#woosung fanfic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mangowillow · 23 days

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last to know | ch. 2: as always, even now

pairing: jungkook x (f) reader / kim woosung x (f) reader

summary: you and jeongguk got together at 16 years old, married at 20, and divorced at 21. what was once love ever after turned into nothing but pain and unfulfilled dreams. you keep going despite the pain in your heart that never really went away, until one day, jungkook comes back— to seoul and in your life.

general story tags: divorce au, childhood friends, angst, hurt & eventual comfort, kind of a slow burn, OC is an adopted child in this fic, a lot of flashbacks later on because context is important; and the others that a lot of people seem to dislike: a love triangle and a LOT of miscommunication. look away if this isn't your thing. tags and warnings will be updated as we go along with each chapter!

warnings: mentions of weight loss and a hospital, jeongguk has a panic attack (semi-detailed), problematic parent-child dynamics. let me know if i miss anything and please be kind!

word count: 5.3k

author's note: *peeks into the void* why hello there! let's pretend i didn't disappear off the face of the earth. earlier this year i went to see The Rose live for their dawn to dusk tour and it was so much fun! there's just a lot of things that have happened and continue to do so; please accept my sincerest apologies for being inconsistent! BUT. know that i haven't forgotten about this story. heh.

also a few more things: ♡ to put things into perspective: jeongguk, OC/reader, and woosung are all the same age; that also means they're as old as seokjin and yoongi in this fic. all the other members maintain their age. honorifics may or may not appear at times. if that bothers you, well, can't please everybody! ♡ this fic isn't beta'd nor proofread by anyone. we go rogue, always.

tags for interested readers will be open for as long as this fic is ongoing! let me know in the comments or message me, whatever fits your preference!

fic masterlist

Woosung plants a big, sloppy kiss on your cheek and giggles.

Looking at him, you ask, “What was that for?”

“Do I need a reason?” Woosung teases as he chews on his jjajangmyeon. You chuckle at his candidness and reach out to wipe the sauce that landed on the corner of his lip. The both of you resorted to sitting on the floor, surrounded by boxes, using one of them as a makeshift table to place the food.

“I’m really happy you got to come today,” you muse, enjoying Woosung’s calming presence as he delicately places a piece of chicken karaage on your noodle bowl before setting his own down. You haven’t seen him for a few days because he needed to get some new music done in preparation for his application to a recording agency as a performer and a producer. You were more than happy to support him in any way you could, including giving him his space to figure things out. It was also who Woosung was— a quiet soul who liked working in solitude.

You and Woosung are so much alike.

“Why? Did you think I’d forget?” Woosung teases, a smirk playing on his lips.

“No, I just thought… maybe you needed more time to prepare for your application. That’s important.”

Woosung gently shakes his head, ready to disagree— “Nothing will ever be as important to me as you.”

A slight pink dusted your cheeks. You didn’t expect him to be this cheesy so early in the morning so you smile and cast your eyes back down to your meal.

“... I do have news for you, babe.” Woosung starts. He turns his body to face you. Giving your hundred percent attention, you cut the noodles with your teeth and place the bowl down. Wiping your mouth with a napkin, you hum at his statement, “What is it?”

Woosung smiles and looks at you lovingly. You feel a bit self-conscious every time he stares at you so intensely and like clockwork, you feel your cheeks heat up.

“I got the job, sweetheart.”

Hearing the news leave his lips leaves you surprised— your hands fly to your mouth and your eyes start to water. “R-really?” Woosung nods and chuckles through his own teary eyes, you throw yourself at him to give him a tight hug. “Woosung, oh my god— this is— “ you hold him by the shoulders, explore every inch of his face, elation in both of your hearts— “this is great, oh gosh I am so happy for you,” you hug him again.

You feel Woosung’s body relax instantly in your hold; it has been a journey, walking with Woosung through his own painful moments struggling with his art and passion. Two years ago, he came to Seoul desperately needing a break from life and music after many unsuccessful attempts to make it into the music industry back home in the United States. Although he and his bandmates have put out several songs in the past, they never really gained as much traction with an audience as they had hoped. Going back home to his roots in South Korea also meant leaving his bandmates behind— they have been nothing but supportive of him and his time as they also needed to re-assess their own lives and figure out what they truly wanted.

Two years ago, Woosung also met you. Both your lives changed ever since.

“Thank you for all your support, ____… you know I wouldn’t have been able to get through all this if it weren’t for you.” Woosung whispers, tightening his hold on your waist. You feel this, you feel everything when it comes to him— so you wrap your arms tighter around him, too. “This is all you, babe. This is all your hard work.”

You both stay that way for a while. Unspoken words are left hanging, as well. You both know well what might become of all this as you always try to communicate. You believe it is what has sustained your relationship for so long.

Both of you know that Woosung will always belong to music— it’s his dream and the reason why he took so many risks along the way. It was only a matter of when. The possibilities have always been there— should there be a moment where Woosung would return to his career, to his band, to becoming a global star. The fears that come along with those possibilities were also ever-present: what you and Woosung’s future would look like.

All of these thoughts come rushing to the both of you, but neither of you said anything.

For now, the both of you are happy. And that is enough.

When you parted from each other, you pushed away some of the hair that fell over Woosung’s eyes. “When do you start?”

Woosung takes a deep breath, “As soon as the higher-ups get settled in. I’ve been told they’ve recently landed in Seoul so it shouldn’t be too long now. I’ll be meeting with the owners and one of them is the lead producer. I heard he was a genius, but also a bit scary. They’ve also given me a signing bonus and a potential collaboration with him… that was new… he said they liked my work so much…”

“Wow, that… that sounds so exciting, baby. How are you feeling about all of this?”

“I’m nervous, for the most part,” Woosung murmurs, readjusting the collar of his shirt. It’s been a while since I talked to someone else about music professionally and… this company— I’ve heard so many wonderful things about it. For one, it was built by musicians, too. So I’m hoping they’re not just doing all of it for the business.”

You smile warmly at Woosung and hold his hands. “You’re going to do great, you know that, right?”

Woosung draws in a breath and nods before meeting your eyes.

That night, Woosung couldn’t sleep. He watches over you as you dream and when a strand of your hair falls on your face after moving a bit, he tucks it behind your ear. His fingers lightly dance while grazing the side of your face. Woosung sighs as a feeling of anxiety starts to creep into his heart. He loves change, but he cannot help but feel somewhat scared about it anyway. He gets so lost in his thoughts about you that he doesn’t notice you wake up.

“Baby, hey… you’re still awake.”

Your voice brings Woosung back to the present. Seeing your sleepy eyes under the sliver of moonlight that passes through your window makes his heart do a mini somersault— it always does.

“Hmm… I couldn’t sleep,” Woosung says. You scoot closer to him, his arm going under your shoulders to support your body in an embrace.

“Tell me what’s on your mind,” you whisper, eyes closed, inhaling his scent— him.

“Just… things. I’m not sure how to articulate them yet…”

You hum, “Then I’ll just stay like this with you to keep you warm… warmth helps you sleep, right?”

Woosung nods, bringing your body closer to his. “Hm… especially your warmth.” Seconds later, he feels you breathe deeper, letting him know that you’re about to let yourself succumb to sleep once more. “I love you.”

When no response came from you, Woosung closed his eyes. Then suddenly, in the stillness of the night, he feels your hand squeeze his ever so lightly.

“I love you, too.”

“Hyung, I think that’s the salt—” Jimin starts.

Seokjin snorts, stopping with the shaker in his hand mid-air, “What do you mean, Jimin-ah, I think I know the difference between salt and sugar.” He was about to potentially put salt on the croffle in front of him, leaving Jimin feeling both very nervous and distressed.

“Last time, I remember you put the sugar in a different container because a customer accidentally broke the original shaker. The color of the cap was blue, not red. This—” he pointed at the shaker Seokjin was holding, “— is obviously not blue.”

“Yah, that happened last week, but I already switched them out two days ago—” Seokjin tries to argue.

They didn’t notice Woosung enter the cafe until he spoke, “Why don’t you just taste it?”

“Oh hey, Woosung-hyung,” Jimin greets.

“Hey, Jimin. Good to see you,” Woosung replies as Jimin nods, his eyes turning into crescents as soon as he smiles.

Seokjin scoffs once more before greeting Woosung, but he relents and tastes whatever is inside the shaker. When he makes a funny face, Jimin and Woosung chuckle.

“Told ya, hyung. Tell us I saved your life.”

“I can’t believe this is salt, I knew I already switched it out—”

With possible disaster averted, Jimin doesn’t listen to Seokjin’s monologue anymore, “You’re here early today, hyung. Would you like to order the usual?”

“Actually, I am here to buy a mango parfait… ____’s fridge is crazy cold and the frozen mangoes are, well, too frozen. I might actually break the blender. I also forgot to make her usual overnight oats. We had to move a lot of things very quickly yesterday so she could have a bed to sleep on.”

“I got you, hyung. We just finished making a fresh batch of parfaits. Do you want one, too?” Jimin asks.

“Are there other flavors?”

“Blueberry and strawberry,” Seokjin adds.

“I’ll take one blueberry, then. Thanks.” Woosung gets ready to pay, but Seokjin waves him away. “It’s on the house.”

“You always give us free stuff, Seokjin—” Woosung tries to argue, but Seokjin shakes his head immediately.

“Taking care of my sister is more than enough, Woosung-ah.”

Woosung gives Seokjin a tight smile and nods. Seokjin then asks, albeit softer, “How is she doing lately?”

“She’s doing better,” Woosung reassures. “She has been painting more recently; not just because of her job at the university, but also at home. We’re going to set up her studio today so it should be fun.”

