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Genre: College AU, Baekhyun as an adorable art student and campus heartthrob, shy OC, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, angst, eventual smut
WC: 8.3k
Warnings: Harassment, alcohol consumption
Masterlist
The streets of Seoul set your mind ablaze in all their bright, manicured chaos.
It had been three years since your first time in the city, but again it sucked you right in without as much as a glimpse of hesitation. Not unlike you with a bowl of your favorite ramyun.
The American midwest had its charms, if you looked hard enough, but your eyes were getting tired. The city had always been more your speed, and Seoul was, in your mind, the absolute best there was. When the opportunity finally came to spend your last year of college at Korea University you eagerly took it.
No matter the area, the time of day, or one's specific interests, there was always a good chance that something uniquely enticing was just around the corner, waiting to be discovered. Getting bored wasn’t an option, even for those who might crave it every now and then.
Patience, like boredom, was not on the menu in Seoul either. Ppalli-ppalli is what they call it, ‘quickly-quickly, the culture that drives the city to cater perfectly to the needs of those as antsy, or really just anxious, as yourself. It’s hard to overthink for hours when there is so much constantly changing and happening around you, demanding your attention. You found that profoundly comforting.
Independence had always been a strength of yours, so the first several weeks flew by, but by the third week, and then the fourth, even you got a little lonely.
After a few years studying the language, your Korean was decent. Passable. But fluent, you were not. Ordering in restaurants, reading directions and street signs, that was no problem, but having to make any kind of meaningful conversation was humbling, to say the least.
It was a relief to finally get a roommate, Heejin, another senior at the university. She was thrilled to practice her English with you, and you your Korean with her.
Before you knew it the semester was starting, and right on your first day of classes, you noticed him. Surrounded by a large group of friends all laughing together, he was at the center in all his beauty.
It would be hard not to notice him, really, given his clothing. They were unusually colorful, in contrast to the muted neutrals most Koreans favor, and were often dotted with what looked like paint stains, mainly shades of yellow and gold. In the crowded lecture hall, he was a sliver of sunlight against the sea of black, brown, and gray.
He wore round glasses, which framed kind, puppy-like eyes the color of your favorite chocolate. The dark curls of his hair were perfectly fluffy, and his lips perfectly pink. Moles and freckles decorated his nose and cheeks generously.
You struggled not to stare. He was just so pretty. Especially when you saw him smile. Just the sight of him laughing at a joke you hadn’t even heard, brought a smile to your face.
He was shining, glowing, radiating so much warmth you’d blissfully forgotten the still looming chill of early spring.
“That’s Baekhyun, he’s a studio arts major, pretty much every girl I know has a crush on him. I get it, though, he is super cute, he seems really nice, too, though I don’t really know him myself.” Heejin told you, when you asked about him that same evening.
Against your better judgment, or any rational thought, really, you let yourself be drawn to him, taking your seat the next day in the row directly in front of his. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you couldn’t help it, listening in on him and his friends' conversations before class started. He was whitty, charming, and effortlessly funny, though he never made jokes at anyone else’s expense, like his friends did. He seemed like a genuinely sweet guy, just like your roommate had said. And basically every girl on campus saw it too, along with how devastatingly cute he was.
Despite feeling relatively confident in the subject matter of all your classes, you still did your best to fade into the background and avoid being called on by the professors. Trying to sound smart and confident wasn’t something your Korean skills (or still slightly fragile psyche) were up to yet.
But as fate would have it, you couldn’t avoid talking in class forever. At the end of the second week, during your last class of the day, you were called on to answer something pretty simple, yet you still ended up stumbling over your words, sounding awkward at best.
You easily picked up on the snide comments and snickers coming from the girls behind you. Back home you would’ve thrown her a mean side eye at the very least, but now you just kept your head down. Making enemies so early on here couldn’t be a good idea. Not only that, but you knew Baekhyun would be witness to all of it.
“Sumin, it took you three tries to pass elementary English, talking about someone else’s language skills is wild.”
His voice was just as lovely as the rest of him, so you didn’t even have to turn around to be sure who’d said it, but you still did. There was a small reassuring smile on his lips, and a pout on hers. He’d said it so casually, like it was nothing, but it definitely meant a hell of a lot to you.
She was gorgeous, and you’d wondered in the past if there was something going on between them. But Baekhyun didn't appear all that impressed with her, at least not the way she clearly was with him.
You kept replaying it in your mind, until finally class was over, and you headed quickly towards the door, worried you’d be hearing more rude comments.
“Hey! Y/n, right?”
“Huh?” Too shocked to fully react, you spun around to see him walking straight towards you.
“I’m Baekhyun, sorry about my friend earlier. You’re an exchange student, right?” His English was nearly perfect, the slight accent he had making him sound even more endearing.
“Yeah… Thank you, by the way. How do you know my name?”
“Well, you do kind of stand out. In a good way though.”
He was grinning, looking gorgeous as ever, even in a simple red tshirt and jeans, dotted with the usual colorful specks of paint. Now that he was standing so close to you, you got a good idea of how tall he was, and although he wasn’t the biggest, most muscular guy you’d ever seen, his shoulders were surprisingly broad, and his arms looked sturdy. As your eyes stayed glued to his form, your mind wandered off, thinking about how lovely it must feel to get a hug from him.
It occurred to you then that he must’ve asked someone about you, the same way you’d asked about him.
“I do?” You asked, starting to make your way towards the building’s exit.
“Well, yeah, there are other foreigners going here too of course, but I’m sure most of them don’t get as much attention as you.”
You blushed, not wanting to read into it too deeply, but you wondered if that was his way of telling you that he thought you were cute.
“I don’t know about that…”
“So, where are you headed now?” He asked, holding the door as you both left the building.
“Back to my dorm, that was my last class of the day.”
“Same, can I walk with you?”
“Sure, it’s a little far though.”
He shrugged, “I don't mind.”
As he accompanied you across campus, you couldn’t help but wonder why he was being so nice. He seemed like a nice person, of course, but he didn’t know you at all. You weren’t even an artsy type like he was.
“You’re an art student, right? Is that why some of your clothes have paint on them?”
He nodded, a big beautiful smile on his face. “My favorite is oil paints, and they stain like crazy so now I just let it happen, I kinda like the way it looks.”
“I like it too.”
“Yeah? Maybe I could paint on your clothes too sometime.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “I don’t think I could pull it off.”
“What? Of course you could, if I can then you definitely can.” He teased, swaying slightly as he took his next step, letting his shoulder brush your own.
It was troublingly easy for him to make you blush, and you hoped he didn’t notice just how flustered he was making you, without even really doing anything.
“What about you? What's your major?”
“International business, I've wanted to move here for years, and that major was recommended to me for this exchange program.”
“Well, I'm glad you finally made it.” He grinned, warm and lovely, and if you hadn’t known better, you might’ve thought that he was flirting with you. “You're from America, right?”
You nodded.
“What made you want to move to Korea?”
“My favorite professor back in the states was Korean, she told me that she thought I would do well here, and introduced me to the culture, the language, all of it. I eventually came here for a week-long spring break thing, and ended up liking it a lot.”
Even from the outer echelons of your gaze, his smile was still bright as ever, those beautiful kind eyes fixated on you with intent. You couldn’t look back at him, not yet, your fragile heart needed time. He wondered why the architecture of the surrounding buildings suddenly became of such keen interest to you.
“What about you? Why art?”
He shrugged, “I've always been the creative type, ever since I was a kid. I can’t really imagine doing anything else at this point.”
“I'd love to see some of your work, if you'd be willing to show me.”
“Of course!” His face lit up even more, somehow, and he immediately pulled out his phone, opening up a photo album of his recent projects and handing it to you.
You assumed he’d be pretty good just based on how popular he was, but when you got a good look at some of his work, it stopped you dead in your tracks. You froze, swiping through some of the pictures, speechless.
“Do you like them?”
You let out a short laugh, more in disbelief than anything else. “Are you kidding? These are amazing, you’re so talented.”
Most of his paintings were dreamlike scenes bathed in yellow and gold, bright shapes and colors coming through in the most beautiful ways, creating so much atmosphere and movement, even just through the screen of his phone. They all depicted people, mostly women, just going about their normal lives, but the colorful and abstract nature of his style made it all so much more alluring to look at. Without a doubt, he had a real gift.
He just shrugged, “I do my best.”
You were a little disappointed to reach your dorm so soon, and have to tell him goodbye, though he assured you he would see you in class. For the first time, you actually looked forward to it, the promise of seeing him and his wonderful smile again making all of your previous uncertainty melt into comparative irrelevance.
~
When the next class period came around, you’d expected to hear him sit down behind you with the rest of his friends. You did hear his friends sit down, talking among themselves, but he walked right past them, sitting down next to you instead.
He started asking you about the homework, totally casual, and you had to act like you weren’t internally screaming the entire time. You acted as normal as you could, all the while feeling Sumin’s eyes like sharpened pencils stabbing into the back of your skull.
Eventually class started, and that took your mind off things at least a little, but as soon as the professor dismissed everyone Baekhyun was once again asking if he could walk you home, and of course, you agreed.
An awkward silence filled the air as you tried to find something to talk about, but just having him there next to you made you so embarrassingly shy, you could hardly think straight. As he held the door for you, that disgustingly sweet fluttering sensation filled your belly, and while familiar, you’d never experienced it to such a degree.
“Do you have a favorite painter?” You eventually blurted out. It was the first thing that came to mind, and to your relief, he seemed excited to answer.
“Yeah! I mean, there are a ton that I love, but the one I’m most inspired by in my own work is Gustav Klimt, the way he combines art nouveau, with more classical and Japanese influences, it's so cool. I try to do something similar, but with a more Korean flair. He was really controversial during his time too, but he didn’t care and just did what he liked anyway.”
“Why was he controversial?”
“Well…” He cleared his throat, and you swore, for a second, it looked like he was blushing. For once, he wasn’t looking at you, seemingly avoiding eye contact himself. “Many of his really famous pieces are of women, usually without clothes on. There’s a lot of symbolism around sexuality and eroticism, so early 20th century Austria labeled his work as pornographic.”
“Oh?”
“Well it was the 1910’s!” He replied, maybe a little too quickly, “One rogue boob was enough to thoroughly scandalize them, you know what I mean, right?”
You smiled, comforted by the fact that he actually seemed to be the one getting flustered now. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Different time.”
“He was ahead of his time, for sure. That's one of the things I love about him and his work.”
He just kept gushing about the different pieces he liked best, showing them to you on his phone, talking about the different motifs and what it was about them that he loved. It was so sweet, his enthusiasm for it, and you took it all in happily.
You could listen to him talk about art all day long. You could see the sparkle in his eyes, the passion and excitement he had for it, and you were almost jealous of him, that he was so great at something that he loved so much. Sadly though, you soon made it back to your dorm again. However this time, when you turned to start walking up the steps, he stopped you.
“Wait, um, if you wouldn’t mind, could I get your number?”
You stared back at him for a minute, happy but surprised, before nodding. He handed you his phone and you added your contact, heart beating rapidly, trying your best not to look as excited as you felt.
When you reached your room, you saw the first text from him, one of the paintings he’d shown you. It was the same colorful yet overwhelmingly golden color scheme you’d seen in his own work, and depicted a man kissing a woman on the cheek. The racing of your heart took several minutes to return to a more normal pace.
~
As the semester went on, he always sat with you, and always walked you home. It took you another few weeks to really start opening up to him, but as you gradually did, his kind and warm demeanor made you feel at ease. He asked you about your family, your hobbies, whatever he could to get to know you better. You told him about your love for music, your favorite artists, and he always listened intently. He’d check out songs you recommended, and singers he’d never heard of, seeming as eager as you to get to meet again and discuss them more in depth.
Even as you talked to him about more personal matters, he never made you feel judged, always keeping an open heart and mind. That was another thing about him that you grew to admire.
You loved Seoul, and Korean culture, but learned that people could be more judgemental, and on the basis of quite superficial matters. Not only that, but these judgements were perfectly acceptable to express, adding an extra layer of pressure to everyday life. Baekhyun, however, didn’t partake in any of it.
Despite how attractive, popular, and as you came to learn, wealthy, he was, he never talked down to anyone. Jokes of that sort, that were normal to basically all of his friends, he wouldn’t react to, noticing the way he’d steer the conversation away from such topics when they came up.
He was accepting of everyone, regardless of their status, appearance, or various other factors. He was friends with basically everyone, too. As he’d walk with you he would always be greeting people left and right, giving everyone a smile and a friendly wave, never once ignoring someone or showing any condescension. He was just good.
His kindness, as lovely as it was, unfortunately also made you realize how not special you were to him. It was simply in his nature to be kind, even to those who might not deserve it, or could get the wrong idea. It was obvious how many girls had crushes on him, and though it never contained any malicious intent, he flirted with basically all of them. It was just part of his good nature. When he could tell someone liked him, he liked to make them happy. He never purposely misled anyone, or got their hopes up, but you still saw it happen time and time again. He would compliment a girl, and she would get all flustered, just like you had, wondering if maybe he really did like her, only to be disappointed when he did the same to her friend. If he wasn’t such a goddamn sweetheart he probably would've been labeled a playboy long ago, but everyone could clearly see that he wasn’t like that. Sleeping around wasn’t something he seemed to do either, though he definitely could’ve if he wanted to.
All of that being said, you still fell hard for him. It felt silly, being so infatuated and getting so flustered around him due to his sweet words, knowing that there wasn’t anything special about the way he treated you. He was that sweet to all of the girls, and you couldn’t even be mad at him for it, so you learned to hide how you felt. At least you wouldn’t end up looking like a fool that way.
~
Walking to class in the mornings always felt like such a chore, especially ever since Baekhyun had started to accompany you on your way back home everyday. You missed his company, and it was usually still quite cold, too, something you hated. Getting to listen to music uninterrupted was the only part that brought you some solace.
One morning was particularly stressful for you, having overslept the day before an exam, already late to the very necessary hour of studying you’d planned before going to your first class.
You were walking quicker than usual, headphones on, focused on making it to the library. However none of that seemed to deter the guy who started walking alongside you, now talking at you, motioning for you to take your headphones off.
Annoyed as you were, you didn’t want to be rude either. You took off the headphones, telling him, “Sorry, I’m kind of in a hurry.”
He didn’t seem to care, and when you started putting your headphones back on, he grabbed them from you.
You stared at him, clearly pissed off and in slight disbelief, but still, he just kept walking, now uncomfortably close to you. “I’m Jaeyong. I’ve seen you around, you’re really pretty. My dad basically owns this whole place, you know.”
“Oh yeah?” You tried to take your headphones back, but he kept them out of reach.
You’d seen him around campus too, surrounded by a posse of other rich kids, though they weren’t the kind Baekhyun associated with, and it was easy to see why. You immediately had a bad feeling about the guy.
“Can I get your number? We should go out sometime, I only date foreign girls. You guys are way less stuck up than the girls here, more open minded.”
Oh lord. You’d been warned about guys like him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Come on, don’t be a bitch. At least give me your number.”
You ignored what he said, trying again to get ahold of your headphones, and he still refused to give them back.
“You’d be lucky to go on a date with someone like me, you know.”
“Sorry, but I’m not interested. Can I please get my headphones back now?”
“What? You have a boyfriend or something?”
He’d been following you long enough that you were already in front of the library, and you really didn’t want him to follow you inside. For your own sanity, but also to spare the other students the annoyance, knowing he likely still wouldn’t shut up.
Unfortunately when you didn’t go inside, he ended up backing you up to the side of the building, blocking you into a corner.
“You can get your headphones back if you agree to go on a date with me.” His face was so close to your own you could smell his breath, turning away from him, refusing to respond. “Come on Y/n. You know you want to.”
The greasy smirk on his face made you feel sick. You didn’t remember ever giving him your name.
“I really need to go study.”
“I said, don’t be a bitch. It would be really stupid of you to reject me.” He spat, a jarring change in his tone.
He was no longer smiling, either, clearly getting frustrated with you. Fear started to take over, and you decided you could get new headphones later, you just needed to get away. You tried to get past him, but his hand on your shoulder shoved you against the side of the building roughly, painfully, and panic quickly set in, tears forming in your eyes. He didn’t even seem to care that there were other people around, clearly confident nobody would bother to stop him.
He was talking again, and you could hear the malice in his voice, though you were too scared to even really tell what he was saying anymore, cheeks now wet, repeating again and again to please just leave you alone. Your shoulder ached, still being held against the brick wall hard enough that you knew it would bruise.
Your eyes were squeezed shut, shaking your head, and suddenly the hand on your shoulder was gone. You collapsed to the ground, only vaguely aware of the voices around you.
There was a cacophony of “Leave her alone”, “Mind your business”, “Fuck off”, and more coming from only a few feet away but you just sat slumped against the wall, wishing it would all go away.
The sudden touch from a pair of hands taking hold of your own made you jump. You finally opened your eyes again, and to your great relief, it wasn't the guy who’d been bothering you, it was Baekhyun.
“Y/n? Are you okay?”
A pair of concerned eyes met your own, feeling his thumbs as they softly ran across the backs of your hands. You stared back at him, dumbfounded, too stunned to speak. He was crouched down in front of you where you still sat against the wall, the other man nowhere to be seen.
“Please say something.”
“I- I don’t know.”
You didn’t notice, but Baekhyun grew increasingly aware of the people starting to gather around. His grip on your hands tightened and he pulled you back up to your feet, disappearing into the library with you. He made his way into the first empty study room he could find, his hand still firmly holding your own.
Now that you knew you were actually safe the adrenaline finally began to wear off. Baekhyun pulled out a chair for you to sit, so you did, and he soon followed. He moved so he was facing you instead of the table, and you tried to do the same, but when you braced yourself against the table and put even the slightest pressure on it, pain shot up towards your shoulder, making you wince.
He caught on right away, moving your chair for you.
“Are you hurt?”
Embarrassment slowly took hold now that you’d come to realize the gravity of the situation. As much as you didn’t want him to worry about you, you knew you couldn’t just lie, either.
“It isn’t too bad, I’ll be okay.” You were avoiding his eyes, growing more and more shy by the second. “You should get to class, I need to study anyway.”
“What?”
The softness and confusion in his voice pierced through your heart, even with only that one word. He was moving closer, and you hadn't even realized that you were still crying, not until his thumb began to gently wipe your tears away.
You were painfully aware of the rapid increase in your heart rate, as well as the redness spreading across your cheeks. He was so close now, his hands delicate on your face, looking at you with those beautiful brown eyes swimming with unease, still so worried about you.
His eyes moved to your shoulder, and his hand to the collar of your sweater.
“Can I..?”
You nodded, turning that side of your body towards him, and he slowly moved the fabric aside.
Seeing how his eyes widened, you looked down, and saw the blue and purple bruises for yourself.
“You are hurt. Let's get you to a nurse.” He said as he stood, but you stayed seated.
“Baekhyun, it's ok, I can go by myself later, you don't have to do all this.”
“Yeah, I do. I want to help.” He said, and held out his hand, beckoning you to get up and go with him. His eyes met yours, holding your gaze with intent. You couldn’t say no to him, not when he looked at you like that. His hand was warm when you finally took it, gratefully accepting his kindness, bashful as you were.
His hand stayed holding yours the entire way to the health services building. It wasn't far, but you still noticed the looks you got, especially from other girls.
You assumed that Baekhyun would leave for class once he dropped you off, but he didn't. He took a seat with you as you waited for your name to be called, and soon enough, you were being led down the hallway, with him still by your side.
“Sorry, your boyfriend can't come in the room with you.” Said the nurse, and you and Baekhyun exchanged nervous glances, though neither said anything to correct her..
He sat himself down in a nearby chair to wait, and you followed the nurse into the room. When you returned, he still wore that same nervous expression, asking, “How bad is it?”
His sweetness brought a long overdue smile to your face. “Not bad.” You said, and pulled your sweater aside to show him the tape and bandages. “No heavy lifting for a few weeks, and I should try not to move it too much, but nothing serious.”
Finally, you saw him ease up a bit, showing you a small smile as well. “Can I walk you to class?”
You nodded, and he was once again by your side as you headed across campus, though this time without his hand holding yours. As much as you tried to deny it, you missed the feeling. Once or twice you felt his hand brush up against your own, and you wondered if he was thinking the same thing, but you knew you shouldn’t get caught up in those kinds of thoughts.
