This Is So Fun! I Love This!

This is so fun! I love this!

idol tonight!

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ synopsis: come along as you experience being boynextdoor's best friend. you met them as trainees and are now idols in your respective groups!

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ pairing(s): boynextdoor x trainee!f!reader, boynextdoor x idol!f!reader ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ genre: slice of life, written + smau ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ a/n: this is the masterlist for my casual boynextdoor series! my initial vision grew a bit more than i initially planned so it became a series.

chapters!

0 ୨୧ running to you

1 ୨୧ halfway there

2 ୨୧ like it's magnetic

3 & 4 ୨୧ game caterers: part one and two

5 ୨୧ haunting horrors

disclaimer: this, in no way, reflects the idol. this is purely fiction. ✧ comments are appreciated! ✧ !nanamlist

This was really good!

🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ LOOK MY WAY | kim seokjin (m)(r)

୨ৎ synopsis: He had noticed the lack of love in the moral world. Conflicted, he traveled to the moral world to figure out the problem in which he was only left with disappointment and no answers. Out of self-punishment, he goes by the name Seokjin and stays in the human world where he produces a perfume company in hopes of restoring love. However, he can't help but notice how his heart beats faster for an employee, and maybe, he can understand why there is a lack of love.

⋆.˚ genre: greek god x mortal au, non-idol au, modern history au, love at first sight, lovesick Seokjin, angst, sexual tension, semi-smut

⋆.˚ disclaimer. This story won't contain accurate greek mythology, Jin talks to Aprhodite (his mama in this story), lovesick jin, bow and arrow, Jin gets desperate and almost shoots the reader, kisses, angst, Jin experiences heart-break, sexual tension, semi-smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it), mini breeding kink if you squint, , english is not my first lenguage, if i missed anything let me know!

⋆.˚ a/note. I want to make a part two for this, but I am not sure, please let me know if you guys are interested! also, i was in a bit of a rush :c it's midterm season. I hope you all enjoy, like, comment and reblog! love yous!

|| masterlist || entry || part ii (maybe)?

Eros has seen the world grow. Bloom into the most curious society. What was once a life with no buildings that touched the sky, or with cement roads, Eros had grown to adapt.

The adaptation wasn't any of his concern, no, his worries and strengths lay in the relationship and love of the morals, which, throughout time has grown bitter. His concern didn't lie in the many lights the cities populated, or the noises the cars and bars created, but in the fact that no one believed in true love. 

Unsatisfied, Eros brought himself into the mortal realm, wanting to explore, to study, to understand and hopefully, redeem love. Yet, each time, he was left disappointed. There would be cases in which he was able to use his bow and arrow, creating a wonderful match. And there would be times where those relationships failed, why? He didn’t understand, was he failing as the god of love? Was cupid not important anymore? As self punishment, he decided to stay in the mortal realm in hopes of redeeming himself. 

He went by the name Seokjin, unable to use his given name. With his godly powers and influence, in the mortal realm, he lives a life of luxury, just like back in his immortal realm. His beauty was outstanding thanks to his mothers genes, the humans loved him. And during his time in the mortal realm, Madan flourished, a Perfume company. One in which he believed would bring love, humans loved the scent of perfume, right? 

And that’s where the gods had brought you. In front of a bridge building whose architecture resabled the building in ancient greece. The summer sun warmed your golden skin, the fresh wind blew your dark hair, as if nature was welcoming you into your home. Each step you took into the building caused your gut to yell, telling you, warning you, yet just like every warning, you brushed it away. 

You weren’t a model, you weren’t an influencer, heck, you weren’t a fashion icon. But the woman whose eyes landed on you sure were. It causes you to feel smaller, uglier. Could it have been their fair skin, their shiny hair or their style? You didn’t know, but you knew your appearance wasn’t welcomed. 

The moment you took the elevator to the 5th floor where your Marketing office would be at, your breath was knocked south out of you. You choked back a gasp, it smelled good. Too good. You felt a headache rising to your temples and dizziness. You wanted to take a deep breath, but it was impossible with the amount of goodness scent. 

“Are you alright?” the voice of the god spoke, you opened your eyes and tilted your head up. Glazing into some beautiful brown eyes, so beautiful, yet so sad, ‘Yes, just.. Headache.” You muttered, your eyes leaving him, “which floor?” You cleared your throat, “5.”

Jin never intended to lose control. No, he never wanted to. But he was losing his sanity, his will, and most importantly, himself. He never liked the idea of forced love, or love magic or anything that had to do with poisons. But his fingers would tingle at the idea that maybe, that was the solution. 

He stayed all day in his elegant office, high off the many scents; chocolate, vanilla, roses, cinnamon, anything that could bring the sense of desire. During his time on the mortal realm, he noticed the human’s like of smell, bringing an idea that if he produced the right scent, it could make one fall in love. It wasn’t exactly a love potion, no. Not at all, in fact, he wanted to resolve this without his bow and arrow, without his gift, because maybe it was time not to force love?

The meeting room was dark compared to the rest of the company building, it made you feel as if you were taking part in some evil plan when in fact you were meeting the CEO and discussing Marketing aspects with the team. Yet, your gut kept telling you that it wasn’t right. 

You turned your tablet on and started taking notes, drawing small doodles of the illustrations and predictions for the Spring edition collection, “No, I want something to last.” Your ears perked up as you turned your head to the chairman. Everyone in the room is doing the same. He rubbed his forehead with two of his fingers, “I don’t want to repeat fragrances, I want it to last.” 

The presenter licked their lips and uncomfortably shifted from where they stood, “Oh well.. I..” They stuttered, their eyes dancing around the many faces in the room, “We.. We can try oils instead of perfumes?” You muttered out, unsure. 

The chairman’s eyes landed on you, causing you to flinch. You pressed your lips into a thin line and cursed yourself as you noticed his expression change, “or maybe not..” you whispered. “What’s your name?” you lost your job. Is what would have happened if Jin didn’t appreciate your idea. 

“y/n, y/n l/n. I’m new in the Marketing team.” You introduced yourself. Jin only stared at you, letting out a breathy chuckle, “Welcome to the team, y/n. I would like to hear more about those oils.” You thanked the gods above for sending Jin as your boss.  

You didn't know if Jin made your life easier or harder. On one hand, he knows what he wants, he has a goal. On the other hand, he doesn't know what he wants, or, in other words, how to deliver that goal. You've been working carefully with Jin and the fragrance team to come up with a new scent. One that lasts like Jin wanted.

"No, I want the smell to attract, to.. I don't know.." Jin threw his hands up in defeat before dropping them back down, slapping the sides of his leg, "attract desire on people."

"So.. lust?" You question as you took notes on your tablet. Three months. Three freaking months is what took you to be Jin's right hand in this project. Three fucking months to be his assistant. Jin's neck snaped towards you and you were sure you heard it crack.

"I don't do lust," Jin hissed, "I do love, passion." He sighed. You nodded at his words, tapping your apple pen on your tablet, "But.. these notes.. they point to lust.."

"What.." Jin breathed, feeling too tired, too stressed. "How can anyone think about falling in love, when they're so tempted by lust?" you asked, taking a breath before continuing, "Love isn't something that can be forced or attracted by a simple trait. There's supposed to be chemistry.. affection? not desire.. or want, but longing." You explained.

Jin let out a breathy laugh. His hands resting on his hips as he turned around. His laughed turned into a sarcastic one, sending you into freeze mode. He looked desperate, mad even, “I can’t keep falling.” he uttered out, his head hanging low, “you’re not failing, sir..” Jin only laughed, shaking his head. “You’re only saying that because I am your boss.”

You shook your head, setting your coat and tablet down, “No, I mean it. You’re so talented and splendid, you have a gift, sir.” Jin almost snored at your comment. He had a gift alright, but even with his gift, he was a failure. Or maybe his gift had run out. “No, I have no gift.” 

You frowned, “I have no fucking gift. If I did, I wouldn’t be stuck here. I wouldn’t be working on perfumes that help people recognize love and desire, I wouldn’t be standing here, being explained what love is, when it's supposed to be my thing.. I would be back home.. I'm a joke.”

You pitied the man in front of you. He must have had a rough life, you believed. One in which he had to live up to accomplishments, to success. Just like you felt at times. You sighed, “If it’s alright..” you took a step closer to the man, his gaze lifting from the floor to your eyes, “can I give you a hug?” 

“A hug?” puzzled, Jin frowned. You nodded, getting closer and softly wrapping your arms around him. He tensed at your touch, he was never touched this way before, or touched at all, in fact. “It’s okay, Jin.” You whispered softly. Your voice comes to him in comfort, “Success takes time, no one is perfect.” But he’s supposed to. Jin softly gave into the embrace, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning his head on your shoulder. 

Jin never intended to lose himself, but he was going insane. Among all scents and perfumes he's worked on, none of them matched with yours. Because as he hugged you, his arms tightening around your waist, nose digging into the crook of your neck, he felt his heart flutter. You didn’t only smell like coconut with a mixture of vanilla, you didn’t only smell like cinnamon and caramel, you didn’t only smell like fresh laundry and lavender, but you smelt of comfort and hope. 

Your embrace loosed the moment you felt Jin tremble on top of you. The smile you had on your face completely gone as you tried pulling away from him. His arms held you in place, pulling you back into the hug as he let out a sniff, his voice weak and heavy, “Let’s stay like this.. Just for a little.” And you accepted it. 

You found Jin to be a very interesting person. He had strange tastes, or just simply didn't care. If anything, he didn't have any boundaries. He acted like he ruled the world, and honestly, if you had that amount of money, you would too.

Jin had smoothly and noticeably made it a habit to take you to his home, his house to practice give him some therapy. Oddly, enough, it didn't feel like therapy sessions.

"Maybe, I ain't cut up for this.." Jin muttered, his fingers resting on his lip. It's been around two months since that intimate hug, and ever since then, Jin had gotten.. well, he clung onto you.

You hesitantly reached, placing your hand on his back before rubbing it softly. It'll become sort of like a habit for you to comfort him. You didn't mind. You wanted to help. He lifted his head, looking at you, "you're more capable than you think, Jin."

You smiled softly, causing Jin's heart to flatter once more. What did you have to cause his heart to beat like crazy? Taking a breath which got caught, he scanned your features, falling into a spell, "..y/n."

You couldn't understand the strange tension in Jin's eyes whenever you were too close to him, touching him even. Words of comfort always caused Jin to look at you with such intimacy. Something you never got to experience in other relationships. Jin brought his body closer, nose almost touching before you realized, waking up from an enchantment.

"I..uh.. sorry, I'll head out.." you stuttered out, making your way towards the door. Each step you took made Jin's heart pound louder in his ears. How was he to tell you that he liked you? He liked you perhaps a little too much.