“That’s good to hear, right hyung?” Jimin turns to Seokjin, who nods. Jimin hands Woosung a paper bag with the parfaits. “I put some new desserts we’re experimenting with. Please give them a try.”

Woosung peeks at the paper bag and sees croissants and greenish muffins, presumably matcha-flavored. “Oh wow, thank you Jimin… I won’t take up too much of your time, guys. ____ is still sleeping and I need to clean up the mango disaster I left on her kitchen counter before she wakes up.”

Seokjin chuckles, “You really came all the way here for parfaits when you could have bought these anywhere near ____’s apartment.”

“Ah, but nothing beats your parfaits, Seokjin. A wise man once told me that,” Woosung smiles. He and Seokjin instantly formed a bond the moment they met two years ago, much to your relief. You’ve always been nervous to tell your brother anything remotely new about your love life— and you understand where he is coming from.

“Well whoever that wise man is must be pretty smart,” Seokjin replies. His eyes soften right afterward. “Go. Let’s have a drink sometime, yeah?”

“Sure thing,” Woosung waves goodbye to Seokjin and Jimin.

Jeongguk walks the hallway of the recording studio, still groggy from sleep. Hands in his pockets, he stood outside Yoongi’s door, staring at his peculiar mat: a cat with its middle finger raised, the words ‘fuck off’ glaring at him. Figures, he thought. A doormat won’t stop him from ringing Yoongi’s doorbell, though.

“Who is it?” he hears Yoongi call out.

“It’s your favorite person in the whole wide world,” Jeongguk says, sarcasm lacing his voice. He pinched the bridge of his nose; a habit he developed in college whenever he felt the exhaustion seep out of him. He hears scuffling from the other side of the door until the sound of the door’s automatic lock rings. Jeongguk sees Yoongi clad in a plaid shirt, ripped jeans, and a gray beanie— his signature style.

“Dumbass,” Yoongi mutters under his breath before turning his back to return to his equipment. “Good morning to you too,” Jeongguk teases as he closes the door behind him.

“How are you already set up? It’s barely a day since we arrived!”

Yoongi chooses not to respond.

“You’re kidding me, right?” Jeongguk asks in disbelief. “Please tell me you at least went home to get your shit sorted? Or maybe sleep like normal human beings do?”

“I did… for a brief moment, maybe?” Yoongi starts.

Jeongguk shakes his head, “You have to stop spreading yourself thin, Yoongi. It’ll be the death of you.”

Yoongi fiddles with a few knobs on the synthesizer before muttering, “That doesn’t seem so bad— spreading myself too thin, that is.”

Jeongguk throws his hands up in surrender and rolls his eyes.

“Have I succeeded in frustrating you to hell and back, yet?” Yoongi smirks while continuing to flit his eyes through the numerous screens in front of him.

Jeongguk was about to say something but then the door alarm clicked. Kim Namjoon’s head peeks out from behind the door.

“I came to say my welcome remarks,” Namjoon says as he lets himself in. Jeongguk’s mouth falls open because he couldn’t believe Namjoon could just easily waltz in without any resistance. What’s even more astounding was that he knew Yoongi’s passcode— while he, on the other hand, had to ring the fucking doorbell.

“Oh, great. So your boyfriend knows your passcode and I don’t?” Jeongguk asks.

“He isn’t my boyfriend,” Yoongi states, matter-of-factly. Jeongguk couldn’t help but glance at Namjoon’s way, who seemed unfazed.

“Right, and I’m Neil Armstrong,” Jeongguk plops down on the couch.

“You’re the CEO, Jeongguk, of course, you should know the passcode… right, Yoongi?” says Namjoon, ever the oblivious one.

Yoongi continues to do work on his computer, his fingers deftly flying across his keyboard, “Don’t encourage him, Namjoon.”

Namjoon looks back at Jeongguk who has now taken an interest in the plant beside the couch. When they met each other’s eyes, Namjoon just shrugged, his dimples showing.

“How was your flight, you guys? I hope everything was easy peasy.”

“Easy peasy lemon squeezy,” Jeongguk responds. “Not sure about Yoongi here though. He looked like he was about to puke.”

“Shut up,�� Yoongi retaliates.

“I can’t imagine the both of you tolerating each other while in another country. It’s a miracle this production company is still standing upright,” Namjoon says chuckling.

Namjoon met Jeongguk first in university while they studied in New York. Although Jeongguk was a business student and Namjoon double majored in music theory and composition, they ran into each other at a frat party-— with Jeongguk being drunk off his ass. He was about to fall into the pool full of piss (which the other frat members thought was funny) when Namjoon saved him in the nick of time.

Apart from Yoongi, Namjoon also served as Jeongguk’s confidant, especially after things went south between you and Jeongguk. When the dust settled and Jeongguk was sober enough to realize the gravity of his mistakes, Namjoon helped Yoongi pick up the pieces of Jeongguk’s brokenness. As with time passing by, Namjoon and Yoongi started to develop into something more, too. Much to Jeongguk’s delight and envy.

However, neither Yoongi nor Namjoon has admitted their feelings to the other. And truth be told, Jeongguk is sick of them dancing around each other.

But he also knows it’s none of his business.

“Hey, Jeongguk, is that family dinner of yours still happening tonight?” Yoongi decides to ask. Also probably to change the subject.

Jeongguk lets out a deep sigh. “Yes, it is.”

“Ouch. Will you be alright?” Namjoon asks out of genuine concern.

“I don’t really have a choice.”

“You always have a choice, Jeongguk-ah,” Yoongi inserts. “You just need to work on making the right ones.”

Jeongguk slacks his jaw and runs his tongue across his lip ring. He doesn’t really have an answer to that.

Because once again, Yoongi was right. Not just about the damn family dinner; Jeongguk also knows his best friend’s words run deeper and imply a whole lot more than just feeling forced to sit down with his parents over steak and champagne.

“See you on the other side, then,” Namjoon says as he pats Jeongguk on the shoulder before leaving the room.

Jeongguk mulled over bringing flowers to the family dinner but decided against it.

He knows that the house would be filled with them, anyway. And his efforts won’t matter, either.

As he got out of his car, a chauffeur was already by his side ready to take his keys for him. When the car drove off, Jeongguk took a moment to look at the house he hadn’t lived in for years. It feels odd to come home; it feels even odder to feel numb about all of it.

It took Jeongguk a few seconds to ring the doorbell; for god’s sake, it was his house too, he thought. Ringing the doorbell meant he was a stranger— which he felt was appropriate.

He was greeted by a new housekeeper. He gave her a nod before stepping inside. Almost instantly, his mother appeared at the top of the staircase. They look at one another for a moment, before his mother breaks the silence.

“You finally decide to show yourself.”

Jeongguk doesn’t move. Doesn’t respond, either. He was prepared for a stare-off match with his mother, but that was until his father showed up from the kitchen. With a dish towel in hand, Jeongguk’s father smiled at him as he placed a hand on his son’s shoulder.

“It’s so good to see you, son.”

Jeongguk, once more, doesn’t have it in him to respond.

At the dinner table, the silence was so loud, that Jeongguk thought it could break glass.

“Did you settle in fine, Jeongguk?” his father asks.

“Yes, father, I did.”

“You should have chosen a place that was nearer to us, Jeongguk,” his mother chides.

“Honey…” Jeongguk’s father tries to put out a fire that is about to ignite. Jeongguk, on the other hand, was so tired from the flight and emotionally, that he felt a need to retaliate.

Because why not? Whether he speaks up or not wasn’t really up to him. Between him and his mother, he has nothing to lose.

“I don’t know, mother, I chose that place because I wanted to get away from here as much as possible.” Jeongguk remarks. He knows he hit a nerve because his mother downed her champagne rather than respond.

“How is the company going, son? Everything doing alright?” his father asks, trying to mitigate a conflict that neither of them could recover from.

“I guess. Yoongi and I haven’t managed to burn anything so that’s nice,” Jeongguk eats a spoonful of mashed potato. He knows he really needs to shut up and regulate his emotions, but he just can’t help but be sarcastic.

Once more, the silence won. However, Jeongguk’s mother is the type to not back down.

“You should think about getting married soon, Jeongguk—” she starts. Jeongguk feels himself grow cold as if on instinct.

“—and this time, we want you to marry someone your level,” she finishes. Jeongguk felt his heart twisting so painfully that he didn’t notice how tight he held on to his cutlery.

Jeongguk swallows the once-repressed pain that used to consume him whole. He knows this is futile because he never dares to face his regrets square in the face. Instead, he allows the pain to make him angry. He allows his resentment to consume him in ways he doesn’t know how to handle and in a pained effort to avoid causing further damage, he remains quiet. Unresponsive. Cold. Withdrawn.

But his own mother is even more cold-hearted than he is. She is the one who made him like this.

It’s her fault.

“You need to marry a good woman who can keep up with your social status. Remember you’re not just anyone, Jeongguk. You’re a Jeon. And you have a legacy to uphold,” his mother condescends.

Tears start to sting Jeongguk’s eyes, but he doesn’t want to let his mother win. So he keeps still.

“I have a few prospects for you, dear. We should set dates for them, don’t you think so? I chose the most refined and educated—” Jeongguk hates how his mother knows how to push his buttons and hurt him.

He knows that his mother knows his ultimate weakness.

You.

And because his mother cannot contain her insecurities and prejudice, she projects it all on her son. But most especially, you— whether you were in the room or not.

Jeongguk’s mother continues her monologue. His father miserably fails to become the referee (he always does). Heat starts to rise Jeongguk’s neck and he swears he could hear his own blood pumping through his ears. What almost immediately follows is the high-pitched ringing that only he can hear.

