibitions, this was a smart business tactic. The more people visited the gallery, the more word of mouth would travel. It wasn’t long until he was making a steady name for himself in the more affluent circles.

And that’s when Jinyoung realised he needed someone savvy with words to be in charge of PR. “You would be perfect for the role. You say it yourself, you have the gift of the gab, Y/N.”

You looked at him carefully, your fork remaining raised midair. It had become somewhat of a tradition over the last three months that you ate dinner together at least once a week. Tonight, Jinyoung had taken you out to an Italian restaurant, and you seemed to connect this to his offer. “Is this delicious meal a form of bribery?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “If I say yes, will you work for me?”

“I don’t want to,” you announced and he frowned, your rejection confusing him. He knew the temporary roles you were holding at various positions around the city were taxing for you to keep up with. He wasn’t offering you something short-term. You had often proclaimed to want more of his stability in life. And he was literally offering you a way to reach out for it right now.

Your eyes remained resolute and he sighed heavily. “Why not? What is it that bothers you about the gallery?”

“The gallery isn’t a problem. I’d love to work there and see it grow into a bustling hub for art enthusiasts. Jinyoung, the problem is you.”

“Me?” he echoed. Even after knowing you for as long as he had, you never failed to surprise him. He arched an eyebrow, wondering if this was one of your dramatic moments. “What about me is a problem?”

“Everything about you is a problem to me,” you mentioned, sparing some of the pasta in your bowl, spinning your utensil slowly, methodically. He watched the motion as if he was the pasta you were coiling, his stomach tightening the longer you didn’t answer him directly. “I can’t work with someone like you.”

“Like me? Y/N, you’re being ridiculous and-”

“I like you, Jinyoung,” you confessed, eyes lifting away from the food finally. You smiled, albeit gently compared to your usual ones. “Can you imagine liking someone so much but then you have to work for them too? There’s no distinction between work and personal life. I can’t do that.”

Jinyoung blinked slowly, his fork clinking into his bowl the longer he deciphered your confession. And then he snapped his eyes up to find yours. “You can’t just say that!”

“Why not? It’s the truth. What if we fight as a couple, and then at work we have to engage in projects closely? I don’t think my mind could handle that.”

He was all but hyperventilating at your casual reply. Sure, it showed you had thought about it carefully, but he couldn’t comprehend that right now. You were acting as if he and you were already something. Jinyoung didn’t know what you were to him.

“Y/N, you can’t just confess you like me without thinking about my feelings too!” he hissed out, taking a long gulp of his wine. You giggled and his eyes nearly fell out of his head. “How can you laugh right now?!”

“Because you’re being cute again.”

“I’m-!” he started, voice an octave too high and Jinyoung glanced around himself awkwardly before leaning towards your unaffected eating self. “I’m not cute, and you’re moving far too ahead of yourself!”

“So you don’t like me back? Well, that sucks,” you replied, letting out a heavy sigh. And then you went back to eating. “I still can’t accept the offer. You’ll find me staring at you, yearning over my one-sided crush at the most inopportune moments and I’ll eventually have to quit when you haven’t fallen in love with me within a year of employment.”

“You’re toying with me,” he concluded and whilst you did grin, indicating your wicked play, something about the look in your eyes told him it wasn’t all false. Just as he had that night you first bought him food, he could see the emotions unfolding in your eyes. There was a sting from his hasty dismissal, yet the warmth remained in the back at a safe distance this time.

Jinyoung realised he was waiting for it to come forward as it usually did. But you didn’t allow it, looking down at your meal and exclaiming that his offers always came with such delicious food.

He couldn’t taste the flavour anymore.

Your confession plagued him.

In fact, the scenarios you created did as well, making it harder for him to work in the office some days. He would be working on answering emails or planning out upcoming events for the gallery when the image of you would sneak up in his head, offering forth several options. Sometimes your careful words that night would win out, showcasing just why working with you would be a nightmare. The fantasies would more often than not turn down a path you hadn’t voiced. He would imagine the shared smiles, subtle touches and bouts of unrestrained passion after hours until Jinyoung was certain there was something terribly wrong with him.

More often than not, whenever he was riddled with thoughts of you, he would find himself standing in the atrium, eyes glued to the entrance in anticipation.

He’d think back to the way you had come through the automatic doors, barrelling over like the chaotic wind you were. Jinyoung was positive that on that day you had swept off with his heart, rattling it enough that it now only beat in tune for you.

He was hesitant to speak of his growing feelings to you, however.

Although it was petty, your confession over dinner that night had wounded his pride. Whilst he had still been in a land of denial then, he knew he had hoped to be the one to tell you how he felt first.

That you were the rabbit to his dog, the matching puzzle piece he had hoped to meet in his lifetime. Opposites attract and you were the complete mirrored image of him. His calm was messed with your wind, the peace challenged by your chaos and his head rivalled your heart.

Jinyoung knew this was love.

He was aware deep down that he wouldn’t feel complete until he told you, and so Jinyoung began to plan his confession. You might have stolen his thunder but he’d still be able to create the perfect brew between you both for a love storm to take over. He decided he would use the ruse of convincing you to work for him, knowing that if he sounded desperate enough, you would come to his aid.

And that you did.

“Okay, I’m here, how long do we have until the clients arrive for tonight’s event? How could you hire a catering team that would cancel on the day at such short notice?!” you exclaimed as soon as you were inside the atrium, hands reaching up into your hair to tie it back from your face.

You looked determined and ready to work.

So Jinyoung let you.

Taking you into the kitchen, he pointed to some of the food he had started preparing. “It’s not a huge event, luckily. Can you finish prepping these two dinner plates and I’ll go upstairs and ensure the private viewing room is ready for them to arrive.”

“I’ll bring them up when I’m done,” you announced and he nodded, happily leaving you to the task before dashing upstairs to give himself a pep-talk. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this anxious and when you entered the room, he was startled, flinching visibly.

You chuckled as you placed the food down, approaching him and reaching for the collar of his shirt to tidy it. “I’m sure the client tonight must be important for you to look this frazzled, Jinyoung.”

“I uh-”

“I believe in you. I know you have it in you to make sure tonight goes as smoothly as you hope,” you continued, unaware of how your words were lending him the courage to continue with his plans. He smiled, standing there as you smoothed out his attire, waiting until your gaze shifted up to his. When you did, you narrowed yours, questioning his expression.

“The client is already here.”

“Where? Oh my god, go greet them! I’ll dash down as soon as I can so you can entertain them.” Your eyes darted around the room rapidly and you gave him a little shove. But Jinyoung didn’t shift away, and a short puff of air slipped from between your lips impatiently. “Why aren’t you going?!”

“I should greet them in a way that would dazzle them, right?” he asked and you nodded all too much, making his smile curl up further. He cocked his head to the side. “Make a lasting impression that they cannot forget?”

“Yes, Jinyoung, would you jus-”

Your sentence effectively cut off when his lips met yours. Reaching to hold your face with both of his hands, Jinyoung kissed you passionately, his mouth moving against yours in a way that he could tell had surprised you. Your hands gripped at his waist for support from his sudden approach, soon relaxing and slipping around and up his back as you kissed him back. It seemed like an eternity was spent between you both as he explored your mouth, bodies flush against one another as your tongues danced together. This was heaven, a Nirvana that had been in front of him all this time and he had been so slow to reach out for.

Yet Jinyoung knew the wait had been worth it. His feelings for you were at their highest point now, and he was certain you could taste how he thought of you the longer he kissed you. It was giddying and even he was having a hard time keeping up with all the explosive lust enveloping you both.

Eventually, you needed air. It was reluctant, the way you tore your mouth away from his, eyes hooded as you tried to comprehend everything that had just happened. “I’m not quite following you.”

“I was just greeting my client,” he murmured, eyes still locked on your swollen lips. He smirked, satisfied with his handiwork. Rubbing your face gently, he travelled up until he was seeing your eyes, the lust sitting right on the surface, along with the warmth he had grown to enjoy the most. He grinned, resting his forehead against yours and dropped one hand away from your face. “God, I love you.”

“You can’t just say that!” you breathed, hands now gripping onto him for support. He laughed, how had he known you would be the type to go weak at the knees. Blushing profusely, you blinked rapidly, trying to garner some sort of response. “You can’t tell me you love me without me being ready to hear it!”

“You’ve been ready a whole lot longer than I have.”

“I know,” you complained, sucking in a deep breath and trying to fight your way through the lust to find some sense of coherency. You looked up at him, completely lost. It was surprising to see, you normally went along with everything so easily. You were searching for confirmation, and if he hadn’t of been pressing into you so closely, Jinyoung was certain you would have pinched yourself to see if you were dreaming. You took a deep breath. “Tell me again.”

“I love you, Y/N. I love how chaotic you are. How magical you make my world feel. How I wish to be around your carefree spirit every day. You’re my match in life, I’ve known that we matched from the beginning.”

“You did?”

He nodded, smiling back at you. “You left it here for me as a sign from our first meeting. I knew with how crazy you drove me back then that you were the one for me.”

You frowned but didn’t say anything else, a smile soon erasing any doubt. Stepping up on your toes, you hovered around his mouth, your breath fanning on his face. “The food’s getting cold.”

“Are you hungry?” he wondered and you smiled, nodding your head. He faltered. “Really?

“Are these lips ever going to find mine again, or will you have me starve?”

Jinyoung laughed before he kissed you again. And when that kiss ended, the next began, the food long forgotten with another hunger. It was when he travelled his lips to your neck that he suddenly stopped, brushing your hair aside with his hand. He blinked, looking at the small tattoo behind your ear. “You’re a tiger?”

“Mm,” you hummed, arching your neck towards him for the pleasure to continue. You pouted at him when it didn’t. “Is that a problem?”

Jinyoung smiled, chuckling even, before he shook his head firmly. “No. You’re my perfect match.”

_________________

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lveclouds · 4 years

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a/n: yet another got7 drabble!! this is going to be a bit angsty, so i apologize in advance and honestly this banner is probably one of my favorites hehe and also this drabble took me a while to type up but it was worth it! and this is very much unedited so if you see any grammatical errors then that’s on me lmao

genre: fluff, angst, college/university au, friends to lovers

rating: pg (for mild swearing)

warnings: light swearing, mild angst,a bit cheesy/cliche (jinyoung’s a huge dork in this hehe think wmylb jinyoung, but like a much tamer and softer version. wmylb jinyoung is uh, very passionate in voicing his opinions, and we love that, its just not fitting for the image that i have for him in this drabble)

pairing: literature major jinyoung x arts major reader

word count: 2.3k

you stared at the glowing laptop screen in front of you, eyes struggling to stay open, lashes fluttering, sleep threatening to take over. you couldn’t help but let out a small yawn, forcing yourself to keep your eyes open. the hardest exam of your life, and one that would have a major effect on your grade, was less than a week away, and you had barely looked at any of the review material. you had been so caught up in finishing your arts project and focusing on raising your grade that the anatomy exam had slipped your mind. and now, here you were, at three o clock in the morning, fighting sleep, trying to cram in information. you couldn’t believe you had been so foolish and careless. anatomy had always been a subject that you struggled in, and because you were stubborn and didn’t want people to think you were pathetic or lazy, you refused your professor’s suggestion to enlist the help of a tutor. you were so confident and sure that you could improve on your own, and well, you had never felt so idiotic in your life.

despite looking over the review material and pouring over pages of the dictionary sized textbook you had to lug around nearly every day, not a single ounce of information seemed to be sticking. the last few days had been spent relentlessly studying countless websites, books, review material, and just about anything that could potentially help you. you were beginning to get a bit stressed out, but you supposed that all of this was because of you. after all, you were the one who had decided to neglect studying for an exam all to work on some stupid art project instead. “just a day in the life.” you mumbled, eyes focusing on the laptop screen in front of you, the blue light illuminating the darkness of your dorm, casting dark shadows onto the white carpeted floor.

sighing, you shut your laptop closed and flopped back onto your bed in defeat, head softly hitting your pillow. there was no use in fighting sleep, after all, you could barely focus and dawn was drawing near, and soon you would have to trek across campus at exactly six a.m. for your early morning history lecture. sleep soon took over and all thoughts of studying and the exam faded away as you drifted off into dreamland.

the next morning, you awoke to a soft knock on your door. groaning, you reluctantly got out of bed and went to answer it. to your surprise, it was jinyoung, dressed in an oversized white turtleneck, dark jeans, and loafers, holding two cups of warm coffee and a light blue paper bag. his soft black hair was adorably rumpled, and despite it being five a.m., jinyoung still looked as gorgeous as ever, which you envied. “oh, hi jinyoung. what are you doing here?” you asked, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “well, i figured you were up late last night again and i dropped by the cafe down the street, and i thought i’d just come by and give you some coffee. hopefully it’ll give you some energy. oh, and i brought some sandwiches that my roommate made last night. trust me, it’s not poisonous. jaebeom hyung’s a lot of things, and one of them is the ability to make a great sandwich.” you chuckled as he handed over your cup of coffee and the paper bag. “thanks for the coffee and the food. i’ll see you later?” “i-i was wondering if you wanted to walk to class together? “i’d love to. oh, please come inside. it’s a bit messy, so don’t mind all the clutter. i haven’t had time to clean lately.” jinyoung shook his head. “it’s fine. jaebeom hyung’s the same. he doesn’t have time to clean because he’s always so busy with writing music and classes, so i do all the cleaning in the dorm.” you gestured for jinyoung to sit on the couch, to make himself feel comfortable, and then disappeared into your room to take a quick shower and put on a decent outfit.

as you and jinyoung walked across campus, he told you all about the song that jaebeom was working on for the upcoming showcase that your university put on every month. “wait, so he composes his own songs?” jinyoung nodded. “he does, its pretty impressive, if i’m being honest. he’s been writing songs ever since he could walk. jaebeom hyung wants to become a singer one day.” “ i wouldn’t be surprised if he does, he’s really talented.” you had seen jaebeom peforrm a few times, and his voice was smooth and angelic and unique, and you had no doubt that he would get recognized for his singing one day. “so, what’s been going on with you? haven’t seen you in a while.” “ah, well, my professors are bombarding me with assignments and i have an essay due next week, but it’s tolerable, i guess. been trying to take a breather every now and then, get my shit together, the usual. anwyays, enough about me, how have you been doing?”

you grimaced. “well, i haven’t been getting much sleep lately. i kinda got too preoccupied in finishing an art project that i forgot all the about the anatomy exam i’m supposed to take, and it may or may not be less than a week away. so, i’ve been cramming.” jinyoung sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “are you kdiding me, y/n?” you laughed nervously. “uh, oops?” jinyoung shook his head, letting out a defeated sigh. “how long has this been going on for?” “u-uh a f-few days?” you looked away, not wanting to see the frustrated and worried expression on jinyoung’s face, fighting back tears. ever since you had met jinyoung on a particular sunny day last summer, the two of you had gone through a lot together, from comforting each other after breakups to taking care of each other when one of you was drunk. you hated making jinyoung worry, as he had enough to deal with, and you didn’t want to burden him. “why didn’t you tell me you were having a hard time?” he asked, and you forced yourself to look at him, instantly regretting it. his gorgeous brown eyes were filled with concern and a worried frown was set upon his perfect lips, and you immediately felt as if you had been stabbed in the gut. “i-im sorry,i just didn’t want to be a burden.” you mumbled, trying to hold back tears. before you knew it, you were engulfed in a hug, strong arms wrapping around you, holding you tight. you felt jinyoung rub comforting circles on your back, and that alone was enough for you to break down, crying into the soft fabric of his sweater. all the pent up stress you had been holding in was finally let out, and jinyoung just held you, not uttering a single word, listening to your soft sobs. after your tears had subsided, you pulled away, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand, sniffling. “s-sorry about your sweater.” jinyoung waved away your apology. “don’t worry about it, i’m not gonna freeze to death just because you got tears on it.”

“anyways, i’m sorry for not telling you.” “it’s ok, but y/n, please know that i’m always here for you and that you’re never a burden.” you felt your heart ache at how sincere he sounded, and despite his reassurances, you still felt extremely guilty for keeping your feelings locked away.

“i’m a phonecall or a text away, remember that. i’m always here for you, you know that, right?” you nodded. “thank you, jinyoung.” “no need to thank me, y/n.”

after class, you were feeling a bit better, as you had finally sought help from your classmates on the upcoming exam, and they had given you an overwhelming amount of notes, all of which were extremely detailed and well-written. and, as you were walking towards your dorm, you heard a familiar voice call out to you. turning, you saw im jaebeom, music major and jinyoung’s roommate, running towards you, a white envelope in his hand. “hey, you’re y/n, right?” he asked once he caught up to you, a bit breathless. “yeah, why?” jaebeom seemed to brighten at this, eyes turning into crescents as he smiled, gently placing the envelope in your hand. “jinyoung wanted me to give this to you. he’s in the library, working on an essay if you want to see him.” before you could say anything, jaebeom gave you a small wave before walking off to the other side of campus, leaving you speechless. what just happened? you thought as you opened the envelope, careful not to rip it. inside was a delicate piece of paper, with jinyoung’s familiar looping script written all over it.