“I don’t want to intrude, but if you’d like- I mean, if it would make you feel more comfortable, I could walk with you in the mornings, too, and between classes.”
As he said it his eyes were fixed on his hands, fidgeting with a ring he had on.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to make you late, or be a bother.”
“It’s no problem at all! Really, I think I would also feel better, just knowing that you’re safe.”
“Oh..I would like that, yeah.” You found yourself looking down at the pavement, blushing, mind once again wandering off, the sickly sweet feeling fluttering within you. When you turned onto a larger road, you didn’t miss the way his hand gently took hold of your good shoulder, positioning himself between you and the street.
You went on to text him your class schedule, and he happily agreed to walk with you wherever you needed to go, though you still found it hard to believe that he wouldn’t end up making himself late as a result. He seemed so happy to do it, though, you didn’t question him any further. When you thought about the very real possibility of running into Jaeyong again, you were grateful you’d have Baekhyun by your side.
He waved you goodbye when you got to class, and when it was over he was in the same spot, already waiting for you.
It went on like that for the rest of the day, with him being his usual wonderful self. You could tell that he was trying his best to brighten your day after it started so badly, and you appreciated it more than you could put into words. During your last class, he was joking around more than usual, complimenting you more, making you smile every chance he got. When it was finally time to say goodbye for the day back at your dorm, you didn’t want to let him go.
The next morning, true to his word, he was there waiting for you when you walked outside. Instead of heading towards campus, though, he insisted you sit down on the closest bench, “I have a surprise for you.” He said.
You played along, sitting down, following his directions to cover your eyes. He seemed to rummage around in his backpack for a minute, then set something down on your lap.
He gently took hold of your wrists, moving your hands aside, and you finally got a good look at the surprise he’d prepared.
It was a pair of headphones. The same model you’d had, but the newest version. Your old pair had been expensive enough, you almost couldn’t believe that he actually spent the money on a replacement.
“Do you like it? I tried to get your old pair back yesterday, but that asshole broke them.”
As much as you wanted to fight him and insist it was too much, he looked so excited, the smile on his beautiful face so pure, you just couldn’t bring yourself to do so. You grinned back at him, standing up to throw your arms around him without a second thought. The way he hugged you back was just as amazing as you’d always imagined it would be. He was warm, his chest and arms firm in the most comforting way, and even the way he smelled was addictive. His embrace was nothing short of perfect, and it took everything in you not to whine when it inevitably came to an end.
“Thank you.”
“I know how much you love music, so I figured a nice pair of headphones would be pretty important to you.”
“It is, this is so sweet, I don’t even know what to say.”
He grinned, a teasing look on his face, “I wouldn’t mind another hug, if that’s easier.”
Your smile told him more than enough. This time, he was the one to pull you in, and he held you even tighter, letting the embrace linger for a moment longer. You put the headphones in your backpack, and started walking to class.
“You know I think that's the first time I've ever heard you call someone an asshole.”
“Well he really, really is.” He laughed. “I couldn't stand him even before he did all that. It's not the first time he's done that kind of thing either, but nobody ever stops him since his family donates a ton of money to the university and is on the board of directors.”
“That's awful..”
“Yeah he's the worst. How's your shoulder?”
“It only hurts if I put pressure on it or move it wrong, it’s really not too bad.”
You didn't have the heart to tell him that it did kind of hurt when he hugged you, but you'd happily deal with the slight discomfort of it, if it meant you'd get to do it more often.
He seemed to catch on anyway, only lightly holding onto your good side when you got to class and he told you goodbye. You wondered if he'd been thinking about holding you the same way you had been for weeks, now that he seemed so keen on it.
Every time he was sweet to you, you felt yourself falling for him even harder. Just walking with him was enough to turn you into a giddy mess, gradually falling in love with every little part of him. Whenever you felt especially shy, you would ask him about different art projects he was working on and he would show you, going on and on about what inspired it, the different motifs and themes. His voice always calmed you down after a little while, but by then, you'd usually be home or at your next class.
For days you thought about inviting him over, telling yourself you'd finally just do it, but always chickening out at the last minute. With how he treated you, you started to think that if he was alone with you, he might actually make a move. Maybe.
It wasn't until the end of midterms that you finally worked up the courage to invite him in.
He asked what you were up to that evening, as he usually would, and you told him that you were just going to study for the exam the next day, in the class you shared with him.
“Me too.” He said, looking at you with an expression you couldn't quite read as you got to the entrance of your dorm.
There was a moment of awkward silence as you both stood there, not yet wanting to let him leave, and it seemed to you that he didn't want that either.
He moved closer, about to hug you goodbye when your hand landed on his shoulder.
“Wait-”
He froze, swallowing, glancing nervously at the door.
“If you’re just gonna study tonight too, would you want to maybe come inside and study together?”
You braced yourself for the rejection, already dreading the excuse he would make, so it came as a surprise when he showed you a big dazzling grin.
“That sounds great, sure.”
You didn't miss Heejins face when he walked through the door with you, raising her eyebrows suggestively with a grin on her lips as soon as his back was turned.
“Baekhyun, this is my roommate Heejin.”
He smiled and greeted her, and you knew she'd be bombarding you with questions as soon as he was gone again.
You led him to your room, getting out your textbook and settling in on your bed, with him right next to you.
Part of you hoped that he wouldn't be all that keen on actually studying and you'd be able to just talk and hang out. Maybe, he would even make a move. Unfortunately though, he really did want to study.
Even as you both studied in silence, he somehow still managed to make the room feel far hotter than it realistically was. You felt his eyes on you more often than seemed normal, and a few times you'd looked back up at him, but he'd always quickly returned his attention to his textbook. He kept inching closer to you as well, every brush of his shoulder or thigh against your own increasing your heart rate.
You probably stole a few too many glances at him too, but he just kept drawing you in. Every detail of his face looked so kissable, your mind drifted away from your class work, wishing he was in your bed as more than just a friend.
Every time he would turn a page his hands caught your attention. The mole on his thumb was so cute, you thought, just another part of him you found yourself becoming obsessed with.
Hours went by in what felt like minutes, and when you both started yawning, you decided to call it a night. He hugged you again before leaving, only holding onto the side that wasn’t hurt.
You were proud of yourself for actually taking the initiative and inviting him in. The way he’d kept looking up from the textbook at you, more often than felt normal, kept replaying in your mind. As much as you didn’t want to fall victim to his charm only to be disappointed later, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, he really did like you the same way you liked him.
You couldn’t get him out of your head as you got ready for bed that night, and even as you tried to go to sleep, his soft smiles and the way his thigh brushed against your own consumed your thoughts. Your mind wandered off, wondering how he’d react if you made some kind of move on him, though you knew you’d never actually have the confidence to do so. The idea of him reciprocating any of it, kissing you, touching you, almost seemed like it would be worth it. However the possibility of rejection, of losing his friendship, was still too scary for you to consider it.
It was well past midnight when you finally started dozing off, but the sound of your phone pulled you back to reality. For a second you considered just ignoring it until morning, but something inside told you not to. It must've been intuition, because when you did look, it turned out to be a text from him.
Are you awake?
You replied pretty much right away,
Yeah, why?
Can I call?
Sure
Fuck. Before you even had the chance to properly freak out, his caller ID was flashing across the screen. You picked up.
“Hi, y/n. Sorry to call so late, I can't sleep.”
“No worries, is everything okay?”
“Yeah.. I think I just wanted to hear your voice.”
“Oh…”
“Is that weird to say?”
“No! I mean, you could call me at any ungodly hour and I'd probably still pick up, to be honest.”
The words slipped out before you had any real chance to think about what you were saying, and true as it was, you were still grateful he wasn't there to see how hard you were blushing.
“Really? That's awfully tempting… I might end up keeping you up a lot, though. Heejin’s gonna hate me.”
You laughed as quietly as you could, “She has her own bedroom, she'll be fine.”
“Thank you again, by the way, for inviting me in today.”
Your cheeks ached with how hard you were smiling, staring up at your ceiling with the phone pressed to your ear.
“It's nice to have some company. I always get so distracted when I try to study by myself.”
“Well, if I hadn't put it off for so long I probably would've just talked the whole time. I don't know if I'm really a good study partner, but if you want company again just let me know.”
“Well next time don't procrastinate so much, dummy.”
“So you're cool with me distracting you?” You could hear it in his voice, the way he grinned as he said it.
“Maybe a little..”
A brief pause.
“Did you have a boyfriend, back in America?”
The sudden question caught you off guard.
“No.. why?”
“Just wondering, I guess… I mean that must be hard, right? Having all your loved ones so far away.”
You wondered if you should tell him, but decide it would be best to just be honest.
“Okay that wasn’t entirely true. I was seeing someone, but he wasn’t a boyfriend and I knew I wanted to move here, so I ended it. I do miss my family and friends, but I still talk to them basically every day.”
“What about when you graduate? Are you gonna move back?”
“No,” You giggled, amused with how concerned he sounded, “Hopefully not, I like it here.”
“Thank god”
“Why? Would you miss me?”
He was quiet for a moment, dropping the teasing tone and answering with surprising tenderness.
“Of course I would miss you.”
“Oh.. I would miss you too.”
“Awww, cute.” You could practically see the shit-eating grin on his face.
“Baekhyun!”
“What?”
“You can be such a little shit, you know that?”
“How am I a little shit?!” He gasped, though even over the phone, you could tell he was just being his usual dramatic self.
“You get a kick out of fucking with me!”
“I wasn’t fucking with you! I just genuinely think it's cute that you would miss me, that’s all.”
“You can’t tell, but I’m rolling my eyes.”
“What? I’m not allowed to think you’re cute?”
There was a long pause, and you considered if you should really believe him. It wasn’t that you thought he was being dishonest, you just didn’t want to set yourself up for disappointment.
“Baek…”
“What?” His voice was once again soft, bringing with it a tightness in your chest.
“Nothing.. It’s just late, I guess, I’m pretty tired.”
For a while he was quiet. You would’ve given anything to know what was going through his head right then.
“You’re right.. I’ll let you get some sleep. I’m glad you were still up when I texted you. Goodnight, Y/n.”
“Goodnight.”
As much as it pained you to hang up, inevitably staying up much much later now that he’d given you so much to think about, his flirting just wasn’t something you knew how to handle. Even if he really did like you, why didn’t he say something more than just playful flirting? It would be a dream if he actually confessed to you, but it was exactly that; just a dream. That was clear enough considering how openly he flirted with other girls around you.
The next week he was his usual friendly self, walking with you, joking around, though you felt he’d pulled back a bit on the flirting. Part of you was relieved, since it turned you into a blubbering mess, but of course you also missed it.
He did still keep calling you though, often late at night, when he said he couldn’t sleep. A few times, you’d both even passed out with the call still ongoing. He told you that talking to you calmed him down, and once, he’d even said that he wished you were there with him. You’d laid awake nearly all night, wondering how he’d meant it. Did he just want company? Did he hate sleeping alone? Or did he also want something more than just friendship with you? Either way, until he said something more concrete, you wouldn’t be the one to ask.
It was during one of those late night phone calls that he invited you to a friend's birthday party. It was at a popular club near the university, and at first you weren’t going to attend, but he managed to talk you into it. After all, he would be there. Alcohol and music also meant dancing, and the possibility of dancing with him was enough to ensure that you’d be there too.
He wasn’t able to walk you, since he had to help set everything up, so you ended up going alone. Which wasn’t a big deal, in theory, but as someone who’d always been on the more anxious side, it still made you uneasy. Seoul was very safe, that wasn't the problem, it was what would happen once you got there that worried you. Baekhyun was your only friend there. You didn’t want to be a bother and hang onto him all night, since the rest of the guests were basically strangers to you.
When the time came you wore your favorite outfit, and stepped into the subway towards Hongdae with all the confidence you could muster.
You arrived a little later than the time he’d told you, not wanting to seem overly eager, and to your relief he already seemed to be waiting for you. When he pulled you in for a hug it was tighter than usual, and the smell of tequila on him was pronounced. You quickly took a shot with him, wondering how many he’d already downed prior to your arrival.
The club was still relatively empty, but that didn’t seem to bother Baekhyun as he pulled you towards the dance floor. You protested, and he pouted.
“I don’t really dance, at least not when I’m this sober.”
Seconds later another shot of tequila was pressed into your palm, and Baekhyun clinked his glass to yours, spilling a little, before you downed them in unison. Before you knew it, he had you on the dance floor.
It was your first real night out in Seoul, and it left you every bit as breathless as you’d expected. Now happily drunk, you danced with him, back pressed to his chest, both his hands on your hips.
Any worries you’d had about the amount of alcohol being consumed were long forgotten. You just let the music guide you, swimming in the euphoria of his hands on you and the closeness of your bodies.
When his warmth behind you disappeared, you spun around to search for him. Without him as an anchor, everything became far more overwhelming. There were more people now, the crowded space growing warmer, almost suffocating, until he burst through with a grin on his gorgeous face and two cups of water in his hands.
You hadn’t even realized how dearly you needed it until he’d appeared, grateful to drink something other than tequila. When one of your favorite songs began, and you beamed at him, and he beamed back at you even brighter. He remembered, of course he did. He knew all of your favorite music, because you’d told him so much about it.
Now as you danced, you couldn’t keep your eyes off him. His hands gripped your waist, and your arms were slung around his neck, swaying to the familiar beat, getting lost in the drunken haze of it all. You realized then that he was staring at you just as intensely as you stared at him.
This is what it’s all about, you thought to yourself. Letting go completely, enjoying the music you love, and sharing it all with your favorite person. His smile shone so brightly, and you mirrored it, unable to imagine a more perfect moment.
You hardly realized it when he began to drag you off the dance floor. The song had long ended, and as the speakers became more distant, his voice became clear.
“Y/n?”
His eyes were bigger than ever as you looked up into them, in awe of their gentle downward slope, their deep brown color, the sincerity always behind them.
“Baekhyun?”
“I want to tell you something.”
“Okay.”
“I..” He trailed off, still looking at you, seeming to lose his train of thought. “You… You look really pretty, you always do, but especially right now.”
It was nothing he hadn’t told you before, but it still hit you harder than ever. For a while you just held his gaze, until in a burst of blind, drunken, confidence, you moved closer. You stood on the tips of your toes, and ever so softly, you let your lips meet his blushing cheek. Before the confidence could wear off and you’d start to second guess yourself, you pulled him back onto the dance floor.
You both downed a few more drinks, your attention devoted fully to each other. It was silly, now, to think of how worried you’d been about coming here. You hadn’t had this much fun in ages.
Eventually you had to excuse yourself to find a bathroom. You stared into the mirror as you fixed your lip gloss, wondering if Baekhyun had a mark on his face, from where you’d kissed him earlier. You liked the idea of other girls knowing that you’d been there.
You held onto the sink with an iron grip, closing your eyes for a second to steady yourself, all too aware of the way the room spun around you. Drinking this much wasn’t like you, but you were having so much fun, you didn’t care.
The bright flashing lights and hoards of strangers were disorienting, especially in your intoxicated state. You ended up on a sort of balcony, overlooking the dance floor, trying to find Baekhyun somewhere among the crowd.
When you finally spotted him, your heart sank to the pit of your stomach. He was dancing with Sumin.
Everything that happened next felt like it went by in slow motion.
Her eyes broke away from him, scanning the room, and briefly met yours. You saw her throw her arms around his neck. She kissed him, and he kissed her back.
The music seemed to wane into a dull buzz, sudden dizziness causing you to stumble. It took you a minute to get your bearings again, but when you did, you pushed your way through the crowd and out onto the street without a second thought.
It had started to rain. The smell of wet concrete was your only company as you walked towards home, a cruel, painful pit swallowing you from the inside.
Baekhyun didn’t like you like that, of course he didn’t. He was like that with all the girls.
Summary : Jungkook was comfort personified. Your safe haven. Until you uttered the three words that ruined everything.
Song Companions :
Be My Mistake by The 1975
Warnings : none, except bad writing lol.
Word Count : 1.6k
Author's Note : This is my work since a very long time. It's quite similar to the one drabble I wrote last time, but there's just something about Jungkook and comfort that it keeps on inspiring me to write similar scenarios over and over again.
Please excuse the writing since it's been a while since I last wrote anything.
Beyond your windows, the lightning threatened to clatter to the ground. You watched it, the light almost blinding, before it went out all too quick. Counting the seconds, you waited so that you would feel the impact of it. And surely, it followed soon after. The ground reverberated with it - the cackling energy that it was hit with through the thunder.
The clouds piled high in the sky, moving with a rhythm along with the wind, which howled furiously into the lonely night.
You wondered, in this stormy weather, why did you only feel the presence of a haunting silence that filled your room?
It was the absence of a warm presence—the remnants of a resounding laughter—that you felt in your very bones. The eyes - which were the home of a galaxy of stars - were nowhere to be found.
All because of you. All because of your stupid mistake.
The mistake that now wouldn't let you get even a wink of sleep. The mistake that would follow you through your nightmares and the endless hours of the prolonging nights. It would sit with you, up until your very last breath - until you set it right, in this lifetime or the next. Which you doubted was possible.
The tears threatened to fall again, but you blinked them back. Was there even a point in lamenting further?
But the hollowness in your chest said otherwise, because it had consumed your entire being. You were nothing but a shell of all that had been - a shell of all the possibilities you had ruined.
Your sole confidant was out of your reach, and you had to wallow in your misery all by yourself. It was quite lonely this way without him - for he had been there for everything. Everytime you hit rock bottom, he was there. Everytime you celebrated your tiniest achievement, he was there. For the good and the bad, he had stood with you like a rock - comforting you always by just his mere presence.
"Y/n?"
Your eyes widened. No, that couldn't be. That must have been a figment of your imagination, for he couldn't be here now. Not after all that you had said.
As if on cue, you then heard soft footsteps approaching, dimmed by the pattering of the rain. You knew the rhythm of them by heart but couldn't comprehend why they were towards your crouched form on the bed - your chest hugging your knees. So, he really was here.
After everything, he still sought after you.
But then again, you were his best friend. It was not in his nature to leave you alone - not when he knew there was a storm of hurt raging inside you.
You couldn't stay still. Wanting to see that your brain had not been playing tricks, you risked a glance, not caring that he would glimpse your eyes that were puffy with sorrow and see that grief had consumed your entire form. You never had to care - not when it came to him. Because he would already know, for he understood you like nobody else.
"J-Jungkook?"
There it was. The sound of his name that felt all too familiar on your tongue. It was oh so sweet, and too painful to say at the moment.
Jungkook stood there at the edge of your bed. His form was barely illuminated in the darkness of your room, but you could still make out his face. His hair was dripping wet from the rain. You could see his clenched jaw, the curve of his soft lips, the slope of his nose, and his eyes. They were dimmed of their usual light, but they shone with a storm of incomprehensible emotions - all seeming to contradict each other. His hands were fisted at his sides, as if he had to put effort into refraining himself from doing something. Perhaps comforting you, like he always had.
Jeon Jungkook, your human form of comfort and warmth, stood right before you. Yet, never had he felt so distant, so out of limits as he did in this moment, regarding you with guarded eyes.
"Jungkook?" You called out again, not sure what to do. There was a heated debate of your body - which needed him to hold you impossibly close, with your mind - which was trying to knock some sense into you, that he possibly wouldn't even want to stay in any proximity with you.
He sighed in response.
The faint smell of rain and Jungkook wafted through the room—a scent that had been your favourite all these years, and calmed you like nothing else.
"Come here, Y/n."
In his voice, you found reluctance - a hint of hesitance as his eyes flitted from your damp cheeks to your wet lashes. They emphasized the very mess you were.
You merely shook my head. "I-I cannot possibly d-do that, Jungkook."
"Y/n, please." The desperation in this voice slipped through, and you saw the raw pain painted across those black orbs.
"You know that we are in no position to be in each other's company at the moment, Kook." It was the very truth that you had been refusing to accept the past few hours.
It was this truth present amidst the both of you that had put the distance between you two. It had created this rift between the two of you. You could see it in the way Jungkook refrained from doing his usual thing with you.
The newfound distance only twisted the knife of pain and dug into your wounds further.
