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agusfree · 8 months ago

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THE SOLSTICE COVEN

BTS (CENTRIC CAREGIVER! YOONGI) X WHEELCHAIR USER! READER MAGIC/SOULMATES AU

CHAPTER 7 (6.1k words)

For more information about this story, find it here

Entering the same coffee shop as last time brings a familiarity that does not serve to calm my quickly beating heart, and I for a moment wonder if coming here was really a good idea when staring at Namjoon brings its share of fluttering sensations in my stomach.

How absolutely ridiculous is it that I might develop a crush on Hoseok’s mate? I am already having a rather hard time getting rid of any warmth the witch makes me feel whenever he stands close, not to forget that Yoongi and I have started… whatever this is supposed to be for now.

I need to get over these feelings and quickly. It’s not fair to their coven, to Yoongi. I need to do better.

“Joonie, we’re here” Hoseok muses as he reaches the counter first, followed closely by Yoongi and I. The place is just as inviting and cozy as last time, with the smells of food and books slowly filling my lungs. I wonder if I’ll ever get to read here one day.

The giant man blinks, then glances at us at his mate’s call, and I get to feel my cheeks warm up all over again when he smiles radiantly as his eyes fall on us. He motions for us to be patient for a little minute as he finishes up with the current customer already being served at the counter.

While Hoseok swoons over his handsome mate from the counter he’s leaning his hip against, I turn my glance to the food in front of us.

“Are you going to try something different today?” Yoongi asks me as we gaze at the sandwiches, to which I answer with a small exhale, unsure of what I really want this time. I’m not particularly hungry, and eating a sandwich feels a bit much.

“I might go with something light? I don’t think I can handle heavy food right now, I’m still digesting last night’s dinner and this morning’s breakfast” I mumble with pursed lips, and I watch as he nods his head, feeling the same way.

“Yeah, same. I’ve been eyeing the salads, do you want to share again?”.

“Sounds good to me, why don’t we take two to get some variety?”.

“That’s exactly what I was going to offer”.

Hoseok openly observes us with a small smile as he stands on the sideline to gaze at the way we interact, and knowing that last night was a fun date for us makes his chest bloom with hundreds of pretty little flowers.

“What about you, Hoseok?” I ask, turning my gaze to him and not noticing the warmth in his creased eyes as anything other than friendship. “Will Namjoon sit with us again or will he be too busy for that today?”.

Before answering me, Hoseok cocks his head towards his tall mate to confirm something that they seem to have already talked about when the latter nods at us.

“I was hoping to sit with you, is that alright? Would you rather spend lunchtime with Hoseok alone this time?” the giant asks us with what appears to be a light of vulnerability in his eyes, as if our rejection to his presence would physically hurt him, something I find strange.

“Not at all, Namjoon, feel free to stay with us. It’s just that today appears to be busier than last time, that’s why I asked” I reassure as he comes closer from the other side of the counter, now done with the previous customer who takes a seat not too far from where we are with their date.

His shoulders relax, as do Hoseok’s, another detail that I find strange. What’s going on with them today?

“I’ll be fine, someone will cover for me. Do you know what you’ll have for lunch today?” he brings with ease the conversation towards the reason of our presence here, food, and I hum while pushing my wheels forward so I can have a closer look at all the different salads.

Some are with pasta, others with colourful leaves, or even entirely veggies. They all look delicious, but the amount of choices on top of not being that hungry keeps me from being able to decide what I want.

Yoongi crouches next to me, somehow sensing my discomfort, something that he appears to take to heart nowadays. “Do you want me to choose for you?”.

It’s like we switched positions from last time, a funny turn of events. Still, I appreciate his offer, so I nod. “Please, I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed right now” I admit, not recognizing how worrying that can be as the three witches share a concerned look.

“Anything we can do to help? Is it the environment? Too much noise?” Hoseok enquires as he makes one step closer to get more information, but I look up at him with a confused expression on my face, why all those questions?

“Hm? Not at all, Hoseok, everything’s just fine. Don’t worry”.

There’s a pattern there that Yoongi is starting to put together more and more, starting with the fact that sometimes, I don’t seem aware of how I feel at a particular moment despite sometimes saying it very clearly with words myself.

Then there’s my calculated avoidance, which he notices more often than not.

Hoseok looks at Yoongi, and I move my gaze from one to the other briefly before staring back at the salads in front of me while Namjoon stands in silence, observant to the sight in front of him, and more specifically to how I’m behaving.

I don’t look uncomfortable, but I don’t look comfortable either. He’s not sure what to make of this.

“Maybe something warm to drink could help” he offers after a few more heartbeats. That has me staring at the list of different drinks in front of me, and the teas catch my attention more than the others.

“Is there one tea in particular that you’d recommend, Namjoon?”.

He runs a hand through his messy grey hair before leaning almost half of his muscled body over the counter to have a look at what caught my gaze, and he hums before pointing at one of them despite the list looking upside down for him, either unaware of the blush his proximity brings to life, or he’s simply giving me a chance to not humiliate myself by ignoring it.

“There’s this one that I personally really like. It’s fruity, not too sweet, but not bitter either. I can add sweet milk if you want, but I think it’s the best when you leave it as it is”.

Well there you have it, this makes choosing much more simple for me. “As it is sounds perfect to me. I’ll have that one, please”.

He smiles at my answer, and he needs to fight against every single one of his urges when his fingers itch to feel and caress my cheek softly, which he successfully avoids by bringing his gaze back to Yoongi, another soul that he’d love to know better.

“The two of you were looking at the salads a moment ago, will you be sharing again?”.

Yoongi scratches the back of his neck, eyes still wandering over the different options before settling with two, which he points at for the shop owner. “Yes, we’re not that hungry so these will do. And if I could have a coffee on the side, that’d be nice, please”.

Hoseok joins the conversation by pointing at one of the croissant sandwiches, similar to what he took last time, but with a different filling. “And I’ll have that one, Joonie. No need to warm it up, though, cold will do”.

After writing down our orders on a notepaper for later, Namjoon sends us to the same table we sat at last week with a promise to be with us soon.

Honestly, it feels a little weird to be back here again. I had to tell them about my condition back then, after they saw my magick run out of control. I was slightly worried that their behaviour towards me would change, but there was no pitying from either men and that reassured me.

“How was your weekend, Hoseok? Did you do anything special with your mates?” I ask as we settle around the table, myself where a chair is missing, and the witch smiles softly as he turns his gaze my way.

“We stayed at home, actually. We cooked a few side dishes for the week, then watched movies and played games together. There was a new one that Jungkook really wanted us to play together, a new Mario Party. It was pretty fun”.

I make a sound at the mention of the game, I did hear about that once or twice. I myself had a look into the game console a few months ago, but the exorbitant price had me leaving the shop empty handed.

“That sounds like a fun weekend, I’m glad you enjoyed yourself with your coven” I muse, and Hoseok leans over the table, chin resting on his clasped hands as he stares expectantly at Yoongi and I.

“What about you two? Did you do something fun?”.

I immediately blush at his pointed question while Yoongi straightens up on his seat, a look of pride flashing across his face as he sees the look on my own.

“We had dinner together at a really good restaurant last night, then went for a movie at the cinema afterward. I think I can speak for the both of us when I say that we had a great time, and that we’d do it again should the opportunity present itself”.

Quickly nodding my head to let the man know that I’m on the same wavelength as him, Hoseok smiles widely, more than satisfied with what was said. Jin will be very happy to know that we liked our time at his restaurant.

“Yoongi made me feel like I was royalty, it was a new experience for me, but I liked it” I admit shyly just as Namjoon comes over with our food, and while he missed a good chunk of the conversation, he seems to know exactly what it is that we’re talking about when he chuckles.

“The restaurant’s dreamy terrace was decorated with that aspect in mind, I’m glad that you had a good time with the space to yourselves. I bet you both looked amazing”.

Yoongi and I glance at each other, we hadn’t mentioned the terrace, did we? And we didn’t say anything about having the space to ourselves either, so how did he know? Now that I think about it, Hoseok didn’t look surprised either, he rather looked like he already knew about it.

Seeming to catch on to their mistake, Hoseok’s smile falls a little, and he pulls on Namjoon’s rolled up sleeve to get him to sit down after he’s settled everything on the table for us, with the two salads and our drinks between Yoongi and I.

“Actually, Y/N, Yoongi, there was a reason as to why I invited you here today”.

Sensing the new seriousness of his tone, my heart begins a nervous beat while Yoongi doesn’t move a muscle, eyes on the two men who observe us with tensed postures that I would’ve found uncomfortable for them if I wasn’t tensed myself.

Namjoon takes Hoseok’s hand when the latter begins to tremble slightly, eyes alternating between staring at me and avoiding me whenever our gazes meet, and I’m not sure how I’m supposed to take that.

Have I done something wrong? Have I hurt him without knowing, and he needs Namjoon’s support to tell me because it would be too hard to do otherwise? He looked just fine earlier, happy as ever, but now… I can’t be sure of anything anymore.

My ice crystals softly slide against my fingers to ease my mind, but then dig into my palm to draw patterns that would soothe if it didn’t feel like a knife carving wood.

It’s painful, more than I can voice aloud, but at least it helps to distract me from the worst of my erratic heartbeat. It feels like a friendship is about to end, and it scares me. I really like Hoseok, but maybe it was just me and I misread everything.

“Gosh, I don’t know if there’s any right way to say this, so I’ll say it bluntly, okay?”.

I focus on the cold aching sensation that my magick causes as it spreads over the back of my hand, from the tip of my fingers to my wrist, eyes closing as if that might lower the pain of the rejection to come.

Why did he invite us with one of his beautiful smiles if it was only to put an end to what I thought was a blooming friendship between us?

“I thought the bond would eventually reach out to your magick, that you would one day feel it if I gave you enough time. But it never happened, and then Yoongi arrived, only to not feel the bond either despite the two of you living together. That’s when I knew that time wouldn’t change anything”.

Hoseok takes in a deep breath before finally blurting it out.

“You’re our mates, Y/N, Yoongi, the both of you”.

My eyes snap open, the shock so big that my magick dissipates from my hand right away to instead loom over my head with the same surprise that I currently feel in my heart, in my head and in my soul. What was that?

“I should’ve told you sooner, and I’m sorry that I took so long but-”

“Wait, wait a minute, Hoseok” I cut him off, feeling faint in my chair while Yoongi’s still as a statue, eyes round from the unexpected revelation. “This- you knew from the very beginning?” I ask him, and Hoseok nods, guilt visible all over his face as he looks down.

“I didn’t know what to do, or how to tell you. I was afraid that you wouldn’t believe me, we barely knew each other and you couldn’t feel our bond after all. So I waited, hoping that you’d eventually open yourself to what we had. But when I met Yoongi, when you said that you were without mates, that’s when I realized that it wouldn’t be that simple, and that we needed to do something ourselves”.

“The restaurant date, the terrace, it was our eldest mate who organized everything” Namjoon continues. “When he saw your names on the list of reservation, he worked hard so that everything would be perfect for your arrival. We thought we owed you at least a good evening while we thought about how to tell you the truth”.

“The restaurant’s owner… it was him” Yoongi murmurs, suddenly remembering what was said back then. He couldn’t be there, but he wished us a lovely evening. He knew, and that’s why we were given the special treatment.

Hoseok nods before glancing at me, concern and fear in his pretty eyes. “I’m sorry for never telling you sooner, Y/N, truly. I should’ve told you the first time I saw you, but instead I kept from you something so important during months”.

Unable to find what to say, I keep quiet as I try to make sense of everything.

From the very beginning, Hoseok has always been nice with me, which, as I learned later on, wasn’t the norms. He would always help and support me, and his smiles were warm unlike the way he would stare at others.

I often tried to understand why I was given his gentler side, if it was maybe out of pity, or if it was because he saw something in me that he couldn’t find in others. Knowing that he had a coven made me wary of any growing feelings towards him, but it was manageable, up to a certain degree.

Then months later, just as everything around me started to settle comfortably and without warning, I find out that I never had to close a door on those feelings to begin with because I was always meant to be by his side.

Yoongi… the only reason why he became my caregiver was because we both knew ourselves to be without mates. We’d done the tests and we’d received the results the next week. That was our undeniable reality.

We’d gone through the pain of coming to terms with the fact that we’d never have a coven of our own, that our home would never be filled with that kind of love and that we might actually have to live our whole life alone.

But we surprisingly found comfort in each other, relief in that it might be possible to find that love in one another instead, without having to feel like we were betraying anyone. I learned to appreciate having him near, even if sometimes he really annoys me to no end.

Then all of a sudden, I learn that he too is my mate, just as he’s learning that I am his. So suddenly, we’re finding out that fate had planned everything from the very beginning, that it brought us all together for a reason, so that it would lead to this very moment.

When Hoseok took us here last week, to Namjoon, it was because he had hopes that it might help to trigger something in the dormant bond, and since it didn’t, they had to come to terms with the fact that they’d have to tell us more directly the next time we’d meet.

Which led to today.

Feeling a headache rising within my skull, I silently pull back from the table to bring some distance between us, needing some space of my own to process everything. I stop next to the farthest bookshelf, then drop my head on my hands.

I’m not mad at Hoseok, not disappointed at anyone. I can understand how it might’ve been hard to deal with this situation, hard to figure out the best moves when that kind of thing doesn’t happen too often.

Silent bonds are not something we hear about, not something we’re taught happens, because it includes going into the subject of mental health and society would rather do anything to pretend like that doesn’t exist instead of trying to understand.

So why can I not feel the bond? It’s been months since Hoseok and I met, and it’s not like I’m against having mates, it was something that I in fact wished for, until the test results. If Hoseok feels the bond with Yoongi and I, if Namjoon feels it too, then why can’t we?

Someone crouches next to me, and I don’t need to open my eyes to know that it’s Yoongi, simply because I recognize his perfume, that and the comforting gentleness that always follows around him like an aura.

It must be shocking for him too, to hear the things that we did, but instead of focusing on that, here he is trying to take care of me as he rubs soothing motions onto my arm, his fire magick warming up my skin when he finds some remnants of my ice underneath.

He follows the trails left behind all the way to my fingers, and he softly takes my hand between his to warm it up. He wants to let me know that he understands how I feel, that he’s here with me, for me, so he squeezes lightly.

Thankful for him, I squeeze back just as softly, as the warmth of his magick works to soothe even the headache that was forming just a moment ago. I don’t know how he does that, how he always takes the aching away so easily, like it’s just second nature to him.

Is it the magick, or is it something more? I can’t tell anymore. Maybe the bond was always thrumming and alive between us, even if we couldn’t feel it.

“Is that better?” he asks after a few seconds of scanning my body for any ice crystals he might have forgotten, and when I nod my head, he exhales his relief and relaxes by my side, though he doesn’t let go of my hand yet.

For Yoongi, there’s the unmistakable joy of knowing that he wasn’t without mates after all that fills his soul. Joy of knowing that I am one of them, and that this growing love can not only remain, but be nurtured for what it is.

But then there’s also his anxiety that seems insistent on making him feel like he’s broken, because what’s wrong with him that kept him from feeling the bond? That made it so he couldn’t feel it with me, and not with either of the men he’s gotten to know through me?

Or from the very beginning, were there not, underneath it all, the smallest hints of an attraction towards them, the same that he felt towards me? Was there not a pull, one that was simply easier to brush off as nothing instead of digging deeper?

He doesn’t understand why that happened, but he wants to find out the cause until he can feel it too. He’ll make it so we can both feel it, just as we were always meant to.

“I feel like I was just given a birthday present ten years late, honestly” I finally speak up, his consistent touch helping me to calm down and to accept what was said more easily, it’s not like it was anything bad after all, it’s rather a joyous thing once the shock fades.

Hoseok is actually my mate, Yoongi is mine too, as is Namjoon, not to forget those from their coven whom I’ve yet to meet. There’s something comforting about this knowledge, because it can finally explain the feelings, the pull, the longing.

Yoongi chuckles softly, thumb gentle as it caresses over my hand. He feels more confident in showing his affection now and it’s liberating, in a way. He doesn’t have to pull back anymore, not if it’s with his mates. Is it wrong of him to think like that?

“I feel the same. I grew up all my life hearing that I’d never have mates, and then the tests confirmed the lack of bond and it felt like the universe had… forgotten me. Yet today I hear that it was never true, and that my not feeling the bond doesn’t mean it’s not there”.

I slowly open my eyes to meet his gaze, and his gentle and soft eyes crease slightly as he takes me in. “I’m glad I could experience what it feels like to fall in love with you before learning about the bond between us. I think that, too, is a gift, in its own way”.

A warmth spreads in my chest at those words, and I feel the smallest smile pull at my lips.

He’s right. That is indeed a beautiful gift we were granted. We got to appreciate the appearance of those warm feelings with a fated the natural way, and that is special and unique in its own right.

“That’s a beautiful way of seeing things, Yoongi. Maybe we were lucky, then” I muse back, to which he answers with a gummy smile that melts me right on the spot. That smile should be illegal, but I want to keep seeing it forever.

Looking over my shoulder to find Hoseok and Namjoon silently sat at the table and snuggled close as they wait has me taking in a deep breath, and Yoongi understands what this means without needing to hear me say it when he stands to give me space so I can turn my chair around.

Once at the table, he locks the brakes for me - since there’s no need to run away anymore - while I set my gaze on Hoseok who now stares at me with visible concern. It’s a good thing that we didn’t take any hot food for lunch, because it would’ve been cold by the time we eat.

I take a sip of the tea, finding that waiting has made it into the perfect temperature for drinking, and I hum softly before smiling at Namjoon. “You were right, the tea is very good”.

That has him smiling back, posture easing on his chair. “I’m glad you like it, dear. Shall we eat first before we continue this conversation? You don’t have to say anything about what was mentioned right away, I know that it’s a lot we just dropped on the two of you today”.

“No need to wait, Namjoon. I… It was very sudden, but it’s not… bad. It’s more of a relief, actually. To know that these feelings can finally be explained, though it’s also unnerving to know that I can’t feel a bond that would otherwise be very precious to me”.

Hoseok heaves a sigh of pure relief at those words, muscles losing of a tension that kept him rigid and uncomfortable. Namjoon pats his thigh before turning back to Yoongi and I.

“Actually, we have a mate who works with doctors specialized in bond anomalies, so he asked them about you. What came out the most was that silent bonds usually occur because of emotional trauma, usually after someone has experienced rejection. In their words, not being able to feel the bond could be explained by seeing it as the soul closing a door as to avoid more painful experiences”.

“That makes sense” Yoongi says after frowning at the table for a bit, we have indeed been through rejection in a way that could have caused emotional trauma, no matter its form and size. Both of our families betrayed us, made us feel unloved, and we suffered because of it.

“My parents kicked me out when I was still a teen because of a lie my brother told them about me, and I had to survive on my own from then on” he explains when Hoseok and Namjoon look at him with a puzzled expression that falls into outrage the very next second.

He shrugs lightly. “I don’t hate them for it anymore, it’s been a long time ago and I have moved on with my own life since, but I guess that could’ve caused a big enough trauma to block the bond, considering that the theory is right”.

When Yoongi turns his gaze to me, the two witches do the same, and I nervously pat a hand over my thigh, fingers dancing on the fabric of my pants while my magick creates a blanket over my shoulders. Cold to the touch, but warm to the heart.

“I told you last time about the day of my accident, but what I didn’t tell you was how my parents reacted after learning that I’d never be able to walk ever again. I remember the way my mother looked at me… like I was a doll that had outlived its time, while my father just… left without a word.

“It all happened so fast after that. They bought a house in Seoul, something about how it would be better adapted for my new condition, then shipped me there, and that was the end of it. They never answered my calls, never tried to contact me either, so I eventually gave up on trying”.

“That’s… terrible” Namjoon murmurs while Hoseok looks heartbroken. I did mention a bit of my relationship with my parents on the night that he drove me home, which is when he also met Yoongi for the first time, but he didn’t think it was that bad.

Two cases of rejection, and enough to create emotional trauma. The bond doctors must have been right.

“Is there a way to fix the silent bond?” Yoongi asks next, and Namjoon hums lightly, arms crossed over his built chest as he stares at the table.

“Well, as far as we know, there’s only one way available to us, which is why we figured it was time to tell you about the bond. The doctors believe that making you two fall in love with us might fix everything, that and meeting everyone else in our coven”.

Oh… I don’t know why I expected something more… magickal, but I guess it makes sense.

Namjoon smiles softly when he sees our shoulders droop a little. “I’m sorry that there are no more effective methods out there, but if you could give us a chance, I would love to make use of that opportunity to gain your love. That seems lovely to me”.

Feeling myself blush at his statement, I clear my throat while avoiding all of their gazes. “Well… seeing as it was harder to avoid crushing on you than it was to reach that point… I don’t think you’ll struggle too much”.

Namjoon blinks in surprise, only to beam into a proud grin, and Hoseok leans over the table with desperation in his eyes as he stares at me. “What about me? Did you ever… do you think it could be possible to love me? It’s been longer since we met and-”

He stops talking when he tentatively opens his senses to my emotions, and my blush gains in intensity, something hard to fight when I suddenly remember the feeling of his body against mine when he’d helped me into the car that night.

My heart had pulsed with strength, and while I’d done my best to ignore it, there are things harder to do than others.

“That won’t be a problem” I admit shyly, body burning with the embarrassment of having to speak such words to the same people whom I thought I could never love. They certainly won’t find it too hard to make me fall, because I’ve been standing on the precipice already.

“Oh thank goodness, you- oh you have no idea how happy that makes me. I was so scared that you’d struggle with me since we’ve worked together for months now, you’ve known about my coven from the very beginning” he confesses with a hand over his face, as if doing so might help him to get rid of those unwanted fears once and for all.

Namjoon smiles at him, then at Yoongi and I. “It’s a relief to know that we can finally move forward with the bond, now that you know. Some of us couldn’t sleep all night because we didn’t know how today would go, and I was one of them”.

Hoseok emits a small chuckle, eyes now glassy with his overwhelming joy, it shows me just how scared he was, and how much he cares.

“If it was up to me, I’d invite you over to meet our coven tonight after work, but that would be moving too fast, right?” he asks softly, only to sigh when Namjoon shoots him a gentle look with a hand over his shoulder.

“Let’s give them some time, babe. They just learned that they’re each other’s mates, I think they deserve to explore their bond before they meet everyone, not to mention that the week just began. Maybe we can invite you over for dinner on Friday instead?”.

I look at Yoongi, eyes blinking softly as he smiles blissfully, the shimmer in his eyes so pretty that my mind briefly blanks from awe. Has he gotten more beautiful in the short amount that we’ve been here or is it just me?

“Friday sounds good” he answers for us, his eyes still on me. “I would indeed like to make use of this week to explore that new reality of ours, if she would accept to do so with me. Being mates changes a lot of things about our current arrangement”.

I purse my lips warily at that. “Are you dropping out of the work contract already?”.

He chuckles with a deep rasp that makes me flush and pout.

“Of course not, why would I when that contract allows me to stay by your side? I like being your caregiver, the bond won’t change that. I only meant to say that I don’t want to see you only as my client anymore, the same way that I don’t want you to see me only as an employee anymore”.

I make a shy o with my lips, then look away with a barely hidden smile that speaks of my joy and relief, only now remembering that Hoseok and Namjoon are staring with interest, both of their chins rested on their hands.

“I love seeing the way you interact with each other” Hoseok finally muses with creased eyes and a heart shaped smile. “It’s special, because your bond grew stronger, not because fate decided so, but because you found a common ground that keeps you afloat over the unruly ocean”.

Feeling proud, Yoongi pulls his coffee closer to warm it up with his magick, after which he takes a sip. His heart feels so happy today that he could easily believe it’s Christmas. He was given the most beautiful present life could offer him after all.

“I think so too. I wasn’t sure what would happen while living with her, but I’ve been loving every minutes of every day. We’ve had fights, of course, but I think they managed to bring us closer so I don’t resent them. It helped me to understand her better, and Y/N to see that I’m on her side, rather than against her”.

“I would like to remind that you’re still annoying when you set your mind to it, Yoongi” I grumble in the face of his endless positivism. “I know you’re on my side but sometimes… you force me to acknowledge things that I prefer to ignore, and that’s not cool”.

“I said I wanted you to see me as a mate, not that I’m not your caregiver anymore, Y/N. For as long as that contract exists, it’s my job to make sure you do everything you’re supposed to do. You’re not avoiding those exercises, I see you”.

Hoseok and Namjoon grin at the sight that we make, and I take a sip of my turned-cold tea with a unhappy frown. “You’re not fair” I utter as the cold liquid flows down nicely, and he snorts in amusement, not in the least bothered by my behaviour. He thinks it’s cute.

I take another sip of my tea to calm down, there’s no need to get angry now. My magick naturally drops an ice cube into the liquid to make it into the perfect iced tea, and its little splash earns me the three men’s attention in the span of a second.

I try to pretend like nothing happened, but Yoongi rolls his eyes before shaking his head. “We all heard that” he says, but I tilt my head as innocently as I can manage. How dare he point out my harmless bit of luxury like this?

“Whatever makes you say that, Yoongi? I was just drinking my tea and minding my own business, as you should”.

Namjoon covers his mouth with a hand just in time to muffle the snort that leaves him, and Hoseok is not faring any better while Yoongi stares at me, lips parted at the offense directed at him. “Well I ought to melt that ice if you’re going to speak to me that way”.

I quickly move my cup away from him when he makes a threatening movement towards me, and I swear when my locked chair keeps me from fleeing as he stands with a large, gummy smirk that means danger.

“No, Yoongi. Not my tea, I just had a tiny cube of ice made that’s all-” I try to make peace with him before he pounces, but I end up screaming instead when he suddenly decides to punish me with tickles, my cup quickly taken from me by Namjoon when I squirm and twist on my chair in laughter.

“You want to say that again for me? Do I need to mind my own business, now?” he asks teasingly, finding his own amusement in rendering me speechless, tears strolling down my cheeks at this torture that sees no end, he will kill me if he doesn’t stop soon!

Namjoon and Hoseok sigh in contentment, then begin eating their food in peace while their two newest mates playfully strengthen their bond before their very eyes. What a special show they’re given on this good day.

“Y-Yoongi! You monster, s-stop!”.

“But I’m just minding my own business! Whatever are you talking about, Y/N?”.

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agusfree · 9 months ago

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THE CHOICES THAT WE MAKE

HUMAN/HYBRID! BTS X HUMAN! READER SOULMATES/HYBRIDS/ANGST AU

Chapter 25 (3.8k words)

For more information about this story, find it here

A few days go by following the meeting with my soulmates, during which we work on the mansion at a steady pace, and there are times when I'm left alone at the penthouse while San takes a few of them for their intensive training.

Where, I have no idea, but I'm guessing he's renting a studio somewhere nearby. It's also never the seven of them at the same time, as it allows him to better focus on each of them during the few hours that the training lasts.

While I have never seen it in person, I have an idea of how demanding it must be when Yoongi always comes back looking half-dead, takes a quick shower before crashing into bed for a night sleep that might as well be a full-on coma.

I can tell that he's giving it his all, just like everyone else, and San always has a word of praise for them. He says that they're very good students and that he rarely has to repeat himself, which really surprised him at first.

Seokjin is revealing himself to be rather sneaky in his counter-attacks, while Namjoon and Jungkook are more straightforward. As for Yoongi, he can't really explain his fighting style yet, but he says that it's got potential.

Jimin and Taehyung have a similar style that is their own, while Hoseok seems to be a mix of Yoongi and Seokjin in many ways. He hasn't said more, but I could see that he's truly impressed, and that made me proud. Worried, but proud.

Despite the abrupt changes in his life, Yoongi has settled in quite nicely since we finished his bedroom, and I can see that he's slowly beginning to feel more at ease when I sometimes see him edge closer whenever we sit in the living room to relax.

All of them have had to settle into a very different way of living, all of them are diligently learning how to keep both me and themselves safe into this world of mine that is slowly engulfing them alive, and it's got me wondering why San never offered to teach me too.

It's not like I'd be a bad student, I can learn too, and if I know how to defend myself, then wouldn't that make everyone feel better?

"It's not that simple" San answers when I finally voice my question aloud at the end of a long day, and I frown with my hands on my hips, unable to accept that unless he explains himself. He sighs when he sees that I'm going to be stubborn about it.

Yoongi's standing behind one of the couches in his fuzzy pyjama, his wet hair tickling his ears until he carefully dries the strands with the soft towel, his eyes on us as he feels the tension rise like a wall of dust buzzing against his skin.

"What's not simple, San? Am I that hopeless in your eyes? Do you think I can't learn anything?" I let out coldly, why does he never give me a chance to prove myself?

Is my brain the only good thing about me? Is there no other way I can help them? Surely there has to be something I can do, a way to support everyone in whatever this life of ours is becoming. If they can, then so can I.

"It's not- damn it. I just don't want you to get hurt, okay?" he barks out before turning around to slide a hand against his face.

"These trainings are harsh, and my job is to protect you. That means keeping you from getting wounded, or making sure that you don't overwork, or that you get a full night of sleep, which you make very hard to do for me at times. Learning how to fight isn't something you need to do".

"San, your job is to protect me, and that is exactly what you'd do by helping me to protect myself!" I exclaim with exasperation, "isn't it better that I get hurt but get stronger, than if I remain weak and vulnerable? You won't be able to prevent everything forever".

His fists clench at his sides, back still turned to me, but the annoyed left and right motions of his tail tells me everything I need to know. He's not going to change his mind about this, and I huff in disappointment, feeling angry at him for denying me something that I consider important.

"You're not going to try to understand my point of view, are you?" I ask him, not expecting for him to answer.

My soulmates are drastically adjusting their way of living because of me, they are being trained by an assassin because of me, they are sweating, bleeding and shedding tears because they want to become strong enough to protect me, but I can't do the same?

"These are the kind of situations that make me really hate you, San" I utter under my breath. "You ignore my opinion because you think you know better, and then you shut every doors in my face when in reality, you're just scared. If you don't teach me, I'll find someone else to do it instead".

I give him enough time to reply, to say anything, to deny or confirm what I just said, but when he remains exactly where he is, back turned to me and ignoring me, I rush past Yoongi to reach my bedroom, door slamming behind me in anger.

I stand in the middle of the room for a moment, then grab a pillow from the bed that I throw against the wall, then another one.

My chest rises and falls harshly with every breaths I take, frustration acting like a wildfire as it spreads all over my skin until it reaches my bones, filling me with a rage that I can't get rid of because I don't know how.

How does it make sense that I should rely forever on others to not get hurt? What if our positions are reversed one day, and I'm the only one who can protect them? What happens then if I can't even throw one good punch?

I kick the pillow at my feet, then sit on my bed, hunched forward and feeling powerless. Seeing my soulmates work so hard while I just sit and wait everyday... I don't like that at all.

Namjoon left his job as a police officer after he learned of San's offer to train them, something about how he wouldn't be able to work as well as he used to now that I'm here anyway, that he doesn't need the resources anymore since I'm back.

Jungkook is doing one last week before dropping his job at the firm too, because he'd rather stay by my side than worry all day about whether I'm safe or not.

He seemed to like his job, or at least he was proud of it, but following the conversation with San that last time, he's decided that he would - in his words - become my bulletproof vest and protect me, just like Yoongi.

Namjoon then asked for the same thing, and I could only stare as San confirmed everything with them. As for Seokjin, he too hesitated for a very long time about whether he should leave his job, but ultimately voted against doing the same.

He likes his department and he gets to be near me, so he didn't really see a reason to leave. I heard from his supervisor that he's very good at what he does and that the entire team adores him, so that made me incredibly happy for him.

The same goes for Hoseok too, and that was a huge relief, but they're bound to get exhausted because of me if this keeps going and that, I don't feel okay with. I never meant for them to work so hard for my sake, and I'd kick myself for not thinking of that sooner if I could.

I was so stupid for thinking that Hae-in would let me go that easily, this man who never lets go of his obsessions, even when they're broken. How could I be so dumb as to believe that he'd stay out of my life from now on? He only said that he'd release me from the debts, not that he'd release me.

He never said anything about us never seeing each other again, he only gave me the opportunity to do the work I wanted instead of going all over the country all the time. If I think about it... nothing has changed about my situation, if only for the fact that we do not live under the same roof anymore.

He still gets profit from my work, and there are probably more eyes on me than I can currently feel, people who report my every moves to him every single day. Would he hurt my soulmates if he ever gets tired of seeing them by my side?

That scares me so much.

What if allowing them back in my life was a bad move on my part? What if I just condemned the men that own my heart to a miserable life? What if they die because of me? What if rejecting them all those years ago was for nothing?

A soft knock on the door puts that thought on hold, and I look up just in time to see it open to Yoongi, lips pursed when he finds me hunched over on the edge of the bed with a sad gleam in my eyes. He closes it behind him, then reaches my side in silence.

"Can I sit?".

Nodding my head, he hums before lowering himself on the free space beside me, closer than usual when his shoulder brushes against mine, the warmth of our hips almost touching. His tail rests between us, calm and all soft-looking.

"I'm sorry that you had to see that, Yoongi, I'm not usually like this" I eventually mumble in the silence that stretches between us, as his eyes take in the large artwork on the wall that's now crooked with the pillows underneath it. It's obvious that I threw them there.

"I found that you both looked a little like siblings at that moment, you know? There's the older brother who just wants to protect his precious little sister, while all she wants to do is to help, to not weigh him down".

I bite on the inside of my cheek at that, eyes looking down at my hands over my lap. "Well he's a dumb older brother" I grumble. "Not as bad as my real brother, of course, but still dumb".

Yoongi chuckles softly.

"An overthinking older brother, perhaps, but not dumb. I can't speak like I know everything, but I imagine that constantly being on the lookout for danger whenever the two of you are somewhere outside must be incredibly stressful, and having to keep your mates safe on top of everything adds to it, I'm sure".

He gently grabs my hand and holds it tightly between his own.

"I understand your frustration. It's normal to feel the way you do when you see everyone working so hard around you, just know that... he feels the same. Don't be too harsh on him, give him some time, and I'm sure he'll eventually change his mind, when he's got less on his shoulders. If he doesn't, then I'll teach you what I know myself, me and the others, but not before we're better at this".

His soothing voice just saps all the anger out of me, and I melt before resting my head on his strong shoulder. Instead of flinching away, he wraps an arm around me to pull me closer, cheek pressed against the crown of my head as he sighs.

"Don't feel too bad about what's happening. The training is arduous, that's true, but it's also very fulfilling. We're all seeing quick progress thanks to San, and while it's still too early to say that, I know that there will come a day when we can protect you just as well as he does. He won't be so tensed then, but for now, he has to think about so many things that even I couldn't handle with a clear mind".

I close my eyes, then think back to all that San has always done for my sake. Things that I've learned to take for granted, because he always makes it look so easy. But it's true that without even realizing it, I put a lot on his shoulders.

Have I ever given him a break? Have I ever allowed him to rest for a day? I don't think I have, because I don't allow myself that much rest either. I keep myself busy all the time, and because of that, he has to keep an eye on me even when he's tired.

He drives me wherever I want to go, he works harder than anyone I know on top of supporting me in my own work, he makes sure I'm never left in need of anything under his watch, and now he's also working on the mansion with us, with the different trainings for my soulmates late into the night.

How could one person not get overwhelmed by all those things?

"I'm a terrible person" I finally blurt out, voice filled with regret. "I never took the time to see what I was asking of him, never thought to see how busy he is, and yet I got angry when he refused to do more. I am a selfish, entitled woman".

Yoongi doesn't say anything, but he caresses my arm, body swaying us side to side ever so gently.

"I'm so used to having everything I want done in the blink of an eye, that I end up acting really spoiled when I meet a wall" I continue, a soft huff as I come to terms with what I've done. "So many opened doors everywhere, but I get mad because the specific one I want is locked".

I lift my head from Yoongi's shoulder to stare at him with ashamed eyes.

"God, Yoongi. I told him that I hate him".

His eyes crease softly, and he pushes back some hair out of my face with his free hand. "Don't you think he would like to hear from you that you didn't mean it?".

That's all he needs to say to get me up on my feet, and I immediately know where to find him when I see the light from underneath his bedroom's door. I stand still for a minute, heart nervously beating in my chest, until I finally knock on it.

All movements from within come to a stop, and for a second, I wonder if he's going to ignore me again. But the door opens to his passive face, and he steps aside to allow me in, just like always, because San never keeps a door closed unless he believes it's for the best.