Jeongguk starts to feel dizzy; like he’s about to lose control.

But instead of releasing, instead of crying, instead of getting angry— he does none of them.

He finds himself standing up, his hands dragging the plate full of food to the ground. With all his might, Jeongguk tries to breathe deeply.

“That’s enough, mom.” Jeongguk croaks. A tear escapes his eye. “Please.”

Jeongguk rarely addresses her as “mom”. But in times of vulnerability and helplessness, it’s the term he ends up using.

“As I expected… you are still weak, Jeongguk.” his mother states with absolutely no remorse.

Jeongguk feels like he is about to throw up. To save himself, he drags his legs to leave the dining area. Housekeepers try to help him, but he brushes them aside. Security guards around the house up until the gate tried to support him, but Jeongguk just waved them all off.

He just needed to get away before his vision completely blurred. He needed to get out of this godforsaken house.

It was a miracle that Jeongguk got far away from the house as he had. But in doing so, he felt physically weaker and weaker. His mind isn’t done with him yet as thoughts of you start to resurface. His chest starts to tighten again. He feels cold and afraid and tired.

Jeongguk falls to his knees on the side of the road; he allows his body to go limp and fall to the ground.

He barely remembers what happened next.

When Jeongguk opens his eyes, bright, stale lights greet him.

He hears beeping, faint footsteps, a voice over an intercom.

He feels something brushing his leg so gently that it takes him a while before realizing that someone is standing over him, wiping the edge of his slacks.

Jeongguk squints his eyes to get a better look at the person touching his leg. When he tries to elevate his upper body, the person in front of him feels him moving.

Jeongguk couldn’t believe who he was seeing. His panic attack must still be happening because it was impossible.

It was you.

“Oh… hi,” you start. Jeongguk is at a loss for words so he continues to stare at you.

You immediately feel self-conscious so you start to wrangle the damp cloth you were holding.

“Are you okay? Hang on, I’ll call the nurse—”

You start to leave, but Jeongguk catches your wrist. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. You look at his hand on your wrist before Jeongguk lets go of it.

“W-what happened?”

“You’re at the hospital… um, I– I got a call from them saying you were here,” you say.

Jeongguk’s eyebrows met. He is still confused as to how or why the hospital would call you. As he looks at you, in the flesh, in front of him, the familiar ache in his chest threatens to overwhelm him again.

You look as beautiful as ever, even more so than the last time he saw you. The last time he did, you were crying to him. He did that to you. That was his fault.

“Are you hurt, anywhere, Jeongguk? I think I need to call your doctor, just give me a second—”

“No… please. I’m okay. I don’t feel any pain.” Except for my broken heart.

“Oh… okay.”

Jeongguk observes you, more particularly your hands. You still have that habit of fiddling with your fingers when you didn’t know what to do, he thinks.

“H-how did the hospital call you? You didn’t change your number?” Jeongguk is a hundred percent sure his choice of questions was dumb, but he doesn’t have any idea as to why you’re here.

“The hospital told me I was your emergency contact… they uh– they only found your wallet on you and found this,” you explain as you handed him his wallet. Inside was an old piece of paper with your emergency contact number and e-mail address.

“The e-mail address is now defunct, but my number is still the same because I had it reactivated when I came back here…”

When I came back here, Jeongguk repeated to himself.

Jeongguk wanted to ask you a million questions, but his throat feels dry and he is unable to speak.

“I um, I also called Yoongi. He should be here any minute,” you continue. When Jeongguk looks at you funny, you give him a small smile— the first one you’ve given him since he woke up. “We talk sometimes.”

There is a lot of information that Jeongguk needs to process but his head hurts a lot and he makes a mental note to interrogate his friend later.

You move to grab and open the plastic bag that is on the bedside table. You pull out a pair of black socks. Jeongguk sees you hesitate a bit before speaking again.

“I got these across the street… your socks got wet from the rain.”

“Oh.” Jeongguk feels really dumb.

“May I?” you tentatively ask. “Your feet will get cold if we don’t—and you have the IV on so you won’t be able to use your hands—”

“It’s okay…” Jeongguk’s response startles you. “Thank you.”

You nod and sit by his feet to put on the new socks. Jeongguk feels the tears again but he tries to hold them back as he feels your touch and your warm fingers graze his bare, cold skin. When you’re done putting them on him, you smile to yourself.

“Does that feel better?” you ask.

Jeongguk nods and hums. He took his time to look at you and to his mild surprise, you reciprocated. A sense of stillness seemed to occur like time stopped just so Jeongguk could fully take in the sight of you.

He hurriedly tries his best to memorize all your features—old and new. Your face is smaller, your cheekbones higher; both indicative of you losing a bit of weight since he saw you last. Your eyes are softer, but also more tired. You also grew out your hair.

To Jeongguk, you are still so beautiful.

And he missed you so much that his heart hurt again at the thought of losing you.

“How are y—” Jeongguk tries to ask, but the door to his hospital room slid open, revealing a disheveled Yoongi.

“Jeongguk, are you okay? What happened?”

Jeongguk notices you quickly moving aside to give Yoongi room.

“I’m fine, Yoongi. I guess I just passed out and—”

“You had another panic attack, Jeongguk. That’s the second time this week. Have you taken your medication?”

Yoongi’s string of questions had Jeongguk feeling anxious. He just had the unexpected chance of seeing you again but under the most dire circumstances. Surely, it wasn’t the time for you to hear about his mental health issues.

“Yoongi, can we—” Jeongguk tried to save face, but Yoongi was faster.

Yoongi turns to you and hugs you. “I’m sorry, ____, you must have been so confused.”

“No, not at all, I’m… I’m glad I could be of help,” you reassure. More so for Jeongguk because you know this must be very awkward for him.

A bit of awkwardness did happen because none of you spoke for a bit. Your phone ringing was the only saving grace.

“Hello? Oh, okay. I’ll be right out,” you answer the other person on the line. Hanging up, you say, “Um… I should get going.”

“Is someone picking you up?” Yoongi asks.

“Yes, Taehyung’s just a few minutes away,” you answer.

Yoongi nods and pulls you in for another hug. He whispers his thanks and you respond by hugging him tighter.

You also approach Jeongguk a little closer. “Take care of yourself, Jeongguk.” You see the pain in his eyes, but you refuse to acknowledge it to yourself, even if Jeongguk’s eyes were brimming with unshed tears and his nose was already pink.

Jeongguk doesn’t want you to go. But again, he has no choice but to let you.

“You too, ____.”

As soon as you close the door, Jeongguk allows his tears to fall.

As soon as you get into the car, Taehyung asks his questions.

“Why the hell did you just come out of a hospital?”

“Tae—”

“Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere? You’re the only one there? What happened?” You can feel the panic rising in Taehyung as he inspects you, but you just chuckle.

“Yah—you laugh?”

“I’m fine, Taehyung,” you tell him but he doesn’t look convinced. “I really am.”

“Then why were you in there?”

“I saw Jeongguk again, Tae,” you calmly respond.

Taehyung freezes. “You’re joking, right?”

“I’m not,” you answer.

“And you’re… are you okay?”

“I am.”

Taehyung knows you better than that but he gives you a pass because he could also tell you were tired and your short answers mean that you didn’t want to talk just yet.

“Do you want to talk about it over ice cream and fries?”

For a second, you felt tempted, but you just also wanted to go home. “Maybe some other time, Taehyung.”

Taehyung understands immediately and nods. “Should I take you to Woosung hyung or do I take you home?”

You do want to see Woosung because you know he is what you need, but you also don’t want to burden him with a bombshell of an event so you opt to be alone for the night. “Take me home, please.”

“Okay, ____,” Taehyung answers.

The rest of the car ride was a quiet one.

The short walk in the hallway leading to your home is a heavy one. As you punch in your passcode, you deeply sigh. You want nothing more than to collapse on the bed and ruminate on what just happened over the past few hours.

However, the moment you open the door, a wave of delicious scents welcomes you home. As you take off your shoes, you see a familiar pair. You smile to yourself as you place yours beside it.

You enter your home further and see Woosung with his back to you, working his way in the kitchen. As if on cue, Woosung turns around and walks toward you.

“Hey you,” you say with a smile.

“Hi,” Woosung responds, gathering you in his arms and pulling you into a tight embrace. “Did you have a good day, today?”

You feel yourself swallow once before nodding. Woosung, ever the sensitive boyfriend, holds you tighter.

You know you can’t hide from him. So you hold on to him tighter, too.

And you allow yourself to break down and cry.

Woosung feels your body shake and he runs his hand across your back to soothe you.

He may not know what’s going on right now, but he also knows you will talk to him when you’re ready. So he continues to embrace you; kissing the side of your head after a while.

Woosung whispers against your ear, “You’re safe with me, sweetheart.”

taglist: @whoa-jo @nays2112 @junecat18 @jk97bam @butterymin @smdnai

tags for interested readers will be open for as long as this fic is ongoing! let me know in the comments or message me, whatever fits your preference!

#jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook x you #jungkook angst #jungkook scenarios #bts au #bts au fanfic #woosung x reader #jungkook divorce au #divorce au

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maluyoongi · 4 months

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título: Ok, Allright! data: 18 de dezembro de 2023 programa: ibis paint x doada para: @jiseokerina link: 🍏

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mykoreanlove · 6 months

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Who Are You Dating?

Your friend was sitting opposite of you with crossed arms and pouting lips, being visibly upset with you.

“I just don’t understand why you are keeping this a secret from me! Don’t you trust me, y/n?” You laughed sheepishly.

“Of course I trust you. But just like I said, now is not the time to reveal his name. Not yet.”

Your friend sighed in annoyance.