Jin followed behind, his thought train speeding through his mind. Without hesitation, He extended his arm, recreating holding his bow and that's when he felt it. Love can't be forced.

His heart dropped as he shook his head, running to you, "I'm sorry, y/n.. please.." You said softly but loud enough for you to hear.

Jin held your wrist, stopping you from taking a step. You turned towards him, avoiding eye contact, “Y/n..” his voice came out as a faint whisper, as if he was trying to reach for you. Your eyes betrayed you, slowly lifting their gaze to meet Jin’s and you silently cursed whoever made the man in front of you. His eyes enchanted you, hypnotized you even. His soft plump lips tilted into a small smile, leaning his face closer to you and your eyes took a quick glance at his lips before lifting them up to meet his eyes. 

His fingers lightly held your chin, making sure to keep your head in place, not wanting you to leave his gaze, “Stay with me..” the words left his mouth, putting you into a spell in which you couldn’t escape, “please?”

You swallowed, but you nodded. Jin only let out a small breath as he grinded, his other hand coming to hold and wrap around your waist before he leaned closer. Both your nose brushed against each other, and of course you let out a faint whine. Jin’s thumb brushed your bottom lip, causing a small shiver to run down your spine at the warmth, “you’re so.. Enchanting..”

Your eyes looked down at his lips and as if answering your silent question he pressed his lips against yours. Both your lips chasing after each other in a deeper kiss. Your arms flew to wrap around his neck, locking him into the kiss in which he didn’t complain. His touches were ghostly against your skin, afraid to touch you as if you would melt away. Your touches were clingy and desperate, wanting him to touch and melt you away. 

That night you experienced so much emotion through physical contact, emotion in which you never imagined ever to experience in this lifetime. His hands were gentle as he held your wrist, his thumb brushing against your wrist as he thrust his hips against yours. His other holding the back of your neck as he stared at your face, taking in every expression as he rolled his hips into you. 

You would let out a whiney sob as you opened your eyes, a glass filled vision as tears built up from the pure pleasure Jin was giving you, your jaw widening as you let out a silent moan. Jin let out a soft grunt as he felt you tighten yourself around his cock, sending his eye to twitch out in pleasure as he leaned onto your neck. Brushing his lips against your pulse point before he kissed and sucked marks onto your skin. 

Your hands ran down his back, nails digging into his skin the moment you felt your sixth orgasm of the night build up, “Jin..” you cried out in which he responded with a soft hush, “I know, darling..”

It’d become odd. The relationship between you and Jin, ever since that night. It had seemed that both of you were nothing during the day, but the moment everyone left the office leaving both your souls, you’ve become different people. 

He would crack jokes, take you out for dinner, drop you at home. He would never ask for a kiss, nor a hickey, all he asked for was for your time. And it terrified you. It must have been 7 months since the night you slept together and Jin had not treated you any different, but your mind would shift towards the worst. 

Maybe you were horrible in bed, were you too loud? You felt something crawl up your leg, it felt like the legs of a spider. Perhaps you were too ugly? It didn’t take long for the overwhelming feeling of insecurity to crawl over your whole body. 

That night as you sat in the chair in the middle of the island in Jin’s kitchen, you fought the urge to ask him. His back faced towards you as he cooked up pasta. He always did this, at least every Friday. Take you to his home where he would cook for you, make you laugh, make you feel special and then sleep tangled in his arms. It scared you. 

“Was I bad?” you asked, setting the fork down as you’ve lost your appetite, Jin only looked up from his plate as he slurped a noodle, frowning. “I mean..” Jin then set his fork down, wanting to have his full attention on you, “when we slept together, was I bad?” 

He tilted his head, unsure of how to answer your question. You felt nervous under his gaze, “No, not at all?” He questioned, unsure where you were getting at, “Then why haven’t we done it?” Your voice came out as a whisper, Jin then swallowed as he blinked, “Because I didn’t think you'd want it.” 

The kitchen fell silent. Jin continued, “I want you.” he paused, straightening his back as he chased your eyes to lock with them, “all the fucking time.” It was your turn to be left speechless, “I want to take you everywhere every time, but I know it’s not right, not without your permission.” The table fell silent again, and as both of you ate once more, you debated with yourself. 

After washing the dishes, Jin brought you to the living room in which he turned the TV, “I find it so fascinating how humans can come up with these things. So creative.” You let out a chuckle as you sat on the couch, you back sinking into the comfort of the pillows. Selecting a streaming app, Jin also leaned back, laying next to you as an arm rested above your shoulders. “I’m serious, you guys are interesting.” 

You only leaned onto his shoulder as he selected the Movie he mentioned a moment ago while washing the dishes, “Percy Jackson is.. Hm..” Jin hummed, thinking back to his life as a god. Your eyes looked up at his pouting face, “I think it’s cute.” 

You hummed as you reached over for the blanket, covering your body. “Cute?” Jin frowned as looked down at you, “I meant as in, the gods having kids. I don’t know anything about all that Greek God bullshit, but them having kids seems like a cool concept.” You explained yourself as your eyes settled at the screen before you. 

Jin’s thoughts shut off, staring at the wall next to the TV trying to progress what you mentioned. His eyes squinted a bit, imagining a world in which he potentially had a child, is that even possible?

“If you were a god, let’s say,” you asked, snapping Jin out of his thoughts, “and you had a child, would you let them go through all that just to accept them?” You asked, your brows frowned as you looked at the screen. Jin took a deep breath, “No.”

“Me neither. You have children out of love, not to keep the bloodline going.” You muttered, cuddling the blanket closer to you, "If i were to be a mom one day, I would never let my child think they had to live up to my expectations to receive my love."

Jin blinked. love. what really did it mean, what came with it. He rubbed his fingertips together, feeling the softness of his own skin before he sat up, looking at you. "Can we sleep together?"

You rubbed your eyes, already feeling tired, "what?" Jin leaned down towards you, "Can I kiss you?" Your eyes widened a bit, but nothertheless, you nodded.

You regretted it instantly. Your wrists were pinned behind your lower back and your face lay on the couch as Jin pounded you from behind. Small grunts and moans filled the living room, some being washed away by the sound of the TV. You twitched under him, feeling the tight knot in your stomach, "fuck Jin.."

You gasped out, kicking your feet a bit. Jin only tilted his head back, feeling his cock twitch as he slipped in and out of you, furiously slamming into you from behind, "you're so good to me, y/n.." he moaned.

His hand gripped the fat on your hip, bringing you back to him as he fucked into you, "so pretty.." he muttered, his head coming back to look at the way your cunt took his dick. "gonna fill you up so good, so full.." his head was thrown back, and soft moans left his mouth. His breath hitched when a load of his milky white cum shot out, causing you to gasp out as you soon felt your own orgasm clasp.

Jin kept thrusting, slow and gentle, making sure to keep his load in you. He knew that what he wanted was very slim, but the thought lingered, "I promise to take you everywhere.. I'mma make you feel loved and satisfied."

Jin kept his word and he did take you whenever he could. Whether that was bending you over his office table or having you ride him in his car in the company's parking lot. It worried you how much time and stigma the man had. He was out of this world.

"I don't just have sex, y/n." He laughed. Settling into his bed, your body already too tired as you closed your eyes, "I make love." He chuckled as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his body. You wanted to protest, to argue with him. we're not in love, is what you wanted to tell him. But maybe it was a conversation of another day.

You were terrified. Nothing could have prepared you for what you were about to experience. You rubbed your temple as you walked into Jin's office floor, throat dry. You were confused, drowned in complex emotions.

It was about 8 pm, and everyone on the floor had gone home, or so you thought. Opening the door to Jin's office, the smell of what was once so pleasant to your nose caused you to cringe in disgust. This was no pleasant scent, but it was a familiar one.

The smell of sex reeked your nose as you quickly covered it, your eyes frowned as you noticed Jin in the middle of the office. His hair was a mess, clothes sticking to his body by sweat. You only scanned the room, no one was there. But nothing hid the fact of what had happened in that office.

"I'm sorry." You whispered, closing the door. You stared at your feet for a second trying to progress what had happened. Door handle still in hand, you tighened your grip before making your mind up. And the moment you let go, the door opened with Jin trying to reach for you.

"Y/n, it's not what you think." He started, following after you, "I don't care, Jin." you spat, "I mean it, y/n. I.." He huffed out, wanting to hold you from taking another step from him, "I love you." That's where you felt your heart drop.

“No, Jin, you’re confusing love and lust, please!” You pant out, your hands trembling as you hold your coat close to you. You felt tears build up in the corner of your eyes. You were hurt, tired, and scared. You reached the elevator, pressing the button. “You don’t love me, Jin.”

The elevator was going to take a while, you knew that. You took a deep breath in, trying to calm your trembling voice, not wanting to show how much of an effect he had on you, “You need me, yes, but you don’t need me.” Jin licked his lips, noticing how dry they’ve become. He was puzzled, confused. He, Eros, the god of love doesn’t know what love is? 

“That is.. No.. That..” he breathed, the elevator dinged, opening its doors as it gave you an escape. Jin closed his eyes as he shook his head. His heartbeat was close to his lungs, his body felt on edge, and he felt panic. “Y/n.” He held onto the elevator door, his grip tight as his knees felt weak, “I need you.. So much..”

His eyes cried out in desperation as he scanned for any sign of understanding, of longing. You stared at him, you felt your nose become stuffy, ready to cry. His cheeks had turned flustered and his eyes had watered, he looked like a mess, a gorgeous one, “There isn’t one day that my heart doesn’t ache for you. There isn’t one second where I want to be near you, please y/n..” 

He wanted to kneel in front of you, begging for you. Years and years of being worshiped, he never thought of a day in which he would worship anyone. But you arrived and changed everything, “words cannot describe how I crave for you, y/n.”

A single tear escaped your eyes, slowly rolling down your cheek as you stared at Jin, and before you knew it, you couldn’t hold the rest of them back. You let out a silent sob as you pushed Jin’s hand off the elevator door, pressing the closing button, “I’ll send in my resignation and you better accept it.”

The moment the doors closed, Jin felt his whole world collapse. Maybe he did too, maybe he too fell to the ground and sobbed, letting out painful cries as he held his chest. His hand clenched his heart as he let his tears flee. His lungs hurt from the lack of oxygen, too mournful to let any of it in. The lack of oxygen didn’t hurt as much as his heart cried for you. 

The next couple of weeks felt like a visit to the underworld where Hades lived. So cold, so dark, so lonely. And out of respect, he stayed away from you. And out of love, he accepted your resignation. Yet the moment he signed the paper, he felt like you had taken a piece of his heart with you, while he was only left with the brief memory of you, not worthy of any piece of you. 