He leads me to the little seating area in the corner of the room, right by his bed, and I feel my soul drop when I find the two cups of tea waiting for us, freshly made when I find the steam rising from both drinks.

Feeling a lump in my throat, I follow behind him until we're sat next to each other, and I silently accept the mug he gives me while he holds his own over his knees.

I came knowing what needed to be done, but now that I'm here, I'm missing the words to express myself.

There's so much I should say, so much to apologize about. I speak about giving the ideal life to hybrids, and yet, for all this time, what have I offered to San? Nothing, if not a huge load of constant work that never ends.

He's given his life to serve me willingly, he's giving all of his free time away into making sure that my soulmates don't fall to Hae-in's hands, and yet I dared to ask more of him, and got angry when he established a boundary.

I'm no better than Hae-in, then. I'm doing exactly the same thing he used to, the only difference here being that I don't need to ask San anything for him to do it. Allowing this to happen is how I participated, and I'm ashamed of myself.

"I'm sorry, San" I murmur softly, lips pinched together to try and keep in the tears, I'm done with crying for a century. "I didn't mean it when I said that I hate you, and I shouldn't have said what I did knowing that if there's one person here who truly cares about my well-being, it's you. I'm sorry".

I inhale angrily when the tears begin to flow anyway, and I wipe them with the back of my hand.

"I feel useless because you're all working hard, and I feel awful because I'm just now seeing how much weight I'm forcing onto your shoulders. You're doing everything you can to allow me the life that I want, and I thank you by getting mad" I continue, voice trembling as I wipe more tears off my skin, damn it.

"I don't get it, San. You have nothing to gain from doing so much for me, do you? You could've left me alone after we left Hae-in, you could've disappeared and finally live a life for yourself, but instead, you're giving me your everything without asking for anything back. That makes me just like him and-"

He puts the mug on the table with a loud sound at that, then mine, which cuts short what I was saying, and I stare at him with a quivering chin that he eventually holds together by cupping it with one hand, which he uses to keep my face up so I don't look away.

"I have told you before, and I always will. You are not like him, Y/N. I have chosen to remain by your side because it is where I want to be. I don't care how much work I have to do, that's the least of my concern, but a life without you? Now, that's a real fucking nightmare".

San stares at me with a hard frown, though his expression starts to crack slightly the more he feels me quiver. There's pain in his gaze, one that shares my own. His hand is gentle on my face, and he catches a few tears with his thumb.

"You have no idea how miserable I was before you. My hands were covered in blood all the time and I felt lifeless inside. There was no point for me to keep living, and I was just waiting for the time when someone would finally offer me mercy in an honorable way".

He shakes his head, eyes searching into my own with a smile of disbelief. "But you, Y/N, you just cleaned those dirty hands. You took a damp towel, and you cleaned off the blood. While everyone else was busy doing their own things, you held me in your arms and hugged me until I stopped shivering".

I remember... it was only a few days after I had to break the soul bond. I'd watched as a group of men came back from a mission in laughter, they just kept congratulating themselves for having killed a family that were bothering them, but San wasn't sharing their joy.

Rather, he looked broken. He had the eyes of someone who'd seen something terrible, something he could never forget, no matter how hard he'd try. It felt instinctive to me when I cared for him, because he looked like he needed it, but I hadn't realized the impact this moment would have on him.

"That gave me the strength to keep living, because I knew that upon coming back, someone would wait for me. I helped in your kidnapping but for some reason, you kept looking for me, always staying close like you needed me. That warmed something in my cold heart, and then I just knew that if I died, you'd have no one left to stay by your side. That rose me from the dead, Y/N, you did that".

He furrows his brows when I hiccup a small sob, not liking that sound in the slightest. It had been so long since he'd last heard me cry like this, but it's been happening often since my mates came back, hasn't it?

"You think that you're like Hae-in, but you couldn't be any more wrong. You are light, a home in the darkness. You are fire, melting any ice that closes around my heart, but most of all, you are love. You welcome people in with open arms, with a smile that never wavers, and you give that warmth to anyone in need of it, without any exception. You did it for me, and you did it for so many others".

Now a crying mess, San pulls me into a tight hug, his own eyes burning with unshed tears.

He's never been so open about his feelings until now, never was one to share something so personal in all the years that I've known him, and it feels like receiving a love bomb right in the center of my soul, like glitters thrown all over a carpet.

There's no getting rid of them now, just like this will forever comfort me.

"You're the family that I never had. You're a sister, a daughter, a friend, you're so precious to me. I don't care if you get mad at me, or if you say things that you don't mean because you're left disappointed. You could scream all you want and I would never resent you for it" he muses softly as he rubs soothing motions over my back.

"Your childhood was taken from you so abruptly, so let me be that for you. Let me frustrate you, and annoy you, let me receive that anger, those spoiled pouts and tantrums, then let me reassure you like this. Life isn't only one side of a coin, there are two, and I want to experience them with you. The good and the bad".

Unable to say anything, I hug him with all of my might as I cry, and he holds me through it until the end, nothing more needing to be said when he finally could get it all out. All the words that he always thought, but never felt he could speak, now out in the open. It feels good.

Yoongi smiles from the other side of the door, then pushes himself off the wall before heading to bed for the night, tail swaying behind him in contentment.

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agusfree · 9 months ago

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do u know???!! Latibule Spinoff: Elysian is my favorite spinoff of latibule!!! the push in pull between mc and jin is so cute!!! Poor jinnie does not even reAlize how he had fallen for her already!!! hope to see more updates!! but no rush!! thank u for the great chapter!!!

Latibule Spinoff: Elysian

Pairing: Doctor/Mafia!Kim Seokjin x Intern!Reader

Warnings: Yandere behavior, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: If you like this, kindly consider reblogging

Masterlist, Part III of __

The drive back to the hospital was blurry to Seokjin. He reminded himself to give Yoongi a call, after all, he did break a lot of traffic rules and regulations just to arrive at the hospital to…why exactly? Why was he so adamant on driving back to the hospital in such a hurry? What was he to do once he saw the reason for his misery?

What exactly was he to do once he got to you? Once he saw you? And what if you didn’t want anything to do with him anymore?

He didn’t have to think long because there you were- smiling so sweetly at the hospital staff, your absence definitely felt not just by him. Everyone noted your absence. You were the sunshine of the hospital and when you left, he felt…unbelievably cold. Nothing was right in his world and he even found a pimple on his glorious forehead this morning! The audacity of such thing to grow on his otherwise lovely and godly face! All because he stayed up all night tossing and turning! It was all because of you that he wasn’t getting his beauty sleep!

He almost believed that he was really affected by your absence, and he wasn’t…was he???

“Oh, Doctor Kim! You’re back!”

He blinked when he heard his staff greeted him, her eyes holding confusion at his sudden appearance. Seokjin understood her, though. After all, he just left not more than an hour ago. He should be at home resting his beautiful face.

He watched as your back stiffened before slowly, and Gods, ever so slowly turned to him. For the life of him, he didn’t know why his breath hitched when you met his eyes. Or why his heart beat faster when he could finally see you. Or why his heart felt uncomfortable when you left.

Was he experiencing a minor myocardial infarction?!

And heavens, why did his cheeks feel a lot warmer when you smiled at him?! Did he now have to pay his dermatologist a visit?!

“Do you need anything, Doctor Kim?” his staff asked him to break the silence when enough moment had passed and yet, the hospital’s director was merely looking at you.

Kim Seokjin finally blinked, wrenching his eyes from your beautiful ones. Your eyes seemed so soulful. He didn’t know why there was a sudden fluttering in his heart, and he did not care to know why at the moment. Instead, he cleared his throat, his gaze briefly dropping on the table of his staff. “I…left my pen.”

“Your pen,” you repeated with a heavy tone of confusion and disbelief.

And there it was, your first words to him after your week-long absence. He was such an idiot, he thought. In his beautiful life, he never thought he would be reduced to calling himself an idiot when he was brilliant! He was always the top in his classes! He was always quoted in the medical research for his intelligence! He was so clever and for the life of him, he didn’t know why he blurted out that sorry excuse.

But there was no way to get himself out of the hole he dug. “Yup. And look, there it is!” he leaned in to grab the pink and glittery hello kitty pen from the staff’s table. “It has sentimental value,” he murmured as though it was all it took to explain the bizarreness of his presence. “I don’t feel comfortable being without it.”

His staff frowned, her mouth opening to protest. “Sir, that’s my daughter’s-”

“Anyway, now that my presence is perfectly explained,” he quipped up and effectively cutting of his staff, he clapped his hand once before turning his full attention on you, completely ignoring the other person. “Where have you been?”

“I’m sorry?” your head tilted at what you heard. Did you hear him right? Never once did he ask you anything, so why start now?

You looked up at his expressive eyes, his plump lips hanging agape as he grappled for words to explain his unusual question. “I-I mean, the hospital is so understaffed and as the chief, it is my responsibility to make sure that this institution runs smoothly. After all, lives depend on us.”

“Sir, my leave was approved by my direct superior,” you said, trying to reason calmly at him.

“But still, one week is still too long. Next time, don’t be gone for a whole week,” he replied back with an air of finality that you definitely did not appreciate. In your barely restrained annoyance, you walked ahead and pushed the elevator button a little too hard before turning to him. You took a deep breath as he only looked down at you, the ridiculous hello kitty pen still clutched in his hand.

“Doctor Kim,” you started with an emphasis to his title. “I’ve only ever been gone one week a year. One. I work even when I’m sick, I attend to my patients even when it’s holiday, even when it’s my birthday, even during the death anniversary of my parents, or even when I’m not scheduled to be at the hospital. Never once did I careless about any of my patients. So please, don’t make it seem like I don’t care.”

“That’s not what I meant-“

“But that’s what you’re implying, Sir,” you snapped back, locking eyes with him, a resolute expression on your face. He didn’t like it, he realized later on. He had grown accustomed to your soft gaze, accustomed to your face lighting up when you looked at him. And now that you were looking at him with the absence of what he was used to, it didn’t sit right with him.

Kim Seokjin would later on realized that he had always ever wanted you to look at him like that, with that undeniable focus and intensity, solely for him.

You averted your gaze away from his as soon as the elevator bell chimed. You were resolute on entering the elevator and getting away from his vicinity when it opened, revealing a patient along with several nurses and doctors bustling to exit and you were on the verge of being caught in the commotion. You were about to get hit when Seokjin encircled your wrist, swiftly pulling you away from the oncoming gurney pushed by the rushing nurses. His hold on your wrist was firm and your brows inevitably pulled together, a flash of pain passing through your face.

None of that went unnoticed by Seokjin.

Seokjin frowned, his eyes trained on your wrist covered by your white coat while you were watching as they hurried to the operating room. He knew he didn’t pull that hard, too aware of his own strength and too unaware of his desire to never hurt you. You didn’t even feel when he pulled up your sleeve. He did it so softly, a glaring proof how terrified he was of further bringing pain on you, regardless of how he never meant to.

And there they were.

Several bruises of varying intensity marked your beautiful skin. Scattered on your forearms were day-old scrapes that looked like they had started healing after causing you pain.

Seokjin's heart clenched with a mix of remorse and an anger that surged within him, fierce and unbridled.

You finally noticed him when the nurses passed, the gentle way he was holding you was too contrast on how hard his jaw was clenched, his face almost impassive as he glared down at your scrapes and bruises as though they offended him. Your eyes widened as your injuries were exposed to his eyes that you pulled your arm away from his grasp. A silent acknowledgment passed between you, recognizing that he had allowed the release only because his grip had been secure.

“I-I have to go, Doctor Kim,” you couldn’t even meet his eyes as you bade him goodbye. His intensity, a stark departure from his usual demeanor of avoidance, left you unsettled. The memory of his comical attempt to escape you in the hospital lobby flashed in your mind, highlighting the irony of the current situation.

Literally.

He ran away from you once in the hospital lobby and there were several witnesses as the Chief ran as though there was an emergency.

You were about to enter the elevator when he spoke, his voice emotionless, his eyes bore into you with an unsettling coldness. And you could have sworn right then and there that he was an entirely different person that day.

“Who did this to you?”

The question hung in the air, laden with an ominous weight. In that moment, the stark transformation in Seokjin left you grappling with the realization that beneath the goofy and childlike facade you had come to know, there existed a man capable of chilling intensity and a protective instinct that seemed poised to unravel a hidden side of him you had never witnessed before.

You averted your eyes before letting out an awkward chuckle, hyperaware of the eyes on the two of you. “Don’t worry about them.”

It was apparent that that was not good enough explanation for him and you found yourself gulping from the force of his eyes that you were left no choice but to supplement your explanation. The words tumbled out in a hurried confession, “I was cleaning my house, lifting those boxes when I missed my step and fell down the stairs, okay?”

For a moment, Seokjin blinked, and in that subtle shift, the cold intensity dissipated, replaced by a flicker of understanding. There it was—the familiar Seokjin, the one you knew. The tension in the air lifted, and as his features softened, you couldn't help but marvel at the duality that existed within him.

He let out a soft sigh, before taking your wrist in his hand. He looked down at the bruises with heaviness and a touch of sadness in his eyes, his thumb softly running back and forth on them as though he could sooth them.

As though he could take the pain away and make it his own. And in that very moment, Seokjin knew that that was what he wanted- and that strangely, he never wanted to see you in pain. Without a word and uncaring of anyone that was looking at the two of you, he pulled you to his office.

---

“This is really unnecessary, Doc,” you winced as he gently put cream on your healing wounds, his face that of concentration as he sat in front of you.

You found yourself in an uncharted territory. You had never been this close to him knowing full well hat your attraction to him was one-sided. While it was fun for you to chase him around the hospital, you knew there could be nothing more to it. The line between lighthearted pursuit and genuine emotion was a boundary you were careful not to cross. There could be nothing more to it, you reasoned, convinced that your damaged self wasn't fit to be with someone as seemingly perfect as he was.

You knew where you stood.

“Y/N,” he spoke with a kind voice, his eyes still trained on his task. “Can I ask a favor from you?”

“Of course!”

It took a moment for him to answer, and he only did once he deemed his task complete and flawless. Gently, he reached for your sleeves, pulling them down with a delicate touch. His beautiful eyes met yours, a sincerity in his gaze that tugged at the edges of your guarded heart. “Can you please not get hurt anymore?”

The simple plea hung in the air, laced with a genuine concern that touched the depths of your soul. In that moment, the walls you had carefully constructed around your emotions quivered. His earnest request left you grappling with the realization that, perhaps, the line you had drawn between you and Seokjin wasn't as rigid as you had thought.

You wanted to cry, you thought. No one had ever cared if you got hurt. Not once. And here stood the perfect angel you perceived him to be, asking you to not be hurt anymore.

And so, for the first time, you lied to him.

You flashed him a faux smile, fronting your, nodding your head as you said, “I promise, Doctor. Wouldn’t want to disappoint the most handsome man in this hospital.”

His blush was definitely worth it, though.

---

“What are you even doing here?!” Kim Seokjin finally had it here and shouted as he heard Jungkook sighed so loudly again for the twelfth time and he could no longer focused on the research paper he was reading! He was even sure that his secretary outside could hear him behind the wall.

This was such a waste of time, he thought. Their golden maknae was wasting his time when he should have been done with this an hour ago.

“I’m just existing here, hyung. Go back to your work,” he mumbled from his position faced-down on the couch.

“You’re existing so loudly!”

Jungkook suddenly sat up, turning to face his hyung with an indignant expression, “Ah, so when you were the one pestering me in my office, it’s okay? But when it’s me, it’s not?!”

Seokjin responded with a smirk, a touch of mischief in his eyes. "Exactly!"

“How does that make sense! That is hypocritical and I’m going to sue you!”

“Dibs on Namjoon as my lawyer!”

“You can’t just call dibs!”

“I just did!”

“Well, Namjoon hyung likes me more!”

“Are you sure?! Or it’s you that like him more?!”

“You-“

Their banter was abruptly interrupted by a knock on the door. Both heads turned towards the entrance, watching as the door slowly opened, revealing you. Your eyes shifted between the two handsome men, assessing the situation that seemed like a mid-battle exchange.

“Am I interrupting?”

Seokjin's demeanor shifted almost imperceptibly, a master at maintaining composure. He flashed you a reassuring smile, only to shoot Jungkook a discreet glare when your attention was diverted.

“No. Everything is good,” Seokjin affirmed, keeping his smile intact while subtly warning Jungkook with his eyes. The unspoken tension lingered in the air, leaving you to wonder if you had just stumbled into the aftermath of a friendly dispute or something more significant. “Do you need anything?”

You blinked before showing him the form you needed him to sign. He smiled as he gestured for you to come in. He was looking over the form as Jungkook observed you.

It was you, he noted. He was sure it was you that was making his hyung lose his mind little by little. His mischievous side won and he stood up, walking to you with his hand outstretched.

“Hi, I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Jeon Jungkook, his little brother,” he introduced himself. You shook his hand once, smiling at the polite and charming man.

“I’m Doctor Y/N, nice to meet you.”

And then out of nowhere, Jungkook said the most absurd lie Seokjin ever heard him say. “It’s my birthday today. Eat dinner with us?”

“Jeon Jungkook!”

---

You and Seokjin walked behind Jungkook as he skipped merrily to one of his favorite restaurants, the streetside stall that he passionately swore served the best grilled pork. The randomness of the situation left you questioning how you ended up here, but it was undeniable that saying no to Jungkook and his enchanting doe eyes was practically impossible.

“You don’t have to be here if you don’t want to,” Seokjin mentioned casually beside you. His hands were in his slacks, his eyes trained ahead. He was matching your steps, your surmised.

“Do you not want me to be here?” you asked in that small moment of courage. You looked on the other side, your heart skipping a beat from the anticipation of his answer as you watched the flow of traffic. Silence reigned for so long that you were sure he wasn’t going to answer, or if he was, you were sure that he was going to gently turn you down once again.

You were waiting for the blunt from his kind rejection, yet this time, it didn’t come. The air remained pregnant with unspoken words, and for a moment, you were suspended in the quiet tension until he said something that made you fall for him just a little bit deeper.

“I want you here.”

The shocked from his words left you reeling that you stopped walking altogether just to stare at his broad back. He hadn’t noticed yet that you stopped walking until he was few steps ahead of you. He frowned before turning back to look at you.

And that moment, a genuine smile spread across your face as you noticed telltale hint of red on his ears. The man couldn’t even meet your eyes, instead, his simple admission reduced him to blushing man that shuffled from foot to foot.

Uh oh.

You were in big trouble.

You were surely and slowly falling for Kim Seokjin. And this time, it was beyond a harmless crush.

You were, as the folks said, fucked.

376 notes · View notes

agusfree · 10 months ago

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I LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS!!!!!! THE ANGST!!!! THE FUCKING FLUFF!!!!! MY HEARTS GONNA BURST BECAUSE OF THIS CHAPTER!!!!

broken, pt. 2 (3tan) (m) | myg

title: broken (pt. 2) pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series:masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted | broken (pt. 1) rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: the championship game lights up... and everything goes down. note: not too much to say other than thank you. this part is definitely another very, very close one to my heart. please buckle up and enjoy the ride. warnings: [spice warnings under the cut] language, angst, tension, alcohol mention & consumption, fights, basketball!yoongi🧍‍♀️, cocky!yoongi, jimin😳, tense situations, did i say angst?, long hair yoongi, crying, bro😀, reader is a real one i don’t make the rules, arguments, the chains stay on(???), …bad boy yoongi😀👍, saying softhours puts some of this lightly, bro🥲, blood/wound mentions, hurt/comfort, there’s just a lot in here y’all idek, taehyung being the best ever, …angst. drop date: february 9th, 2024, 10:37pm est word count: 17.7k my god

smut warnings: cursing, choking, light slapping, breast play, angry s*x a ha ha, crying, multiple explicit scenes y'all istg don't perceive me lol, c*nt slapping, penetrative s*x, brat!reader, protected s*x, edging, consent king ofc :), rough s*x, b*cksh*ts and a lot of them, ...unprotected s*x (yeah it's here and y'all better be responsible or so help me!!!), f*ngering, or*l (m/f rec), brat tamer!3tan yoongi!!!, reader loses themselves for a sec, but yoongi is a king, pain k*nk whewwww, kissing, so much kissing lmfao, c*m play, slight bond*ge (yoongi hands), spanking, aftercare ofc :'))

There’s no way.

How the fuck is he here? When did that horrible excuse of a guy even join a team? Had he been playing intramurals this whole time?

“No fuckin’ way.”

Your eyes find your brother standing rigid at your side, wrists tensed to hell and shoulders spiked. Did he not know he was playing, either? Judging by his smoldering question, you’re going to guess he wasn’t aware.

“Were they always on this team?”

“No.”

“I don’t remember them being on any teams.”

They? Them? So they recognize more from the court on that day you try to not think about. Shifting your vision, you start gauge reactions under sounds of the growing crowd.

It’s Yoongi that looks at you first, eyes lowering to the hand you still have on your arm damn it you should be okay about that night already. But you can’t seem to let your limb go, your fingers covering it in a weak attempt at protection and resilience.

The blaze in his eyes makes you shake. Even as you swallow your pleas for everyone to just go home, he doesn’t look away. Instead, he walks over to stand in front of your knees, motioning for you to scoot over one so he can take the end seat.

Normally, you would slightly question why he wouldn’t just sit next to you. But this time, you’re hyper aware of what he’s doing—and why. It’s so obvious that you wanna reach out and grip his sweaty hand.

Yoongi absolutely sat there to shield you.

And your heart burns and burns.

If only he could do more, be more, show more. Because with a rattled ego and tainted mind, you’re already yearning for his touch, wanting him to whisk you out of here and bring you back to the comfort of his home—just like he did that night.

God, he makes you dizzy doing absolutely nothing.

“What’s the plan,” he asks, eyes on the court and palms between his knees.

“Dunno yet.” Your brother shakes his head before looking back, eyes narrowing at the laughs on the other bench. “But I might get my ass thrown out if we—”

“Play.”

Immediately, all three of them snap their heads your way. Fuck, your arm is still…

One person cannot have this hold on you. There’s no way you’re going to let him control your every waking moment, and your determination bubbles into your commands. “Play the game and beat his ass,” you seethe, holding yourself together and aiming daggers everywhere. “Just make it quick.”

Yoongi gives you a look before Jimin snags him with an eyebrow raise.

“And you’re paying me double.”

Looking at the man beside you, it’s almost comforting seeing his attention fully on your face. If it weren’t for your ghost on the other side of the scoring table and your brother standing there, you wouldn’t hesitate to kiss him.

But you only nod, getting a huff and a lopsided curve in response before you watch him lock eyes with your brother, “What do you wanna do?”

After a long, resigned sigh, your sibling finally relents, “Fuck this shit up.”

Good. Yes. This is what you want—for you and them. “Exactly.”

Scanning around the tight circle, you notice that you have everyone’s attention.

But one person seems to send a question without any words at all. In kind, you answer the same way, wings battering your stomach when all of them send thunder to the court with lightning in their eyes.

Yoongi scoffs through a slant, carrying the air of someone you never want to mess with in your fucking life. “The fuckin’ nerve.”

Jimin hums, sliding a finger along his flexed to hell jaw. “Bold,” he adds. And his voice drop sends shivers when he turns to you,

“Don’t worry, love.”

You stare.

“This will be over soon.”

The game is… just a game. For now.

No one’s taunted hard other than a few smirks and winks, and right now it seems as if both teams are just being competitive more than antagonistic. Which relaxes you to the point where you’re cheering from the bench with the other players—and their coach that arrived late—jumping and yelling and clapping when things go in their favor.

Your brother’s slamming down dunks. Jimin’s been playing amazing defense with his quick reflexes and high stamina.

And Yoongi? Has gotten sickeningly sharp. All those late nights at the rec center are paying off in this championship and, when he scores a hard shot, the pride you feel launches you to your feet.

“Nice job, b—” Oh fuck you almost shout something that should never be public knowledge. Holding your tongue, you quickly switch it up with a hasty, “Let’s go!”

That was close. Way too close.

Get it together.

But you cannot help it right now. Seeing Yoongi facing off against the man you both wanna square up against? And making it look easy? The fluttering you feel in your belly grows double. Triple. Tenfold. His gestures, the way he acts like it’s nothing, his shrugs at their failed attempts to stop him—everything’s making you scratch proverbial walls and kick bench chairs.

And it’s not just him—the whole team has been playing excellently. Each play seems intentional; every pass and movement is strategic. If you didn’t know this was a casual rec game, you would think they’re gunning for a real, prestigious trophy.

However.

When it’s starting to be very clear who the better squad is, that’s when things start getting more than tense.

On a foul call, both sides start getting in each others’ faces. And you peg that as normal until someone on your team gets shoved and your brother immediately gets between the action.

Both you and the coach shoot up from your seats.

Shit, shit, shit. If there’s one thing your older sibling’s gonna do in this game, it’ll be finding any excuse to deck that man in the face. And once that happens, there’s no telling how many injuries are gonna walk off polished floors.

Thankfully, everyone separates without a ruckus, and timeout is called on your side. The crowd starts to yell in favor of either team, and that’s when you notice that Taehyung has been joined by Shiv and your friends. From the looks of things, all five of them are laser focused on you.

You hold a quick thumbs-up before you’re covered by hot and sweaty men huddling around the bench. And you immediately agree with their coach when he barks,

“I need you all to calm down.”

“No can do, coach.”

“Not if they aren’t.”

Shit. All of them look fucking livid, not giving any shits whatsoever if they’re willing to talk back to their leader. What’s really been happening on the court? Has it been even more tense than you perceived?

Oblivious to the context behind this matchup, their coach keeps yelling, “Look, I don’t give a shit if you have something to settle. Play the game and leave it on the floor. Understood?” When there’s charged silence, he yells it even louder.

And a smattering of agreement comes out before all of you hear an even bigger yelling session booming from the other bench. When you look over, it’s quickly noticeable that they’re getting reamed over there, too.

Jimin watches before speaking, and it seems like your coach’s pleas fell on deaf ears, “Fifteen went for my legs.”

“Saw that. Let’s switch cus he can’t guard me.”

“K.” Park swivels his head to address someone else. “You good to keep playing?”

Your brother responds with a nod, wiping his never-ending sweat. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Huh. Even though you know he’s mad, the man seems… Calm. Eerily calm. It’s reminding you of the way he acted after you came home from Yoongi’s.

And you don’t like it one bit.

But the timeout is over, and both teams eye each other on their walk back onto the court. As it continues, the gym erupts into life again, with a bit of back and forth shots racking the scoreboard up.

And Yoongi keeps scoring. And scoring. And scoring.

Which lands him in a bit of trouble when the same idiot from Dalo pushes him during a layup. After he manages to make the shot, Yoongi immediately flicks him off—which gets a whistle blown. Which also means he has to sit on the bench for a second because his coach is pissed.

Ignoring the scathing remarks being thrown, he dumps himself next to you. And you immediately feel the heat roll off of him in waves, trying hard to focus on the game. “Don’t be stupid,” you jut out.

“What?”

“Don’t be stupid. These guys aren’t worth it.”

“After what he did to you?”

The way those words leave his mouth ice you over, flares spiraling through every fiber of your being. Your reaction is so visceral that you can barely get your response out, “Yeah, but…”

Leaning on his knees, Yoongi wipes his forehead with a crinkled to hell jersey, excess sweat pinging onto his sneakers. The crowd is loud and the buzzers even louder, but they aren’t enough to drown out his bite,

“I can’t let that shit go.”

“Yoongi.”

“Sorry, doll.”

“Please just—”

Yoongi leaves the bench before you can finish, and you whip your head in a rush, hands jutting out in a desperate attempt to hold him back.

Only for him to be just out of reach.

After halftime, it’s a whole different game.

From an outside perspective, it’s as if everyone was using the first half to sniff each other out, circling around each other before deciding how and when to go in for the kill.

And Yoongi isn’t the only one that you’re starting to worry about. Jimin, your brother, and even Rohan and the other guys are on edge, playing hard and doing everything they can to keep their scoring lead.

Both you and their coach know you can’t stop whatever’s going on out there. And you’re starting to feel yourself getting angry at how your brother and them are egging the guys on.

Why are they taunting? What the hell is making them so bent on making the other team pissed? Yes, all that went down with you, but nothing else had happened since then. And they clearly aren’t listening to anyone telling them to calm down.

If they end up starting shit you are going to—the fuck!

Yoongi gets straight shoved again as he goes for a layup, and you shoot up in your chair as he hits the back wall with a thud. While the players at your side are yelling and everyone on the court starts grouping in shouts, you stay rigid, solely watching Yoongi eye his attacker—the same idiot from Dalo.

Fuck everything, you wanna rush into the fray and throw hands yourself because that looked painful.

The only thing that’s stopping you is the chilling fact that Yoongi is… Grinning.

Wiping his curved lips, he waits while the refs break up the squabble, still looking triumphant as he walks to the line to shoot his free throws. When both of them are made, he stares directly at your assaulter—as you finally call it like it is—and doesn’t stop even when the coward looks away.

A whistle blows, and the game continues to be close. Too close, too close, too close. A couple more timeouts let you see just how laser-focused everyone is, and you’re a little shaken when it feels like they forgot you were even occupying their bench.

What the hell is being said on the court? Even Jimin is brimming with anger.

But after a few back and forths, Yoongi passes to your brother for a hard dunk, basket ringing from his throwdown and shaking when he lands.

Thank god. Those points are enough. They’re gonna win.

All the pent up anxiety you’ve harbored all game releases as everyone starts cheering, and your pride soars as your boys stare down their opponents while the clock winds down.

It’s over. The game is over, nothing too serious happened, and you can all go the fuck home to eat dinner and celebrate.

Your eyes catch Yoongi throwing a rudely lopsided curve across the court. Even when Jimin comes up to push him back in excitement, his expression doesn’t change.

And you find that wildly, unfathomably attractive.

Then, as it goes, your brother comes up and they all share quick daps, eyes ablaze and not letting the losers out of their sight.

Well. All of them are infamous for a reason. You would guess their energy altogether certainly contributes to that. Because the aura you feel oozing from them fills the gymnasium all the way up to your knees.

And the sigh you let out mingles with their coach’s shake of his head.

Things are still tense as they all shake hands—or at least offer hands to shake—with the other team. The atmosphere is even a little iced when they receive their trophy.

But the way you’re currently being surrounded as your guys converse hides you from plain sight, so you feel heavily protected. Even Jimin, who’s usually cheerful even when exhausted, wields sharp eyes as he keeps glancing over his shoulder.

Honestly? You wouldn’t know what to do without them. Both your brother and all his friends, good pasts or not, are great people. They didn’t need to shield you like this. But they’re doing it anyway, because they won’t give that lowlife another reason or chance to approach you.

Yeah. Your older sibling knows how to choose his circle.

It’s making you wonder if…

Nah.

That’s still too big a reach.

When it seems like all of them and their cheering squad are gone, everyone starts making their way over to the bleachers—and you’re acutely reminded of what went down under similar looking ones the other night.

Your shivers are overshadowed by Yuri’s telltale screams to Rohan, “You were so good, baby! Are you okay?”

Reia and Dom shake their heads before focusing on you, the latter being the spokeswoman, “So what was all that for?”

“Don’t ask,” you sigh, knowing exactly what she’s referring to. “I’m just glad they won and that we can go home.”

“You’re not coming to Yuri’s?” Reia asks. “I thought we planned on that, no?”

Ah, shit. Earlier this week, you did make plans with them without really thinking about what day they were gonna fall on. But now you’re so mentally drained that you kinda just wanna go—

“Is anyone else starving? I’m hungry as fuck!”

Right. Food. Adrenaline made you forget you were starving. Glancing towards your brother, you quickly remind him, “Yeah, me. And you’re paying.”

“Ah, shit, that’s right.” As he lets out a hard groan and deals with Jimin and Yoongi’s comments, your sibling relents, “Alright, where are we going.”

“Up to you,” you shrug, stealing a little look at the man you want to kiss like hell for his performance tonight.

God, Yoongi’s so handsome. As Jimin leaves his side, he silently wipes his forehead of any excess sweat, hands and shoulders shining in the lights wait wait wait. Hold on.

Walking over, you toss any care about who notices you out the window. And as he eyes your approach, you murmur with care and concern, “Is your back okay?”

Blinking once, twice, the man nods. “Yeah, it’s all good.”

“You sure? That looked…”

Of course he decides that now is the perfect time to rake his sweaty locks back. Speaking so low that only you can hear, Yoongi reassures with a fist full of hair, “I’m fine, doll.”

Motherfucker.

Pinning down your urge to reach out and smother him, you only breathe relief. And before you move away to put some distance between, you whisper, “Thank you.”

Yoongi looks your way again. “For what?”

Swallowing what’s left of your anxiety, you sigh. “For not getting into it out there. I was about to get mad as hell, but.. Looks like they were all talk.”

“Mm.”

Honestly? It’s a miracle. The game’s over without any hitches or brawls? More relief starts blossoming in your chest, prompting a smile to grace your features. “You looked so good out there, by the way. I almost called you ba—”

“What are y’all talking about over there!”

Your mouth snaps shut as soon as you see your brother watching, but Yoongi is quick to fire off an insult, “The way you always take so long to pick something.”

“I picked already!”

“Then let’s go then.”

Laughing, you join the whole crew as you’re all the last ones to walk out. Your friends and Shiv parked in another lot since one side was already full, so you tell them you’ll meet at the restaurant.

Some other teammates decide to join, with jerseys being shucked off as everyone heads out the door. Immediately, body odor swoops into your nose, making you welcome the crisp, fresh air of night.

Scratch that. You smell oncoming rain.

Conversations cease, which only leaves the sound confirming your observation: booming, rolling thunder. Stopping at the edge of the gym’s awning, multiple heads turn up at the rumbles, watching lightning crack the sky.

In front of you, Jimin shifts his head to the side. “Still?”

And when you look at who he’s asking, you see Yoongi nod.

Weird.

But it’s not raining just yet, so all of you make your way into the lot and to your cars. As you do, you check your phone while making your way over, aiming a question at Tae, “You know where we’re going?”

“Yeah, it’s not far,” he responds, fishing out his own device. “I think we’ve been there before.”

We? Looks like things are progressing nicely over there. Since you’re lingering behind the guys, you start to take a small jab, “We, huh? Cute.”

Lips spread as tight as his eyes, Taehyung parries. “Cute? Look who’s talking, miss whipped.”

“You’re whipped.”

“No, you.”

“No, you,” you giggle out, reaching out to tickle Tae’s side and laughing as he flinches away. You chase him for a few seconds before you see his whole body freeze completely, asking a small question before going quiet.

And when you slowly follow his line of vision, your heart freefalls to your gut, smashing it so hard you feel bile sting the back of your throat.

The man from Dalo. And all the guys from the court plus some.

Surround both Jimin’s and your brother’s cars.

Fuck. Oh, fuck, there’s so many of them, standing and waiting and unflinching in the bursts of thunder inching closer and closer what the fuck are you gonna do—

“Taehyung.”

Your eyes shake.

“Get her out of here. Now.”

And you’ve never screamed so loud.

Every word rips out of your mouth before you’re promptly shushed by large fingers, icicles pinging around your heart and holding it down, “Don’t fucking do thi—!”

To your horror, Tae’s already hauling you back, voice low and firm in your ear, “Come on.”

“No! What the fuck—”

“We’re leaving.”

“Please—!”

There are so many of them. So, so many of them. Panic drowns out your words and excess leaks out of your eyes, your own storm preventing you from seeing that your best friend is just as torn apart.

“Babe, we have to go now.”

“No, let me go!”

They’re outnumbered. What if they have weapons? What if the police are called? What if something happens that you aren’t prepared for?

You’re screaming. Curses, their names, or whatever whatever you don’t even know what the fuck you’re saying because your toes are kissing the edge of madness.

Dragged a good distance away, your yells devolve into incoherency, your nose and eye sockets smashing into Taehyung’s solid forearm so hard it hurts.

Make it out, make it out, make it out. For the love of everything in the fucking universe and beyond it, make it out alive.

Some movements and backs straightening are the last things you see before getting pulled around the corner.

And when Yoongi calmly rolls one of his shoulders, you feel a wick of your soul burn out.

Panic. Worry. Panic and more panic. The car ride that Tae paid for is the blurriest muddy water you’ve ever waded through.

Truthfully, you don’t even remember blankets being pulled over your shoulder. Where even are you? Oh, you’re in a bed. Whose bed are you in because this isn’t yours. But what does it matter anyway what does anything matter anyway nothing matters there’s nothing you can do you gotta get up and go back over there get up get up go—

As soon as you yank his bedroom door open, Taehyung is there, holding you back and pushing your frantic energy back inside. “Tae, if you don’t let me—”

“Do what!”