But ignoring all of it, Jungkook continued to communicate his request silently , holding your deterring gaze.
"No, Jungkook. I-I cannot." You cowered into yourself as a fresh wave of sorrow flooded through you. You were responsible for this mess you had put the both of you in.
Your stupid, messy feelings.
Stupid emotions that overtook all your senses, and the stupid stutter of your heart everytime he looked into your eyes. This utterly stupid love that you had for him, that consumed your entire being every second that you breathed.
"Y/n, you don't have to do this to yourself. We are fine - we'll continue and stand through this together, like we always have."
"No, Jungkook, we can't," you argued.
"Why not?" His brows furrowed, forming that tiny knot between them. You brushed aside the desire to kiss it away.
"It's not fair to me nor you. You know that very well."
There was no point in carrying this any further - not when Jungkook would always be careful with you now that he knew. The very essence of your dynamic was lost the moment you said those three words. The pair of you were meant to be platonic, and nothing further. Only because of that did Jungkook communicate so freely, and laid his heart bare before you.
"It's only continuing what we have always had. I need you, Y/n." His voice inched towards breaking, and you knew you were pushing him towards the edge.
"Don't say that." Your voice was just above a whisper.
Jungkook looked utterly stricken. All the colour drained from his face, as he gazed at you with widened eyes.
The thunder struck in the distance once more, and the room shook a little as an aftereffect.
"Y/n, do you mean to say that we can't continue this any longer? Do you mean to say that-" He took a sharp breath.
You smiled wrly. The damage had already been done. What could a little more hurting do?
"Yes, Kook." You looked up at him, then. Beautiful—that's what he was. He stole your breath even now, and the hollowness in your chest felt more prominent as you weighed the possibility of not seeing him again that happened to linger in the air - in his unspoken words. "I can't do this any longer."
"Y/n, you can't - you won't just give up on this, right?" Jungkook leaned towards you as desperation gnawed at all his clean-cut edges to tear him apart - ripping his heart into pieces. "Don't make that mistake, Y/n. You-you can't do this."
It was all evident in his eyes: the losing battle that he was fighting - the one you wanted him to win. But that would only result in your eventual doom and put you back into that place of agony as you had experienced all these years.
"What you are asking of me is very selfish, Jungkook. I can't stand a second more with the fact that you are not mine, that we will always be just friends."
There. There you put out your most innermost thoughts for Jungkook to see. You laid your heart bare before him, once again.
He looked conflicted then, that battle from before still evident. But there was a defeated slouch to his shoulders, because he knew then that there was nothing he could say to tackle this.
That your decade long friendship was going to end, just like that.
"I understand." He looked into your eyes and held your gaze.
You raked your eyes throughout his face and memorized every detail of him. You committed the faint soapy, laundry-like smell of his to your memory, knowing it would never invade your senses after this.
"Goodbye, Kook." You managed a smile.
He looked at you then - really looked at you, as if seeing you for the very first time and perhaps the last time. He didn't return your goodbye nor your smile, but merely acknowledged it with a nod and just walked out of your door - out of your life.
And as he went, he left you as an empty shell. Leaving you with nothing but the fragments of him that you would make sure to cling onto all the years that would follow.
The remnants of the smell of rain and Jungkook lingered in the room, that without him, made this room all the more suffocating.
Oh my god, this absolutely can not here. I see them bumping into each other in the future - on different paths but bound to collide. Damn this has got to be the beginning
Thank you for taking the time to read it✨️ Well, about the future part, we'll see how it goes🤭 As you might have noticed, the drabble missed some significant scenes so there's hope i might post something😆
Summary : Jungkook was comfort personified. Your safe haven. Until you uttered the three words that ruined everything.
Song Companions :
Be My Mistake by The 1975
Warnings : none, except bad writing lol.
Word Count : 1.6k
Author's Note : This is my work since a very long time. It's quite similar to the one drabble I wrote last time, but there's just something about Jungkook and comfort that it keeps on inspiring me to write similar scenarios over and over again.
Please excuse the writing since it's been a while since I last wrote anything.
Beyond your windows, the lightning threatened to clatter to the ground. You watched it, the light almost blinding, before it went out all too quick. Counting the seconds, you waited so that you would feel the impact of it. And surely, it followed soon after. The ground reverberated with it - the cackling energy that it was hit with through the thunder.
The clouds piled high in the sky, moving with a rhythm along with the wind, which howled furiously into the lonely night.
You wondered, in this stormy weather, why did you only feel the presence of a haunting silence that filled your room?
It was the absence of a warm presence—the remnants of a resounding laughter—that you felt in your very bones. The eyes - which were the home of a galaxy of stars - were nowhere to be found.
All because of you. All because of your stupid mistake.
The mistake that now wouldn't let you get even a wink of sleep. The mistake that would follow you through your nightmares and the endless hours of the prolonging nights. It would sit with you, up until your very last breath - until you set it right, in this lifetime or the next. Which you doubted was possible.
The tears threatened to fall again, but you blinked them back. Was there even a point in lamenting further?
But the hollowness in your chest said otherwise, because it had consumed your entire being. You were nothing but a shell of all that had been - a shell of all the possibilities you had ruined.
Your sole confidant was out of your reach, and you had to wallow in your misery all by yourself. It was quite lonely this way without him - for he had been there for everything. Everytime you hit rock bottom, he was there. Everytime you celebrated your tiniest achievement, he was there. For the good and the bad, he had stood with you like a rock - comforting you always by just his mere presence.
"Y/n?"
Your eyes widened. No, that couldn't be. That must have been a figment of your imagination, for he couldn't be here now. Not after all that you had said.
As if on cue, you then heard soft footsteps approaching, dimmed by the pattering of the rain. You knew the rhythm of them by heart but couldn't comprehend why they were towards your crouched form on the bed - your chest hugging your knees. So, he really was here.
After everything, he still sought after you.
But then again, you were his best friend. It was not in his nature to leave you alone - not when he knew there was a storm of hurt raging inside you.
You couldn't stay still. Wanting to see that your brain had not been playing tricks, you risked a glance, not caring that he would glimpse your eyes that were puffy with sorrow and see that grief had consumed your entire form. You never had to care - not when it came to him. Because he would already know, for he understood you like nobody else.
"J-Jungkook?"
There it was. The sound of his name that felt all too familiar on your tongue. It was oh so sweet, and too painful to say at the moment.
Jungkook stood there at the edge of your bed. His form was barely illuminated in the darkness of your room, but you could still make out his face. His hair was dripping wet from the rain. You could see his clenched jaw, the curve of his soft lips, the slope of his nose, and his eyes. They were dimmed of their usual light, but they shone with a storm of incomprehensible emotions - all seeming to contradict each other. His hands were fisted at his sides, as if he had to put effort into refraining himself from doing something. Perhaps comforting you, like he always had.
Jeon Jungkook, your human form of comfort and warmth, stood right before you. Yet, never had he felt so distant, so out of limits as he did in this moment, regarding you with guarded eyes.
"Jungkook?" You called out again, not sure what to do. There was a heated debate of your body - which needed him to hold you impossibly close, with your mind - which was trying to knock some sense into you, that he possibly wouldn't even want to stay in any proximity with you.
He sighed in response.
The faint smell of rain and Jungkook wafted through the room—a scent that had been your favourite all these years, and calmed you like nothing else.
"Come here, Y/n."
In his voice, you found reluctance - a hint of hesitance as his eyes flitted from your damp cheeks to your wet lashes. They emphasized the very mess you were.
You merely shook my head. "I-I cannot possibly d-do that, Jungkook."
"Y/n, please." The desperation in this voice slipped through, and you saw the raw pain painted across those black orbs.
"You know that we are in no position to be in each other's company at the moment, Kook." It was the very truth that you had been refusing to accept the past few hours.
It was this truth present amidst the both of you that had put the distance between you two. It had created this rift between the two of you. You could see it in the way Jungkook refrained from doing his usual thing with you.
The newfound distance only twisted the knife of pain and dug into your wounds further.
But ignoring all of it, Jungkook continued to communicate his request silently , holding your deterring gaze.
"No, Jungkook. I-I cannot." You cowered into yourself as a fresh wave of sorrow flooded through you. You were responsible for this mess you had put the both of you in.
Your stupid, messy feelings.
Stupid emotions that overtook all your senses, and the stupid stutter of your heart everytime he looked into your eyes. This utterly stupid love that you had for him, that consumed your entire being every second that you breathed.
"Y/n, you don't have to do this to yourself. We are fine - we'll continue and stand through this together, like we always have."
"No, Jungkook, we can't," you argued.
"Why not?" His brows furrowed, forming that tiny knot between them. You brushed aside the desire to kiss it away.
"It's not fair to me nor you. You know that very well."
There was no point in carrying this any further - not when Jungkook would always be careful with you now that he knew. The very essence of your dynamic was lost the moment you said those three words. The pair of you were meant to be platonic, and nothing further. Only because of that did Jungkook communicate so freely, and laid his heart bare before you.
"It's only continuing what we have always had. I need you, Y/n." His voice inched towards breaking, and you knew you were pushing him towards the edge.
"Don't say that." Your voice was just above a whisper.
Jungkook looked utterly stricken. All the colour drained from his face, as he gazed at you with widened eyes.
The thunder struck in the distance once more, and the room shook a little as an aftereffect.
"Y/n, do you mean to say that we can't continue this any longer? Do you mean to say that-" He took a sharp breath.
You smiled wrly. The damage had already been done. What could a little more hurting do?
"Yes, Kook." You looked up at him, then. Beautiful—that's what he was. He stole your breath even now, and the hollowness in your chest felt more prominent as you weighed the possibility of not seeing him again that happened to linger in the air - in his unspoken words. "I can't do this any longer."
"Y/n, you can't - you won't just give up on this, right?" Jungkook leaned towards you as desperation gnawed at all his clean-cut edges to tear him apart - ripping his heart into pieces. "Don't make that mistake, Y/n. You-you can't do this."
It was all evident in his eyes: the losing battle that he was fighting - the one you wanted him to win. But that would only result in your eventual doom and put you back into that place of agony as you had experienced all these years.
"What you are asking of me is very selfish, Jungkook. I can't stand a second more with the fact that you are not mine, that we will always be just friends."
There. There you put out your most innermost thoughts for Jungkook to see. You laid your heart bare before him, once again.
He looked conflicted then, that battle from before still evident. But there was a defeated slouch to his shoulders, because he knew then that there was nothing he could say to tackle this.
That your decade long friendship was going to end, just like that.
"I understand." He looked into your eyes and held your gaze.
You raked your eyes throughout his face and memorized every detail of him. You committed the faint soapy, laundry-like smell of his to your memory, knowing it would never invade your senses after this.
"Goodbye, Kook." You managed a smile.
He looked at you then - really looked at you, as if seeing you for the very first time and perhaps the last time. He didn't return your goodbye nor your smile, but merely acknowledged it with a nod and just walked out of your door - out of your life.
And as he went, he left you as an empty shell. Leaving you with nothing but the fragments of him that you would make sure to cling onto all the years that would follow.
The remnants of the smell of rain and Jungkook lingered in the room, that without him, made this room all the more suffocating.
Oh my god, this absolutely can not here. I see them bumping into each other in the future - on different paths but bound to collide. Damn this has got to be the beginning
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Genre: fluff, established relationship, non-idol au, chef!kyungsoo au
Warnings: although it is very fluffy, there are small conversations regarding some sensible topics such as the mention of a dead parent, and tough moments during enlistment; however, they’re touched from a healing perspective and not explicitly detailed.
Summary: since the moment Kyungsoo met you, he has felt that being by your side is just like finding solace in the warmth of home. With this realization, he has meticulously arranged a surprise to propose the transformation of that comforting sense of home into a tangible reality.
Word count: 8.7K+
A/N: it’s finally here! My heart needed this fluffy fic so I indulged, the characters took me in ways I didn’t see coming so it took me a little bit longer to post (this was supposed to be the first fic I posted here, but inspiration hit with the birthday fics lol.) I didn’t want any angst but still, some happy tears are shared between them.
Some vocabulary insights I think I didn’t get to explain:
Bujubangjang - 부주방장: sous-chef | Dulce de leche: caramelized milk spread, also named arequipe, manjar, or cajeta | Gyeran-mari - 계란말이: rolled omelette | Seoleim - 설레임: Korean ice cream brand | Yeobo - 여보: honey, darling, sweetheart (commonly used between married or engaged couples) | Yeobobangjang: word play term from yeobo (여보) and bujubangjang (부주방장), created for the story’s purpose | Yukgaejang - 육개장: it is a spicy shredded beef soup.
The memories imprinted on the photo albums never failed to bring a genuine smile to his face and make him reminisce; not even the dust that tickled his nose could ruin these types of moments. He flipped through the well-worn pages, letting memories wash over him. He knows he has changed a lot through the years, but his essence is still palpable somehow; nonetheless, he doesn’t feel the need to alter anything about his personality. He’s loved by the people around him and, for once, he is comfortable and happy with the person—he has come to admit—he has surrendered his heart to.
He smiled, wondering how it would have been if they had met as toddlers, maybe at kindergarten or at school, and gone on beach trips with friends during the summer. His smile would have brightened even more just by seeing you posing beside him, poking his dimples as you are already so used to doing. Kyungsoo just knows deep in his heart that you would love what he’s been planning; he can’t let that little evil voice of doubt and insecurity win this one. You are clueless so far about his plans, but hints from you have also been received and thought through, so that’s what moved him to plan his proposal for moving in together.
“Kyungsoo, son.” He heard his mother’s voice calling from the kitchen, snapping him out of his daydream.
He followed the sound of her voice, appearing quicker than she had expected, causing her to jump in surprise. “Sorry, mom!” he exclaimed, letting out a chuckle as he approached, eager to taste the Yukgaejang, whose enticing aroma had already made his stomach growl.
“Hands off!” his mother scolded him. “I can’t let you get creative with Yukgaejang; your father likes it this way.”
He only continued to chuckle at his mother’s expression as he remembered the last time he tried and failed, earning him a week of an indescribable, odd-tasting soup. Teenager Kyungsoo would have likely tricked you into tasting it as a prank, just to have an excuse to be together in the nurse’s office, but he would have completely regretted his antics the moment he came to realize he liked you.
“Do Kyungsoo, did you hear what I said?”
“Oh, sorry, mom, need any help? Sorry, what did you say?”
Because of his giggles and daydreaming, he could have been doomed at that moment had his mom not been aware of the reason why he was behaving that way, so she only continued to give him the banchan she had served for him to set on the table.
“Have you decided which photos to take with you already?” his mom wondered, noticing the albums on the sofa before she sat down to eat with her youngest son, who was visiting for the day with a peculiar excuse.
“There are a lot. You can tell me which ones you want to keep, and I’ll choose from the rest.”
“It’s okay, you can take as many as you want.” She paused to think. “But do leave me the one from kindergarten where you have that big smile of yours; I don’t get to see it often.”
“Mom, I do smile!” Kyungsoo protested, perplexed at his mother’s bluntness but still amused.
“I know, I know,” she giggled. “It’s only directed to a specific someone nowadays.” And just like that, she delivered her last joke, playfully teasing her son just a bit more.
“Mom!”
The way his eyes widened in surprise amused her so much that she couldn’t help but burst into laughter. “I love Y/N! I truly do, but you don’t visit us as frequently as you used to,” she revealed, honestly.
Kyungsoo put a piece of haemul-pajeon on his mother’s rice at the same time that he offered her the smile she missed. “Ok, I’ll try visiting you more.”
Content with her son’s actions, she continued to eat the seafood pancake with a smile on her face. “Bring Y/N with you too; I miss our drama marathons,” she encouraged.
“I’ll sure do, mom.”
“Oh, they’re here!” You glanced toward the front door, leaving the cookie dough unattended as you rushed to the entrance to let your little guests in.
Kyungsoo chuckled as he witnessed your surprising speed. He went to check on the dough to see if he could help you in any way; he is the one that’s mostly in the kitchen, whether it’s yours or his, but you specifically told him not to do anything since you wanted to share this new recipe with him.
“Uncle Kyungsoo!” your older niece shouted out as soon as she saw him. He waved at her and she ran to embraced him. “Are you making cookies? Can you make them blue like you did last time?”
The shower of questions gave him away, so he tried to plead innocence by giving you an honest smile, which only grew bigger as he saw your two adorable twin nephews next to you. They both happily ran to hug Kyungsoo’s legs.
“I swear I didn’t change or touch anything.”
His ears could have burned to the touch, even when he was telling half the truth, because he indeed didn’t do anything—only thought about it, and got very close to tasting the cookie dough.
“I know those eyes, what are you hiding?” You squinted at him.
“Is it safe to leave my kids with you two?” your sister joked as she closed the door at a dramatically slow pace.
“Ari, he’s hiding something, right?” you kept teasing.
“I’m not.” Kyungsoo couldn’t stop his laugh. It could have given him away, but you know the nuances in his expressions too well. Also, it’s a given that he wouldn’t have had enough time to change anything.
“I’ll give you one chance; you can add one ingredient that you think could make it better.” His smile was like a reward. “He’s been pretending to keep himself busy while I’m making cookies,” you explained the context of the situation before you.
“Kyungsoo-ssi, you’re a chef, and isn’t today your free day?” your sister asked.
He only giggled and proceeded to taste the dough as everyone in the room expected his feedback; even your twin nephews paid attention, probably expecting a taste too.
He surprised himself; it was hard to tell, but there was some kind of ingredient that his palate was enjoying but couldn’t quite figure out because of the sweetness of the sugar and the distinctiveness of the vanilla extract present in the mixture.
“Are these chocolate chips?” he asked once he realized where the new flavor came from. There was a sweet flavor there that just didn’t taste quite like chocolate.
“Nope, they are dulce de leche chips; Ari’s friend makes them.”
Kyungsoo was incredulous but mostly confused. “Uncle, you don’t know what dulce de leche is?” your niece asked even more incredulously than him, making everyone laugh.
At that moment, your nephews started to build up energy and tried to climb up to Kyungsoo’s arms to see what he was eating. It had taken a long time for them to turn hyperactive, but they had been too entertained with his bunny slippers before. Kyungsoo managed to lift both of them to help them grab some chips from the bag that your niece pointed at and let her grab a bunch first.
“Remember the Latin American Festival we went to a couple of weeks ago? We tried dulce de leche with those small crumbly cookies.”
“Oh oh oh, yeah, I remember now. Mhmm, this is good, so good. I’m not doing anything; you even added sea salt, right?”
“Yeah, of course I did!”
“Well, I’m sorry to be a party pooper, but I must leave now,” your sister announced.
“Come kiddos, say goodbye to your mom!” Kyungsoo took them to their mom, but the older one started crying, realizing his mom was leaving. He jumped on his mother as soon as he was close, and it wasn’t long before the little one started crying too.
Your niece approached to try to calm her brothers, but you remembered you had just the thing to distract them so your sister could leave.
“Let’s go play in the camping tent; there are tons of balls to play with,” you told your niece so she could help you convince her brothers since they follow her lead all the time.
“Yes! And can we have ice cream?” She got all of the adults to laugh yet another time, but at least she managed to lessen the crying and desperation so your sister could talk to them and remind them that she needed to go for a while and that she was coming to get them later.
“I’ll go get the ice cream,” Kyungsoo offered. “I can accompany you downstairs.”
“Thank you, Kyungsoo-ssi. You’re so kind.” Your sister accepted his help as she put your nephew on the floor so you could take them to the camping tent you set for them to play in.
Kyungsoo led your sister outside after he took his wallet to go buy ice cream for everyone staying in your apartment.
In the elevator, silence fell, but for the generic music coming from the speakers. Kyungsoo spoke first, "thank you in advance. This means a lot to me."
“You’re so sweet; nobody has ever done anything like this. Y/N loves you like crazy, I can assure you of that, it would totally be the best surprise.” She searched in her bag for an envelope and handed it to him. “This should help with your plans.”
“In exchange, I will take good care of your kids, I promise,” he assured her as he held the envelope and handled it with so much care.
“Of course, you two are a great team. You always do a great job!”
While Kyungsoo went for ice cream, you were doing your best to distract the kids. The twins were like the moon and the sun, so the easier task was to leave your niece to play with the youngest in the tent while you tried to control the middle one, who was throwing the balls and even the toys at your sofa. The space in your living room where you placed the tent expanded to the whole house in about two minutes; all of the toys and balls were all over the place.