His days had turned gloomy, his attitude had become pissy, and his heart still throbbed with pain. He had taken a break from the company. What was once his mission to restore love had been thrown out the window. Now he understood why morals were too scared to fall in love. 

SeokJin looked up at the bright night sky, his eyes staring at the sea of stars, but none looked as beautiful as you. No, he wasn’t ashamed to mention it, you could be just as beautiful as his mother. Were she to meet you, she would for sure assume you were one of her children. His throat spat a sob, his eyes sore from crying. Was this what it felt to love someone? The back of his hand covered his mouth, not wanting to make another sound as another tear rolled down his face. Why did loving someone hurt so much? 

Maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t cut out to be the god of love. He didn’t know anything about love. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he let out a dry sob, “Mom, what am I doing?” he asked basically no one, “What am I made for if it’s not love?” and deep down his heart broke just a little more. 

A/N. love is like a fart, if it's forced, it's probably shit.

This story is so good!

Enchanted to Meet You Masterlist

⋙ pairing: Lee Know x fem!reader

⋙ synopsis: When Minho is accidentally turned into a cat by his warlock roommate, he ends up in the home of a veterinarian student.

⋙ genre: non Idol au, college au, magic au, strangers to lovers.

⋙ rating: PG-13 (swearing tho)

⋙ status: COMPLETE

⋙ taglist: closed

[The Animal Farm] || [SKZ Coven]

『••✎••』 = written parts

00. preview

01. we don't talk about homeward bound

02. i tried my best. time for nap.

03. meow, asshole

04. because I'm a cat 『••✎••』

05. movie night. 『••✎••』

06. do you have a boyfriend?

07. i don’t like him.

08. just this one time. 『••✎••』

09. pick up the phone. 『••✎••』

10. the roommate situation

11. ...simp

12. I need a favor

13. no natural predators.

14. cute couple

15. i wish i knew 『••✎••』

16. two christmases 『••✎••』

17. the roommate situation pt 2 『••✎••』

18. shut in boyfriend

19. i like you

20. it's the little things 『••✎••』

21. everything out in the open『••✎••』

22. the amulet pt. 1 『••✎••』

23. the amulet pt.2 『••✎••』

24. the amulet pt. 3 『••✎••』

25. whatever you want [the end]

1 year anniversary special. the hiccups.

omg I loved this! Can’t wait to see what happens next!

Can you please do a rich seokjin x reader wherein he grovels for oc 🙏😭 Like he did not defend oc when his parents were being mean to her and even defended them something like that hahaha I live for angst fics so much ❤️❤️❤️❤️ (Thank you in advance btw! I really really enjoy your fics!)

hii thanks! love it when requests are specific!! please send in more of these :D

'm dividing this into two parts because it's too long for me to call it a drabble

please, please, please [1/2] (ksj)

pairing: seokjin x reader

genre: sugar daddy turned boyfriend!seokjin x middle-class, unemployed!reader ALSO dilf!seokjin. angst, fluff, and barely-there smut (in the next part) yet again because i'm taking tiny baby steps towards the big girl stuff.

warnings: there's an ex-wife, unkind parents, and typical rich people behaviour: take that as you may!

The evening had started on a high note.

The birds were chirping, the breeze was gentle. Yada yada. You centred yourself with your boyfriend's son, Sehun's, giggles, to distract slash calm yourself. At the same time, Seokjin's entire family and friends (and you) gathered under the warm glow of temporary lamps installed specifically for the occasion in his backyard.

Admittedly, it's borderline disrespectful to call it a backyard when it was easily over an acre of lush grassland, adorned with flower fields, and a horse farm. With champagne-equipped golf carts, decorated with wisterias and vines, used to transport the party goers from one place to another, and well-dressed staff to guide everyone. And you kept seeing the fairest doves. You wonder if that was natural or of they were introduced to the area for the party.

You knew your boyfriend slash sugar daddy was rich, but you had no idea just how rich.

As the evening progressed, the mood, specifically yours, began to shift---bit by bit, for the worse. Your once nervous yet lively aura had grown strained.

It was such a shit-show.

Starting with Seokjin's parents who couldn't pretend to be nice for the life of them, or was that intentional? Perhaps to scare you off or something. Because it worked.

They were distant, awkward, and nothing like Seokjin had described them to be. You were under the impression that you'd be meeting your second family, an extension of your own.

Boy, were you mistaken.

You were met with so much... inhospitality and indifference.

It was so bad you had to walk away from your table a few times just to stop your tears from falling and ruining your makeup.

They kept talking about Sehun's mother and Seokjin's perfect ex-wife, as if you weren't sitting right across them. Speaking of their relationship in present tense--- 'Oh, you're so beautiful together.' 'The perfect family.' 'She's the best daughter-in-law anyone could ask for.'

All the while, you're the one with a promise ring on your finger.

Seokjin, obviously, interrupted them everytime. But even he eventually tired himself out too.

Every time you attempted to make conversation with the pair, you were met with blank stares.

You couldn't even escape them because Sehun was off with his caretaker, being his 6 year old self, uncaring of where he is. You had nobody to go to except the man you were already seated next to.

"Seokjin," his mother began, "When you mentioned planning a soirée, I assumed you were getting back with Yewon."

His father added, "Your mother and I were so happy."

Were.

Seokjin exchanged an uneasy look with you.

You expected him to defend you. Maybe just give them a little scolding. Or a simple yet stern 'be normal.'

But instead, he just scoffs and laughs.

That was it.

Shakily sighing, you excused yourself for the seventh time that night to lick your wounds in privacy.

This time, when you didn't return after ten minutes, Seokjin comes looking for you, immediately finding you stood near his favourite Magnolia tree.

You looked like you were in deep thought and a little tipsy. And you were thinking up a storm. How was this going to play out? Would you be made to break up with each other? Would Seokjin leave you?

He paused to your right, "_____, I know this isn't enough but I really am sorry. I had no idea they'd react this way."

Defeated, you whisper, "I don't even know how to act. I mean... it doesn't matter because it's not like they'd even notice."

You add, "And you're right. It's not enough." Angry, you rapidly turn to face him, "You keep letting them treat me like I'm invisible. And they keep talking about Yewon and your, oh, so perfect marriage as if she didn't cheat on you. I mean, you technically cheated on each other later anyway, right?"

Seokjin's expression darkened. He tilted his head in disbelief, "_____. I can't believe you'd bring that up."

"Is that why they don't like me? Because they know I'm your mistress?"

Seokjin's scowl deepens, "Don't talk about yourself like that, _____."

Oh!

Mockingly raising your brow at him, you laugh, "Oh, but it's okay for mommy and daddy to talk about me 'like that'?" You make air quotations at 'like that.'

"Of course, it isn't! But, that's just how they are. They're horrible people, _____." He exasperates, "And I know there's no changing their mind. So do yourself a favour and just... don't bother about what they think or say. It's not important." He's breathing heavy when he finishes.

You painstakingly digest each of his words.

Now, there are two possible meanings of his advice.

Don't worry about mommy and daddy because you and I are the only ones who matter!

OR

Don't worry about mommy and daddy because you're disposable anyway!

But, you're not sober enough to decide yet.

Seokjin caresses your naked, cold, arm with a warm hand. His fingers travel up to your décolletage, grazing against it, then further upwards to gently fix the diamond necklace he bought you on your last birthday.

He then takes his blazer off to drape it over your shivering shoulders.

Seokjin looks at you, carefully choosing his tone to reflect his state of mind: apologetic, "I promise we can leave after Yewon gets here. My parents invited her too. And, she'll be taking Sehun to her place today."

You wait for him to continue because you know there's more.

"We'll greet her. Cordially. Bid goodbye immediately after. And see Sehun once before we head to your place. Is that... Would you be okay with that?"

The fact that Seokjin, as the host, was going to leave his own party for you makes you feel guilty. But you knew you would not be able to deal with Seokjin's relatives any longer.

So you nod once, "Ok."

He links your arms together and walks you back to the main event where they serve the good stuff. Yay for you!

*

"Seokie! You look great. _____, you too! Your hair looks amazing." Yewon grins at you.

"Thank you, Yewon. You look beautiful as well." Seokjin answers for the two of you as you drunkenly smile at her.

(Two) hours had passed since Seokjin promised you you could leave after Yewon arrived. Which meant you had two too many hours to down the seemingly bottomless Champagne flutes.

Yewon observes you with concern and raises a brow at your boyfriend. Seokjin simply nodded in response, with his arm still wrapped around you, supporting your weight.

Not oblivious to the silent conversation going on in front of you, you nuzzle your face directly into his chest.

Yewon is lovely. She's the best ex-wife any girlfriend could've asked for. Respectful, friendly even, and... normal.

Still, you've always been jealous of their relationship.

They still had chemistry, and were great co-parents.

There was nothing stopping Seokjin from going back to her. Well, there's you, but had you not been in his life, you wonder if they'd have gotten back together.

"There you are! Kim Yewon, my favourite daughter." Holding Yewon by her waist, Seokjin's mother feigns anger, "Now, why did it take you so long to get here?"

Was she 12? You hate her. So much. All you want is for Seokjin to make her... stop.

"In all honesty, I overslept." Yewon smiles, embarrassed.

Mrs. Kim sighs dramatically, "Well, you are a doctor. You deserve to rest. You work too hard."

"Ah, yes... Maybe... Why don't we go find Sehun? _____ and Seokjin are leaving soon." Yewon is evidently aware of how his family is reacting to you, and wants to minimize all of her interactions and words exchanged with the Kims.

At that Mrs. Kim looks at her son bewildered, "You're going to leave your own party? That's just rude."

THAT'S rude?

"I'm sorry, mom. We," Seokjin raises your clasped hands up, "have important plans."

"Well... What could be more important than family? You're just going to leave your son and his mother to fend for themselves?"

.

>:(

.

Hm.

Now... what happens in the next few minutes, you blame slash credit the alcohol.

You don't understand why he had to lie because you certainly had no issue with telling the real reason you were leaving.

"That's right, Mrs. Kim, Seokjin chose me. We don't have," you make air quotes when you say this, "important plans, we, my boyfriend and I, we, just want to get as far away from you as possible because you have a chip up your ass and you walk around with a stick on your shoulder."

Seokjin and Yewon froze.

"And Seokjin hates you." You spat. "He hates you so much he planned a gigantic party just so he wouldn't have to spend more than a few minutes with you at once."

You want to stop but your mouth works faster than your brain.

"Seokjin hates you so much he always needs other people around you to cut the tension."

At this point you were word vomiting.