“Fine. Keep your stupid secret then.” She gulped her drink in one go and thought about her next move for a minute.

“Hey, y/n!” You leaned over the table, paying her your utmost attention. “Since you won’t tell me the name of your famous sweetheart… can you at least tell me what he’s like? Is he treating you well?”

Your lips turned up into one big smile. Was your boyfriend treating you well? Was he paying attention to you and your needs? You took a sip of your drink and nodded, smiling nonchalantly.

“You could say so, yeah.” Your friend got up from the table and strode over to the bar, leaving you alone and confused. She came back with a bottle of soju in her hands and determination in her eyes.

“Do you know what this is?” You looked at her bewildered. “Soju”, you answered.

“Yes. Soju. This is a special kind of soju. With each shot we take, I get to ask you a question about your secret romance guy which you have to truthfully answer. Got it?” You admired your friend’s determination – she always had been stubborn and now was no exception.

“And you think you will figure it out that way?”

She smirked at you, then proceeded to pour the first two shots. You were nervous, yet amused. Would she figure it out? Or were you smart enough to keep your idol boyfriend’s identity a secret? You leaned back in anticipation and mustered the shots.

“Game on.”

Your friend clanked her glass with yours and both of you downed the bitter tasting alcohol in one go.

“Waaah”, she sighed in relief. “Nothing beats soju if you ask me.” You on the other hand winced in dismay as you weren’t the big drinker your friend wanted you to be.

You heard your friend clap her hands together, signaling that it was time to start her questionary game.

“Question one, and I’ll go easy on you with that one, is: when and where was your first date?”

You thought back to the first time you met him, smiling unconsciously.

“Well, it had to be months ago. Oh I know, it was the beginning of April. Shortly after my dad’s birthday. Even though I had met him weeks prior our first date was in April.”

“You met him weeks prior? What? Was he too shy to ask you out?” You threw your head back laughing.

“No, not at all. He asked me out right away – he didn’t waste any time on making clear that he liked me. However, it took us some time to meet up because he had to work non-stop. He was out of the country a lot and all his plans to take me out fell through. But then-”, you stopped with a big smile. “Then, it kind of happened spontaneously.”

Your friend looked at you skeptically. “Spontaneously?”

“Yeah. He was alone in the office, working on his music. It was late at night, so he ordered a cab for me and met me in his company’s building.” Your friend looked disappointed.

“That’s not the love story I wanted to hear, y/n.” You laughed in amusement.

“But why? He worked with what he got. He found some mats and a blanket and used those to imitate a picnic. He literally got all the snacks the office had to offer and he even found some fairy lights that he hung up to set the mood.” You smiled warmly, thinking back to how your boyfriend looked in those golden lights, admiring you just as much as you admired him.

“We talked all night and even slept there until we got woken up by the sun. I know it sounds like it wasn’t that much but it was actually very romantic.”

Your friend smirked. “Did something remarkable happen?” You blushed and looked down at your lap. “OMG, y/n. Spill the tea!”

“He, uhm, he actually showed me what he was working on. It was a love song, a very sexy one, too. And I loved it – he is so great at his craft. After he made sure that I loved the song he confessed to me – he actually wrote it for me. And then he kissed me.” Your cheeks grew redder by the second.

“No way, that sounds so lovely! He wrote a sexy love song for you? Can I hear it?” You chuckled silently.

“You already have.” Your friend’s eyes grew wide in surprise.

“What? No way? I have? He actually published a song he wrote for you?!” You smiled proudly while nodding your head. Your friend clasped her chest in amazement. “Damn.”

You took the bottle of soju in your hands and poured the next shots. After your friend had composed yourself you downed the next round. “Okay, now tell me. What is his best quality? And leave no part out!”

You leaned back in your chair, thinking about an answer that would do him justice. His best feature? You thought about his exceptional good looks – driving not only you, but thousands of fans crazy. He had those beautiful, yet intense eyes that could pierce right through you with just one glance. He had that cute nose that you could admire all day. You thought of his very sweet and kissable lips that you loved to hang unto. As you pictured your boyfriend’s face you automatically started recalling his body. The muscles on his back or his well-defined arms turned you on indefinitely. His strong legs or selient abs made you weak, as well as his cute little tushy did.

But was that his best quality? No, far from it. He was a very handsome man on the outside, but even more so on the inside. You admired his intellect, especially his emotional intelligence. He always knew how to take care of you and what to say to soothe your wounds. You admired his hard work and determination – you had never seen someone so ambitious and goal-focused as he was. You thought about his kindness – no matter how hard the day had been or which brutal lies had been spread about him, he always wore a smile on his face and treated the people around him with kindness and compassion.

“Hello? Earth to y/n? Are you still debating on his best quality?” You laughed at your friend. “Hey, it’s hard. He is such a great person. I-”

Suddenly you thought back to a moment in which you were laughing hysterically together about the most profane things, holding your stomachs while gasping for air. What you admired the most about your boyfriend was his humbleness – he never forgot where he came from and he always tried to stay down to earth while being his best self. A proud smile covered your lips again.

“His best quality is that he’s real.”

Your friend re-filled the shot glasses while monitoring the remaining soju. “Alright, I guess I have about 2 questions left, so I better make them count.” You both downed the next shots, which you started to regret immediately as you felt yourself getting dizzy. Your chest got warmer, you tongue got looser and your impulse to overshare grew quickly.

Your friend cleared her throat before posing her next question. “Is he dominant or submissive?” You nearly choked on your own spit after hearing that one. “What? It’s something your best friend should know!”

By now your cheeks were dark red – a mixture of the soju in your blood and the shyness you felt in your body. You were no prude but talking about your sex life made you feel awkward. Especially in a public place like a bar. About your super famous boyfriend that nobody was supposed to know about. You tried dodging the question but your friend was merciless.

“So?”

“Kind of both I guess?”

“I guess? I guess? Who is fucking him? You or me? What do you mean I guess?”

“Oh my god”, you whimpered as you lowered your head and hoped that the floor would swallow you this instant. How were you supposed to answer that?

He was in fact both – most of the times he loved to take on the dominant role. Usually he was the one seducing you, mounting you and having his way with you – which you totally loved. You loved getting on your knees for him, begging him to make you feel good and give you what you wanted. You loved when he was using his strength over you, pressing you into the mattress until not only your legs shook but also the walls around you. You fucking loved it when he was degrading you, being rough with you until it was over and he would pamper you like a princess.

But sometimes it was reverse – sometimes the responsibility of his work took a toll on him and he was happy to be submissive. He enjoyed being indecisive, not balancing the world on his shoulders for once and then he behaved like a brainless puppy that followed your every word. A pussydrunk boy that would burn the world down if you asked him to.

Your friend watched you debate your answer for what felt like eternity until she smirked naughtily. “You’re thinking about him fucking you for like 5 minutes and your face tells me everything, y/n. You don’t have to answer me. Lucky you though!” She stuck her tongue out and erupted in laughter afterwards.

You were eyeing the bottle of soju which was nearly empty. “Thank god”, you mumbled under your breath.

“Oh”, your friend pouted. “The bottle is almost empty. This game is so much fun – why don’t we get a new one after?” She beamed at you in excitement which you shut down immediately.

“If we get a new one, you’re the one answering questions, missy!” She rolled her eyes at you in annoyance.

“Drink up!”

Just one more question. You just had to answer one more question and you would be released from this torture. You did well until now, you had not said his name so far. You grinned at yourself proudly, congratulating yourself for your willpower.

“So, your special secret guy. Has he been in love before you?”

You felt your chest tighten. The alcohol in your blood made it impossible to hide your true feelings, so it was written all over your face. “Shit, wait. Is this a touchy subject?”

It was. In fact, it really was.

You sighed in dismay, taking your time before answering truthfully. “There has been someone before me that he was deeply in love with. His feelings were reciprocated and they shared a very beautiful, yet intense time together. It didn’t work out because there were a lot of obstacles in their way, rendering their love impossible.”

Your friend watched you silently for some time. “Y/N, it’s over between them, right? Why are you so disturbed by this?” You chuckled awkwardly.

“It is over between them, that’s true. And I shouldn’t be jealous or pissed off because of it but I find it very hard not to be. Especially when he sees that ex every day.” Your friend’s eyes widened in shock.

“Every day? Was he dating a staff member or something?” You shook your head.

“No, he was dating one of his members.” Your friend’s jaw hit the floor, leaving her silent for the first time that evening.

“You got to be shitting me. He was in a relationship with one of his members? Holy fuck. I thought those boy on boy ships were made up by crazy fan girls but they actually exist?”

“Of course they exist. Imagine spending years with someone that you like. You go through thick and thin, that person understands what you are going through like no other. It’s only natural to develop feelings in that scenario. Especially with all those sexy dances and touchy photoshoots.” Your friend nodded in agreement.

“Does he know?”

“About my insecurities? No. I try my best to hide them. What’s done is done, right?”

You glanced over at the bottle of soju. “It’s almost empty.“

“Almost”, your friend poured the remaining sip into your shot glass. “This is like half a shot. Do you get to ask me half a question then?” you grimaced.

“Haha, smart ass. Save those comments for your boyfriend. Let me think. We’ve covered your first date and his best qualities and we’ve talked about him in bed and his history with love. Oh! I know.” Your friend looked at you with a mixture of anticipation and excitement. You looked at the shot in your hand for the last time this night and downed it in one go. It actually didn’t taste so bad after four of them.

“Does he love you?”

Did he love you? You grinned the widest grin while thinking about all the ways he made you feel loved every single day. You swore yourself to secrecy in the beginning of the game but after all that soju you couldn’t help yourself. You gestured your friend to come nearer to you.