“I’m going back!” Wrestling out of his strong hold, you bolt down his hallway, head clanging as your shoulder bumps into a wall. “We need to go back—”

“Stop!” You hear running as you burst through the living room, whizzing past the glowing television. “We have to stay here—”

No no no. There’s no way you’re staying here when you need to be back at that lot. Who the fuck would call for help if anyone needs it? When they’re gonna need it? Your vision proves so blurry you can’t even find your shoes—

Arms wrap around your waist and you fight back with a scream, “Let me go!”

“Stop and just think for a second—”

“Why aren’t you with me on this, they’re—”

“Dumb as fuck!”

Your friend’s quick comment is so sharp it cuts your breath. As you still in his firm but comforting hold, you finally stop to breathe. Breathe, breathe, breathe as you’re turned to level a look with his eyes.

Eyes that are red-rimmed and so, so raw. “They’re idiots,” Taehyung grits out. “But they will be alright.”

From the shake of his voice, you find that neither of you think that for sure.

“I need to.. To…” Your breaths are ragged, energy spent and head dizzy from your quick exit from his bed. As you come down from your volcanic high, every weight the world places on your back proves too much.

“You need to relax,” Tae advises, guiding you further back inside. And you don’t speak as he leads you past the couch, past the pictures on his hallway wall, and into the dark of his bedroom.

Maybe it’s over. Right? Maybe someone will answer if you ring them up. “Call. I need to call…”

“Shh,” he soothes again, walking you backwards away from his door. When the bends of your knees hit his bed, Taehyung lets you down slowly until you’re sitting. “I’ll do it.”

Brain fried from hyperactivity, you can only nod.

Your friend steps away to fiddle with his phone, the light illuminating his beautiful features in the night. When he holds it to his ear, this is when you hear rain and the television in the living room, noticing that it’s playing a movie he watches for comfort.

Shit. He’s going through it just like you are, and yet he’s still finding energy to calm your nerves? What have you even done to deserve him?

Guess you know how to choose your circle, too.

Going unanswered, Taehyung lowers his hand, thumb rubbing the homescreen before gripping the device hard.

Both of you are in the same boat. So steer when he can’t do it anymore. Soft but assertive, you rise to your feet, offering your embrace while calling his name, “..Tae.”

When he turns, the man wastes no time in dropping his phone to bring you in close. “It’ll be okay,” he murmurs, and you hear his words on your head but feel the trembles in his chest. “Okay?”

Feeble fingers grab at his soft shirt, and you bury into his scent while soaked and tired eyes shut.

You want to believe him. You do. You do.

But hope may be a bitch.

So you don’t.

Forever passes while you both lie still in his bed, with Taehyung holding you close and keeping you subdued with notes of honey and wood. You both try to have conversation, but it’s disjointed and manufactured, so giving up is a group effort.

You’re about to give up on a lot of things before you both jolt at Tae’s phone vibrating.

The world shifts quick as you both sit up, the call immediately being accepted and a low greeting whooshing at your side, “Hey.”

With bated breath, you hear Jimin on the line. “Hey.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, we’re all alright, but…”

We. We, we, we, all of them thank the fucking world. As your breath is held, Taehyung’s voice is solid, “Say it.”

“My eye is pretty fucked. Yoongi’s face is cut up and he’s got some nasty bruises on his—”

You don’t even remember yanking the phone to your mouth. “Where is he.”

Jimin audibly pauses on the line before having the audacity to chuckle. Irked and feeling ire bubble back to the surface, you seethe, “This isn’t funny, Park. Where the fuck is he?”

“With us.” Us. Shit. “In the car.”

Oh.

“Your brother’s here, too.”

“Ah.” That means they’re all there. They’re all heading home. “Am I on speaker.”

“Umm.. Yeah.”

As much as you’re relieved they’re all okay, stockpiled anxiety transforms into anger, your limit striking the thundering sky. “Actually, you know what? Good. Now I can say you’re all idiots and immature as fuck.”

It’s your sibling that responds first. “Hey, wait a damn minute—”

“I waited long enough!” you scream, ignoring Taehyung’s wide eyes.

You know you need to relax. But you can’t help what’s happening right now and all you feel is pain. “I know this shit isn’t new to y’all, but really? You didn’t need to do this.”

“He was gonna—”

“All you had to do was play the game! Why’d you have to make them mad? Do you even know what could’ve happened back there?” Damn it, you weren’t supposed to cry during this part, not when you just want them to know they fucked up.

And the response is dead silence. Because of course it is. But if they won’t answer you here, they’re gonna answer another, “Just tell me one thing,” you plead. “Is this gonna happen again?”

That one your brother answers with finality. “They won’t be coming around anymore.”

Gulping, you give Taehyung a glossy-eyed look before staring at his lit screen again. Trying not to let your voice waver, you accept his response, “Okay… Are you okay?”

“Me? Yeah, the hits I took were weak as fuck. I’ll get home soon so if you wanna order in tonight we can.”

“Fuck that.”

“Huh?”

What an idiot. “Bro, you don’t even know how fucking mad I am,” you accuse through gritted teeth. There’s no way in hell you wanna deal with their bullshit. Ignoring your pleas and staring harm in the face? Forget it. “I’m going to Yuri’s.”

“What? Nah, come home tonight and we’ll talk.”

“I just—No.” Taehyung has to grip your shoulder before pulling you into a hug. And you’re still steel in his arms because you haven’t been this upset in ages. “I’m not talking to any of you for awhile.”

And you mean that.

“…Fine. But go asap then. I don’t want you out late on your own.”

So you gotta listen to what he wants but when it comes to what you say, it’s crickets? Goddamn, you’re furious. “…Of course you don’t.”

And you hang up before anyone can say anything else.

You open the front door to your brother leaning against the hallway wall.

Both of you eye each other, one of you with a perfectly fine face and the other that isn’t so lucky because he’s a fool.

And no words are exchanged as you trudge your frustration to the kitchen.

Ice. Bandages. Dinner. Anger propels you through it all.

Whipping up a quick but hearty meal, you let your brother patch himself up after demanding he showered. The smells of comfort food waft through your nose as things sizzle on the stove and, through the whole process, you don’t think about anything except how upset you are.

They’re all okay. But like Taehyung so abruptly put it, they’re all stupid.

As you turn off your burner, you transfer everything to a bowl, sighing so loud it seasons the top with fire. When you approach the bar, your actions speak pretty damn loud—the dish clank shoving out a question from your sibling,

“Is there something you wanna say to me?”

“There’s a bunch of shit I wanna say to you.”

“It’s about Yoongi,” he asks, the absence of hesitation making your insides squeeze. “Isn’t it.”

But luckily for you, your rage is so potent that it overruns your fear. As soon as your brother stands up and starts to repeat his question, your correction clangs through the room,

“It’s about all of you! You say you wanna be there for me but what the fuck will doing this shit do?”

Freezing, the man waits in shock as you keep going, “Yes, that guy deserves hell. I was so scared when he grabbed me at the club.” You stop to swallow. “But I had them both there and we left.”

Fuck, this is hard. Having to relive that shit is difficult but you need your brother—and all of them, for that matter—to know how hurt you feel right now. Mustering up enough bravery to get to the goddamn point, you finally squeak out,

“If I lose them? Lose you? Because of something as stupid as a fight?” Your eyes search his, and your heart cracks when you see glassy sheen amongst his bruises. “What would I do then?”

You expect silence. And silence is what you get. It’s drawn out, loud, and telling. “We know.”

“Do you?”

“Yes,” he whispers, eyes lifting to meet yours with sincerity. “And we’re sorry.”

Another moment passes between the two of you, the food you made left uneaten on the counter and the rest sitting still on the stove. But you know your sibling will eat it all tonight, whether you’re there or not.

And you step forward at the same time he holds his battered arms out.

Freshly showered, he still smells like rain and exertion. But his heart beats under your chest, he’s present, and back home—things you need to stop taking for granted.

But you’re still mad. And getting things off your chest has only made you tired, so you decide that it’s finally time to go before you circle back to other scary territory brought up tonight. “I’m leaving now,” you announce as you step away. “But just think about that.”

“I will.”

“I’m serious.”

“I will.”

Staring, you take note of his cuts and injuries, wondering how the others are faring even though you don’t wanna deal with anything else. Because it hurts too much, and if you see who you’re thinking about, there’s no telling what you’d do if you were like this with your brother. There’s no telling how you’d…

No. You choose to go the easy route this time. Everyone can simmer in their sore, swelling consequences while you have a night of de-stressing with your friends.

So you leave to go pack without another word.

It’s raining.

Hard.

And even though your car is heading to Yuri’s, your heart is beating backwards. Tugging you somewhere else and not letting up.

With a ping of chill, you can’t shake it. Braking at a stop sign close to your destination, you sit in silence, letting the rain pelt every side of your vehicle and wondering what the hell to do.

Truthfully? Your brother looked like shit. But your body isn’t telling you to go back to the house, which can only mean one other place. And you know for a fact you don’t wanna talk to him, either.

So fucking upsetting. They did all that for what? You can barely keep your thoughts in a row because they keep yelling at jostling each other just like everybody did on the court. If anyone had to fight the dipshit, it should've been you.

Fuck! Your head connects with the wheel, an inner monster rumbling with the thunder because you’re so fed up with everything that happened.

Your brain is the one yelling. But your heart is begging for it to listen. Go to Yuri’s? Go to Yoongi’s. Find shelter in that warm bed of hers and sink in her plushies to comfort you?

A sigh. Maybe you can at least call him to tell him off one more time. He needs to hear what you told your brother because if you ever, ever lose him—

Your eyes burn.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

No answer.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

Pick up. What the fuck.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

…Turn the fuck around shit, shit, shit.

Curses flying, you whip your vehicle in a flash, heart pounding so loud it’s blocking out the storm. Which is morbidly impressive considering how horridly it’s pouring.

Thinking in leaps, you pivot and make another decision. Tell her and make it all quick.

Yuri: Outgoing Call

“Hello?”

“Hey, I’m not coming.”

“You okay?”

“I’m going to Yoongi’s.”

“Yoongi’s? Why?”

Ah, shit. Oh, fuck. She doesn’t know.

Banging the steering wheel, you smash your teeth, stressed as hell from braving the rain in the dark and now snitching on yourself to someone else.

Damn it. What do you say? What can you possibly even say when you’re so mad and stressed and conflicted and worried—

“Hello?”

“Because he’s the one,” you whoosh out, your vision quivering twice as much as it should. “And things went down after the game and now something feels wrong.”

“Oh, shit. Is that why y’all didn’t come to—”

“Yes.” When you say all this out loud, now it has weight. Horrifying weight on your chest and a block pushing down on the gas. You hear a bit of shuffling on the line, and you’re starting to get so anxious that you blurt, “Please don’t say anything. Please.”

“I won’t. Not about this.”

“Thank you.”

“Hang up, babe. Make it safe.”

“Okay.”

Go, go, go. Please, just get there.

Letting up, you change your speed, hoping to everything good in the world that this feeling you have is only a feeling and nothing more.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

What a strange emotion, wanting his reason for not picking up solely being because he doesn’t wanna talk to you. That is an answer you can deal with.

But you still can’t fight off the jagged pulses telling you it’s something else.

After an agonizing drive, you finally see his complex, tensing harder the further and further away you have to park.

Whipping into a spot, you screech into it before hauling your bag out, popping the trunk and desperately grabbing a plastic box you always keep inside.

And the mad dash drenches you long before you seek cover, your bones shivering shivering shivering from the chill.

Yoongi has to be home. His car is here.

But he still won’t pick up the fucking phone.

Skidding at his door, your knocks are rapid, knuckles singed from the ice cold wraps.

Answer, answer, answer. For fuck’s sake, he better answer.

After a haunting moment of silence, you decide to call one more time, head wet and bones shivering as you press the phone to your damp ear.

Finally. “Hello.”

“Open the door,” you jump into commanding, hearing nothing other than a voice that sounds so crushed and low that it crumples you inside.

“You’re here?”

“Yeah, let me in.” Fuck, your teeth are clattering against each other, whether it’s from the rain, the cold, or anger, you can’t tell.

But the reply you get is the coldest thing imaginable. And it sets your whole body aflame.

“Not tonight.”

Hell no. Hell fucking no Yoongi is not going to get rid of you that easily. Not when you have a boatload of things to say and only one dock to dump them all on, “Yoongi, I swear to god—”

“Not tonight—”

“—you don’t let me in I’m—”

“Go home—”

“I’m fucking staying out here until you open the goddamn door!”

Oh, you’re pissed. You’re so fucking pissed because this all could’ve been avoided if none of them were stupid. Or prideful. Or whatever the fuck boys decide to be when they can’t let something go.

And this man still has the audacity to give you the stiff arm, silence on the line before he rasps out another short, “I’m serious.”

“No.”

“Go home.”

“No!”

He says your name. So, so softly, before a gut-wrenching,

“Please.”

Breath shaken, you rest your forehead against chilly wood, hoping it quells the fire you feel rising from your rib cage.

You can’t give up. Not when you have so much to say. Not when you have to check on him and make sure he’s fine.

Not when you give into the strongest premonition that you need to be nowhere else but with him tonight.

You will stay. Stay, stay, stay. Even if he doesn’t want to see you.

Voice trembling in rage and concern and everything in between, you feel your eyes sear through when they close, mission boiling down to one more desperate choice,

“…No.”

You’re cold. And wet. But you will stand out here for as long as it takes him to let you inside—a night, a day, no matter what.

And for a moment. Or a few. You think he’s dead set on making you prove that.

But you finally, finally, finally hear a sigh before a lock turn, and you try to prepare yourself for what you see but he opens the door and his face comes into view holy shit he looks like a wreck—

“What the fuck,” you grit out as you rush in with vision swimming, digging into your bag for the medkit you hastily stashed and swinging off your sandals because you gotta get something in the—

A hand grips you hard, tugging you back before you even register what’s happening.

As your feet stumble back onto linoleum, your gaze snaps to the ground.

And your breath cuts like it’s your last.

Shards.

Pieces.

Thousands of wood and glass chips litter the entire open area of the living room.

And realizing where they came from strikes like lightning.

Fuck. Oh, fuck, what did Yoongi do?

“I told you, doll.”

You choke on a sob.

“Go home.”

Your breaths return before you straighten, tears flowing freely as you don’t know whether to start cleaning up the chaos or finally facing the one who caused it.

No, no, no. Get rid of it.

Throw it out, all of it, all of it.

A new fire roars to life, forging your steeling commitment as you wrestle out of Yoongi’s hold.

What did he do, what did he do?

Revving with smoke out of your ears, you burn a path to the kitchen, grabbing a trash bag before marching into the wreckage. Up go the biggest pieces first, chucked into plastic before the smaller ones follow.

Throw it all. This one, this one, and this one.

Yoongi isn’t even wearing shoes. He can cut himself up even more if this all stays where it is.

Shit, this is everywhere.

When you realize you’re gonna need a broom, you storm back into his laundry closet to yank one out and keep going. When you go to sweep, the sharpest voice cuts through your fingers.

“Stop.”

Your grit grips the tool even tighter. Because you won’t. Don’t dare look into his expression, either, because you know that one glance will melt every scream on your tongue. So you stay resolute and shoot rejection to the ground, “No.”

“Just go, please.”

“No.”

This hurts.

This really, really hurts.

Yoongi has never, ever said these things to you and it feels like a knife jabbing into the same spot over, and over again. You almost prefer three new months of no contact over whatever the hell this is.

But you have to keep going. Eyes clenching, lips wobbling, you must keep going.

Because you came here for a reason other than this mess. And he’s gonna have to do better than this to kick you back out into the rain.

“I got it.”

“Let me do it.”

“Your brother needs you.”

“Yeah, well, I already tore the fuck into him and I’m gonna do the same to you.” You harden your fist on the sweeper, tugging it more towards your shoulder with finality. And you gather all the energy you need to leave no more room for arguments, because Yoongi is going to listen, “So sit down.”

It hurts.

He wants to say shit. You know he wants to.

But he only breathes hard with eyes closed, following your orders and carrying his dark clouds to the dining room.

When he finally leaves you alone, this is when you look his way.

In sweats and a shirt, he appears fine. But with a deep pang, you notice he’s slightly limping. Judging from those knuckles, you wonder if they’re red from the fight or from hitting another wall of his apartment.

Or from whatever the fuck happened around your feet.

Shit.

While he dumps himself at his table, you clean up the pieces of his rampage, mentally noting that one plan of yours has now changed.

This one. These, too. A string here. A metal piece there.

You don’t know how long it takes you. All you know is that you’re burning inside, determined to clean everything and sweep this chaotic energy away.

One more. Two more. Another one here.

As soon as you’re done, you lug the trash bag out of the front door and don’t give a shit what happens to it now.

Keep going. There’s more that you need to take care of.

The fuel inside of you rages on, anger conflicting with anxiety and past worries and sadness for something that didn’t even happen. As you spin, you vow yourself to keep pushing until you can’t anymore.

Sniffling. Shivering. But staying strong because things could’ve gone a lot worse.

Yoongi meets you by the table, messy, damp hair shielding his features. “You’ve done enough.”

“I still need to—”

“Just.” He looks away. “Go home, doll. I can’t do this tonight.”

“Do what? I’m helping you.”

That’s what you do for each other, right? You both help each other. But now you’re not so sure because Yoongi comes back with not an acknowledgement, nor a way of relenting.

But ice.

“Who said I needed it?”

And in all the time you’ve spent with this man, this is the first time you’ve felt downright cold. “Yoongi, what?” Your eyes travel across his face, chest caving in when there’s barely any hints of vitality. “Are you serious?”

“You think I’m joking?”

“You’re kicking me out? What happened to saying you’d never do that, huh?”

“I say a lot of things.”

…Oh.

That hurt. That… That physically couldn’t have hurt any harder.

Nodding, you look away, shaking your head in disbelief because you are on the verge of losing it. “You know what? You do say a lot of things.”

Walking away, you start rearranging pillows on the couch pushed askew. “Like how perfect I am.” Picking up his books from the now non-existent coffee table. “And how there’s no one else.”

As you give the volumes a new home on his intact tv stand, you turn to face him again. “Those are just words, too, huh?”

Yoongi kicks his head back with a smile, one that cuts instead of mends. “Nah… Not tonight.”

“Not tonight what.”

“We aren’t doing this tonight.”

“The fuck we aren’t.” It’s his turn to walk away, with a slow head shake that you really don’t like. “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere.” Yoongi shifts his head to the side, but not enough for you to fully see him. It’s almost as if he doesn’t want you to. “But you’re going home.”

Something’s off. There’s something completely off but all you feel is sadness and rejection in your ribcage. “So this is how it happens, huh. Now I’m just like everyone else.”

He finally faces you, miles away even though you’re just rooms apart. “You’re gonna go there?”

“I am.”

“Wow.”

That’s what he comes back with? This is gutting you from the inside out and you have no idea what’s happening but now rage is flaring into your mouth, “You think I wanted to come here? After what all of you did?”

“Do you even know?”

“No! But how the fuck would I? You don’t tell me shit!”

“That’s cus—”

Your response sears over his floors, “I can take care of myself. But none of you told me about that dude from the court. None of you.” Breath shaken, you continue dumping out all your thoughts and previous concerns, “If I had known? That whole Dalo thing could’ve been avoided and I would’ve ran.”

For a person that you’ve come to know as so warm, Yoongi’s entire aura freezes you over as you keep talking. “And today? You know how fucking scared I was? If I… I…”

All he does is stare. Why isn’t he doing anything else? Is he really flipping the switch and choosing to legitimately let you leave this time?

Fine then.

“You know what?” Giving up, you laugh—harsh, and breathy, and without any joy at all. “Forget it. You’re not even listening anyway.”

“I swear to—I just said not tonight.”

Frustration from the game, fear from the ambush after, anxiety from not hearing from them. All of it coalesces into something you can’t even control anymore. Your buffer shuts off, the monster you created seizing the reins, “No, I get it. I do! You want me gone. Sure. See you in three more months.”

Stunned, Yoongi huffs in disbelief, jaw working overtime. “Are you serious?”

“Yes, I am. Trying to help you but it looks like you don’t even want that. So good fucking bye.”

And it looks like he has a beast of his own because his next response to your last attempt has you reeling back in shock,

“Who asked you?”

Dark liquid drips onto your soul.

You can only stare, unblinking and feeling like you’re in an entirely different universe. “Who asked me? Who asked me.”

“That’s what I said.”

Forget the question of who asked you because… Who are you even talking to? Who is this person standing in front of you because it’s not the Yoongi you know. It’s so jarring and hurtful and strange that you truly feel thrust into the middle of a nightmare.

You’re gonna do it. You’re actually gonna leave this time.

“You know what? Kiss my ass, Yoongi.”

God, it hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

It hurts.

You don’t even know where this is all coming from. All you know is that you’re angry and there’s no stopping the hot magma bubbling in your center.

Silence fills the room.

And it rains. It pours.

But finally, you hold a sob back before burning a shaky path to his door, wrestling with the lock before yanking it open—

Only to have it shut back in your face, so thrown when you realize you’re getting spun. Air whooshes out of you before your shoulder blades connect with wood—

And this is the goddamn breaking point. The walls you haphazardly built to keep you upright collapse and tumble. It’s so potent and blinding that you don’t even realize your hands are connecting with his chest in the weakest, saddest ways and you are outright screaming.

“God, what the fuck! I told you to—We didn’t hear from you for hours and I—I didn’t know if you were okay—”

“Whoa, hold u—”

“I thought the worst and I—didn’t even get a chance to—I finally told you want I wanted and you—Fuck—”

“Just listen—”

“Don’t ever do that again! I don’t wanna lose you and today was so fucking scary and I’m not, fucking, leaving—”

Your lips are smashed to hell, his lips bruising so hard you feel it in the back of your skull. And it’s a whole storm as Yoongi pins you against the door, leg wedging between yours and his hands gripping you like a vice. It’s intense. It’s overwhelming.

“I swear to—”

You don’t know what to do. What to do what to do what to do, and all your madness jangles as you’re yanked and slammed against another wall, breath leaping into his open mouth before you tug at his hair, digging anger through his shoulders.

“Can’t fucking listen, can you?”

“No,” you rip from your throat, shoving him back only to gravitate right back and lock lips again.

And he rips at your clothes, tearing the front of your shirt so far your chest emerges on full display. Before you can even react to the cuts on his face, Yoongi’s hand clenches around your throat, making you gargle just how you fucking want to right now.

“Shouldn’t even fucking be here.”

“When has that ever stopped us.” You groan as you get rapidly led back into something hard, and you realize it’s the dining table digging into your ass.

“He’s still home.”

“So?”

“Shouldn’t you—”

“Then kick me out!” you taunt. “For real. Let me go. Fucking do it then.”

Yoongi works his jaw before gripping tighter, making you groan and your gut flare into something primal. Nostrils flaring, he moves to grip your head hard enough to make your stomach flip but not firm enough to scare you.

Never to scare you. “You aren’t gonna leave me alone.”

Your eyes are ice.

“Are you.”

You solely watch in determination, breath harsh from your nose and billowing out like steam. Drilling your answer into his eyes, you charge the surrounding air enough to spark like the flashing sky outside.

And Yoongi cracks like lightning.

“Goddamn it.”

Everything happens at once and in quick succession. Teeth grit to hell, Yoongi pulls you upward before fast stepping you to his bedroom, slamming you through the door before you shove him right into his desk.

Things teeter and shake and clang with each impact, your storm disrupting everything in its path and creating a tornado of desire and thoughts in your brain.

Something swirls and twists between your souls, tightening and condensing into emotions darker than midnight. And as angry as you are, it’s slipping into a dangerous mania, and you’ve never been this excited for anything in your life.

“Stubborn.”

“Coward.”

Your back stings as you’re pushed back into his door, the wood smacking into the spackle of his wall. Rough lips smother yours as you claw at his shoulders, neck, hair, and you hear him growl into your mouth,

“Want me to kiss your ass? Suck my dick then we’ll talk.”

“Fuck you. I give better head than you anyway.”

His words rival the deepest growl, “Prove it.”

“Make me.”

Whirlwind. Storm. Tempest. At this point, it’s a whole goddamn high. Your body is thrumming and the only way to feed your anger is to channel it through actions.

And truth be told, you need this. You both do. With all the high strung emotions that had nowhere to go until you collided?

This is liberation.

You’re shoved onto your knees before Yoongi dives into his pants, and you’re already hungry and impatient enough to help him shrug his sweats down before he can do it himself.

“Choke on it,” he commands, holding his dick and watching as you note how hard he already is. When you waste no time taking him in, you elicit the deepest groan you’ve ever pulled from him when you fling spit onto his length.

Maybe his reaction is to your face. Because you’re still mad as fuck and you aren’t done letting him know that.

With a passing thought, you realize that this is all new. But you’re welcoming it because it’s working. Only Yoongi can bring out this passion even in anger, or maybe the two of you were going to get to this point no matter what.

“Fuck.” He steadies the bottom of your chin while you suck him off. “Uh huh. Got anything else to say?”

You flick him off, and he hums with a rumble, his cock reacting and hitting the back of your prideful throat.

“Fuck you, too, doll.” His talks devolve into hisses, grunts, moans when you slobber all over yourself, and your cunt is already dripping with your own slick. “There you go. Gonna take it all? Or are you gonna keep running that mouth?”

And you pop off before taunting, “Find out, pussy.”

And you’re swallowing him before he shoves you all the way forward, your body arching up in a gag but filled with him him him, your nose flat against his pelvis and his dick squeezing tears from your eyes and your throat overstuffed to hell and there’s no way he’s gonna forget this moment. You’re making damn sure of it.

Another middle finger raises as you’re tensing around him, and you can barely hear him above you but you do know he’s massively pleased. Tears stream down your eyes when you’re yanked off, gasping for air and being pulled off the ground.

“Holy fuck.”

Throat hoarse, you attempt speech but it doesn’t matter anyway, because his lips steal them all. And your cunt is slapped with a whole palm, making you flinch and shoot out a whine into his kiss.

Before you know it, your body hits the bed before he joins you, arms bulging as he rips your top open completely. You can’t even think straight as he teases your earlier efforts, “I’ve had better.”

“Oh, you fucking—Shut the fuck up,” you growl, a moan leaving without permission as he palms your cunt again. Just when you think he’s gonna top you, Yoongi hauls you up, hastily leading you around the bed until your back connects with another wall.

You love that shit. And you’re starting to think Yoongi is very, very aware of this fact.

“Take those fuckin’ pants off,” he orders. “And hands on the wall before I put them there.”

“Can’t make me do shit—”

Fingers grip your chin before Yoongi gets right into your face, primal instinct making you go on full alert. As his tongue prods his cheek, your whole lower body quivers. “I can. And I will, if you don’t behave.” Tapping your jaw in a warning, he hums. “Now do what I fucking say.”

Holy shit, he’s not playing around. Which only heightens your desire to peaks previously unreached, and you’re shucking your bottoms off while he yanks his drawer open for condoms. Hurrying, you fling your clothes away before planting—

Yoongi smashes his whole front against your back—pinning your whole body against the cold, rough wall—before intertwining long fingers with yours. “Good girl.”

Hitching your hips back, he sticks your ass out as you slip, and you feel his cock tease your entrance. Groaning, you grip your hands into fists as he continues to rub your cunt but never enter. Denying, denying, denying. Smacking your pussy and still not letting you feel him inside.

And it’s maddening. “Please!”

“Please what,” he asks, giving your ass a spank that has you flinching into the wall.

And, without any shred of mercy, this goes on for longer than he’s ever held out. It’s so sickening that tears start flowing from your eyes, and you devolve into saying anything to get him to fuck your brains out. Between spanks on your ass, slaps on your tits, and aggravating kisses on your back, Yoongi doesn’t let you phase him for minutes.

It’s when you choke on a sob that he finally, finally squeezes inside of you, checking for your nod before wrecking you completely.

“Oh, fuck—” Your eyes shut tight as you try to keep yourself upright, hands pushing against the wall as your legs shift with every thrust.

“This ass. Fuck.” Yoongi’s pace is relentless, hands bruising your hips and your cheeks smacking into his pelvis over and over and over. “It’s a goddamn problem.”

You’re trying so hard. So, so hard to stay on the wall. But your hands are too sweaty; they're starting to slip with each attempt. “Bed,” you command. “Bed now.”

And he obliges immediately, pulling out and yanking you back. Mouth to your ear, he both checks in while making your legs jelly, “You tapping out?”

“Break my fucking back,” you rasp in return, hearing him growl in satisfaction before burying you facedown into his bed. As he plunges inside again, you grip at his sheets, driven to the brink and reveling in all the things he’s saying to you while feeling him in your stomach.

Suddenly, you feel your arms pulled back, and you yell into his mattress as he buries himself even deeper. Everything you’re screaming makes no sense, but the phenomenal sensation you feel as you go limp renders you speechless anyway.

Yoongi knows exactly what he’s doing as he pushes his thumb into your asshole, because you clench so hard around him that he chuckles darker than dark. Careening into space, you kiss the edge of euphoria before he inconveniently pulls out, launching a sling of insults from your mouth.

“What was that?”

“I said fuck you!”

“Thought so.”

Not done in the slightest, Yoongi hauls your thighs so flush against him that you have to use your fingertips for support. Just as you’re about to argue, he rams into you from a new and impossibly enticing angle and holy fuck it feels so good you want to weep.

“Put that fucking hand down,” he growls, smacking away the fingers you didn’t even know were on your mouth. “If you wanna talk shit.”

“Fuck—!”

“Uh huh. Let it out, baby girl.”

You’ve never felt this out of control. This wild. This out of body. Your head is yanked back, your back pressing into the front of his shirt before you feel him so far into your guts that you quiver.

Now at the mercy of his tongue in close range, you hear his gravelly tone in your ear, “What’s my fuckin’ name.”

“Asshole—”

A hard smack to your tits has you crumpling with a whine. “Say it.”

“I’ll say it if I wanna say it—”

Another spank to your inner thigh and you’re gone. Eyes roll as he tweaks your nipple, and your words are almost garbled when he grips your chin from behind. “This what we’re doing? Hmm?”

You laugh breathy before you taunt, “Uh huh.”

“Mm…” Despite your laugh, you shake. “I wouldn’t do that, doll.”

“Make me. Bet you can’t.”

Tensed and veins angry, Yoongi grips both your tits before snarling, “That’s enough.”

Swiftly, he shoves you down into the sheets, muscular frame pinning you as he strokes up into you just right. Again. Again. It’s all too slow and too effective and you’re trying to stay mad but all you can feel is perfection, your back arching at his thrusts and mewling at his low growls in your ear.

“You wanted this.” Another thrust. “Talking shit.” Your jaw goes slack. “Pissing me off.”

Your groan is downright erotic. Why why why? Just knowing you’re making him this mad flutters your cunt and, from the sinister chuckle shooting into your neck, Yoongi definitely felt that.

“Fuckin’ thought so.”

When he reaches to grab your breasts, the last thrust has you crying out in a flurry of pleasure.

Every single thought is Yoongi, from beginning to end in a biblical cycle of debauchery. Exertion leaves you slick, sweat coating the expanse of your skin only to press into his bed, your mess your mess your mess. At his hands. The smacks of his cock. The rolls of his hips. Are you gone? Are you here? If he’s bruised then you feel like you are, too, and you welcome the temporary pain as Yoongi’s fingers dig ever deeper into your waist fuck one’s now pinning your head down.

The moans you let out are unending, and your thighs shake when all you get in response is a laugh of condescension.

“Look at you. Can’t even stay mad.”

“Fuck you!” You’re close, you’re close, you’re close again. Release is at your fingertips, but Yoongi yanks himself out to rip it away from your outstretched fingers. “No!”

“What, doll.”

“Please!”

“Nah.”

Body sore, you’re flipped over with no mercy as something else presses against your cunt.

Fucking hell, he’s eating you out now? Shaking, you feel Yoongi’s tongue swirl around your thrumming clit before he sucks, edging you to the point of tears and heartbreak. And it proves too much as you grab at his head, yank at his hair, because he lets up when you’re close.

Every. Single. Time.

Your madness spirals into your curses, and he relishes in your despair, continuing to lick and suck and slap your thighs with patience. “What do you say?”

“Please!”

“Mm. Not loud enough.”

“Yoongi, please.”

“Oh, we’re saying names now?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, it aches. It’s starting to borderline hurt. “I’ll be good,” you barter, beg, plead with a head spinning off its own axis. “I’ll do anything.”

“Do it yourself then.”

Later, when you look back on tonight, you’ll be embarrassed and shy to hell. But right now, you’re so over any shyness that you don’t hesitate, reaching down to rub at your clit and moaning when it’s so sensitive.

And Yoongi gets a front row seat.

His groan is gutteral. And it doesn’t take you long to quicken your pace, bucking your hips and whining to the ceiling. You’re so so so close it’s right there—

Your hand is smacked away. And after you try to wrestle out of his grip, you are a flat out, blubbering mess. “Yoongi… Please…”

“Nah.”

This is torture. And you’re frightened at how much you’re enjoying it. “I’m so close.”

“You’ll come when I say you can.”

“Please! …Please..”

“You done being a brat?”

“No! Fuck. Yes!” If you weren’t so far gone, you may have deciphered a tiny smile of amusement. But it won’t be for months later until you’ll realize that you were wrong.

Because the menacing flash of teeth you see is much too wide to be anything other than pride. “The fuck did I say? Use your words.”

You know you’re still upset. You know Yoongi is still upset. But for some reason, you feel closer to him than you have in awhile, and you wonder if lust and madness are two sides of the same coin. “Let me come. Please.”

Yoongi finally obliges with something he hadn’t pleasured you with yet. And your vision blanks as you yelp at the sensation, his slick fingers pistoning into your folds so fast you’re arching so taut. From between your quivering legs, you hear one final command,

“Then fucking come.”

And you burst, so hard you almost feel like something threatens to spew from your cunt. But all you can do is shake and thrash under his grip, so erratic that you feel like Yoongi’s starting to pin you down. Gone, gone, gone, you’re sure the veins of your neck threaten to break through your sweaty skin.

Then you feel his cock thrust inside of you, and you whip your head forward only to get your airway cut off. “Again,” he calmly repeats, flinging you back to the last time this happened.

Only this time, there’s even less room for you to make any other choice.

“I said again.”

Your body cannot fathom disobedience, pulsing and milking his perfect fit. Over, and over, and over. You hear rumbling from a dragon above, feel breaths of steam whooshing as it watches you come undone.

“Yoongi—”

A light slap to your cheek is your only warning before your chin is tugged, lips smushing into yours to swallow your straining sobs. Fuck, fuck, fuck, your body is still thrumming, inundating around his cock until your emotions spill from your core. Toes. Fingers. Everything is straining and locking in place.

“So fucking hot.” He rips your soul right out. “Shit.”

You fly through time and space, gathering emotions and feelings and spiraling spiraling spiraling. Crying. You’re crying. Full on crying you’re so overwhelmed with everything truly you were so mean to him you upset him holy fuck you should’ve left when he told you to—

“Baby.”

But you cannot stop crying, choke choke gasping on sobs.

“Babe.”

“I—I—”

Your name stabs you with a crisp shot, coupled with a firm grip on your chin, snapping you back to lucid. And Yoongi’s eyes are frantically searching your own. “Look at me.”

You do. Do you? You do. And his eyes…

They’re not angry at all. It’s pure concern. Steadfast concentration. And something reflecting your soul. “Breathe.”

“Oh, shit,” you whisper, coughing and reaching for oxygen you didn’t know you were denying. Air rushes back into your lungs as you inhale.

“There you go. Keep going.”

You do, gulping down air and hiccuping a breath or two. Your cheek is being caressed, you think. And with another pass, you know it is.

“Relax for me.” And you hiccup a sob. “Breathe, babe.”

You do, you do, you do. Yoongi kisses your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, and you breathe more and more through it all. “You with me?”

“Always,” you answer, filter off because you are hanging by a thread and he’s holding the top. “Please don’t kick me out ever,” you hiccup. “Please, baby, I’ll do anything for you but I—could—never handle that—”

You’re tenderly hushed before lips slide over yours, attempting to swallow your thoughts and your sobs and your oncoming tears. As you flood his bed with apologies, Yoongi keeps wiping them all.

“I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“Babe.”

“You told me so many times—”

“Breathe, angel.”