"He hates you so much he keeps himself busy with work. And when he's not at work, he's with me. And my family," - "_____, stop talking," Seokjin sternly scolds.

But you don't hear him, "- because he loves me. And Sehun, and he loves my mother because she isn't a narcissistic bitch who treats her son like-" You stop.

Seokjin squeezes your hand as if he were begging you to shut the fuck up as Mrs. Kim stares at you in contempt; her face red, nose flared, jaw, and fists clenched.

But you don't budge, "His marriage is over. Understand that. It's like you don't even care about what he's been through."

"_____, please."

Seokjin's request has fallen to deaf ears once again.

You continue, "All you do is criticize his choices and decisions. You don't even care that Yewon cheated on your son because you're just as up her ass as you are up your own."

At that, Seokjin instantly drags you away from the two women. Both Mrs. Kims.

He takes you back to the tree.

You half expect him to make out with you because he looked... somewhat worked up.

The pins in your hair are starting to feel a little too tight and you feel sweaty even though it's freezing.

"What the fuck is the matter with you?"

You drunkenly stare at him, eyes widened in genuine confusion. You place a hand on your chest, "Me?"

"You had no right to cause a scene like that. I told you we were leaving. I was handling it."

But he was, in fact, not handling it. You helped him!

Seokjin needed someone to back him up. If he couldn't stand up for himself, you didn't expect him to stand up for you.

You owlishly blink up at him.

"_____, this isn't high school. You're not a child. You can't go around yelling at adults about how mean they are."

"I was just trying to hel-"

"This isn't a movie, _____. This is real life. My life. And Yewon's. My mother didn't know the real reason we broke up. And you had no right to tell her."

Now, that's news to you. And what the hell? Do you even exist in this picture?

"Well, obviously, I didn't fucking know that. And, thanks a lot. Now I know just how much I mean to you." You begin pulling your hair pins out as you turn to leave his premises.

"_____." Seokjin gently grabs your wrist, "We're not done here."

You rip yourself away from his grip, "I think we are! Obviously, you have no space for me in your life. And Yewon's!" Your lips quiver contrasting the accusatory words that just slipped through your tongue.

He rolls his eyes, "_____, that's not what I meant. You know that's not what I was saying."

You resembled an angry kitten with your hair a little wild from pulling all those clips out, and eyes red and puffy as if you'd start tearing up any time now.

"I don't want to be your fuckdoll anymore! I'm done!" With a shaky yet final sigh, you turn back around, lift your gown so you don't trip, and storm off.

While you didn't want him to stop you because you were in no mood to fight a grown man, you were more upset that he just let you walk away from him.

You didn't want to end your relationship like this. Although you know this isn't permanent, you can't help but wonder if he'd even try with you anymore.

note: so tumblr ate up part of this story and the other note i had added, so this is me rewriting it. i can't make asks private so here we are. i'm upset my writing didn't get saved. i don't know if this version is better or worse.

either way, please tell me what you think.

familiarity (it’s all sticky) — myung jaehyun

peter parker!jaehyun x spiderman!reader

wc — 4k genre & warnings — exes (to sort of lovers?), angst, touch of fluff, ghost-spider au, hurt/comfort (both physical and emotional), discussions of wounds and depictions of blood, reader’s hair is long enough to be tucked behind their ear, mentions of non-sexual stripping and showering playlist — nonviolent communication by metro boomin, james blake, a$ap rocky, & 21 savage // hummingbird by metro boomin & james blake notes — spidermyung save me... (sunwoo & dk vers) thank u again to cat for betareading the og ver like always <3 posting this because i have another spidermyung fic in the works anyway <3 if you enjoyed reading, please do reblog & leave feedback! request to be part of the taglist! masterlist

synopsis — you’re not sure why you decide to show up at your ex’s place all wounded up from tonight’s battle.

new york city never falls silent. the bustle of every new yorker can be heard through their footsteps,  the wheels that glide against the train tracks along with the beeps of taxis sound throughout the city. the metropolis stays alive in every street, every alleyway, every corner. no matter what hour it may be, each pavement is wide awake.

but the lights seem hazy tonight; the luminescence pours out of every building, the led boards are only blurs of silhouettes and illegible words. normally, you would warn against going out if someone could barely make sense of what these signs say, but you never seem to follow your own advice.

as you swing through the city, web clinging onto every building, blood continues to seep through the white spandex that covers you from head to toe. your body feels heavy, the pain in your lower abdomen continuing to spike with every movement—every swing—you make.

you bite on your lip, holding back the whimpers. your eyes dart through every street sign you pass. with every swing, you realize you’re nowhere close to where you should be. instead… 

you don’t allow yourself to think it over. maybe the loss of blood has you moving out of impulse, but for now, you can only think of getting rid of the pain.

you swing around the corner before landing down at the familiar fire escape, paint-chipped and rusted just like you remember. a hiss leaves your mouth as your hand reaches out to the spot where the blood continues to seep through, holding it down to keep pressure on the wound.

you’re face-to-face with the window; the reflection of you all suited up in some persona is a sight you’re accustomed to—but not on the glass of his window. you’re not sure why you came back here, injured in an identity he only knew of through word of mouth.

but the throbbing in your abdomen doesn’t give you enough time to think more about it. pushing the window up, you throw one leg over the edge into the apartment. your eyes quickly scan through the familiar space—a room you once treated as yours.

pillows scattered and bedsheets wrinkled, the walls are littered with the same posters of comics he swears to be the best of all time, along with his desk, littered with trinkets you haven’t seen since the day you left him—ones that he talked about to you back then with so much joy.

as you attempt to get your other leg over the edge of the window, you yelp at the sharp pain that strikes. “fuck,” you whimper, gasping out a breath. another groan rips out from your throat as you force your leg over, head resting on the frame with closed eyes, bracing yourself through the wave of pain that follows.

as pants continue to leave your mouth, your senses tingle as your ears catch the sound of footsteps on the other side of the room. you attempt to stand up only for another groan to leave your lips, and you realize it’s too late—the door creaks open, revealing the man you haven’t been face-to-face with since you said your farewell months ago.

dressed in an oversized white tee and a pair of black shorts, jaehyun stands with a bag of chips in his hand and disheveled hair, eyes wide and gaping. you can only assume he was fresh from bed.  

“s-spiderman?!” he looks around, noticing the mess that you’re being exposed to. before you can register it, he rushes in, dropping the bag of chips somewhere near the doorway, and tries to tidy his bed. “w-what are you doing here? i think you might’ve entered the wrong room,” he stutters as he attempts to fix his pillows and bedsheets (poorly, if you may say). 

somehow, the sight of jaehyun all frazzled makes you smile behind your mask. the idea of your—no, you mean, this guy all worried about you seeing how untidy he lives makes you chuckle.

but as you laugh, pain shoots through your lower abdomen once more. you cough out before hissing, pressing onto the wound. it takes everything in you to keep your body upright until you feel a pair of hands rest on your shoulders. you look up only to be met with his worried expression.

and you spot the way his eyes trail down to where your hand rests. you’re thankful that the mask could hide the heat that rises to your cheeks.

“oh god, you need that treated,” jaehyun’s eyes snap back up to you, and your breath hitches. even after all these months, he still holds stars in his eyes.

it’s been a while since you last saw him up close. the bags on his under eyes have turned a few shades darker, and you notice an eyelash that rests on his cheek. you don’t think about what you do next, your free hand reaching out to his face, and his breath hitches. once you pick it out, you flick the strand off of your fingers, and that’s when you realize the mistake you committed.

“s-sorry,” you choke out. although you try to keep your voice as low and gruntled as possible, he frowns. he bites the inside of his cheek as his eyes flicker between your masked face and the wound.

“i-i don’t know how to help. i can call for an ambulan—”

you grab onto his arm before he can leave. as you shake your head, he gulps. “i can’t really help you,” he says, but your grip doesn’t falter. with that, he lets out a sigh before kneeling in front of you. his hands find themselves on the ledge, his arms now caging your frail figure. “do you have someone in mind who can help you?”

jaehyun’s question is innocent. you’re sure the last thing he meant was to mock your situation—showing up in a “stranger’s” room unannounced—but it strikes a chord in you.

you haven’t spoken to him since you broke up a few months back. when you’re outside of your suit, you avoid him like the plague. in the hallways of campus, you take any possible route to not cross his. but when you’re covered in your second skin, you find yourself on top of buildings watching him from far away. with the distance, you allow yourself to learn about what he’s been up to since you two last spoke. 

so you don’t know why you sit in front of him all injured and dressed up in white, black, and pink spandex, because you haven’t spoken to him since that day. shame bubbles within you all while reality slowly slips from your fingertips. and the way your body gets heavier with every second that passes has him mumbling profanities.

his hands hold onto you as he makes you lean your weight on the frame of the window. “wait,” he says as he stands up and walks into his bathroom. before you know it, he comes out with a box.

jaehyun finds his spot back in front of you and he opens what he retrieved. as he looks through the supplies of bandages, alcohol, gauze, and more, he says as his eyes flicker up towards you, “i don’t know how much this will help but it’ll do for now.”

and you should be thankful that someone is willing to bandage you up after the rough night you’ve had, but it feels like a lie to have jaehyun be the one to do it, especially when you haven’t told him the truth.

so when he grabs onto the supplies he needs to treat your wound, your free hand reaches for the underside of your mask. his eyes follow where it rests, and he freezes in his tracks. your fingertips curl on the fabric as you take a deep breath.

“you don’t—”

you shake your head, cutting him off, and you close your eyes before pulling off the mask.

you’re afraid to look at the boy kneeling in front of you, for you can only imagine the annoyance—the disgust—that will paint his features. it’s not like you had a choice to show up at his fire escape this one night, but it was your choice to reveal who spiderman really is behind the mask.

a beat passes.

you’re not sure what to do at this moment. what are you supposed to do after a vigilante reveals who they are?

but when you open your eyes, jaehyun looks back at you with an emotion you can’t pinpoint. he averts his eyes, trailing down to your wound. “let me see it,” he whispers.

you gulp, an attempt to clear your throat and thoughts, before letting your hand move away from the puncture. your hand grips the hem of the top of your suit, peeling it upwards to reveal a bloody wound. from the sight, it looks like you were stabbed, but it’s only a deep cut.

he pulls out a piece of cloth, reaching out and pressing it to your wound. you yelp, eyes squeezing shut at the contact.  “i’m sorry, but we need to stop the bleeding a bit more.” it takes everything in you to open your eyes. you’re met with the sight of jaehyun whose face holds a thousand emotions—you can’t identify any of them.