“Pssst”, you whispered, “Want to know how he loves me?” Your friend nodded while you checked your surroundings like a criminal that was about to confess his sins.

“Okay. He says ‘I love you’ obviously but you know that words are words and actions are what I’m about, right? Listen to this. When I wake up alone I always get a sweet good morning text. He randomly sends me songs that remind him of me. He loves to cook my favorite dinner. He gifts me presents all the fucking time. He calls just to hear my voice. He buys me lingerie only to take it off in 5 seconds. He sends flowers to my house just because I like flowers. He brings me soup when I feel sick. He even kisses me when I have a runny nose. If I complain about something that’s broken in my house he makes sure it gets repaired. He always asks about my family. He always compliments me – on my body and my character. He leaves random notes in my house. He always has the snacks I love most. He tracks my cycle and gets me pads and chocolate when my uterus is out to kill me. He leaves kisses all over my body. He helps me studying Korean and is so patient with me while I’m literally slaughtering his native tongue. He always checks in on me and reassures me when I feel insecure. He teaches me his dances and pretends I’m good at it. He laughs at my jokes – I mean obviously he does because I’m hilarious, but it’s like he laughs extra hard. And when I’m sad or down the drain he makes sure that I laugh a little bit more. He always makes sure that I know how proud he is of me. Even if I have to date him in secret right now I know that he loves me with all of his heart.” You looked at your teary-eyed friend.

“So, did you figure it out?”

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kpopimaginings · 20 days

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Coachella - Woosung (Sammy)

A/N: My first The Rose writing. Big thanks to anon for requesting, and especially for requesting my bias!

Playing Coachella was a big deal for The Rose, but what made it an even bigger deal for Woosung was that he had you there with him.

The guys were getting ready and hyping themselves side stage and you were right there with them to offer encouragement.

"I'm kind of nervous," Woosung admitted to you as he bounced up and down to release some of the nervous energy.

"You'll do amazingly, babe, you always do," you assured him.

"Thanks," he smiled back at you. "I don't know whether you watching makes it better or worse."

"Oh, don't worry about that. As soon as you head on stage, I'm going for a wander to see who else is playing," you joked.

Woosung quickly grabbed your wrist, as if he thought you were actually going to leave. "You wouldn't dare."

You took a step closer to him, "Wouldn't I? If me being here makes you nervous, maybe I should."

The words had barely left your lips when you found yourself caught in a short but passionate kiss.

"You won't," he asserted.

"Hm, promise me more of that when the sets done, and I definitely won't."

He shot you that cheeky smile you loved so much before retorting. "Maybe you'll need to stay here to find out."

The moment was broken by Dojoon calling your boyfriend away. You couldn't stop the smile the formed on your face as The Rose readied themselves and headed out on stage. As much fun as it was to tease your somewhat possessive boyfriend, you were so proud of him and band that you would never have missed this performance.

NAVIGATION

#the rose #woosung #kim woosung #sammy #woosung imagine #woosung drabble #woosung scenario #woosung x reader #the rose x reader #the rose imagine #the rose imagines #woosung imagines #woosung fluff #the rose sammy #the rose fanfic #the rose woosung #the rose band

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coffeedepressionsoup · 10 months

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Somebody does love | MYG - They Meet

Pairing - Yoongi x F!reader

Summary - "What is grief, if not love persevering?" Two people are in love but that is not enough because sometimes loving requires courage.

This is the one where the two meet for the first time. Part 2 of Somebody Does Love.

Series Masterlist

Genre - fluff, strangers to lovers, eventual smut and angst

Word count - 3k+

Warnings - lil swearing, SMOKING IS INJURIOUS TO HEALTH! nothing else I can think of

Ratings - 13+

A/N - Apologies for the late update. But do let me know in the comments what you think of the chapter and what direction you want to see the narrative flow in. Also, this is not proofed, please excuse typos, tense, and grammar errors. And if you liked it, please please please engage with the post. Comment, like, repost. Your engagement is the sole reason I am pushed to write.

Your flight landed with a two-hour delay at 5 pm at the Incheon airport. After collecting your baggage and going through customs, you shot a text to your friend and waited near one of the cafes inside the airport for the crowd to die down. In about 10 minutes you lugged your bags behind you, pulling your mask further up your nose and pulling the bucket hat to right above your eyes.

It didn’t take long to spot Sammy. Dressed in all black, he had a casual gait that only he could have. It also helped that he carried a little cat poster. You could see his eyes crinkle with a smile as he saw you walking out, which mirrored your own.

“Oh it’s so good to finally have you here!” he said while hugging and slightly managing to lift you off the ground.

“I know. But I am so hungry and nervous and I have such a bad headache,” you mumbled into his jacket shoulder.

“Let’s get you washed, fed and rested. Come on,” he chuckled patted your back and took one of your bags before starting walking towards his car. Ah! His car. A black 2022 Maserati Ghibli Modena. One that he has been yapping about for months on end.

You honestly found it ridiculous. The inordinate amount of money people would pay to procure “luxury” items always confounded you. Sure, wealth commands a certain amount of comfort- Your brain stopped as soon as you sat down on the passenger’s seat of the car. Your ass was far more comfortable than it has ever been on any bed or couch that you have ever owned. Maybe you can allow yourself to see why someone would spend hundreds and thousands of dollars on a car.

Sammy closed the back of the car, with all your bags safely tucked in, and walked over to the driver’s seat. He saw you leaning back onto the seat with your eyes closed. He smirked behind the mask and sat down, swiftly starting the car.

“Still think this was an unnecessary splurge?” his mask had come off and he had that wide eye-crinkling smile.

“Maybe not,” you smiled to yourself. “How far is your place from here?”

“About an hour, with the school and office traffic now, some more.”

“My dead body will enter your residence, Kim Woosung,” you groaned and pulled at the seatbelt in annoyance. Both your mask and hat were now on your lap. Your head felt like the persistent beating of 500 drums all at once.

“Try to take a nap, I will play your sleep playlist,” he suggested.

You could not move another muscle to bother with a response. His reply was like a command. With your eyes shut, you shifted your shoulders to place your neck relatively comfortably. The last thing you remember is the comforting, low hum of white noise filling up the space around you.

_______________________

You walked out of the SNU campus, your colleague and friend Samairah in tow. She is the reason you are in Seoul in the first place. You met at an academic conference in Edinburgh when you were still PhD researchers. Dr Samairah Nazli is now a full-time professor of Gender Studies at the prestigious Seoul National University.

“It is just a contract for the coming academic year, Y/N! Come on! You will also get to spend time with Sammy.” You had scoffed back at your friend over the video call last November when she said her department wanted to invite you as a Visiting Professor for their newly-introduced Feminist Economics course and the existing Gender and Media course that a now-retired professor used to handle.

But a week later when you found yourself in a virtual meeting with the Dean, Department Head and the Vice Chancellor, the opportunity did seem intriguing. They did want to eventually offer you a full-time position. You would be tenured at 32! Also, you can work with Samairah again, after working on your first book together, you knew you would work together again.

And of course, you get to spend time with Sammy. One of your best friends. Kim Woosung of The Rose. But only Sammy to you. Crazy to think that you only met him about three years ago, at Friar Park of all places on the planet, but lord, did you love that dude to bits.

“Wanna grab a drink?” Samairah asks, as you both head towards the subway station.

“No, meeting the broker again.”

“This will be the 8th place she’s showing you?”

You shook your head as you dug in your pockets for the cigarette case. “No. Ninth.”

You lit a cigarette and said, “I really want to finalise a place and settle down before the semester begins.”

“Tough to do all that in what- 12 days now?” she counted the days mentally and grabbed the smoke you held out for her to counter.

“I wish I were a millionaire at times like these,” you took back the smoke and gave it a long drag as you stopped at the crossing. Samairah would go straight from here to catch her train and you will take a left and meet Hwang Seul-gi. Your realtor. Broker. Currently, the most important person in your life.

You could have opted to stay at the Siheung-Si staff residence for part-time and visiting faculties, but that would mean you would spend half the day in transit. And you hated transit. Motion made you sick. So yes, car trips with you are absolute joyrides for your friends.

You also wanted time to work on the manuscript of the next book you are planning. And you want enough time to sleep. God, you wish to have a carefree night of sleep soon. Not that Sammy’s guest room is bad, it is comfortable, and luxurious even when you consider the free cuddles from Woolfie, but it still is not a place of your own.

Although Sammy argued the opposite back when you told him about your year-long relocation to Seoul. He wanted you to live as roommates. Even offered you to pay for house-sitting in mirth, for all the times he would be away on tour.

Again, you loved the guy. But his social butterfly stages of self are something you could take in small doses. You knew what his schedule was like, how many people dropped by for work at his home studio, and even just because to share drinks. But a whole year of it would drive you mad. So Sammy finally gave up trying to convince you and connected you to Seul-gi.

The lovely Seul-gi who yet again showed you a wonderful place, reasonably near the campus. But the deposit itself would require you to sell both your kidneys, maybe an eye and even a good chunk of your liver.

It was almost 7:30 by the time you left the apartment complex and headed towards Sammy’s place. You could take a cab, but the crisp late February air made a nice weather for a walk. You were passing through a park, almost deserted at the time, when you heard a noise that alerted you.

It sounded like someone was struggling. Some animal. You could hear low grunts, probably a puppy or a kitten, but you looked around and saw nothing immediately. The noise continued so you stopped and tried to follow the direction of the sound.

You reached a bush at the side of the pathway and were sure that this was the location. But the sun was already down. Dim yellow lights sparsely lit the park pathway, enough for people to look and walk, but not enough to see within the bushes.