You blink at the change in name, and it makes you focus just a bit stronger. Floating down from the precipice.

“I wasn’t kicking you out,” he slowly explains, kissing sweat from your forehead. His words feel like a calm, rock-filled river over your eyes. “I felt like an idiot and hated you seeing me like this.”

“Like what?”

“Just… Like this.”

“You’re perfect like this,” you hitch out, not caring about what flows out of your mouth. “So perfect. Always to me. I just wanted to help you, baby, I’m so sorry—”

He hugs you so tight more tears squeeze out.

And so do more confessions, “I… I care about you. I think a little too much. If I lost you, I wouldn’t—be able—”

“I’m here.”

“So please don’t push me away.”

“I won’t.”

“I know you don’t make promises but—”

“I promise.” Without an ounce of doubt, Yoongi places a firm, lingering kiss on your temple. “Promise. Fuck.” As he holds you tight, you feel him shake before you hear the tiniest sniff at your ear.

Oh. He doesn’t need to be like this, too. You try to move your hand up between your bodies to comfort him, but your whole limb feels gelatinous. So you simply whisper, “It’s okay, baby.”

You can’t tell how long you lie like this, with his beautiful weight on yours. But time is irrelevant when your mind is unwinding from hours of whirring, starting to finally accept the fact that everyone is okay and you don’t have to be angry anymore.

“Come on,” Yoongi rasps, voice cracked and airy. “Let’s go.”

“Hmm?”

“Shower.”

“Oh. Okay.”

You’re so thrown and dizzy from what just happened that even getting to the bathroom is a blur. What you kinda feel is Yoongi holding you upright when your legs buckle, but you don’t remember when he leaves your side to turn the water on.

As he flips on the light, your eyes squeeze until they adjust, and you watch as he tests the water while fully clothed. Air conditioning starts to give you a chill, but the shower warms up just in time because he reaches out to guide you inside.

Wait. Is he not joining you? Bleary, you grab at his shirt when he steps away, eyes pleading. “Are you coming in, too?”

Yoongi stops before he gives a shake of his head. “I’ll take mine when you’re done,” he says through a slight smile. “We’ll take care of you first.”

That doesn’t make sense. Even in your depleting haze, you know something doesn’t add up. “You can join me now. I don’t mind.” When you try to lift his shirt, Yoongi visibly flinches when you brush over his ribs.

And all the murk around your head vanishes in a snap.

He kept his shirt on that whole time. Not once did your positions allow you to see his upper body fully. And now he’s not gonna get in the shower or take his shirt off?

Your voice lowers two octaves when you reach full clarity. “Let me see.”

Unblinking, Yoongi tries to back away, “Don’t worry—”

“Let me see it, baby,” you command, breath cut until he finally allows you to lift his shirt up holy fuck those injuries look so painful tears prick your eyes. “Oh, my god, Yoongi—”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re hurt.” You feel these wounds deep in your ribs, and you tell him to get your kit what the hell he fucked you while feeling those?

Attempting to alleviate your stress, Yoongi decides to strip fully and step into the shower, ignoring your pleas to grab your med kit and promising you can take care of him when you’re done washing up.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, doll.”

“Are you sure?”

“Promise.”

And when his arms wrap around you, this is when you finally let go. Huge, chest-wracking sobs echo around tile, and Yoongi stays quiet through your cathartic release.

There’s another reason you were so upset. And it has nothing to do with any of them, but with yourself. The main reason you’ve been so riled up and frustrated is because… This is technically your fault, too.

But, unsurprisingly, he won’t let you take any blame whatsoever.

“You got hurt cus I said to play.”

“Nope.”

“I wore the outfit that day.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“And lost my friends at the club.”

“No.”

Sniffling in quick succession, you think about one other option. Some form of closure that can double as compromise. Voice soft, you suggest the last resort you have,

“How about we share it.”

Yoongi blinks twice before he clarifies, “You wanna share the blame?” When you nod, he huffs through the tiniest smile of confusion. “Mm. Then it’s our fault.”

“Okay.”

After shaking his head, he closes his eyes, molding his forehead with yours. “What are you doing to me.”

A sniffle. “Wrecking your water bill.”

His laughs join yours as you barely get your sentence out before giggling, and to feel him so close and present and here makes your worries slink down the drain.

Hands trace down your arms, walking along falling rivers before creating ponds with your fingers intertwined. “Gonna clear me out someday.”

“Duh.”

He’s himself again.

And after a whole night of chaos, you feel like yourself again, too.

That’s all you both need to feel peace.

You keep that tranquility carrying you through his room, peeking into his closet to grab the biggest shirt and sweats you can find before drying your head.

But no matter how much water you can dry, your body will keep being washed in relief. And it’s the calmest feeling, watching as Yoongi does the simplest things near his bed.

Your lips curve when he pulls up his pants; your heart beats when he grabs a tee. It’s in this moment that you admit that these outfits of his are your favorites, and you gravitate to him as he slips cotton over his damp head.

“Come on,” you softly offer as you turn. “I’ll make food and get you some ice.”

Again, Yoongi just stares with a faint smile. But his eyes are alive again, so you’re more than fine if he just follows your lead without a word.

In the kitchen, you pause amongst the appliances, the cabinets watching as you utilize your phone to find a good recipe. “What shall we eat… Stew? Or, wait—”

Looking up, you eye him in thought before choosing to focus on something else. “Actually, let’s figure you out first.”

Opening yet another tab to add to your hundreds, you type away before selecting a good starting point. “Okay, let’s see. You’re breathing fine, so no bruised ribs. Umm…”

Scroll, scroll.

“It looks really bad there, though. You sure you can move right?”

Despite asking, you go right back to your phone before Yoongi can even respond. Scrolling and clicking and reading again.

Scroll, scroll.

“Okay, so no bruised ribs, and according to this you don’t have any broken bones. And nothing fractured, either, thank god—”

“I love you.”

Time bursts.

Your chest glows.

Everything starts to beat, beat, beat in slow motion.

And you don’t even feel like you’re in the room anymore. “…What?”

You need to hear it again. You need to need to need to, because if you heard him wrong, you will check yourself and bolt right out the door.

His eyes.

Despite the battlefield on his skin, they are dripping, and sparkling, and full. The whole world suspends as he stares right into your soul, caressing it with his wounded hands and cradling it in his bruised arms.

No matter how hard the moon will try—for years, and years, and years more—it will never outshine this single, shaken, solidified admittance.

“I love you, doll.”

You don’t know what to do. You don’t know what to fucking do.

Why is Yoongi saying this now? Why is he choosing now of all times to make you the happiest person in the universe?

No.

Happiness isn’t even close to what you feel and you’re pretty sure you’re crying but nothing makes sense and your vision plunges under sunlit waters.

“And you don’t have to say anything. I know I don’t deserve to.”

What?

“I can’t be everything you want. Or need. Or whatever the fuck I’m trying to say. But I just needed you to know because I can’t fucking fight this shit anymore—”

You lunge forward before he offers his last syllable, careful to avoid his wounds and not mush his face because he would do the same for you.

And it’s all too much tonight. The lingering fear, the dying anger, the floods of relief, the joy. You can’t stop your sobs from coming out in bursts, your whole body wracking with overwhelming emotion as he grits into your skin,

“Goddamn it, I—”

“Yoongi—”

“—so fucking much.”

Yoongi loves you. He’s here. He loves you, loves you, loves you and the beats of your heart pulse orange and blue, blue, blue.

Nothing will ever compare to this moment. Nothing. You will bottle this one up in a jar to place next to all the others you have stored, and when you are lonely, or hurt, or even when you’re doing just fine, you will uncork it to surround yourself with this memory and know that everything will be okay.

He loves you.

Fuck, he loves you?

You choke out his name with a sob, and he squeezes you even harder. When you can’t reply with anything else, he buries his face in the crook of your shoulder, his tears taking root and blossoming into beautiful vibrant fruit all along your rib cage.

He loves you.

Why can’t you seem to say it back? What the fuck is wrong with your tongue?

Maybe it’s because saying it doesn’t feel like enough. Like it’s laughable that there are words for this feeling because they don’t nearly represent what you harbor in your very being for this man.

There’s no way any words are enough. Not for him. Nor for you. Because right now, Yoongi needs something more. And you’re going to give him more than everything.

“Yoongi, I—”

He captures your lips in his, and you let him push you against his counter and consume you everywhere he wants to. Between his claims, your sobs have room to breathe. Which makes for a horrible showing of your attempting to say what you want to. “I… I can’t… Yoongi—”

Fingers press into the back of your head, a forehead smushing into yours and shutting you up completely. “I’m sorry,” he says, words rolling down the tracks your tears have walked. “I won’t ever be able to say that enough.”

“Baby,” you hiccup, resting a hand over one of his. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not.”

“It is.” You squeeze his hand, feeling the lovely digs of his knuckles in your palm. His scent wafts around you like an embrace, and you know there’s nothing quite like it. At all. “You’re okay, so I’m okay.”

After he plants a warm kiss on your temple, you feel his hands ball into fists at your ears. “I just—fuck.”

There’s no telling what he’s thinking about in that brain of his. But you need him to know that there’s nothing more for him to be sorry for. All you care about is that he’s present, responding, and himself.

“Babe,” you whisper, still not believing those three words coming out of his mouth. “I’m here.”

“I know.” He sighs, smushing into your lips and holding you so tenderly, yet so tight. As he laps at your tongue, you’re more than sure he can taste your rainfall.

None of this is real. Because you can’t believe it at all. Even as Yoongi continues his journey across your neck, your shoulders, your jaw, your face, you still can’t piece together that this is truly happening.

When you feel him hard on your pelvis, you remember that he didn’t get the same release you got earlier. But you’re not gonna be the one to suggest going again, all of this will be what he decides.

And what Yoongi decides is to pull you closer, breathing you in while you do the same. His kisses are never ending, and your hands roam languidly along his shoulders, his hair, stretching across the expanse of his back. One that has held the weight of the world and then some.

His name leaves your mouth in a sigh, your back arching as softly as the kisses being planted along your breasts.

“If you only knew,” he whispers, laughing to himself as he wraps an arm around your side.

“Knew what?”

“Nothing, babe.” You gasp into his next rough press to your lips. “You’re so—fuck.”

You said you’d let him lead. But as Yoongi starts to walk you into his bedroom again, you think about his injuries and feel more concerned after knowing they’re there. So you quietly stop him as you reach his bed, “Are you sure?”

“I’ll be alright, doll,” he whispers, lowering you down and smiling so tranquilly your heart lurches. “As much as I think you enjoyed the first time, this time will be better.”

Giggling, you fight the heat from searing your cheeks as you smile. “You enjoyed it more than I did, I think.”

“I don’t think so.” Yoongi smirks, getting up. “Lemme get a cond—”

“It’s okay,” you halt him with a hand, and he freezes.

Full stop. No movement. Not even a breath. “...What?”

“We don’t…” You swallow, stomach fluttering at his expression. “We don’t have to this time.”

Because Yoongi’s eyes have not left your face. “You sure?”

Then something causes you to smile. Knowing that if there’s anyone you want to do this with, it’s this man right here and now. There’s genuinely no one else in the world with whom you would wanna share this experience, and the fact that he’s still asking makes you emotional.

Cradling his face with the most tender touch you can imagine, you confirm, “Just for a little bit.” And you add something you think he needs to keep hearing. “I trust you.”

Gulping down any extra emotions spilling from your heart’s chalice, your words come out a little wobbled. “And I want to, if you want it, too.”

“I want what you want, doll.”

“Then it’s okay.”

Clothes on or off, you still feel so shy underneath him.

But this time, you vow to shove those feelings of unworthiness to the side. Because you are fully invested in this moment above all others. And Yoongi deserves more than you can give.

When he slowly tugs his sweats from your legs, you’re already choking back tears. As he climbs on top, you await the connection you never in your dreams would’ve imagined.

And when Yoongi stares at you one more time, you know exactly what he’s asking.

“Yes, my love,” you wisp into his skin, craning up to kiss him and swallowing his last slice of doubt. Knowing you’ll say it again and again and again.

His brows pinch as he kisses you—slow, purposeful, understanding. Then he positions himself, and you can physically feel his hand brush your cunt as he does so. If he ever asks if you felt him shake, you will deny it. But only for a year or two.

As soon as you feel him—only him, solely him—you swell with a current of emotion. And it pulls you all the way under when he’s fully sheathed inside.

“Holy fucking shit.”

“Yoongi—”

“Fuck.”

Simply having him inside, with no barriers or obstacles in between? You’re already close. There’s no early explanation, but you already feel overwhelmed enough to come.

No no no. You want this to last forever, so you wait for Yoongi to gather himself because he appears to be fighting, too.

Chuckling, you ask, “You good, baby?”

And your lover snaps his gaze to your face, bangs sweeping across your cheeks and eyes unblinking. “Yeah, just...” He stares at your inquisitive expression before whooshing out a harsh breath. “Just this is about to make me bust.”

You burst into laughter before admitting you were just thinking the same thing, and his slow grin makes you want to cry. “We’re not good at this.”

“No. You’re too good at this. I can’t even move.”

“Yes, you can,” you whine. “You wreck my shit all the time.”

Feeling a twitch more prominent than ever, you giggle as Yoongi puffs out pained amusement. “Doll, if you keep talking like that, I’m pulling out.”

“Okay, okay,” you surrender, loving how out of sorts he seems. He’s fighting for his life and you’re enjoying the hell out of it.

“You’re a little too perfect right now.”

Maybe one day you will agree with him. But that day is far from reach, your head shaking in quiet disagreement.

“You are.”

“Nowhere close,” you whisper.

His nose brushes against yours. “Say that again and see what happens.”

“Is that what you tell all the others fuck!”

His shove up your cunt makes you see stars. “What did I fuckin’ say?”

“What—”

Another launch has you careening through space, lip bitten and suppressing a hearty whine. “You think there’s someone else?” Again. “Hmm?”

Again.

You’re so dazed and mind-fucked to pieces that your speech is barely audible. But your chin is grabbed as you’re snapped straight, and your eyes try their hardest to focus on slitted ones above. “You’re gonna regret saying that.”

You just laugh, whine pinging sharp into the ceiling as he shoves forward so hard your whole body shifts upward. “Oh, yeah?”

Yoongi doesn’t respond with words, thrusting up again and sending you twisting and winding towards the edge unbelievably fast. “Uh huh.”

“Make me then,” you gasp out. “Make me really sorry.”

The sound Yoongi makes comes from deep within his stomach, the rumbling hum shooting right into your veins like liquid fire.

And the full-on attack he bursts into renders you completely speechless. Everything Yoongi does pulls you deliciously in all directions—his thrusts, his chain hitting his chest, his grip on your wrists, the way he snags your chin. Everything.

“Taking me so well like this.”

“I—”

“So fucking tight.”

Fuck fuck fuck it’s habitual for you at this point, and you unhinge your jaw a split second before he smacks the side of your face. Desire lowers your lids halfway as you feel empowered, and you don’t even recognize your voice as you order him on the spot. “Do it again.”

Yoongi doesn’t stop his pace as he keeps his eyes on you.

“Do it again,” you growl, fully limp and a groaning mess when he does exactly what you want.

Fuck, the pain feels good. So good that you reach up and choke him out. But the back of your head is grabbed before you feel hungry lips smash into yours. You feel your wrists pinned again by one large palm, air chilling for a moment before a hot mouth captures one of your nipples. “Oh, fuck, Yoongi!”

“Uh uh.”

“Please—please—”

You’re still tensing as he devours your chest below his shirt, strokes now slower but just as powerful.

Your arms still haven’t been freed, but there’s something about being under his control that has you loving this position. Without question. Maybe it’s the fact that you can see him now, losing himself just as he saw you washes in the throes of passion.

And he licks, sucks, lolls his tongue all over your tits, whispered praises sinking through your bosom as he keeps a grip on your wrists.

“Baby,” you gasp. “I’m close, I’m—”

“Shit.” Air whooshes over you before you feel your arms freed and him yank himself out, and you freeze as he unloads right on your stomach, a sharp cocktail of pride and shock in your gut.

Holy fuck, Yoongi was that close? Did he hold out as long as he could? Shit, he’s breathing so hard his jewelry shakes as it dangles.

You’re still so surprised that your arms are still locked into bends, and he glances up at you from his kneeled state. “Fuck,” he laughs, and is that… Is Yoongi shy? “Thought I could hold out.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” you assure through your own tiny chuckle. “Oh my god, I promise.”

He leans down to plant a heart fluttering kiss on your lips, but you hate how he looks pained on the way down.

Those hits he took… Now you kinda understand his perspective. Because now you want to avenge him in five hundred thousand ways—almost half as many ways as you want to show him how you feel.

“Stay there, beautiful,” Yoongi orders as he moves to get off the bed, wincing in passes. “I’m not done with you.”

Damn. He looks even more exhausted than before. “Baby, are you sure?”

But Yoongi walks right to his bathroom to retrieve a towel, and your eyes may as well transform into hearts when you watch him come back to you. So handsome, even now. Even when he’s simply holding a washcloth, hair completely mussed, soul sparkling and face bruised.

As he sits to clean your face before moving to your stomach, you can only observe his eyes. So experienced. Calm. At peace. When they drift to yours, it’s instinct that has you shying away. “What, love.”

Another reason to crumble inside. “I just… nothing,” you whisper.

And Yoongi finishes with the cloth before tossing it somewhere. “Tell me,” he says, lying down on the ribs with more damage. “I wanna know.”

“Come on this side,” you tell him, and he obliges without a word. “It’s a secret.”

“A secret?”

“Mmhmm.”

Yoongi settles before lifting your chin, rubbing an affectionate thumb over any tears still persevering on your cheeks. “I can keep those, you know.”

Smiling, you fold way too easily. “Okay, I’ll tell.”

When he leans in, your nervousness and excitement to tell him almost spoils your ability to do so. Like someone gifting a present while wanting to say what it is before it’s even opened.

“I love you, too,” you whisper, tears sprinting to your ducts as Yoongi freezes. When he looks at you, you can’t help but choke on a sob seeing his eyes get as red as the marks on his cheek. “And you deserve more than I could ever give.”

His eyes hold the heavens and the seas.

You’re right. Just saying it isn’t fucking enough.

You’re already liplocked again before you can think, saltwater on your face and you don’t even know whose eyes it came from.

Determined, Yoongi starts kissing a trail from your lips to your jaw, and you start to cry as he makes his own journey down the expanse of you.

All of you.

Is this what it feels like? Is all of this actually, genuinely real?

You hope so, because you feel devotion in each press of his lips, and every touch will be remembered in its own right. Its own pocket of time.

Every single stop.

It almost feels divine when his mouth reaches your folds, lapping at your essence and swirling around your clit. When you say his name, Yoongi says nothing, instead palming your thighs and eating you out like he has all the time in the world.

Swelling, you already feel close.

But the way he gets you to fantasia is so natural that you slide into your quivers seemlessly. The transition into your heaven flows like a stream, and your waves engulf his tongue and coat his mouth without trouble.

This is what it feels like. What it feels like with Yoongi.

And you wanna keep making love until only sleep can take you from him.

Your hands jut into his hair, gasping as he keeps his pace, and no matter how you squirm he is dead set on holding you down until holy fuck you’re coming again.

How? What’s happening to you? This constant stream of release is shocking you to the point of crying out, and Yoongi groans into your orgasm and prolongs it with the whole press of his tongue.

“Holy fuck, baby—!” Another wave overcomes the next, and you outright quake in his hands, eyes rolling and vision blinking white. Muscles lock as you can’t keep up with the pleasure, and you’re mercilessly let go only for lips to descend on yours.

Your tears spill into your ears as you kiss him back, wrapping tired arms over his shoulders and raking in deep.

“Fuck.” And you feel his cock lodge against your entrance, and you’re amazed how hard he is again.

Does he want what you want? Is he ready again?

As Yoongi quietly gets up to get a condom, you’re amazed that he wants to keep going after everything that’s transpired. But, if he feels like you do, he’s ready to keep going until the sun comes up three whole times.

When he sits next to you, your better half appears shy as he bites the wrapper. “Don’t take this the wrong way.”

“Oh, I already know.”

“K. But god, I fuckin’ want to.”

You bite your lip to hold back your smile, remembering what he said a long time ago and bringing it back full circle for the next thing you both wanna try. “One day.”

Yoongi only grins.

And for the next hour, your lover, your secret, your home gives you everything he has, and you come for him more times than you ever have in your life.

Every time, he drags your pleasure out, expertly tearing you down with his movements and building your confidence up with his words. He tells you you’re perfect, and he disagrees when you disagree. When you find tears on your face, he kisses those away, too. When you feel along his silver, he simply watches you in silence.

No sadness, doubt, nor anger to be found.

After you physically can’t do any more, Yoongi lies at your side, silent as you play with his hair. You do your best to stay still, not wanting to accidentally push into any of his injuries that you’re gonna beg him to get checked in the morning.

Once he’s healed? That’s when you’ll never let go. Because you want to crush him into you completely. Mold into him, just so he can feel the brevity of your highest affection.

“I’m sorry for yelling,” you finally whisper. “But I really was so mad at you. All of you.”

“I know.”

“I don’t wanna lose you.”

“It won’t happen again.”

“That’s what you said last time.”

Yoongi stares, seeming to withhold something from you before he palms your cheek. “They were gonna follow us home if we didn’t, babe,” he reveals, snapping your heart back in two. “We all knew that.”

“Oh, fuck.” Everything hits you at once: why they stayed, why you and Taehyung had to leave. Why Tae didn’t bring you straight back to the house. And the burns at your eyes match the searing in your gut. “I didn’t… I didn’t think about that.”

When you start to cry, Yoongi sits up and hangs his head between his sweats. “You don’t need to think about shit like that,” he murmurs, sounding defeated as ever. “But we talked after you told us off. We won’t hide that from you anymore.”

Sniffling, you whisper out a thank you. But you don’t want Yoongi to feel like he has to distance himself, so you untangle him—slowly, gently–-before bringing him into your chest.

After dealing with all that and the tempest in his living room, this man still let you in. From the looks of things, there’s a lot that he had been fighting, and you’re more than appreciative that he opened his door. Not knowing how to put these feelings into words, you say the first things that come to mind. And for some reason, they feel heavier on the way out,

“Thank you for letting me in. It was raining really hard.”

Yoongi stiffens hard before holding you closer.

“Babe?”

No response. Just another batch of weighted quiet.

Worried, you tilt your head. “Hey. Look at me.”

If he stays right where he is, you’ll have to respect that decision. But he ends up pushing himself up, and as soon as you see moonlight catch on a falling tear, all your instincts reach for him, “Oh, fuck, come here.”

You surround him with everything you have, wanting every single bit of warmth birthed from his love to fill his space instead of yours. Whatever he needs, you will give. “It’s okay, baby,” you whisper, holding him so close but not nearly close enough.

Never close enough.

His face is buried in the crook of your neck, and you will let him live there whenever he needs to. “I’m not mad anymore, okay?” God, you hate how he’s still so silent. You get it, but you hate whatever made him default to this state. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

After light rain fills the room, your soul breaks at a sniffle, and you crush your love even tighter.

“This isn’t about that, doll,” Yoongi finally whispers, burying wet eyes further into your shoulder. “It’s just…”

It’s what? What’s he thinking about? Hopefully it’s not anything—

“It’s so fucking better when you’re here.”

When you choke out a sob, his body locks, words pouring from nowhere and everywhere. “I sleep better. Eat better. Fuck, I even feel better even if nothing else changes.”

“Yoongi…”

“It’s true.” Sighing, he sniffles again before letting his weight drop onto you in resignation. Or relief. “I mean that.”

“Then… Those three months…”

“One day, I’ll tell you everything,” he offers, making you wonder what the hell he’s been through in the past. And if it has something to do with that guitar he smashed to pieces. “But from now on, you can be here whatever you want.”

Many things have shifted tonight. As if an earthquake had upturned everything between the both of you, only peace has settled in its wake. A peace you had never felt before. As you brush fingers through his hair, you joke, “So I can come to those parties you host, too?”

“Those weren’t my idea, by the way. Jimin made me.” Kissing your shoulder, Yoongi continues to admit, “He was worried. And hoping you would show.”

Oh. That’s news to you.

“I knew you wouldn’t. But.” He exhales before nestling in further. “I did hope to see you, too.”

“It’s okay.” You rub the back of his neck, your fingers feeling nothing but warmth and the softness of his clothes. “It would’ve been too obvious.”

“What would’ve.”

“That I wanted you all to myself.”

“You already have that.”

When you stiffen, your words are tiny. “You know what I mean.”

Yoongi laughs soft, taking one of your hands in his and bringing it up for a kiss as you blurt, “My brother was the one that invited me. To come to those, I mean.”

The way he blinks is comical. “Huh.”

“I know.” It’s your turn to bring his hand close, kissing along his knuckles before you stare out the window behind him. “It makes me wonder if he knows.”

“What if he does?”

You snap your eyes right to his. “Does he?”

Yoongi watches your lips linger on his fingers before he tells the truth, “No.”

“Okay. But you’re sure I can stay?”

“Who do you think you bought those groceries for?”

Oh. Wait. “What?”

Grinning so sly, Yoongi reveals the plan he had all along, “I get you for a week, right?”

Oh. Holy shit. You cannot quite possibly deal with what this man is saying. That whole time you were shopping for his list… No wonder he was already done with dinner when you got there oh you’re gonna get him back for that.

Light bursts from your center as you grit out through a grin, “You sneaky little—” Pulling his tilted mouth in for another kiss, your heart pulses little pink stars as he leans in with a laugh, and you meet lips again and again until he slowly, reluctantly stops.

“One day,” he murmurs out of nowhere, and you flick your eyes to his. “I’ll be better.”

Of course he will. You have no doubts. But, just like he always does for you, you’re gonna start offering the same reassurance out loud, even if he knows it’s there.

And you can’t contain your little laughs at your own joke, despite him just staring into your face right after you crack it, “Don’t make it just one day, silly.”

Even if you’re very serious, it’s in your nature to lighten things up. Especially after hearing such wonderful news for what’s coming. Clutching a little bit of his shirt, you whisper with complete devotion,

“We’ll make it as many as we can.”

You hate how you feel him freeze, knowing what that means, what plaguing little thoughts are embedded in that tiny shift.

Yoongi’s still hesitant to accept.

Because you are, too. In many ways. But this man has been picking you up and making you stronger day after day—in both his presence and absence—that you can’t help but fight to do the same.

Does he ever think about you? Does he know that you’ll always be with him? No matter how close or far apart you are? You hope so. Because it’s so true that your heart is searing that promise into your soul, branding it as a reminder to reciprocate all this genuine love you’ve never been given before.

He loves you?

You still can’t accept that as fact.

…Maybe one day.

You chuckle to yourself, deciding to keep talking because Yoongi is still so very quiet. “At least. Until the day I get to meet my cat,” you huff in triumph. “Then I’m running away with her.”

It’s a perfect strike of a match. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You pretend to pout. “But I’m starting to think she ran away already and you won’t fess up.”

Yoongi laughs so suddenly you flinch. After a playful scoff, he tries to make you feel better, “She’s still here!”

“Lies.”

“How much are you betting, doll.”

“How much are you willing to lose, babe.”

“This much,” he finally says, pinching your sides and hissing laughter when you scream. “Maybe I’ll make you leave after all if you’re gonna be a problem.”

“You did threaten to kick me out before.”

“Huh? When?”

“That day I showed up,” you remind him through a chuckle. Thrown back to that first night, you start to see all the parallels between then and now. And how vastly different things have become. “Said you were gonna kick me out for hustling you.”

The glorious laughter from the depths of his belly makes you grin, and you cringe when his brows pinch in both laughter and pain. “I should’ve!”

He needs to get those hits healed. “You really should’ve.”

“Played me from the very start. You happy with yourself?” When you nod, Yoongi shakes his head. “Course you are.”

“You love it.”

“I do.” Your eyes meet, which proves dangerous for you because he bites his smirk before pulling you in for a kiss. “Thought I was gonna say it, huh.”

“No!” You lie. Because no, you certainly were not! “…Maybe.”

“Guess what.”

Suddenly paranoid, you give him a look, already expecting to be tricked again.

But Yoongi captures your lips without warning, curling your toes into sheets you’re now achingly familiar with. After a few passes, he shifts above, planting a hand at your side and letting his chain slide against your chest as he slots a leg in between yours.

Yet again, you think about that first night, that first time. The first of apparently, surprisingly, wonderfully unexpectedly many.

Who would’ve thought rain and a broken ego would bloom into something good? Who would’ve believed a person so close to your roots would be your home?

As he lets up with one last slow stroke of his tongue, you whisper, “What were you gonna say?”

At this, Yoongi spreads closed lips, taking his time planting a peck on your nose. “I just fucking love you, doll.”

Oh. He’s a menace and the most annoying tease on the planet.

When you can’t do anything but flee into his chest, Yoongi immediately laughs, forcing you back out of your little shell. “You can’t hide now, babe.”

“I can!”

Leaned forward in your struggle, you give him no choice but to swoop his head into your neck. Which backfires on you immensely because he decides it’s the perfect time to rasp deep against your ear, “I love fucking you, too.”

His name flies out of your mouth in disbelief and embarrassment, and his heightened amusement puffs into the burning column below your chin.

This is the moment something comes over you. Slams into you. Washes you in present nostalgia like lingering footsteps on a balcony.

And it hurts. It really, really hurts.

Instead of laughing along, you come down from your high, squeezing him like the pillow that couldn’t replicate his warmth for months. “I miss you.”

After a second, Yoongi questions, “How? I’m right here.”

You know that. You do. But with every hello there’s a goodbye, and you don’t want that this time. Especially now that your heart knows that his beats the same.

Breathy and shaken, you rest your head in his chest, hoping he doesn’t hear but does at the same time, “I still miss you.”

Strong fingers weakly press into your sides, and while you can’t see him, you know for a fact that his smile is gone. Because he also knows goodbye is coming again, and you can’t stay here forever as long as this is all a secret.

You feel a sigh wisp over your head before words that make no fucking sense follow it out, “I can’t do shit like this anymore.”

…What?

No. No no no he can’t be done just like that you both just confessed everything you need to fight say something anything anything—

“I wanna do this the right way.”

Oh.

Yoongi’s chest… It’s shaking.

Pushing yourself up, you search his eyes for answers. “What are you saying?”

When he looks at you, there’s a fire in his eyes that wasn’t there before. Or maybe it has been there all along, and he only needed a spark to set it ablaze. “I’m saying I’ll tell him, doll. Just me.”

Oh. Oh, shit. Didn’t he say not yet? Didn’t he say he needs more time? He said he’d figure it out what is with the sudden…

Your tears are automatic as Yoongi roams his gaze from one eye to the other, and he’s swallowing before taking a step. A step you didn’t think he’d make. One you didn’t have the courage to take yourself.

When he utters the words, your soul lets rain fall just as the storm resides.

And right as moonlight shines through his blinds.

“I’ll tell him everything.”

tbc. :)

so... how did it go! | join the server!

a/n: so. here we are, over two years and 250k+ words later. thank you for sticking with me if you're still here, and thank you for being the most amazing readers a writer could ever, ever ask for. if you can interact or let me know what you enjoyed/like, i would be eternally grateful. these two parts took all of me, and i'm gonna take a break for a little bit before starting on the next part. a/n 2: thank you for also being here despite the highs and lows! things have really weighed on me for awhile, which prevented me from working on this part forreal. but my mental feels a lot lighter now, and i am ready to keep running with y'all. so thank you for your support and encouragement, no matter how you show it! ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist ⇥ three tangerines masterlist

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agusfree · 10 months ago

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one of my ot7x reader fanfic favorite!!! The angst is 100% The fluff are amazing!I have read it a lot of times but still gives me comfort every time! I love it!!!

until the last star falls

— summary: it was a love you knew would never make it out alive without sacrificing a part of your happiness to receive a greater happiness. but for them, you’d go to any extreme to have them again, and for you, they will always remind you each day that you are theirs and that nothing can tear you apart, not even until the last star falls.

— pairing: underworld lords!bts x shield!reader

— genre: fluff, angst / reincarnation!au / poly!au / gods!au

— word count: 44.4k

— warnings: minor character death, car accidents, mentions of harassment, reincarnation, unrequited love, implied love making

— prompt: “in lifetimes before or after, you are my first and last love/s”

➵ epilogue

The flames ignite the land of the Underworld, crackling and illuminating the battle scene where a lone warrior stands at an arena filled with the creatures of the dead.

Yet the warrior does not falter, sword in hand, not even a battle cry leaving its lips.

The animals do not go to the warrior one by one, it runs in a frenzy in a crowd at all sides, never taking a moment of hesitation. That was never a word in their dictionary, they were animals after all.

Yet at the same time, hesitation was also not a word the warrior knew.

The armor he wears causes a bit of discomfort, they can tell, as if it is a little too heavy, yet he shows no mercy as the sword cuts through each creature that comes his way. He isn’t just a fighter, he’s a dancer. His body swerves and dodges effortlessly, blade lashing through the air with the same dance. It is the first warrior they’ve seen who made no noise.

A silent killer.

The last creature dies with a harsh piercing of his sword puncturing right into its heart. He stands up, forcing his sword out of its body with blood dripping to its tip but the warrior pays no mind.

They watch him steadily, waiting until the moment the brave warrior final takes off the mask around his head and their eyes widen.

It isn’t a man. It’s a woman.

Keep reading

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agusfree · 1 year ago

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Of Storms And Vampires // Ch. 1

Pairings: Vampire!Yoongi x Witch!Reader x Vampire!Jungkook

Summary: During the worst storm you have witnessed in your life, a bat crashes on your window. When you bring it inside your cottage to take care of it, you realize it isn't simply a bat but a baby vampire. Your past has come back to haunt you because Jungkook's sire is no one else but Min Yoongi, who you had left behind when you disappeared five years ago.

Genre: fluff, angst

Word Count: 9.1k+

The wind howled outside with the voice of a thousand lost souls. You had read somewhere that the breeze and the sounds of the night were the dead singing. If that were true, tonight they were screaming.

The storm had hit in the afternoon in full force, getting only worse since then. In seconds, the first few droplets turned into arrows of water falling from the heavens. Dark clouds overtook the sky, wiping out the sun and bringing the night early. Lightning struck every few minutes followed by loud thunder that sounded too close for comfort. You had sensed the storm brewing a few days ago but only yesterday you had realized how strong it was going to be. It was like all the rage of the Gods had been released at once.

The rain splattered on the windowpane relentlessly, a constant murmuring in the background interrupted only by the thunder. You could cast a silencing spell but you needed to be aware of what was happening outside and the sounds were comforting in a way. It was the music of lonely nights and disasters.

You were curled up in the overstuffed armchair next to the fireplace, a book on kitchen magic leaning on your thighs. The fire flickered and danced, flaming tendrils reaching for above. It was a calm night for you, almost peaceful. You had been casting protections against the storm on your house, your garden, and the small farmhouse of your animals for days. There was nothing to worry about, you were more than safe. But your mind kept going to the town. It was the worst storm this part of the world had seen in decades.

You flipped the page to the recipe for an antipyretic potion and breathed in the smoky scent of burning firewood. Your eyes scanned over the ingredients of the potion and you considered how it could be improved to better fit your magic, without losing its essence. It was hard changing existing recipes and spells but when done right, it could be very rewarding.

You sensed the presence before you heard the thud. It was small and weak, pulsing in flashes. Something had hit your window but you had only seen a black blur before it disappeared. You closed the book and lowered your feet from the couch, listening for any more noises. None followed. The rain continued like before.

The aura of something—someone—, that hadn't been there before persisted. You had to see what it was, maybe it was an injured animal that needed your help. The forest would lead them to you sometimes, both animals and humans in need.

You wrapped your black cloak around yourself and raised the hood. It was woven with enchanted thread for protection and stitched with intentions of blending in with your surroundings. The protection applied to the weather as well, it wouldn't completely spare you from the heavy rain but it would be more like going out during a mild rainfall instead of getting drenched within seconds.

Outside, the world was dark and ominous. Trees lurched and bent under the force of the wind, its strength was enough to uproot some smaller and more frail ones. The rain bounced off your cloak and thunder boomed overhead. You shielded your lantern underneath your cloak and, with your boots sinking into the wet earth, moved carefully toward where you had heard the sound. At first, you didn't see it in the darkness but when your eyes adjusted, you noticed the outline of the crumbled figure underneath the window.

The creature was small and it was shivering, probably both by the cold and the fear of the storm. You approached slowly, trying to seem non-threatening. It was a small bat, one of its wings bent at a weird angle and the other hiding its face.