“can you keep pressure on it?” you only nod before you remove your gloves, afraid to touch the wound with fabric covered in grime. you dump your mask and gloves on the space beside you before letting your hand reach to where the cloth is held against. your hand brushes against his for a split second—you retract your hand immediately at the contact with his skin.

at the sudden motion, the cloth against your stomach drops with nothing left to hold it. jaehyun curses in a panic, hand shooting out in an attempt to save it, but you react faster. snatching it mid-fall, you grasp it tightly, placing the cloth back onto your wound. his eyes dart between where your hand rests and your face, a twinge of worry cast on his features, but he doesn’t give you an opportunity to say anything as he stands up quickly and walks back to his bathroom.

you hear the water run for a moment. the noises of the street fill your ears. the lights from outside cascade the floor, hues of yellow and purple filling the room. and then thunder rumbles; it shakes the floorboards. the sounds of raindrops follow, and you feel your back start to get wet from the storm that has entered new york city.

you try to push yourself off the ledge, a groan ripping out of your throat once more. and you’re finally on your feet. but at any moment, it feels like you may collapse.

“wait, wait! what are you doing?” jaehyun exclaims as he rushes out of the bathroom. he quickly grabs hold of you in an attempt to keep you steady. “don’t stand up or that wound might get worse.”

“i-it’s just the rain. i don’t want to leave the window open.” as you turn your torso, another spike strikes where your wound is. the yelp that leaves your mouth has jaehyun grip onto your arm tighter.

“no, just sit. i’ll take care of it,” he says as he brings you to his chair, his hand never leaves your arm. you let out a hiss until your bottom meets the cushion. as soon as your back rests on the chair, you close your eyes for a moment from the pain.

his hand leaves you. you hear the window shut; the car horns and barks from stray animals are now muffled.

when your eyes flutter open, jaehyun crouches in front of you with a wet towel in his hand. “i need to clean it.” you only nod before removing the cloth on your wound. he grabs it from you and places it on his lap.

as he raises the wet towel to your wound, you flinch at the contact. he quickly retracts it and asks, “does it hurt?”

“no, it’s just cold,” you mumble back. he only nods before attempting to clean the area around your wound. while he keeps his eyes on the puncture, your eyes remain on his face; hues of yellow cast upon him.

his skin glows under the city lights—did anyone know about the stars you once carved on it?

“is this why we broke up?” his eyes snap toward yours as he asks that question.

you cannot help but bite the inside of your cheek. “y-yeah,” you choke out.

he hums before his eyes go back down to your injury. “i’m guessing this is why you were distant then, right?”

you don’t bother to speak, letting the silence speak for itself.

he removes the wet towel; the white cloth is covered in patches of red. as he crumples it into a ball, you spot that his white shirt holds splotches of blood as well.

jaehyun stands up to drop the pieces of fabric on the table behind you. “your dad obviously doesn’t know,” he mutters to himself.

it’s a rhetorical question. of course, your father has no clue of your late-night rendezvous. you’re sure he could never look at you the same if he found out because to him, he would never understand what you do. he would see you only as a low-life criminal in the same way the nypd does. 

jaehyun then dabs a cotton ball soaked in betadine on your abdomen. you bite on your lip as a hiss leaves your mouth. “fuck,” you curse, and he only continues to clean up your wound.

jaehyun takes over you two. as he bandages you up, you allow yourself to close your eyes. you were thankful to find rest in these small moments. but you don’t miss the warmth of his fingertips on your skin; they feel just like last time.

“why did you come here?” his question has your eyes snapping open, and you are met with a frown resting on his face.

you bite the inside of your cheek. “i-i don’t know.” it’s a lie—one you both know. you had every chance to change the route you were taking. instead, you chose to go to his place—even if it may be on the other side of where you live.

he lets out a sigh. it’s clear that he’s disappointed by your words, but all he says is “okay,” as he gets up. “you can stay here for the night.” he stands in front of you in a shirt covered in patches of blood—it’s proof that his heart still holds a spot for you.

despite the venom that was laced in your words the night you cut ties with him, he leaves you a space for you to fill. it’s another choice you can make, but one you’re not sure if you should take.

jaehyun walks to the desk behind you and flips the lamp on. you swivel the chair so that you’re face-to-face with his slouched figure. you would’ve scolded him, but you’re not in the place to do so—not after what you two had.

but a part of you wishes to chide those words—hey, keep slouching and your back will get worse—for old time’s sake. it takes everything in you to hold back from saying the reminder, but it takes nothing to let your hand grip the back of his shirt. his movements halt.

as you sit up, you let your face bury into the arch of his back. the scent of his laundry detergent (it’s still the same smell of lavender) fills your nose, and you let your hands trail around his torso until they find their home on his waist. even after all these months, your hands knew where to rest—your spidey senses knew who to go to.

you feel his hands rest on your arms, his thumb drawing circles on your forearm. you breathe at the same pace as him. whenever his shoulders move up, yours follow. and you allow yourself to cherish just this once the familiar warmth of jaehyun. you let your soul mesh with his once more.

with closed eyes, you whisper, “i still look for you.” his thumb stops moving, and a shaky breath leaves your mouth. “i’m here because all i know is you.”

it’s half of a lie, but still a lie nevertheless. you shake your head against his shirt. “no,” you rescind. “i know i shouldn’t be here, and i had every chance to go back home, but,” you take a deep breath. “would you let me, just this once, be honest with you?”

your question hangs in the air—it’s not for him but for you. all the choices you took led to this moment, from embracing the persona you were handed through a single spider bite all the way to removing the mask in front of him.

jaehyun spins to face you. he stands in front of you with the remnants of you covering him, his shirt coated in hues of red and your blood dried up on his hands. the light behind him causes a shadow to paint his face.

but when he kneels once more in front of you, you get a good look at his features. he still looks like the same boy you first met—the same one you fell in love with—but you wonder if he was still the one you knew?

that is until his hand reaches toward your face. you hold your breath as it finds its spot on your cheek. but as his thumb grazes your cheekbone, a trembling breath leaves you. you gulp everything down—your fears and anxieties—so that you can finally be honest with jaehyun.

“i wanted to tell you who i really am.” a flicker of confusion flashes through his eyes. “and i know i’m not doing it in the best state,” a chuckle leaves your mouth. “but with every day that passes, and every injury i need to endure, i didn’t know when i would be able to tell you what went wrong with us.” a beat passes. “what went wrong with me.”

he shakes his head. “nothing’s wrong with you. what are you talking about?” a frown takes over his face. “i mean, you’re spiderman, for god’s sake.” you weren’t able to hold back the giggle that slipped from your lips.

but it wouldn’t be fair to just accept his words as is, not after the damage you’ve caused.

you let a hand rest on his, the one that rests on your cheek, and you curl your fingers so that you hold it. “i’m sorry that this is me.” the whisper is loud enough to fill the silence of his room. “i’m sorry that i crashed here all injured and left you to deal with the mess,” your eyes flicker to his bed. “especially on a night when you were resting.”

as soon as your eyes go back to jaehyun, you notice that he’s biting the inside of his cheek. “why are you telling me this?” it’s an honest question, one he couldn’t figure out the answer to. “we haven’t seen each other since you broke up with me.”

and he has every right to be confused with your sudden appearance. after all the months spent avoiding him in the halls while still seeking him on top of buildings, jaehyun was left with no clue as to why you come to him first in such a dire situation. why is it that you chose to reveal such an intimate part of yourself months after you two have drifted?

“do i have to say it?” you ask.

and he looks back into your eyes before saying, “it’s the least you can do.”

so you grab onto his hand, moving it so that it rests in yours. the sight of his fingers and palms covered in splotches of you fills your heart with warmth. it’s proof of the time he spent to patch you up. no matter who you may be—spiderman or not—you will forever be at his mercy.

“we can’t be together. it will only be another cycle of pain.” for both of you. as your eyes land back on his face, you spot sorrow coating his features.

“but i still do.” it’s an unfinished thought on his end. despite the frown you show, all he does is flash you a bitter smile. “i always have and always will.”

and it clicks.

“n-no, jaehyun,” you shake your head. “you can’t.”

he brings your hand close to his lips, letting it linger for a moment. “but you do,” he whispers into your fingertips. “right?”

even after revealing who spiderman truly is behind the mask, you expect jaehyun to rethink everything he knows. the months spent away from you should be enough reason to reconsider how much he knows of you now. but even if you two were to spend years apart, he would still read you as well as he does now. 

“i can’t,” you choke out. “i can only offer so much, and you deserve so much more.”

he smiles at you—the same one you used to see every day, no matter what time of the day it may be—as his free hand reaches for your hair, tucking it behind your ear.

“i couldn’t care any less.”

you shake your head. it’s clear he doesn’t understand the gravity of it all; to be with you means to remain in constant danger. “no, jaehyun. you don’t understand. i broke up with you because i’m batshit scared of what will happen to you.”

because it seems to always occur—anyone you come close to becomes another target for your enemies. it’s already hard enough to handle the responsibility of being a masked hero, but you don’t think you could handle a possibility where jaehyun’s death would be on your hands.

but all he does is shake his head and says, “i don’t care. i still love you.”

you haven’t heard him say that to you in months. such a simple phrase causes warmth to fill your limbs and heat to rise to your cheeks. he still has the same effect on you after so long.

there are consequences that this conversation bears. you should have stood up and left as soon as he patched you up. it should’ve been obvious that the longer you stayed, the more you would pour out sentiments that you tried to keep under wraps—under the mask—and it seemed that jaehyun knew how to undo them even better than he did then.

and hearing jaehyun say those words has you falling into a perpetual cycle of torment, one that makes every day intolerable for you can only watch him from afar. but aren’t you already living it the more you deny what’s in front of you two?

so you only nod, and bring his hand close so you can feel his fingertips on your lips. with closed eyes, you whisper, “okay.”

it’s a testament to everything—one to his offer to let you sleep in this very room you once treated as yours, one to his confession that tilted your world’s axis, one to the very situation you’re in—and you’re sure he knows it, too.

he smiles as soon as your eyes flutter open. “let’s go to sleep.”

you know that sleep meant to be wrapped in his arms all while he would leave kisses on your temple. you don’t remember the last time you got enough rest, but you remember that the last time you slept in jaehyun’s arms was the last one you were able to fall into slumber at ease.

so you nod, allowing him to help you out of the chair. and he helps you through it all—shedding the suit off of you, cleaning you of all the grime from tonight’s adventure, and getting dressed in fresh clothes—until you two find your place on his bed.

nothing is said for the rest of the night. for once, you drift into slumber without any secrets stashed away.

networks: @kflixnet @k-labels @blankjournal @onedoornet

boynextdoor permanent tag list: @bndokidoki @0310s @whyilovewhales-pdf

This is so good! I’m excited for future chapters!