Luckily, you had finished the dough and were able to refrigerate it before the baking process, ensuring the mixture remained untouched by the Poké Balls flying about. This allowed you to attend to the children on your own until your boyfriend returned from the store.
You didn’t even need to get your camera to recollect the evidence for your sister because she knew her kids. However, you still took some pictures with your phone to send them to her, as you caught the kids’ enjoyment when they started playing together.
As you were writing to her, your phone rang with a video call from Kyungsoo, and as soon as the kids heard his voice, they all came running to say hi to him. He let out a quick giggle while his cheeks turned red. He hadn’t expected to have so much noise coming from his phone at the convenience store; he even bowed at some people behind the camera, apologizing.
“You can turn it to just a voice call if you feel more comfortable that way,” you suggested once the kids went quiet, expecting to see what their uncle was going to show.
“It’s okay; it’s quick. Just wanted to show these two options I had in mind for the kids.”
“They love the cookies and cream Seoleim—“
“Oh, but I want the banana one,” your niece expressed, creating a double echo from the little ones.
“Uncle, banana,” said the youngest, making Kyungsoo giggle.
“I can bring both, and do you want some vanilla ice cream to eat with the cookies?”
“You’re a genius!” you smiled. “Thank you, jagi.”
Kyungsoo mirrored your smile and waved goodbye. “See ya all soon!”
It didn’t take long for him to come back, so he got to see the chaos you got caught in again when he arrived. He ran to the kitchen before he was trapped by the kids at the entrance, and he gave them their ice cream fast enough for them to run back to you. Kyungsoo quickly hid the envelope in his jacket and put the vanilla ice cream in the fridge to eat later with the cookies. Since it was relay time, it was easier for him to hide the surprise with his belongings when you came to the kitchen to finally start to bake.
Taking care of your niece and nephews was challenging; Kyungsoo couldn’t even lie to himself that it wasn’t, but they were quite adorable and funny. You’ve been doing this for longer than he has, so it seemed to be so easy for you when he first saw you interact with the kids. However, he has worked on it and gotten to improve fast. Such as when your nephew started a tantrum because he wanted to go out to play but Kyungsoo saw it was about to rain. You came into the room to help, but he waved off your help, determined to handle it himself.
With them, he had learned to let loose and have fun, even if he had to act cute or like a clown. Who would have thought he could pull out some moves? Singing was easier, and karaoke rooms were witnesses to that, but he learned to accept that dancing was also fun, and he really wasn’t bad at it. It could be that or the opposite, but your nephew’s laugh was a reward either way.
For you, it was not just the little one’s laugh but Kyungsoo’s enjoyment. His face shone so much when he smiled, and his big eyes turned into little half-moons of joy. You instinctively grabbed your camera and caught as many of those moments as you could. The peace and comfort that he transmitted were priceless. You were happy that it didn’t take too long for you to finish setting the cookie dough to bake because you got to join them just in time, joyful to be able to catch more of Kyungsoo’s dancing and silliness with the kids.
At the end of the day, once you bid farewell to your sister and her children, reality hit you in every cell of your body. The exhaustion from playing all day, cleaning ice cream from the floor and carpet, cooking, and feeding left your muscles aching. You knew you now had to clean up your apartment, but leaving it all for the next day seemed more appealing than tiring yourself more by tidying it up.
While you were going back up to your apartment, Kyungsoo was picking up the toys that the kids left unorganized. Your sister had tried to get them to pick up everything they played with before they left, but you let them go easily since they seemed to be about to fall asleep in seconds.
You contemplated him once you entered your apartment; he was only bringing up smiles from you lately. “I can clean up tomorrow. I’m too exhausted now, aren’t you too?” you asked.
“I am,” he giggled, but he kept picking toys up from the ground. “I wanted to help.”
“You work tomorrow; rest up,” you said gently as you approached him, until you wrapped your arms around him from behind and rested part of your weight on him.
He stopped, feeling your energy drop. “I’m okay; I’m used to being tired from running the restaurant all day.”
“It was your free day today, though. I made you work too much. Kids and food are not the same.”
“Yeah, they’re not,” he recognized and looked back at you from his shoulder.
You smiled at him and managed to grab his hand. “See, just come with me. Let’s just chill for now. Let’s watch some variety shows and rest,” you suggested as you guided him to the couch and then grabbed the remote to turn the TV on.
You found a traveling variety show you hadn’t seen before, and it got you interested. The hosts were indulging in many unfamiliar and mouthwatering dishes, catching Kyungsoo’s attention. It didn’t take long for you both to get lost in the scenery and seemingly delicious food they showcased, and your exhaustion finally kicked in as you started to feel your eyelids getting heavy.
“Come closer; you can rest your head on my shoulder,” Kyungsoo whispered, and you followed his instructions. He was too content and expectant already. His smile, if only you could see it, might have given something away. His eyes, illuminated by the light of the TV, were incredibly expressive. “You did well today; I enjoyed every single minute,” he continued whispering, gently stroking your hair. All the while, he purposefully concealed that smile and look from you.
“I did too.” You gently grabbed his hand, and he squeezed lightly.
“You can sleep,” he giggled softly. “I can feel you drifting away.”
“No, I’m okay. Got to be here with you until you have to go.”
Kyungsoo knew you were tired, but he was sure something in the tone of your voice sounded different, and he couldn’t ignore the sense of urgency it conveyed. Although he had already planned to stay to surprise you, the change in the way you talked made him more determined to be there for you.
“I can stay; take the day off tomorrow and stay with you,” he offered, without giving much away.
“You’re leaving the kitchen unsupervised?”
It seemed you were still trying to keep your humor up and that nostalgia or melancholy unnoticed, so Kyungsoo tried to keep it up too, saying, “yeah, I can. I’m the chef.”
“I don’t believe you.”
He giggled, seemingly more amused than he is used to, and planted a gentle kiss on the top of your head. “Believe me now?” he asked, his voice filled with playful affection.
“Don’t buy me with your sweetness!”
Like a defiant toddler, he didn’t listen and instead shifted his body to cuddle and have you wrapped in his arms. “I just want to cheer you up,” he murmured tenderly.
There was a pause in your reaction, and suddenly, you held onto his hand again. “How…” you began, your voice barely audible as it caught in your throat. The word trembled on your lips, reflecting a mix of curiosity, surprise, and perhaps even a touch of vulnerability.
“You don’t have to say it if you are not ready.”
“Soo—“
“Rest. I’ll get you to your room and leave if you fall asleep.”
That smell was familiar—the pungent, savory scent of kimchi fried rice—paradoxically evoking only good memories with the people you love. You even smiled before you could open your eyes, but curiosity quickly appeared when you realized you were supposed to be alone in your house at this hour in the morning. Your sister couldn’t have possibly come today after the news she got yesterday. It was the low humming accompanying the sizzling sound of the kimchi rice that made you jump out of bed. The bedsheets fell on the ground, almost making you fall, and the door made such a sound when it hit the wall that it made Kyungsoo jump. The mixture of emotions was a tiny bit overwhelming, but your smile gave away the happiness you felt by seeing him in your kitchen making breakfast.
“You’re awake.”
“You’re here!”
His shoulders slightly went up and down as he silently laughed, connecting his gaze with yours in a way only he could. Your feet were smarter than you, taking you to him to yet again hug him from the back, but this time sharing your happy morning energy with him.
“Careful, you can burn your hand,” he cautioned, moving you both away from the heat.
You pressed your head against his back, inhaling the lingering scent of his perfume on his shirt. “I have you here, so I don’t mind.”
“How can you not mind?” He was surprised by your reply. “It’s painful, and I don’t want you to get hurt. You might even get me to burn the rice, so move, please," he insisted.
You looked at him, squinting, because of his unbelievable-expected, hot and cold reply. His teasing was cruel sometimes, but it really only added to his adorableness. He also said please, so he is forgiven.
“So is this the kitchen you’ll run today?” You had your wits too, and you used them wisely.
“My yeobobangjang, help me out, please?”
“Yeobo?” you chuckled. You were amused by his accidental play with the words bujubangjang and yeobo. He can’t just deny his cuteness, and you couldn't help but be charmed by his playful antics.
"Yeah yeah... I did say that," he giggled, realizing that he had let it slip without much thought. He rarely calls you jagi or jagiya, but yeobo is a whole different level of endearment that you still didn’t expect to hear.
With your help, breakfast was ready a lot faster, allowing you both to sit down and eat together peacefully. It was not a special occasion to celebrate anything in particular, but simply having him there in front of you was enough to make you feel grateful and happy. You also knew that he needed an explanation about yesterday. He wouldn’t ask unless you took too long to say anything, but he would subtly check in to see if you were ready to let him know.
"Thank you, Soo," you said, offering a warm smile and a piece of gyeran-mari. "About last night—"
"Y/N, I don't want you to feel pressured into saying anything," he interrupted gently, his voice filled with understanding. "It's okay if you don't want to tell me. Just… just know that I'm here for you."
You shook your head slightly, trying to show him that you still wanted to share. That’s all you wanted to do last night when you went back to your apartment and saw him. “I’m okay. I was feeling just a bit… I don’t know, sad? Nostalgic, perhaps?” you explained, and you noticed how his eyes were focused on you and whatever you needed to say.
"When we were getting the kids into the car, Ari received a call. Jongseung's mom is sick and was taken to the hospital," you explained, pausing briefly. "I wanted to go with her, but she asked me not to. I felt so powerless in that moment. I think..." you trailed off. Sensing your pain, Kyungsoo reached for your hand across the table, offering as much comfort and support as he could.
"I was sad because it reminded me of mom. I hadn't even thought about her in so long," you confessed, as the emotions were building up inside you. "And then, I also thought about how much Ari took care of me after mom died. I always feel like I should repay her for all that she's done. So, I wanted to comfort her and go with her, or at least help her with the kids... but she just told me to go back home. She said she would update me when necessary."
Kyungsoo jumped off his seat to take the one next to you. He brought his bowl and chopsticks and placed them next to yours. As he settled down, he gently turned you to face him, taking hold of both of your hands. With a small smile and caring eyes, he said, “you do more than enough for your sister; she knows that. You are incredible, Y/N. I bet your mom would be so proud of the woman you have grown into.”
The light in his eyes—you swear, it could warm you up for days with just one look. Being loved by him feels like peace and comfort; it’s exciting, and there’s fire and playfulness all at the same time. His kindness fills your heart with so much joy. The tears coming out were not just because of sadness but happiness because of having the best boyfriend in the world. You couldn’t even feel the cheesiness of that statement in that very moment, not when he was holding your every sorrow in the warmest embrace.
“Do you want to do anything today?” he whispered once you seemed calmer. “We can stay in, but if you want to go out, I will be more than happy to take you anywhere.”
“Did you really take the day off?”
Your curious question made him giggle. “Why so surprised? I’ve done it before,” he reminded you in his best attempt to hide his nervousness. Not that he is a workaholic or anything, but it was more due to the whole plan for the day and that he already wanted to tell you all about it.
You slowly let go of each other, and you just smiled at him, knowing how much he has done to schedule both of your lives so you can spend the most time together and never miss anything. It has also taken a lot of effort from you because both of your jobs have always been complicated with free time. “Let’s maybe go for something to eat for lunch; we can just cuddle until then,” you suggested while you held his cheeks and poked his dimples.
“What an adventurer, my love,” he joked at the same time that he carefully dried a couple of tears from your cheek, but he was the only one laughing when you playfully punched his arm. “I love it, I love it, I love you.”
“I love you, dumpling,” you exclaimed as you poked the dimple forming on his face.
“What?” His laugh echoed all over your apartment. “I haven’t heard you say that to me in so long!”
“What? Love you? Yeah… it’s been so long!” you said cheekily, but his antics still moved you, and you fought a smile by pouting.
“You dumb head!”
Your eyes widened at the audacity. “What did you just say?”
“You dumpling!” He also poked at your cheek.
“You didn’t sa—“ He cut you off with a kiss. You relaxed into it even when you wanted to just laugh out loud, but that translated into a smile, one that he mirrored while kissing you.
“We were eating,” he casually whispered while taking a small breath.
“We should probably keep doing so,” you whispered back, stopping him from getting any closer.
“Are you feeling any better?”
“Yeah, thank you.”
“Well, then you can do the dishes when we finish.”
“Yah! Do Kyungsoo!” You crossed your arms, pretending to be mad. “I’m only laughing because you are too. I love seeing you laugh. Also, thank you for cleaning yesterday’s mess, how’d you like to be rewarded?” you asked, teasingly moving closer, noticing your apartment being clean and all in order.
“Ahh stop,” he blushed, holding a giggle. You noticed him clearing his throat. “Let’s finish our breakfast.”
You often find yourself yearning for more mornings like this, with Kyungsoo playfully teasing you and your laughter filling the room. The idea of living together with him has crossed your mind from time to time, but you’re too hesitant sometimes, thinking too much if you’re in the right moment to take that step. You’re also guilty of letting other people own a place in your mind that tells you that it might be too soon, that you should possibly think about marriage first, and that settling down could mean risking your job and whatnot. Those voices really need to be quiet because you don’t see anything wrong with what you two have. Your job couldn’t possibly be jeopardized; two years of relationship is enough for you, and you’ve known him for almost five years already, so you might as well dive right in there and then.
It’s even funny how Kyungsoo is not worried about what to wear to go outside since he has at least five outfits in your apartment, even for someone who is quite simple when it comes to clothing. He even has one of his chef jackets and an apron for his uniform.
All of the getting ready went so smoothly that you could easily picture it all far ahead, but you were easily brought back to the present when you connected the dots of Kyungsoo wearing his faux leather jacket and gloves. You were seconds away from grabbing your camera from your bag and capturing that moment forever. It made sense in a way since you ended up cuddling and doing nothing for so long that you two ended up deciding to go on a picnic in the afternoon, so the jacket would serve well for the cold night, but the combination was surely making your heart flutter.
“What?” He turned around with a smirk on his face after grabbing his helmet. “Got yours too,” he said handing you the other helmet that was next to his.
“For a second, I don’t know why, I forgot you own a bike—a motorcycle type of bike.”
“You make no sense.”
“Never mind, let’s go.” Your thoughts were better kept inside your head, so you just put your helmet on and hopped on the bike. You felt the chuckle in his belly while you were trying to hold on tight. You always enjoy how comfortable he gets, but at the same time, he has made you blush way too much in just one day.
The change from summer to autumn felt more present in the past few days. The ride on the motorcycle exposed you even more to the change, as the weather was feeling nicer and you were not feeling like your head could burn from the heat inside the helmet. You held on even tighter and closer to Kyungsoo as you felt more comfortable along the ride. Somehow, you suddenly had flashbacks to the very first time you hopped on his motorcycle. You were just friends then, but now that you realize it, the feelings were catching up to you, and that was one of the first times that you thought about him differently.
You reached the first stop, which was his house, so he could leave his motorcycle parked. You had nothing really planned for the picnic, but you decided you were having it at Yeouido Hangang Park, so you would take the bus instead of worrying about parking. Kyungsoo had suggested the picnic and going to the Yeouido Bamdokkaebi Night Market, which surprised you a little, but it sounded great since you two hadn’t really had a cute romantic date in a while.
“Could you go pick up Meokmul and Hoochoo at the daycare?” Kyungsoo asked once he took his helmet off. You got lost in his eyes for a second, but then you noticed the ends of his hair were slightly damp and his nose was a little bit sweaty. He looked like his dogs, so you giggled.
“Y/N?”
“Oh, sure! Yeah, I’ll go.”
He shook his hair, hypnotizing you once more. You were completely lost and hadn’t even thought of fixing your own hair, but his hand found the rebellious lock on your left side and patted it back down. The proximity made you shiver, which made him giggle.
“Wait for me there; I’ll just go for my bus card and some stuff for the picnic.”
He dared to approach and give you a kiss on your forehead. Kyungsoo might have suspected it, but there was no denying that he had you eating from his palm from the moment you realized he had gone all bad-boy-look with his outfit today, just to match his motorcycle, just to tease you, just because—you wouldn’t know, but you’re more than grateful for the blessed view.
Haeun was at the reception today, so she waved at you with a wide smile on her face.
“Hey, Y/N! How have you been? Are you here to pick Hoochoo and Meokmul?”
You nodded happily, and when you reached the reception desk, you gave her your ID. “Haeun! It’s so nice to see you again. We’re taking them for a walk.”
Haeun’s eyes widened. She really was like a puppy taking care of a lot of other puppies. “Oh, they’ll be so happy! Come with me,” she invited, handing you your ID back after processing the discharge and calling a coworker in to take her place at the reception while you two went to get the dogs.
You trailed behind her as she led you down the hallway to the seating room, where the dogs' belongings were securely stored. "Hoochoo has been asleep for about twenty minutes now," she informed you, searching for the dogs' leashes. "Meokmul has been playing with Teoben and Vivi," she added, providing you with an update on the dogs' activities.
“Oh, they’re here too?”
“Yes, she was lucky to have them here to play with. They’re really the best of friends.”
“Did Hoochoo have fun too?”
“Yeah, she played for a while but got sleepy after eating,” she giggled and pointed towards the playroom to let you know she was going in.
It was nice to hear that they were having the greatest time while you kept their dad away for a while. When you met them, there was an instant connection between the three of you. It had only taken a few seconds, and Meokmul was the first one to like you. Hoochoo was initially shy, requiring Kyungsoo’s gentle intervention to help the little puppy open up.
Funny enough, Haeun was the one who had introduced you to Kyungsoo when you coincidentally arrived at the same time to pick up your dogs. The three of them were harmoniously playing since they had already been friends for weeks. It just so happened that the owners hadn’t met yet. The bond that you all created was so strong that the loss of your dog two years ago was truly felt by them, but that only brought you closer to Kyungsoo and his dogs.
Meokmul had possibly smelled you or heard you because the barks in the distance were definitely too familiar. The little one ran towards you, making Haeun struggle a little with the leash, and the special treat you had taken from their bag didn’t help either. You showed it, and she ate it before you picked her up.
“I’ll go get Hoochoo with the carrier in case she’s still asleep.”
“Yes, thank you, Haeun!”
“Meokmul-ie, how are you? Hello, little sunshine!” You heard a chuckle behind you after cutely talking to the hyperactive dog on your lap. It was Kyungsoo, showing his most joyful smile. He was holding a little picnic basket, which made you wonder just how impromptu it would actually end up being. Knowing him, it probably didn’t even reach one percent.
“She woke up; she’s energized now, so—“ Haeun entered and stopped when she caught sight of Kyungsoo. “Oh, Kyungsoo-ssi! The two parents coming for their little girls; how cute!”
The both of you giggled and smiled at each other before bowing your heads to Haeun. “Thank you, Haeun-ah,” you said as you grabbed the double carrier and Kyungsoo took Hoochoo’s leash. “Let’s have a coffee together soon, yeah?”
“Welcome! We definitely should, just text me when you’re free. Have a nice day!”
“Enjoy your day, Haeun-ah!” Kyungsoo waved goodbye before he held your hand and led you outside.
The afternoon skyline was gorgeous, looking like the sunset was beginning soon enough. You contemplated it and squeezed Kyungsoo’s hand, to which he reacted with a chuckle. The reason was not important; just hearing that low, sweet chuckle of his was enough to make you feel all cozy and calm. You strolled along the sidewalk with your two beautiful dogs until you reached the bus stop, where you had to get the pups in the double carrier.
Kyungsoo scratched Meokmul behind her ear as she looked a little anxious. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Promise it won’t be long, little one.” He talked soothingly to calm her down.
He kept scratching her ear on the bus ride so she wouldn’t start barking nervously, and you gave her some treats to entertain her. Hoochoo received some too, but she was at ease in the carrier, all warmed up and happy with the company of Meokmul. The ride was indeed short, but Meokmul calmed down easily thanks to both of your calming attentiveness.
Once at Yeouido Park, you got both of them out of the carrier so they could walk along with you. Kyungsoo smiled at them and then at you. The picnic basket was on the floor next to the carrier, so the two little dogs couldn’t help but inspect it with their noses. “Ready for our date, little ones?” he chuckled.