"Hello, little guy," you said, sending some of your energy to the bat to soothe it. The wind swept your voice away but you still tried. "I'm going to have to pick you up and take you inside. You can't stay out here in the storm."

With a short incantation, you enchanted the lantern to float in place and slid one hand underneath the bat's small form, covering it gently with your other hand. It struggled a little but settled soon. By touch, you understood two things. It wasn't a normal bat but, in your hands, you were holding a vampire. And it was a very young one.

"I'm going to take care of you," you promised, cradling the vampire close to your chest. "You don't have to be afraid."

You rushed back inside, careful not to jostle him. You unclasped your coat, took off your boots at the entrance, and carried the baby vampire into the living room, sitting down on the armchair near the fire. His small body was trembling and the fire would calm the cold leeching on his bones. You laid him on your thighs to take a quick look at his injuries. There were a couple you could see at first glance, one of his wings was broken and there was a shallow gash on his belly.

You touched his forehead with two fingers and transferred some more of your energy to him. The vampire flinched but when he felt life seeping into his veins, his eyes—which were larger than any other bat you had seen—widened, looking at you in wonder.

“Stay here,” you advised, laying him on the armchair as you got up. “I’ll be back with a few things to treat your injuries. Don’t move too much.”

You kept most of your potions and salves in the kitchen, they were in jars and tins of various sizes stored in your cabinets. Various herbs tied together with thick strings were hanging from the ceiling and potted plants lined the windowsills. The counters were cluttered with multiple ingredients for potions and spells, from the most common ones like dried daisies, mint, and sea glass to some rare—or mostly avoided—ones like bleeding nightshade, dragon hair, and heart crystals.

You opened the cabinet that contained most of your medicinal potions and a few salves. You skimmed over the labels, reciting their properties in your head and contemplating which ones would be better suited for a vampire. In the end, you grabbed a vial of dark green liquid and a small bottle, the inside of which was reflective like a mirror. The first one was to fight off the effects of the cold, it wasn’t easy for vampires to get sick but the vampire was young and he had probably spent too much time in the storm. The second one was to ease the pain and speed up healing and its effects could last for as long as twelve hours. Before returning to the living room, you grabbed a platinum tin containing a salve that would accelerate the process of the skin stitching together.

The baby vampire had obediently stayed where you had left him, his eyes were half-closed and he was still shaking. There was a small pang in your heart for him. Baby vampires weren’t supposed to be alone for more than a few hours, they needed the presence of their sire like humans needed air. But here he was, alone in the forest with a witch and his sire nowhere in sight.

“I’m back,” you said softly. The vampire opened his eyes a little and turned his head in your direction. His eyes were so bright, much brighter than any vampire you had ever met. “I need to take care of your injuries now. You need to drink these, they are going to help you heal.”

The vampire eyed the potions but, surprisingly, he didn’t put up a fight, opening his mouth.

“Good boy,” you said and if the vampire was in his human form, you were sure he would be blushing. As much as vampires could blush. You poured the green potion in his mouth first and when he swallowed, he made a face of disgust. “I know it doesn’t taste great but it’s one of the best potions for this.” He tilted his head and to distract him, you started explaining to him what the properties of each potion were.

You applied the salve on his wound with careful fingers, he whimpered but didn’t snap at you like you had expected. He was pretty docile for a young vampire, who could get violent away from their sire’s protection. Then, you made a small cast out of some cloth for his wing.

“By tomorrow night, you will be able to shift back. We can see how much your arm has been affected then. But I believe you will make a quick recovery,” you said and the bat let out a chirp. “Please, in the future, avoid going out before or during storms. Your bat form isn’t strong enough to withstand this kind of weather. You’re very lucky you hit my window.” He made a squeaking sound and lowered his head at your admonishment. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Some of the most sensitive ingredients were kept in the refrigerator that was powered by magic. One of those ingredients, stored in a large jar, was human blood. It was one of the ingredients that was frowned upon but was necessary for your type of magic and a very powerful asset. You poured a good amount into a bowl and put the rest back in the fridge.

The scent of blood made the vampire’s head shoot up as soon as you walked into the living room. “Stay there, I’m bringing it to you.” The vampire made a few more chirping noises as you carried the bowl and set it in front of him. He looked at you and when you nodded, he dived head-first into the blood. “It isn’t fresh but it will have to do. I know that baby vampires need blood.”

He gulped down the blood hungrily and when the bowl was licked clean, he looked at you with his large eyes.

“That’s enough for now. I’ll give you more later,” you said, picking up the bowl. “Now, rest.”

Vampires stayed in nests with their sires while they were still young, so you tried to make a mock nest for the small bat. On the floor by the fireplace, you bunched up a fluffy blanket, placed two pillows on top, and laid the vampire inside. You thought you heard him sigh as he settled, making himself comfortable. After the events of the day and the two potions, it didn’t take long for him to fall asleep.

Near this side of the forest, there was only one small town from where he could have got lost. You tried to remember if there were any vampires that lived in the town but came up blank. You didn’t visit the town often and your interactions with its inhabitants were rare. Whatever you learned about them, you learned from Seokjin, who took it up to himself to fill you in on all the gossip he could remember. And he had a very strong memory.

You stayed in the living room for a while longer, picking up the magic book where you left off and throwing glances at the bat every few pages. He was sleeping soundlessly, shifting only when thunder struck somewhere nearby. Soon, you closed the book again and after adjusting the blanket around the vampire’s small form, you retired to your room for the night.

The next morning, you woke up to the sounds of the storm raging outside. The wind whipped the roof and the walls and the rain falling was enough to fill up a river. Outside the window of your bedroom, the world was being suffocated in gray. The sun had disappeared, hidden behind the endless expanse of dark clouds. The storm would last through the day and hopefully calm during the night. However, the signs showed that it wouldn’t be gone soon.

You dressed for the day and braided your hair to keep it out of your face. There were things you had to do, despite the storm outside. Most importantly, there was a baby vampire that needed your attention in the living room.

Said vampire was awake and lazying around in his makeshift nest. He blinked slowly at you before letting out a couple of chirps, shaking his not-injured wing in what you guessed was the bat equivalent to waving at you. You had to admit that he was adorable as he greeted you enthusiastically.

“Good morning. How are you feeling? Did you sleep well?” you asked and the bat nodded his head. He gestured to his belly with his wing and you were glad to see that the skin was already stitching itself together. “This looks good, you are healing quickly. By nightfall, it will only be a small scar and that will go away soon too. But you will still need to be careful, don’t go flying into a storm again.” He squeaked lowly and lowered his head, making you giggle. “Now, let me take a look at your wing.”

His wing was also healing nicely and, as you had predicted, he would be able to turn back into his human form, if he wanted to, by the end of the day. It would make communication much easier although you weren’t sure if you would prefer that over the cute bat. You had found over the years living alone in your cottage in the forest that you were better at interacting with animals than with people.

You let go of his wing and the vampire squeaked and pointed to his belly and then his mouth.

“Are you hungry? Do you want some blood?” you asked and he responded by pleased chirping. “Okay, I’ll bring some to you since you have been a good patient.”

You poured some blood for him in the same bowl as yesterday. The jar of human blood was enough to get you through more than a year of potions and spells but it could barely last for two days as the main food source of a vampire, especially a young one that needed feeding regularly. You hoped the storm would ease by tomorrow and you would be able to look for his sire. You would have to be on guard because sires were overprotective of their fledglings and if they believed you had been keeping them apart for no reason, it could get ugly.

You placed the bowl in front of the vampire, who chirped in thanks and started drinking messily. Blood stained the fur around his mouth and he looked almost angry at how good the blood tasted. For now, your priority was to take care of him, you would have to worry about his sire later.

While the vampire was drinking his blood, you bustled around the kitchen. You made a quick and simple breakfast for yourself, a cup of tea with ginseng for energy and bread with homemade strawberry jam. Like every morning, you lit up a fire in the hearth and filled your cauldron with water and a crystalline blue powder you had made for cleansing. Something was always brewing in a witch’s cauldron.

You were going to make a specialized potion for the little vampire to enhance his healing abilities. The effects of the one you had given him last night would have worn off and personalized potions were more effective. Opening and closing cupboards and drawers, you gathered a few of the ingredients you would use, consulting a recipe from a magic book focused on magical creatures.

After a few minutes, the cauldron was clean and ready for work. You measured the first few ingredients and put them in. They needed to boil a couple of hours on their own before you added a pinch of dried rosemary and red oyster mushrooms. Brewing potions was like performing a ritual, it wasn’t only about the ingredients and the quantities, it was about the timing, the intentions, and each action itself. You had to sense what the potion needed and how it needed it done. Some potions could take days to make and the more difficult ones could be ruined by a single wrong move or even a bad thought. It was a delicate process but you enjoyed it.

The rain persisted but you had to go outside to feed the animals and make sure that their protections were holding up. The storm must have scared them and your presence would calm them.

The vampire had closed his eyes again, the bowl in front of him empty. He opened one eye to look at you and as you picked up the bowl to return it to the kitchen, he bumped his head against your hand.

“Do you like petting?” you asked, stroking between his ears. He closed his eyes and wiggled happily at the attention. “You do, don’t you? You are really cute, such a cute bat.” He preened at the praise and you cooed. “I’ll go outside for a bit but I’ll be back soon, okay?”

The vampire chirped in answer although he didn’t seem happy to be deprived of petting. You threw on your cloak to protect yourself from the wild weather outside and made your way to the small farmhouse.

It was only a few meters away from the house, through a cobblestone path that at least saved your boots from sinking in the mud. The farmhouse had been there when Seokjin had first led you to this place but it had been in a much worse condition than the house. The roof had crumpled in and the walls would have followed soon, leaving nothing but a heap of decayed wood. The renovations lasted a couple of months, accomplished mostly by you, Seokjin, Jimin, and a few people from the town that Seokjin had called when he realized there were a few things that, magic or not, you simply couldn’t do.

The ground of the farmhouse was dry, evidence that your protection spells were still holding strong. The familiar sounds of the animals greeted you, the bleating and the clucking, the hooves against the ground, and the flapping of wings. There were ten chickens, six goats, and Daisy, your horse, who had got her name from her fondness of eating daisies. They all had their own fenced areas with enough space to roam and stretch their limbs—the fence of the chicken coop almost reached the ceiling because your chickens could somehow fly much higher than normal chickens could.

You visited all of the animals, petting them and replenishing their food. None of them liked the thunder and the wind howling but, luckily, they understood they were safe inside. They surrounded you and you spoke softly to them. You weren’t an animal witch but you were good with them. You had learned quickly and you had been surprised to find that animals enjoyed your company.

Last, you went to Daisy. You stroked her neck, fed her apples, and promised to take her on a long walk to the fields at the end of the forest and let her gallop for as long as she liked. Forests weren’t the most suitable places for horses but Daisy seemed to like it well enough as long as you took her to the fields from time to time.

Returning to the house, you found the vampire squirming and agitated. Apparently, he didn’t like staying still for such a long time, so you carried him with you to the kitchen. His eyes followed you while you worked on the potion so you started explaining to him what you were doing. You weren’t sure how much he understood or how much he knew about witchcraft but he was an attentive audience. He made sounds whenever you said something interesting and he stopped hopping around the counter whenever you told him to.

For lunch, you heated up some leftover tomato soup from the previous day and you fed the bat a plum. Once upon a time, there was a vampire you had been close with, or you had been getting there, and he had told you that plums were his favorite food to eat when he was in bat form. The little one on your table must be the same because he devoured it.

He kept you company for the rest of the day and at some point he somehow ended up clinging on your shoulder and refused to budge. He didn’t weigh much so you didn’t mind and you guessed he was missing his sire and needed some contact to stay grounded.

In the afternoon, the potion was ready. First, you poured the potion into the bat’s mouth like you had done the previous night and then filled his bowl with blood. Your work in the kitchen was done and you returned to the living room, settling in the armchair. The vampire curled up in your lap and you petted his head while you flipped through a random book from your stack on the floor. You had run out of space so your books were everywhere now. You should hire someone to make more shelves for you.

The vampire was getting drowsy so you left him in the armchair and you went to the kitchen to make a cup of tea for yourself. It was part of your routine to have a cup of tea along with some baked goods in the afternoon. Living away from civilization, you had discovered the comfort of mundane moments and the importance of a nice routine.

You boiled water and looked through your jars of tea. They were your own varieties, you had mixed their ingredients with light enchantments to boost their benefits. Black tea was one of your favorites to drink in the afternoon so you chose one with maple and vanilla pieces, hazelnuts, nutmeg and honeybush. It was fitting for the weather. The sweet honey fragrance mingled with vanilla tickled your nose when you opened the jar. You filled the teapot with the hot water and added two tablespoons of tea to the infuser.

In the 4 minutes the tea required to brew, you cut a piece of the apple pie you had made yesterday and plated it. The aroma of the soft, spiced apples and the brown sugar drifted in the kitchen. A tiny bit of magic kept anything you baked as fresh as the day they were pulled out of the oven. Another thing you discovered while living in the forest was your love for baking. When you lived in the city, you had dabbled in baking, occasionally baking chocolate chip cookies and cinnamon rolls, but it wasn’t until you moved here that you truly fell in love with it.

You arranged everything in a tray, along with a smaller cup in case the vampire wanted to try, but you stopped short at the door to the living room. The tray almost slipped from your hands at the sight of a young man sitting where the little bat used to be. He looked young, with large eyes and messy dark hair that reached past his ears. A silver ring glinted on his bottom lip and more silver earrings adorned both of his ears. He was wearing all black and you could see the beginnings of a tattoo underneath the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

“Hi,” he said, sheepishly waving at you. “I’m sorry. Did I scare you? I didn’t mean to.”

You had to get yourself together, you had known since the beginning that it wasn’t a regular bat you were treating but a vampire that would need to turn back into his other form at some point. You had expected it, it was obvious that it would happen at some point. You shouldn’t be surprised. But you hadn’t expected him to look… like that.

“You didn’t scare me, I was just surprised,” you said, keeping your voice steady. “Sorry, I didn’t expect to see you in this form.”

He fidgeted with his sleeves, making himself smaller. “Did you like my other form better? I can change back. It just makes me feel a little weird when I’m a bat for too long. But I can change back, I can.”

“No, no,” you rushed to say. “I don’t mind really. This form is nice as well.”

Mentally, you slapped yourself, you couldn’t be more awkward if you tried. At least, the vampire looked pleased at that, a small smile making its way to his face. It was unfair that he was cute even in his human form.

You approached and put the tray down on the coffee table. “It’s good that you are back in this form. Now, we can finally meet. What is your name?”

“Jungkook,” the vampire replied shyly and you offered your own name. “I wanted to say thank you for taking care of me. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t taken me in. I’m not sure if I would have made it.” His smile tightened and you shuddered just thinking about it. “I’m really thankful for everything. If there is any way for me to repay you, I will do anything.”

“There is no need for that. I wanted to help you and it was the right thing to do. Just promise me you will be careful in the future. Your bat form is small and you saw how dangerous storms can be for you.”

Jungkook nodded, abashed. “I won’t, I promise. I thought I had some time before it hit and I wanted to explore the forest. I’m really sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry to me, it’s you who was flung from tree to tree last night.” He chuckled a little at that. “Do you want some tea? It’s black with maple and vanilla.”

“Yes, please,” he said politely.

You picked up the black ceramic teapot and paused. “I brought a cup for you because I thought you would be in your bat form. Would you like a mug?”

“No, no, the cup is fine,” Jungkook insisted.

You poured some into the cup first and then into your mug. The cup was from the same set as the teapot, black and with the same engravings of flowers and vines. Your mug was a gift from Seokjin during his pottery phase, like many of his obsessions you weren’t sure how or why it started. It was weird cups at first that looked like melting pieces of clay but he got pretty good by the end. Before he moved on to his next obsession, he was able to make things like your mug, which was shaped like a cauldron and he and Jimin had painted it to look like the night sky.

Jungkook hugged his cup in his hands, bringing it close to his face. He breathed in the sweet aroma of tea and closed his eyes in delight.

“Do you want some honey or sugar?” you asked, taking a seat on the couch. “I usually drink my own without and I didn’t think to bring any.”

“No, it’s okay.” He took the first sip and you could tell that it wasn’t okay. He frowned, but not in the way you had seen when he was drinking blood, and pursed his lips. He didn’t say anything but it was clear he was trying to pretend that it wasn’t too bitter for him.

You chuckled and set your mug down. “I’ll bring some honey for you.”

“Thank you,” Jungkook said, wincing subtly.

You got the jar of honey from the kitchen and added two teaspoons to his tea. That way, he liked it enough that he asked for a refill. While you drank your tea together, he explained to you that he was in town for a few days visiting some friends with his sire. He had spent all of his life in the city and the small town and the forest fascinated him. He knew that there was a storm coming but he hadn’t realized the extent of it. He had been planning to go for a quick flight to stretch his wings before it hit, he hadn’t got to explore the forest yet and he was curious. Unfortunately, the storm hit early and the wind had dragged him deeper into the darkness.

“I thought I wouldn’t make it out,” he admitted quietly, holding his cup close to his chest. “It was so strong and so loud and I couldn’t fight it. I’m not very strong in my bat form, I’m still young and I don’t have much practice. I couldn’t hold on to anything and I couldn’t find shelter. I was thinking about my sire and how sad he would be. He must be very worried.”

The bond between sires and their fledglings was very strong and for the first months after the turning, some sires wouldn’t even let their fledgling out of their sight. For years, the sires would take care of the younger vampires, help them adjust, and teach them everything about their new life. It wasn’t commonly understood but sires needed their fledglings as much as their fledglings needed them. You had read that there was a part of them, an echo of their own blood from the turning in their fledgling’s bloodstream, that called for them to be by their side.

“The storm is messing up with any means of magical communication but as soon as it calms a little, I can send a message to town,” you offered. “We can let him know you’re safe here until the worst passes and you can safely return to town. The townspeople know me, it will be alright.”

“Thank you.” You had lost count of how many times he had thanked you since he had changed forms.

You finished your tea and roped him into a game of cards to distract him from the thoughts of his sire. He got engrossed into the game quickly and he won two out of the three rounds you played. He had a competitive streak and he learned quickly the rules of every game you taught him.

It had been a few months since you had played cards with someone. Jimin had been the one to teach you and you had only ever played with him and Seokjin. It was fun to share this with someone else, even when he pouted when he lost. You didn’t care about winning very much so you didn’t mind and his excitement when he won was heart-warming to watch.

He jumped when loud thunder cracked through the night and you told him that he didn’t have to worry. You had applied strong protections on the house and the garden. And the forest protected you too. The storm was interfering with its magic but nothing could change its core and nothing could turn it on you. Turning on you would be like turning on itself and the forest was too wise for that.

You played games until well into the night. Jungkook’s eyes were growing heavy and his mouth stretched in small yawns. It was time to go to sleep. Jungkook curled up on the couch and you carried two knitted blankets to the living room and wrapped them around him. His cheeks grew rosy and he giggled at being tucked into bed like a child.

You left the fire burning in the hearth to keep him warm in the night.

“Goodnight, Jungkook. Have sweet dreams.”

“Goodnight,” he said, muffled by the blankets. “Sweet dreams.”

There was a change in the air like the turning of the tides. Your limbs were lighter and something different was lingering on your skin. You padded to the window and drew the curtains to the side. The sky was cloudy but it was no longer the suffocating darkness of the day before. The trees swayed and the rain persisted but it wasn’t attempting to drown the earth anymore. The storm was breaking.

You threw on one of your long black skirts and a brown sweatshirt and climbed down the stairs to the living room. Jungkook was sitting up on the couch and already looking in your direction when you walked inside. Supernatural hearing, you forgot about it sometimes.

"Good morning,” you greeted him. “The storm is slowly calming down. I will probably be able to send a message to the town and by tomorrow, it will be safe for you to return.”

“Thank you so much,” Jungkook said. He was fidgeting with his sleeves again but his smile was unmistakable. “I hope my sire will forgive me for being so careless.”

“I’m sure he will. For now, breakfast blood?”

Jungkook’s smile widened as he eagerly agreed. You couldn’t offer him the amount of blood he was used to, you had to ration it to make sure that it would last. It would be very difficult to get human blood once your supply was gone.

You hadn’t reached the kitchen yet when you sensed someone pass through your wards. The presence was familiar, the knowledge sitting in a hidden pocket in your brain and you couldn’t touch it. Jungkook hurried to the window, the path leading up to the door could be seen from there. He let out a small yelp before bolting to the door and throwing it open.

“Yoongi!” he shouted the name that had circled your mind for years. The presence was in your house and the name fit like a glove. Against your better judgment, you walked towards them to see for yourself. It could be someone else, couldn’t it? You just had to take a look.

He was clinging to Jungkook, hugging him so tightly it looked painful. Half of his face was hidden against the fledgling’s shoulder but it was unmistakably him. The memories were as clear as when you made them, they resurfaced stronger than any of your nightly musings bordering on regrets. His hair was longer than you remembered, reaching past his nape, his cat eyes were clenched shut and his skin was white porcelain. He was also drenched to the bone.

“I looked for you,” he said and his voice awoke more memories. “I looked for you everywhere I could– But the storm was too strong. We were locked inside for so long. They wouldn’t let me out. Don’t ever do that to me again, do you hear me? Don’t ever disappear on me like that. I was going out of my mind.”

“Never, I promise.” Jungkook was hugging him just as tight and although he was bigger in stature, he made himself smaller in the older vampire’s arms. “I’m alright. I was safe here. The wind carried me here and I was well taken care of. I should introduce you,” he said with excitement, pulling back a little.

Yoongi opened his eyes, their dark color made your heart beat faster. He looked at you behind Jungkook and when your eyes connected you could see the myriad of emotions passing through them. First, there was surprise, then disbelief and confusion and all the minor ones in-between. You had disappeared from one day to another, leaving no trace behind and no trail to follow. He must have believed he would never see you again.

Oblivious to the change in the atmosphere, Jungkook introduced you to each other, telling his sire how well you took care of him and that you kept him warm and well-fed and healed his injuries. You couldn’t read Yoongi, there must have been a point in your history that you had been able to but that was lost now.

There was silence after the introductions were over. Jungkook’s eyes jumped between the two of you. “Did I say something?”

“No, no, we just– We knew each other. In another life,” you said. Before you had enough of the wary glances and offending questions and fled the city. Before the manifestation of everything you had been afraid of.

Yoongi’s lips parted and he looked away. “We did. In another life,” he repeated bitterly.

“Oh.” Jungkook stood awkwardly between the two of you, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

Thunder boomed outside and you rushed to close the door that they had forgotten half-open during their reunion. That served to remind you about the very important fact that Yoongi was wet enough to have taken a long dive in the lake.

“I’ll bring some towels, you’re dripping,” you said and climbed upstairs.

It was an escape but a necessary one. It gave you some time to think. Jungkook’s sire was Yoongi. Yoongi, who you had known for years when you lived in the city, who you had tried to forget for years while you lived in this cottage but gave in once you realized it was impossible. He starred in most of your favorite memories from the city. And that’s exactly what he was supposed to be. A memory.

What was he doing in your forest? You had run so far away from the city that no one from your past would be able to find you. Except one. You had one link left to your old life, Seokjin. Seokjin was the one who had shown you this cottage hidden in the forest that spilled into his hometown. When the incident had happened and you were desperate for an escape, he had been your savior and he had swore not to tell anyone about your whereabouts. Seokjin was also Yoongi’s friend.

The dots were connecting. Seokjin and Jimin were the friends Yoongi and Jungkook were visiting.

You grabbed two forest green towels and paused in the hallway. Seokjin hadn’t told you. The few times you had seen him in the past weeks, he hadn't mentioned anything about Yoongi. A twinge of hurt scraped at your heart. He should have told you. If he knew Yoongi would be visiting, why wouldn’t he tell you? He knew who Yoongi used to be to you. Had he thought you wouldn’t be able to handle it? No one was supposed to know you were here but that was all over now.

You took a deep breath and returned downstairs. Yoongi was where you had left him, a small puddle of rainwater pooled at his feet. Jungkook’s clothes were also a little wet from their embrace but it was nothing compared to his sire.

“Here,” you said, handing him the towels.

“Thank you. I’m sorry for your floor.”

“The floor can be cleaned. You will catch your death like this.”

He rubbed his hair with the towel. “I’m already dead.”

You scoffed. “That doesn’t work on me. I know vampires are not as indestructible as you would like to think. I have a spell to get all the water out of your clothes but I haven’t tried it on clothes that are currently being worn.”

Yoongi looked down at his drenched clothes. “It’s not that bad.”

“You are making a small lake on the floor,” you pointed out. “You didn’t even take an umbrella with you?”

“It was no use against the wind.”

The wind wasn’t so bad now but you guessed it must have been worse when he set out to find Jungkook. He could have been looking for hours before he stumbled upon your house. Usually, the forest helped along the ones who looked for you but the storm was messing with its energy.

Yoongi gave you permission to use the drying spell on his clothes, his face scrunching up when the water was removed. You didn’t use it often because it left the clothes stiff and weird to the touch for some time. They turned too dry but in the present situation, you didn’t have many options.

Jungkook was still looking between the two of you in confusion as he held on to Yoongi’s arm, although witnessing the spell had put a smile on his face.

“Now that you’re dry, let’s move to the living room,” you said. “I’ll get the fire going and make some tea. None of you are going out in the rain.”

Yoongi studied you and you felt naked under his eyes. He was the only person from your past, other than Seokjin, that you had seen since you fled. He knew a version of you that no longer existed and you hadn’t been prepared for that. In the end, you should have known. The past always comes knocking regardless of how long and how far you run from it.

Yoongi didn’t pretend to turn you down to be polite but silently followed you to the living room. Jungkook pointed to the armchair by the fire that he had claimed for himself and gushed about how comfortable and soft it was. However, he didn’t sit there in favor of staying close to Yoongi on the couch. It was clear he had missed his sire and he needed to be as close to him as possible.

You picked up a few logs of wood from the metal box near the fireplace and stacked them inside. You added two layers of kindling and reached for the matches.

“How do you know each other?” Jungkook asked, breaking the fragile silence.

Yoongi looked at you, staying quiet. He was going to let you share as much as you wanted. You were surprised that he wasn’t asking more questions himself. Maybe he hadn’t cared as much as Seokjin had told you. Maybe it was the shock.

“I used to live in the city,” you started. “I went to the Academy of Magical Arts and Sorcery and we met on campus. Yoongi was visiting a friend of his.”

“Namjoon?” Jungkook asked and Yoongi nodded.

Namjoon was another person who you hadn’t seen in years. He was a powerful witch but he had chosen the academic route and didn’t practice magic much. You hadn’t been very close but you could have got there. You enjoyed his company and you could talk for hours. You would see him in the library and around campus and you had coffee together a few times and talked about magic theory and how energy flowed through living things. Seokjin was your only link to him as well and you had learned from him that he was still teaching at the University and he had been promoted from assistant professor to professor. When the news reached them, Seokjin and Jimin had traveled to the city to celebrate with him.

“We haven’t spoken since she left the city,” Yoongi said it simply like you had decided to leave one day instead of fleeing in the night, taking the last train to a town in the middle of nowhere. That had been five years ago.

You lit up a match, the action familiar and comforting, and threw it between the logs. The fire spread slowly, enveloping the wood. You stroked the flames with the poker, pushing and pulling the logs until the fire was burning strong.

You got up and wiped your hands on the soot-stained towel that hung from the same hook as the poker. “I’ll make some tea to fend off the cold.”

In the kitchen, you put on your apron with the embroidered mushrooms and marigolds, taking a moment to pull yourself together. It felt like everything was spinning out of control. The ghosts of your past never disappeared but they hadn’t been more than ghosts until now.

You focused on the task at hand, setting the water to boil and opening the cabinet that housed your tea jars. Echinacea and elderberry tea with dried angel lotus leaves was the most effective for preventing colds and boosting the immune system. Its taste was also nice and soothing.

You were putting spoonfuls of the tea blend into the strainer when Yoongi walked inside. His footsteps were soundless and you felt his presence before you saw him. Vampires’ energies were different than most creatures. They weren’t alive, not exactly, and energies were tied to a creature’s life force. Therefore, for vampires, their energies were unique and as a witch who could feel life and death very acutely, you could detect them easily.

“Have you been here all this time?” he asked after a few moments of silence.

The sounds of boiling water caught your attention, steam was coming out of the kettle’s spout. You removed the kettle from over the fire and poured the water into the teapot.

“I have,” you replied. There was nothing else to say, any explanations you could offer were useless.

“That’s it? That’s all after all these years?” Yoongi asked.

You couldn’t look at him, fiddling with herbs there was nothing to do with and glancing at the large clock on the wall for the brewing time. “I don’t know what else to say. You know why I had to leave. I couldn’t stay after what happened.”

“And you chose to disappear without a word?” When you didn’t answer, he continued. “I was sure that Seokjin knew where you were but he swore he didn’t. He said you disappeared without telling him anything and that he hadn’t heard from you since. Regardless of how many times I asked, it was always the same answer.”

“I asked him to say that to anyone who asked,” you admitted. “I didn’t want anyone to know where I was.”

From the corner of your eye, you saw Yoongi shake his head slowly in disbelief. “Why? Why didn’t you want me to know?”

It hurt to keep quiet but there was no way to make this better. You couldn’t tell him that you had been afraid although a part of you knew Yoongi wouldn’t judge you, like Seokjin wouldn’t judge you. But your fear had been too big and all-consuming, fear of what he would think and also fear of what you could do. Your magic had proved to be much stronger than you had believed and you needed to regain control of it to ensure you wouldn’t make the same mistakes.

And Yoongi was too strong of a link to the city. Your feelings were too much and too complicated. If he had known where you had run to, there was a chance he would have followed and it wouldn’t be only Seokjin you had doomed to a life in a small town he hadn’t wanted to return to.

Yoongi sighed. “That's all then. I came here to thank you for taking care of Jungkook,” he said, breaking the silence. “I will forever be in your debt. Jungkook told me of how you found him and how you cared for him. I was out of my mind when I couldn’t find him and I realised he was out in the storm alone. I wouldn’t be able to bear it if anything had happened to him, I would never forgive myself. Thank you for being there for him when I couldn’t.”

“I will tell you what I told him, there is no need for thanks or debts. I wanted to help him and I did. The fact that he is a very cute bat also helped, I couldn’t resist.”

Your attempt at a joke was rewarded with a weak chuckle. “It’s those big eyes. It’s impossible to tell him no.”

“I can imagine that.” You glanced at the clock again. The tea was ready. “I guess you are visiting Jin. Now that the weather won’t interfere as much with my magic, I should send him a fire message to let him know that you are both here and safe. Knowing him, he will be fretting over where you are and driving Jimin crazy.”

“That’s a good idea. I didn’t tell him I would be leaving in the morning,” Yoongi confessed. It made sense, Seokjin wouldn’t have let him leave while the rain was still this heavy and definitely not without an umbrella. “Should I take this to the living room?” He gestured to the tray you had set up with the teapot and the three mugs.

“Yes, go ahead. The tea is ready.”

Yoongi picked up the tray and left the kitchen without saying anything more. There was a painful tightness in your throat as your shoulders slumped. You had to send that message to Seokjin but your feet were rooted to the ground and your knees were weak. You had thought you would never see Yoongi again and although it hurt, after years you had made peace with it. All that was [changed] by the storm and you didn’t know how to feel about it.

You opened one of the drawers and pulled out a crinkled loose leaf of paper from the stack you kept there. On the counter, there was a pen next to the old witchcraft recipe book you had been studying the day before. You gripped the pen and debated how you should start the letter. He had known Yoongi was coming to town and yet he had told you nothing when he knew why you had run away and why no one should know where you were. He was supposed to be your best friend and best friends looked out for each other. For the first time during your friendship, that wasn’t true.

Suppressing your stupid anger, you wrote a quick message letting him know that Jungkook and Yoongi were safe in your house and that you would send them back to town once the rain and the forest’s magic calmed down. Towards the end, you added that you would like to know about any future guests of his from the city. You considered crossing over the bitterness that bled into the page but you let it be. Using black chalk, you drew the sigil for the fire message at the top right corner.

You lit up a blood-red candle and burned some thyme over the flame first. You recited the incantation while you held the message over the fire and watched it consume the paper. The magic was a lazy tingle at your fingertips and a warmth curled in your chest.

Yoongi and Jungkook were talking in hushed voices that were swiftly silenced when you walked back to the living room. The tea had been poured into the mugs but they were untouched. You picked up one of them on your way to the armchair. Conversation was stilted. Jungkook tried to alleviate the awkwardness but was soon shrinking into his sire’s side, clutching onto his mug of tea with both hands.

“The rain is growing weaker,” you observed. “The forest’s magic is settling, it can be unpredictable during storms and it’s dangerous to tread through it when it is like that. It will be best for you to return to the town before it picks up again.”

There would be another spike in a couple of hours before it broke in the night. That’s how storms like this one worked and what your senses were telling you.

You accompanied them to the door and they thanked you again. It felt like you didn’t deserve it with your past mistakes clinging to you like vices. Jungkook was quieter than last night when you were practically a stranger.

“Here,” you said, handing Yoongi the only umbrella you owned. It was a black one with little mushrooms Jimin had painted on it and enchanted them not to be washed away by rain. “I don’t use it much and I won’t be going into town for a few days. Seokjin can bring it back when he finds time.”

“Thank you,” Yoongi said.

You picked up your cloak from the coat stand and offered it to Jungkook. “And this is for you. It’s charmed to protect you from rain.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened, making him look like a baby deer. “I can’t take your cloak,” he said, shaking his head. “You might need it.”

“Don’t worry about that. I don’t have anywhere to go.” You would have to go to the farmhouse later in the day but it was only a short distance away and a little rain wouldn’t phase you. You took it up to yourself to wrap the cloak around him and pull the hood over his head. “I didn’t nurse you back to health for you to get sick now.”

Suddenly, there was a blur of movement and strong arms were wrapped around you. Jungkook was hugging you and, when the shock wore off, you hugged him back.

“Thank you for finding me,” he said, his voice sounding a little wet.

“If anything, you found me,” you joked. You pulled back, although you didn’t want to let go of him. “Go now. The forest will lead you to the town.”

“I will bring the cloak back to you,” Jungkook promised before he and Yoongi left. On the path, Yoongi glanced back at you over his shoulder but you averted your eyes and closed the door.

Five years and your heart still fluttered. But it was different. There was guilt tainting everything surrounding him. You had imagined meeting him again countless times, of course, you had, mostly during restless nights and too quiet mornings, but it hadn’t played out like this in any of your scenarios. It was too… simple, too mundane, even though your heart was still racing, but it also felt a little like the end of the world.

Their mugs were sitting empty on the coffee table. You placed them on the tray to take everything back in the kitchen and you realized that you had forgotten to at least put some cookies in a plate for them. Vampires didn’t eat much human food but it was simple courtesy to offer.

There was a spark in the air, followed by another, before flames erupted and formed a letter. You caught it before it floated to the ground. The loopy handwriting belonged to Seokjin. The first line was an apology, the second line was an apology as well. He promised to visit as soon as he could to explain and that you had every right to be angry at him. He thanked you for letting him know that Yoongi and Jungkook were safe since Yoongi had taken off in the morning before Seokjin had woken up, otherwise, he wouldn’t have let him go off in the rain. Reading his letter, the jagged edges of your anger smoothed but Seokjin would have to explain himself in person.

You picked up the tray and set yourself to tidying up. It was strange, you had lived alone for five years but the house felt emptier than ever before.

Taglist: @nochuwastaken @blancflms @rinkud @seokteoksworld

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agusfree · 1 year ago

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Safe and Sound |Chapter 9|

Pairing: Hybrid!ot7 x f!reader

Chapter warnings: Jungkook has a bit of a breakdown and Y/n is there for him :(… looks like we found Yoongi’s secret..

Summary: You have worked at a hybrid rehab and adoption center for years, enjoying being able to help people others only see as their animal side. You thought you might end up taking in one or two, what you didn’t expect however, was to take in 7.