By the noise you could now tell that there was also a metal scraping noise, but barely so. You turned on your phone's flashlight but still saw nothing. You looked around but saw no one. Trying your best to not step on any of the plants, you entered the bush and squatted down with the flashlight.

“Hey, are you okay?” a low but heavy voice from above you startled you and the phone almost dropped from your grip as you stood up to see who it was. A man donning all black with a mask, a cap and a hoodie looked right back at you. Only his eyes were visible and the eyes were filled with concern. In the commotion of your entry into the bush and stomping around, ever so mildly within it had now increased the noise.

It sounded like a distressed kitten. You looked back down and could see one of the drainage grills under the dense foliage of the bush. You looked back up at the stranger and said, “I think a kitten has fallen into the drain.”

Before the man could respond, you squatted back down again and saw the drain and beady little eyes inside it clearly this time. You put down your bag beside you on the ground and put all your effort into pulling the iron rungs up. You could feel it move a little, but not enough to dislodge it.

“Hey baby, don’t worry. I will get you out of there,” you cooed through your laboured breath. By now, the stranger had joined you. You both exchanged glances and without saying a word you went in and pulled at the grille together at the same time. It seemed a lot easier with the two of you having pulled at it. With one arm, the stranger shifted the grille aside.

You peered down the drain and extended your arm to grab the kitten. The poor being was scared and cold and probably even more traumatised by all the strange and sudden commotion. You leant down completely, with your stomach on the ground and lowered yourself into the opening up to your shoulders to grab the kitten with both your hands.

The man next to you extended a cautious arm as if to make sure you don’t fall in. Well, the opening was not big enough for you to fall into. But you could get weirdly stuck. But soon he saw your body lifting up and his extended hand hovered over your body, never touching, but ready to help if needed.

You came back up with a feisty calico kitten in your hands who initially made a few tiny scratches on your palm but was now just shivering. The man beside you promptly took off the work jacket he was wearing over his hoodie and handed it towards you. How many layers is he wearing? A small part of your mind wandered, but you quickly grabbed it from him, giving him a thankful smile and wrapped the kitten up in the jacket and held her close to your body, for maximum warmth.

You looked down at the ground near your feet where your bag was and before you could bend over to grab it, the man swooped in and said, “I got this.”

After you stepped out of the bush, you turned to the man again and said, bowing politely, “Thank you for your help.”

“No problem at all. I have two cats of my own, I know the fear of losing them” he said in a calm but understanding tone. You looked at his eyes more closely while he talked, you could have sworn you had met him before, but didn’t know where.

You shook your head and replied, “Oh no, this is not my cat.” And then you explained the noise you followed. The man nodded his head and looked around probably thinking the same thing that you were. “Do you think the mother is around here somewhere?” you asked.

“If she were, she wouldn’t be too far away.”

You looked back down at the kitten, who had stopped shivering now but was still covered in a considerable amount of mud and dirt. You also considered checking if she was chipped and if the person could be notified if she was already a pet. “Do you know of any vet nearby? I am new here, so-”

“Yes, it’s on my way. I will drop you,” he held his arm out to point in the general direction of where you were headed to go back to Sammy’s. You started walking and the man joined you. Out of the park, and having crossed two traffic signals and taken two right turns, you reached the vet’s chamber. It was reasonably empty. You put your name in the register and waited.

The man sat in a chair next to you but one. He looked over to see you making conversation with the kitten. Of course, she won’t be able to say if she lost her mother or forgot her way home. But the sing-song voice you used clearly worked. He could see the large dark beady eyes of the kitten staring back at your face with wonder and trust.

He too looked at your face with wonder and felt a strange sense of trust and comfort. When he saw a person climb inside a bush at a more or less empty park on a random Thursday evening, he half expected it to be a madman. But when he peered in and saw the glow of a flashlight, he grew more curious.

He noticed how a part of your right elbow was scraped slightly, not that you seemed to notice. He also saw the muddy bits on your beige outfit. And then looked again at the kitten wrapped in his jacket, on your lap.

“Y/N,” the receptionist called out. You stood up and turned towards the man and gave him a curt nod. He blinked several times before nodding back at your retreating figure and gulped down a deep breath. Did you catch him staring? Even if you did, you didn’t let it show. Y/N. Y/N. He repeated the name in his head a couple of times.

It was only after the doctor examined the kitten and told you that she has no chips, and is healthy but is slightly malnourished, that you realised you have so far, that is almost in 30 to 40 minutes’ time, not once asked for the man's name - the stranger in black, now at pet clinic reception.

You just followed a stranger through a dimly lit park and ended up where you are now. When put that way, doesn’t sound like the safest thing to do.

The groomers had taken the kitten to another room to clean her up. The vet wrote up some supplements that the kitten could be given and asked you to wait outside. You walked out and saw the man, right where he was, hugging your bag on his lap, scrolling through his phone. Cap, mask and hoodie - still intact. You went up to him and sat in the seat next to him but one.

“Thanks for looking after my bag,” you smiled.

The man looked up at you and held the bag out, you could see the crinkles of his smile near his eyes. “Is she alright?” he asked.

You explained whatever the doctor said.

“Are you going to keep her then?”

Your eyes widened comically and then it dawned on you. You don’t even have a place for yourself. Where the fuck are you gonna keep her? And if the mother was still around, she would likely not be malnourished, so it is not like you can hope to reunite her with her mom.

Sammy would not mind, for now, you knew. But Woolfie? How would he react?

Seeing you stunned, the man chuckled, “You hadn’t really thought so far, had you?”

“Not really. My immediate instinct was to just release the kitten. But she’s so small and frail, I cannot possibly let her be anywhere else. But-”

Before you could say anything else, one of the groomers approached you, with the kitten now in a cosy, little carrier, all clean and dried. And he carried the jacket she was wrapped in, in the other hand.

You thanked him and then turned to the man next to you and looked guiltily down at the jacket on your right hand. “I am sorry about this. I will get it dry-cleaned and return it to you. And also, I am sorry I didn’t catch your name till now. I am Y/N Y/L/N," you draped the jacket over your other forearm and extended your arm for a shake.

“HI Y/N, I am Min Yo-,” he choked on his words before he cleared his throat and said taking your hand and giving it a firm shake, “I am Min Yong-Ho.”

You smiled back and walked out of the vet clinic. “I go this way now,” you pointed towards the left.

“Oh I go the opposite way,” you could see the hint of a smile but also maybe apprehension.

You had bought cat food worth a week, food bowls, a litter box, litter pellets and a small cat bed. You requested the store to deliver the items to Sammy’s address. In the meantime, you had texted the bare bones of your encounter to him. So he was ready to greet a kitten into his home by the time you went back and for the time being had locked his bedroom door, where Woolfie was fast asleep.

You nodded and asked the man, “So, Yong-ho, how do I return your jacket?”

The man looked around, eyes seeming frantic, almost like a deer caught in headlights. Until finally he pointed at a cafe on the opposite side of the road. “How about we meet at that cafe on Sunday evening?”

“Sure, I will bring back a spick and span jacket, I promise,” you said and asked, “6 PM sounds good?”

“6 PM sounds perfect,” the man nodded and waved back at you as you went your way - the kitten in the carrier in one hand, his jacket in the other and your bag, now draped as a sling across your body. He doesn’t know how long he stood there. But he kept staring your way for five seconds longer after your silhouette disappeared over the horizon.

Taglist: @majiiisstuff, @starlighttaek8, @yoongrace

#min yoongi #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts imagines #bts suga #min yoongi x reader #suga #yoongi fic #yoongi #agust d #kim woosung #suga x reader #suga fanfic #bts #bangtan #suga bangtan

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saturnnelahy · 4 months

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𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑹𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒔 𝒕𝒆𝒙𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒓

𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴: 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘙𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘰𝘵4 𝘹 𝘺𝘰𝘶

(Masterlist here)

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shykpop · 4 months

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The rose icons

Like or reblog, If you/use

Credits always welcome

Ask is open

psd: @colour-source

#icons #120x120 #spirit fanfics #icons 120x120 #kpop #kpop icons #rock #krock #band #kband #the rose #dojoon #hajoon #jaehyeong #woosung

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tsaportf · 5 months

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☆ Tardes e bolinhos para meu amor

Pedido via projeto — fantasyisland

☆ obrigada por me visitar :)

#social spirit #capa divertida #capa de fic #capista #capa de fanfic #capa para spirit #capa design #design simples #the rose band #the rose kpop #kim woosung #woosung #the rose #hajoon #capa clean #capa de fanfic clean

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bambikisss · 1 year

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E.DIN UNIVERSITY WANTS YOU !

Welcome to my "Around the University" (or A.K.A University Daddies as one of my friends called it lol) collection. This collection is all college!student, so make sure to enroll and enjoy the stories.

If you want to nominate someone for this collection, please do not hesitate to send me an ask

~ University Principle, E.Den

IN THE UNIVERSITY:

Forever is a long time :: Cho Guesung

[University soccer player, accidental pregnancy]

Current course load: WIP

Rockstar :: Woosung

[University rockstar]

Current course load: WIP

Your friends suck :: WonWoo

[Coffee Barista ]

Current course load :: DONE

Shitty Romance movies :: WonWoo

[Universeity student, friends to lovers]

Curret course load :: DONE

#~bambi #e.den #wonwoo imagines #seventeen wonwoo #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo #wonwoo fluff #cho gue sung imagines #cho gue sung x reader #cho gue sung #cho guesung #cho guesung smut #woosung imagines #kim woosung #woosung smut #the rose woosung #woosung

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kpopjust4u · 2 years

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Lyric Scenario - I like your face

Post Date: 26th October 2022 Content: Suggestive - Kim Woosung x Reader WC: 0.7K TW?: Mentions of alcohol/ Making out Request?: Yes

Masterlist Prompt list

Lyric references are highlighted in bold

Woosung catches you out of the corner of his eyes at the bar, drink in hand as he hums to himself, liking the view of you that he was getting. You stand out to him in the middle of the crowd, no one catching his attention quite like you're doing.