Meokmul and Hoochoo barked as if they were answering him, waving their tails expectantly. You managed to take a picture of the three of them right in that moment, and when Kyungsoo looked back up, realizing you just took a candid photo, you said, “they know something’s up. What have you got planned, Soo?”
Kyungsoo’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “Ah, it wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you. For now, let’s walk; we’ve got some food to gather for our picnic.”
“So there’s nothing in the basket,” you commented suspiciously.
Kyungsoo only laughed, shaking his head as he took the dogs strollers in one hand while the other searched for yours. He squeezed once he held it gently, looking for something in your eyes that made him smile so brightly. You were curious now, but you decided it would be even more entertaining if you waited for whatever he planned for the night.
You set off down the busy lane with one pup each, Kyungsoo not letting go of the picnic basket, and you holding the carrier. The street food market bustled with delicious aromas and a lively atmosphere filled with people’s laughter and small chatter.
You stopped at a tteokbokki stand once the scent translated into flavor in your mind. The draw was so strong thanks to the warm feeling it gave you just thinking about the taste of the soft rice cakes in your mouth. You asked the vendor for a medium serving to take away, and Kyungsoo put it inside the picnic basket. It was hard not to peek, but he was too fast at closing the cover, nervously giggling.
A dumpling stand caught Kyungsoo’s attention; he approached and looked back at you, smiling knowingly. You immediately poked his cheek. “What do you think about these dumplings, Chef Do?”
“They look delicious, right?”
You marveled at his expression, reminiscing on your requested class all those years ago to your newfound friend, who looked at you amused at your concentration with his cheek full of dumpling flour. Kyungsoo’s weakness was food. “I do see one delicious dumpling,” you teased, holding his gaze with fire in your eyes.
The words caught up in his throat, so he swallowed thickly before his voice could come out shaky. His ears heated up, and he tried to look anywhere else. He still giggled, knowing you were taking your chance at teasing him, just like he did earlier when he knew you were staring at him with those dreamy eyes because of his choice of clothing.
Luckily, the woman serving the dumplings caught his wandering gaze and asked for his order; otherwise, he would have melted in front of you. After ordering two servings of dumplings, one steamed and the other fried, he managed to pull off a playful smile at your teasing words once his heart settled. He found your gaze still lingering, your eyes glowing with glee and something deeper; he could only hope it wasn’t just his longing playing tricks on him. All of the surrounding noise drifted away, and he found himself present with only you there in that moment.
He wished to reach for you and confess everything he had planned for the night, but his question still weighed with uncertainty and insecurities, so he needed a moment of complete confidence and the setting he had already pictured. The crowd would make him nervous even when no one paid the minimum attention to them. There were still some more steps to take to reach that longed-for destination.
Kyungsoo was more than reassured when he felt your hand on his arm. You didn’t have to say a word; the slight scrunch of your nose when you smiled and the warmth of your gaze calmed his anxieties. With you, he felt not only seen but understood—a comfort that had been hard to find all those years before you came into his life.
Too soon, the order was ready. With a kind smile and a bow to the sellers, he thanked them and packed away the dumplings. Hand in hand, you continued your wandering stroll along the market, picking whatever snack you desired. Since you found some fried chicken and already had tteokbokki, you two decided to pass by the convenience store and buy some ramyeon for the perfect food setting.
It didn’t take too long to reach the camping and picnic area once you had all of your food. Kyungsoo found a great spot near a tree, where you managed to settle before the last bits of light from the sun touched the sky. He had come prepared, as you had expected.
“Let me rearrange everything; close your eyes,” he asked you as you finished getting the little ones in their carrier since both of them were tired from playing all day and walking along the market with you two.
You were surprised to hear that since you two had already set the blankets on the grass, and he had taken out his wooden house-shaped lamp and put it next to the picnic basket. You still carried on, hopeful for his surprise.
After setting the folding table and carefully displaying the indulgently selected feast with flickering candle lanterns and fresh strawberries he had brought from home, he asked you to open your eyes again.
You swiftly opened your eyes, and they mirrored the light coming out of Kyungsoo’s as you traced over all of the little details and felt your heart warming up. “Soo, jagi, it’s beautiful,” you breathed. “It looks even more appealing now.”
Hoochoo’s head popped out of the carrier, hearing the both of you laugh together. She now looked hungry, so before you started on with your meal, you gave her some of hers. Meokmul was fast asleep, it seemed, but halfway through your dinner, she woke up asking for food.
With full bellies and hearts lighter, conversation turned reminiscent, noticing how many moments you had referenced from your friends to lovers relationship beginnings. Although short and recent, you managed to get enough closeness that led you to develop such strong feelings for one another. Kyungsoo knew it was time now that the momentum was clear with your talk being about you two.
The sweet and careful touch of his hand over your cheek soothed you into a pleasant mood, interrupting your giggles with his gesture. Whatever he needed to say or was thinking about, you lovingly gave him all of your attention.
“Y/N,” he started. “I have a surprise for you,” he smiled.
“Another one?” you genuinely asked, immediately interested in all of the possibilities.
He nodded. “You could say so, yeah.” His hand lingered on your cheek, but with a light stroke on your cheekbone, he shifted towards the picnic basket.
From an outside bottom compartment, Kyungsoo reached for a gift box, carefully handing it to you. He looked expectant as you grabbed it, the corners of his lips forming a slowly growing, hopeful smile. His features were divine, lighted up by the candle lanterns, and you couldn’t wait long to see what he was gifting you.
You looked at the photo on the cover; you captured that moment just a few weeks ago at Kyungsoo’s house. It had been such an ordinary day, but you had matched sweaters on, completely unintentional. Meokmul was on his lap, and you were holding Hoochoo, who licked Kyungsoo’s chin and made you laugh. The view of such a lighthearted moment, as well as your guess at what could be inside the book, brought happy tears to your eyes almost immediately. As you looked back at him, you caught a watery shine in his.
“Why am I crying? This is just the first look at your gift,” you sniffled.
Kyungsoo chuckled, amused at your reaction, but he embraced you to try and soothe your crying. “It’s okay if you cry; just promise it is out of happiness. My intentions were never to make you hurt.”
“It’s happiness; I’m excited to know what’s inside.”
Kyungsoo was already beaming at seeing you so moved by just the cover alone. He dried your tears and planted two kisses on your forehead. “Open it,” he urged softly. “I hope you like it. I tried to do the most I could within my creative possibilities.”
You giggled softly. “You are creative, mostly in the kitchen. You’re a genius chef, and I’m so lucky to have befriended you,” you advocated for him, honestly.
“Befriended,” he simply repeated and chuckled.
You continued to open the photo album, still wrapped in his arms. He wasn’t stopping his surprises, it seemed. The first two pages of the book had photos of both of you as kids; you could see why he chose those pictures, and the caption soothed you and filled you with so much gratitude and love for him.
Were we destined to find each other? Our connection seemed to exist earlier than we could imagine, no matter where we were.
His sweet smile was timeless. You could see yourself meeting Kyungsoo as a kid at that beach, running around and playing on the shore where small waves washed over your feet. It wasn’t the same one, but something in the pictures looked as if they were taken at the same place, day, and time.
“I saw that picture at Ari’s house a couple of months ago. Undeniably so, I knew I had seen something similar before. I had my picture at home, so when I returned that day and searched for it, I could only think about how many more could show such similarities,” Kyungsoo explained, talking near your ear.
You lifted your hand to caress his cheek. “You’ve been crafting this since then?” you asked.
“Not right then, but I had been looking for pictures, and then the idea came. Mom and Ari helped quite a lot,” he chuckled. “Just yesterday, I finally got your childhood pictures so I could add them.”
You kissed his cheek and continued to flip through the pages. Pictures of you two at different schools but with similar smiles, different cities but the same colors in the sky, different dogs but the same pose. Your lives seemed somehow planned and destined to blend; your eyes kept pouring down tears of joy when you reached the page where your early encounters started to appear—all those pictures you took.
A picture of you two at the first New Year’s party with his parents specially moved you. You were still just friends then, but he invited you over since he was also carrying out the first celebration at his new apartment.
You told me about your mom two days before, and I wished with you that she was there with us. But you must be her mirror; I can see her in you from the little details you’ve shared with me.
Kyungsoo held you tighter. He hadn’t anticipated in the planning and crafting of this gift that you could be sensitive about your mom on this day, so he consciously kept you wrapped in his arms. He felt how you squeezed back, embracing the reassurance he was trying to give you.
“Thank you, Soo,” you managed to say, but while it’d be easy for you to find words to express your feelings, this time there were not enough.
“Turn the page,” he said, his voice cracking. You moved to face him, and he smiled through the tears. “I have something to say,” he managed to speak calmly, in spite of his rushing emotions.
You followed through and flipped the page. A carefully crafted collage portrayed the photos you sent him—while you took care of Hoochoo and Meokmul, or just a nice picture of a sunset you saw—along with letters while he was enlisted and some of the ones you took on his day offs.
Kyungsoo took a deep breath, and you carefully held his hand. “I…” he started but stopped when he felt his tears coming down; you cleared them carefully and softly smiled. “That time of my life was hard to get through. I don’t think I thanked you enough for being there and all that you did for me.” He finally found the right words as he brushed his thumb over your hand.
“All those letters, all those pictures, all those moments you shared with me—you gave me the hope I lacked. I told you many times that I had fallen for you slowly and carefully, but it was on my mind every day,” he smiled tenderly. “You have no idea how much I love you. I learned to say whatever is on my mind because of you; if I hadn’t said those words to you, I probably would have lost you.”
You slowly shook your head. “No, I was too head over heels for you already. I wouldn’t have let you lose me.”
He giggled and kissed you softly, taking his time to marvel at this moment with you and trying to release the last of his nerves. “Could you take a look at the last page?” he asked, breaking away for a moment.
Eager to know what that last page offered you, you turned it over and smiled. The last picture, a copy of one of your photography class projects where you captured the concept of “home,” greeted you; it was Kyungsoo’s side profile while cooking in his restaurant’s kitchen. Next to it was a photo he had taken of the two of you when you visited his friends in Busan.
You looked up at him, wondering, searching for the answers in his joyful gaze. Kyungsoo held your hand at the same time that the two little pups woke up. Both of you couldn’t help but giggle, thinking they must have wanted to be a part of your moment, so you grabbed Meokmul, and he put Hoochoo on his lap.
Clearing his throat, he began, “Y/N, I’ve been thinking about this for awhile. Whenever I’m with you, no matter where we are, I feel at home. You are my home and safe place, and I want to have you as close as I can… would you like to start living together?”
He was a mind reader; you couldn’t help but reach to lovingly cup his face. Meokmul wanted her space with the two of you, so she started licking your hands and Kyungsoo’s cheek in the process. The both of you laughed while Hoochoo wagged her tail. “Of course, Soo!” you exclaimed between giggles.
When you could breathe easily and the pups calmed down a bit, you ran your fingers through his hair. “You’re also my home. You’ve loved every part of me, just as I have loved every part of you. Would you believe me if I told you I have also been thinking about it?”
His eyes widened, and a silly laugh escaped him. “I would actually believe it, but how are we so in sync?”
“I don’t want an answer; I just want us to keep working this way,” you admitted.
“You’re so wise,” he kissed your cheek. “Thank you; you’ve made all of my dreams come true just by being you. I can’t wait to wake up each day and see your beautiful eyes and fall asleep staring at them too.”
You pulled him close, softly brushing your lips against his; he placed his hand on your neck, his thumb slightly brushing your earlobe. Your lips met softly and slowly, making you feel at ease, like coming home—him—your home. “Thank you for loving me; it’s the greatest gift I’ve ever known.”
genre: arranged marriage au, drama, angst, smut, romance, jungkook is bad at feelings (yes, that’s a genre)
summary: neither of you really wanted to be married to one another, but one maybe wanted it just a smidge more than the other. unable to know where you stand since you don’t actually know one another, jungkook takes it upon himself to at least try to make your marriage a bit more…enjoyable for you.
ch word count: 1.4K
ch warning: jungkook does not start on a good foot here. he touches without consent…he might redeem himself later but 😬
author’s note: I wrote this story years ago on another platform. It started as an original fiction story, but I’m converting it to a bts fic. hopefully it converts well 🥴 lemme know what you think! 😊
~*~*~
You stare at the man sitting across the table from you, observing his strong jawline and the smooth planes of his skin, his short brown hair.
His brown eyes are glued to you, observing you in a similar fashion, gaze dipping low across your skin in a way that makes you shiver. His broad shoulders are stiff beneath his gray suit, his clean-shaven jawline tense.
You shift your gaze to the head of the table, where your father sits with his back straight and his gaze forward, toward the older gentleman across from him. You glance his way, admiring the same smooth, albeit slightly more wrinkled skin, of the man across from you, the same brown eyes, the hair that was once black but has since gone silver.
He’s a fox, but the coldness of his eyes is clear as he eats his dinner with controlled, practiced movements.
“I simply don’t see a reason to delay any longer,” the older man states blandly, gaze not wavering from your father’s. “The children are old enough now, wouldn’t you say?”
Your father’s eyes move to you in a moment of contemplation, the sadness evident to only you when your eyes meet. He nods once and focuses on cutting the steak on his plate. “They are.”
“I mean, there’s no reason to prolong the inevitable, is there?” the man continues, chewing softly. His eyes drift over you, pausing at your chest. He takes a considering sip of his wine. “Unless, of course, you want to go back on our deal.”
Your father looks up with a thunderous expression, fork stabbing his steak. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
The old man smirks, finally tearing his gaze from your breasts long enough to give your father an innocent shrug. “I’m not sure what you mean, Henry. You’ve always been a man of your word.” He shrugs again, sitting up a little straighter and slicing into his own steak. “You should know that I am as well.”
You hear her father growl, but it’s quiet, and you look up at the man across from you as his foot catches yours under the table. He smirks, the toe of his Italian shoes drifting up your ankle.
“If I’d known there was a time limit on our little business endeavor—“
“You’d what?” the old man laughs humorlessly, setting his fork and knife down with a clatter. “Let your company fall through the cracks and go bankrupt? Lose your entire life’s work, your home?” He shakes his head when your father winces. “You’re a smart man, Henry. You should know that every business agreement has an expiration date. You either pay back every cent of the money you owe — with interest — or stick to our original deal.”
You tear your eyes away from the man still toeing your calf under the table to look at your father, his sad expression nearly breaking your heart.
Your father had put everything into his business, had tried everything he could imagine to make enough money to pay back the money he’d borrowed in full, but as the years went on, the debt continued to grow. He’d tried to wager with them, to work out a payment plan, but the Jeons wanted all or nothing.
Your father had been foolish to think his old colleague would accept anything less.
“Dad...”
Henry shoots you a look and Mr. Jeon scoffs.
“You allow her to speak at the table during business?”
“Please forgive her,” your father sighs, apology clear in his eyes before he tears his gaze from you. “She’s not usually present for such things.”
Mr. Jeon taps his fingernail against his wine glass, lips pursed as he continues to observe you. “She will need lessons on proper conduct.” He pauses, gaze shifting to the way his son is devouring you with his eyes. For the first time all night, Mr. Jeon looks pleased. “But she will make my son a fine wife.”
Your father stares at his food, pushing it around his plate in a way that displays his guilt. “I have no doubt she will.”
“Oh, don’t look so glum, Henry,” Mr. Jeon admonishes. “She’s getting married, not being stolen away for slave work. She will be taken care of.”
The man across from you smirks into his wine glass, foot hooking behind your knee and jerking you and your chair forward, chair legs screeching across the wooden floor.
Heat settles across your cheeks when you notice you’ve drawn all of the men’s attention and you clear your throat, tucking your hair behind your ear and staring down at your food. Your stomach is pressed firmly to the side of the table, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. You feel the man’s foot drift higher, the cold leather of his shoe pressing into the warm skin of the inside of your knee.
“The wedding will be in two weeks,” Mr. Jeon announces suddenly, drawing your attention.
“Two we—“ your father balks. “Isn’t that a little soon? The planning alone—“
“The plans have been set in stone for years, Henry,” the man states firmly. “I’ve given you plenty of time to pay your debt, but I always have a backup plan. Something a successful business man would understand.”
“I—“
“Now, now, Henry, please relax. As I said, your daughter will be taken care of.”
You let out a quiet yelp and jolt in surprise when the toe of the man’s shoe presses between your legs. You meet his teasing gaze and part your legs, grasping your hands around his pant leg and trying to push him off you. The pressure on your core tightens, his eyes turning cold and commanding, and something twists in your stomach.
Your fathers’ conversation continues as if nothing is happening. You’re not so sure they even notice.
“She will be sized for a dress and whatever else she needs this week,” Mr. Jeon comments. “She will also need to quit that grueling job of hers. There won’t be a need for it once the marriage is final.”
“What?” you yelp again, this time jolting backwards, nearly pushing your chair over. The man across from you catches the chair with his foot and quickly rights it, finally pulling his foot back to his side of the table. He observes you with a frown.
Your father looks horrified at your outburst and Mr. Jeon looks a cross between furious and amused.
“You couldn’t possibly think we’d let you keep a waitressing job,” Mr. Jeon spits, nose wrinkled in disgust. “Our family has a reputation. You are to stand at my son’s side and lead this business when the time comes. Until then, you will learn.”
Your eyebrows furrow. “I’m sorry, learn?”
Mr. Jeon’s expression teeters on cruel as he wipes his mouth with a cloth and stands. “You will learn about the business, how to run it, how to support my son.” He pauses, eyes drilling holes into yours. “And you will learn your place in this family.”
You feel angry tears well up in your eyes and turn away from him, ducking your head to stare at your hands in your lap. Your hair falls on either side of your face and you allow it to hide you from them. You don’t want to show just how terrified, just how upset, this all makes you.
You’d reassured your father that it was okay, that you would somehow be okay, but would you? Your waitress job isn’t much, doesn’t even pay much, but it’s the one thing in your life that’s yours. Your father has his business, you have your job and that grants you a modicum of independence. Without it, you would just be a wife. A Jeon. Whatever they want you to be.
You feel your chest ache at the thought.
“We will speak more of this at a later date,” Mr. Jeon dismisses, motioning for his son to stand. “Come, Jungkook, we have business to attend to.”
Jungkook takes one more look at you and follows his father, the sound of their retreating steps loud in the otherwise silent home.
When they’re gone, you quickly rise to your feet and begin to clear the plates in silence. It isn’t until your father puts a hand on your shoulder that the tears start to fall. You turn into his chest. He takes the plates from you, setting them back on the table, and puts his arms around you. You hug one another tightly, with him whispering apologies into your hair and your tears spilling onto his cotton shirt.
No matter how many times he says it, you both know a sorry could never salvage the situation.
There’s nothing more to be done.
In two weeks, you will no longer be a Shin.
You will be a Jeon, wife to Jeon Jungkook and daughter-in-law to one of the slimiest businessmen you’ve ever met.
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"I ... I think there must be some kind of mistake."
He smirked, tilting his body towards you. "Nice try sweetheart. I know your brother told you about me."
Her fingers trembled as you tried to get ahold of yourself. You found yourself unconsciously taking a step back. His eyes traced your movement in calculation. He grinned and began edging towards you.
"Not all the rumours you hear are true. Maybe your brother isn't who you think he is."
the fact the majority of us experience rushed mornings is…cruel to say the least. mornings are meant to be calm. mornings are meant to be sweet hellos.
— But, darling, if you hadn’t fallen, you wouldn’t have met him—the one who’ll render you mad and drunk with his love so much that you’ll never want to find sanity again.
word count: 10,458
(PART I) contents: ANGST, fLUff, drAMa, Theseus, stages of grief but its kinda all over the place, rUNAWAY PRINCESS!!! yikes, betrayal yIKES, implied drugging, hEARTBREAK, you have a sucky sucky childhood, daddy issues, a lot of artistic interpretation but I think this is my most favorite one AAAAAA, not necessarily accurate (i mixed up a lot of versions and made up some shit), a bit historical?? idk anymore, Greek Mythology AU
pairing: Jung Hoseok x Reader
Inspired by Dionysus and Ariadne
[masterlist] | check out [Elysian Tales] & [BTS as Greek Myth Icons]!