“dear y/n, ever since we met, i’ve always thought you were bright. for example, your smile. your smile practically lights up your face and makes my heartbeat a little faster. i’m aware this is quite cheesy, but its true. ever since we met, you have been the brightest person in my world, and the one girl who has managed to break down these walls i’ve kept around me for so long. before i met you, i didn’t know what love was, or rather, why people bothered with it. but, that all changed when i laid eyes on you. you were the most stunning girl i had ever seen, let alone meet, and when you said”hi, my name’s y/n”, i felt my world turn upside down, but, in a good way. you were the person who showed me that it’s ok to love. you also showed me how beautiful love can be. it doesn’t have to be destructive or painful or terrifying. love can be exciting and thrilling and life-changing. even though i’m a literature major and have written more essays than i can count, i seem to struggle with words whenever i’m around you, thus why i’m putting my feelings on paper. i like you, a lot. i’ve liked you ever since you bumped into me on that fateful day, you were the one who has managed to sweep me off my feet, quite literally, i might add, and though i am awkward and clumsy and not as mysterious and alluring as jaebeom hyung, i do have some worth. anyways, please meet me in the library after you read this, and if you don’t, then i know that you don’t feel the same. it’s ok if you don’t, but i just wanted to get this off my chest.

sincerely,

park jinyoung

you felt tears prick the back of your eyes as you practically ran to the library, your heart aching. you didn’t know jinyoung felt that way about you, and you were so happy that he felt the same. you had liked him since the beginning, and you had fallen in love with his smile and all of his quirks. jinyoung was easily one of the most attractive guys on campus, with perfect eyebrows, a cute nose, perfectly sculpted cheekbones, gorgeous brown eyes, and one ot the prettiest smiles you had ever seen. his smile was stunning and never failed to take your breath away, eyes crinkling at the corners,perfect white teeth on display. his laugh was endearing and a sound that you would never get tired of hearing. on top of all that, he had a heart of gold, and was unfailingly kind and polite towards anyone, and also very selfless and humble.

as soon as you arrived in the library, you looked around for jinyoung, and immediately spotted him at a table near the back, typing on his laptop, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. you rushed over to him, heart beating wildly in your chest, and cleared your throat, causing him to look up from his laptop in surprise. “y/n?” he asked, practically scrambling off the chair he’d been sitting on, gently grabbing ahold of your wrist. “what’s wrong? did something happen?” you took a deep breath and grabbed ahold of his sweater, the fabric bunching up in your hands, pulling him towards you and kissing him. you felt him jump a bit in surprise, but he quickly reciprocated the kiss, wrapping his arms around you. the kiss was short and sweet, but you enjoyed every minute of it. when you pulled away, a faint shade of pink had settled across jinyoung’s face. “i-i never knew you were so bold, y/n.” he teased, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled. “i didn’t either, but i had to do it before i chickened out.” “so, does that mean you like me?” you fought the urge to roll your eyes. “yes, of course, jinyoung. i don’t just go up to random guys on campus and kiss them you know.” “i-i just wanted to make sure.” “ah, you’re so cute, jinyoung.” “s-shut up. i’m not cute.” “hmm, yes you are.” “anyways, will you be my girlfriend, then?” “well, considering that i just kissed the hell out of you in the middle of a library, i think it’d be foolish if we weren’t dating after that, so yes, yes i will.”

a/n: hehe jinyoung drabble done!! i hope you all enjoyed this lengthy drabble!! i have two more got7 drabbles to write/post and then i will go back to my planned bts ones :) again, this drabble is dedicated to cara, aka @yongcherie one of my favorite humans ever (sends kisses and hugs) ily angel 💞💞and this is also dedicated to my sister issy aka @taeramisu bc i love her and she’s the one of the loveliest angels ever💖

#mine #not bts #got7

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markleesthighs · 5 years

Text

Black Mamba | Chapter 4

Pairings: Reader x Mark Lee, Reader x Hendery, Reader x Jaehyun, feat. ot21

Genre: NCT mafia!au, angst, fluff, light smut (suggestive), comical

Warnings: flashbacks, mentions of blood

Words: 2.91k

【 ❶ ❷ ❸ ➃ ❺ ❻ ❼】

Chapter 4 - Behind the Mask

Seoul, Korea, 2023

That night when you fell asleep, you noticed your phone kept buzzing, and it kept waking you up. You rubbed your eyes and blinded yourself with your phone while trying to see who was trying to text you at this hour. It was Taeyong. Apparently, there is an emergency assassination and could only be executed tonight.

Taeyong explained that you would be offered ₩4,700,000,000 for killing their main rivals in the area. Taeyong found out and noticed you were doing more assassinations recently and figured you would be up for it. You grabbed some death wish coffee, and accepted the offer, got your assassination suit along with your required weapons needed for killing, distracting, and escaping. You tucked your hair into your suit and took the elevator down into the garage. You got on your motorbike and drove to the other mansion on the opposite side of the city.

You had turned on the invisibility feature on your motorbike and put on your mask with high tech glasses built-in for optimal safety. You had shut down their security and cautiously avoid traps and mines scattered on their yard. You had to kill Jinyoung, a right-hand man of the rival gang GOT7, who had recently stolen drug deals and cargo from our suppliers. Knowing he is a right-hand man, it would not be a shock to your he didn’t have the second-best defenses in the entire mansion.

You broke in through the skylight in their living room and cascaded down on a rope, landing like a feather on the ground. You had shut down their security cameras and blended in with the dark shadows. You had forgotten to ask Taeyong the location of Jinyoung, so you had to figure it out quickly before their tech team blasts the alarm, send emergency spotlights, and guard dogs along your way. Luckily, your suit also had an invisibility feature and trapped your smell within the suit, finding no way to track you. It also did not track or allow finger and footprints, and all of your weapons could not be traced since they were all custom made.

You remembered a memory of your when you were little, your dad or your brother would always find you when playing hide and seek. When you got older you noticed it was one of the poems in the book he gave you, it was how you can track down anyone in an area when they are hiding. You mumbled it to yourself.

They will hide, but I will seek

Find them without a little squeak

Draw a path to their location

And follow it without frustration

Reveal to me where they lie

Shoot my desire into my eye

You felt your eyes glow and you saw a path of footsteps light up a light red, and you followed it through the mansion. You stopped at the door and used your x-ray goggles to see that he was in the shower, the optimal time to sneak in. You opened and lightly closed the door and hid in his closet, preparing your attack. You heard footsteps towards the closet, and you jumped out and muffled his voice while you held him tight when he was struggling to get you off of him. You shot his chest, and blood started to go everywhere.

Your suit cleaned itself with blood and sprayed itself with hydrogen peroxide. It also was invincible to liquid of any kind including blood. You were used to seeing this and have seen worse. You suddenly saw your payment loaded into your account and you left him in his towel with blood spewing out of his chest. You walked out of the bedroom and climbed up your rope, and when you reached the top of the skylight, the alarm went off, meaning you had about a 5-10 minute time frame to escape.

You jumped from roof to roof on their mansion and dived into the garden fountain near where you hid your bike. You ran through the trees and bushes to find your bike. You revved up the engine and stunt jumped over their gate while you saw a bunch of guards and dogs chasing you. You drove off and was never to be caught by them for the rest of the night.

You parked your bike in the garage and was about to go to bed when you heard a voice talking in the living room.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Why do you care?”

It was a/n and Mark, it sounded like they were having an argument, hey, eavesdropping wouldn’t hurt.

“Why don’t you trust me?”

“I’ve seen the way you look at her.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You look at her every time she laughs, and it looks like you want her instead of me!”

“This is ridiculous! What crazy person put that idea in your head?!”

“I’m not THAT dumb Mark.”

“We are JUST FRIENDS how many times do I have to tell you?”

“Fine, then answer my question. Have you ever loved her?”

You realized they were talking about you and was awaiting Mark’s response to the question.

“…no. I never loved her. I only love you.”

a/n sighed and sat next to Mark

“Really?”

“Really.”

They then kissed and started to make out. Your eyes were getting foggy, and the tears were starting to build up. Did he ever love you? Was this all just a game and a mistake? You couldn’t take it anymore. You ran back down into the garage and got on your motorbike and drove to Incheon. You drove and drove until the tears stopped, but they kept coming.

You finally made it to Eurwangni beach, and you took off your boots and walked on the sand. It hugged your feet softly as you walked on it. It was cold, not hot, it was quiet, not loud, and it was peaceful, not chaotic. You walked and sat on a big lifeguard seat and watched the waves as they came in and out of the sand. When you needed to be alone, you went to be one with the elements, in the forest, beach, or even a pond in the park. The stars and moon reflected in the water, as you wondered how you are still not over Mark.

You and Mark used to come here after long days of work, or if you both got lucky, came here on vacation. Mark called it a retreat for you two, so you could come up with new ideas with Mark without being distracted by the others, You remember him chasing the seagulls and trying to impress you at the beach. There was one time he tried to build you a sandcastle, only for it to be washed away by the water.

He asked you to bury him in the sand, and once he was buried you left him there, and he started to scream for an eternity before he gave up and begged you to dig him out. He also spun you around in the water, letting the salty droplets fall on each other’s skin.

Mark complained about the sea a lot how it was cold and dirty when five minutes later, he was running into the sea chasing a tiny fish. You also both cuddled on the beach while reading or in your rented beach house you both would watch the sunset until you fell asleep and he would have to carry you into the bed and tuck you in. You felt like crying, even more, remembering how happy you were here, and now you can’t get any of it back.

Taeyong came down the staircase to notice Mark and a/n still making out and coughed in their presence. They both stopped and blushed as they sat on the couch in embarrassment.

“You haven’t seen y/n, have you?” Taeyong asked

“No, why?” Mark answered

“I sent her on a mission about an hour ago, and she hasn’t come back?”

“That’s odd she’s usually done around 30-45 minutes.”

“A maid checked her room and said she wasn’t in there.”

“Maybe she’s in the bathhouses?”

“No, I sent a maid and other members to search the mansion, and she’s not here.”

Everyone started looking for you and called you, but you didn’t answer, and your tracking device was off. Another hour passed, and you still did not come back. Panic started to settle in, and members were getting freaked out. Mark also sent members to search for you in the area, but they did not find you.

People working undercover for NCT also reported nothing, all the other members started to freak out. Hendery was rapidly spamming your phone, and Jaehyun looked like he wanted to cry. Donghyuck was already crying about how he would not be able to test your weapons anymore, and Taeil was getting ready to write your obituary.

Taeyong was acting calm and strategic when really he was blaming himself for letting you go on such a dangerous mission. A/n looked mildly concerned, mainly focusing on how Mark is reacting, who is silently thinking about where you could be, and debating the possibility that you did fail your mission. You have a 100% success rate, so Mark knew you were alive and not kidnapped to be held for ransom.

“I know where she is.”

Mark immediately got up and ran to the garage before a/n or anyone could ask or stop him. He got his motorbike and rode all the way to Eurwangni beach to go find you. Mark parked his bike and saw you, in your usual spot, on the lifeguard chair. He took off his shoes and walked towards you. He found you still in your assassination suit looking into the distance, with no emotion.

“Hey, what are you doing up there?”

Mark snapped you out of your trance as you looked at him and looked back into the distance. Mark climbed up and sat next to you looking at your face trying to figure things out.

“Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah I just needed some fresh air after my assassination.”

“Did everything go, okay?”

“Yeah, i-its just been a while.”

Then there was an awkward silence. Mark knew you were lying, and you knew Mark came here out of panic and guilt, not because of any feelings towards you. You both looked into the dark ocean with the moon and stars reflecting in its water. You finally decided to break the silence, mainly because you wanted to go home, and you were cold.

“Are you happy?”

Mark looked at you suddenly and was confused by what you meant by that. You looked away in embarrassment and started to fiddle with your fingers while still talking.

“a/n. Are you happy with her?”

Mark scratched the back of his neck and looked embarrassed.

“Yeah, she…makes me very happy, I…”

You waited for Mark to finish, but he didn’t seem like he wanted to. There were guilt and sadness in his eyes.

“I…love…”

“her.”

To you, it hurt, but to Mark, it was something forced out of his mouth. It didn’t seem as genuine as he thought it was. He didn’t know why, but in front of you, he couldn’t say it as heartfelt as usual. Little did he know in his head, he wanted to say you instead of her so much, but for some reason, he had to choke it out of him to say “her.” You could burst into tears right now, you didn’t want to confront him if he said if he loved you, because you knew the answer. It wasn’t something to be worried about anymore. He’s moved on and happy, that’s all you had hoped for him. You didn’t care if he didn’t like her all you wanted was for him to be happy. You just wanted her to treat her as well as you did, or heck maybe even better than you. At this point, you just wanted to go home. It was starting to get cold, and you wanted to curl up in your bed watching dramas until you fall asleep.

“Let’s go home.”

Mark and you started to climb down when you touched the sand, your hands started to rub your shoulders and arms, you were freezing. Mark saw this and nonchalantly put his jacket over your shoulders revealing a black tank top he hands underneath, showing his NCT tattoo underneath his rib.

You put on his jacket that still smelled like cigarettes and his musk. You missed that smell, but you know you would never keep it forever. The burn marks and blood stains on it were still evident, and the zipper was broken as usual. Mark’s clothes were always bigger on you, and it was quite baggy. The pockets still fit your hands and felt warm, as the smooth leather touched your hands. You both got on your motorbikes and rode as you felt Mark’s jacket to flutter in the wind, as the moon shone brighter than it ever did.

You both arrived in the garage and parked your bikes, you and Mark walked up the stairs to see everyone awaiting your arrival in the living room. They all turned hearing your boots clicking, and they all screamed and ran to hug you, except a/n. Mark walked towards her, and she instantly smiled while everyone else was hugging you and slapping your back. Once they all cleared, a/n looked at you, seeing that you still had Mark’s jacket on and the room fell silent. A stalemate had occurred, and everyone was looking. You just calmly took off Mark’s jacket and gave it back to him saying a simple ‘thank you’ and left to go back upstairs to your room.

After a long shower, you heard a knock on your door.

“One minute!”

You quickly got dressed in a t-shirt and shorts as you opened the door to see Hendery.

“y/n! are you okay?!”

“Yeah, why?”

You both sat down on your bed, looking out the balcony window.

“I-I was just worried about you.”

“Why would you be worried about me?”

“I was afraid you were going to run away and find another group to be with.”

“I would never trade you idiots for anyone else.”

Hendery laughed, missing your humor, you both haven’t talked in a while.

“I was wondering if you wanted to attend the ball with me.”

“Really?”

“Y-yeah as f-friends?”

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“Y-ea-“

Before he could be finished, you pecked him on the cheek.

“I’ll go as your date stupid.”

He blushed and touched his cheek. He smiled and hugged you, which felt warm and comforting. You fell asleep feeling giddy as ever. You haven’t felt good to go to bed to be excited for tomorrow in a long time. You were ready to run the world tomorrow. You fell asleep with dreams no one could imagine they were no longer nightmares in your head. They were not dark anymore. You were in flower fields instead of caves, running through the daisies, watching butterflies fly around you.

The next morning you woke up feeling fantastic, you danced around while cooking breakfast, and none of the guys knew why you were such in a good mood. You let Donghyuck test out all of your latest weapons and gadgets for the ball tonight, and you bought lunch for all the trainees.

Soon time flew, and you were done with the workday. It was cut short due to the ball, so everyone could prepare to get changed. You dashed up to your bedroom to find your dress, maids, makeup artists, fashion designer assistants, and butlers. You walked in to get your makeup done, complementing your outfit. At the same time, they also braided and curled your hair. Once you were done, you were led onto a platform with a mirror, and everyone was helping you get the dress on, since it was heavy, and had a tight catsuit underneath it. You had a corset as well, and you felt the maids pulling to make your waist smaller.

They finally finished with your corset tying it with a bow and putting finishing touches on your dress. Then you had to accessorize, you had earrings, necklaces, bracelets, and rings all adorned on you with the finest jewels. You got on your heels, gloves, and fur coat on as a butler walked you down the staircase to where you met your eyes with Hendery waiting for you. He smiled as you delicately walked down the marble stairs until Hendery took your hand.

“You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“You didn’t need all of this, you would still look beautiful.”