Genre: fluff, angst, eventual smut, non-idol au, hybrid au, strangers to friends to lovers au

Word count: 1.3k

Member’s hybrid types: Namjoon: Bear, Yoongi: Bobcat, Hoseok: Ferret, Jin: Wolf, Jimin: Red panda, Jungkook: Bunny, Taehyung: Marble fox

A/n: okay like, I know I’ve been posting a bunch, but like, I’m restless and my mind is flowing rn and the ideas won’t stop (I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, I’m happy abt it) sooo yeah..don’t be surprised if I post more soon, or if I don’t. Whichever happens, I’ll let you guys know if I do get another writers block or something tho

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You groan, shifting around on your bed. “Y/n!” A voice yells before you feel a body pounce on top of your own making you groan. You open your eyes, looking down at the shaking man on top of you through your bleary eyes. Your brows furrow, blinking in an attempt to make it go away. The first thing you can make out is long ears, then Jungkook’s tear stained face as he looks up at you for a moment before burying his head in your neck.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, wrapping your arms around Jungkook. “You passed out.” Dr. Martin mumbles, standing beside your bed with Hoseok. You remove an arm from Jungkook, opening it in Hoseok's direction. He immediately claims the opened spot, tucking his head into the other side of your neck. “What happened?” You ask, looking at Dr. Martin to the best of your ability. “The man uh tackled you and I think you hit your head pretty hard.” Dr. Martin mumbles, pursing his lips.

You hear a small growl from Hoseok and a whine from Jungkook as they push themselves closer to you. “Is he okay?” You ask, a frown settling on your face. “I think he’s fine, a doctor came in shortly after you went down and they sedated him..like we didn’t want to happen, but y’know, hybrids are ‘dangerous’.” Dr. Martin mumbles, mimicking air quotes. “Why are you worried about him? He hurt you.” Hoseok grumbles, rubbing his cheek on your shoulder.

You sigh, “Because someone hurt him like your old owner hurt you both.” You say, leaning your head on Hoseok’s, closing your eyes. Hoseok grumbles something you can’t quite decipher, but before you can ask you feel something wet hit your shoulder. “Hobi?” You ask, carding your hands through his hair with furrowed brows. “I was scared.” He mumbles, turning his head so you can hear him. “I’ll leave you guys alone. Call if you need anything.” Dr. Martin says, smiling at you before leaving your room.

Hoseok and Jungkook practically go limp on top of you, both letting out an exhale of relief. “You were out for a few hours.” Hoseok mumbles, pushing himself closer to you. You frown, you were out for that long? “I’m sorry I worried you both.” You say, hugging the two closer to you. You feel a fourth weight added to the bed, lighter than you, Hoseok and Jungkook. You lift your head to see your furry friend on the bed, looking at the three of you curiously. You smile, “C’mere kitty.” You call. The cat practically rushes forward, curling in a ball on your stomach as deep purrs vibrate in his chest.

“Did you feed him?” You ask, stroking the cat's fur as best as you can. Hoseok nods, petting the cat as well. The cat glares at Hoseok, shuffling away from him on your stomach. You stifle a laugh, pursing your lips making Hoseok glare at you, a large pout on his face. “Sorry, sorry.” You mumble, pulling the best straight face you can manage. “Alright you two, I gotta use the bathroom.” You say, patting Jungkook and Hoseoks backs gently before trying to move them.

Jungkook whines while Hoseok huffs, both pushing closer to you. “Do you want me to pee on you?” You ask. You laugh when both boys shoot off of you, pouting at you nonetheless as they stare at you with their arms crossed. “Sorry.” You mumble, your attention directing to the cat on your stomach. “You too, kitty.” The cat's eyes narrow at your words, his short tail doing a small flick. “Alright, gonna have to do this the hard way.” You mumble, reaching down to pick up the cat before plopping him on the bed beside you.

The cat grumbles before jumping off the bed, waltzing out of the room with a huff making you laugh. “I swear he acts just like a person.” You say, taking the blanket off of you before standing up with a groan. “Haha..yeah..” Jungkook says, awkwardly laughing afterwards while avoiding your eyes. You raise an eyebrow, “Is there something you’re not telling me?” You ask. Jungkook’s wide, panicked eyes meet yours (he’s never been good at hiding how he feels), quickly stuttering out an excuse. “N-no! I was j-just agreeing with you.” He says, quickly averting his eyes again.

“Okay. Spill.” You say, resting your hands on your hips. “There’s nothing to spill.” Jungkook mumbles, scratching his wrist, a tell tale sign he’s lying. “Uh-huh sure.” You say, turning to Hoseok. “Are you going to tell me or am I gonna have to do an interrogation with the two of you?” You ask. Hoseok sighs, “Your cat is a hybrid.” He says, nervously playing with his hands. “And you kept that from me, why?” You ask, genuinely confused why they would keep something so simple from you. “He’s scared of something. We could smell it on him.” Hoseok says, eyebrows drawing together.

“You still should have told me, especially if he’s scared.” You say, your own brows furrowing. “We’re sorry.” Jungkook mumbles, voice wavering slightly. “You don’t have to be sorry.” You say, taking a step toward Jungkook, only for him to take one back. “Jungkook?” You call out softly, taking a step back. His head whips up, eyes wide and full of panic as he stares at you. “I’m-I’m-I’m sorry. I d-didn't mean t-too.” He whimpers before he pinches his eyes shut. You look at Hoseok, taking another step away from Jungkook and sitting on the bed.

Hoseok sighs, sitting on the bed before scooching over to you. “He got most of the beatings from our old owner, I still got my fair share but he had it the worst between us.” Hoseok mumbles with a frown, looking back at Jungkook. “He especially didn’t like when we lied, that’s how we got our worst ‘punishments’.” Hoseok mumbles, looking down at his hands.

You frown, getting up from the bed before walking to Jungkook, pulling him into your arms before he can back away again. He jumps, pushing at you for a moment, but just as you’re about to let go, he wraps his good arm around your waist, sobbing into your shoulder. “‘M sorry.” Jungkook whispers into your shoulder, lightly dragging his cheek across it. “You don’t have to apologize, bun. You did nothing wrong.” You whisper, laying your head on his.

Jungkook only sobs harder at your words, pressing himself closer to you (if it’s even possible). You try to gently pull him back, succeeding fairly quickly. You don’t get a chance to look at his face, however, as he quickly shields it with his long, fluffy ears. “Can you look at me?” You call softly, maneuvering around his ears to cup his face. He shakes his head, a small whimper escaping him in the process.

“I don’t know what that man—that vile creature—made you think whatever you do think up in there,” You gently tap his head “But none of that is true. You’re an amazing person, Jungkook. Hybrid or not. I understand why you didn’t tell me about the cat, he’s scared. You were protecting him. From what? I don’t know. I don’t know if you even know. But you were protecting him.” You say, smiling slightly when his ears move from his face a bit, a single doe eye peeking at you. “I don’t care if that creature said lying is bad. If you’re doing it for the right reason, I wouldn’t say it is. And you were doing it for the right reason.” You say, pulling Jungkook back into your arms.

He exhales deeply, going completely limp against you. You reach up to gently card your fingers through his hair, laying your head on his. “Thank you, Y/n.” He mumbles, a sound akin to a purr rumbling in his chest. You only hum, letting your eyes slide shut as you ignore your bladders desperate pleas for you to use the bathroom, deciding to focus on the more important thing right now.

Comforting Jungkook.

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A/n:

Series taglist:

@blancflms @dreamerwasfound @pettyandprettyy @watermelon2319 @yoongistangerine @danielle143 @canarystwin @catlove83 @joonie-tunes @staygirl1986 @singukieee

Permanent taglist:

@viankiss @lizzymizzy-blogg @teddymoon06 @rln-byg

If you are highlighted in bold you could not be tagged! And please lmk if I missed anyone or if you would like to be added <3

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agusfree · 1 year ago

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To Be Loved - 02

I want adventure in the great, wide somewhere. I want it more than I can tell.

⤑ pairing: namjoon x reader (a bit of reader x jungkook) ⤑ genre: hybrid au, romance, hurt/comfort ⤑ rating: 18+ ⤑ word count: 6.4k ⤑ warnings: discussions about physical/domestic abuse, descriptions of reader in a toxic relationship, hybrids are seen as sub-human, kangdae is still an asshole, please be mindful of the warnings!! ⤑ note: wow, i'm truly overwhelmed by all the notes and comments from the 1st chapter! it's always so nerve-wrecking for me to post new projects, and i can't thank you guys enough for sending me feedback. so i've decided to post this chapter a little earlier than i had planned lol. it's heavily about reader and the bunny hybrid rn, but namjoon definitely will have his chance to shine ;)

Chapters 01 | 02 | 03 - Coming Soon

“Where are we going?”

That’s a good question. The obvious answer is out of this small, provincial town. Away from Kangdae and his owner. To the countryside, in a bustling city, or a summer cabin in the woods. Anywhere, really.

“I don’t know yet.”

Your hands tighten around the steering wheel as you keep your gaze on the road. The hybrid is sitting next to you on the passenger seat, wearing some of Kangdae’s clothes, including a black bucket-hat to cover his long ears.

Hours have passed since you and the bunny hybrid left your home and hit the road.

You’ve wrestled with the idea of packing your bags and leaving everything behind before. It’s something you thought about more than you’d like to admit. After violent arguments between you and Kangdae, where you’ve had enough and where he’d leave you to “cool off” and come back whenever he pleases, you’d throw your things in a duffel bag: clothes, toiletries, a hidden wad of cash, food, the first-aid kit, whatever you could get your hands on.

But every time before, you weren’t able to cross that threshold out the door. You weren’t able to do this alone.

Fear has a tight grip on you. Insecurity as well. Kangdae is well off and financially stable. He could get any girl he wants and make her feel special, just as he’s done with you and all the other women he’s cheated on you with. He has nothing to lose if you leave, but you’ll lose everything: your job, your reputation, your family, your dignity.

Kangdae’s family has control of every business in town. It’s hard to find a job that isn’t directly influenced by them. Your reputation would be tarnished as well. You’ll be the girl who ran away from the most sought-after bachelor in town, and people would think you’re insane. Your family would be disappointed, and you know that running to them would mean they’d just try to make you change your mind and go back to Kangdae before you make things worse. And if you’re not able to make it on your own, what then? Could you even come back to this town once you leave?

The hybrid follows you from room to room, nervous as he helps you carry your things into the car. There were several times when you had a moment of reconsideration, second-guessing yourself that maybe you can’t do this after all and that this whole thing is stupid and reckless.

But the moment you catch a glimpse of his hopeful, doe-shaped eyes, your morale returns. You weren’t able to cross the threshold on your own, but this time, with another person depending on you, you did. With the engagement ring and your cell phone left behind, you don’t look back.

Soon, you find yourself here. In a car with a hybrid, and no real direction on where to go yet. Your options are limited, and the hybrid’s even more so.

You’ve stopped at your bank and withdrew as much cash as you’re able to before closing the account. You’ve stopped at a car mechanic to check your tires and do a quick maintenance, as you’re expecting to be on the road for quite some time. You’ve stopped at a 24-hour pharmacy to purchase more bandages and antibacterial sprays and ointments before re-cleaning the hybrid’s wounds in a parking lot. You’ve stopped at a library to do some research on inexpensive hotels and lodges that allow hybrids, and click away from any shelters and advertised sanctuaries that the hybrid doesn’t look comfortable staying in.

It’s been nonstop since you finally walked out the door, trying to drown away your fears and doubts by keeping busy. By mustering your courage and being prepared.

But now, things have quieted down. There aren’t many cars at this time of night. Many people are in bed or are out spending the rest of their evening with friends and their significant other. Streetlights illuminate the dark roads ahead, but your mind wanders as the music quietly plays from the radio.

It feels crazy. You feel insane doing this.

What if Kangdae comes home? How soon would it be until he finds you? How long would it take until your parents notice? Or your neighbors? Or anyone else? Wouldn’t the hybrid’s abusive owner be looking for him too? Wouldn’t this be considered kidnapping? Rescuing? Are you going to be arrested if you’re caught?

Yet, as you glance at the hybrid next to you, you know you can’t let Kangdae or the owner continue to hurt him. You have to take him somewhere safe at least, and then you’ll deal with the consequences later.

“Do you have a family? Friends? A place to go?”

“No…” the hybrid answers, shaking his head. He doesn’t have any of those. Your heart sinks at the realization.

So, you ask him something that he can answer. “Are you hungry?”

The diner is relatively empty when you and the hybrid are seated. There are a couple truck drivers that are grabbing a quick meal and a cup of coffee before they continue on with their deliveries. A man in a janitorial uniform seems to have just gotten off his late shift and is tiredly eating a sandwich. And a small group of teenagers are enjoying a very late dinner together after a concert or party before they head home.

The hybrid makes sure that his ears are covered with the hat, tugging on the rim to keep it down as he glances at the warning sign on the window that disallows hybrids from entering the establishment. Though, the night staff seems too tired to really care or notice anyway.

“Go ahead and order whatever you want, okay?” you assure him, noting how he seems fixed on the page that lists their salads.

A waitress comes to take your orders and brings you hot coffee and the hybrid a glass of milk. While the two of you wait for your food, you’re so lost in thought, you haven’t noticed the hybrid eyeing you until he finally speaks up. “You’re so nice.”

“I’m just trying to do the right thing,” you reply with a tiny shrug, grabbing the little cups of coffee creamer and packets of sugar.

“Not a lot of humans would do what you’re doing for me,” he says quietly.

Again, you feel your heart sink a little.

Hybrids have been around for thousands of years, yet they’ve always been treated as sub-human. For centuries, humans would overtake their natural habitats, hunt and capture them for sport or to make money, separate them from their packs, enslave them or force them into violence and entertainment. Co-existing with them is still a fairly new and controversial concept as the politics dictating hybrid rights and laws are a heated topic every year.

How much humanity or animal instincts hybrids have or not never really mattered to you. They’re still intelligent, some even more so than humans are. They look human other than some distinct animal features they can’t hide. Yet, they’re treated like vicious monsters, even if humans are the worst.

“More people should,” you simply say as you mix your coffee with cream and sugar.

Soon enough, the waitress sets a big bowl of salad in front of the hybrid and a plate of pancakes and strawberries for you. Just like before, the hybrid scarfs down his food quickly, barely letting himself savor the taste. As if he’s worried that someone would snatch the bowl away from him if he doesn’t eat it fast enough.

“Hey, slow down a little,” you warn him, and he immediately puts down the salad bowl. His eyes flash with guilt and fear, afraid that he made you upset. You offer him a small, friendly smile. “I just don’t want you to choke. Here, I’ll give you some of mine too. This diner claims to be famous for their hot cakes.”

The hybrid watches as you cut up a generous portion and place it on his plate. He still seems a bit confused and hesitant with your cations, but nibbles on the red fruit first.

“You’re nice,” he repeats, more as a reminder to himself than anything.

“Thank you.”

“Why are you with that mean human?”

Your smile fades a little. “You mean Kangdae?”

He nods his head, chewing on his bottom lip, as if he’s still a little nervous about making you angry.

You sigh. “That’s another good question.”

To be honest, it’s something you wonder about all the time. Other than your beauty, you don’t know what else he sees in you. Neither of you really have anything in common. His lifestyle indulges in women, parties, and whatever puts him in the spotlight. Yours is quieter, calmer, and ideally, surrounded by arts and books.

There have been times when it was actually nice to be with him. Days where he’s in a good mood and makes you feel like you’re the one. When his flattery actually charms you and he remembers things like your birthday or an anniversary. Dating him has also opened doors that you wouldn’t have been able to walk through on your own: your job under his parent’s company, a nice apartment in town, trips to resorts and beautiful places, financial stability among other things.

A lot of people say you’re lucky to have him. And at some point, you started to believe that Kangdae is it. That you can’t do any better than him.

Kangdae loved you, and you thought, maybe, you could love him in return.

Even if it isn’t what you envisioned love to be at all.

Things started to become worse after you two moved in together. His gigs as a rapper, an influencer, or a vlogger, weren’t making much income, and he refused to work under his parents, so he never contributed to the bills. He argued with you all the time: about money, about bills, about some random guy being too friendly with you when he’s taking your coffee order, about you spending too much time away from home when your company throws a mandatory get-together, about you not getting dinner hot and ready for him the second he comes home, about you always being too tired or not in the mood for sex. The list goes on.

Yet, somehow, he convinced you to stay.

Out of convenience. Out of the inevitable threat of financial instability. Out of knowing you’d be disappointing everyone who ever told you hybrids you’re lucky to be with him. Out of insecurity that you’d honestly not find anyone else who’d love you.

But the hybrid before you is your last straw.

He’s chewing on the lettuce. The motion of his mouth reminds you very much of actual bunnies as he continues to stare at you with big, round eyes, waiting for you to continue.

“It doesn’t matter why I was with him,” you decide, stabbing your fork into your pancake. “What matters is that I’m never going back to him again.”

“Did you love him?”

You frown at your plate. Other than what you gave to the hybrid, you haven’t taken a bite. “I thought I did. But now, I’m not sure. Love always seems so different in books and movies. It looks nicer. Warmer. Sweeter than anything.”

“I think love can be like that in real life too,” the hybrid tells you, seeming a bit shy. “But you won’t find it with that guy. You’re too nice to be with someone like him.”

You smile a little at that. Perhaps it’s because he’s part bunny, but you feel incredibly endeared by him. “You know, I don’t think I ever got your name.”

“I’m good with any name,” he replies with a tiny shrug. “That guy… the owner… he didn’t give me a name.”

“Is there anything you want me to call you?”

The hybrid rolls his eyes to the ceiling and scratches his cheek in thought. “Jungkook. That’s what I used to be called.”

“Jungkook?”

He nods his head. A small smile forms on his lips. “It’s nice when you say it.”

You laugh a little. “Thank you.”

“No, no. I should be thanking you,” he insists, looking at you quite seriously. “I’ll figure out a way to repay you. I promise.”

“You already did.”

He blinks. “I did? When?”

“Earlier, when you asked me to help you,” you tell him with a wry smile. “I couldn’t save myself, but I had to save you. From your owner, from Kangdae, from all the other mean people. So, thank you for giving me the courage to get us both out of that situation.”

For the next couple of days, you and Jungkook drive as far as you can without much of a destination in mind.

At first, the two of you stopped at different shelters and adoption centers, but there was always some excuse that made you pull out of the parking lot before you could even make it to the building. The place looked too shabby with faded paint and deteriorating plaster, or the place looked too sterile and heartless to be called a home. Jungkook didn’t trust that they’d actually take care of him, or you’re afraid his owner would find him too easily at that location.

Eventually, you stopped bothering and skipped potential centers altogether. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind, though. He seems to rather be with you than to be dropped off at a mysterious and scary place, and part of you doesn’t even mind.

He’s good company and an easy person to talk to during the long hours on the road. Even when the radio is off, he’d sing to you or talk for hours straight.

Sometimes, he talks to you about what it’s like to be a hybrid.

“So, you can actually turn into an animal?” you exclaim, shocked by the news. You assume that hybrids stay stuck as a mix between human and animal forever. When Jungkook doesn’t answer you, you glance over at the passenger seat and see a black bunny with the same, doe-shaped eyes staring up at you. “Oh my god, you can!”

He transforms back in a blink of an eye, grabbing the steering wheel when you begin to swerve off the road as he shouts, “Be careful!”

Sometimes, you talk about what it’s like to be human.

“You’re actually a little weak, aren’t you?” Jungkook teases, helping you carry a pack of water bottles among other snacks and road trip essentials to the trunk. “Are all humans like this, or is it just you?”

“I can return the ice cream you picked out, you know,” you threaten as he loads up the trunk. “And the banana milk.”

“No, no, don’t do that,” he says with a chuckle and a shake of his head. It’s the first time you’ve heard him laugh.

Every now and then, you’d stop by at gas stations, rest stops, convenience stores, motels, and fast-food joints. It’s tolling on your body to drive for hours at a time, but the hybrid tries to keep you entertained. And you’re thankful for his company.

“I didn’t think you’d be into this type of music,” Jungkook admits as he fiddles around with the radio. The passenger side where he’s at is wide open as you hand him a drink from the vending machine.

“Why? You don’t like hip hop?” you ask, opening a bottle of water and glugging it down. The two of you are parked at a rest stop so you could stretch your legs and use the public restroom.

“I like all kinds of music,” he tells you, his thin lips stretching to a shy smile that exposes his bunny teeth. He uncaps his own bottle and asks, “Who’s your favorite artist?”

You almost choke at the question. Honestly, you haven’t really thought about it much, but there is one person that comes to mind. “I don’t think you’d hear him on the radio.”

“Oh yeah? What’s his name?”

“Rap Monster.”

While traveling on the road is daring, fun, full of deep talks, laughter, and singing, it’s also a little scary. In the back of your mind, there’s always that fear that you’ll get caught. That the police would take you back to Kangdae, or that Jungkook’s owner would find you and force him back into more brutal fights and beatings. That someone suspicious would approach you when you’re filling up for gas in the middle of the night, or that you’d end up in an unsafe area.

“Don’t be scared,” Jungkook whispers to you, placing a hand on the small of your back. He eyes the group of men loitering in front of the motel wearily. “If they try to mess with you, I’ll protect you. I’m strong.”

“Thanks, Jungkook,” you murmur back, feeling a bit safer. Taking a deep breath, you briskly walk across the parking lot with the hybrid right behind you. Your gaze is kept firmly on the building, even as the sleazy men in front of it try to whistle and call for your attention. You hear them laughing at how scared you must look.

Had it been Kangdae instead of Jungkook, he’d either start a fight with those men and put the blame on you – claiming that you wanted it, that the way you’re dressed was asking for unwanted attention, that you’re trying to make him jealous by making eye contact with them. If he really felt like being an asshole, he’d shove you toward them until you’re crying and clinging onto him, and Kangdae would laugh and simply say you should feel flattered by the attention.

By the time you check in, Jungkook is already taking all your belongings from the car into the room so you don’t have to go back out there. He doesn’t question you when he finds you sitting on the bed and crying. And you don’t ask him about the redness on his knuckles when you check on his wounds later that night.

At the motel, Jungkook lets you take the bed as he plops down on the couch. It can’t be that comfortable, but he always insists on sleeping there, claiming it’s better than the cage he usually sleeps in. Your heart drops every time he mentions it.

Without a phone, it’s hard to keep researching hybrid centers, checking on the reviews, and looking up their locations. But there are pamphlets of maps, restaurant menus, and local business fliers on the nightstand.

“This place claims to be a humane shelter for hybrids,” you read out loud, looking at the picturesque photos of a variety of hybrids with humans: dog-hybrids of mixed breeds, domestic cat-hybrids with pointy ears and fluffy tails, birds with talons on their feet, and bunnies like Jungkook with long ears and a cute tail. “No kill, free-range, very thorough adoption process to ensure your hybrid finds a new forever home.”

“They’re lies,” Jungkook bitterly states without even looking at it. “All of them are.”

You toss the flier in the nearby wastebasket and sigh. “We need to at least look at some of these places. We can’t keep driving around like this forever.”

Jungkook peeks over at you. Then, in a quieter voice, he asks, “Why not?”

“I want to find you a proper home. With a home gym where you can workout anytime you want. And a nice kitchen with a full fridge where you can eat actual meals instead of living off ramen packets and potato chips. And maybe even a karaoke machine with colorful mood lights so you can sing your heart out,” you explain, imagining he’d have so much fun and be well-taken care of. “I want you to feel comfortable and happy instead of being stuck in my car all the time, and just wandering around aimlessly until our money runs out.”

You see the pout jutting out of his lip. “What if I just want to stay with you?”

“I’m not exactly living in the lap of luxury right now,” you tell him with a sad smile. It’ll be hard to let him go, but you know it’s for the best. Even if he doesn’t agree.

“Then what about you?”

“I’m… still figuring it out,” you reply, sighing again. Finding a home for Jungkook is a priority, but that doesn’t mean you haven’t been thinking about your next step. “I have a sister who might be able to take us in for now. I haven’t talked to her for years. She might not even remember me or want to help. But I can’t think of anyone else. She still lives far from here, but if we cut through the forest instead of taking the main roads, we’ll get to her much sooner.”

His silence makes you wonder if he’s thinking the same thing: this is a bad idea.

“It’s going to rain,” he reminds you with a frown. You don’t need animal instincts to know that. The looming, grey clouds in the sky tells you that a storm is near.

Still, you turn on the TV to look at the weather forecast. “I’ll drive slow.”

“It’ll still be dangerous.”

Breaking news. Missing person report. If you have seen this woman, please contact your local authorities immediately. Last seen wearing—

You stare at a photo of yourself on the television. Your heart picks up as Jungkook’s eyes widen. If you thought the cops were after you before, they surely are now.

They’ll find you if you take the main road to your sister’s place.

“We don’t have much of a choice.”

A thick tension hangs in the air between you and Jungkook. It’s something that you haven’t felt since the night the two of you spontaneously decided to run away from your abusers. Every passing car has you on edge, making you wonder how long the two of you can pull this off. If you could even make it to your sister’s place.

Would someone recognize your license plate? Are the cops already on your trail? Would Kangdae and Jungkook’s owner be out there looking for the two of you? What if they catch you? What would you do then?

The windshield wipers swipe back and forth against the heavy rain, but it doesn’t do much good. It’s still so hard to see as your car pulls up to the road leading into the dense forest.

“Just drive slow,” Jungkook reminds you, his voice gentle.

You nod your head. Then, carefully, you step on the gas.

Tall trees cover both sides of the narrow road. Under much nicer weather and better circumstances, perhaps it would be a relaxing, scenic drive to go through. But as it is, it’s terrifying. And dark. You can barely see past what your headlights illuminate.

But at least no one is following you two. For now, anyway.

After a while, everything starts to look the same. It makes you wonder if you’re just driving around in circles. In the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook yawning and trying hard to stay awake with you. But the constant rainfall and the occasional rumbles of thunder seems to lull him to sleep.

“If you’re tired, you could take a nap,” you tell him. It’ll still be a little while until you get to your sister’s place anyway.

“No, no, I should stay up with you,” he mumbles, though his eyes are already closed. His head starts to droop as he nods off, but then, Jungkook suddenly snaps awake. His whole body stiffens as his hand shoots up to grab you.

“Ow! Jungkook, what–?”

Then, you hear it.

A deep, animalistic roar.

Your heart hammers in your chest as your car halts to a stop. It sounds so close.

“Don’t stop. Keep driving,” Jungkook urges.

“Right,” you mutter, stepping on the gas again. You’re not even sure what kind of animal it is, but you can’t see anything but shrouds of darkness among the trees. Whatever it is, though, has Jungkook spooked.

“Faster,” he insists. His hand around your arm tightens a little. You push the gas pedal a little more. “Faster!”

Somehow, the roar sounds closer.

The two of you are speeding through the dirt path as safely as you can. Rain continues to fall without letting up. The heavy patter of raindrops hits hard against the rapid swipes of your windshield wipers. You can’t even see what’s even chasing you, but it has Jungkook terrified.

“What do you think it is?” you try to ask him, eyes flickering toward him worriedly.

“I don’t know, but— WATCH OUT!”

A deer is in the middle of the dirt road. Caught in the headlights, it stands frozen.

It feels like everything happens in slow motion.

You and Jungkook are screaming as your hands turn the wheel, swerving out of the way before you hit the poor animal.

Your foot is on the brakes, but the roads are slippery. You’re not able to stop.

Your car slams against a tree. Jungkook’s arm protectively shields you as the airbags trigger upon impact.

Everything feels slowed down, but it happens in an instant.

“Don’t hurt her.”

You’re not sure when, but you must have passed out.

With effort, you try to open your eyes. Your vision is blurry, but you can see that you’ve been pulled out of your car. The front is completely wrecked. Your car door is open and the airbags on both sides are deflated.

It’s still raining. You can feel yourself getting soaked, but you’re pressed against something solid and warm. How did you get here? Is that deer okay?

Where’s Jungkook?

“You don’t need her. You don’t need any of them.”

You don’t recognize that voice. It’s deep and has a bit of a drawl. But you can practically feel the hatred in their voice as you start to drift back into unconsciousness.

“No, she’s different. Please. Please don’t hurt her,” you hear Jungkook begging. His voice wavers as he holds you tighter. “She’s my human.”

“Guys, that’s enough.” A different voice cuts in. This one, somehow, sounds familiar. Deeper than the previous speaker, but warm and smooth. Whoever this voice belongs to seems to recognize one of you too. “Is that— Who are you?”

When you wake up again, you can still hear the rain. It’s soothing this time. The heavy pellets hit the large window, obscuring the view with a watery, grey blur. Your eyes are drawn to the curtains, velvet in color and tied with a knotted rope. There’s a bench in front of the window, stacked with cushions, that looks cozy. You could easily imagine yourself curled up with a book, a blanket, and a bunch of pillows in that spot.

You don’t remember seeing a little nook like that at the motel before.

Actually, you don’t remember any of the motels having one at all.

Where are you?

Panic starts to seep in when you don’t recognize the room you’re in. It looks old. Stuck in a forgotten time with antique furniture and outdated flooring and wallpaper. As you move beneath the duvet, you realize that your clothes have been removed and you’re now wearing one of Kangdae’s shirts that you let Jungkook borrow.

Did he do this? Where is Jungkook anyway?

It looks like you’re alone in this room. But beyond the bedroom door, you’re not sure what’s waiting for you out there.

Across the room, you’re surprised to see your belongings on a chair. Whoever Jungkook was talking to, they must have brought you and your stuff here. You waste no time to get out of Kangdae’s clothes and dress into your own, your feet creaking loudly against the floorboards as you make your way to your duffel bag.

Other than your hybrid friend, nothing else seems to be missing. Everything you packed, including what money you have left, is still there.

You glance over at the door again. One thing is for sure. Jungkook is on the other side somewhere. You can’t just wait around here forever.

The floorboards continue to creak beneath your feet as you make your way to the door. Once you pull it open, the hinges squealing as you do, you nearly scream.

A tall man with dark, wavy hair and small, round ears is just at the other side. His face is strikingly handsome, and his gaze is penetrating as he rests his arm against the doorway and leans so close to you, you can see the tiny beauty marks beneath his eye, on the tip of his nose, his cheek, and his bottom lip.

“Little human. Aren’t you being too noisy?”

“I’m sorry!” you quickly reply, thoroughly mortified. It must have been the floorboards, or maybe even when you were rummaging through your duffel bag for clothes. You didn’t think you were being too loud, but…

“Taehyung, don’t scare our guest away,” another voice says from the hallway.

When you look at the newcomer’s voice, your eyes widen in shock. For a moment, you think you’re looking at an angel. His face looks soft and kind, with full lips and a defined jaw. Some of his dark bangs cover his sharp eyes. But where one of his arms is human, lean and toned with muscle, his other arm is a long, feathered black wing that makes him somehow look more ethereal.

“I’m not scaring her, Jimin,” the one named Taehyung whines, straightening up. It’s when he’s at his full length when you realize just how tall this man is. And how sharp his claws are. He peers down at you and confirms, “Right, little human?”

“Um. Yes?”

The one named Jimin moves so gracefully as he approaches you two. There’s a friendly smile on his angelic face. “Don’t mind him. He usually hibernates around this time, so he’s a little cranky. Bear hybrids tend to sleep more than the rest of us.”

Taehyung snorts and scratches his belly. Even if he doesn’t admit it, Jimin must be right. There’s a hint of tiredness in his stoic face.

“It’s all right,” Taehyung mumbles, now scratching his head.

“You must be hungry,” Jimin guesses, and at the very mention of food, your stomach growls in agreement. Heat colors your cheeks, but Jimin continues to smile and merely nods to where he came from. “Follow me, then. I’ll tell Seokjin and Yoongi to make something for you.”

Again, it looks like he’s floating with every step he takes. It’s obvious that he’s a bird hybrid, but his graceful movements remind you of a swan. A black swan.

Behind you, much to your surprise, Taehyung follows. Earlier, he seemed so adamant about going back to sleep. There’s still a grumpy, tired look on his face – brown eyes glazed over with drowsiness and his lips pouting slightly – yet, he still trails behind both you and Jimin.

The swan hybrid notices and smirks a little. “He’s curious about you.”

You can’t really imagine why. Or if that’s even a good thing.

Jimin leads you both to a foyer. There are more hybrids sitting around the fireplace. It’s warm, orange glow casts lights upon each of their animalistic features.

From the lounge chair is a man with pale skin and leopard-printed ears and a long tail. Along one side of his neck, shoulder, and arm are spots that look like tattoos. His gaze feels intimidating the moment he locks eyes with you, and his long tail swishes back and forth slowly.

On the other chair, another man turns to look at you as well. Like Taehyung, his face is strikingly handsome. Pointed ears and a long tail indicate that he’s a wolf, but bigger. You’re not sure if it’s the reflection of the fire, but his sharp eyes look golden and are practically glowing.

The last one, sitting comfortably with the predator hybrids, is an elaphocentuar – half-human, half-deer. The upper-part of his body is of a human man with strong antlers on his head, but the bottom-half is of a spotted deer. The reddish-brown of his fur matches the hair on his head.

A few days ago, you’ve rarely seen a hybrid in person. Now, you’re in a room full of them.

“You’re awake!” a familiar voice exclaims before a solid mass just pulls you into a tight hug. Relief washes over you when you recognize who it is.

“Jungkook! Are you okay? Did you get hurt?” you immediately ask, your voice a little muffled from his hold. You pull away enough to get a good look at him. There are some fresh bruises from the accident, but no broken bones or concerning wounds from what you can tell.

“I’m fine. I was more worried about you,” he admits as he begins to ramble. “I was a little disoriented, but I managed to get out of the car. I pulled you out of the driver’s seat too. The car is completely wrecked! I don’t know if you’ll be able to drive it anymore. But that deer we almost hit was a hybrid!”

You glance over at the deer hybrid. He moves a little closer to the leopard-hybrid, body entirely stiff since you stepped into the room, and staring at you like he’s still caught in the headlights. You feel awful and you don’t blame him at all for being scared of you.

“I’m so sorry. I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

The deer-hybrid merely blinks, as if he isn’t sure you’re talking to him. Then, meekly, he replies, “I’m not hurt.”

“Good. I’m glad you’re not,” you tell him sincerely.

“Me too,” Jungkook agrees, offering a small smile at the deer-hybrid as well. “They found us right after the accident. You were so cold and wet, I was worried you wouldn’t wake up. They said I had to get you out of your wet clothes or you’d get sick, but I promise I didn’t do anything weird! And then, I just waited for you to wake up on your own. You’ve been asleep for a while, and I’m glad you’re okay.”

“We recognized Jungkook as one of us, so we had to check on him,” the leopard-hybrid explains, his gaze not once leaving you. You vaguely recognize his voice as the one Jungkook was arguing with. “He insisted that we had to help you too.”

“She’s different from the other humans!” Jungkook defends. His arms are still around you rather protectively. “She’s so nice. She’s been helping me and taking care of me. I couldn’t just leave her behind.”

“We don’t normally allow humans anywhere near this place,” the handsome wolf adds on. It’s obvious why. Not only are they hybrids, but they’re exotic. Black swan, clouded leopard, dire wolf. Even the bear and deer hybrids are uncommon compared to the rabbits, dogs, cats, rodents, and bird hybrids. “But the young master of this manor made an exception for you.”

“The master?”

“That would be me.”

The final resident of this house of hybrids steps in. He’s tall and muscular with perfect body proportions. He has short, brown hair and tanned skin. But the fullness of his lips, the deep dimples in his cheeks, and the dark sunglasses over his eyes are things you instantly recognize.

You haven't seen him since that night all those years ago.

“Rap Monster?”

His lips stretch into a smile. “I haven’t been called that in a long time.”

Jungkook looks between you and the master of the house, eyes wide with awe and surprise. “That’s Rap Monster? Your favorite artist?”

Rap Monster arches an eyebrow. “Favorite artist?”

You feel your cheeks heat with embarrassment. “Yeah, you, uh. You rap good.”

The leopard snorts, and you feel the curious gazes of the hybrids around you. You’re ready to crawl back into the room you woke up in and hide forever until you hear Rap Monster’s laughter.

Unlike the other hybrids, Rap Monster doesn’t have any animal parts to his body. No round ears or fluffy tails, no antlers or hooves, no feathered wings or webbed feet.

He looks completely human.

Except for one thing.

“I’ve gotten a lot better at rapping over the years. I’ll have to show you sometime,” he says, taking off his sunglasses. The move is unexpected to the hybrids living with him as he reveals to you his serpent eyes. The irises are a beautiful blend of indigo, deeper and more purple on the outer edges and bluer and lighter in the inner parts – unlike anything humans could naturally have. Warm brown is around the dark pupils that are vertically slitted, and they’re even more beautiful than you remember.

You could never forget eyes like his. They’re mesmerizing.