Terms & Conditions | Chapter 1

Pairing: Min Yoongi x female reader

Summary: Managing Min Yoongi as one of your encoders during his alternative military service should’ve been simple. He is quiet, punctual—and can apparently type as fast as he can rap! Not to mention the fact that he is easy on the eyes and keeps wanting to help you. You’ve signed an iron-clad NDA, detailing the full terms and conditions of his temporary employment, so you’re supposed to keep things professional, but what happens if neither of you wants to?

Genre: Fluff, eventual smut, co-workers to lovers, office romance, idol!au

Warnings: Purely speculative regarding Yoongi’s alternative military service and how this is really done in SK, I might include scootergate in a future chapter but please know it will be written sensibly imo and with so much love for our Yoongi (I just wanna protecc him at all costs even thru this silly story!), some cursing, boss/employee relationship sorta but there's no power play involved, reader and Yoongi are within the same age range, tbh nothing too bad in this chapter

Word count: 6.3k hehe (approx. 25 mins to read)

Posting date: October 9, 2024

Notes: So it’s my birthday, y'all. 🎂 Hope you enjoy this little treat! 🎈And let me know if anyone wants to be tagged for future chapters. Just leave a comment. Formatting this better soon, really just wanted to get this out!

Your first meeting with Min Yoongi goes exactly as you expected: awkward as hell.

The day kicked off with some solid foreshadowing. 

On the subway, you somehow managed to sit directly on someone’s hand, giving yourself a completely unsolicited grope for breakfast. Awkward. 

Then you hit your usual café, chatting with your mom on the phone while waiting for your drink. Just as the barista handed over your order, you wrapped up the call with a bright and cheery “love you!”—only to realize too late that the barista thought it was meant for him. Awkward.

Things only got weirder from there. As you checked your emails on your phone, you walked straight into a pole, and you made eye contact with a cat who just looked at you, tail swaying, like it was somehow pleased with your suffering.

So naturally, you hoped that your first day with Min Yoongi wouldn’t follow the same cursed trend. But, of course, you weren’t that lucky.

You can feel the office buzzing with excitement as you step in, but you’ve all been told to keep it low-key. Nobody is allowed to make a big deal about him, but in some ways, that just makes it an even bigger deal. You’ve refrained from searching his name on Naver. It’s enough that you know him as 1/7 of South Korea’s biggest boyband. You don’t need to stalk him because that’s just gonna make this weird.

Speaking of weird, the female security guard gives you a wink as you clock in, and you return with a simple nod back, because honestly you’re tired of being treated like you wanted this. Like you asked for this “opportunity”. Some of the girls have called you the "blessed one" to have been chosen to work alongside him in your small, shoebox office. Truthfully, you don’t really care as long as he gets the job done.

But you're feeling scared for many reasons you can’t quite express, the pressure mostly coming from the fact that every fucking person in this office is so motherfuckin’ wet for this dude. Is he even that hot? Nobody is that hot for real. Unless it’s Cha Eun Woo (you just picked up the new Vogue issue and ooof)–now that is a different story.

Your throat is dry as hell, and your stomach is in knots. There’s no time to freak out though as you just received a ping that he’s on his way. 

You clear your throat, adjust your stance, and try to appear composed and professional, despite the fact that your insides are churning. You spot your tiny plastic garbage can on the corner of the room, in case you need to hurl, but the garbage lady forgot to line it again for fuck’s sake.

You pull your knit sweater down to cover the tiny belt that holds your linen pants, the only thing holding something together in this room, ‘cos you are actually spiraling–kind of?

Fuck he’s here.

The doors to your office open, making the little wind chime you hung there tinkle, and you spot the top of his head from behind the pudgy middle-aged guy that walks in front of him—your boss. Two men flank him, one of them you know as someone from his company, because he was the one doling out NDAs the other day like how they do beef jerky samples in the supermarket. The other, more buff guy, his bodyguard, most likely. Until you know their real names, you’ll call them Beef Jerky and Beefy.

Okay, focus.

Min Yoongi finally steps into your line of vision. 

Dressed in his military uniform, he was quiet, unassuming, expression unreadable. His eyes were pretty sharp, a bit intimidating, like he was thinking about something more important than whatever this is. His hair was a bit messy in the front, but somehow it worked for him. He wasn’t huge or anything, just lean and kinda laid-back, with this easy posture that made it seem like he didn’t really care who was looking. Honestly, nothing too special. 

But then, there was his aura, something you couldn’t quite ignore. It wasn’t flashy or loud, but there was this energy about him, like the room shifted just a little when he walked in. He didn’t have to say a damn thing, yet somehow, you found yourself aware of him. It wasn’t just his looks. It was the way he carried himself, calm and confident, like he didn’t need to prove anything. Must be nice to be rich and powerful…

“Miss?” Beef Jerky leans to his side to get into your sightline.

Shit, what did he say? Anyway, you shake your head, and proceed to just introduce yourself.

“Hello, I’m the manager,” you bow, perhaps too stiffly. “I’ll be overseeing your work during your service here.”

He bows politely, too, eyes briefly meeting yours before looking away. “I’m Min Yoongi, pleasure to meet you,” he says in a tone that feels blunt, almost rehearsed.

Your boss Hyun-woo, who you recently found out is his distant uncle, stands beside him, clapping his shoulder. “You are in good hands here, Yoongi. She’s my best, most trusted employee in this entire office.”

You blush at the compliment, feeling a wave of self-consciousness as you struggle to make the interaction less awkward. You close your fists willing yourself to get a fuckin’ grip.

“I will leave you both to get acquainted.”

Your boss along with the two individuals leave the room. The door closes with a soft click.

Annoyingly, something is stuck in your throat and you clear it with a quick sip from this comically huge-sized tumbler your roommate got for you when you had a pesky bout of UTI last year.

“I’ve, uh, prepared your tasks for today.” You gesture to his desk, quickly pulling up the list of assignments on your tablet. You show him his username and password scribbled on a post-it by the monitor. He picks it up and inspects it. You spend time explaining the basics of the work here. Word processing. Nothing to it really. It’s about efficiency, accuracy, and confidentiality, because of the many private government records that you handle day to day.

“Do you have any questions?”

Crickets.

The office feels larger now, the silence between you echoing awkwardly. “Ooo-kay. If you don’t have any questions, that’s fine. But don’t hesitate to ask if there’s anything I can help you with,” you add, hoping to sound approachable but instead sounding robotic, like an email sign off. You wince inwardly.

He just nods again, offering nothing more. He sits and picks up the paper on the top of the file. You guess that’s your cue to leave. And by leave, you mean round his table so you can sit on yours, the one across from him.

You walk back with this weird stutter in your chest. For a moment, you wonder if he finds you too formal. It’s not like you’re trying to be intimidating, but professionalism has been your go-to ever since the promotion. And it’s not like you need to wow him with your personality, so you can become fast friends. If the NDA you signed was to be taken to heart, it would be better to not establish any form of relationship with him outside of team lead and team member, what with the exorbitant number of potential violations and potential fines for breaking it.

When his keyboard starts clickety-clacking, dread sinks in your stomach that it’s going to be like this every day—strictly business, no small talk, no casual exchanges. You’re not the most sociable person, but once in a while, you do appreciate a bit of interaction. You sigh internally, returning to your own tasks, trying not to overthink the situation anymore. For now, at least.

Throughout the morning, you cannot help but steal glances at him. Damn, what skin care does he use? He literally looks radiant, like he’s glowing from within. Fuck, you have to look away because this is precisely why they trusted you to take him under your wing. You are a consummate professional, not a creep like the girls from accounting, especially trampy Danbi. You chalk it to unfamiliarity and curiosity, which you know you will quickly overcome. But for now you cut yourself some slack. Obviously, there was a legit celebrity in the room, and he seems to radiate some undeniable aura. It also feels strange to have someone else in this tiny office that you’ve occupied alone for so long.

Honestly, you’re still baffled as to why he was assigned to you, specifically. Well, that’s not entirely true. You know it’s because Hyun-woo has blind trust in you, having seen you as one of his go-to employees. Truth be told, you think he treats you like a niece. Is that weird? Maybe. He lets you assist some of the other artists who’ve come through for personal or one-time projects and you have always delivered for him, never engaging in any office gossip.

But still, you can’t shake the feeling of frustration. Why did this have to happen to you? You just got your promotion and were so excited to mentor someone, to be that “cool boss” you always envisioned. But now you’re stuck with this temp—who’s really not a temp but a world-renowned idol. It’s all so awkward.

Once in a while you catch him yawning, so in a desperate bid to cut through the tension, you ask, “Um, do you like coffee?”

He shifts to sit straighter. “Nah, I’m good. Thank you.” he responds, quickly looking your way and training his eyes back to the screen, hands typing away.

You nod, feeling slightly deflated. “Right. Got it.” 

The day drags on, and you can’t shake off the feeling of being an over-eager manager trying too hard. 

Within the first week, you discover very quickly that Yoongi is all about business. He is just here to finish his service as discreetly as possible. He clocks in on time, disappears for an hour for breaks, and clocks out on time as well. You don’t know where he disappears during those breaks, but you suspect in Hyun-woo’s office to get more privacy. He barely speaks to you. He greets you with a small bow in the morning and responds with a grunt or a hum. It’s all very… whatever. It is what it is, so you stop trying to be anything but his boring manager. You hand him his tasks every morning, check his output by EOD, like clockwork.

Unfortunately, it was one of those manic Mondays. The pile of documents grows faster than you can manage. Calls keep coming in, requests needing immediate attention, and your desk looks like the utter chaos that is the inside of your brain. You glance at Yoongi across from you—he’s focused, calm, completely unfazed by the sudden rush.

“Do you need help with that?” His voice startles you, low and soft. You honestly even forgot how it sounded, having little to no interaction everyday.

Before you can respond, he’s already pulling the spare chair from the corner and is at your side, sorting through the forms. His hands move with unexpected speed, and soon, the paperwork starts shrinking. You offer a weak smile, trying to appear professional. “Thanks. I wasn’t expecting today to be so hectic.”

He only nods in response, his focus entirely on the task at hand. You glance at him, noticing for the first time how sharp his features are up close—dark eyes, cute pointy nose, and freckles dusting some parts of his cheeks. His tongue, pink and moist, peeks out from the side of his lips as he concentrates. Ok, you need to look away RIGHT NOW.