You blushed at his words as you both walked to the door opened by the maids. He held and helped you down the stairs again and held your dress up so you would not trip and it would not get dirty. A butler opened the door for you, and you looked a little nervous, but Hendery rubbed the top of your hand, giving you some reassurance.

“Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

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fantastic-bby · 4 years

Text

Left Behind

Pairing: (f)reader x Jinyoung

Word count: 6.4k

Genre: Ghost!Jinyoung, Angst

Summary: Jinyoung has spent years alone in the abandoned house his soul had been tied to. After a living soul steps into the house to explore, he asks for her help in which she agrees and ends up uncovering what he had to unfortunately leave behind.

Warnings: Death, suicide, murder, grieving.

“Don’t leave me!” You called out as you watched your so called best friend and flatmate dash out of the house, leaving you all alone. You grumble out curses under your breath as you make the brave decision to continue exploring this abandoned - also rumoured to be haunted - house.

The inside is as dilapidated as the outside looks and the rotting wood creaks under your footsteps as you make your way further into the house with your phone flashlight guiding your way through the dimly lit building.

It was Felix’s idea to explore it and yet he was the one who abandoned you the moment he stepped into the house. You were going to make your point that the house was not haunted and that it was just creepy since it had been abandoned for so long.

You make your way up the stairs after finding nothing more to explore on the lower ground and the cracked steps creak even louder than the floor does as you carefully climb them.

To your dismay, the last step broke under your foot with a loud crack and you let out a yelp as you throw yourself to the ground of the second floor; preventing yourself from falling through the wood.

You look back at the broken wood with wide eyes only to see, not just one, but three of the steps broken through with the sound of wood hitting the ground below echoing throughout the house.

You pick yourself up off the ground and curse Felix silently once again as you brush yourself off and pick up your phone off of the ground to continue your exploration.

To your conclusion, the house was not haunted. It was just creepy. You enter one of the rooms that seemingly used to be a child’s room by the way the bed was small and yellowing paper of old drawing hung from the peeling walls.

The window was shattered and vines were growing into the room, hanging from the ceiling where a chunk of the wood was missing, exposing the room to the sunlight.

You put your phone away since most of the upper part of the house had holes and it allowed more light into the house compared to the lower half. Stepping into one of the other rooms, it looked like it probably belonged to one of the older people that lived there. A keyboard was sitting on the broken desk, the walls were holding broken picture frames and the floor had quite the hole in it.

You avoided the hole and picked up the dusty keyboard, turning it on, you were surprised it was still working. You pressed on one of the keys and let out a scream, almost throwing the keyboard out of the window when you heard a voice speak up.

“Don’t touch that.” You snapped your head to the doorway to see a man glaring at you. You pushed the keyboard off of your lap and quickly stood up, eyes wide with shock and your mind unable to form coherent words as you stared at him.

You watched as he picked up the keyboard and placed it back on the table, grumbling something under his breath before he turned to you, “What are you doing? This house is haunted. I’m proof of it.” He snapped at you as he gestured to his translucent being.

“You’re a ghost?” You questioned, but your voice came out smaller than you intended it to. He raised an eyebrow at you,

“Is it not obvious?” His voice was laced with annoyance, “You can leave saying you saw a ghost.” He said as he waved his hand and turned around, his being disappearing.

“Hey, wait!” You called back, watching as he reappeared, leaning against the doorway and crossing his arms,

“What?” He grumbled.

“How long have you been here?” You asked, the initial feeling of fear fading away and quickly being replaced with curiosity for the ghost.

“I can’t remember. But it’s been more than ten years.” He shrugged, “Why?”

“Just curious.” You shrug as well, “I’ve never really found ghosts to be scary. Now that I’m standing in front of one, I’m still not exactly scared.” You scan his being. He didn’t look old at all. His brown hair was tousled and sitting right on his eyebrows, almost covering his beautifully brown eyes.

“You’re not scared of me?” He asked, his eyes going wide. When you shake your head he took a step closer, “Then, can you help me?” The cold and harsh demeanor he had put up was melting quickly as urgency was starting to take its place in his features.

“With what? Do I need to sell my soul or something?” You snort. He shook his head with a chuckle leaving his lips.

“Nothing of that sort, I’m not a demon.” He smiled at you. “I’m Jinyoung.” He extended his hand towards you, which you eyed skeptically.

“Wouldn’t my hand go through you?” You joke as you extend your hand, surprised when your hands meet with a warm touch rather than a cold one. “(Y/n).” You pull your hand away after shaking his, “So, what do I need to help you with?” You ask.

“I can’t leave this house until I remember how I died.” He stated. Your eyes widened at his statement, a sense of sympathy washing over you.

“You’ve been here more than ten years and that’s what’s keeping you here?” You asked. He nodded, clarifying the situation,

“If I find out how I died, I’ll be able to leave and get to the afterlife. If I don’t, I’ll be stuck here until I do.” He let out a sigh as he sat at the end of what you assumed used to be his bed. “Every time someone comes into the house, they run when they see me. That’s why I haven’t been able to leave.” He looked around the room before his eyes landed on you, “Since you aren’t scared of me, I might as well give it a shot, right?” He flashed a soft smile at you.

“If I’m supposed to be figuring out how you died, I need to know your full name.” You stated. He bit his lip as he thought for a moment,

“I can’t remember my full name.” He sighed out as he hung his head. You purse your lips as you stared at the wall in thought.

“Oh!” You exclaimed as a light bulb lit up in your head, “This used to be your room, right?” You question, watching as he nodded. “Then there has to be something in here that holds your personal information.”

“I can’t tell since I can’t actually touch any of my belongings.” He spoke as he stood up and made his way over to his desk. You let out a gasp when his translucent form went straight through the desk but confusion filled you as he knocked on the keyboard, “I can’t touch anything in this house other than walls, beds and my keyboard.” He moved back over to the bed and patted the dusty mattress.

You watched as Jinyoung sat on the mattress, “That’s weird.” You muttered out as you moved over to his desk, careful not to step in the hole in the floor as you forced open one of the drawers. A cloud of dust blew out when the drawer flew out with the amount of force you used to pull it open and it flew right through Jinyoung, smashing into the wall.

“Woah!” You both exclaimed in unison, watching the wood shatter and pile onto the mattress. Jinyoung turned to you with wide eyes before turning back to the mess of broken wood. You moved to the bed and carefully pushed through the pile before pulling out a small journal, “Do you remember this at all?” You asked as you brushed a spot beside him and sat down.

“Vaguely, maybe it was a diary.” He shrugged as memories of him writing into the journal started to fill his head. You opened the journal, careful not to tear open the pages from how fragile the paper was.

“They’re…” You trailed off as you carefully read the messy handwriting, “Lyrics.” You mutter out as you gently drag your hand across the edge of the page.

“Lyrics?” Jinyoung asked with furrowed brows as he took a closer look at the pages, “I wrote these?” He muttered out as you held the journal in front of him since he couldn’t hold it himself. “Oh, I did.” He leaned back slightly in surprise when he saw his signature at the bottom of the page.

“This was in 2017.” You pointed out when you saw the date at the bottom corner of the page.

“Wow, that was a really long time ago.” He chuckled to himself, “But I don’t seem to remember why I wrote these.” He pursed his lips.

“Do you remember any of your friends who are alive?” You asked him, a small bubble of hope filling your stomach that quickly popped when he shook his head.

“I can’t remember their names. I wish I did. I remember being so close to them, I remember us living together.” He muttered out sadly. You felt your heart wrench. He had spent all these years alone and only now had he managed to find someone willing to help him.

You watched as he hung his head, “I wonder whether they’re okay now. I wonder what they’re doing and whether they still think about me.” His words came out soft, his vulnerability showing through for the first time in years.

“Hey,” You put a hand on his back, causing him to look up at you with sad eyes, “We’ll figure this out, okay? I’m not giving up on you until I can set you free.” You gave him a reassuring smile. He looked at your smile, his dead heart filling with admiration,

“Thank you.”

»»————-　　————-««

“Does this look familiar?” You ask as you hold up an old picture that was sitting in one of his broken drawers. He’s standing beside a man that’s the same height as him, his hair is hidden under a black beanie and his muscular arm is slung over Jinyoung’s shoulder.

He eyes the photo before nodding, “I remember being close with this guy.” He points to the man he’s standing with in the picture.

“Any names popping up?” You questioned further. Over the past week or so you had been visiting the abandoned house to try and help Jinyoung figure out how he passed. So far, you have noticed that things that were familiar to him would bring back small bits of memory.

Jinyoung bit his lip for a moment as he thought about it but sadly shook his head, “There’s a J somewhere in there, but other than that, there’s not a full name in there.” He let out a sigh. You purse your lips and rummage through the drawer,

“We still haven’t been able to figure out your full name.” You mutter out as you pull out a set of music sheets, “But it seems that you were an idol.” You turn around and show him the messily written music tabs.

“I guess I was.” He nodded as he looked at that notes. His eyes shone for a moment before he pointed to the top, “I wrote this with the same guy in that picture.” He let out a soft gasp and turned to the picture sitting beside him, “We were in the same… group.” He whispered softly as memories started to fill his head. “Yes, we were in a group with five other people.” He nodded as he turned back to you with a wide smile.

“Progress!” You clapped excitedly. Relief bubbled in his stomach when he realised he was starting to remember more and more of his past life. Soon, he’ll be able to finally leave for the afterlife he had been restricted from for so many years. But, wait, why was he sad?

He looked up at the way you were rummaging through more of his stuff, prying open drawers and pulling chests out from under his bed. Ah, you were making him sad. But why?

“Jinyoung, look,” Your voice brought him back to reality, making him turn to look at you where you were crouching beside him and pulling out a tiny box from deep under his bed. You opened the dusty, pink box and opened it up only to pull out a stuffed toy with a tag tied to it’s ribbon. “‘To my favourite hyung. Happy birthday, Junior hyung.’” You read out the tag and showed him the stuffed toy.

“Oh, Yugyeom gave that to me on my 22nd birthday.” He stated proudly. Your eyes widened the moment the words left his mouth. “What?” He tilted his head in confusion before his lips parted in realisation, “Yugyeom… Who is that?” He furrowed his brows as he thought harder.

“Maybe a member of the group you were in?” You suggested as you flipped the tag over, hoping that maybe his full name would be there. You weren’t surprised when it was just a nickname because who writes full names when they’re close and have nicknames?

“I think he was.” Jinyoung nodded, looking at the stuffed toy, “He was the youngest.” He muttered out. You bit your lip as you watched the way he desperately wracked his brain in hopes of bringing in more memories. You looked back into the box and found a tiny dog tag sitting at the bottom of the box. You pulled out the metal necklace and held it in front of your face as you read the indented metal,

“It’s a date.” You muttered out as you held it in front of Jinyoung’s face. He leaned closer and read the numbers before nodding,

“That’s the date we debuted.” He muttered out as he continued to read the other numbers on the date, “Ah! It’s all of our birthdays!” He excitedly tried to reach out for the dog tag but his smile quickly dropped when his hand went straight through it. His heart shattered when he remembered why you were looking through his stuff in the first place and a tear rolled down his cheek. “Oh my god,” He choked out.

“Jinyoung…” You whispered, your own heart cracking as you watched his lip tremble. He held his head in his hands,

“Oh my god,” His voice came out strangled, his hands gripping his hair tightly as he started sobbing. You quickly put the dog tag down and pull him into your arms, his head resting on your shoulder as he grips you as though his life depended on it; ironic. “(Y/n), t-they must be h-h-hurting so much.” He sobbed out. You were slightly surprised when you could feel his tears starting to soak your sweater.

You rubbed his back gently to soothe him while you yourself was on the verge of tears. The pain you had for this ghost was growing with every day that you spent with him. You wanted to set him free to end his pain. Funny how he probably thought whatever pain he had would’ve ended when he died but instead was left with this aftermath, waiting for the day someone could help release him.

“Don’t worry,” You soothed, rocking him back and forth as he continued to cry on your shoulder, “We’ll find out what happened to you and we’ll set you free, okay?” You pulled away to cup his face, brushing away his tears with your thumb as you gave him a reassuring smile. He nodded, his bloodshot eyes looking deeply into yours,

“T-Thank you, (Y/n).” He sniffled out as you pulled him down to lay on his bed, his head resting beside yours as you muttered out sweet nothings to calm him down. He continued to let out soft hiccups and sniffles as he finally managed to catch his breath. You let him rest with his head resting on your chest, your hands gently rubbing his back and running through his surprisingly soft hair.

Your eyes fluttered open to see Jinyoung standing at the end of the bed cross-legged as he continued to stare at the dog tags. You peaked out of the window and your eyes widened when you saw the sun starting to rise. You quickly sat up, startling him in the process as you scrambled to check your phone only to see multiple miss calls from Felix.

“Shit, my flatmate!” You groan out as you dial his number with Jinyoung watching.

“(Y/n)!” Felix’s voice exclaims after a few rings, “Where the hell have you been?! I was just about to make a police report!” He scolded you.

“Sorry, Lix, I was spending time with a friend of mine.” You apologised sheepishly with your eyes shut. You hear silence from his end.

“Is it a guy?” He questioned after a bit. “If it is, next time you’re going to be with him, tell me so I don’t have a goddamn heart attack!” His tone raised once again.

“Okay! I’m sorry! I might come home late today, though. But don’t have dinner without me unless I’m really late.” You told him, knowing he was rolling his eyes and nodding.

“Fine, but you better come home tonight. I’m ordering jjajangmyeon and if you’re not home, I’m eating both portions.” He grumbled before hanging up. You sucked in a breath through your teeth. Felix only ordered jjajangmyeon when he was sad which is probably why he’s upset you didn’t come home the night before.

“Is your flatmate okay?” Jinyoung asked when he saw you space out for a moment. You snapped back to reality and nodded at him,

“I think he’s just worried. He’ll be fine.” You chuckled as you sat up and moved around the room to see if you could find anything useful.

“You should go home, (Y/n).” Jinyoung’s statement made you turn around to look at him. “You haven’t eaten anything since you came to the house.” He reminded you. You purse your lips for a moment before shaking your head,

“It’s okay, Jinyoung. I wanna help you and I don’t feel like wasting any time.” You muttered out as you moved back to the bed and opened your backpack, pulling out a bag of chips, “I brought snacks in case I got hungry.” You shrug, sighing when his expression turned more stern.

“(Y/n),” He sighed out, “Promise me you’ll at least go home tonight and eat with your flatmate.”

“Okay, I’ll go home tonight.” You sighed out, “But for now, I’m going to help find more information. If I can find your full name, I can google you since you seemed to have been part of an idol group.” You state as you proceed to rummaging through an old dresser. Your hands feel around the clothes before you feel the edge of a box and pull it out.

You placed the box on the floor and sit in front of it as you open it. Your hands reached inside the crimped crepe paper that filled the box and pulled out a picture frame that seemed to be in perfect condition since it had been kept away from the outside world.

“What is that?” Jinyoung questioned when he saw you lift the picture frame. You looked at the picture of Jinyoung and six other men - presumably his idol group - before flipping the picture to read what was written on the back.

“Happy 6th anniversary, from ahgase.” You read out as you held the frame in front of him. “Who’s ahgase?” You asked, watching as he read the message. You flipped the frame to show him the picture,

“This is my group.” He smiled, his excitement starting to build, “We called our fans ahgase, their full fandom name sounds like ahgase, so we made their logo a green bird because our colour was green.” He bit his lip as he smiled and looked at the picture of him and his friends. “I can’t remember their names, but we had a really good time while it lasted.” He smiled sadly and let out an exhale through his nostrils, “I hope they’re okay.”

You sat beside him and placed your hand on his back, “At least now we know the name of your fandom. It’ll be easier to figure it out.” You smiled gently at him, a smile which he reciprocated.

You pulled your phone out and started googling the fandom, quickly finding information on the group Jinyoung used to be apart of.

“GOT7?” You turn to him with questioning eyes. He stared at you for a moment before recognition started to fill his eyes and he quickly nodded,

“Yeah!” He exclaimed with a wide smile on his face, “GOT7! That’s the name of my group!” He moved closer to you to look at your phone. “That’s me.” He smiled as he pointed at himself in the group photo you were looking at.

“Park Jinyoung? That’s your full name?” You asked as you looked at him. He nodded,

“Yeah, Park Jinyoung. Is there anything on there talking about my death?” He asked as he continued to look at the picture of his group. You scrolled around for a while, your mind getting more and more confused as you did.

“There’s nothing here describing your death.” You turned up to look at him with your brows furrowed. He looked at you in confusion,

“Really?” He questioned. You shook your head and opened up the fifth article you were reading,

“Park Jinyoung has passed away.” You read out loud, “There’s no date, there’s no description, there’s no information on how they found you.” You clarified as you opened two more articles. He looked back down at your phone before sitting back as he thought about it. “Do you remember anything?” He shook his head. “Is there anyway I can contact your friends? It doesn’t seem like they stayed active after you passed.” You mentioned as you continued to read of the aftermath of his passing.