A/N: HeRE iT ISSS! I HAVE BEEN SO EXCITED TO FINISH THIS LIL SHIT Hobi’s story is an ABSOLUTE favorite 😭💖
P.S. i've divided these into three due to limit issues so stay tune for the next part! ☆⌒(*＾-゜)v
A heavy feeling rests in the pit of your stomach, as the ship continues to sail away from the land that birthed and raised you. That island was all you had ever known and yet there it was, having gone much smaller as time progressed—even the grand palace is now barely visible from such a distance, much more the people trying to pursue you.
You have committed treason—something you were well aware of. You had betrayed your father as an accomplice to your monster of a half-brother’s murder and had eloped with the very man who took its life.
A large part of you argues that you had done the right thing. Your half-brother was a vicious monster, who had slaughtered innocents in the maze you were forced to represent. He was an accursed reminder of the atrocity your late mother had done. Before his death, you had witnessed first hand the people being fed into the labyrinth as some sickening game guised as a sacrifice.
You, as your father's daughter, had been made mistress of the labyrinth as soon as you came of age—subjected to all sorts of pleas, cursing, and threats that its victims had thrown at you. Their voices echo hauntingly in your head, as the memory of people walking into that dark pit and never returning constantly mar your mind. It is a nightmare you cannot escape from.
But that, now, has changed.
You, as princess of your people, have done justly to assist a foreigner in ending such pandemonium. The Minotaur is dead and with that, you have greatly helped in ending your father’s cruelty. You are a hero.
So, why does it feel like something’s amiss?
“Princess?”
A voice greets you from behind, startling you into staring away from the kingdom you were leaving behind. Butterflies erupt as you see Theseus before you with the moonlight casting an ethereal glow on his striking features. You smile softly as he lightly bows to you. “Theseus,” your voice radiates adoration as you say his name. “What brings you here?”
The chill wind of early autumn tousles his dark brown locks as he stares towards the fading form of Crete with you. “We will be stopping at the island of Naxos in a few hours[1] ,” he tells you with a side glance your way. “The captain and I deemed it best to rest there for a while and replenish any supplies we lost.”
“Of course. That seems sound,” you could only nod, not knowing much of maritime welfare after all. What you do know, however, was that the sea was as fickle as the god that reigned over it. You supposed that it was better to prepare for any catastrophe, than to expect everything to be smooth sailing.
Feeling a hand on the small of your back, you come back to your senses, only to see Theseus waiting for you. Only then did you also realize that on your shoulders was his cloak. It envelops you with warmth. “It’s late, princess,” he nods towards the quarters. “It’s been a long day, too. You must sleep.”
Words coming out a stammer, you clutch the cloak in your hands. “Yes,” you shyly blush as your heart hammers in your chest, “You too.”
The hero beside you smiled kindly, gesturing with his hand this time. “Let us go then,” he invites you, warmly—and for someone so used to the dark, cold walls of Crete, you couldn’t help but swoon.
What a blessed woman you are.
You arrive at Naxos around late in the afternoon, taking a small boat or two with Theseus and a few members of the ship to a secluded part of the island while the rest stay to man the ship at a distance. Docking a great distance away from a small town, the land that greets you and takes you away from the roughhousing of the waves greatly comforts you. There were big rocks surrounding the little beach—something Theseus thought would do well to hide and border the camp.
A group began laying out the tents for the night, many hands trying to make quick work. You did your best to assist them in any way, but you were met either with cold glares or dismissive waves. You then attempted to help a frail boy struggling to carry a crate, but he, too, doesn't seem so fond of you. "I'll be fine in the hands of my people, princess," said the boy, voice calm but eyes failing to hide his contempt, as another fellow came to help him instead.
It was clear to you.
You may have aided their hero in slaying the Minotaur, but your conscience and reputation was still drenched by the blood of their people—the people that you couldn't save any sooner. In their eyes, you were still a princess of Crete—still the mistress of the maze that brought them before the gates of the Underworld.
And so, you endure their unwelcoming gaze, looking for something else to make yourself useful—for something else to prove you worthy of their trust.
While the experienced went to hunt animals for a meal tonight and the journey ahead, there were others that were tasked to retrieve some supplies from the local town. You decide to join them, but, in an instant, you are pulled aside by Theseus, who was already dressed for the hunt. "Where are you going?" he asks, voice hushed but with a little panic.
Furrows form between your brows as his sudden interruption holds you aback. "I want to help," you earnestly declare, but the conviction wasn't quite present, so you clarify yourself further. "I will accompany them to town an—"
"We cannot risk you to be seen in town, (Y/N)," Theseus exasperates, harsh tone taking you aback. "It'll bring us more trouble than we already have."
Your hastening heart seemed to stop altogether. "Ah… right…"
How come you never thought of that, (Y/N)?
He sharply inhales, breathing almost stopping altogether, upon seeing the flash of hurt in your eyes, your determination faltering. Theseus eases a little then, lacing a hand in yours while the other caresses your cheek. "Why don't you…" his mind reels as he thinks of a compromise, "why don't you help gather some wood for the fire later?"
Your eyes lit for a moment, but soon began to contemplate. Wood for the fire—yes. That seems accomplishable.
"Alright," you say, mustering a meek smile as you did.
With that Theseus called forth a young man. Andreas, he addressed him—the same boy that had refused your help with the crate earlier. "Take her with you to fetch some firewood," he tells him, and while the boy nods, you could tell he was hesitant.
Theseus turns back to you with a smile, happy to have settled this. The fabric that embraced your shoulders was moved to shield your face, his careful touch tingling against your skin. "Be careful," Theseus then instructs, urging you to still keep your identity secret, lest your father had sent out soldiers for either of your capture.
"You, too," you attempt to smile, a hand gently squeezing his own before the two of you part, worried but hopeful.
Andreas never spoke a word with you as the both of you gathered what you needed from the forest. In your arms were a bundle of sticks you thought were similar to what you saw him pick up. You couldn't really find it within you to ask, for fear of being seen bothersome by the lad.
"Why help us now?"
You nearly jump at the sudden words that reach you. Looking up, the young boy was standing a few feet ahead of you, his back turned as he did. "I'm sorry?" You stammer, unsure of what he meant. "What do you mean to say?"
You were greeted by a ferocious glare. "You let us suffer for years, but now you helped our people escape," Andreas sneered, "why?"
Tears sting your eyes but you blink them back. "I…" you began, but your mind seemed to run blank. "I needed strength," you say, mustering enough words to express your thoughts, "and a chance to go against my father..."
"Your prince is both," you give the boy a soft smile, hoping it would ease him.
Theseus was your key—not only to freedom, but also for repentance.
Still, the young boy scowls, brows furrowing so deep together that you fear they might never go back to normal. "I know my sins cannot be absolved for doing this," you plead, taking a step forth, "but I swear, I never found any joy in your suffering."
Andreas scoffs, but says nothing. He, instead, goes back to his task of collecting firewood and ignoring your existence. A shaky outbreath escapes you along with a few tears running down your cheeks but you wipe them away and focus on your task, too.
Idly tying the bundle with a rope, you began to think of your future.
Theseus had promised to make you his queen upon returning to Athens, but how easy would that flow, if your history as mistress of the labyrinth remained in their minds? What queen would be welcomed and loved that way?
You sigh and push such thoughts away. You'll deal with it when it comes, you tell yourself. A long journey awaits you, and you haven't even made it to Athens yet. Surely, a time will come for you to show your promising prowess to the people.
With that hope, you were a little more resolved and ready to return to reality, taking more time in indulging yourself with your surroundings.
The island was very much smaller than the kingdom you were accustomed to, but it certainly felt much more welcoming. Nature surrounded you as leaves crunched at each step beneath you. The sky in a blur of warm colors being tainted with the impending night.
It felt oddly serene—more soothing than you have been treated at the camp. A part of you was tempted to stay here instead.
Then, it came to you.
You were alone.
Heart shattering just a little, you stood up from where you were crouching. All around you was darkness. "A-Andreas?" you call out, voice shaking as you look into the expanse of the forest. "Where are you?"
Instead of a response, your ears pick up the sound of music instead—a flute perhaps, being played somewhere, but the direction seemed to lead further into the forest rather than out. Goosebumps littered your skin from the cold and the shiver that ran down your spine. It may be someone from the town, or a group of travellers like your own, you reason, but such news would either be bad for someone in hiding like you.
"Lost, are we?"
There was a sudden voice that filled the air—slurred but mischievous—rendering you to drop a few sticks as you whirl around like a fool looking for the source.
Who was that?
"Up here, dear."
The voice says again, the sound luring your eyes towards a tree nearby. Splayed across a big branch above was a dashing man—ethereal, really—looking down at you through barely opened eyes, as the early autumn wind gently blew on the part of his robe that dangled from the tree. He gives you a lazed grin as he pulls out a small flask from somewhere behind him. "Would you like some?" he then asks as he takes a generous swig of the drink, thin droplets of watery red running down his chin and onto his collarbone.
Is that wine?
Taken aback by his presence, you tear your eyes away from the stranger and gather what had escaped from your grasp moments before. He's inviting—tempting—but you mustn't stray. "No need, sir," you politely tell him, "I'm not thirsty."
No less from a stranger.
The young man nonchalantly shrugs. "Shame," he says, taking another swig as he makes no further comment.
You couldn't bear to dilly dally any further either—no, not with the darkened sky already upon you. Wait… a dark sky?!
With the realization that the night was settling in, panic settled in you. "Oh no," you huff, hurriedly gathering the ends of your dress to ready yourself to bolt back to the camp. "You should get down there before you fall, sir," you give the stranger a hastened smile. "Farewell!"
Not waiting for his response, you ran.
—and run you did.
It was ungraceful—something your late governess would've greatly frowned upon—but you make it back with only a few moments of getting lost. Your chest heaved as sweat ran down your skin, but the proud look you had on your face for coming back soon fell.
There was a bonfire already lit in the center of the camp, bright as could be.
The chatter lessens at your arrival, a few looking at your disheveled state, while Theseus approaches you. "What happened?" he asks, brows furrowed. "Andreas said you walked off on your own."
You glanced at the boy, who immediately avoided your eyes, almost sorry for what he did. Forcing a smile, you turn your attention back to Theseus and give him the bundles you gathered as you went along with the boy’s narrative so he wouldn’t be in trouble. "Yes, well," you cleared your throat, "I thought I saw something, and became distracted. I'm sorry."
Theseus doesn't question you any further, only nodding as he looks at the wood you gave him. "Ah…" he then grins, throwing a stick or two into the already roaring flames. "Thank you for these," he says in an attempt to assure you, "it'll keep the fire alive tonight."
You muster a smile back, nodding as you watch the fire crackle strongly before you. "Ah…" you idly hum, "you're welcome."
A nasty bout of hurt and irk began to bubble within you at how effectively useless your help was. You see the amount of wood Andreas gathered, realizing that, with how many they were, they only made your meager bundle useless. You could've easily not accompanied him and the group would've been fine for the night. Your effort and time was wasted, and yet remembering the weight of the situation is the water that douses your fury.
The people here have been hurt by your kingdom, and Theseus was the one that came to save them from their terrible fate.
Even if you are to have Theseus by your side, it comes to you very well that you are the foreigner amongst them—one against many, with no favors amidst your graces other than Theseus' gratitude and affections. You cannot give them your fury—not fully at the very least.
And so, you sat idly by the fire, listening to their merry chatter in your silence. The fire began to seem like images at some point—people dancing, twinkling stars, a merriment unlike any other—and it coaxes the beginnings of a smile out of you.
"Here."
Knocked out of your stupor, you look up at whoever sat beside you and see Theseus with a bowl of some soup. You gingerly take it from his hands. "Thank you," you meekly say, taking an idle spoonful to your mouth.
All the while, Theseus makes an attempt to salvage the silence between you both. "We caught two boars in the forest," he began, nodding towards the canopy of trees surrounding the camp. "A few of the others took one of the boats back to the ship to give the meat of one boar to the rest there."
You hum, scooping one of the meat chunks in your bowl. "Sounds wonderful," you tell him politely as you chew, "the cook did great work with the soup, as well."
Such words were a bit coated with sugar. No one will like the salt of the thoughts sitting in the back of your mind—not when any of you are in a position to complain when survival is essential. It wasn't the tastiest of meals you've ever had—the flavors clash at some bites—but it should fill the belly just enough.
Next to you, the Athenian hero nods thoughtfully. “Ah, yes, Leda managed to make a meal out of what little we had,” he hums, “I’ll let her know you liked it.”
With nothing more to say, you only nod, not forcing yourself in engaging idle chatter with him. You didn't have it in you to. You suppose that after the journey you feel… tired? despondent?
Either way, your lack of motivation easily lets silence conquer the air between you and Theseus. He didn't seem to mind, spending time conversing with the captain about the boat and the travel ahead—a talk which easily slips past your head as you lose your train of thought in a daze looking at the racking fire ahead.
Your bowl lasts a little under half-filled in your hands by the time you decide on the last spoonful for your fill of dinner. A light chill of the sea breeze comes and goes, making you take your shawl off your head and wrap it around your shoulders once more.
The stretch of standing up bears a light grunt from your lips, catching Theseus' attention. "I think I'd like to go and rest now," you softly declared with a tired, tight-lipped smile—an excuse really but it wasn't a complete lie.
Theseus looks quite surprised by your announcement. "Already?" he says, almost to himself, "but you haven't finished the bowl…"
You fluster, but hand him the bowl nonetheless. "I apologize for wasting, but I really am full," you say. “The day has been… eventful. I think some shut eye would be good."
A furrow forms between Theseus’ brows, but he questions you no further. "Alright…" he sighs, pointing to a tent ahead. “That tent, over there, is yours,” he tells you, watching as you nod and smooth out your dress.
He, too, soon stands up, but he offers you a smile instead of walking you to your tent. "Sleep well, princess.”
Eyelids already growing heavy, you could only hum as you tread through the sand. "Good night."
The dream that Morpheus brings you that night was bizarre for someone who has lived the way you have.
You were in a palace of sorts, though you hadn't any idea where and why.
Around you were drunken bodies who surrendered to the feel of the music that clouded the entire room. The melody of a flute lingers in the air and though you can't quite tell where you've heard it from, it’s somewhat familiar.
You, yourself, were feeling light-headed, swaying to the music. Someone brings a chalice to your lips and you let them.
The wine dances along your tongue—so addicting that you couldn't help but gulp more.
"That’s right, drink," said a soft voice in your head, encouraging you further. "Ease yourself from your worries."
You almost do.
—but someone in the distance catches your eye. Standing in the midst of the sea of people, he stares at you relentlessly, and your heartbeat races and the haze in your head wears itself down. You forget whoever it was that handed you the chalice, forget them as you continue to look in the distance.
He's gone.
Where is he?
The world begins to spin around you—so dizzying that it makes you clutch your head.
Still, you try to reach where your eyes last saw him.
"Theseus?"
Your eyes had trouble fluttering open, but as soon as you did you were stricken with a pounding in your head. Was it possible for a dream to have such an effect? What was the dream even trying to say?
A groan leaves your lips, eyebrows scrunched together at the unpleasant feeling. The pain doesn't ease soon, and you attempt to massage it away, but as you move your hand, you become aware of the emptiness at your side. All of a sudden, it became so easy to forget the dream that you had.
Brows knitting much closer in confusion, you will yourself to get up and look around.
The tent is empty—almost untouched.
Has Theseus and the others gotten up already?
There was an attempt to stand and look around even more, your legs shaking as you do so. The clay pitcher on a nearby crate leads you to become aware of just how much your throat feels parched. Paradoxically, you also have the urge to vomit.
Nonetheless, you made a grab for the pitcher. The water flows down your throat in greedy gulps as you shakily hold it in your hands. Your headache slightly eases, but it's inconvenience is still there to torment you.
What did you eat last night to upset your head and stomach so?
Crawling out of the tent, the striking sun glared down at you so much that another hiss leaves your lips. You were only plunged further into bafflement, shielding your face from the heat. Seeing the sun so high up in the sky could only mean that it's well around noon alre—
Where's everyone?
All too suddenly, you were wide awake. Your hand falls to your side, letting the blistering heat of the sun strike down onto you. The deafening silence around you mirrors your thoughts as you try to take in what was going on.
The fire had long extinguished, leaving only charred wood and ashes.
There were no longer other tents but your own.
Most hauntingly, the ship was no longer at the visible distance as it was before.
At that moment, you couldn't breathe.
It takes everything in you to will yourself to move, carefully walking around what used to be the camp the crew had set up not more than half a day ago. There had been three or four more tents set alongside yours. There had been a large cauldron for the soup over the fire. There had been crates of supplies gathered from their hunt and travel around the nearest town.
All of that, gone.
Your eyes were frantically scanning for answers—anything to make sense of it all. There were marks in the sand—movement, many of them, leading to where the boats used to be. These were the telltale signs that you refused to believe.
Your heart pounded against your chest, and even as the wind blew your hair over your face, you didn't move an inch—couldn't—in your disbelief. "No," the word crawls out of your lips, hoarse from both sleep and hurt. You rub at your teary eyes furiously—even as they hurt.
"Wake up, (Y/N)," you tell yourself, "Wake up."
In the distance, you see the rocks that surround the beach, and an idea immediately comes to you. With barely any hesitation, you run—stumble—towards them, all as pebbles, shells, coarse sand, and force make your feet hurt instantly, but the panic in your veins rendered you reckless and desperate.
The struggle in climbing the harsh terrain was immediate for someone like you, who was taught to never do such rowdy, unladylike activities, but you couldn't bring yourself to give a damn at that moment. It could be the very key to the answer you were looking for.
And, unfortunately, it was.
The sea breeze blew the strands of your (h/c) hair to and fro, as wisps of the sea trickled onto your skin. You looked over towards the horizon, staring at what used to be the ticket to your freedom. The ship has sailed so far away that it was barely the size of the pebbles that stung your feet. It would be a futile attempt to try and swim towards it.
(Gods, with what offense your father had done to Poseidon, you never even learned how to swim.)
You hope it to be a terrible mistake—perhaps, some sorcery from a witch or the exhaustion from yesterday's voyage making their heads weary. You don’t know how any of those could be, but you would take anything other than the dread looming over you.
“Theseus!!!”
You cry out his name, desperate, your hold on the boulder only tightening, hurting your palms and heels. “Theseus!” you sob, your entire body shaking as your head pounds yet again at the volume and force of your yelling. The backlash of your brain sends you faltering—and, eventually, falling off of the rocks.
A voiceless cry and a hiss forces tears to fall from your eyes as you land harshly on your back. It hurts. Everything hurts.
You could feel the sand flitting onto the gashes that undoubtedly would’ve been all over your skin. The sea—that damned sea—nips at your bottom half where it reached you and makes your damned wounds sting even more.
This is just a dream. It can’t possibly be real, can it?
You rack your brain for memories of the warm light that had come in the form of Theseus—he who had come to you for help and promised help in return.
Yes, of course it isn’t. This is just a dream.
Theseus swore he would bring you to Athens with him, where you would be away from the clutches of your father’s wrath. He swore to protect you. He swore to introduce you to Athens as his accomplice and that you would spend a great life together. Together—that’s what he had promised you.
Forcibly, you fluttered your eyes shut.
This is just a dream—a nightmare.
You’ll soon awake to the real world, awake by Theseus' side. You’ll both go on into the ship and the voyage will continue until Athens comes to the horizon. He’ll protect you. He’ll come back. He'll—
You open your eyes again, ribs hurting as you take a greedy intake of air. You weren’t at all back inside the tent next to your hero. No laughter or chatter to be heard around you.
You were still at the shore, helpless and away from a ship that only navigated further from you.
You were alone on an island with a few supplies at your call, but little to no experience of surviving in such a cruel world.
Theseus was gone. He had deserted you.
Your fists clenched at the blurred image of the ship’s massive white mast engraved in your head. It was taunting you.
Relentless tears streamed down the curves of your cheeks, and you found it hard to get yourself up from the grainy ground beneath you. The very man you decided to trust with your life had now left you for death. Was this what you get for betraying your father? Had you not done the right thing after all?
“THESEUS!!!”
His name rips through your throat raw, as if he could hear you—as if it would've mattered.
"Theseus!" You scream again into the sky, your entire body aching from the fall and the heartache all the same. Your hands bury themselves in the sand underneath you, crushing whatever sand they could hold in order to try and satiate some of your anger. "How could you do this to me?!" you wail, bringing your good arm over your face to shield yourself from the blinding sunlight—from the world in general.