You were a regular at his bar, and it was a happy surprise to him that you turned up once again, happy enough that he was going to get the chance to speak to you.

Of course, you knew who he was, who didn't? You purposely go to this bar just to get some eye candy from the guy you thought would never give you the light of day until tonight.

Realising he's walking over towards you, your heart flutters as the faintest shade of pink flushes your cheeks, luckily enough you had already put a bit of blush on so it wasn't so noticeable.

"Back again?" he smirks, signalling to the barman to get you a refill of your drink, free of charge of course as he generously hands it over to you the second it's made.

You're heart stops for a moment, not realising he's noticed you in here before, you guessed he remembers a lot of his regular's faces but this time, it was different. Tiny whispers hiss around you, people stopping in their tracks to see what their favourite bar owner is doing with a girl like you.

"Ah, look at that. All eyes on you," he scoffs, and with a flick of his fingers, the place goes back to normal, wanting it to be as private between you as possible in the middle of the bar.

"Thank you, for the drink," you shyly reply, switching your gaze between the drink in your grasp and his handsome face, his features perfectly proportioned on his face, it was sickening.

He smiles at you, winking at you as he slowly sips out of his own glass, you follow suit by taking a sip of yours, hands trembling slightly as your breath does the same.

"I hear your breath trembling, do I make you nervous?" his cocky tone makes your spine shiver, biting your lip slightly as you try your best to ignore it.

All of a sudden, you're pulling in close to him with his hand firm on your waist, "How would you like to go somewhere quieter, more private maybe?".

As much as you wanted to do so, your nerves get the best of you, wondering what people would think of you if you had left with him, "I should really get going soon".

He clicks his tongue, leaning in close to you, "Come on girl, I'm sure you don't need to leave now, no need to hurry," his voice like butter making your pant a little.

The temptation is there and he knows it, taking your hand as he directs you out of the bar, into the staff only second towards his office.

When the door closes behind you, he sets his drink down on his desk, looking at you like you were the most perfect person in the world, his hand reconnects to your hip, the other hand joining on the opposite side.

Looking at your lips, he bites his own, "I like your face, your red lips like cherry," he whispers, face inching closer to your own, your mind racing as you were tempted to close it fully.

You didn't have to worry about that the second his lips connected with yours and you really couldn't fight it, indulging at the moment and any worries of this being the worst decision in your life were non-existent as long as he had his lips on yours.

As your lips mould together, tongues swirling around each other, you're guided towards the desk being pressed against it as you're hoisted up onto it, the kiss turning heated the second he lifts your leg around his waist.

He breaks from the kiss for a moment, a smirk plastered on his face, his voice deep but smooth, "I've been waiting for this moment, to see your flashy kissing skills. Maybe, before the night is over, we could share a very special moment".

Tags: @scuzmunkie , @ateezreactionsandscenarios , @trashlord-007 , @fanfictrashlord-007

#Spotify #kpop #kpop blog #kpop fanfic #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop lyric scenarios #woosung #kim woosung #woosung scenarios #woosung fanfic #woosung x reader #the rose woosung

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tafeekafee · 23 days

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🌹🤍 I got you, you got me, nothin' in the way (Part 2/2)

Part 1: I got you, you got me, nothin' in the way I

Whumpee: Woosung

Caretakers: Dojoon, Hajoon and Jaehyeong

Jaehyeong couldn’t take the pain in Woosung’s eyes anymore. The leader’s face was pinched, whole complexion washed out. They all pretended not to hear the pain-filled exhales whenever Woosung accidentally brushed his foot against Dojoon or moved any way. The shivering hadn’t stopped and he knew it was not only the cold but also shock that had Woosung so out of sorts. Holding his hand, Jaehyeong had felt the rapid heartbeat and the clammy, cold skin. The leader kept rejecting any offers of drinks, admitting to still feeling nauseous.

“That’s it”, Jaehyeong said after another painfilled breath, letting go of Woosung’s hand and getting up, “I’ll go see if I find somebody who can give him some pain medication.”

The others looked up at him. Hajoon nodded, looking relieved. Jaehyeong knew that while he was hiding his anxiety well enough, Hajoon was deeply worried. Inside his sometimes scary resting face and broad built there was an incredibly soft person. Dojoon reached out to rest a hand on Jaehyeong’s arm.

“Be safe.”

Woosung kept quiet, his face buried against Hajoon’s stomach.

Outside of the room, Jaehyeong made his way to the entrance area. The ER was full to the brim and his heart sank. Surely this meant a lot of waiting for them. He approached the line to the front desk and prayed they would soon move forward. Despite his hopes it took nearly twenty minutes until he was able to speak to the stressed nurse.

“I wanted to ask for my friend, you know the guy with the injured ankle”, Jaehyeong said and gestured into the direction of where the room was. “I know there is a lot going on here but is it possible for him to at least receive pain medication?”

“I’m very sorry, I really am. But no doctor’s are available and we can’t just give him meds.”

Jaehyeong sighed, having feared that. “Can we at least have a blanket? He is shivering. He might be experiencing shock.”

The nurse nodded. “That is possible. Hold on, we have blankets in the back.” She disappeared into the room behind her and came back with one of the typical, thin hospital blankets. It would have to be enough.

“Thank you”, he said gratefully.

“If you want to, follow that hallway and you will find the cafeteria. You could buy him some warm tea if you want. Remember to keep his feet elevated.”

“Yes, thank you.”

He hurried down the way she had pointed and indeed there was a small bistro. He stepped up and ordered three coffees and a green tea. The three of them would need all the energy they could get and maybe tea was a bit more desirable than the overly sweet sprite to Woosung’s queasy stomach. He received a tray and quickly made his way back, carefully balancing everything.

Pushing open the door to the waiting room was a bit difficult but he managed. Jaehyeong placed the tray on the small shelf, hoping it would not tip over, and handed Hajoon the blanket. The older spread it over Woosung’s body with Dojoon’s help.

“Thank you”, Woosung whispered.

“Don’t worry about it”, Jaehyeong said, “I brought some tea. You can try some if you like, when it’s drinking temperature.” Woosung shrugged.

After passing around the cups to the others and grabbing his own, Jaehyeong sank down into his original position on the chair. This time, instead of holding Woosung’s hand, he sneaked his hand under the blanket and rested his hand against Woosung’s stomach, hoping the warmth would help the nausea.

He knew it stemmed from pain, shock and anxiety not sickness but maybe it would bring comfort anyhow.

“Ah-hah!”, Dojoon exclaimed, holding up his phone. He had luckily taken his phone charger with him and had let it charge the past hour so they could watch movies or whatever when it was full. His screen that he turned to show them now displayed sixty-two percent, enough to not die while watching something.

“What are we watching?”, Hajoon asked.

“What about Idol Radio?”, Dojoon suggested, “then anybody who can’t see the screen can still listen. Here you go.” He handed the phone over to Jaehyeong who tried to position himself in a way that they all could see.

“Oh, it’s ATEEZ”, Hajoon said happily, peering at the screen. Even Woosung had perked up a bit, shifting so he could see the screen. Nothing like a show to distract yourself. “You can turn it to the others”, Dojoon said, absently rubbing Woosung’s leg, “I’m content to just listen.”

🌹

They were nearing the end of the show and Woosung had nearly fallen asleep, when there was a knock on the door and a young doctor entered. Jaehyeong sighed in relief. Finally.

“Good afternoon”, she greeted, very straight-forward, “my name is Kim Ha Rin, I am your doctor today. I heard you injured your foot?”

Woosung blinked, dazed, and nodded, shifting upright to look up at her with Hajoon’s help. Jaehyeong stood up to offer the doctor the chair and moved to stand beside Hajoon.

“How did that happen?”, she asked. Hajoon retold the story while the doctor grabbed some gloves and moved to sit by Woosung’s foot. Dojoon got up carefully and gently placed Woosung’s foot into her waiting hands.

“Alright, that foot does not look good at all, Woosung-ssi”, the doctor said. Jaehyeong internally rolled his eyes. He knew it wasn’t her fault that the ER was swamped and they were bored and annoyed but anybody could have told them that.

“I’m going to feel around and try to move your ankle to see how much range of motion is left. It will help me determine what may be wrong. Tell me to stop if it gets too bad.”

Woosung nodded, face paling, and reached out to take Hajoon’s hand again. The drummer was sitting behind him, holding him tightly. Looking at them, Jaehyeong couldn’t help but feel a bit … superfluous? He didn’t want to crowd Woosung but just standing there felt even worse. As if he sensed his inner struggle, Dojoon wrapped an arm around him.

🌹

Woosung looked at the doctor holding his foot. It hurt, badly. Not even Hajoon’s warm embrace or the feeling of his rough hand in his soothed the pain. He hadn’t known it was possible but the swelling and bruising was even worse than it had been all those hours ago in the training room.

Rationally Woosung knew that the doctor was being careful, he really knew that. But they way she moved it around was excruciating. Seeing the injured limb being moved around and combined with the pain made the previous queasiness turn into full-blown nausea.

“I don’t feel good”, he panted, in what seemed to be a repeat of earlier that day.

“No, Woosung, don’t look”, Hajoon said behind him, gripping his hand tighter “you know better, we don’t need you to faint again.”

Maybe it was morbid fascination, maybe something else, but Woosung couldn’t tear his gaze away from the injury.