You’re aware of the attraction most women probably feel for someone like him. Exhibit A—Danbi, who cornered you that morning in the toilet “for the scoop” and you’re sick of her. But if you’ll be honest, it’s hard not to notice that Yoongi indeed has a… pleasant face. But you are a professional. Yes, you are. This whole mysterious, brooding vibe is not going to get to you attracted to him in any way, shape, or form. You’re his manager. You signed those NDAs. Never mind that his lips are just the perfect shape, pouty, plush… and smirking.

Shit. He’s smirking because you’re caught.

You look away hastily and start opening some random file in your computer and pretend to be immersed reading it. In truth, you need some air, but it would be too damn obvious if you stepped away.

A few minutes pass in silence. You’ve quelled the initial onslaught of hormones and are back to work mode. You’re happy that he is so efficient and you smile as you get through the initial bulk of paperwork. You’re starting to relax, getting into the familiar groove of getting a file and processing it, until your fingers accidentally brush against his while reaching for the same folder. The touch is brief, but it sends a jolt through you, your heart stuttering in response. You glance up, half-expecting another awkward moment (because you can’t stop feeling like such a fool in front of him), but Yoongi remains composed, as he pulls his hand away and waits for you to take the document.

You do, but your pulse quickens. Just an accident, you tell yourself. He probably didn’t even notice. And if he did, he probably doesn’t care.

But now, as you continue working side by side, there’s an unspoken understanding. You realize, despite his quiet demeanor, he’s someone you can rely on, someone who won’t leave you stranded when things get tough. And that’s actually really nice. It’s what you wanted when Hyun-woo said you were going to have a team. Granted it’s just the two of you for now, but still, it’s nice to have a partner.

Later in the week, you find yourself in the break room, needing a coffee fix. There was a place down the street with cheap and good coffee, but unfortunately you didn’t have the time to pop in with so much work on your desk. So free and awful coffee it is today. 

You enter just in time to see Yoongi struggling with the coffee machine. You have never seen him anywhere else in the building apart from your office, so this was quite a surprise. 

“Need a hand?” you ask tentatively, stepping closer.

“I think I broke it,” he replies, hearing exasperation in his voice for the very first time. 

“Hang on, let me,” you unplug and plug the machine, fiddle with some of the buttons, waiting for it to sputter to life. 

You’re leaning against the counter, waiting for the coffee machine to wake up. You know it takes forever, but it’s too familiar at this point. Yoongi stands next to you, his usual quiet self, hands in his pockets. 

“I’ve timed it,” you say dryly, glancing at him. “Two minutes and forty seconds.”

He watches the machine as if expecting it to hurry up. “Been here for more than that.”

You smirk. “Maybe it’s on a break.”

He quirks an eyebrow, barely suppressing a smile. “I’ll try that excuse next time.”

You hand Yoongi his coffee, mumbles a thanks, and waits for you to finish yours before both of you settle into the break room’s small table. It’s past lunch, and you know neither of you have eaten, so you reach for the cold ham and cheese sandwiches stashed in the fridge. “Hope you don’t mind,” you say, sliding one across to him.

He looks at it for a moment before picking it up. “I’ve had worse.”

“High praise.”

He takes a bite, chewing thoughtfully. “Could be worse. Could be that coffee.”

You raise your cup in mock agreement. “Fair point. Don’t even know why I drink this shit. I mean this thing.” You slap a hand over your mouth. Did you just curse in front of your subordinate? Government offices are a stickler for these things, being on the traditional side.

He chuckles at your shocked expression, and teases, “Isn’t that a code of conduct violation?”

You gnaw at your lip, suppressing the smile that wants to stretch out, but you fail. “It is. But you’re no snitch.”

He motions to zip his lips and throws an imaginary key over his shoulder. Dork.

The conversation lingers in that easy rhythm. You talk about the workload, the other departments, nothing too personal. You glance over at him, noticing how more at ease he seems, as if he’s getting used to being here—around you.

“How long have you worked here?” he leans back, stretching his arm out on the back of the chair beside him.

“Five years,” you respond, tapping the side of your lip with a napkin.

“Do you ever get tired of it?” he asks suddenly.

You blink, slightly taken aback by how blunt he is. You clarify, on guard, “Tired of what exactly?”

He gestures around. “The office. The routine.” He keeps his eyes trained on you, which is a rarity as he always seems to be looking at you but never directly like that. That’s when you knew his question was sincere. That he wasn’t trying to offend you, just trying to get to know you.

You shrug. “Sometimes. But it’s not that bad. Besides,” you smile wryly, “now I have someone to talk shit about this coffee and sandwich with.”

He chuckles, light and throaty, a sound that you realize is tickling something in your brain. “Guess we’re in this shit together now.”

You nod, feeling something warm settle in your chest. The wall between you is thinner now, not entirely gone but close enough to see past.

“Same time tomorrow?” you ask, half-joking, half-hopeful.

He raises an eyebrow, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. “I have two years here. Hope the coffee machine doesn’t beat me to my discharge date.”

Two years. The thought makes you smile. You really don't mind spending that amount of time with him. In fact, it kinda made you a little happy.

As you step into your cozy apartment, the familiar scent of home hits you. Your roommate’s been cooking again, so it also smells like galbi jjim. Yummm.

Your place isn’t much—a small two-bedroom in Yongsan you’ve shared with Chae since Uni—but it’s got character. You both moved in when it was bare and bland, but with a little effort and a lot of creativity, you’ve turned it into something that actually feels like home. The furniture is mostly Scandi-style—clean lines, muted tones, and a lot of beige—but you’ve sprinkled in your own touches everywhere.

There’s that round white table you scored second hand, now always topped with whatever flowers Chae picks up from the market, and the rattan pendant light that casts this soft, cozy glow at night. The tiny kitchen still feels big enough when it’s just the two of you, with mismatched mugs stacked up and a bright orange pan hanging on the wall for no real reason other than it looks cool.

In the living room, a hybrid shelf is stuffed with books, vinyls, and random trinkets from all the places you’ve been. A Chinese lucky cat sculpture from that street market trip. A polaroid of you two drunk at noraebang, one of many others tucked under the glass coffee table. Trendy prints hang on the walls—well, some lean against the walls, because you’ve never gotten around to actually hanging them. It’s perfectly imperfect. It’s not much, but it’s home.

You hang your bag on the rack by the door and head to the kitchen, where Chae is stirring a pot, hips swaying to the music blaring from her phone. Of course, as she holds a silver spoon, she belts out the lyrics from the BTS song with the same title. And you only know this because she has made you watch some edits to this song that left an impression on you.

The thought of revealing this thing you’ve been holding out on her has your stomach in knots. But again, there’s an NDA involved, and you don’t want to violate anything. But just the same, you’re desperate to talk to someone about this strange new development in your life. You just hope you don’t regret risking your job by telling her.

“Hey, Chae!” you call out, and she turns, beaming at you. “How was work?”

“Busy as usual,” you reply, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge. “But I have something to tell you.”

Her eyes sparkle with curiosity. “Ooh, do tell!”

You hesitate, but excitement spills out. “I have a new workmate. And you know him.”

“Please don’t tell me it’s one of my exes.”

“No, no.” You take a quick swig of water and twist its cover back in place.

“From Uni?”

You shake your head, water still swirling inside your mouth.

“Is it one of my weird cousins?”

You gulp. “What? No! Also we haven’t talked about why you gave one of them my number. He’s blowing up my Kakao.”

She cackles unapologetically, “Sorry, I need to get them off my back. So, are you going to tell me who this mysterious person is?”

You breathe out a sigh. “Min Yoongi from BTS.”

It’s like a bomb explodes in your roommate’s brain. She drops the spoon, and you wince at the clatter. “What?! No!”

“Yeah…”

“Don’t you even joke right now.”

“I’m not!”

“Are you serious???”

You nod, half-amused by her reaction. “Yeah, he’s assigned to my department for his service.”

“Min Yoongi?” she repeats, eyes wide, almost breathless. “You… I… Do you know how famous he is? He’s like a fuckin’ national treasure! He has a diplomatic passport and everything, keys to the White House… ”

You chuckle at her enthusiasm, but you can’t help but feel a flutter of excitement. “I mean, I guess? But I signed an NDA. I’m not supposed to talk about it.”

She pulls you to her room, and you follow, rolling your eyes. Her space is a shrine to Bangtan, shelves lined with albums, posters, and even plushies. You’ve never given her shit for it, because you also had an EXO phase, but you got rid of most of your stuff through ebay when you needed some extra money.

“Wait, you have to understand him!” she exclaims, rifling through her collection. “You need to learn about his music, his artistry. He’s incredible!”

“Honestly, he has an above average WPM, that’s all I need to know.”

“WPM?” she asks.

“Words per minute. He’s an encoder.”

She gives you a WTF look, then shoves her photocard album in your arms. 

“Open that,” she tells you before she flops on her bed with a wistful look. “What's he like? You have to tell me. I need to live vicariously through you.”

You can’t help but laugh at her excitement, flopping down on the bed next to her. “Well, he’s a quick study, very efficient, and also very reserved.”

“…and very hot?” she asks, winking.

“Chaeee!” you groan, burying your face on one of her plushies, the brown one. “I mean, he’s not… bad-looking.”

“Not bad-looking? Girl?! He is sexy as fuck!” she grabs the plush off of your face and you try to school your face to seriousness, but fail.

“I dunno. It’s just work.”

“Just work?!” she echoes again, eyes sparkling. “You’re working with a literal genius! Do you know how many girls would kill for this opportunity?”

Don’t you know it? Danbi and her crew are still up on your face everyday trying to get any morsel of information you’d be willing to throw their way. You sigh, but smile at her enthusiasm. “Alright, I’ll tell you more. But just remember: NDA.”

When your roommate seems satiated, she leaves you a trail of crumbs that unknowingly leads you to a rabbit hole. Two words, she said mysteriously, before you disappear into your room. “Agust D.”

That night, curiosity gets the better of you. You grab your laptop and fall down said rabbit hole, watching every Agust D music video, concert clip, and interview you can find. With each passing moment, you become more entranced, not just by the music, but by the man behind it. The raw passion in his lyrics, the confidence in his delivery—it really is quite… in Chae’s words: sexy af.

As the weeks progress, you have graduated from robotic nods to actual smiles. The greetings feel more familiar now, almost like you're becoming friends. 

You walk into the office, a small smile creeping onto your face as you see Yoongi already at his desk. He looks up and meets your gaze, returning the smile with a scratchy hello. The atmosphere feels lighter today, a far cry from your first awkward encounter.

“Ready for another exciting day of paperwork?” you tease, taking your seat.

“Dope,” he replies dryly, but there’s a playful glint in his eye.

Moments later, Yoongi’s head pops from the side of his monitor so that he’s in your view. “Uh, I have a bit of a problem with this file,” he says, brows furrowed with a hint of frustration in his tone.