You remember seeing his face as that of a stranger—of how you saw him walk in with the new line of sacrifice, of how he told you of your kingdom’s terrifying reputation, of how he emboldened you to join his cause.
I trusted you.
Your heart aches, remembering his smile, his touch, his words—all of which had deceived you in turn. Theseus was the warm light gracing your life—the one that guided you out of that wretched place.
I loved you.
In the end, he was but a flame that scorched you.
You would rather die than bear a torture like this. At the very least with death, the pain ends. Your soul would reach the other side, crossing over to the Underworld where you could drown yourself in the Lethe River and forget.
Forget the humiliation, the betrayal, and the foolish endeavor your life has become.
Forget the kingdom that made you and the kingdom promised to you.
Forget the man you gave your all to—your honor, your heart, your life.
As it seems to you, the gods plan to do nothing—perhaps, it is a punishment in and of itself to forsake you, to let you rot away. You could hardly lift a finger in your state of mind and body—could barely breathe without a sob slipping past your lips.
Eyes fluttering close, you settle for the next best thing to death—sleep.
Maybe then, you will never awake.
However rare such times would be, he would often go looking for places if he wanted to spend some time alone for himself. Naxos, being a land where he is most welcomed to call his domain, seems to have a lot of such places for him, which is why he wanders off around here as often as he does.
This time, the faint sound of waves began to reach his ears as he treaded the forest. Another beach but he doesn’t at all feel like going for a swim out in the open—not when the sea reminds him of the many times sailors have tried to kidnap him and sell him for a price.
However, Agrios, beside him, seems keen on the idea, halting and staring intently towards the direction of the beach. “Do you want to go on a swim?” he asks, nonetheless following him out of the forest line. “Perhaps I should’ve brought your siblings along…”
The beach was relatively peaceful, beautiful for a little gathering too. It'd do well to tell his people of this, but, as of the moment, it was still too open for his liking. He might be seen by someone he doesn't know or someone he does know and ruin his time alone.
Perhaps, he'll instead go to that little cavern he found a fortnight ago. It should be around here, somewhere…
"Oh?"
Something catches his eyes, stopping him from his thoughts—a lone tent sits amongst the sand with a bonfire long dead and out. A curious case, he thinks. Many travel through Naxos in their journey, but what's a camp like this doing so far away from any of the towns?
Just as he came to snoop inside the tent, something from the corner of his eyes caught his attention as well. In the distance, he sees something by the rocks, Agrios already ahead of him and inspecting whatever it was. He walks closer, curiosity getting the best of him—as it always does.
A woman.
As it had turned out, the very same one he faintly recalls meeting in the forest last night. The sunlight grazing the beach certainly makes her beauty much more apparent than the previous night where he had only spared it a glance beneath the darkness of the eve. "Oh my," he clicks his tongue, as his eyes flit over her sorry state and a frown unconsciously settles on his lips.
He wasn’t one to be too nosy, but he feels immensely compelled to look her over. Carefully leaning his ear against her chest, a faint heartbeat confirms that she was still alive. At a closer glance, he sees the tear stains that mar her cheeks and also takes note of how the pesky sun had left her skin a bit dry and sunburnt. Down the line, inspecting the wounds that ran down her arm, the frown upon his lips running deeper. So much pain, he thinks, shaking his head.
Above all, she shouldn't be left out in the open like this. "This is no place to sleep in," he tuts, looking expectantly at Agrios. “Don’t you think?”
The animal merely blinks back, eventually forcing a sigh from his lips. “Fine,” he grumbles, gathering her in his arms as he lifts and heaves with a grunt. He hasn't been doing much else other than drink, dance, and sleep, so this may indeed be an unfortunate downside of his reckless living. (Still, it somehow feels nice to carry her like this.)
Assuming that the tent nearby was hers for the taking, he carries her towards it, and places her onto the haphazardly assembled sheets and pillows. Her hair splays out and over her face and neck, but he soon makes sure she is in a comfortable position. Sleep, after all, is a great pleasure to have just as any.
As he dries the sea-soaken parts of her, the woman still shows no signs of regaining consciousness, her chest softly heaving in a slow and steady pace, and leaving him in silence. He doesn't worry himself just yet, however—after all, why would he?—knowing well he could call upon a certain someone for a little favor if he really needed to.
And so, he looks around the small tent, taking note of the sparse decor and the mere two piles of crates that Agrios has decided to sniff and inspect. Curious, he gets up and opens the top crate, seeing some clothes, blankets, and other trinkets along with a piece of paper.
Take care of yourself.
Another piece of the puzzle lays itself before him, and he doesn't like it one bit. He places it back in and sets the first crate down to gain access to the second one. Were these all that was left for her?
The next crate, as it turns out, were some rations good enough for a week or so. This makes an idea pop in his head, realizing that the young woman will most likely wake up hungry. He smiles softly at Agrios who has taken place near the makeshift bed. “Come on," he ushers the large cat to leave the unconscious woman alone. "Why don't we play chef, hm?”
The moment you came to, you were made aware of the ache in your head, along with the way your eyes could barely open when you will yourself to. All too suddenly, the lack of warmth by your side gives you flashes of what took place, but, for a moment, you think it to be a dream.
Some sort of commotion reaches you as you gain more hold of your consciousness. Incomprehensible mumbling turned into faint bits of a conversation.
"—ow could you be so cruel to me? I raised you!"
You could see a faint form of two shapes outside your tent, and yet the ruckus only seems to come from one voice.
"Don't you dare use that attitude on me, you little brat."
Getting up was a feat in and of itself, your muscles ached as you put all of your strength into just sitting up alone. Biting back a grunt, you do your best to crawl toward the opening—
"AHHHH!"
The scream that ripples from your mouth hurt your throat, but you could hardly think. In fact, you could hardly move.
A beast peers it's spotted head through the opening of the tent, large golden eyes boring a hole through you in alarm as if you, too, had shocked him. You could only stare back, paralyzed in fear with tears stinging your eyes.
"What happened?!"
All of a sudden, the tent opens further, moved by a man who reveals himself to you, not at all alarmed by the beast, but alarmed by you.
A moment of silence passes and it soon comes to you that this man seems to be the same stranger dangling from the tree last night. You crawl away from the tent opening—away from them. "Who are you?" you sneer, "and what is that?"
The man, himself, seems to snap out of his own stupor at the realization that you were talking to him. He scoots himself inside a little, not too close to you, but within the tent nonetheless. "I'm…" he pauses, "Hoseok, and he is my companion, Agrios."
Companion? That beast is his companion?
Another thing from his response soon also confuses you. Oddly enough, he didn’t answer your question readily—as if he had to think of it. "You don't seem certain of your name, sir," you raised your brow at him, defenses still up against the stranger and his companion.
Not at all bothered by the harsh edge of your words, however, he chuckles at the slip up you had pointed out to him. "I'm Hoseok," he repeats with more conviction, but the seriousness your glare bore didn’t impede his lollygagging. "Now," he instead pipes, turning around for a moment—only to reveal a bowl of fruits. "Are you hungry?"
You may have had no intention answering his invitation, but your stomach answers for you—a shamelessly loud grumble that renders your cheeks ablaze in embarrassment. The stranger laughs, but doesn’t tease further, only taking your hand to place the bowl in its care. “Feel free to nibble,” he urges you, “if you want more, you need only to ask. I caught some fish and roasted them outside.”
His excitement and openness truly takes you aback. Does this Hoseok not have suspicions against a stranger like yourself?
You raise the bowl back to him. “No ne—”
Your words fall short, slain by a gasp at the sight of your hands and arms—clean and free of the gashes you could've sworn marred your skin just hours ago. What’s left of them were faint red lines that tingled if you look or think about them too much. "My wounds…" you stammer, as you gawk at them in disbelief. "H-how?"
Hoseok doesn’t at all bother to take the bowl of fruits from you. "I know of a good healer," he simply tells you, getting up but sweeping the tent entrance open and tying them to the side so that your eyes could catch a glimpse of the little bonfire he had brought back to life from the previous night. Fortunately, his companion also follows him outside.
Though hesitant, you shakily push yourself up, cautiously crawling over to stop by the entrance. "Wounds don't heal in an instant," you call out to him, "for how long have I been unconscious?"
The stranger crouches by the bonfire, eyeing the fishes he had over the fire. "For about an hour or so now, and, as I have said," he turns to flash you a grin and a wink. "I know a really good healer."
In spite of your doubt, something else pulls you away from the situation as your stomach begins to churn at the sight of the fish cooking and make you salivate. Tempted, you were, you relent to a grape from the bowl he had given you. Some juice dribbles down your lips, but it quenches some of your hunger and thirst.
Looking back up, you see him and the spotted beast patiently waiting for you by the fire. Hoseok grabs one of the cooked fish skewered with a stick, offering it to you in case you prefer the distance from them.
Eyes flitting from the smoking fish and him, you hold yourself back for yet another question. "What exactly are your intentions with me?"
“None,” he assures you with a shrug, looking around the beach. “I was simply strolling through and saw you,” he then says, “thought you might need the help.”
I didn't need help. Stubborn, you were, but still, you eye the fish that was roasting over the fire.
The stranger seems to take note of this. “There’s nothing funny with it,” he then assures you, chuckling a little as he nods to his companion, who was now chewing on something. “You can eat over there, if you’d like.”
Finally, you idly take hold of the stick—you swear, your stomach let out a cry of relief. “Thank you,” your manners compel you to timidly tell him this as you take a bite out of the fish’s flesh.
Hoseok smiles warmly, the sight and feeling of it making your heart clench. “You’re welcome.”
For the hour that followed, Hoseok and Agrios stayed with you as they ate, and as some subtle form of gratitude, you let them. You kept your distance, stayed by that little tent of yours as Hoseok tells you of the towns he knew around the island and the general path towards them.
Whether he knew your tragic case of abandonment or not, he makes no mention nor pry of it, and you don't tell him of your wanted status either. It would be best to stay away from strangers.
And so, well into the afternoon, you usher them away after falsely promising to remember his guidance, the man and the beast disappearing into the forest with no more than themselves with them. (The fishes he caught but didn't cook, he gave to you for dinner, and this notion guilts you inside for being so cold to them all along.)
Here you were, once again left alone by the sea.
By this point, you have gained some strength—enough to leave the shell that is your tent to finally gaze at the waves you've been hearing ever since you woke. The golden sun sits amidst a sky of oranges and pinks, its light sending the sea glittering as it's readying to leave its throne for the nightfall.
It was a taunting sight—beautiful, but taunting.
Yet, a voice in your head murmurs a treacherous thought to soil the fragile peace you were in.
Have they reached Athens by now?
Your lip trembles but you trample it beneath your teeth, hoping to kill the incoming tears. It's successful—to some degree. Though the pain in your heart hasn't at all gone away, the streams that ran down your cheeks were not as fierce as before.
In the silence, you were left to wonder what had transpired in the hours you were unconscious. You have reason in you to believe the key that had led Theseus to leave you were his people—they were, after all, the very reason he had snuck into Crete in the first place.
Had they convinced Theseus to leave you?
Had he been tricked by them in some way?
Or, had he no problem agreeing with them at all?
Your heart shatters at the thought of the latter, but your mind soon drifts to what Andreas had said in the woods.
You let us suffer for years…
There’s reason and right in his anger—in their anger—this you knew well. They do not owe you forgiveness nor forgetfulness for the cowardice you’ve done to them in the years before.
If you had been a braver person against your father’s harsh reign, would they have found you befitting to take the place next to their hero?
If you had tried a little harder to be of help during the travel, would they have had a change of heart and taken you with them?
If you had—
Nonsense, there’s nothing you can do about the could-have-beens. You've already betrayed your people. You've already left. You've already messed up.
At the end of the day, the bitter truth now is that you’ve been stranded here—already alone and away from Crete and Athens all the same. Mayhaps, that is why you’ve been left like this—your salvation and your price to pay, your escape from Crete and banishment from Athens altogether.
You will belong nowhere else.
With not much left to do nor care for the view, you crawl your way back into the tent where it's a little more quiet. The immediate thought of sleep comes to you as your eyes land on the makeshift cushions, and the same thought as before crosses your mind.
Sleep. Let’s sleep.
It was then your train of thought stops. An animal pelt cloak—one from a dark grey wolf, you think—had been near the bedding, something you vaguely remember taking off of you when you woke earlier. Theseus doesn't have one—you would know—which can only mean that it was another token left by that stranger earlier.
A part of you is irked to be left with this, as it's a reminder of yet another man who entered your life unannounced. Such things aside, you were reasonably grateful too, as it's something you can make use of.
Enough thinking, another part of you insists, reminding you of what you had thought to do in the first place. Sleep.
A sigh leaves you as you lay yourself down, and with no other warmth to encase you, you relent in reaching for the cloak, curling within its hold and fluttering your eyes closed.
A sense of unease blossoms within you, forcing you away from the realm of Morpheus. It's dark, even after you awoke from the abyss of your slumber. It must be nighttime already then. Have you slept for that long?
Another thing registers in your head as you regain more of your consciousness. You become aware of the damp walls of the tent and bedding, of the chill in the air, of the sound of rain.
What on Earth—
The row rumble from the sky sounds like that of a beast, freezing you in an instant with the wolf pelt tightly clutched in your hold. A bright strike of lightning across the sky faintly illuminates the tent, squeezing a screech from your lips at the deafening thunder that follows it.
You could tell that the rain has no plans of surrendering any time soon. The waves themselves are getting angrier by the minute, crashing against the shore and rocks as if to give them a beating.
Zeus and Poseidon must be furious.
A curse leaves your lips as you see more of the rain soaking the tent, droplets already forming to come down at you. The howling winds aren't showing much kindness either. You don't know for much longer your tent can hold. At this rate, you'll be drenched, too.
Gathering your bearings, you sit up and push aside the discomfort of being in slightly damp clothes, and heave the cloak over your head. You give yourself a moment to think of where to get yourself a better shelter from the storm.
The forest might do well to aid you, but it'll also house other creatures—some of which may have the capabilities to kill someone as defenseless as you. Perhaps, you can find a large, pointed stick to us—
"Hey!"
You jolt as you hear a voice outside. Is that…?
The tent flaps pry open under someone's urgent grip, and you see the person you had suspected it to be. As he tries to catch his breath, Hoseok looks you over with a dismayed shake of his head. "I knew you'd still be here."
You look at him with your mouth agape. “What brings you here?” you question over the downpour, brows furrowing together.
The man adjusts an umbrella over his head, promptly leaving your query unanswered. “Come along,” he instead tuts as he urges you out of the tent. "This is no place to be in the middle of a storm."
The tent shakes as yet another thunder booms across the sky, causing the two of you to flinch. “Now,” he says, “will you be stubborn or will you let me help you?"
The umbrella he's carrying struggles against the wind, what with it being made from only wood and leaves. The gentle curls of his black hair cling onto his forehead, forcing him to swipe them back. "I think it’s a great time to accept, hm?” he says, an uneasy chuckle forced past his lips as he tries to secure a better grip on the umbrella.
With a deep intake of air, you push yourself up and come out of the tent. This brings a smile to his face, one that you choose to ignore. “Fantastic,” he muses, as you duck beneath the struggling shade of his umbrella. "Nothing else?"
"None," you curtly tell him. I have nothing left.
The stranger was caught off guard for a moment, but he soon nods and gestures to the dark forest ahead. "Come," he says, "I know a place."
Although the trees keep most of the howling winds at bay, the mud cakes the ends of the worn dress you were wearing, turning the faint pink an ugly brown. The rough ground makes you walk carefully too, lest you step on anything that can make your bare feet hurt any more than it already is. The darkness of the forest terrifies you, and a part of you urges you to cling onto the stranger lest you get lost in the midst of the storm on your own.
Doubt, however, gnaws away at you at the same time, making you keep a little of your distance. You steal glances in between calculating your steps and following his lead. Can I truly trust this man?
The possibility of his betrayal makes you spiral into multiple other possibilities. If he dares to do anything, then I can shove him or hit him with something, and make a run for it.
As this plan for a what-if forms in your head, Hoseok takes note of your wariness—of how you cocooned yourself within his old wolf cloak, of how you gingerly inched away from him, and of how guarded your face is even as you were occupied with your thoughts. Understandable, he thinks, but it won't do her well to be sick because of the rain.
Leaning the umbrella over to your side, he once again thinks of the quickest path to a shelter he knows of. It’s around here somewhere.
Still, that won't seem to make the journey any less difficult. The rain was stubborn—as stubborn and proud as a man he knows—the thunder bellowing every once in a while to scare the daylights out of you. Though the forest was easier to navigate for the likes of him, it definitely doesn’t make it any less pleasant to tread through. He, himself, feels unpleasant walking through the forest in a state like this.
A surprise, however, soon comes to the young man. It appears that, at some point, you have noticed the position of the umbrella, and your conscience couldn't seem to take the unfairness for his side, because you had let your bodies huddle a little closer. Your hand even lightly holds onto his tunic as you look elsewhere.
Hoseok hides a smile at all of this. How sweet of her to care.
It was fortunate for the both of you that it didn't take too long for you to have reached your destination—just as the umbrella was about to give up, too. He steps under the stone roofing, arm gesturing with a welcome. "Here we are," he sings, tossing the umbrella aside and wringing out the rainwater from his clothes.
You gawk at the structure of the building as you step under its shade, the frown and furrow between your brows deepening. It was dark—especially with much of the moon obscured by heavy rain clouds—but you could make some sense of your surroundings. “This is a shrine,” you tell him, matter-of-factly, staying put where you were.
Hoseok stifles a chuckle. “And?”
A frantic trace of panic besets your face at his lack of concern. “We may offend the deity that reigns over this place,” you scold him, crossing your arms across your chest.
This refusal comes across as puzzling for him. He supposed all mortals are devoted in some sense of respect and fear for the gods, but you were walking too carefully on eggshells—driven mostly in fear. Have you or your family offended a god before?
Hoseok doesn't linger on the thought any longer, giving you an assuring smile instead. “It’ll be alright,” he tells you, “Trust me.”
It’s my shrine after all.
Still, doubt mars your expression, your mind being too stubborn to give in to his assurances. "We mean no disrespect here, after all," he attempts to reason, "just shelter from the storm, yes?"
You give it a few seconds, eventually nodding timidly. "Right," you say, almost as if you were still trying to convince yourself that this won't incur divine wrath. You shed the cloak from your shoulders as you take your first steps to follow him into the shrine.
Inside, a few torches persevered, showing a myriad of offerings laid out on an altar. Something else, however, draws Hoseok's attention elsewhere. Prayers and offerings to gods in a shrine were obvious, of course, but one of those in the altar held a prayer stronger than the others.
The young god turned his focus into hearing whatever words were left by whoever made them. Multiple voices echo through his head…
Lord Dionysus, we thank you and this island for becoming a brief respite for our weary travels. As told, to you, we leave a maiden of fair beauty and heart. May she make wonderful company.
His eyes widened, coming to a stop. A maiden? Who—
“Are you a follower?” you ask him out of the blue, having noted his ease in navigating through the premises. “Whose shrine is this?”
Hoseok, knocked out of his stupor, was startled for a moment, looking back at you as you continued to take in your environment. Nonetheless, once he gets a hold of himself, he doesn't answer the first of your questions, simply the "who" of it. “Dionysus,” he tells you, watching as a hint of recognition sparks in your eyes.
“The wine god?”
Hearing this, something warm flutters within his chest. Recognition feels quite nice, he thinks, as he doesn't hold back the grin that comes to his lips. “You know of him,” he muses, quite pleased. “Not many do.”
Hoseok hasn't been here in a while, as he isn't one to be too zealous in his duties in the first place, but this shrine is one of the first ever built for him by his followers—proof that he's made some sort of path to the pantheon. Even then, he has a long way to go. He's a wandering new god, not at all embraced by many, when they view wine, frenzy, and pleasure as things that get in the way of the philosophy and intellect that many Greeks praised.
As he takes off his own rain-sodden cloak, you tuck the fur cloak onto your arm and idly look around. “I’ve heard tales from my brothers’ teachers in passing,” you tell him, gazing at the art carved into the wall of a merry feast. “He brought wine to the world, yes?”