“That would be really nice,” you tell him, forcing yourself to look away from them. “But I don’t want to be a bother. I really appreciate the help and I can’t thank you enough for bringing us in, but I’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

He arches an eyebrow at you again. It makes your stomach flip a little, and not in an entirely bad way. “How? The storm is still going and your car is damaged.”

Your heart sinks a little. “I don’t know. I’ll think of something.”

Truth be told, you have no idea what to do now. Your car was your only means of transportation, and it’s undrivable. It’s too dangerous for you to travel around in the forest by foot, especially if you don’t know how far you are from the main roads. And even then, you’re reported as a missing person. Kangdae and the others are trying to find you.

“Don’t be silly. Just stay with us,” Rap Monster kindly offers. “I wouldn’t have allowed you in if I thought you’d be a danger to my pack.”

You glance at the other hybrids in the room. They’re looking at you with uncertainty, and perhaps, a bit of annoyance. They’ve told you themselves that they’re weary of humans, and given the history between your species and theirs, you can’t exactly blame them for that. “I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“You won’t,” he assures you gently. In those two words alone, the doubt and hesitation start to leave your mind. “Stay as long as you like.”

It feels crazy and stupid, but at this point, trying to leave this shelter in the middle of a storm feels crazier and stupider.

“Okay,” you decide, peering up at his beautiful eyes again. “Until the storm passes.”

“Until the storm passes,” he agrees, as the clash of thunder and lightning seem even louder than before.

Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reviews are greatly appreciated!

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agusfree · 1 year ago

Text

The King's Advisor // Ch. 1

Pairings: King!Yoongi x Advisor!reader

Summary: The king's advisor is the most crucial position in the kingdom, the king trusts her judgment and always listens to her opinions and advice. They are a formidable pair but behind closed doors, the king and his advisor bicker and throw back-handed insults at each other more often than not. The feelings of dislike are very much mutual. She is a champion at testing the King’s patience because she knows she is too valuable to his rule to face repercussions. So it’s bickering and sarcasm dripping from their lips–

Until war breaks out.

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 5.6k+

Warnings: war, injuries

“Well, that was stupid,” you said, leaning back on the chair and crossing your legs.

Yoongi, who had just closed the wooden doors of the council room, turned to look at you with raised eyebrows. The meeting of the King’s Council had just ended and it was just the two of you left inside.

“I beg your pardon?”

You huffed. “That boy isn’t ready to be a captain, he isn’t ready to be a lieutenant even. He doesn’t have the barest idea of how to lead, he can barely fight himself. The fact that his father used to be captain doesn't mean anything.”

“His family is one of the most influential in the kingdom, I couldn’t deny him the position,” Yoongi said. “I don’t want any disputes with them and there would have been a lot if I didn't promote him to his father’s position.”

You leaned your elbows on the long table. “You could have given him a smaller team, told him you would promote him to a larger one when he was ready. Would you trust him to lead a hundred men into a battle? Or defend a city? Because I wouldn’t.”

Yoongi stood opposite you. His long blond hair was pulled up into a neat topknot with a gold and black headband securing it in place. “His family wouldn’t be happy with that. They would question whether I trust them and whether they have done enough for the kingdom.”

“I, for one, don’t trust them,” you said. “They have been salivating after the throne for years, looking for higher and higher ranks in the military and positions in your council. If anyone ever tries to overthrow you, it will be them.”

Yoongi put his hands on the table, bending forward. “Don’t you think I know that? That’s why they don’t have a seat on my council and why you are here instead of their eldest son.”

“If their eldest son were in my place, you would already be dead,” you said getting up.

“Watch your tongue.” Yoongi gritted his teeth, a fire burning in his eyes. The day had been hard on him, he had been in meetings since the morning and he had several hours of sword fighting practice as well. It was easier to rile him up when he was tired and you were the only one who wouldn’t pay for it.

You got up and sauntered up to him. “And if I don’t? You know as well as I do that he won’t be a good captain. He isn’t ready for it and he might never be ready for it. His team will be a liability.”

“I know what I’m doing. An incompetent captain is better than a family with connections like a spiderweb planting words against me.”

“If I heard word of that, I would cut off their webs with silver scissors. They aren’t the only ones with connections,” you said. “Things are tense on our northern borders, we shouldn’t be treating military positions lightly.”

Yoongi narrowed his eyes, up close you could see the reflection of the candles in them. “The-”

A knock on the door interrupted him and you both turned to look. The door opened without any announcements or permission from the King. Namjoon walked inside, his short brown hair combed back, splashes of ink on his white sleeves, and a few papers in his hands. Namjoon was the only person other than you who could barge into the council room like this and face no repercussions.

He took one look at the two of you and closed the door behind him.

“What are you arguing about this time?" he asked. You rolled your eyes and Yoongi scoffed. "Forget it, I don't need to know. We have to go over these papers so get comfortable."

Wordlessly, Yoongi sat down on the chair at the head of the table and the two of you took the ones next to him. Namjoon had missed the meeting because of these papers so they had to be important.

You and Namjoon were the King's most trusted members of the Council. The three of you would often gather late at night or early in the morning to discuss matters of the kingdom and make the difficult decisions.

Namjoon was the son of one of the best warriors the kingdom had ever seen and it had been a surprise when Namjoon hadn't followed in his father's footsteps, choosing books and ink over sword and armor. He had soon become known for his smarts and his eloquent speech—he was the one who went over the King's speeches, putting into words what Yoongi couldn't—and had been easily granted a place in the King's Council. His friendship with the King had a lot of people doubting the decision but soon he proved that he belonged there as much as anyone else. More really.

Unlike Namjoon, you and Yoongi hadn't been friends at any point in your life that you could remember. Maybe when you had been too young to read or write and you were hiding behind your mother's skirts, but not since then. Your father had been the late King's advisor and as his only child, you had been prepared to take his place since you could pick up a pen. He and your mother didn't have any other children and the fact that you were a girl didn't deter them, none of the past King's advisors had been female but your father was determined you would be the first one.

You had spent days and nights over books guided by your father and the best teachers in the kingdom, the same ones teaching the future king. You would see each other occasionally but didn't exchange more than a few words. During your teenage years, your fathers deemed it wise for the two of you to share a few of your lessons, you needed to build trust between you if you were to work together in the future. Instead of friendship, a rivalry brewed. You didn't remember how it started but you couldn't forget how it continued. Exchanging jabs about who was the best at which lessons and who did better at tests. Glaring and provoking each other.

When his father passed on and Yoongi ascended to the throne, it was his time to choose his personal advisor. You had been training for the position all of your life but you were still surprised when he asked you, bearing the gift of a gold bracelet engraved with flowers and embellished with precious stones. The King had to base his decisions on many factors but the most important was trust. Trust to work towards a bright future for the kingdom. Trust to support him through everything.

You didn't ask him why he chose you, you didn't voice any of your questions about trust. For years, you worked together and it was almost like nothing had changed from your teen days.

Half of the candles had gone out by the time you had gone over all of the papers. Your eyes hurt and a headache was brewing behind your temples. Your usual late nights ended earlier than this.

Namjoon gathered the papers with clumsy movements. Yoongi had to catch one before it flew away after Namjoon shoved it off the table.

"I think I may fall asleep if I stay any longer," Namjoon said when all the papers were safely in his arms. You could relate to that. "I would recommend going to sleep now. Have a good night."

You echoed his words and he left. The door closing was the only sound in the dimly lit council room.

You rubbed your eyes and looked at the King. His hair was coming undone and it glinted like threads of gold in the candlelight. His sharp eyes were softer, the way they got at night when his walls weren't as high as the castle's.

"I will be going then," you said, getting up and smoothing down your dress. There was no reason to do it, no one other than the guards would see you at this time. It was more out of force of habit than anything else.

"Wait for a moment," Yoongi said. You stopped before you could move to the door. "The Lee boy will be trained under Hoseok. He will be answering to him and if anything goes wrong I trust Hoseok to make it right. I wouldn't jeopardize the safety of the kingdom."

"It still doesn't sit right with me," you said. You knew that Yoongi had the best interests of the kingdom in mind but that didn't mean you always agreed. More often than not, you didn't. "But that's enough for tonight. It's late and frankly, I'm too exhausted to debate about the Lees. We can talk more about this tomorrow."

Yoongi opened his mouth and closed it again. "Don't forget a lamp. Unless you want to walk in the dark."

"Of course," you muttered, annoyed that Yoongi had to remind you. The torches in the hallways would have gone out a long time ago. "I would have remembered to take one."

"I don't doubt it," Yoongi said, smirking. Ignoring him, you picked up an oil lamp from the top of a large chest and tilted it close to one of the lit candles to share the flame. "Goodnight then."

"Goodnight, my king."

You saw his eyebrows twitch before leaving the room. He wasn't fond of his friends using his title to address him. You wouldn't exactly put yourself in that category but you didn't use his title when it was the two of you, you didn't use it in the council either. You would throw it out there occasionally just to see his reaction.

The guards were standing at attention on either side of the door, their hands on their long swords. They stared ahead as you walked down the empty corridor.

A few days later, you strolled into the private training grounds. It was a wide space surrounded by trees, right next to the gardens accessible only to the royal family. You were one of the few exceptions.

The continuous sound of metal clashing on metal rang in the otherwise silent place. The swords glinted and glimmered, reflecting the light of the midday sun. Yoongi and Hoseok were sparring, their movements so quick they were but a blur.

Yoongi's hair was pulled up in a tight knot and sweat was running down his face and his sculpted chest. His shirt was thrown aside, too much of a nuisance after what looked like several hours of practice. You had to swallow to ease the dryness in your throat.

You watched them—transfixed by their deadly dance—until the King's eyes locked with yours. Others would have cowered at the power in his gaze but you held it steadily like you had done all your life. One second of distraction and Hoseok's sword touched his pale neck, a whisper away from drawing blood.

"And I win," Hoseok said. He turned around, his eyes falling on you, and he smiled as if he understood a joke. "I see. I guess I owe this one to you."

You grinned and walked closer to them. "I'm not sure about that. I think you would have won either way."

"You should join us more often then," Hoseok said.

It was a view you both dreaded and craved to get used to. You didn't make a habit of visiting the training grounds, the King's private ones, or the much larger common ones. The art of battle wasn't one you had delved into. Your father had taught you the basics of protecting yourself but your interest had stopped there. And although watching shirtless men training, wielding swords and bows, and sweating was appealing in theory, you found that the reality wasn't as satisfying.

That's what you reminded yourself and the heat swirling in your stomach.

"How much longer will you be in our company?" you asked Hoseok.

The situation in the North wasn't getting better. Soldiers from the neighboring kingdom had been breaching the borders for months, engaging in small-scale conflicts with your forces stationed there. This was clear as day provocation but you didn't want to go into war.

Hoseok would go along with his team to survey the state of affairs and send a report back.

"The day after tomorrow," he said, sheathing his sword. "It isn't a short trip and it would be for the best to arrive as soon as it is possible." He looked at you and Yoongi, who had turned away. "I will be leaving then. Go easy on him. He's tired," he told you. Yoongi shook his head in disbelief. "I hope we have a chance to catch up before I leave."

"I can always find some time for you," you said.

Hoseok's smile widened before bidding you goodbye and walking away, leaving you and Yoongi alone.

Yoongi gulped down the contents of his leather waterskin, his Adam's apple bobbing, shiny with sweat. "What are you doing here?"

"Am I not allowed?"

"That is not what I said." He put away his sword in its jeweled case and left it on a stone bench. "If you are here that means you were looking for me for something."

You didn't deny it, although it wasn't the complete truth either. There were plenty of matters pending to be discussed and there were about ten things you weren't seeing eye-to-eye and you had to reach an agreement on. Nothing new. But the reason you were there was none of those things.

You had gone on a walk to clear your head after a morning of socializing with some of the most important people in the kingdom and your feet had carried you to the royal gardens before you realized where you were going. Finding Yoongi and Hoseok wasn't your intention. But you weren't about to say that.

Yoongi crossed his arms and looked at you, awaiting an answer. Your eyes strayed to his bare arms and chest and you scolded yourself and pulled them back up in what you hoped was a subtle manner.

"Are you going to stay like this?" you asked.

Yoongi gazed down at himself and what could have been a smirk played at the edges of his lips. "Why? Is it bothering you? Have you not seen a man's body before?"

"Are you a child?" He knew very well the answer to that question. Hell, it wasn't the first time you were seeing him half-naked. That was one of the perks—or cons, depending on your viewpoint—of your job. "For a king, you forget about decency an awful lot."

"When have you cared about decency?"

He picked up his white shirt that had been carelessly thrown on the bench and wiped the sweat off his face and neck with it. You had to look away.

"Where have you been all day? You weren't in your office and you didn't attend tea."

"Were you disappointed?"

"On the contrary," you said sharply. "I was only wondering if you were alive."

He extended his arms to the sides. "As you can see I am very much alive. Sorry to disappoint. I was here."

"All morning?" you asked, not convinced.

The royal gardens weren't a place Yoongi visited often. You were more likely to find Namjoon here observing nature with a book in one hand. Yoongi hadn't displayed any fondness for the place other than the privacy it could offer but his rooms could offer the same privacy and he preferred them.

"I'm the King, can I not take a morning to myself?"

"It's because you're the King that you can't," you shot back. "Did you sign those papers I gave you?"

"I did."

"Did you read them or did you sign them blindly?"

"I read them." Yoongi walked to you until your faces were inches apart. "I read every single one of them. I don't do things halfway. Is that all?"

You raised your eyebrows. "Do you perhaps want more work? I can arrange for something. There is always more work to be done."

Yoongi scoffed and backed away. "You're impossible."

"Thank you, I try," you said. Your mood sobered as you remembered what had been swirling in your head for the past week. "A letter arrived ahead of the envoy from Harfush, they will be here in three days."

Yoongi's demeanor changed, his shoulders tensing. "We will be ready when they arrive. We have prepared for everything."

"Almost everything," you pointed out. "They are set on this. I know it. They have been pushing for months now and it has only been getting worse. This isn’t going to end with a talk with an envoy. They’re hoping to get land from us in exchange for stopping their attacks but that is only prolonging the inevitable.”

His eyes hardened. “If it comes to it then so be it. We are not giving them anything. We will fight and they will regret bringing the war to us.”

“I will hold you to that.”

The envoy arrived and you were proven right. They were after your northern lands, a large stretch of the kingdom. Yoongi told them in the most political way to go fuck themselves, which—to no one’s surprise—the delegation wasn’t pleased with. They left two days later with thinly-veiled threats of war.

Your kingdom hadn't seen war since the days Yoongi's great-grandfather was king. Peace was a fragile thing but Yoongi's father and grandfather had protected it like the most precious jewel in the realm despite the aggressions of their neighbors. But it had never got that bad. Petty thievery here and there, a few arrogant nobles that dreamed of war. The carefully balanced scales had tragically tipped during Yoongi's reign.

The turning had found you prepared. Your soldiers were many and had trained tirelessly with the cloud of war hanging above them. Your numbers were fewer than the enemy’s but you had something they didn't. Fire. Pyres burning in your souls, stronger than forest fires. That was the gift of the people of Tinigris, the nation of the Tiger.

And so it was only a matter of time.

“What are you still doing here?”

Yoongi was standing over the large map of the continent. On it, figures like chess pieces were carefully arranged, depicting the bigger picture of the stationed troops—your own and the enemy’s.

Yoongi looked up at you, the light casting deep shadows on his face. His hair was falling in his eyes and underneath, dark half-moons were inked in his porcelain skin. "What does it look like?"

"Like you are exhausting yourself going over matters we have already discussed to great lengths when you should be resting."

Yoongi's eyes flashed with something unreadable in the flame of the candles. "The drums of war are at our doorstep, minutes away from spreading like an infection in our land. It is not the time for resting."

"If you want to be dead on your feet tomorrow when we will actually discuss strategy and diplomacy then by all means, it is not the time for resting. If you want to be able to participate in the conversation, I would advise you to go to sleep now."

His hands twitched on the table. "I am not the only one awake, am I?"

The truth was that you had laid in your bed, closed your eyes but sleep refused to come to you. You had tried and failed. Your room was too dark and restricting and you were too restless. You had dressed in a simple black velvet dress with a low neckline, which some of the older nobles would consider scandalous, threw a silky shawl over your shoulders that did nothing to keep you warm, and wandered into the long shadowed hallways.

You couldn't tell him any of that so instead you said, "No, you are not the only one."

The majority of the little soldiers were placed along the borders. Hoseok had sent back a letter confirming what you already knew. There was a war brewing in the North and there was no stopping it. You couldn't run away from the storm, you could only walk into it prepared.

Yoongi's hair wasn't done up in its usual style but he must have carelessly pulled it up himself. Several strands were framing his face and he wasn't wearing his headband. In the quiet madness of the night, he seemed almost vulnerable.

"Why do you speak to me about sleep when you are as awake as I am?" he asked.

"Because at least one of us should sleep," you said. "It will be a long day tomorrow and days will only get longer from here."

His gaze went back to the pieces on the board. "I know that if I go to my chambers, I will find no more peace than you did." The shadows seemed to grow longer on his face. "We have avoided war for years. All of our attempts have been in vain. I'm sending my people into a bloodbath."

"If there was anything more we could do, you know very well we would have done it," you said. "Your people know you don't want this war. We can't stand here while they attack our lands. If we don't fight back, they will raid the villages close to the borders. It will only get worse. Kill, take slaves, do unspeakable things. Blood will be spilled either way. The North is thirsty for it. Better for our people to die defending their homes than be slaughtered with their families at night, unaware."

Yoongi's jaw clenched. In his eyes, you saw the fire and you saw the tiger. "I won't let them. I will fight for them until my last breath. If the North wants blood they will have it. It will overflow."

Yoongi glowed brighter than any flame in the room. Fierce and alluring in the way a sword is, tempting you to cut your finger on the blade to test how sharp it is.

"I won't offer empty words, to you I never have," you said. "It will be hard and we can't know how long it will last. There will be death and there will be wounds that won't heal. But we won't back down. We are the descendants of fighters, of warriors of great deeds. We prospered in peace and we will thrive in war. We will hold the borders, we will hold them back. And I believe we will emerge victorious."

Yoongi reached for something behind him and upon placing them on the table, you realized they were two glasses and a bottle of wine. He poured a generous amount into each and extended one to you.

"Let's drink to that," he said.

"To victories," you said and your glasses clinked.

Everything moved on faster from them, a river getting more and more narrow and running faster and faster. Strategies—political and military—, estimations, gathering the troops, reaching out to allies, making plans. You weren't a great warrior but you had studied battle strategies for years and you viewed battlefields as chess boards. You were great at chess.

Nobles, soldiers, townsfolk, and villagers alike were talking about the war in hushed whispers. Everyone knew it was approaching, a black galloping horse, neighing and squealing. Letters were being exchanged swiftly with the troops on the northern borders, keeping you informed about the moves of the enemy. When war was officially declared, you had to be ready.

Tensions rose in the palace as they did between the two kingdoms. You could barely sleep. When you closed your eyes, you saw images of a red sky, swinging swords, disembodied limbs, and unseeing eyes. You saw destroyed villages and burned houses. They haunted even your dreams. Most nights, you spent in the council room with Yoongi, both of you restless. Sometimes you discussed strategies, sometimes you were quiet in each other's company, other times you fought the way you often did. Upon returning to your rooms, you were able to steal a few hours of sleep.

Time was but an illusion to you. Days blended into each other yet you were intensely aware of each one passing. You drowned in meetings with the council, late nights with the King, and dealing with the noble families—an art you had once upon a time mastered but was slipping through your fingers.

Tensions were rising in the palace. Yoongi was on edge, running from meeting to meeting until he was bound to burn out. Your patience was running thin.

And the King, most of all, was testing it.

"You can't ride at the front in the battle," you said, repeating yourself for what felt like the thousandth time. You were in his office with Namjoon, debating his stupid ideas. "If you are killed, the war is over. Who will be left to lead the soldiers? You have no heir, no brothers or sisters, no one to continue the line."

"Who will lead them then?" Yoongi asked ferociously. "Who will they follow if not their king? Hoseok will be by my side. We will protect each other."

You gripped the glass of wine tighter. You wanted to get up and pace but you wouldn't give him the satisfaction. "This isn't training. This is a real war, protecting each other won't guarantee that either of you are safe. You will be the main target the moment you step into the battlefield. Do you expect the king of Harfush to charge first into battle? To fight at all?"

"I'm nothing like him!" Yoongi said sharply. "I will not hide behind my soldiers while they fight my kingdom's battles! I refuse to cower in the camp like a coward."

"I'm not asking you to," you said, trying to keep your voice from rising. "I'm asking you not to run first into the battle and become an easy target. Do you know how easy it will be for them to shoot you with arrows?"

"She is right, you know," Namjoon said. He was sitting on the other chair in front of Yoongi's large wooden desk, bent over a few papers. What he was writing, you had no idea. Yoongi narrowed his eyes in betrayal. "You want to lead the charge, I understand that, it's the honorable thing to do but they aren't honorable. If you are dead, our people won't know who to follow. There will be chaos and Harfush will take advantage of that."

Yoongi got to his feet, it sounded like an earthquake. "What would you have me do then? I will fight! You can't hold me back from fighting for my kingdom!"

Silent words passed between you and Namjoon. Neither of you liked the idea but it was true that you couldn't stop Yoongi from fighting. You would have to tie him up to keep him in the camp.

You sipped on the wine, an action that seemed to only agitate Yoongi further. "You will fight. But not in the front lines and you won't have only Hoseok with you but your personal guard as well. The ones who are willing to lose their lives to save yours."

"Is that it?" Yoongi asked, something animalistic in his expression. It was coming closer to the surface the past few weeks, clawing and snarling. "Are you making all the decisions for the war? Deciding what is best for MY people?"

Namjoon paused his writing. "We are not making any decisions for you. We only want you to see reason. We are here to advice and guide you, not force your hand."

You held back a huff. "Riding first into battle is suicide. And who will lead YOUR people then? When you are no longer here to do it."

"Why don't you lead them since you seem to believe you can do it so much better?" he snarled. His hand struck the desk with a loud thump, papers, candles and glasses clattering. Namjoon steadied the ink bottle before it could spill and paint the room blue. You held yourself back from flinching.

The world stood still for a moment like it was holding its breath. Yoongi's lips parted. Quickly he pulled back his hand and looked away.

"I'm sorry," he said, gritting his teeth. "I let my temper get the best of me."

Your heartbeat was rising but you kept your voice steady. "I have no desire to lead, only to advise you. I can do nothing more. It isn't only your life on the line. It's the kingdom. Your life is more important than honor or your desire to prove you are a good king."

His jaw clenched. "I will think about it." A dismissal of the conversation. Namjoon went back to his papers and you rested back on the chair, your fingers drumming the tune of war on the arms.

The days grew smaller and the nights longer. Your blood was either freezing or burning. The songs in the court were lifeless, a front no one was believing anymore. Fewer people were good enough pretenders to sing and dance. Wine tasted dull on your tongue. Underneath everything, you were scheming.

War. It had turned from a whisper into a chant. It was the cold breath on your neck in the middle of the night, chilling you to the bone. But you were ready for it. As ready as someone could be for the cruelty humanity had created.

It didn't start with fire or a war cry. It started with a letter. A declaration of war sealed with the royal seal of Harfush.

The night before the King's departure, you and Yoongi met in the council room.

"You are not coming to the front," Yoongi said, thunder flashing in his face. "You are to stay here and rule in my stead. There is no place for you on the battlefield."

You stood your ground, you were used to Yoongi's dangerous looks that would have made anyone else cower. The candles burned around the council room like pyres in the night.

"I am no ruler," you said. "I am the King's advisor and I should be where the king is. Be it the Castle or the battlefield. I will go where you go."

Yoongi clenched his fists. "You are not coming to the front and that's the end. I need you here to take care of the kingdom while I'm gone."

"Namjoon is more than capable of taking care of the kingdom, the council listens to him more than they listen to me." Many in the council believed you were too young and too inexperienced to be the King's advisor. No one would say it in front of Yoongi but amongst themselves they whispered that he had chosen wrong. "You need me there," you continued. "I have studied battles all my life, I am one of the best war strategies you have. It would be foolish not to take advantage of that."

"I have studied battles all my life too and I will have my generals with me. Your place is here in the castle and that is where you will stay."

Anger licked your insides with tongues of fire. "Are you ordering me?" When he stayed silent, you went on. "Do you seriously believe they need me more here than on the front where our fate will be decided? You have always been the better fighter, I was never good at that, but when it comes to strategy, I was better and you know it. Let me be there for you, let me do what I'm meant to do. What is a King's Advisor without a king?"

"Don't." The power was gone from his voice, his head bent. "Stay here. The kingdom needs you."

"The kingdom needs to win and they need you. And I shall be by your side,” you said, not leaving him any chance to contradict you. “I won’t go into the battle, obviously. I will stay at the camp which will be protected and if they reach the camp, that means the war is over. It wouldn’t make a difference if I were there or in the castle. I would be doomed either way.”

“If we lose,” he said through gritted teeth as if it pained him to think about it. “You can escape the castle, go to another country, take Namjoon with you and start anew.”

You were fuming. “Would you run away if you had the chance? Would you escape if you were in my place? Take the coward’s way out?” He looked away. “I am not going anywhere.” Concealed in a pocket of your dress, you pulled out a blade as long as your hand and threw it on the table. “I would rather slit my neck with this blade than run away. I either do this here or at the camp. You choose.”

Yoongi stared at the blade. He was as tense as a tightrope. Watching him was like watching a forest fire. Until something crumbled or it could have been the tremble of the flames surrounding you. He drew back, pulling his eyes away.

“Don’t do it,” he muttered at last. “Stay here.”

“I can’t.”

“Do as you please then.”

Please comment and reblog it motivates me to keep writing

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agusfree · 1 year ago

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Latibule VI

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which you didn’t know who he truly was- until it was too late. Or in which he found heaven in you.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: never tell me I don’t love my readers when I’m here writing when I just got my heart broken hehehehe

Masterlist, Latibule V

You turned around when you heard a dull thump of mug hitting the wooden table, distracting you from looking at the stars. Suga was standing behind you with his own steaming cup of coffee, looking tiredly at you before taking a seat.

“Finally got him to sleep?”

He sighed before taking a sip from his coffee. He brushed his hair away from his face as he looked up at the stars. “Seriously, who needs bedtime stories in order to sleep?” He scoffed, remembering how Jackson insisted that he read him stories because, and he quoted, ‘Ahjussi has a deep, nice voice perfect for princes and monsters’.

See, he didn’t even know why he digressed, but that little child looked up at him expectantly that he found himself doing voices that made the child laughed. It was so out of character for him, the big, bad mafia. If his men saw him like that, they would surely thought he hit his head or something. Even he thought that he hit his head. Otherwise, why would he do all those things?

“Children, Suga,” you chuckled at his exhausted face before returning your gaze at the stars, of how they twinkled back at you, of how tragically beautiful they were. You never tired of looking at them night after night, committing them to memory, admiring them from afar. “Didn’t your parents read to you when you were a child?”

He chuckled tonelessly. His family wasn’t exactly…conventional. Hell, if he was raised with normal childhood where parents loved their kids, would he have turned out fine and not the fucked up man he was? The one who was incapable of love?

You looked at him as he looked up at the stars, his hands resting behind him, supporting his weight. The night was quiet, peaceful even. He looked so stoic, so tranquil that you thought he would never answered. After all, you practically knew nothing about him. For heaven’s sake, you had to name him because he refused to give you his name. Despite him existing in your life for months, you didn’t know any truth about him. He was always quick to dodge your questions, asking you questions of his own instead of answering. You didn’t expect him to tell you any of his truths.

This was also the reason why you convinced yourself not to look too much into what you felt, or how your heart seemed to calm when he was near…or how you felt like you were no longer alone for the first time since that tragedy that changed the trajectory of your life. This was all temporary, you kept telling yourself.

One day, he would leave and you would be alone again.

However much to your surprise, he finally answered. “My mother…used to sing lullabies to me every night,” his deep voice divulged, his eyes still trained to the stars you loved to look up to every night. This was the first time he talked about her, the first time he looked back on the nightmare that was his childhood. “She loved singing those French love songs,” he chuckled humorlessly, remembering how her voice calmed the young Yoongi.

“She’s probably worried about you right now…” you mused, thinking of how he had been gone from his normal life for months now. What parent would have not been worried, you thought.

He smirked before looking at you with emotionless eyes. “Why? She’s dead. And even if she’s alive, I don’t think she’s the kind to be worried.”

You frowned, surely that wasn’t the truth, you thought. “Suga-“

He leaned in, looking intensely at you, taking your space as though it was his. He placed his fingers under your chin, tilting your face to his liking. “She gave me this scar,” he whispered, his tone light like he was merely talking about the weather. “Daddy dearest made her choose. Her face-“ he tucked your stray hair behind your ear, his fingers touching your softly as though he wasn’t telling you his tragic childhood. “-or my eye. Guess which one she chose?”

Your lips trembled at what he said. You struggled to look at his eyes, your eyes shifting. What kind of twisted parents would hurt their child? What kind of demon would scar a helpless child? This close and you could see how deep the scar was and it pained you to think of the young Suga bleeding and crying as he clutched his eye.

“And now, I’m hideous,” he sneered, taking your silence as rejection, as disgust, as loathing. He was about to step back when you reached out and slowly, oh so slowly, traced his scar.

“Who told you that?” You asked softly, looking at his eyes with sincerity that it terrified him because no one had ever looked at him like that. You smiled at him, “You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen, Suga.”

He looked at you with wonder, his expression slowly relaxing. How could an angel such as you thought of him as beautiful? If…if you knew what he had done, what he was capable of doing, would you still willingly touch him?

Would you still call him beautiful?

Would you finally see him as the monster that he truly was?

You were about to pull away from him when he laid his hand on yours, unwilling to be separated from this feeling that he couldn’t name for how could he when he was never shown love? When he was never taught of love?

How could he knew he was falling for you when that emotion was foreign to him?

“I-is your father still alive?”

He shook his head, not trusting his voice. He thought he would feel regret when he opened up about his past to you. Strangely, all he felt was peace. He felt lighter.

“Good,” you whispered, nodding your head. They didn’t deserve to still be in Suga’s life after the horrifying deeds they did to a defenseless child.

“Noona?”

You snapped out of the trance that you were in, quickly putting distance that Suga hated upon hearing Jackson. He was rubbing the sleep off of his eyes as he walked to where the two of you were. “I woke up from a nightmare. A monster was chasing me, ahjussi,” he said sadly, cheeks damped from his tears. He looked up at Suga with a pout, lifting his little arms expectantly. Yet Suga looked at him in confusion.

“What? W-what does he want, Angel?” He asked you, shifting his gaze from the young child to you as though he was asking for help.

“I think…he wants you to pick him up.”

He sighed before easily picking him up. The child was quick to wrap his arms around Suga’s broad shoulders, his chubby cheeks leaning on his shoulder. “I wasn’t scared, ahjussi! I knew you can fight the monsters,” he boasted sleepily.

Suga didn’t even notice himself smiling at the sentiment. Of course he would slay all the monsters…despite him being one. Once the two of you got him in bed, Suga was about to turn around and leave when he called for him, whining about wanting him to stay so he could slay his demons.

And in that moment, Suga looked at you for permission. He held your eyes captive, his eyes gently awaiting your decision. You nodded at him, and the three of you laid quietly. Jackson was fast asleep in between the two of you, the darkness of the night making it difficult for you to know whether Suga was sleeping. Yet, when you turned to look at him, he was already looking at you with his dark eyes, his body fully attuned to yours.

You turned to him, your hands under your head as you looked at him. “I’m glad you survived that,” you whispered truthfully, your eyes tracing his scarred one.

He looked as though he was contemplating. You thought he would never answer as he was only looking at you, but then he asked, “Why?”

“Because you’re here now.”

In that moment, he was convinced now more than ever that they never loved him. Because when you loved someone, you would never hurt them, you would never even entertain the thought of hurting them. No. When you love someone, you protect them. You cherished them. You would never, ever, lay your hands on them. Yoongi thought that he would rather die than hurt you.

“May I help you?” You asked the tall and broad shouldered man. You noticed him looking around the clinic, his back facing yours. He looked like he was at loss as to what to do.

He turned around slowly, his dark eyes focusing on yours as he took you in. You weren’t ready when you finally saw him. He looked like he could say that he was a movie star and you would completely believe him with no question asked. He could claim that he was a prince and you would say, ‘yep, that sounds right’.

In conclusion, his beauty was out of this world. And he looked like he was aware of it. He had this clean look in him, almost clinical in nature. His hair was neatly combed back, his long-sleeves folded to his elbow.

“I…” he started, his brows furrowed as he considered what and how he was going to say. “I lost my cat.”

“Oh no, that’s terrible!”

He scrunched his nose and thought whether losing Yoongi was really terrible. His life was way quieter without him. Did he really want to look for him, he thought. He looked like he was in deep contemplation. “It…is?”

Your head tilted to the side in confusion. Wasn’t it a terrible thing to have lost your own pet?

At your expression, he straightened and nodded his head solemnly, willing you to believe him. “Yes. It’s terrible. It is.”

“What did you say you lost?”

“Yoongi,” he whispered under his breath.

“What?”

“I meant- a cat. I lost a vicious cat. A dangerous one,” he stated, his voice strong. “It is imperative that I find him.”

You blinked at his statement, and then some more when he wouldn’t stop looking at you. “Do you want my help?”

Suga looked at the clinic’s secretary with a dull expression on his face. For weeks since he started working at that diner as a waiter slash guard when rowdy teenagers visited the diner with no intention to pay, he always picked you up from the clinic. It became your tradition to go home together. He would go to the clinic as soon as he finished his work, and you would be where he wanted you to be- in your office waiting for him.

So where the fuck were you now?

He had his arms crossed, his eyes trained on her despite her trembling form.

“She’s not here,” he repeated slowly, not liking the thought of not knowing where you were. It pissed him off. It unnerved him. It didn’t sit right with him.

“She left early with some guy…”

Min Yoongi had never felt that exceedingly terrifying feeling before. It gnawed at his bone, it punched his heart as his brain thought of million grotesque scenarios concerning you. Did his enemies find you? Did his enemies found out that he was fucking alive? Did they somehow get to you?

Did you now know who he truly was?

His hand curled into a tight fist as he felt darkness clung to his mind. Was this how his paradise end?

You eyed the man sitting on your sofa. You helped him looked all over the town to no avail, yet when you asked him if he had a picture of his pet so that the search would be easier, he claimed that he lost his phone early that day.

He was calmly sipping the coffee you made him, looking around your house with nonchalant observation. It was already dark outside and you kept on looking at the clock. You wondered where Suga was. It was hours past his shift and he still wasn’t home.

“I’m sorry we didn’t find your cat.”

He smiled gently at you before softly placing the cup of coffee back on the table. You noticed that his movement was always refined, that he moved with an air of elegance as though he was born with a golden spoon.

“That’s fine,” he started, his voice deep and his eyes shone with intelligence like he knew something you didn’t. “He’ll come.”

You were about to ask him what he meant by that when the front door slammed opened. Suga’s eyes seemed to appear darker than the usual, his form menacing. This was the first time you saw him resembled a wild predator. He seemed to appear unhinged, his look of bewilderment when he finally found you made you unconsciously stepped back as he neared you with heavy steps.

But you didn’t get far.

You would have fallen had it not been for his arms that wrapped around you tightly as though he would never let you go. You never knew how big he was until he had you plastered to him, his form completely enveloping you. This close and you could hear how hard his heart was beating, how it wanted to break free from the cage that was his ribs. This close and you could feel how his body was trembling with an emotion you didn’t know.

“S-Suga-“

“Never,” he growled, his dark hair cascading on his face making him looked more feral. He gently pushed you away, his hands on your shoulder as he made you looked at him with ferocity. He was taking you in, the alarm in his face hadn’t gone down an inch. But the moment he saw you, he looked as though a weight had been taken off his shoulder.

He had never felt as thankful to whatever deity or Gods that were out there than he did the moment he saw you alive, that you were still here in front of him, that he could still fucking hold you.

“Never, ever go somewhere without telling me first,” he growled at you with a dark look on his face . He was imposing and serious like you had never seen him before. “Never go somewhere where I cannot fucking follow-“

“Suga, please calm do-“

“Do you understand me, Angel?” He cut you off as he tilted your chin up, making you understood how fucking terrified he was, of how he would find any other answer unacceptable but your agreement. And when you finally nodded did he reluctantly let you out of his hands.