You immediately jump into action, eager to help. “Let me take a look.”

As you move closer to his desk, you can’t help but notice the way his fingers move over the keyboard, veiny and strong. Images of him playing “Seesaw” on the guitar flood your mind. How can you unsee that?

You shake your head, trying to refocus. “Okay, let’s see…” But your brain keeps drifting, and you find yourself more distracted than ever. His mouth, and his deep voice, as he mumbles his troubles with the document, keeps pulling your attention. You try to push the thoughts away, frustration mounting.

“Is this the line you were talking about?” you ask, forcing yourself to concentrate on the screen.

“Yeah, that’s the one. I just can’t seem to make sense of it,” he replies, glancing at you.

“Let me just…” You lean closer, your heart racing as his shoulder brushes against yours. You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks.

How can you focus on work when all you can think about is this thing he does with his tongue. It feels impossible.

Yoongi watches you, an amused smile playing on his lips. “You look like you’re trying to solve a complex equation.”

“Honestly, I’m starting to think my brain is broken.”

Yoongi glances at you with a smirk. “If your brain is broken, then mine’s completely fried. I tried to make toast this morning and almost burnt my apartment down.”

You laugh. “Maybe you should stick to Uber eats.”

“Agreed. It’s safer for everyone involved,” he quips, his eyes sparkling with amusement, before it turns into something slightly more serious. “Not that there’s anyone else, umm, involved. I, uh, live alone, so…”

His comment makes you smile, and you can’t help but feel a rush of warmth at the way he stuttered the last bit out. You don’t know what to make of it, so you just left it at that. 

About to clock out, Yoongi stands from his desk, bag over his shoulder.

“You know, despite my toast incident, I’m actually a pretty great cook. That toast was a fluke,” he declares, his tone half-serious, like it has been bothering him for quite some time.

The way he looks worried that you may think he is terrible in the kitchen, is not lost on you. You raise an eyebrow, “Is that so?”

He shifts the bag on his shoulder, narrowing his eyes at you. “You don’t believe me.”

“Give me a taste then,” you say, biting your lip. You made it sound really suggestive, but you can’t take it back now. Not when he seems to get it, and he seems kind of into it.

He leans with a playful glint in his eyes, “Alright. I’ll bring kimchi jeon, but you also have to give me a taste.” he pauses, pushing his tongue on the inside of his cheek, before continuing. “Of your…”

“Pasta.” You say, cheeks warm, but voice steady. “Friday?”

He smirks, then he’s out the door.

You bury your face on your palms, smiling like a fool as your heart beats loudly in your chest. What the actual hell is happening?

It’s Friday afternoon, and the office is quieter than usual—most of the staff are already winding down, eager for the weekend. You glance at the clock, knowing it’s almost time for the little food showdown you’ve been looking forward to all week.

You and Yoongi walk together to the break room, both armed with your dishes. His kimchi jeon and your pasta. 

You warm your containers in the microwave before you settle down on a corner spot.

“I hope you’re ready to lose,” you tease, sliding the container of Carbonara across the table. Yoongi raises an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair with that infuriatingly calm smirk.

“You seem confident,” he replies, popping open the lid of his dish. The scent of kimchi fills the room, and you have to admit—it smells incredible.

“Smells good,” you say, trying not to let your surprise show.

“Of course it does. I told you I could cook.” He clips a piece of the jeon with his chopsticks and holds it out to you. “Try it.”

You lean forward, the chopsticks brushing against your lips as you take a bite. The flavors hit you immediately—spicy, savory, just the way you like it. You chew slowly, pretending to think it over even though you’re already sold.

“Not bad,” you admit, leaning back with a grin. “But it’s gonna take more than that to beat my pasta.”

Yoongi scoffs, but there’s amusement in his eyes as he picks up a fork and twirls it into your pasta. He takes a bite, and you watch him carefully, waiting for his reaction.

He chews, then pauses, glancing up at you through his lashes. “Alright… I have to admit,” he says, his tone casual but the look in his eyes a little too serious, “this is really good.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “That’s it? Just ‘really good?’”

He leans forward on his elbows, his gaze steady on yours. “Fine. It’s amazing,” he says, his voice softening just a bit, though there’s a teasing smile on his lips. “But don’t let it go to your head.”

“Oh, it’s already there,” you quip, biting back a smile. 

Yoongi laughs, a sound that’s more relaxed than usual, and you catch the way his eyes linger on you just a little longer than necessary. “You know what? I’ll give you this one,” he concedes, sitting back with a defeated sigh, though the smile never leaves his face. “You win.”

You hoot, then immediately cover your mouth with your hands, remembering you are in your place of business.

He grins as he takes another bite of your Carbonara, forking pieces of bacon straight to his mouth. There’s something different in the way he’s looking at you now—something softer, like he’s seeing you in a way he hasn’t before. You are thrown for a loop. Maybe it’s the way he keeps sneaking glances at you between bites, or the quiet hum of satisfaction when he takes another forkful of your dish. Whatever it is, you want it and you like it.

You push your chair back, stretching your arms above your head as the day finally comes to a close. It’s been a long one, but productive—and surprisingly enjoyable. After sharing lunch with Yoongi earlier, things felt lighter, less awkward. Still, when you glance at the window, seeing the sheets of rain coming down hard, your shoulders sag slightly. It’s pouring, and you didn’t bring an umbrella.

As you slip on your parka after snapping the detachable hoodie on, Yoongi catches your eye, “You’re not planning to walk in this, are you?”

“I can take the subway,” you say quickly.

Yoongi chuckles, shaking his head as he shows you his keys. “Just let me give you a ride, it’s not a problem.”

You hesitate, but eventually, you sigh. “Okay, sure. Thanks.”

The two of you dash out into the rain, laughing softly as you both get soaked within seconds. By the time you’re in his car, your hair sticks to your forehead, and the chill of your wet clothes clings to your skin.

But you’re glad that you’re finally inside. He blasts the heater and the warmth is immediate, fogging the windows as the downpour intensifies. He fiddles with the stereo as you settle in, and Epik High’s "Born Hater" comes through his car speakers.

“Born hater!” You announce, and you catch yourself, embarrassed at the way you had to say the title of the song so emphatically.

“Cute,” Yoongi mumbles as he looks at you like he is actually endeared and you think you would catch fire despite being soaked.

“Ok hater, what’s one thing you hate?” He asks as he puts the gear on reverse.

The question is sudden, casual, and it throws you off for a moment. “What?” You laugh, furrowing your brow. “Like, what do you mean?”

He shrugs, his grip loose on the steering wheel. “Just one thing you hate. Something small. What’s something that drives you crazy?”

His arm moves behind your seat, while one hand takes the wheel and maneuvers the car seamlessly back out of the parking spot—and you don’t quite understand why you think that lone action is so sexy. It’s a miracle you’re still able to think and respond to his simple question. “Okay… I hate it when people chew with their mouth open.”

Yoongi chuckles, the sound low and warm. “Yeah, I’m guilty of that.”

“What about you?” you ask, feeling more at ease. “What’s something you hate?”

Without missing a beat, he grins. “Mushrooms. I can’t stand them.”

“Mushrooms?” You snicker. “What, like all of them?”

“All of them,” he says firmly. “They taste like dirt.”

“Wrong.” You shake your head, laughing. “They do not. You’re just picky.”

He turns to you, raising an eyebrow playfully. “Nope, I’m right. Name another thing.”

“Pickles,” you say.

“Get out of the car,” he deadpans and you both laugh.

“Not even on pizza? I actually can’t eat pizza without it.”

“Yeah, it’s still a no for me,” you say, rubbing your palms on your pants.

“Are you still cold?” He asks.

“A little,” you say, your damp clothes still causing a bit of a chill.

At the next stop light he reaches for something in the back seat and places a folded scarf of some sort on your lap. Grateful, you mutter a thanks as BIGBANG’s “Haru Haru” comes next.

You sigh, smelling his faint cologne on the garment, and melt in your seat as you pull the fabric over your shoulders, “I love this song…”

“Me too,” he says. “I listened to this song a lot when I was in high school.”

“Yeah, me too,” you share a smile before his eyes go back on the road as the green light comes. “What were you like in school?” you ask.

He raises an eyebrow, considering your question for a second. And his response was blunt, as he tends to be.  “Was a loser. Kept to myself. Worked on music when I could. School wasn’t really my thing.”

“Figures,” you tease.

He doesn’t glance at you, but there was an amused grin playing on his lips. “What about you? You look like a popular kid.”

“Oh, I was definitely a loser, too. Overachieving student who tried way too hard to please everyone,” you say with a self-deprecating laugh, looking at the pouring rain outside. “I always thought if I did everything right, I’d end up happy, but…”

“… but now?” Yoongi asks, tone softer than you’ve ever heard him before.

You hesitate, unsure why this feels like a deeper question than it should. But you wanted to give him some honesty. A tiny piece of you to hold on to if he wants. “Now… I don’t know. I’m still figuring it out, I guess.”

“You will,” he promises, glancing at you in the corner of his eyes and you meet his gaze with a shy smile.

“Thanks.”

Silence falls between you. The music fills the space as the rain lets up, and the streets blur outside the window. It feels like a moment—one you don’t want to think too hard about, because thinking too hard about anything with him feels dangerous.

He pulls up outside your apartment, the car coming to a smooth stop. You don’t move right away, letting the last bit of the song play out as you sit in the warmth of the car.

“Thanks for the ride,” you say, finally unbuckling your seatbelt, but your voice feels quieter than usual.

“No problem.” His eyes meet yours for just a second, and it lingers—like there’s something else he wants to say, but doesn’t.

You step out into the cool night air, still feeling his gaze on you as you make your way to the door. When you glance back, Yoongi is still parked there, watching you, and just to lighten the mood you call out, "Bye, loser!" He shakes his head with a tiny grin, "Later, loser!" before he finally pulls away.

Your heart’s racing the whole way up the stairs, each step making it louder, faster, like it’s echoing off the walls. You enter your apartment and press a hand to your chest, trying to calm yourself down, but it’s useless—he’s been stuck in your head since you stepped out of the car. Hell, he's been there for days. You wonder if he could feel the headrush too, all the way from Hannam, where he went completely out of his way just to drop you off. 

What you don’t know is Yoongi, back in his apartment, though a little later, is doing the same—sitting there, trying to calm his pulse, still thinking about the long drive, and why he didn’t mind the distance. And as he lay awake in his large bed, smiling like a lunatic, replaying the moments of the day, he knew there really was only one reason:

He likes you.

A/N: What do you think??? I'm so excited for this series!!! Again, just leave a comment if you want to be tagged on the next chapters! Thank you so much for reading! ~k