A part of him is tempted to swipe the wine from the offerings and chug it, but decides against it, lest it sends you in a panic over discourtesy to the gods and whatnot. “Mhm,” he instead happily hums, “a marvellous invention, isn’t it?”
My magnum opus.
Fiddling with the fabric of your dress, you purse your lips together at the thought of the wine this stranger seems to be so proud of. You’re not quite sure of how to respond to him. On one hand, you have lived to understand the perils of losing oneself to wine—how they can turn the angry, angrier and the sensible, nonsensical. On the contraire, the notion of losing yourself to wine and forgetting all else tempts you. “I haven’t tasted much of it,” you simply go on to say, “but I suppose it is.”
At this, Hoseok whips his head towards you. “You suppose?” he repeats, eyes starting to glint at the prospect of challenge. “Please do remind me to bring you all the wine in the world to taste.”
You lightly scoff at his musings. “Well it’s certainly not appropriate to do so now,” you gesture to the rain outside and the state of you both. “We’ll wake up with a fever otherwise.”
Those words take a few seconds to register in the man’s head. “Oh, right,” Hoseok quips, fiddling with his ear as he thinks to himself. I forgot about that. Humans and their fickle bodies.
Looking around his shrine for something that could be a change of clothes for you, he soon returns to you with a colorful fabric. “It's not the most fashionable," he chuckles, "but it’s the best I could find."
The gesture seems to have taken you aback. "Oh—You didn't have t—" the words were a scrambled mess on your lips, but ultimately ended with, "Thank you."
Hoseok gingerly places the fabric into your hands, his own brushing against your skin. Her hands are cold. "Most welcome," he hums thoughtfully, “I will leave you to change then, yes?”
With the chill in the air, Hoseok had deemed it good to light a small fire to bring some warmth inside for you as you change. Though raised by satyrs in the wilderness, foraging, unfortunately, truly wasn't his strongest suit—this he knew well as he had struggled to find some decent kindling for the both of you.
Eventually, he had managed to come back to the shrine with the wood, and some fruits for the two of you to nibble on. The fire was born from one of the torches still lit. It crackles before you both, very much alive since he had imbued it with his power to not perish so easily.
Between the both of you was silence, a little bit more comfortable than before—one you, surprisingly, break.
“Why did you come back for me?”
Hoseok stops chewing on a wild berry midway, brows rising for a moment when the sound of your soft voice takes him aback. “Come again?”
Deep in thought, it takes you a while to turn to him, brows furrowed with genuine confusion. “We’re strangers to one another,” you tell him, “and yet you would come for me in the midst of a storm and help me find shelter…”
You ask him the summary of all the inquiries in your head. “Why help me?”
Truthfully, Hoseok doesn’t have an answer to that himself. It had been a spontaneous feat, taking you back to your tent, but something in him told him to take it a step further—to tuck you in with his fur cloak, to fetch you something to eat, and to call upon his half-brother for a favor to tend to your wounds.
When the rain began, he had pushed back the thought of coming to check on you, telling himself that you could’ve found yourself shelter already—that you’d be fine on your own—and yet, here he was.
A shrug of his shoulders was all he could do. “I suppose…” he murmurs, mulling over his words. “You reminded me of myself, in some way or another…”
When Hoseok was born yet another bastard of Zeus, he lived most of his life in the wilderness, constantly having to flee from the wrath of Hera and other such threats to his life. Even before he had discovered his divine potential, he wasn’t quite welcomed in either Earth nor Olympus.
Lost and helpless—that’s what you two are.
“Why not help?” he simply muses in some sense of kindred.
It felt foreign for him to participate in such soft conversation. He had been so used to nonsensical, slurred discussions that lead to nowhere, or recklessly screaming to song and dance alike.
The silence that follows makes him—a god—squirm as you stare into the fire, lost somewhere in your head. You made no rebuttal against his statement, which only makes him even more antsy.
In spite of his impatience, however, he could tell you were hesitating to speak of something, and so, he lets you simmer in your thoughts just a bit more. It takes another moment of silence before you break it yet again. “I committed treason by helping someone escape with their people. I fled with them,” you confess, voice shaking, “but they all left me while I was sleeping.”
His brows knit together, envisioning the gist of the events that had taken place. Though he had spent most of yesterday in a drunken haze, he had heard the nymphs talk of a group of travellers in passing through the—
Wait a minute.
The prayer earlier rings in his head, and he soon gawks at you, who continues to gaze into the fire in solitude. You can't possibly be the maiden, right?
Well, you are of fair beauty, but no, no, no. If you were, surely you would've been left in better conditions.
Either way, Hoseok thinks betrayal is such an ugly thing that neither god nor mortal likes the notion of. He knows not what led you to commit treason, but to have forsaken your people to join others, only to have them forsake you is a terrible thing. “What a load of bastards,” he abhors, before partly jesting. “Shall we ask the gods that their ship sinks?”
A light scoff leaves your lips as you shake your head at him. Hoseok watches as you say nothing more of the tale, and he knew it well not to pry any longer.
The wine god finds it astonishing how similar yet different the two of you are. Both cast aside in some way or another, and yet the two of you walk different paths. While he ventures recklessly, you tread the same, paved path you’ve ever known, too scared to break away lest you get your heart broken again.
You should learn to let go every once in a while.
“My name is (Y/N)...” you tell him, knocking him out of his little reverie. Your voice was quiet and hesitant, but you still willed yourself to look at him properly, eyes carrying sheepish guilt. “I apologize if I was rude to you.”
Hoseok couldn’t help the smile on his face as he realized that he had earned enough of your trust to know your name. “Glad to finally put a name to a face,” he muses, “and, rest assured, I hadn’t taken any offense, at all.”
A soft, grateful smile blooms on your lips, illuminated beautifully by the golden glow of the fire. This hint of happiness instantly makes Hoseok wonder what pure bliss would look like for you. He hardly holds back his mischief, as he tilts his head with a teasing grin.
“Does this mean to say we’ve become friends?”
At this, you roll your eyes. (But you smile all the same.)
Pairing(s): Byun Baekhyun x Fem!Reader, Park Chanyeol x Fem!Reader
Genre: Angst, Drama, Fluff, Royalty!AU
Word Count: 1.2K
Warnings: Mild Language
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Once upon a time, in a far away land known as Ellesmere, there sat a palace. The palace sat tucked into a mountain side, watching over the whole kingdom from its perch. Red, black and gold covered the ceiling, walls, and tables inside the palace. Nobles and courtiers danced around the ballroom as beautiful music mingled with their laughter and talking, creating a harmony you could only wish to hear. Whispers flew through their ears of bets on who the Prince, whom the ball was being held for, would choose as his bride, his future queen.
The doors to the ballroom swung open and two of the contending ladies stepped through. One of noble breeding, the other from a humble background. They made their way down the steps, arms interlocked as the music swirled around them. One turned to the other, a rueful smile on her face as she took in her competitor, her friend’s, appearance.
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♔ pairing: professor!byun baekhyun x f!professor!reader
♔ genre: fluff
♔ word count: 2.7k
♔ warnings: none
♔ synopsis: the students of sm university have their attention on the popular history professor and his secretive lifestyle. student beomgyu finds a person who may hold the answers on everyone's minds.
♔ (a/n): happy birthday, @biaswreckingfics! can't believe this is my second year writing you a bday fanfic! im so happy to call you my friend! I tried making this a drabble to show my growth to you, but failed miserably. I hope you enjoy it nevertheless!
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Byun Baekhyun was an enigma.
A history professor with an impressive academic history to coincide with his doctorate. Young, handsome, intelligent. Though also a gifted professor, delving into each and every subject of his with such unadulterated enthusiasm of his own that his students couldn't help but feel just as invested themselves.
He was hyper, dashing across his lecture hall, hands raised in the air, so entirely devoted to his craft. His teachings were practically performances as he embodied the era he spoke of. He was a professor many would yearn to have, someone who was incapable of ever losing the attention of his students. He held to the firm belief of not taking life seriously, lest you not make it out alive, and he stood there as a triumphant example of what splendor life could offer if you merely enjoyed it.
All of these characteristics that had made him so utterly popular, yet the student body knew little to nothing about the man. Because although he was the human personification of a puppy with his bright eyed wonderment and neverending infectious joy, he was extremely reclusive. Everything about his life was kept to himself, to the point that there were more speculated rumors about the man than actual truths.
So far what was known of Baekhyun was his age, his degree, his dissertation, and his internal battle with his cat. The man was an undeniable dog person, and often accepted late work from students if they even so much as sent him a blurry photo of a dog, let alone bring the actual dog into class for him to dote upon whilst he taught. He'd come into the lecture hall at times, a scratch or two on his arm from where his cat had bitten him, though the ongoing battle between his feline and himself was a series that many found themselves subscribing to with gusto.
There was no discernible moment in time that the tides seemed to shift, but the populous had unanimously and without debate began pestering the man for more information about his life.
It had begun as simple questions, merely asking what he'd eaten that day, what his cat looked like, even where he got his sweater from at some point. At times, he'd give a wry answer, barely even acknowledging whoever asked such a minuscule question in the first place. Occasionally he'd stay quiet, or perhaps even reflect the question back to the student in his usual comedic manner.
Though the questions soon escalated.
Do you have a social media?
"Do you not see enough of me at school already?"
Are you allergic to any foods?
"I don't trust anyone with that type of knowledge."
What's your mother's maiden name?
"Isn't that a security question?"
One day, one of those personal questions had garnered an intriguing response from the man.
"Are you dating anyone?"
A subtle smirk crossed his face for the briefest of moments, followed with an amused puff of air expelled from his nose as he remained where he sat, typing at his computer while his class wrapped up for the day. This insighted much enthusiasm from the masses, everyone gasping and talking over one another ecstatically at the newfound information.
"Mr. Byun, you never told us you were dating someone!"
"Who are they?"
"How long have you been together?"
"Enough, enough," Baekhyun waved off the curious undergrads, rolling his eyes with a smile. "I'm not dating anyone. Now go to your next class, I'm in office hours mode from this point on."
"Does that mean we can stay and ask more questions?"
"History related."
Although they had all vacated the classroom, the events hadn't left the minds of some students, one specifically being Choi Beomgyu, an English major who was on his way to his TA class. Professor Byun was someone he had grown to highly respect, with his kind and funny nature, willing to help his students no matter the assignment. Although the class was a requirement for him, Beomgyu found himself enjoying it far too much, to the extent that he was even deliberating minoring in history alone.
Though he knew Baekhyun was a rarity of a professor, and walking into his English class served as a reminder of that fact as he looked towards his English professor.
Professor (l/n) was the personification of the stereotypical English professor, or at least the ones commonly depicted in media. Oversized knitted cardigans with loose stitchings, hair tied back and away from her face in a messy and carefree manner, a tired scowl resting on her face as her eyes roved over endless stacks of papers, darkness lingering beneath her gaze as a consequence to her exhaustion.
Beomgyu sat beside her desk, waiting patiently for her to glance over at him, though by the looks of it, she was far too preoccupied with grading to even acknowledge his presence. Though he was used to this by now, often greeted by her well after he'd arrive. It also granted him some more time to stew over Professor Byun before he'd have to delve into grading.
Although it was expected, he hadn't really expected Baekhyun to actually be dating someone. It had him considering who could possibly handle someone like him. Was the man as energetic at home as he was in the classroom? Was it someone interested in history as well? Could it even be a professor at the university? Perhaps someone even in the humanities department like him?
"Professor (l/n)?" He spoke breaking the silence and causing her to shoot her head up in surprise, sighing upon just seeing her TA.
"Good morning, Beomgyu, how are you holding up today?"
"It's… Well into the afternoon." He laughed as she reached for her phone, humming in understanding at his words as she verified the time of day. "My day has been okay. I just had Professor Byun's class, so I'm kind of tired."
"Makes sense." She responded, this intrinsic understanding tone laced in her voice as she returned to her grading pile, marking things as she read through them. "You can take a few more minutes to yourself."
"Do you know Professor Byun?" Beomgyu asked absentmindedly, not expecting much else other than a mere shrug or an uncommitted confirmation, though instead she nodded to him, not turning away from her work for even a moment. "Well, I mean, do you like… know him, know him. More than just a work colleague."
Another nod.
This stunned Beomgyu, not really expecting someone as cloistered as Professor (l/n) to have acquainted herself with someone as sociable and outgoing as Professor Byun. Though at the same time, it wasn't so far-fetched. The two are just a few doors away from each other, both housed under the humanities department. Perhaps she just tolerated him, because Professor (l/n) was not someone who accepted tomfoolery in class, rather strict when it came down to someone disturbing her class with laughter or audio from their phones. It didn't seem like they'd be necessarily close when taking their countenances into consideration.
"I'm assuming if I ask you questions about his life, you wouldn't really say much?"
"Not without his explicit permission, no." She confirmed with a huff, backing away to take another sip of her (likely cold) coffee.
"Do you need me to get you a refill from the backroom?"
Glancing down at her cup and then to her TA, she shook her head.
"It's fine. I'll get some in a few minutes." Beomgyu reached for one of the essay piles, pen in hand ready to grade alongside her, unaware of the curious gaze now directed towards him. "What's with the sudden intrigue in Professor Byun?"
"Not really sudden." Beomgyu chuckled, fiddling with his writing implement while recounting his time in the general history course. "My class has been pretty annoying lately with him, trying to get him to spill as much information about his personal life as we can, but he's really reserved. Surprisingly." This earned Beomgyu a snicker from his professor, encouraging him to continue. "Today, we almost got him to spill about a potential relationship of his. We asked if he was dating someone and he didn't outright deny it immediately like the other questions." Beomgyu reconsidered Baekhyun's reaction—definitely intriguing and definitely suspicious. It warranted Beomgyu's otherwise peculiar intrigue in the matter, he had insisted. The natural desire of people to sate their curios no matter what. "He denied it eventually though. Said he wasn't dating anyone."
"He's not." Professor (l/n) responded, causing Beomgyu to look at her with wide eyes. She went back to her papers though, seemingly no longer interested in the conversation, but ever the determined student, he persisted.
"You know a lot about his personal life?"
"As much as he's willing to tell."
How could Beomgyu concentrate on grading when the answers to everyone's questions reside in the stoic English professor before him? Such an unexpected source of information, yet also so obvious. Someone who keeps to herself, therefore someone who won't blab about Baekhyun to others. Someone close to him, physically so in the case of their similar departments. Quiet and somber, a guaranteed good listener. Attentive and keen, given her English background and analyzing capabilities. The more Beomgyu thought about it, the more fitting it all seemed.
"Since I can't ask about Professor Byun, could I ask about you?"
She glanced over at him, eyebrow raised momentarily, though shrugging nevertheless, casting her gaze back down to her papers.
Much like history class, he started with simple surface level questions, ice breakers to warm her up to his interrogation.
"When did you graduate?"
"Few years ago."
"What did you last eat?"
"A blueberry muffin."
"What do you do in your free time?"
"Read."
And again, much like Professor Byun's class, his questions gradually escalated.
"When was the last time you lied?"
"I don't remember."
"Was that a lie?"
"Probably not."
"Have you lied any time throughout our talk?"
"Not really."
Though it was one question that struck a chord in Beomgyu, causing him to narrow his eyes at his professor upon her answer.
"Are you a dog person or cat person?"
"Cat person." She answered immediately, shaking her head at the mere prospect of the former option. "Dogs are very active and loving, and it's just something I'm not necessarily comfortable with. So I have a cat back at home."
"What's this cat like?"
"Hmm… She loves me… That's the most I can say about that." She laughed to herself, and unbeknownst to her, her student sat there putting pieces together. Pieces he hadn't even considered to even go together in the first place.
"Do you have a social media?"
"Yes."
"Are you allergic to any foods?"
"Some."
"What's your mother's maiden name?"
"No comment."
Suddenly, with the similarly ambiguous answers swirling in his thoughts, his eyes strayed down to her hands, busy scribbling feedback into papers, still far too preoccupied with her grading to notice his suspicions.
"Are you dating someone?"
"No." The answer came smoothly, no hesitance or deliberation in her voice. And when she spoke her answer, he saw her hand twitch. Her hand tucked away in the long sleeves of her sweater. Beomgyu had to bite back a smile as his next words arose in his head.
"Are you married?" She paused writing, a sly smile of her own sprouting forth as she turned to face the young boy. Her eyes narrowed much like his own investigative gaze, but she nevertheless accepted his inquiry.
"So you've discovered the loophole." She stated, lifting her left hand and letting the sleeve slide down, revealing her fingers, one of which held a diamond ring, glistening under the fluorescent lights of the classroom. His jaw dropped, staring at her in disbelief as she laughed at his reaction. His eyes darted between her face to her ring, silenced at the sudden turn of events in their little game.
And the questions seemed endless at this point, buzzing in his head and begging to be asked. How long have you been married? Why are you hiding it? Who exactly are you hiding it with? But instead, his mind opted for two alternative questions.
"Your maiden name?"
"(l/n)."
"Your current legal surname?"
"Byun."
Beomgyu hadn't even a moment to stir in his unabashed shock, because as if on cue, the doors of the classroom burst open, and in marched Professor Byun in all of his enthusiastic glory, a coffee tray and a paper bag in hand as he smiled at the woman seated at her desk.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Byun," Baekhyun placed the food items on the stack of papers she had been engrossed in, coercing an indifferent scowl from her while he unpacked the brown bag.
"That's Professor (l/n) to you." Beomgyu watched with bated breath as Baekhyun tongued the inside of his cheek cockily, leaning forward onto her desk in as suave a manner as he could muster.
"That's not what you were saying last night."
She stared at him for another second, her eye momentarily twitching in her futile attempts to keep to her somber expression, though eventually her facade slipped away from her, the English professor lowering her head in defeat as she laughed at his response.
"What's that even supposed to insinuate?" She asked between giggles, hand raising to cover her mouth. Baekhyun shrugged, spewing out his own chuckles alongside with her.
"I don't know, but it got you to laugh, so I consider it a win for me." He rested half his weight on the end of her desk, eyes trailing over to Beomgyu who still sat there with widened eyes darting between the two. "Good afternoon to you again, Mr. Choi."
"Professor Byun," he replied, voice strained and wary, the boy wholly unaware of what to make of the situation though also struggling in his attempt to not merely combust where he sat, whether it be from surprise or excitement.
Baekhyun glanced back at his wife, who was now taking sips from her new warm coffee.
"What's up with him?" He asked her, head nodding towards her now silently TA.
"He found out who you're married to."
"Ah, I thought he already knew." Baekhyun snickered, turning back to Beomgyu with an amused smile. "I thought I was secretive, but how could you not even tell your own TA you're married?"
"It never came up." She went back to grading papers, one hand holding her pen while the other held the pastry Baekhyun brought her.
"So newfound information. You must have many questions." At Baekhyun's inquiry, Beomgyu finally relinquished his restraint, the questions that were all but culminating in his head finally spilling forth like a flood. His words slurred together as he spoke in almost a rushed manner, as if to say everything on his mind before he forgot, though with how impactful of a discovery this was, he highly doubted he'd ever forget even the most minute of details of this very moment.
Baekhyun laughed at the boy's enthusiasm, barely even taking in any of his questions, though still trying to appease him as much as he could. For the first time since Beomgyu became his student, he finally had a first seat preview of Professor Byun's personal life of mundanity, and his uneventful day to day that consisted of work, grading, and spending time with his wife and cat. An ever domestic livelihood, but if the smiles on both of their faces as he discussed their daily routines were any indicator, it was a calming, fulfilling peace. A tranquility rarely ever attained, though one that's often strove for.
(y/n) flicked Baekhyun's arm with the tip of her pen, earning a whine from the man who retracted his arm from where he leant it in front of her.
"Get out, you're distracting my grading assistant."
"But I brought you sustenance." He nudged the bag which once held her midday snack as took another meaningful bite of her pastry, nodding at his words at the end of it all.
"I guess you could stay for a few minutes more."
"I brought you sustenance, and my love."
"That's not as important as the sustenance."
Though with that warm, fond smile on Baekhyun's face, and the way she paused her incessant grading to drink the coffee he brought her while responding to his commentary and jokes, it was obvious that the love was just as, if not more, important than the sustenance.
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