Jinyoung thought about it for a moment, “Jackson lives in Seoul.” He muttered out, “You have to take six stops from the station in Gangnam. Jamsil station. I can tell you the address before I forget again so write it down.” He turned to you, his eyes looking frantic. You nodded and quickly opened up your notes to write down the address of his friend.

“Wait, why would you forget?” You ask after you finish writing down the address. Jinyoung took a deep breath as he leaned back on his arms and turned to the wall,

“Everyday, I forget things. The longer I stay here, the more days I forget. I actually forgot what happened last night if you hadn’t stayed over.” He sighed out, “I would have forgotten who you were if you didn’t come back.” He turned to you, “I forget you everyday, but every time I see you, I remember everything. Then, I forget again when I fall asleep.”

Your lips parted the more he spoke. “You forget me everyday?” You asked. He nodded sadly,

“If you were to leave and just not come back, I would forget everything the moment the sun starts to rise. I wouldn’t even remember that you were helping me. I would forget everything. I would even forget all of these.” He gestured to the memories that held what was left of his past life, “But whenever I see them, I get happy and excited because it’s like looking back at memories, but then, I get sad again because I remember that I left them.” He looked away from you, teeth catching his bottom lip to stop it from trembling.

“I’ll be back in two days. Tomorrow I’ll go to your friend’s place and see if he will tell me anything.” You pulled his hand onto your lap and gently brushed over his knuckles, “I promise I’ll set you free.” You smiled at him.

He turned to your hands before looking up at you, taking a deep breath, “I believe you.” He smiled. “I think somehow I’m falling in love with you.” He breathed out a chuckle as he looked down at your hands, his thumb gently brushing the skin of your palm. “I think I’m just lonely.” He joked. You watched the way his thumb glided across your skin, a warm feeling filling your heart.

“Maybe.” You chuckled as well, tucking your hair behind your ear, “Maybe we’re both just lonely.” You breath out a chuckle as you lift your head to look at him. His eyes met yours and he lifted his head to cup your cheek,

“Don’t be too sad when I’m gone.” He muttered out as his thumb ran along your cheekbone, “Unlike me, you’ll have to remember me. I don’t want you to be sad when I have to leave.”

“I promise.” You nodded, raising your hand to hold his, “I’ll be left behind with happy memories. I’ll cherish them.” You smiled.

»»————-　　————-««

You stood nervously in the hallway, your finger raising to press the doorbell before dropping for the third time as you stood outside of the address you took down from Jinyoung. What if this wasn’t Jackson’s apartment anymore? Or were you just hesitant to let Jinyoung go?

Maybe you could convince him to stay a find a way to get him tied to your apartment instead. Wait, no, that’s a terrible idea and it would make Felix cry.

“He deserves to go.” You whisper to yourself as you raised your finger and pressed the doorbell. There was rustling from inside the apartment - and a loud thud that scared you for a moment - before the door swung open. It was not the Jackson Jinyoung was telling you about from the pictures you found. “Jackson?” You question hesitantly.

The man shakes his head, “Who are you?” He asked as he crossed his arms and lean against the doorway, his eyes scanning you skeptically.

“I used to be a friend of Jinyoung, but he disappeared after a while. I thought maybe I’d find him here.” You made up the excuse with Jinyoung the day before. He knew very well that if you just walked in asking about details of his passing, his friends would kick you out thinking you were a reporter or a sasaeng.

The excuse worked as well as the two of you thought it would, the man who answered the door was more welcoming after hearing your reason and let you into the apartment,

“Jackson! There’s a girl here for you!” He called out as he closed the door. You turned around to him, awkwardly standing by his side and turned to him only to see him gesturing his head in the direction of the living room/

“Who?” Another voice called back out as footsteps approached you. The man that you recognised immediately as Jackson looked at you in confusion, “Who are you?” He questioned.

“I’m (Y/n). I was friends with Jinyoung a few years ago. Is he here?” You questioned. Wow, talk about a great actress; terrible situation but still. Jinyoung would praise you since he mentioned his acting career.

“Uh, no, he’s not.” He shook his head, glancing up at the man behind you. “Jinyoung passed away ten years ago.” He muttered out. You feigned shock and looked at him with wide eyes,

“What?” You questioned.

“Did you really not know?” The man behind you asked. You turned to him and shook your head.

“It makes sense. Even if she knew we were GOT7, there were barely any articles talking about it.” Jackson pointed out. “Uhh, come to the living room. We’ll tell you about it.” He nodded as he turned around and led you into the living room where another four men were climbing all over the couch and wrestling.

“Guys, there’s a guest.” The man who opened the door cleared his throat, immediately catching his friends’ attention. The two that were wrestling immediately came apart and the other two that were sitting on the couch turned around to face you.

“This is (Y/n). She used to know Jinyoung.” Jackson spoke up, “But she doesn’t know that Jinyoung passed.” The moment his words left his mouth, all their eyes widened as they turned their attention completely towards you.

“Really?” One of them questioned, his hands immediately putting his controller away and turning his full attention to you. You shook your head.

“None of the articles wrote about him because JYP asked them not to.” The one sitting next to him stated, “They didn’t even write how we found him.” He sighed out.

“Sit down, we’ll tell you what happened.” Jackson gestured to the sofa chair sitting next at the edge of the coffee table.

“Jaebeom hyung, maybe it’s time for that tea you keep trying to make us drink.” One of them suggested. You sat at the sofa chair and watched as the one who opened the door for you disappeared into the kitchen. Jackson took the spot on the couch closest to you after his two friends moved to make space,

“This is Youngjae,” He gestured to the one who mentioned the articles, “He’s the one who found Jinyoung. That’s Mark hyung and the two psychos wrestling behind the couch are BamBam and Yugyeom.” He introduced you to all of them, each of them giving you a small wave.

“We’re in our thirties and those two still act like they’re children.” Mark joked as he shot a glance at the two. Jaebeom returned to the living room with a tray holding a teapot and multiple mugs,

“Aish, that’s enough. You still play games like a teenager, don’t scold them for acting like children.” He snorted as he poured you a mug. “What we’re about to tell you hasn’t ever been let out of our group. But you don’t seem like a reporter or a fan of any kind, so we trust you.” He sat on the armrest of the couch beside Jackson.

Jackson turned to Youngjae, silently asking him to begin the story as Mark turned the TV off. Youngjae nodded at him and let out a sigh, “Jinyoung wasn’t gone when I got there. He was laying in the living room. I called an ambulance when I saw…” He trailed off, his eyes darting around the room anxiously. Mark rested his hand on Youngjae’s back to give him reassurance before he continued, “When I saw all the blood.”

Your heartbeat quickened at his words. There was a more sinister reasoning for Jinyoung’s passing, you already understood that from the tension that was starting to fill the room.

“Was it a…” You trailed off, hoping they would understand what you implying but Yugyeom shook his head,

“We know Jinyoung hyung. We know he wouldn’t… you know. At least not without any notes.” He pursed his lips as he turned to Youngjae, asking him to continue.

“I went over to give him his keyboard. He didn’t answer when I knocked on the door, which was already open, so I went in.” He let out a strangled sigh.

“He was taking care his younger cousin that weekend.” Mark continued for his friend who was progressively getting more and more distressed. “We don’t know what happened but she had killed him that night.” His eyes stared blankly at the coffee stable as he spoke, “All we know is that she had killed him, then she herself.”

“We asked JYP not to release any kind of information on it. We didn’t want Jinyoung to be remembered for that. We wanted him to be remembered as Park Jinyoung or Prince Jinyoung, the guy who was part of GOT7 and had amazing vocals and visuals.” Jaebeom sighed. You stared at them before you turned your attention to your hands, nervously picking the skin around your fingers,

“Do you ever feel like he’s still here?” You asked.

“We’d like to believe that he’s already passed on. We wouldn’t want him to be stuck here forever worrying about how we’d handle it.” Yugyeom piped in, “Jinyoung hyung always cared about us and he made sure we weren’t doing anything too stupid. I don’t want him to stay here if he can leave.” He chuckled softly.

“What are you going to do now that you know?” Jackson asked you.

“Was he buried in Seoul?” You questioned.

“His parents buried him in Changwon.” Youngjae shook his head, “If you want to visit him, we’ll send you an address of where the cemetery is.” He offered with a small smile on his face.

“Thank you.” You returned his smile sadly. You knew you were bound to visit his grave one day. Especially since you felt like he has connected with you more than anyone else which is funny since he’s a ghost.

“How did you know him?” Jaebeom asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“We used to talk every once in a while so I got worried. I asked one of our mutual friends and they led me here.” You shrugged.

“Well, you did come to the right place.” Jackson let out a sigh, “But we can’t give you anything else other than how he died.”

“We could tell you what his favourite snacks are, but if all you wanted to know is what happened to him then, that’s all we can say.” BamBam nodded.

“I think that’s all I needed to hear.” You let out a sigh as you realised that when tomorrow comes, you’d have to say goodbye to Jinyoung. “I know this is out of the blue but, if you wanted to say anything to him now, what would you?” You questioned when an idea popped into your head. “I can find a way to get this to him. I promise it won’t go anywhere.” You lifted your phone to suggest recording their messages.

The six of them exchanged glances before nodding, not really questioning what you meant by that. All of them agreed to just say what they wished for their late brother.

“Jinyoung-ah,” Jaebeom began, “I bet you’re snickering at us for being so emotional over you but we can’t help it.” He chuckled.

“Yeah, now that you’re gone, we don’t have a group mother anymore.” BamBam chuckled softly as well, “We miss you a lot, Jinyoung hyung.”

“We’re talking to a phone right now, you know? You didn’t even visit us!” Yugyeom jokes, doing his best to keep his joke as lighthearted as possible, “I wish you did. I know I would probably have a heart attack, but I would love to see you again even if it’s just for one second.” His smile saddened as he turned away from you, his hand wiping his cheek.

“Jinyoung-ah, I’m sorry I didn’t come earlier. If I did I might’ve been able to save you.” Youngjae’s voice came out soft and almost strangled, “If I knew what would’ve happened, I would’ve stayed over at your place and kept you company. Maybe I would’ve been able to stop your cousin.” He sighed out as he did his best to hold back his tears.

Jaebeom moved over to crouch in front of Youngjae to pull him into a hug. “Jinyoung-ah,” Jackson called out sadly, “We miss you a lot. We couldn’t continue as GOT7 together. It’s either seven or none, but we learned to move on because we knew you wouldn’t want us to be sad. Every year on your birthday we light a candle for you.” A tear rolled down Jackson’s cheek as he took a deep breath, “You’re always with us, Park Jinyoung. Always.”

You watched broken heartedly as they gathered together and hugged each other, tears escaping your eyes as you witnessed what was left of Jinyoung had to unwillingly leave behind.

“I miss him so much.” Jackson’s voice came out muffled with his head resting on Jaebeom’s shoulder,

“I know, Jackson. We all do.” He let out a shaky breath as he comforted his friends. You turned the recorder off and wiped your own tears,

“He was a really great guy.” You muttered out, unable to hold back your tears, “I just realised how much I miss him.” You breathed out a laugh, “I can’t believe I didn’t realise I’d miss him this much.”

“I don’t think anyone realises how much you miss someone until they’re actually gone.” Jackson smiled through his bloodshot eyes as he wiped his tears with the back of his hand, “I really hope he’s happy now.” His eyes moved to the ground.

“I’m sure he is.”

»»————-　　————-««

“Thank you for this, (Y/n).” Jinyoung wiped his tear streaked cheeks with the back of his hand. You played the recording of his friends to him and he burst into tears. You held him as he cried, your own heart preparing itself for his departure. You still hadn’t told him how he died, wanting him to listen to what his friends wanted to tell him before he would leave.

“Are you ready?” You asked. He nodded,

“I’ve been ready for years.” He took a deep breath and waited for you to tell him.

“Your cousin killed you. It was a gunshot, you died shortly after Youngjae found you.” You laid the death down simply, wanting him to remember more of it on his own. His eyes trailed to the ground for a moment before he gasped and lifted his head, his eyes glowing pure white.

“I-I remember,” He gasped out as his hands trailed up and rested on his chest. His body lifted off of the ground as he let out groans at the strange feeling starting to fill his ghostly body. “We got into a fight. She was upset I didn’t tell her Youngjae was coming over so she pulled out a gun she had stolen from my uncle and…” He trailed off as his eyes returned to normal and his feet returned to the ground, “She shot me in the chest three times before shooting herself in the head.” He murmured out, his eyes moving to look at you.

“So, what’s going to happen now?” You asked after a moment, your breathing getting heavy as you dreaded the moment he would disappear.

“I walk through the doorway and I never come back.” He stated, reaching out to hold your hand, “I can’t thank you enough for this, (Y/n). All I needed was for you to find out how I died but instead I gained your company and the ability to listen to my friends’ voices once again. Thank you.” He resisted the urge to kiss you, hold you, stay with you forever because once he would vanish, he would be gone forever.

“I’m glad I stayed. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have met you.” You smiled, holding back your tears as you feared that it would cause him to stay. You squeezed his hand, “I’ll keep you by my heart forever, Park Jinyoung.” You shakily spoke out, earning a teary smile from him. He pulled his hand away from yours and turned around, taking another deep breath before he walked towards the doorway,

“Goodbye, (Y/n) (Y/l/n).”

And he was gone.

111 notes · View notes

cottonblush · 5 years

Text

excalibur | ljn

❧ word count: 10,079

❧ genre: fluff because that’s literally all i know how to write lmao

❧ notes: the way that jeno is so pure and precious i couldn’t stop smiling when i wrote this,,, ugh HIS POWER! once again, tysm kp for the feedback! i hope this version is a lot better:)

❧ moodboard

The heat of the forge is something that used to bother you, but after spending almost a decade at Ulric’s Forge, your skin has developed into a shield of sorts. The heat of the thousand-degree flame no longer dries out your eyes and you can proudly say the sparks that fly off the forge feel no stronger than a bug bite. Over the years, you’ve developed into a strong and independent woman, or as strong and independent as a woman could get in such medieval times. You’ve gained the respect of most of the men at the forge, though it took walking into a sleeping dragon’s lair to convince the oldest blacksmith, Cedric, that you’re tough enough to make it at Ulric’s. The whole ordeal was worth it because not only did you gain respect, but also a family. The guys at the forge are people you can trust with your life, people who have your back. A specific instance is when your single father passed away during one of the many wars that swept the nation. You were only ten years old at the time, but your father worked at the forge and no one hesitated to bring you in and teach you the trade.

Speaking of which, your specialty is swords. You’ve always been fascinated with them and figure that if you could keep on developing better weapons, people would be able to defend themselves better and fewer people would die; fewer children would be left without their fathers. You’ve slowly amassed a reputation for making quite strong and dependable swords as well as new types of swords. You’ve actually been testing out designs for a curved sword and are currently working on one, hand repeatedly striking hot iron, when you’re interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat.

You look up from your work, eyes traveling across the figure standing in front of you. The young man, Na Jaemin, is a famous sorcerer who holds a lot of power in the kingdom. He also happens to be a close friend since birth. He’s squinting due to the immense heat coming from the burning coal, but even then you can see his pleading eyes and you can tell he’s about to ask you for a troublesome favor.

Your premonition is correct as Jaemin is asking you to make him a sword mere seconds later. It needs to be perfect, he says; if possible, it needs to be more than perfect. The weapon needs to be made out of the most durable material and has to be able to cut straight through stone. When you ask who it’s for⁠— Jaemin has never even touched a sword in his life and doesn’t plan on it since he fights with his “superior magical prowess"⁠— you’re told that the sword will be for the new king. Instantly, your brain comes up with a barrage of questions. Has the new king already been selected? Why do you have to be the one to make it? And realistically speaking, couldn’t Jaemin just conjure up one in the blink of an eye?

Jaemin answers all of your questions fast enough that you’d think he read your mind, but you know he didn’t because the two of you agreed he wouldn’t after he tried to once, found out about your first crush, and subsequently teased you about it for months on end, receiving a cold shoulder in return.

"I guess I should specify that it’s not just for the future king but for the selection of the future king. Of course, I could conjure a sword since I am that powerful, but I could only make a generic sword. You guys are the ones who can experiment with designs and materials. And before you complain, it has to be you. You might not be the best or most experienced, but there’s intention behind what you do. Your hopes and dreams are passed down into every single one of your creations. I can feel it. There’s no one else I know who would fit the job better.”

“Not even Johnny? He may only have two years of experience under his belt but he’s quite the prodigy when it comes to this kind of stuff.”

“Not even Johnny.”