“I’m going to be sick”, Woosung whispered, gagging against the hand he managed to place against his mouth just in time. Not caring that he was in the danger zone, Jaehyeong reached across them to grab the forgotten emesis basis and held it under Woosung’s chin.

“It’s okay, hyung”, the maknae comforted, “if you need to throw up, let it happen. You’ll feel better after.”

Woosung gagged again, this time feeling bile rise in his throat. Jaehyeong held the kidney dish with one hand and used the other to brush Woosung’s hair away from his face. “It’s okay”, he repeated.

With a weak retch Woosung leaned forward and opened his lips. The few sips of tea that Dojoon had made him drink came up, bitterly burning against his throat. He gasped for breath, choking a bit. Hajoon patted his back prompting a cough and Woosung gagged up a mouthful of sick before it turned into unpleasant dry-heaving. Nothing else beside the bit of liquid came up though Woosung kept leaning over the kidney dish just in case.

“Deep breath, Sammy”, Dojoon comforted from somewhere behind him.

“Can I take this away?”, the doctor asked sympathetically, gesturing at the cardboard. Apathetically, Woosung nodded. He was so exhausted, his vision swimming slightly. He leaned his head back against Hajoon’s shoulder, closing his eyes.

The doctor addressed them. “Woosung-ssi, I believe you likely tore a ligament in your ankle. However, just to be sure, we need to take an MRI so we can rule out anything else. Are you okay with that?”

Woosung felt like he was going to cry. He just wanted medication and go home and sleep in his bed. For at least twelve hours straight. Waiting any longer sounded like torture.

“Can he at least have pain medication and maybe something for the nausea now?”, Dojoon asked, to the untrained ear probably sounding polite but Woosung could hear the irritation in his voice.

“Yes, of course. I’ll put in a line and he can have fluids, pain medication and an anti-emetic as soon as it’s secure.”

“Thank you”, Jaehyeong said, placing a calming hand on Dojoon’s arm.

🌹

“Okay, let’s see”, the doctor said and sprayed disinfectant on Woosung’s hand, manipulating it to get a view of his veins. “You’re really dehydrated but I think I feel a vein. I can’t see it but it’s there. Alright, small pinch.”

Woosung gripped Dojoon’s hand tightly, panting in pain. He had closed his hand the moment the doctor had arrived with the set. He hated needles and a small needle should not hurt like this. Still, it did. At least it momentarily overruled the pain in his ankle.

“I’m sorry, but the vein seems to be too small”, the doctor apologized. “I will have to try again.”

Hajoon huffed and Woosung understood the sentiment. He was annoyed too, deep down, but mostly he was just tired. He nodded at her.

“Pump your fist, exactly like that”, she advised. Moving his hand from flat to a fist was not nice, the torn skin in his arms pulling.

Yet he knew if she succeeded the pain would finally get better.

“Okay, second try”, the doctor warned. Woosung hissed but then the needle was in. “Let’s see. It’s in but the blood is not flowing. Let me move it around a bit.” Fuck, that hurt.

And for nothing.

“I’m sorry, Woosung-ssi. You’re really dehydrated. That makes my job really hard right now.”

Woosung just nodded, ignoring the tears behind his eyes. “I always had bad veins”, he choked out. Damn, the tears started falling in earnest then. Gently somebody wiped them off with their thumb. Woosung opened his eyes to look at Dojoon, who smiled softly.

“You got this, Sung-ah”, he promised. Woosung did not want to have it. He wanted to be pain free. Pronto. Without a needle or a torn ligament or whatever.

“Let’s try again. And, yes. I got it! I’ll connect the fluids and the medication now. Tell somebody if you feel weird or anything. I’m very sorry, again. See you for the MRI.”

Without further ado the doctor left.

🌹

They had to wait for the MRI for nearly another two hours. Dojoon felt really bad for poor Woosung. He knew the leader had been under a lot of stress and his resources had nearly been used up before today. Now, after hours of pain it wasn’t hard to tell that Woosung was emotionally and physically done for. At least the meds helped.

Dojoon had traded places with Jaehyeong (Hajoon unwilling to give up being the pillow) and if he hadn’t felt his heartbeat pulsing in his wrist and heard his unregular breathing he would have assumed Woosung was deeply asleep. The leader’s head was turned against Hajoon’s stomach again, basically hiding from the world. He seemed painfully young like this.

Occasionally it seemed like Woosung fell asleep but he was never able to rest for long. The IV with the pain medication and the anti-emetic were irritating him, Dojoon could tell from the way he held his hand very stiffly and tried not to move it. The leader really wasn’t good at being sick.

Jaehyeong, meanwhile, was playing on his phone, seeking distraction. Hajoon was still holding onto Woosung, trying to comfort him by rubbing circles on his back. There was a guilty look on his face that Dojoon didn’t like at all.

“What’s up with you?”, Dojoon finally asked when Hajoon kept looking up at the ceiling as if trying not to cry. The second oldest was astonished that Woosung hadn’t cried more than he already head but he couldn’t figure out why Hajoon looked like he might.

“Huh?”, Jaehyeong asked, his gaze never moving from his screen.

“Not you”, Dojoon said, “I was asking Dylan.”

“It’s nothing, Leo”, Hajoon replied, though his voice quivered.

“Yeah, sure”, Dojoon said, his tone slightly mocking. He hoped that teasing would make Hajoon a bit more comfortable than the weird tenseness that was in the air. “Spill, kiddo.”

“I’m not a kid”, Hajoon complained, “Jaehyeong is.”

“It’s three months”, Jaehyeong whined.

“You’re kiddo”, Dojoon decided, “Jeff is baby.”

“Hey!” The baby finally looked up from his phone to glare at Dojoon, who grinned at him. Already it felt a bit more light-hearted in the room.

“Well, what are you then?”, Hajoon asked, “what is Sammy?”

“Don’t you dare”, Woosung muttered, apparently not as asleep as they had assumed.

“I’m normal. Sammy is a fossil”, Dojoon announced after a second of thought.

“I hate you, Leo”, Woosung grumbled.

“Yeah, I love you too, old man. But now that we got this out of the way, I want to repeat myself: ‘What’s up with you, Joon-ah?’”, Dojoon asked, his voice turning concerned. “And don’t deflect.”

Woosung turned a bit to look up at Hajoon, his eyes wide and adorable and his hair completely messed up from laying down. Jaehyeong put his phone away, watching with interest.

“It’s …”, Hajoon started and sighed. “I was watching you dance from behind earlier, right? If I had seen that the cable had wrapped itself around hyung’s foot just a second earlier, all of this could have been avoided. I’m very sorry, Woosung-ssi.” He looked back up at the ceiling, blinking away tears.

“This is the stupidest thing I have heard today and I have not forgotten the train jokes”, Dojoon replied, shocked by the revelation but knowing that Hajoon would appreciate a more teasing approach to the conversation instead of raw emotion. Jaehyeong nodded, reaching over to pat Hajoon’s arm. “If we went with this logic, shouldn’t Woosung have not danced today? It’s his fault for moving around, isn’t it? Or maybe, I am to blame too, after all I brought the microphone?”

“What? No!”, Hajoon countered, staring at Dojoon with wide eyes, “that’s not what I was trying to imply at all!”

“We know that”, Jaehyeong comforted, “but Dojoon-hyung is right. It was a stupid accident, nobody was at fault.”

Woosung lifted his hand to tenderly brush away the desperate tears that fell down Hajoon’s face. “Joon-ah, hyung isn’t mad at you”, he said quietly, his voice a bit husky, “things like that happen. It’s probably just a torn ligament, you heard the doctor. Nothing really bad happened and you are not at fault for anything.”

Hajoon nodded jerkily, wiping at his eyes with his sleeves, looking adorable in Dojoon’s personal opinion.

Just as they had settled back down, a nurse entered the room, pushing a wheelchair. “The MRI is ready for you. Don’t worry, you won’t have to wait much longer. Once the results are in, you can go home.”

She disconnected the IV bags that had been empty for some time. Nobody had come to disconnect them even after Dojoon had gone to ask. They were too busy.

“Thank you”, Woosung said and transferred to the wheelchair with Hajoon’s and Dojoon’s help, while Jaehyeong stabilised his foot.

“You can wait here”, the nurse addressed them and then vanished with Woosung.

🌹

Woosung was returned to them forty-five minutes later, looking completely knocked out. He was accompanied by the doctor from before who directly announced: “As I already guessed, Woosung-ssi tore a ligament in his ankle. It’s a grade 3 tear, so it will take some time to heal, however. You can bring him to the car using the wheelchair and we’ll give you some crutches to use at home. For the first days he should use an elastic bandage until the swelling is a bit better and once he is able to put some weight on the foot you should go to a orthopaedic doctor and get a walking brace fitted. It will take a few months until you are truly able to walk again on that foot, Woosung-ssi. In the mean time avoid walking, keep your foot elevated as much as possible and stay away from cables. You can take over the counter medication to help with the pain.”

“Thank you, seonsaeng-nim”, Dojoon said, grateful the waiting had an end. The doctor left with a wave and Dojoon knelt down so he could look up at the leader.

“Let’s get you home, Sammy.”

Notes: I once had doctors try fifteen times to get blood drawn - fifteen fucking times and nobody was there to hold my hand:( Not fun times... but yeah, just getting an IV line can suck when you are dehydrated. I just had to add a scene about that:)

#sick the rose #the rose #the rose woosung #sickfic #hurt/comfort #injured woosung #hajoon #woosung #dojoon #jaehyeong #fanfic #the rose fanfic #🧚🏽‍♀️#🌹#part 2/2 #emeto #whump #🤍

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