You groan externally, but your insides are bubbling with excitement. You’ve never said no to a request unless you knew it was going to be used for something immoral. Plus, you’re sure the reward for this sword is quite hefty. However, you try to keep a serious façade because you know Johnny and Woojin would mock you by copying whatever sentiment you express except at a higher decibel. You place your hands on Jaemin’s shoulders, his smooth robe feeling strange and foreign under your rough, weathered palms, and steer him out of the forge. The smoke and heat are clearly starting to take a toll because once he gets outside, he wheezes so hard you would think he’s had weak lungs since birth.

“Leave it to me,” you say, hand coming up to wave him goodbye as you tell him you’ll give him an update after two weeks.

Returning to your forge, you spread out the coals, allowing them to cool down at least a little bit before turning your attention to the notebook in your bag. You pull out the old leather book and take a seat on a stool, propping your chin up on your hand and ignoring the dull pain of your elbow digging into your thigh. You flip to a new page, paper feeling slightly unpleasant against your hands that have had the moisture sucked out of them by the dry heat. Making a list of all of the possible metals you can use and the combinations you can try, you also draw in a column on the side and give each an individual score based on practicality, weight, cost, and durability. However, you don’t do any eliminating yet as you never know which metals you may need for the design you end up choosing.

You head out to talk to your suppliers, asking each if there are any new alloys that have been made or if any new materials have been discovered. Most say the same, scratching their chins and going down the same list of precious metals and steel mixes. You’ve just about given up hope and are walking back to the forge dejectedly, feet gently kicking up small clouds of dust along the rocky path. At the last minute, something catches your attention in the outermost corner of your peripheral vision. There’s a cloaked figure resting against one of the trees of the forest that borders the market. You don’t know why but it feels like the person is calling to you so you turn back, taking hesitant steps toward them.

“Excuse me,” you call out. “I’m looking for different precious metals and materials that can be used in a sword. They have to be really strong, though. Do you happen to know where I can get any? I already have a sufficient supply of iron so I’m not really looking for that.”

The voice that responds is just a little over a whisper, like a gentle breeze tickling the shell of your ear, but you can hear the response clearly, “I can get you what you need, but it’ll be pricey.”

Your eyes light up and you almost skip over to the mysterious figure, grabbing a hand to shake. The action startles the stranger, causing their shoulders to shoot up and the loose hood that covers their face to fall down behind them. A sharp breath escapes your mouth as your hand releases theirs and raises so your fingers are ghosting over your lips. Your soft petals are parted in shock from the sight before you, a light pink flush spilling over your cheeks. It turns out that this mysterious person is not an actual person, but a faerie. The young man before you is the first of his kind you have seen and it is truly a shame because he is breathtakingly beautiful in an understated type of way. His hair is a pink that appears softer than even the freshest of tulips and his ears are small, dainty, and pointed at the top.

“You’re a faerie,” you breath out, partly in shock but mostly in awe.

The faerie, who introduces himself as Renjun, does not try to deny it. He explains that his kind usually prefer to keep to themselves, but he has personally had an interest in humans for as long as he can remember. Renjun also adds that the metal that he has access to is something that only faeries know about, so it will truly be one of a kind in the human world.

When you ask him why he is so eager to offer up something that has been kept secret for so long, Renjun admits that he was spying on Jaemin earlier and happened to hear your conversation. He says that if he plays a part in making the future king’s sword, perhaps the ruler will offer them protection from any future enemies and faeries will finally be able to rejoin the human world. Overall, his explanation seems legitimate enough so you decide to make a deal. You’ll pay him as much as you can for it, and you’ll also find him someone who’s willing to show him around the world beyond the borders of Avalon.

In the meantime, you return to the forge and plan to test out different materials for the hilt of the sword and for new creations as well. As you hammer into different kinds of metals, you think to yourself with a soft smile that this really is something you can see yourself doing for the rest of your life. The aspect of discovering something new is something that you constantly yearn for and through this job, you’ll be able to meet new people and constantly learn new techniques.

You’re so lost in thought, the thick smoke wafting off the glowing hot coals also seeming to cloud your mind as well, that you don’t even notice that you have visitors. There are three men standing at the entrance, eyes drifting around and taking in their surroundings. They’re tall and lanky, disinterest seemingly tattooed onto each of their faces. The man in the middle starts to saunter around, perking a brow at anything that brings the slightest bit of interest. The other two that flank his sides walk over to one of the other blacksmiths in the forge, Jinyoung. Your eyes go back to the anvil you’re working on, noticing your steel bar has gone cold and you need to place it back in the flames.

The bar has regained its bright orange glow when you pull it out, aligning it against the surface of the anvil. You bring your hammer down several times, each hit precise and filled with purpose.

A voice interrupts you as you’re flattening out the steel rod in order to make a handle, “What are you making there, sweetheart?”

You grit your teeth at first, rolling your eyes and hoping if you ignore this guy then he’ll eventually leave you alone. Unfortunately, that’s not the case as he just begins to pester you even more.

“Are you sure you can handle that? Want a strong guy like me to help you out?”

Having had enough, you look up to the man and meet his eyes, this time striking down your hammer with an unnecessarily excessive amount of force. The irritating and unwanted visitor visibly stiffens, intimidated and surprised by your display of strength, and backs off. He walks backwards slowly, eyeing you warily as he rejoins his friends.

You can vaguely hear him saying, “Jinyoung, where did you guys find that weirdo? She’s scary strong, for a girl anyway.”

You smirk to yourself, but then you look down and notice that you’ve used so much strength in that last blow that you’ve accidentally broken the hammer you were using. It’s your favorite hammer, especially efficient in flattening surfaces and absorbing some of the impact so it creates less of a strain on your wrist. You doubt anyone has one that’s just like yours, but you decide to ask around anyway. Unfortunately for you, no one you know seems to have it. But there is one person you have yet to ask. He’s wearing goggles to protect his eyes as he gets up close and personal with whatever he’s working with. You don’t recognize him so you figure he’s new around the forge, but you might as well give it a shot and ask him. Walking up to the man, you wait for him to finish with whatever he’s doing before clearing your throat.

"You don’t happen to have a hand hammer just like this one, do you?”

The man takes off his goggles and repositions them on his smooth forehead, eyes scanning over the broken hammer you’re holding in your hands. He thinks for a moment, fingers leaving their place on his cold chisel to drum against the wooden table he’s leaning against, before rummaging through his own tools.

“Sorry, I don’t have one; I just have chisels and maybe two or three hammers,” he says, voice softer and calmer than you were expecting.

You nod slowly, shoulders slumping slightly in dejection as you rock back and forth on your heels and contemplate what to do next.

“Hey,” you start, “are you new? I haven’t seen you around here before.”

The man, who had turned back to face his own forge, jumps a little in surprise, probably not expecting you to continue the dialogue.

“N-No. I mean, yes! I just joined around a month ago but I haven’t really taken the time to introduce myself to everyone so I guess it’s my fault no one recognizes me.”

You laugh and wave him off, assuring, “Don’t worry about it! It gets kinda busy around here so I totally understand. I’ll make sure you’re invited to our next group trip to the cavern. I’m Y/n, by the way. What’s your name?”

The young man reveals his name to be Lee Jeno, smiling a warm smile at you and waving slightly.

“Well, Jeno, it’s certainly nice to meet you. Anyway, since no one has the kind of hammer I’m looking for, I might as well go visit the market. Even though I just got back from there.”

You whisper the last part but even in the midst of the chaos of the forge, Jeno still manages to catch what you say. He hesitantly offers to come with you, wanting to check out the different stalls to see if they have any new hot chisels for him to use. The two of you walk side by side on the familiar dirt path that leads from the forge back to the center of town. You take the time to observe the man beside you. Your eyes start by sweeping over his figure and taking note of his impressive height compared to your own and how his slightly tanned skin seems to glow under the sun. Jeno is looking ahead, deep pools clearly reflecting his surroundings. You’re pretty sure if you squint, you could check out your own reflection. When his head starts to turn towards you, you snap your head forward, acting as if you weren’t just checking him out.

Your companion asks, “So how old are you? I’m nineteen.”

“Eighteen,” you respond, “but I’ve been working in the forge since I was ten, so I actually have more experience than some of the older guys. My dad used to work in the forge as well.”

“That’s really cool. I was actually in training for something else before I joined Ulric’s. But I really like it there. Everyone’s like one big family.”

“Exactly! I’m glad you feel that way too. Don’t forget that if you ever need anything, you can come to any one of us and we’ll be glad to help.”

Jeno’s lips curve upward into a smile and you can’t help but notice how his eyes form the shape of a crescent moon as if they too are smiling. He’s about to express his gratitude towards you when you’re interrupted. A guy, a stranger to you, walks up to Jeno and wraps an arm around his shoulders, punching him lightly in the side with his other hand. Jeno seems to recognize the two because he offers them the same kind smile you received moments before.

“Hey, Jeno! How’ve you been, dude? Still pursuing that pipe dream of yours?”

Jeno tenses up beside you and you start to notice that his smile wasn’t the same genuine smile to begin with. His lips are stretched thin and his jaw is taut. You can tell this man is Jeno’s old friend, but even so, you won’t stand for the way he acts.

“Jeno’s actually a really good blacksmith, for your information,” you say in your companion’s defense. “He’s probably the best person in our forge to go to for detailing.”

The stranger, who deems you unworthy of knowing his name, decides to ignore you and take a step back to look at Jeno, giving him a once over. He narrows his eyes in scrutiny and looks like he’s about to continue his attack on Jeno’s already meek personality when a second person joins the conversation.

“Oh! Jeno, is that you? It’s been forever!”

A girl, rather a beautiful young lady, runs up to the three of you, throwing her arms around the man she called out to. Her voice is light and airy, like a wind chime on a calm summer day, and her long hair flows down to her hips, curling ever so elegantly. She has flowers laced in her hair and her gown is made of a rich red satin, not a stain to be seen. She’s everything you’re not and even you have to admit that you’re stunned by her beauty. When she lets go, her eyes flicker toward you, as if just noticing you for the first time.

She asks, now blatantly staring at you, “Who’s this?”

“She works in the forge. We just came to the market to look for new tools.”

The girl’s expression lights up, no longer deeming you a threat, and introduces herself, “Oh, hello! I’m Yoona, Jeno’s friend. My brother, Yonghee, and I have known Jeno since we were little kids.”

The way Yoona says the word ‘friend’ has a bitter tinge to it and you can instantly recognize the crush she’s harboring for Jeno. However, Jeno is completely unaware, eyes nervously darting about. You’ve had enough of it and decide it’s time to go, grabbing his wrist and pulling him toward a stall that you know to have high-quality tools.

You call out behind you, “It was really nice meeting you, Yoona, but we’re in a bit of a rush right now. Maybe we can talk some other time.”

You don’t give them a chance to respond, instead turning a corner and going into the alley where the shop is located. You step in, welcomed by the cool air of the building. Realizing you still have a hold of Jeno’s wrist, you let it go and turn to look at some of the sledgehammers on display. You expect for Jeno to do his own thing and look at the chisels since you know that’s what he came with you for, but you find him following you like a little duckling follows its mother. His attention is not on you, but on the hammers resting in a display case. He runs his fingers along each one, grabbing some to see how they would feel under his hands.

He asks you and the shopkeeper, “What would be the best hammer for a beginner? I hate to admit it but I’m really not that strong yet, so I’d like something easier to maneuver.”

The shopkeeper leads the two of you to a section with smaller hammers, stating that they’re lighter, though they’re not as strong. Jeno raises a brow towards you as if asking if he should purchase one or not. Of course, you’re not one to say no and if he has the money for it, you don’t see the harm. Not long after, the two of you are walking back to the forge, both having purchased a hammer. Jeno stops in his tracks, free hand coming up to rub at his other arm.

He clears his throat and says, gesturing to his newly acquired hammer, “Actually, I was wondering if you could teach me how to use this properly.”

Of course, you agree, eager to share your passion. However, you want to add something else, eyes stuck on the way Jeno’s figure seems to cave into itself.

“Why aren’t you more confident in yourself?” you ask.

You don’t mean it offensively. It’s just that Jeno lets himself be bossed around so easily. He’s too nice for his own good. He explains that he’s just always been this way and he doesn’t really see anything to be confident in. You don’t know why but your heart throbs at his words. Can’t he see that he’s worth more than the value he’s placing upon himself? You want to help him, though you’re not sure how. Contemplating it for a few moments, you come up with the beginnings of an idea: you’re going to help Jeno get in shape. You think maybe if he feels more confident in his figure, he’ll start standing up for himself.

Introducing the idea, you watch as Jeno plays with the idea for a bit. Eventually, he agrees. He admits that although he’s not sure it’ll help with his self-esteem, it won’t hurt when it comes to his work in the forge.

There's a clearing in the forest by the forge that you two decide to meet at. It's not big, probably a circle with a diameter no more than fifteen feet, but it'll do for what you have in mind. It's rather calm too, the bustling sounds of the townspeople completely out of earshot and the thick smoke of the forge nowhere to be seen. Trees surround you, tall enough that several families of birds have built nests, their chirps and calls echoing sonorously. And yet, they're short enough that the sun's rays can clearly filter through.

You arrive first, setting down your canteen and satchel against the trunk of one of the trees along the perimeter. You've brought two swords from the forge with you, one light and one heavy but both blunt; you're not aiming to damage anything. You hold the lighter sword out as soon as you see Jeno approaching. He takes it, features morphing to show his surprise at how easy it is to wield.

"It's for beginners," you explain. "I made it myself, actually. Just for you, so consider yourself lucky."

Starting with basic drills, you teach Jeno how to dodge and parry with the correct stance. He practices against a still target at first, blade making small cuts along the thick trunks of the tall trees. The young man is making quick progress and soon you decide he's ready to start practicing with you. You take it slow at first, repeating the same exercises that you had him do with the trees, except you shift your weight from one foot to the other, bouncing back and forth. Jeno tires easily and you can understand why. The heat in the forge is strong and dry, but this summer day is humid, beads of sweat lining both of your foreheads. The sound of heavy breathing fills the air as the two of you slump down against the trees.

"Is it always this hard?"

Your eyes flicker up to look at Jeno as he practically wheezes out his question. You tilt your head back and let out a laugh.

"No, I promise it's not. But have you ever really worked out before?"

The man sighs and hangs his head in shame, causing you to laugh once again. You reassure him that it's okay but you think it'd be good for him to work on building muscle too. His expression is distraught but you can tell he's joking from the way his lips are twitching, a hint of a smile peeking through.

"Take off your shirt," you say.

Jeno splutters, surprised by your sudden request, "W-What? Wait, like right now?"

"Yes, now. I want to see what I'm working with if we’re going to bulk you up. Don't worry, I don't bite."

You're teasing him, but you do want to see his physique without the blacksmith apron or baggy shirt he always wears. He slowly peels off his shirt, sweat causing it to stick to some parts of his back and arms. You're not shocked when met with the sight of an outline of ribs and a flat stomach. However, you're pleasantly surprised when you see that he already has some definition in his biceps from working at the forge and his shoulders are actually quite broad. His skin is fair but still has a healthy tan, and you have to stop yourself from staring for too long.

Jeno feels as naked as the day he was born as he watches you scrutinize him like a hawk. He wants to curl up into a ball but he knows you'd probably reprimand him and tell him to be more confident. At that thought, a smile settles on his face. Your presence has already made itself known in his mind, reminding him whenever he feels small that he is worth more than he thinks. He appreciates it more than you'll ever know and the only thing he can think to do to repay you is to listen wholeheartedly to what you have to say and make you proud.

You clear your throat, realizing that even though you tried not to, you ended up ogling the boy before you. Jeno gets back to practicing, completely oblivious to the embarrassed flush that has turned your ears and neck a hot pink.

Between slashes, he asks, question coming out low as he quickly becomes short of breath, "Where did you learn how to fight like this? I mean, you're so good that you could even be a knight."

You're in the middle of picking up your own sword when you freeze, the question bringing back some delicate memories. Sensing the sudden shift in the air, Jeno panics, waving his free hand frantically. He assures you that you don't have to share if you don't want to, but you silence him by waving him off.

"It's okay, Jeno. I don’t mind talking about it. You see, my dad was one of the top blacksmiths at the forge and he had a lot of knight friends that would come to him with custom requests. He'd often travel to the castle and to the training grounds to visit them and sometimes I would tag along. 'Sometimes' turned into weekly visits, even when my dad didn't go. I was just fascinated with how cool the knights looked. I wanted to be a knight so much back then."

Jeno inquires, "What made you change your mind?"

"Well, there was this one time that I actually got to watch the knights from the inside instead of observing from over the top of the fence. I saw some kids watching them too and I went to introduce myself, but they all laughed at me, making fun of how dirty my clothes were and how I didn't belong. They ran away before I could even get in my first word. I never went back. I wanted to prove to them that I didn't need their fancy training methods to become a knight. But then I started going with my dad to his job and I fell in love with his work even more. I guess I kinda gave up on that old pipe dream."

Something settles in the pits of Jeno's stomach that makes him feel uneasy. The story feels familiar to him, though he doesn't quite know why. It isn't until you turn your face directly to him and give him a toothy smile, telling him the past is in the past, that he fully registers what's bothering him.

You don't know it, but Jeno was apart of that story. He was one of those kids you saw, one of the kids that you showed your smile to, eyes unwavering in their innocence and kindness. He didn't say anything mean to you, yet he did nothing to stand up for you either. He thought nothing of it at the time, truly believing his friends when they told him a dirty kid like you would probably be carrying several diseases and that you should just be avoided. When Jeno tells you all of this, your reaction definitely is not what he was expecting. Your pearly white grin morphs into a gentle smile, and your eyes are holding the same innocence and indiscriminate kindness that they did years ago.

"At least you're making an effort now," you offer, though it doesn't do much to help the guilt making it's home in his heart. "If you really want to make it up to me, you can do the detailing on the sword I'm making for Jaemin. Everyone knows you're good at it."

"It's a deal," Jeno says as he shakes your hand, not missing the little spark that makes its way through his arm when you first make contact or how he can still feel it even when he goes home for the day.

Jeno's mother sends him out to the market to get some ingredients to make a dessert for his father's upcoming birthday. He arrives at a farmer's stall, eyes raking through his list to see what ingredients he can cross off. After the farmer hands him some eggs, milk, and flour, Jeno hands over the necessary amount of money. He's pocketing the leftover change when something, or rather someone, catches his attention.

"Jeno," you call out, arm raised above your head, waving back and forth. As you jog towards him, Jeno's eyes draw together in confusion.

"Are you talking to me- Oh! It's you, Y/n. I don't know why I didn't recognize you."

Jeno does know why he doesn't recognize you. Your hair is down and thoroughly brushed through, soft locks tickling the skin of your neck. You're free of the smears of charcoal that usually taint your face. The starkest difference, however, is your choice of clothes. Instead your usual work trousers, you're adorned in a soft cream-colored dress, delicate ruffles capping off puffy sleeves. You look like you've had years of worry shaved off of you, smile light and carefree. More so, you look like an angel, the sun's rays surrounding your frame like a large halo. When you reach him, you're only slightly out of breath, a blinding smile gracing your soft lips. Jeno feels tongue-tied; he knows you're the same person you've always been but it's like he's seeing a new part of you.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," you say, tucking a couple of loose strands behind your ear.

You look a bit uncomfortable, out of place, hiding your dress behind the large bag of vegetables that you're holding.

"It's fine, I was just distracted. Are you done shopping?"

"No, I actually have to get a couple of fruits as well. You're welcome to join me."

Jeno agrees, of course, and offers to carry your bag. It's a cute gesture, really, but you can't help but giggle as he lets out a grunt, arm shaking under the weight of it. You tell him you're fine, taking back the bag with ease. You pull him along to another stand that sells fresh fruits, grabbing some strawberries, cherries, and peaches. As the afternoon sun bears down on you, Jeno offers to walk you home, an offer which you accept after a bit of convincing.

"Let's take a little break," you say, setting down your bag on a grassy hill and flopping down to sit with your legs crossed. You dig around in your bag and bring out a bunch of cherries, pulling one off of its stem and popping it in your mouth. You hand a couple to Jeno as well, the two of you enjoying the sweet, yet tangy fruit. While you enjoy the change of pace, a meek voice pierces through the peaceful silence.

"Excuse me," says a small child, "may I have something to eat? I haven't had anything in days."

The child is skinny to the point where you're wondering how he is standing up on his own, bones prominent against his thin and dull skin. Of course, you oblige, not only handing over a cherry, but the whole bunch.

"Come and sit," you say gently, not wanting to scare the poor child away. You hand him your canteen and he takes a big swig, several drops dribbling down his jaw. Wiping away at his chin with the fabric of your sleeve, you tell the child to take it easy. Your eyes are soft as you speak, hand gently rubbing at his back.

It's a day full of new experiences for Jeno as he looks at the scene unfurling before him. He likes this side of you, the one that doesn't seem to have such a tough exterior. He can't deny how his insides melt a little when the sickly child falls asleep on your lap and you carefully card your fingers through his thin and tangled hair.

"It's nice seeing you like this, you know," he tells you. "You look so carefree and feminine that I almost forgot you're a total god when it comes to swordsmanship."

"Hey," you reprimand, "you can be feminine and be great with a sword."

Jeno puts his hands up in defeat, but the point he made still hangs in the air, causing you to let out a soft sigh.

"Not everyone is as nice as you, Jeno. You know I've been through some things and I don't think I've seen enough to prove that my views on people of the other class are untrue."

Your voice is laced with sadness as if you wish you could say otherwise, and looking down upon your watery eyes that reflect the setting sun, Jeno vows to right all the wrongs that have happened to you.

Images of you fill his mind, those of you in the forge, the orange coals casting a soft glow upon your features; visions of you training with him, wiping the sweat from your brow; and pictures of you and your carefree smile under the afternoon sun. They're all he can think of as he shuts the door to his house behind him.

"Had a nice day, sweetheart?"

Jeno's eyes flicker up to see his mother looking at him with an accusatory gaze. Her eyes are narrow and her thin arms are crossed across her chest, weight shifting to one leg.

"Y-Yeah," he replies. "Why do you ask?"

"A little bird told me you're spending even more time with that commoner girl. You know that's not good for you or our image, Jeno. We're people of nobility; we can't be seen with just anyone. First, you choose to go to that silly old forge and waste your time away, and now, this?"

"Mother, you know that blacksmithing is my passion, my dream. And there's nothing wrong with that girl. She has a name."

"You're getting attached, Jeno," comes his mother's mocking sing-song voice, clearly not taking his argument seriously. "You already know that Yoona is the girl for you, so I suggest you stay away from that… peasant girl from now on."

Jeno is far beyond angry at this point. Hot air blows out of his nose as his figure practically shakes. First, his family disrespects the dream he finally worked up the courage to pursue, and now they're judging you without even knowing you. He doesn't know how he never noticed how biased his family and friends can be.

"If this is how it's going to be, I can't say I'd be okay aligning myself with this family," Jeno declares.

Jeno's mother huffs indignantly, asking, "What will you do without us, Jeno? We're all you've ever had."

Before storming upstairs to stuff some clothes into a bag, Jeno makes sure to enunciate the fact that he has a whole different family, one that actually cares for him and his dreams, waiting for him back at the forge. He slams the front door behind him and walks toward the familiar building, his bag of clothes feeling extra heavy as if being weighed down by the consequences of his decision. He probably should've thought it through and planned ahead of time, now not knowing where to go. However, luck seems to be in his favor because there is a source of light in the forge, signaling someone is still working.

Jeno breathes a sigh of relief as soon as he pushes open the door to the forge and sees that Jinyoung is hard at work, flattening out an iron rod. The aforementioned man looks up, confusion filling his eyes as he notices the figure in the doorway.

"Jeno? What are you doing here?"

The young man scratches his chin as he replies, "I was planning on crashing here for the night. And basically from now until forever."

Jinyoung immediately sets down his tools, walking over and asking if everything is okay. He nods understandingly when told that Jeno basically ran away from home.

"Jeno, you can totally stay with me and my brother. We have a spare room in our house."

"Are you serious?"

Jeno wraps his arms around his friend, relief settling into his bones. It finally feels like he can breathe freely again and he can't express his gratitude enough. He's still thanking Jinyoung even as the two close up shop and head home for the night, no matter how many times the older boy reassures him that it's what anyone in the forge would do.

Jeno doesn't tell you about his situation, mainly because your relationship is running so much smoother these days. Your interactions are full of smiles and secret glances at each other across the flames of the forge. The strange faerie you met earlier, Renjun, managed to get his hands one the precious metal he was speaking of and you've started working on it, the material proving to be just as durable as claimed. Overall, everything is going really well.

It's one of those days that you and Jeno meet up in your secret spot in the forest. Lately, Jeno has started sparring against you, skills rapidly developing. You two are moving so fast and so fluid that it's almost like a dance, tiny sparks flying off every time your two swords clash. This time, you're about to go in for the kill (not literally, of course) when your foot gets caught on the root of a tree and you stumble backward into its trunk. Jeno takes advantage of this opportunity and holds his sword up, level with your throat. Slowly, he brings the sword back to his side and forms a cage around you with his body. There's a thick tension in the air as he approaches, eyes never leaving your own. Drawing even closer until he's mere inches away from your face, the young man feels the rough skin of your worn hands come up to caress his face. His eyes flicker over, smiling gently as he feels the hairs on his arms raise from the feeling of this much awaited skin contact.

You have other ideas in mind, hand suddenly wrapping around the back of his neck and pulling him into a chokehold. Your partner soon gives up, raising his arms up in surrender. You smirk as you let him go and lean back against the tree again.

"Never let your guard down," you remind Jeno. "I believe that was lesson number four or five."

Jeno rolls his eyes at your feigned cocky attitude, watching as you release on of your now trademarked carefree laughs. Seeing an opening, he takes a chance. Placing a hand on your waist, he pulls you flush against himself. Your breath is stolen as you place both of your hands on his chest. You can't help but let your hands wander across his now hardened physique. It's as if he's bulked up in the blink of an eye, chiseled abdomen making itself known against your own. This time, it's you who can't seem to look elsewhere as you swallow thickly.

"Jeno, are you sure about-"

The man before you makes the final move, hand snaking around to the small of your back to give you a gentle push closer, if you could even get any closer at this point. Your lips meet at the middle, soft pillows interlocking perfectly as if made for each other. The sun's rays are nothing compared to the heat of Jeno's hand as it finds a place along your jaw. You feel a tug of something in the base of your stomach as Jeno brings your lower lip between his teeth. You know that if you don't stop here, you could get too carried away, so you push him away, lips parting and foreheads now coming to rest against each other. Your breaths mingle in the little space between you as your chest heaves, partially because you're out of breath and partially because you feel as if your whole body is on fire and your heart has been stolen. You give Jeno one last peck at the corner of his mouth before fully backing away. Picking up your stuff, you adjust the strap of your satchel on your shoulder.

"I should go. I'll see you at the forge, Jeno."

You disappear into the thick maze of trees, but not before shooting one last dazzling smile his way over your shoulder.

"Y/n, you have a visitor," comes the voice of Johnny as he walks in, clocking in for the day.

You place your tools down and dust your hands against each other, rubbing them against your apron as an extra precaution. You take off the goggles that are wound around your head, blowing strands of hair out of your hair. Taking your hair out of its ponytail, you brush through the strands with your fingers before deeming yourself presentable enough. Usually you wouldn't mind so much about your appearance, but since you're at work, you never know if it'll be a friend or a potential customer. However, you're surprised when you step outside and find that neither is waiting to greet you.

"Y/n, right? I'm sorry to pull you away from your work, but there is something really important that I must talk to you about."

You can tell from the tone that the woman standing before you isn't the least bit sorry. However, you let her continue, not really bothered enough to interrupt.

"I don't know if you remember, but we met at the market once. I'm Yoona, Jeno's childhood friend and former betrothed."

"Former?"

"Oh, Jeno didn't tell you? He ran away from home just so that he could be with you. It's actually what I came to talk to you about. It's probably not your intention, but you've become quite a toxic person for Jeno to be around. Not only are you negatively affecting his life, but the lives of his family and dear friends."

"I- I didn't know. He didn't tell me."

"Yes, because he wants to live out this little fairytale that's in his head. But you and I know what's really the best for him. He needs to be with his family, not with some poor strangers that were forced to take him in."

You try to argue that Jeno would never be the type to purposefully be an inconvenience, especially to strangers. However, Yoona doesn't let up for a second.

"It's up to you, really," she says. "Do you want to be the girl who comes between Jeno and his family? And all for what? Some crush that you have on him that'll never be reciprocated?"

Yoona spins on her heels, hair whipping behind her and creating a sharp breeze that blows toward your face and causes you to flinch. You watch as she walks away, gait slow and delicate. Sighing to yourself, you realize that is the type of girl that's meant for Jeno, not someone like you. You do care about him, more than you've probably cared for anyone other than Jaemin and your father, but this means that you won't hesitate to do what's best for him. This is why when you walk back into the forge, your head remains low and your expression is stone cold, no form of sadness peeking through. You look down at the sword resting on your anvil, blade and grip already complete. All that's left is the detailing of the rain-guard, but that's where your problem lies: Jeno is supposed to do the detailing. Taking a deep breath, you pick up the sword and bring it over to Johnny, ignoring the blatant way Jeno's eyes follow your figure.

"Hey, Johnny," you start. "Do you think you can do this detailing for me?"

Johnny's eyes raise in surprise and you don't miss the way his eyes flit over to Jeno for a second before replying, "Are you sure? I have a bit more experience than you, but you know I've never been good with a chisel."

"Yeah, I'm sure. Anything's better than the sloppy job I'd do."

You hear the sound of a tool clattering on the floor and you know that it's Jeno who's dropped whatever he's been working with, but you choose to ignore it.

Jeno's eyes still haven’t left your figure since the moment you walked back into the forge, and he's plagued with confusion. Just the day before, you were taking a walk, hand in hand, stealing kisses on the cheek, forehead, and nose. And now? You're acting like he doesn't even exist. The change is too stark and he knows he has to figure out the cause, but for not, he walks over to Johnny, offering the older man to do the detailing instead. Johnny gratefully accepts, handing over the sword and agreeing not to tell you about it. As he aligns his chisel with the tip of the hilt, an idea forms in his head. He has an inkling of who could be behind your sudden behavior change and resolves to ask about it when he clocks out for the day.

"Mother, Father," Jeno calls out, voice echoing in the silence of his home. He hears soft footsteps and not long after, he sees his parents' figures descending down the main staircase.

"Jeno," the young man's mother all but squeals as she rushes up to him and wraps him in a tight hug. He has to admit that he's missed seeing his family, but there are more important things to be said.

"I have something to ask you… Did you say something to Y/n? I know you don't approve of her but you have no right interfering in our relationship. And even though she may not have had an official education, she's just as knowledgeable and eloquent, if not more, than any of my friends."

Jeno's parents shuffle uncomfortably for a moment before his father clears his throat and speaks up, "We know, son. And we're truly sorry for that. We see now how committed to your dream you are and we think that girl has actually had a positive influence on you. You used to never stand up for yourself. I really don't know why she would be acting that way."

It feels as if the weight of the world has been lifted from Jeno's shoulders. Sure, he would stay with you with or without his parents' consent, but now he can pursue a relationship with you and have complete confidence. Now, the only problem is finding out who or what could've changed your mind. His mind plays his memories with you back as if he's reading one of the story books he read as a child. One day seems to stick out in particular. It's the day you two first met. More specifically, when you visited the market. He remembers feeling insecure and shy around Yonghee. Then right after, he remembers Yoona rushing up to him, latching onto his side and making her presence known to you.

"That's it," he whispers, causing his parents to look at him weirdly. "It's Yoona. I can't believe I hadn't figured this out sooner. I know I just got here, but I have to go. I'm sorry."

Jeno's parents give him encouraging smiles as they see him off, mother stating, "It's okay, dear. We know this is something you have to do.”

It's not a long trip to Yoona's house, probably a five minute run at most, and as soon as he reaches the doorstep, he's practically banging against the door. His heart rate quickens as the door opens, but it's not who he's hoping for.

"Jeno, what's up? You look totally different from the last time I saw you."

"Not now, Yonghee. Where's Yoona?"

"I-In the kitchen. Why-"

Jeno doesn't give Yonghee the opportunity to speak, dashing towards the room where he knows the cause of all of his problems is residing. He runs up to Yoona and demands to know what she's said to you, restraining himself from physically shaking the answer out of her. Yoona's eyes dart around nervously as she tries to avoid his question

"I don't know what you're talking about, Jeno."

"Yes, you do. Why else would she completely ignore me like she's doing right now?

It takes a couple of tries, but Jeno manages to get some sort of an answer when Yoona reveals, "Ok, fine. I may or may not have told her about how you moved out and how it was all her fault."

"Yoona, I know we've been friends since we were four, but that doesn't excuse this. You had no right to interrupt like you did."

"I know. God, I know that now. You'll never love me like that and I see that now. Can I ever make it up to you?"

"I don't know if I'll ever completely forgive you, but if there's one thing you could do, it would be apologizing to Y/n."

With that, Jeno turns and retraces his steps back to the forge. Each step he takes makes him feel light and heavy at the same time, and he doesn't know why. It's like some invisible force is holding his heart in hand, ready to crush it into pieces if all goes downhill. At this point, all he can do is hope and pray that his chances at a real relationship with you haven't been completely ruined.

Jeno tries not to picture what his life would be like without you in it as the forge draws closer and closer. Pushing open the door, he's greeted with utter silence, realizing that the light he saw from outside was just a candle that someone forgot to extinguish. He curses aloud, shutting the door and pacing around, trying to remember the way to your house from one time when he walked you home. He has a vague idea of where to start, taking a narrow road to a residential area not too far away. However, the darkness of the night sky and lack of lighting along the rough pathways does nothing to aid him. He ends up taking a wrong turn somewhere along the way and is now lost among the many small houses lined up side by side. And just to make things worse, he feels a few droplets fall from the sky and splatter against his face.

By the time Jeno finds your house, a small one-story building tucked away in a maze of flowers and shrubbery, he's soaked to the bone, the loose white cotton shirt put on in the morning now sticking to him like a second skin. He knocks on your door once, twice, and then thrice, hoping you can hear him over the sounds of the storm that's brewing.

It takes a couple moments, but you do eventually pry open the door slightly, your face poking out and tiredness pulling your eyelids down. Bringing a palm up to rub at your eyes, you blink a couple times, finally acknowledging the person on the other side of the door.

"Jeno? Oh my god, what are you doing out there? You're going to catch a cold."

You swing the front door open wider, free hand reaching out to grasp his arm and pull him inside, all the while trying your best not to ogle at his clearly visible figure. Asking the drenched boy to stand in one place, you rush to your bathroom and grab a dry towel. You don't realize it but as you wrap the towel around Jeno, you're also pulling him closer to you, and it only really hits you when the two of you are almost standing toe to toe, his shaky breath fanning out across your face. Clearing your throat, you take a step back and leave him to dry himself. In the meantime, you warm up some milk for the two of you.

When Jeno is mostly dried down, you request for him to take a seat at the couch in your living room. You hand him the glass of warm milk, noticing how his hands are still shaking, and decide to light up your fireplace. Dusting off your hands and turning to face the man on your couch, you start to think maybe it wasn't the best idea, because the way the glow of the fireplace bounces off Jeno's skin already has your heart going a mile a minute. You settle for sitting on a chair across from him and looking down as if the milk in your glass is the most interesting thing you've ever seen. Eventually, you feel as though you have to say something, the silence seeping into your skin and creating a ball of anxiety that weighs down your heart.

"Why did you come here, Jeno?"

The man looks up at you, eyes full of sorrow, guilt, and something else as he formulates his response.

"Why have you been avoiding me?"

"I haven't been-"

"Yes, you have. You asked Johnny to help with your sword even though it's something we promised we'd do together."

You swallow thickly, knowing that you've been caught, and admit, "Ok, so I did try to distance myself a bit, but I just felt like we were moving too fast."

Jeno sighs deeply, frustration turning his knuckles white as he grips his mug tightly and says, "You're lying again, Y/n."

The way Jeno can see through you so well leaves you feeling overexposed, but somewhere deep inside, there's a part of you that appreciates it. He's looking at you as if you're the only thing that's ever existed and you've never felt so bare and content at the same time.

"It wasn't a complete lie, though," you say, tone slightly defensive. "You have so much going for you. You come from a wealthy family and you have good friends, and Yoona is head over heels for you. You could have so much. I just don't think you should be wasting all of your potential on me."

"None of that matters if I don't have you with me. Yes, my family is rich, but do you really think I care about that kind of stuff when I gave it all up to come work at the forge?"

"Well, I…"

"And do you think I'd be here right now, doing my best to fight for you, if I thought I could live a life with Yoona? Y/n, you're the only one I could see myself with; you're the only one that will ever make me feel complete."

"But your parents, Jeno. They'd never approve."

"I talked to them. Sure, they think still Yoona is my match, but they're willing to accept you. And so what if they weren't? It's my life and I'd be willing to give up all of it for you."

He stands up, placing his mug on the little table between you and walking around it to stand before you. He reaches into the pocket of his trousers to pull something out, but it slips through his grasp, falling somewhere on the hard stone floor with a soft clink. It takes a minute but Jeno is able to find it, fingertips grazing across a familiar cold metal underneath the chair you're sitting on. He takes the object between his fingers and offers it to you.

The scene before you is something you'd never think would happen. Jeno is on one knee and in his hand is a small metal object, a ring that you can tell is handmade. It's not a perfect circle, not even close, and you can tell it was rushed by the lumps on the surface, but the mere sight of it has you flustered beyond belief

"Jeno, I hope that's not what I think it is. Never mind the fact that society wouldn't approve; we're not even twenty yet!"

It takes a moment for the man to realize the position he's in, but when it clicks, he jumps to his feet, startling you a bit. He takes your smaller hand in his, holding it as if it's a delicate flower, and looks deeply into your eyes.

"It's a promise ring I meant to give you. It means I'll always care for you, support you, and love you until the day that I die. I hope this proves how much you mean to me."

With that, Jeno slides the ring onto its designated finger. And in this moment, it's like you can see into each other's hearts and souls. In this moment, no one else exists and nothing else matters. Jeno thinks the smile that finally breaks your tense visage is bright enough to illuminate the whole world, if not the whole universe.

You jump up to your feet and wrap your arms around the man, your man, placing a kiss on his chapped and cracked lips. The feeling of your lips locking perfectly together assures you that this is how it's meant to be and you should've never tried to settle for anything less. The kiss is sweet and innocent and pure and you want to stay like this forever. Unfortunately, you both run out of air and pull away, though your hand is still tangled in the hairs on the back of his head and his palm is planted firmly on your waist.

"I love you too," you breathe out, reciprocating what he had said earlier.

Jaemin holds up a finished sword, the product of yours and Jeno's hard work, twisting his wrist to inspect the blade from all angles. The sun’s rays make it glow as if it’s molten silver, causing your friend to nod in approval. He makes a few slashes at the air, but they're sloppy and slow as the sorcerer has never been the fighting type.

"It's perfect, Y/n," he tells you with his pearly white smile.

You can't take all the credit though, elbowing Jeno in his side as you declare, "Jeno did a good amount of work on it too."

Jeno snaps out of whatever daze he's in and shyly rubs a hand against his neck, claiming he really didn't do much. Even still, you decide to split the reward evenly between the two of you. You think it's only fair since what's yours is his and what's his is yours.

Jaemin snaps his fingers as he reminds you, "Hey, you never did tell me its name."

You and Jeno look at each other, smiles coming to your faces knowing you'd actually discussed this topic just the night before.

"Excalibur," you declare proudly.

And Jeno finishes off, "The sword that cuts through steel."

104 notes · View notes

ahgastae · 5 years

Text

Penny for Your Thoughts?

Jinyoung x Reader (Soulmate!AU)

Fluff

Word Count - 5.3k

Warnings: you know what? i think i did pretty good on the swears this time. so unless you’re allergic to sweet, tooth rotting cuteness, i have no warnings for this one!

Quick A/N: bolded text is spoken/heard in korean! also, i changed this up a bit from the intro/headcanons for story purposes, and i hope that isn’t a problem.

Unlike most people in his system, Jinyoung has a love-hate relationship with the voice inside his head. No, not the nagging little voice in the back of mind telling him to strangle Yugyeom, but the actual voice invading his thoughts. The voice belonging to his soulmate. Now, Jinyoung is truly grateful for the perks of his system, like ‘meeting’ his soulmate before their fated encounter. But, sometimes, hearing her in his head makes it all the more harder for him to wait.

Jinyoung sighs blissfully, letting the stress roll off his shoulders as he finally sinks into the practice room couch. He loves comebacks as much as the rest of his group, but none of them are exactly fond of the exhaustion that comes with them. Jinyoung’s gently eyes close, basking in the small moment of peace. They don’t come around very often, considering his groupmates’ personalities, and he cherishes the few he gets. His mind toes the edge of consciousness, teetering on the brink of sleep when-

“Jinyoung-ah!”

That didn’t last long.

Jinyoung’s eyes flash open, just in time to catch Jackson leaping towards him without warning. He grimaces when the older male lands across his lap, legs splaying along the end of the couch. Besides him, Jaebum snickers under his breath.

“I think you almost got five minutes this time,” Jaebum remarks, amusement written on his face. Jackson smiles widely, wriggling around in Jinyoung’s lap to get comfortable.

“I wasn’t aware I was being timed.”

Jaebum shrugs, “It’s just something I do to keep myself occupied. That, and it’s always amusing to watch them try and wake you up.” Jinyoung glances around the room, realizing his remaining four members are all watching him, and they’re all simultaneously trying to hold in laughter. He rolls his eyes, but can’t hide the small smile on his lips. Really, he’s not surprised. He would be shocked if they didn’t try to mess with him while his eyes were closed. But that still doesn’t stop him from pushing Jackson off of his legs.

Jackson whines when he hits the floor with a dull thud, “Hey! Is that how you treat your elders?”

“The only thing elderly about you is how fragile your bones are.” The room breaks into giggles, and only intensifies when Jackson mocks pain, clutching at his chest as he flops down dramatically.

“Wounded!” He cries. “Wounded by own blood! I raised you on my back, Park Jinyoung!”

Jinyoung smirks as he rises from the couch, “And that will be your downfall.” He acts out removing a sword from its sheath, pointing the imaginary blade at Jackson’s chest. “Any last words?” Jackson locks eyes with him, chest heaving theatrically. The room is silent, the five other members all waiting with bated breath. Jackson does not disappoint.

“Wang Gae... Park Gae...”

Jackson collapses with a grunt, limbs spread out all around him. Immediately the room erupts once more. Bambam and Youngjae rush forwards, feigning tears and sorrow for their fallen friend. Jinyoung turns around, pointing his ‘sword’ threateningly at the last three members.

“Have you anything to say?”

Mark and Yugyeom quickly shake their heads, faces growing red from laughter. Jaebum chuckles, hiding his smile behind his hand. Jinyoung nods triumphantly, and returns his weapon to his sheath.

Then, amidst the loud laughter and dramatic sobs, he hears it. A sound he’s grown to become quite accustomed to. One might even say he’s fond of it. The light giggle flashes through his mind in a second, and then it’s gone just as soon. Jinyoung’s heart swells in his chest, although he can’t tell if it’s from adoration or embarrassment.

At least she enjoyed his performance.

I bite my lip, staring down at my notebook as I try to hide the smile on my face. I know he has a penchant for theatrics, and I find it really endearing that he does, but I really wish he would wait until after my professor’s lecture on cognitive functions.

It’s not often that I find myself popping into my soulmate’s head. In fact, for the most part, I try not to. In the beginning, my soulmate was a pretty private and reserved person. He didn’t like me barging into his head at the most random of moments, and I understand that, but it’s not exactly like I had any control over it at that time. I didn’t even know I was in the thoughts system until the day I had the weirdest out of body experience of my life.

People always ask what it’s like to have a direct link to my soulmate’s mind, and, honestly, it’s fucking confusing. That link can vary in strength, and sometimes changes on a day-to-day basis. Most days, it’ll be a streamline of thoughts, like a phone conversation. I’ve been told it’s the main way those of us in the thoughts system communicate with our significant others, but it took awhile before I wasn’t the only one talking.

“Why are you so intent on killing Yugioh?”

The question escaped my mind before I could stop it. By then, I knew that wasn’t the name of the tall friend he always wanted to strangle, but it never failed to entertain him when I got it ‘wrong’, so I wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. Moments later, I felt the familiar feeling in the back of my head, letting me know he’d heard. Usually that would be the most I got, so imagine my surprise when he actually responded.

“The little shit keeps eating all my chocolate. It’s what he deserves.”

I smiled, trying hard not to let my excitement show too much. That was the first time he purposefully communicated with me, and I was over the moon to see some progress being made.

“Ah, a capital offense, I see. Off with his head, then.”

Then he did something I never expected, at least not because of me.

He laughed. And I swear my heart was sold from that moment on.

Nowadays, it’s more common for him to reply to me when he gets the chance, and it almost feels like we’ve become some sort of weird, long distance friends. That’s probably something strange to think about my soulmate, but I still hesitate to bring up anything that might make him uncomfortable, or draw himself away. The last thing I want is for him to feel trapped inside his own mind.

Other days, there’s only subconscious feelings, like a sudden craving for strawberries, or a tinge of intense, yet unexplained frustration. I once snapped at a friend for breathing too close to me, despite having no idea why I was so bothered by it. It was odd, sure, but it wasn’t my strangest day, either. That title is reserved for moments when the link is the strongest.

The connection between two individuals in the thoughts system is believed to be strongest when one or both of them experiences exceptionally powerful emotions. In times of exhilarating excitement or crippling sorrow, the bond is so strong, they say it’s possible for the two souls to partially merge. What does that mean, exactly? Well, it’s a little hard to explain.

The first time it happened, I was fourteen, and my best friend, Rory, had just told me they were moving. Granted, they were only moving about an hour or two away, but I swear it felt like my entire body went cold. I’d known them since elementary school, and I couldn’t imagine how my life would be without them. My heart just snapped, but when it did, it felt like something else was put together.

One moment, I was blinking back tears, looking into my friend’s eyes, and the next, I was in a small room with mirrors lining the walls. Except the person staring back at me in my reflection wasn’t me. A young boy, probably close to my own age, stood frozen in the mirror, jaw hanging open in shock. I glanced around the room, acutely aware of his head turning in the reflection with my movements. There was no sign of Rory, no sign of the park we were sitting in, no sign of me.

My chest began to feel tight as I soon realized I had no idea where I was, or even who I was. How was I supposed to figure out how to fix it if I didn’t know what it was? I couldn’t just run up to a stranger and say I somehow switched bodies with a teenage boy I don’t know. And if I was there in his body, did that mean he was in...?

In the midst of my thoughts, a hand landed on my shoulder, jolting me out of my concentration, and effectively scaring the shit out of me. I jumped, instinctively elbowing the person behind me, and throwing their hand off as I stepped away. I heard a pained groan, and turned around to find another boy, clutching his stomach and swearing under his breath.

“Jinyoung, what’s the matter with you?!”

When he spoke, I knew it was in a language I couldn’t understand, shouldn’t have been able to understand, but was somehow able to comprehend.

“I-I don’t know who you’re talking about.” It was weird to hear a voice that wasn’t my own come out, even if I recognized that it wasn’t my mouth saying those words. It was even weirder when I realized I responded in the same language he was speaking.

The boy sighed as he stood up straight with the roll of his eyes, “Seriously? I didn’t expect you to be one for jokes like this.” He took a step towards me, but stopped when I took an equal step back. “Jinyoung-ah, are you okay?”

I tried to respond, to tell him that I’m not ‘Jinyoung’, that I’m definitely not okay, but something in my chest broke, and, suddenly, I wasn’t in the mirror room anymore. I was back on that park bench, Rory gripping my hand tightly with a worried expression on their face. It took a few hours for my parents to finally calm me down, and an even longer time for me to understand what the hell had happened to me. Why I had suddenly found myself in a random boy’s body, and why (as Rory would later tell me) he found himself in mine. At the end of the day, I came out of that situation with several confusing revelations.

One, I am in the thoughts system. My soulmate and I are connected in arguably the deepest, most personal way; through our thoughts. Two, ‘soul-swapping’, as they’ve termed it, is a rare event that can occur between two soulmates in the thoughts system. It’s what happened that day, and could happen again at just about any moment, given the connection is strong enough. And, finally, ‘Jinyoung’ wasn’t just some random boy. He’s my soulmate, and I’ve been trying to find him since that day.

“Miss L/N, care to join us back in class?” My psych professor’s voice abruptly breaks me out of my memories. My cheeks burn as I realize I’ve been zoned out for a good twenty minutes, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed. Shit. This isn’t the first time this has happened, and I’ve been warned multiple times to stop it. Professor Kim stares me down from the front of the classroom, and I shrink under his gaze.

“Sorry, Professor, I was just...”

“Lost in your thoughts?” A couple giggles sound from around the room. I glance down at my notebook, biting my lip. Why do I keep doing this? I literally cannot afford to be kicked out of the international study program. Not when I’ve come this far to find him. “Miss L/N?”

I look back up at Professor Kim, trying to ignore the burning in my face, “I’m sorry, Professor Kim. I promise I’ll pay attention from now on.” The professor nods, turning back to the board and resuming his lecture. I pick up my pencil with a sigh, forcing myself to focus, and keeping in mind why I came here in the first place.

Two years ago, I sat in my cramped dorm room, quite literally bored out of my mind.

“Hey, Jinyoung?”

“Y/N? What aren’t you asleep yet?” I scrunched my eyebrows, glancing out my dorm window at the, very much, daylight sky.

“I’m...not tired yet, I guess.” It wasn’t uncommon for Jinyoung to say things like that, to get the time of day wildly off. It was part of what lead me to believe he must have lived somewhere far away, in a time zone where perhaps my day was his night.

“You should go to bed soon. Not getting enough sleep is bad for you, and you need it for your classes.”

I scoffed. Jinyoung practically knew my life to a T, yet I knew next to nothing about him, except that his name was Jinyoung, he was around my age, and that he lived in South Korea. I only found out about the last thing when I realized that the foreign language that I suddenly became fluent in during soul-swaps was, in fact, Korean. Other than that, he doesn’t like to share very much about himself, even though he had been talking more and more over the years. Honestly, it was kind of irritating.

“Jinyoung, how come you won’t tell me about where you live?”

“What do you mean? You know I live in Korea.”

I rolled my eyes, “Yeah, but I have no idea where in Korea. And you didn’t even tell me that, I figured it out myself.”

“Why are you so interested suddenly?” I hesitated to respond, eyeing the pamphlet sitting on my nightstand. A number of my classmates had talked about stumbling upon their soulmates while studying abroad, and I couldn’t help but wonder if the same would work for me. I only needed to know where I had to go.

“I just...” I struggled to find an excuse. “I just want to know more about you. You know so much about me; where I live, what I’m studying, who my friends are. I worry sometimes that I really am only talking to a voice inside my head.”

Jinyoung went silent, and I was scared that I had gone too far. While I wasn’t technically lying about sometimes thinking he wasn’t real, it felt wrong to not tell him the truth behind my curiosity. Then again, every once in a while, I wonder if his response would have been the same, had I told what I was really planning.

After a few harrowing minutes of silence, Jinyoung finally responded.

“Seoul. I live in Seoul.”

I hum to myself as I push open the door to my dorm. I somehow managed to keep my mind in my own head for the rest of the day, but I now have a sudden craving for chocolate, and I have a feeling my own taste buds aren’t to blame. I trudge towards the kitchen, licking my lips as I remember I have a few candies stashed away in the back of our fridge. With any luck, I’ll be able to finish them off before my dormmates get home.

My hopes are quickly dashed, however, when I enter the kitchen to find my two roommates, Jieun and Soojin, have not only returned early, but are currently sitting on the counter, munching on my chocolate. My eyes narrow, and I drop my bag onto the floor with a resounding thud. Both girls’ heads whip towards me, shock and guilt written on their faces.

“Y/N! You’re home early!” Jieun smiles forcefully, attempting to subtly move the bag of candy behind her.

“And you look really pretty today, unnie,” Soojin adds. She hops off the counter, and outstretches her arms for a hug. I dodge out of her reach, and snatch what’s left of my chocolates out of Jieun’s hands.

“Yah!”

“Don’t you ‘yah’ me! These weren’t yours in the first place!” I pop a candy in my mouth, sticking my tongue out at them.

Soojin’s lips drop into a pout, “We just wanted to have a little, unnie. You always buy the best sweets.”

“Quit trying to butter me up,” I point a warning finger at her. “You took my candy without asking, and now you get to face the consequences.”

“What consequences? Are you going to give us the silent treatment?” Jieun laughs. “You wouldn’t know which way was up without us showing you around Seoul.” She jumps off the counter, opening the fridge, and pulling out what I assume is tonight’s dinner. Soojin giggles, covering her mouth when I fix her with a small glare.

“Excuse you, but I think my Korean has improved a lot, thank you very much.” Jieun and Soojin share a look.

“Oh, that’s right, I forgot,” Jieun teases. “That must be why you came home from the store with dog shampoo the other day.” Soojin erupts in laughter, giving Jieun a high five as her body shakes with glee. It’s my turn to pout, crossing my arms indignantly.

“I thought the dog was just another one of those cute brand characters!”

Jieun laughs, patting my head when I furrow my brows, “’Thought’ being the key word.”

“Speaking of thinking,” Soojin interjects as she takes a seat at the table, gesturing at me to follow. “How were your classes today, Y/N?” I sigh, going to pick out another chocolate when I realize the bag is now empty. I guess Jieun wasn’t kidding when she said there weren’t very many left. Tossing the empty candy bag in the trash, I walk towards the table and plop down in the chair across from Soojin.

“Same old, same old,” I hum, resting my chin on my hand. “I kind of...zoned out in Professor Kim’s class.”

Soojin quirks a brow, “Zoned out, or zoned out?”

“The second one.”

“Unnie, not again!”

“I know, I know! I don’t mean for it to happen,” I sputter. “It just...does.”

“Is Professor Kim the one who demands everyone speak in Korean, even though the class is for mostly international students?”

“Uh-uh,” Soojin shakes her head. “That’s Professor Song.”

“I thought she was the one who always extends due dates.”

“Guys!”

Jieun glances at me from her spot in front of the stove, “Oh, sorry, Y/N. We were just talking about the professors.”

“I know what you guys were talking about, I just...” Soojin reaches across the table, laying a comforting hand on my forearm.

“Y/N?”

I sigh, running a hand through my hair, “I guess...it’s just getting to me a bit, you know? I can only spend so many years abroad with the costs and the credits I need to graduate, and it’s starting to feel like I’m not going to accomplish what I came to Seoul to do.” I shake my head, trying to get rid of the tingling feeling in the back of my mind. “It’s frustrating knowing he’s here somewhere, but having no idea if I have any chance of finding him.”

“Don’t say that!” Soojin cries. “You’ll absolutely find him! That’s the whole point of soulmates, after all!”

“I hate to admit it, but she’s right, Y/N. You came all this way, I’m sure it’s only a matter of time,” Jieun shrugs. “Besides, how many Jinyoungs can there possibly be?”

A frown etches itself across Jinyoung’s face. He really didn’t mean to eavesdrop on that conversation between Y/N and her roommates, but he did, and now he can’t get it out of his mind. How could he have not realized it sooner? In hindsight, he supposes there were quite a few things that made should have made it fairly obvious. Like how her sleep schedule suddenly became a lot more aligned with Korean Standard Time. How she hasn’t talked about her college friends for a while now. How her optimism is slowly declining as the efforts of her international search continue to be fruitless. Jinyoung wants to beat himself up for not noticing it before.

Y/N’s looking for him. She’s been looking for him. She came all the way to Seoul...for him. He briefly remembers the short conversation they had months ago, where he finally shared where he lived. She’d been curious for so long, he could feel it, but he was worried that revealing too much about himself would lead to her finding out who he is. That he’s not just Jinyoung, her soulmate. He knows how stressful being with an idol can be, and he reasoned with himself that he didn’t want to subject her to that.

But now he knows she’s out there, and even closer than before. She’s here, somewhere in Seoul, desperate to find him when he’s given nothing but the vaguest of clues. Jinyoung realizes that his idol status is not why he’s afraid of meeting her. He’s just afraid. Ever since he first discovered he is in the thoughts system, back when he was fifteen years old and just became a trainee, he has worried if he’ll ever match up to the idealized version she has of him in her mind. Y/N doesn’t know it, he promised himself he wouldn’t tell her until they really met, but he’s been falling for her since the day she first asked why he wants to strangle a certain maknae.

Jinyoung decides then and there that neither of them are going to wait much longer. He’s tired of only imagining what she looks like, dreaming about how it would feel to have her in his arms. He’s going to start putting in as much effort as she is, beginning with ‘persuading’ Jaebum to finally end practice for the night.

“Jaebum hyung,” Jinyoung calls for the leader’s attention. “I think that’s enough for today.” Jaebum raises a brow, and opens his mouth to respond when one of the maknaes beats him to it.

“Ah?” Bambam grunts from his place on the floor. “How come Jinyoung hyung gets to decide when practice ends? I wanna go home, too.”

“Because I don’t drain his pockets whenever we got out to eat.”

“That’s debatable,” Mark scoffs. “Remember that time at the karaoke bar-”

“Jinyoung’s right,” Jaebum interrupts. “We’ve been here long enough, and it won’t do any good to be sleep deprived tomorrow.” He glances at the exhausted members, all in various states of tiredness. “Let’s finish for the day.”

Sighs of relief ensue around the room, as everyone collects their belongings and slowly start to filter out the door. Jaebum is the last to leave, and Jinyoung sends him a nod of thanks as he exits. A feeling of determination is set in his chest, and he hopes he’s not too late to catch Y/N before she drifts off to sleep.

Jieun’s question sticks in my mind, plaguing me as I lay in bed that night. Yeah, there might not be a huge number of Jinyoungs in the world, but that doesn’t necessarily make my search any easier. I know enough about my Jinyoung; what he likes and dislikes, his mannerisms and habits. I like to think I’d be able to recognize him fairly easily. Unfortunately, that doesn’t necessarily mean I know what he looks like. The few times I’ve gotten a look at my soulmate have been during the few times we’ve soul-swapped, and that started to happen less and less as we’ve both matured. Not that I necessarily want them to happen, considering how damn disorienting they are, but what Jinyoung currently looks like as opposed to the last glimpse I got five years ago would be a great help.

I groan, running my hands down my face in an attempt to drown out my restless thoughts. This is so not what I want to be doing at ten minutes past midnight.

“Can’t sleep?”

His sudden appearance immediately sends a feeling of calm through my limbs. A smile ghosts my lips, as I close my eyes, and let my arms fall to my sides with a sigh.

“That obvious?”

He chuckles, “Just a little bit, yeah.”

I stopped trying to understand why I hear Jinyoung’s thoughts in English years ago. I just chalked it up to another weird quirk of the universe, and learned to be thankful of the mental translator between my mind and his.

“What are you doing up this late?” I ask.

“Thinking about you.”

“Jinyoung.”

“Okay, okay,” He laughs. “I just got out of practice. I was thinking about you, though.”

“Why are you practicing so late? It’s not good for your health.” I furrow my brows, realizing I sound just like he did a couple years ago.

“Maybe I like it when you worry about me.”

“...Seriously?”

He sighs, “I’m...preparing for something big at work. After it comes, I’ll be able to rest as much as I want.”

Something in the back of my mind tells me that’s not true, but I don’t mention it to Jinyoung. This isn’t the first time he’s had ‘something big’ coming up, yet he refuses to tell me anything he actually does at work. I keep having to remind myself that even though we’re soulmates and have been talking to each other for several years now, we don’t actually know each other, and I’m not entitled to that information. Doesn’t make it any less frustrating, though.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Did...did you really come to Seoul to find me?”

My heart stops. How did he...? I never told Jinyoung about coming to Korea. He’s always so private, I didn’t know how he would react if I did. How did he even find out?

Then I remember the feeling from earlier, the one in the back of my mind during my conversation with Jieun and Soojin.

“This little shit was listening in.”

“I’m being genuinely honest when I say I didn’t mean to.”

“‘Didn’t mean to’? Jinyoung, that was a private conversation!”

“And I apologize!” He stresses. “But you haven’t answered my question yet.”

“I...”

“Actually, wait, don’t answer it. I don’t want to do it like this.”

“...Jinyoung? Are you okay?”

“Y/N, how far away are you from Gyeongui Park?”

I tug my jacket closer to me in a vain attempt to fight off the chill night air. What the hell is Jinyoung thinking? What the hell am I thinking? It’s almost one in the morning, now is not the time for me to be wandering around Gyeongui Park, half an hour away from my dorm. I sigh, plopping myself down on a nearby bench, and staring up at the starry sky.

Jinyoung stopped responding shortly after I left the dorm. I have no idea what he’s doing, or why he wanted me to come to Gyeongui in the middle of the night. He seemed nervous about something, and, to be honest, I can’t tell if the rapid thrumming in my chest is his or my own. I take a deep breath, and close my eyes to collect my thoughts.

I’m sitting in a park, by myself, in the wee hours of the night because a voice inside my head told me to. A small laugh bubbles past my lips. God, I sound like someone straight out of some cheesy romcom. Or a B-rated horror movie. Jieun always tells me I would be the one to die first. I wonder if the murderer would go easy on me if I told them I’m waiting here for my enigmatic soulmate.

Suddenly, my ears pick up the unmistakable sound of gravel crunching under shoes. Someone’s getting closer, and my chest tightens at the realization. I try one last time to reach my soulmate.

“Goddamnit, Jinyoung, if I get stabbed tonight, I’m going to haunt your ass for the rest of your life.”

The footsteps stop. All I hear is the sound of my own breathing, and my heart thumping against my ear drums.

“Y/N!” A familiar voice gasps. “Shit, this is not the way I wanted this to go...”

My eyes flick open, and I realize why I recognize the woman’s voice.

It’s mine.

I stare incredulously at my own face as my mind struggles to process what’s happening. If my body is there, then who...? I glance downwards, and everything starts to click into place.

“Jinyoung?” I ask tentatively, shiver running down my spine. “Is that you?”

“Yeah,” Jinyoung sighs, and I try to ignore how bizarre it sounds hearing my own voice. “I...don’t really know what to do right now. This isn’t how I wanted us to meet for the first time.”

“Not in our own bodies?” He looks down, kicking at the dirt on the ground, and sullenly nods his head. He juts out my lower lip in a small pout, and I can’t help but laugh.

Jinyoung immediately perks up, “What are you laughing at? Our first meeting is ruined! Years of waiting for this moment, and we don’t even get to see what each other look like! How are you not upset?”

“Jinyoung,” I start, gently grabbing his (my?) hand, and leading us towards the nearby bench. “This is pretty weird for me, too. I’m speaking a language I don’t understand right now, and looking into my own eyes. It’s just freaking bizarre.” I take a deep breath, softly squeezing my hand. “But I honestly don’t mind. I don’t need to stress about a perfect first meeting when I already know you’re perfect for me.” Jinyoung’s gaze drifts down to our hands, and he slowly intertwines our fingers. There we go.

I blink, and suddenly I’m staring down at my hand, my own hand, being tightly gripped by another. My eyes trail from our joined hands, up his arm, until they finally meet his. A warm feeling spreads through my chest, and I bite my lip to stop the smile from stretching across my face.

“Hi,” I whisper, giggling at the way he beams at me.

“Hey, there.” I tilt my head in confusion. Is this the weird translator’s work?

“How are you...?”

Jinyoung chuckles under his breath, “I have some...friends that are fluent in English, and when they found out my soulmate is absolutely horrendous at Korean,” I lightly smack his shoulder with my free hand, and he laughs before continuing, “I was forcefully enrolled in express classes.”

“I’m trying my best!” I insist, remembering the conversation I had with the girls earlier this evening. It’s strange, really; that feels like a lifetime ago, even though it’s only been a couple hours. Jinyoung tugs on my hand, drawing my attention back to him.

“You know, you still haven’t answered my question.” My brow furrows as Jinyoung moves closer, eyes sparkling with something I can’t pinpoint.

“What do you mean?”

“You came all the way to Seoul just for me. I didn’t realize I was that important to you already. I must be pretty damn special.”

I scoff, rolling my eyes playfully, “Says the one who caused a soul-swap because he was so nervous to meet me.”

“Really? Because I seem to recall that happening because someone thought I lured them to the park to be murdered.”

“You were listening, you little shit!” I exclaim, and Jinyoung smiles, leaning towards me. “Why didn’t you answer?”

“Maybe because I was too busy thinking about how to tell you I’m in love with you.”

I fall silent, watching the corners of Jinyoung’s lips turn up in amusement. His breath fans delicately across my face, forehead coming to rest against mine. My eyes remain locked in his gaze, and I start to feel warm despite the chill of the late night air. After what feels like an eternity, Jinyoung finally closes the distance between us. Our lips softly meet, and for a moment, I forget we’re sitting in a public park in the middle of the night. Jinyoung’s kiss is sweet, but passionate, his hands coming up to gently cradle my face between his palms. My eyes flutter closed, and I realize that I would sit on this bench with him forever if I could. Unfortunately, people aren’t built for that, and our lungs do eventually need air.

When we finally break apart, I feel lightheaded. Jinyoung’s eyes are bright and loving, and I can’t help but smile at him glowing under the moonlight.

“I love you, too, Jinyoung.”

oh, my god! hi! it’s certainly been a while since i posted a written piece like this, and it feels pretty good to get back into it! i took a break from writing prose for a bit to focus on my school work, and the semester’s coming to an end soon (which means finals) so i can’t necessarily say it won’t happen again. that said, i will try my best to keep writing and get more out.

if you liked this, and maybe want more got7 soulmate!aus, or even if you just want to see more of my stuff, i have links in my blog description to my most recent works and my entire masterlist! thanks for reading! -aly 💖

#jinyoung x reader #park jinyoung x reader #got7 jinyoung x reader #got7 x reader #got7 soulmate au #got7 fluff

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