And only then did he notice the man sitting on the sofa with a smirk on his face.

“Hyung.”

- National Police Agency, South Korea -

Park Jimin was staring at his laptop unblinkingly. Ever since he found out who the traitor was, he was at loss with what to do. He was raised to value both the organization and family. And right now, he needed to choose between the two.

He couldn’t find the answer as to why he was able to do what he did. He couldn’t understand why he betrayed Yoongi when he protected them like they were his own brothers. Min Yoongi, as dangerous as that man was, took lashes for them. He would tell them to fuck off and then catch a bullet for them. He made the difficult decisions for them. He bled just so the seven of them could live.

Min Yoongi was the most loyal man he ever knew.

And so, how could that traitor do that to him?

“Detective Park.”

Jimin lifted his eyes to the man who called him. He was wearing his uniform, just having been temporarily promoted to Yoongi’s position. He was smiling like the sunshine he was perceived to be, yet behind those smiles lied something dangerous…something sinister.

“A word.”

He smiled at the traitor.

He smiled at Jung Hoseok.

Latibule VII

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agusfree · 1 year ago

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Outside of the Fox Masterlist

Y/N longs for a new life when the one she'd been living comes to an abrupt stop. Without much thought to those she is leaving behind, the little fox packs a backpack and disappears. She stumbles across the shelter and makes an interim home for herself while she works out exactly what she wants from her second chance.

Tags: Slow burn, Polyamoury, Smut (none-specific yet), Anxiety disorder, Hybrids

Hybrid types and personalities

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapters 20-30?

Masterlist

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agusfree · 1 year ago

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(Un)natural Instincts (Part 1)

I'm finally showing up in tags again woohoo! 🥳 Thank you guys for your patience!

angst, fluff, smut

Pairings: OT7 x Reader, Human CEO Reader, Human Assistant Yoongi, Wolf Hybrids Joon, Jin, Hobi, Jimin, Tae, and Kook.

Basic premise: You and your assistant end up rescuing six wolf hybrids. No part of the process is easy.

General Warnings: Hybrid abuse and lab experimentation, hybrids as second-class citizens/owned property, future smut (Minors DNI, 18+ content)

Specific Warnings: needles, torture collars, misogyny in the workplace, probably very inaccurate business talk (pls suspend disbelief lmao)

____

The day starts off as typical as any other, with your assistant bringing you your morning coffee. You mindlessly take a sip while scrolling through your emails, except what welcomes your lips isn’t the usual Americano, but some Iced Matcha abomination—disgustingly too sweet for nine o’clock in the morning. You look up, ready to give Assistant Min a piece of your mind, but instead see a woman in his place.

“Who are you?”

The woman flashes you a nervous smile, hands fiddling in front of her stomach.

“Yoongi-ssi had an emergency, so I’m filling in. I’m the new hire, S—”

“I don’t care what your name is, this isn’t my coffee order. Bring me my Americano before my first meeting.”

“I’m so sorry! I was taking orders for all the executives, so I got confused. I’ll bring it asap!”

She runs off, feet clicking with each hurried step of her heels.

You toss the unnaturally green drink in the trash, annoyed at the setback in your morning routine. After shooting a quick "Are you okay?" text to Yoongi, you're back to your work.

Emails pile up in your inbox as they do every morning, mountains of classified information that you need to comb through before your 10am meeting. It’s tedious, but it’s the family business after all. Your grandfather started Shin Investments in the forties, and your dad took the business to new heights when he took over, now with your parents retired and on some island in god-knows-where, it’s up to you to make sure the company doesn’t lose its footing in the venture capitalist industry.

It's twenty minutes later when your Americano does arrive. Your eyes narrow into slits upon holding the cup in your hands.

“It’s lukewarm.”

“Oh my god, I apologize! Mr. Han stopped me on the way here, briefing me about what to prep for the afternoon meeting. I did not mean to take so long! I’ll heat it up and bring it back.”

You wave your hand dismissively.

“No need. You’re fired.”

The woman almost stumbles on air at your words, catching her balance quickly.

“Miss Shin p-please..I really need this job! I won’t make a single mistake from now on!”

“Too late.” You reach for the cup, the second one of the day to end up in the trash. “Please leave before I call security. I have work to do and no caffeine to help me.”

She doesn’t leave, but rather falls to her knees, waterworks in full effect. You let out a irritated huff.

“Please! Please, I need this!”

You don’t pay the commotion any attention, used to such scenes happening in your office by now. You simply dial security.

Your receptionist watches the new girl get dragged out, eyes sympathetic as she’s tossed right in front of the front desk.

“She-she fired me…all for a cup of coffee…I’ve worked so hard to get into this company and she just…for a fucking cup of coffee!”

Mascara stains a black rim around her eyes.

“I’m so sorry Seulgi-shi. You don’t deserve that.”

“M-maybe I should go beg for a second chance after some time has passed? What if I come back in the eve—”

“You’ll be wasting your time. That would’ve worked with the previous bosses…but Miss Shin is as tough as it gets. It’s unfortunate, but I’ve seen countless people get fired for less than a cup of coffee—dragged out here just like you.”

You overhear the conversation, as the security guard didn’t properly close the door on their way out. You can’t say it makes you feel all that good, crushing some fresh-faced new hire’s dreams, but it sends a message. You knew what you had to do once the company was signed over for you—how you had to conduct yourself to survive. The world of venture capitalism was cutthroat to say the least, and still considered “not women’s business” by many. The sad reality was that, if you wanted to be taken seriously, you’d have to be feared—because respected was rarely an option. So, you play your role well and let the rumor mill do the rest, so everyone knows not to mess with the ruthless bitch of a CEO at Shin Investments.

You walk into the meeting room and the vibe immediately changes: the once lively room of everyone asking each other how their weekends went turns silent enough to hear a feather fall. Only sound is that of your red-bottoms click-clacking and earrings jingling. You take your seat, motioning for the standing executives to do the same. They can tell you’re more irritated than usual, and that could easily mean a demotion with one wrong move.

“Everyone’s here so let’s jump into it: where are we with HoloPad?”

“We’re at the audit stage ma’am.”

“Still?”

The tension in the air is palpable.

“Th-there’s been some—erm—gap in the books. They are working on fixing it right now.”

“So they’re cooking the books?”

“I-uh-I wouldn’t say—”

“Calling it something else isn’t going to change the fact that they’re cooking the books Mr.Choi. Call off the deal.”

The executives stare at each other with dumbfounded faces, hushed complaints erupting at the table.

“But ma’am…the CEO is the heir of Jun Tech…it’s not advisable to ruin our relationship with them.”

A bunch of others chime in with the same sentiment, and you have the room of men turned against you as usual.

“Is that so Mr.Choi? Do you really advise me to invest millions into a venture that can’t even provide proper financial records? All to avoid making the Jun family angry? Mind I remind you that this is a business, not a family drama?”

“It’s just—”

“And all of you who agree with Mr.Choi here…don’t think I don’t notice the new watches on your wrists. Can’t be a coincidence, can it? Everyone who wants to continue with the deal happening to buy the newest Jun Tech watches at the same time?”

Five people, including Choi, scramble to take off their watches, heads down in shame.

You let out a hollow laugh. “You all are too dumb to even be bribed properly, I can’t believe it! Anyways, I expect five letters of resignation on my desk by tomorrow morning. This is me extending my grace for all the work you’ve done in the company so far, but if you don’t voluntarily leave, I will not hesitate to disgracefully remove you.”

That’s the last thing you say before click-clacking your heels out the room, not missing the outbursts of “bitch” and various other insults blaring from the other side of the door as soon as you leave.

It’s moments like these when you just want to call your father and have him step in to help, but you can’t. You can’t be seen as a fragile little daddy’s girl in a room full of bloodthirsty businessmen. You keep your composure until you’re in the comfort of your office, where you let yourself decompress for a minute. Only a minute, though, because your receptionist is soon knocking at your door to remind you of a charity event tonight—a reminder that would’ve come from the temporary assistant if you had not fired her an hour before.

___

The charity auction seems standard, with the usual crowd flaunting off their rare pieces of art and jewelry under the guise of doing something good. You’re not in a place to judge too much, considering you’re also here doing the same thing. You are the only one who seems to see how ridiculous it all is though, for the little that’s worth.

“Y/N! Long time no see!”

You’re immediately swept up into various groups of people wanting to “catch-up” (aka keep in your good graces for their next business venture).

Yup. A typical day.

Until Kang Byung-hun approaches you with that same condescending smile he gives you at every event. He’s a short, plump man, a little bit older in age than your father, and he’s a complete pain in your ass. The not-so-subtle jabs during formal dinners, gossiping behind your back, and overall misogynistic world-view makes you want to tear out your hair every time you see him.

“Mr.Kang!” You say in the cheeriest tone, smiling wide. He’s a pain, but he’s got a lot of influence, and you’d be an idiot to dismiss that.

“Ah Y/N. I see you’ve done yourself up for this event. On the lookout for a husband, are we?”

You keep your smile through gritted teeth.

“Just looking my best for the noble cause, sir.”

“I’m sure.”

The wait staff comes around with wine at just the right time, because god knows you can’t deal with this without at least some alcohol in you.

“Oh, I actually do have some business with you. Are you down to talk in private a bit later?”

“Why wait? Let’s talk now.” You’d rather just get it over with.

“It requires some preparation. Have to make a few calls and get some things here. I was going to put on a nice presentation in your office, but now’s a good as time as any!”

“Sounds good sir.”

What you wouldn’t give to just go home, take off these uncomfortable heels, and just face-plant on your soft bed right now. But nope, you have to wait around for this jack-ass to put on his little show. As much as he dismisses you, Kang Byung-hun is no idiot when it comes to business. Whatever his newest idea is, he knows Shin Investments is the best option for financing—especially in the bad state of the market right now.

So an hour before the party is supposed to end, you get a tap on your shoulder by Kang’s assistant, and promptly follow her to one of the spare rooms at the venue. Kang sits with a glass of champagne in hand, flashing a smile that you can’t stand. You take a seat across the circular table.

“We already exchanged pleasantries earlier, so I’ll just cut to the chase. I just got the patent for a new piece of revolutionary technology, and I’d like for Shin Investments to finance the project.”

“What type of technology are we talking?”

“How aware are you with the current market for hybrids, Y/N?”

You shrug nonchalantly. Honestly, the topic of hybrids makes you uncomfortable, as you think of it as unethical to own anything even remotely human, but you keep your personal preferences to yourself.

“I know it’s a booming industry, especially in the last three years. And I know the market is big for training tech right now.”

“Precisely!” He beams. “Training technology is in high demand. You saw how much of a hit the snake hybrid calming diffuser by Pet Armor was. Sold out in minutes! Not to mention raised the demand for snake hybrids in general. That’s when I knew I had to get in on the action and expand to the hybrid market.”

“So is that what it is? Is Pet Paradise launching its own diffuser? For a different type of hybrid?”

He shakes his head, “Nope. You know how I like to do things big, Y/N. A new hybrid diffuser is too small of a scale. What we’re creating will change the hybrid market forever.” He ends with a snap of his fingers, to which his assistant takes cue.

Before you can even process what’s going on, a leashed wolf hybrid is brought into the room.

Your attention immediately goes to the bulky metal collar around his neck, filled with buttons and stats.

“Meet Jungkook, one of the hybrids we’re beta-testing on. That magnificent thing around his neck is the Obedience Collar, and it’s going to blow your mind.”

You feel sick, dinner threatening to come up your throat the sight. The boy looks no older than twenty-one, and has more fear in his eyes than you thought possible. He’s trembling, eyes trained on the floor, trying to make himself small in the big room.

“Now, it’s no secret that wolf hybrids are amongst the hardest to train, that’s why they make the perfect subjects for this,” his assistant hands you an iPad as he talks, “first, I’d like for you to watch a video of Jungkook before he started wearing the Obedience Collar.”

You reluctantly click play, seeing the wolf hybrid with so much life in his eyes. Life and anger. He’s growling and punching his way through a team of researchers, thrashing around for his dear life.

“What a violent and unsophisticated creature he used to be!”

You have to consciously unclench your fists, making sure not to show your true feelings. It’s excruciating to sit there and listen when all you want to do is see how Kang would like it if a group of strangers got their hands on him like that.

“But now, with Pet Paradise’s newest invention, he’s the most timid little thing you could own!”

“A shock collar? Hybrid shock collars are already a thing, Mr.Kang.”

Your voice shakes slightly, and you hope no one notices.

“No no, that’s not what this is. A shock collar is a good training tool, of course, but it’s not the most efficient way to train a hybrid. If you swipe on that iPad, you’ll see the design of this collar is far advanced.”

So you hold your breath and swipe.

And whatever you’re expecting, it’s worse.

This isn’t a normal collar by any means, as proven by the product shots. The inside is lined with thin needles, which you can’t see as they are quite literally jammed into Jungkook’s neck right now.

Holy fuck.

“You see, Y/N, the Obedience Collar works from the inside. The collar is supplied with our newly developed synthetic hormones, which are injected into the bloodstream through the needles. The hormones are specifically structured to work with the DNA of most mammal hybrids, and can even make something as unruly as a wolf hybrid behave. The changes take effect within fifteen minutes of collaring! There’s a little hormone pack in the back of the collar,” he motions for Jungkook to turn around, and the boy obeys instantly, showing the rectangular box in the back of the collar, “those will need to be refilled every six months—which we’ll sell separately, so the business model is more than sustainable. Isn’t this a gold mine of an opportunity?”

Keep calm Y/N. Breathe. Compose yourself.

“Very impressive stuff,” you force out, “but I’m not sure Shin Investments is the right fit for this project. Wouldn’t you want a partner more familiar with the hybrid market?”

“Tsk tsk tsk, Y/N. What kind of venture capitalist is afraid of diversifying their portfolio? You can’t survive this industry if you only play in familiar territory—your grandfather and father both know this very well. Besides, I heard a rumor that the deal with Jun’s son won’t be going through. I’m sure the board members are having low morale right now…so why not appease them with an even better deal?”

You can’t stand the way he chastises you. What you can’t stand even more is that, from a business perspective, he’s making sense. You know a lucrative business when you see one, and this is definitely one of those. And as unintuitive as it seems, it’s all legal. Hybrid abuse isn’t really a thing the government concerns itself with, which is why the only real law is not to intentionally kill one, and even that is enforced loosely. There’s no rules being broken, no shady deals, just a proposal as legal as the meeting you had two days ago where a start-up pitched their new smart fridge. Except this time it’s not a smart fridge you’re discussing, it’s the life of a very scared and no doubt in pain hybrid, that’s standing less than five feet away from you.

Kang sees the gears in your head turning as you find any way to refuse this deal for a rational reason. So he starts playing his game of mind-chess once again, a game he’d mastered since before you were even born.

“Look, I’ll be frank with you. If you were any other woman, I wouldn’t even consider bringing this deal to you. Because we both know most women tend to be too emotional to do good business. But you’re not like that—hell, you’ve got more backbone than half the men at this party. So, what’s stopping you?”

There it was. The emotional card. The thing you were most concerned about, how showing even one ounce of emotion could be blown out of proportion because of your gender. You’ve worked too damn hard to create your reputation, and that’s why the next words out of your mouth spill before you can even think about it.

“You’re right, I was being too cautious. Let’s start with the proper procedures during work hours.”

Shit. He got you. Checkmate.

The man’s face erupts in the sleaziest grin possible.

“Perfect! You won’t regret this, it’s going to be big! In fact, I have one more surprise for you!”

You raise your brows, not needing anymore fucking surprises tonight.

“It’s Jungkook! He’s yours for the month!”

Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head at that statement.

“Excuse me?!”

“It’s a token of our appreciation. You get to be the first ever person to own a hybrid with an Obedience Collar! You can see first-hand how remarkable the technology is. There’s five others from his pack that we can continue our tinkering on, so one less won’t hurt us. Don’t worry, the synthetic hormone part is fully developed, we’re just trying to make the collar look sleeker.”

It’s not uncommon nor unethical for you to be gifted prototypes. Businesses love giving you a taste of what you’re putting your money into, as a way to give you confidence in the product and maybe even open up possibilities for a bigger investment. But you’d never thought someone would give you a fucking hybrid.

You almost open your mouth to decline, saying something along the lines of not wanting the responsibility of a hybrid…but then something comes over you. You realize that declining means sending Jungkook back to the lab—and you just can’t bring yourself to do that. The damage you’re going to be doing by investing in this collar is going to be devastating as it is, no doubt making you the indirect torturer of many hybrids to come, but in some twisted sense of morality—you want to at least save the one in front of your eyes. Maybe even pretend that you have some good left in you.

“Thank you. I’d love to take him.”

___

The car ride back is silent and tense. Jungkook hasn’t said a single word, much less lifted his head to even look at you. He’s still trembling in the passenger seat. You have zero clue how to approach the situation. It’s not like you can take off the collar, as it’s a prototype with data still being transferred to the lab. You agreed to take him home to give him a better life, but you haven’t exactly thought far enough ahead as to how; judging by how scared he is right now, you know this isn’t going to be easy.

It's midnight when you reach home, and all you want to do is sleep. But you can’t yet, not until Jungkook is settled in. You lead him to a spare bedroom; it’s incredibly spacious and practically decorated for royalty, with a king-sized bed right in the center.

“This is where you’ll be staying.”

You see his head lift up for the first time, doe eyes scanning the room in disbelief.

“It’s late so we’ll talk more tomorrow, but for now sleep here. I don’t have nightclothes for you yet, so just sleep in what you’re wearing for the night. There are water bottles on the nightstand if you get thirsty. Do you need anything else before I head to bed?”

He adamantly shakes his head no, prompting you to exit. However, right as you’re about to walk out the door, you hear rumbling. More specifically, his stomach is rumbling. You turn back around.

“You’re hungry, aren’t you?”

No response.

“If you’re hungry, you need to tell me.”

Those words seem to turn some gears in his head, as he utters his first words of the night.

“I’m hungry Miss.”

It catches you off guard how quickly he gets the words out, much different from the no-speaking rule he had enacted on himself up until now.

That’s when the realization hits you.

If you’re hungry, you need to tell me.

It sounds like a command, and that damn Obedience Collar is sure to make him comply.

You let out a defeated sigh before guiding him to the kitchen. Your cook has already called it a day, so you prepare one of the few things your tired brain can handle—frozen waffles. You toss them into a toaster, drizzle some syrup, and pile on a generous amount of whipped cream before pushing a plate in front of the awestruck boy.

“Eat up.”

With the eagerness in which he digs into the plate, you’re sure he’d be the same way without the direct command.

And that’s how your first night with Jungkook goes, with you making sure he’s fed and in his bed before heading to your own. You notice he’s trembling a little less. Baby steps.

____

A/N: If you're liking this fic, please let me know! I love and appreciate every interaction!

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agusfree · 1 year ago

Text

Vows (Part 1)

aka 10 ways to win your husband's heart: an arranged marriage AU

You're five years into your arranged marriage with Min Yoongi, and he's never once retaliated for anything you've done to him. One day you realise you've lost your appetite for provoking him, and you set about trying to win his heart instead.

Pairing: Yoongi x F! reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Arranged marriage, e2l, smut, angst

Word count: 12k

Warnings: Sex, swearing

Ah shit.

You lift the arm curled around your waist off you and commando roll out of the luxurious california king you’ve woken up in.

The beautiful man you woke up with shifts and his face presses into the pillow.

You tear your admiring eyes away from him guiltily and grab his shirt from the floor, slipping it on, buttoning quickly.

You’re tiptoeing to the door when a grumpy deep voice makes you freeze.

‘That’s my favourite shirt,’ your husband says.

You reach for your patience and don’t find it.

Min Yoongi has exhausted all your reserves of goodwill towards him.

‘I was trying to be considerate and not wake you up,’ you say through gritted teeth.

He snorts.

Your blood pressure spikes.

You unbutton the shirt and seriously consider throwing it at his beautiful head.

You’re so annoyed it takes you longer than it should to register the way his gaze is roaming your naked body.

‘Min Yoongi,’ you say, injecting as much ice into your tone as you can, ‘you know we can only tolerate each other when we’re drunk.’

‘My morning wood’s not picky,’ he drawls, like it’s a compliment.

You roll your eyes. You know Yoongi’s always been attracted to you physically.

It’s your personality he can’t stand.

‘I’m sore,’ you tell him briskly, putting your dress back on.

You’re not lying. You think Yoongi sometimes takes his anger with you out on your cunt.

You love it, really, but he’s got a generous dick and impressive stamina and you really are sore.

Yoongi, unusually, looks concerned. ‘Was it too much?’

You ignore the flutter in your chest as he picks your panties off the floor and passes them to you, smoothing a soothing hand over your lower back.

You step away from his touch as though his hand is burning.

His sigh of irritation gives you life.

‘You’re deeply annoying,’ he tells you.

You smile, brilliantly, at him.

‘Oh Yoongi, are you this sweet to all the women you sleep with?’

‘Are you this annoying to all the men you fuck?’ he snaps.

Your smile falters for a second before you pull your mask firmly back in place.

You turn away from him and leave his bedroom without a goodbye.

***

Yoongi stares at the mark on his neck, just above the collar of his shirt, and thinks of you as he gets dressed for work.

Of course you’d had to mark him, even after he’d warned you not to.

Sometimes you’re so fucking exasperating he can’t stand you.

Now he has to meet his entire board, including his father and grandfather, looking like a horny teenager.

He has a flashback to your beautiful thighs wrapped around his hips, ankles crossed behind him, as you begged him not to stop.

Yoongi tries to shut that image out of his head before the erection he’s had all morning returns, but the image is burned into his retinas.

Shit, it’s in living technicolour with fucking surround sound.

Yoongi finishes getting dressed and stops by the kitchen for a coffee.

Mrs Gye, his housekeeper, smiles politely at him as she hands him his flask.

Yoongi thanks her, and is about to leave when he remembers.

‘Can you make some herbal tea for Mrs Min, please? She’s not feeling too well this morning.’

Mrs Gye nods, ‘of course, Mr Min.’

‘Don’t tell her I asked you to do it, just say you made some,’ Yoongi instructs.

Mrs Gye looks like she’s about to protest, but Yoongi’s already out the door into his waiting car.

***

You sigh with pleasure as you sip your herbal tea on your way into work.

Mrs Gye, your housekeeper, is truly a treasure.

She’d assured you that Yoongi hadn’t noticed anything different about his morning flask of coffee.

Yoongi’s a man of habit, so much so that he’s predictable in every way.

One of the cleaners had dropped his favourite flask and cracked it yesterday.

She’d been apologetic, but you’d been worried.

You know he’s got a big meeting with the board of his company today and you’d been determined not to let anything detract from his focus.

You’d driven to three places after work before you’d been able to find a replacement. You’d bought five, just to futureproof against any other flask mishaps.

Of course, all that driving around had made you late for dinner and Yoongi had been sure you’d been late on purpose.

You can’t blame him, it’s the sort of stunt you’d have pulled five years ago when you first got married.

You’ve changed but you’re pretty sure Yoongi sees you as still the same spoiled, immature heiress he’d been forced to marry, as the oldest son and heir to his family’s vast business empire.

Anyway, Yoongi’d been seething throughout dinner.

He’d spanked you until your ass was red raw.

You’d begged for more.

You stifle the delicious shiver that runs through you at the memory.

Your mood drops as you remember him accusing you of fucking other men.

Sure, you’d accused him of the same, but you’ve always been faithful to him.

You just don’t know if he’s been as faithful to you.

You’d heard the rumours about him and his breathtakingly beautiful and terrifyingly talented media director.

Park Gyuri was a model and actress before she went to grad school and earned an MBA. She waltzed into Yoongi’s family company, and she’s been doing a bang up job of everything since then.

She’s also the woman Yoongi was dating before he was forced to marry you.

You stopped seeking out the rumours because it became upsetting.

In your heart of hearts, you don’t think Yoongi’s any more in love with you than he was when you got married.

In truth, you wouldn’t blame him.

You’d spent years being the exact cold hearted bitch he’d eventually accused you of being.

You’re surprised it took him that long to finally snap.

***

Yoongi smiles at Gyuri as she walks into his office.

She’s beautifully put together as always, and she’s wearing green silk today, a shade that complements her colouring well.

‘Free for dinner tonight?’ she asks.

‘What’s the occasion?’ Yoongi asks.

‘Nothing, I just want to have dinner with my friend,’ Gyuri says, smiling affectionately at him.

There’s a pause before ‘friend’, so brief Yoongi knows anyone else probably wouldn’t have noticed it, but he did.

Yoongi would be lying if he said he’d never considered what his life would be like now if he hadn’t married you.

He’d probably be less annoyed on a day to day basis.

He’d probably still be a member of the country club you’d got him kicked out of.

He might be married to Gyuri instead.

He’s about to say yes when your face floats into his head. The look in your eyes when he’d accused you of being annoying, which is definitely true, and of fucking other men, which he doesn’t think is true.

Yoongi says, politely, ‘Rain check? I’d like to have dinner at home today.’

He’s been thinking about how you said you were sore, and he wants to check on you.

You’ll probably ignore him like you always do but he wants to see you’re all right for himself.

Also, he’s aware there’s an underlying frisson between him and Gyuri, and he doesn’t want to explore that just yet.

For once, Yoongi doesn’t linger in his office after everyone leaves. He picks up his bag and calls for his car and heads home.

When he reaches home, he walks into the kitchen. Mrs Gye is at the sink whilst something’s simmering on the stovetop. She startles when he sees him.

‘Ah, Mr Min, you’re back early.’

Yoongi murmurs something about working at home and hands her his flask. Then he stops, looking at another identical four flasks sitting to dry on the draining board by the sink.

Mrs Gye sees his line of vision.

‘Mrs Min bought them yesterday.’

Yoongi’s first thought is that you’re plotting something devious.

‘Where is Mrs Min?’ he asks.

‘She went up to her room.’

Yoongi doesn’t often go to your rooms, in fact he doesn’t think he’s visited you there this year at all.

He knocks on the door and there’s a muffled response.

‘I’m in bed, is it important, Mrs Gye?’

Yoongi says, ‘it’s me.’

He senses rather than hears your response. In moments you’re opening the door, pulling a robe tight around your waist.

Your hair is messy, your face devoid of makeup.

You look up at him self consciously.

Yoongi puts a hand on your arm. ‘Are you ok?’

You frown at him. ‘You didn’t kill me with your dick. I’m on my period.’

Yoongi bites back the laugh that threatens to erupt.

You ask, ‘would you like to come in?’

Yoongi follows you through your bedroom to your living area.

You pour both of you water and sit in your favourite chair, legs curling underneath you.

‘How are you doing, Yoongi?’ you ask, yawning.

‘Do you want to sleep with me?’ Yoongi asks, suddenly.

You choke on your water.

Yoongi waits until you’ve recovered enough to speak.

‘Right now? Jesus Yoongi I said I was on my period.’

Yoongi looks unperturbed. ‘I didn’t mean fuck, although if you’re down, I am. I meant sleep with me. Do you want to sleep in the same room?’

You stare at him.

‘Are we in danger?’

Yoongi stares at you.‘What? No, don’t be ridiculous.’

‘You can tell me, Yoongi, my family have security contacts everywhere.’

Yoongi massages his forehead. ‘No. Forget it. Just forget it.’

You get up hurriedly as he looks like he’s about to ditch you. ‘Yoongi!’

He stops.

‘You want to spend more time together?’ You ask, doubtful as to what he really meant.

‘We’re married,’ Yoongi points out, patient. ‘We’ll probably have kids eventually. Shouldn’t we try to get to know each other?’

You have a flashback, vivid, of Yoongi calling you a spoiled, stuck up bitch.

‘Yes. Let’s sleep together.’

Yoongi looks at you for a moment.

He holds out his hand.

With a sense of trepidation, you take it.

***

‘It’s weird not to be fucking,’ you say to Yoongi, pulling the covers up to your neck, looking around his room curiously.

‘It’s also 9pm. Why are you already in bed?’

You hop out and trip over a pair of Yoongi’s slippers, sprawling on the floor.

Yoongi looks at you, shirt half unbuttoned.

‘I’m tired,’ you say, crawling back into bed.

You pull the covers over your head.

A moment later you feel him sitting on the bed.

He pats over where your head is.

‘Come have dinner with me.’

‘Is that an euphemism for a blow job?’ you ask from under the covers.

You sit up suddenly and realise Yoongi’s sitting on the bed in his briefs.

You can feel heat rush to your face.

It’s not like you haven’t seen your husband naked before, hell, it’s not even been 24 hours since you last fucked.

But this is different.

This is intimacy when you’re more comfortable with fucking.

Yoongi’s watching the way your eyes rove over his thighs.

‘See something you like?’ he asks, coolly.

You scoff. ‘Of course I like the way you look, Min Yoongi.’

You get up. ‘Let’s eat.’

****

Yoongi eyes you over the soup you’re stirring.

‘Why did you buy so many flasks?’ he asks.

Your eyes snap to his. ‘How do you know that?’

‘I saw them.’

You shrug. ‘You like them. I want you to have replacements if one breaks.’

‘That’s thoughtful.’

‘Just being a dutiful wife,’ you chirrup cheerfully.

Yoongi stares at you like you’ve grown another head. ‘You are definitely not that.’

You nod in agreement. ‘You’re right.’

‘Are you feeling ok? You’ve barely touched your soup and you already tried to get into bed.’

‘I’m on my period,’ you tell him, again. You get up. ‘I’m going to go get some of my things and bring them to your room.’

‘It’s our room,’ Yoongi corrects, gently.

‘Our room,’ you repeat.

By the time you’ve finished gathering your things, Yoongi’s just got to his door.

‘After you,’ he says, strangely formal.

You shoot him a look and head to his huge dressing room.

‘You can use that side,’ he says, pointing.

The entire wall he’s pointing at is made up of bare clothes rails at varying heights.

You pull open a drawer, intending to deposit your toiletries and underwear in it, and stop when you see the packages inside it.

‘What’s this?’ you ask.

Yoongi walks over from his side of the dressing room.

Together you look at the boxes from a well-known underwear brand. It’s the same brand you tend to wear.

You look up at Yoongi, and to your surprise, the tips of his ears are red.

Your impatient, unsentimental husband actually looks… embarrassed.

You wait him out.

Finally, he mutters, ‘sometimes if I see something I like, I buy it for you.’

You can’t believe your ears.

‘Did you buy this for — someone else?’ you ask quietly.

Another thought occurs to you.

‘Did you buy this for yourself?’ you ask.

Yoongi groans, irritably.

‘I bought all this shit for you. My wife.’

He opens the top box and rifles through what looks like a beautiful red silk and lace teddy. You glimpse the tags. It’s your size.

‘I got this after that night when you wore that red dress to meet the Hans because you look fucking breathtaking in red.’

‘How do you know my size?’ you ask weakly, stalling to give your brain time to catch up.

‘Your size is the only fucking thing I do know about you,’ Yoongi says, still irritable. ‘How many times have I taken your lingerie off?’

You stare each other into an uneasy stalemate.

‘You really didn’t buy this for anyone else?’ you ask.

‘Believe me or don’t believe me,’ Yoongi says, at the end of his tether.

He stalks out of his dressing room, and you blink blindly at the stack of boxes in the drawer.

By the time you re-enter Yoongi’s bedroom, the lights are off and he’s a lump under the covers.

You climb in the other side and after a moment, scoot over to be closer to him.

He’s got his back to you, rigid, cold.

You put your hand on his shoulder to warn him, then kiss the back of his neck.

‘Thank you,’ you tell him.

You’re half- asleep by the time he turns onto his back. His hand brushes yours under the covers, not holding it but touching you.

‘You’re welcome,’ he says.

You curl your pinky finger around his, like a promise, and go to sleep.

***

When you wake up the next morning, Yoongi’s already gone.

His side of the bed is rumpled, and when you run your hand over the sheet it’s cold.

You need to think.

Even better, you need a third party to do your thinking for you.

You send your best friend Nara a text, then notice the time.

Shit. You need to get to work.

You hop out of bed, trip over Yoongi’s slippers again and scurry to your own room to get dressed.

Your morning is pretty dull, a bunch of meetings with clients, a team brief before your new product launch tonight.

Nara meets you for lunch.

Kim Nara has been your closest friend since junior tennis club. She has an impressively strong backhand, a competitive streak a mile wide and is the most loyal person you’ve ever met.

She pours you some wine from the bottle she started whilst waiting for you, then sits back in her seat.

‘What was so urgent you had to meet today?’ she asks.

Her eyes narrow. ‘Did Min Yoongi knock you up?’

‘What? No. I’m on my period right now,’ you protest.

You take a gulp of wine to fortify yourself.

‘But it does involve him.’

Nara takes a matching big sip. ‘Hit me.’

‘I think I should try to get him to forgive me.’

‘For what?’ Nara asks. There’s a mischievous light in her eyes now.

‘For buying Kim Seokjin instead of him at that bullshit charity auction? For sending that chain email to all his employees with his STI testing results? For getting him blacklisted from every golf course in the country?’

You cringe.

You’d been young when you married Yoongi, spoiled and impulsive and naive and terribly, terribly selfish.

Nara sucks in a breath to power what you know is going to be a litany of crimes. You’d write it all down if it wouldn’t kill you to read what an asshole you were to him.

You have no idea why he hasn’t divorced you.

You guess this is why he tries to break you every time you have sex.

Nara’s talking about the time you ran off to Switzerland for three months, but you tune her out.

You need to make all this up to Yoongi, a man who buys you gifts even when you’re barely talking, and who wants to be closer to you despite everything you’ve done to him.

You figure ten is a nice round number.

You’re going to do it.

You’re going to find the ten worst things you’ve done to Min Yoongi and make up for every single one of them.

***

‘I’m sorry, Mrs Min, Mr Kim says he can’t see you until his bodyguard gets here.’

You gape at the expressionless secretary who’s been dispatched to give you the news. He nods apologetically, then withdraws.

The nerve of Kim Seokjin.

Kim Seokjin is Yoongi’s best friend, and instrumental in your plan to make things right with Yoongi.

It looks like he’s going to make you work for it every step of the way. You’ve been waiting outside his office for ten minutes already, and there’s no end in sight.

The first attack you’d launched on Min Yoongi after you got married was at a charity fundraiser where there had been, to your devious delight, an auction.

Not just any auction. Seokjin and Yoongi had been part of it, and you’d very intentionally bid on Seokjin despite wearing the Min heirloom pendant around your neck.

You’d bid a ridiculous amount and won him, a record that was shattered not long after by the ‘purchase’ of a man with a rakish glint in his eye, Jungkook, you think his name was.

Even worse, you’d paid a horny elderly society lady, Mrs Kang, known for her constant innuendoes and wandering hands, to purchase your then new husband.

He’s never told you what happened on their date.

On your date with Seokjin you’d dressed so provocatively you were a quick move away from being arrested for public indecency.

To his credit, you hadn’t once caught Seokjin’s eyes wandering below your neck.

He’d spent the whole date scolding you on Yoongi’s behalf.

You’ve had other shenanigans with Seokjin, but the auction is the most scandalous one by far. You’re not surprised he doesn’t want to see you.

You glance at your watch and realise you’ve been waiting for over twenty minutes.

You get up to leave and you hear your name called in a deep voice that’s definitely not Seokjin’s.

It’s a man, around six feet tall, who looks the size of a refrigerator. He looks like he could break you in half and not break a sweat.

You’re escorted into Seokjin’s office.

‘Y/N,’ Seokjin says, formally, from behind his desk. ‘Have a seat.’

You aren’t sure if Seokjin realises that you practically grew up in boardrooms much more intimidating than this.

You sit behind his desk obediently.

‘I wanted to talk to you about Yoongi,’ you say, rushed, because you don’t know how much time you have.

Seokjin looks at you evenly. ‘I have no interest in discussing my best friend with you.’

‘We don’t have to discuss him. I just want to make up for all of the things I’ve done to him over the years.’

Seokjin raises an eyebrow. You’ve always found him intimidating, if you’re honest.

‘Anyway, can you convince him to put himself up for auction at the Rose Ball next month?’

‘Why?’ Seokjin snaps. ‘So you can humiliate him again?’

Your hackles rise at his tone, but you remind yourself of your end goal. You’re not sure you can make Yoongi cuddly but you think you might be able to make him like you.

‘I won’t humiliate him,’ you say, humbly.

Seokjin glares at you. ‘I need more assurance than your word, funnily enough.’

You like how loyal Seokjin is to Yoongi, but he’s sure being an ass right now.

‘I’ll pay you.’

Seokjin frowns. ‘Do I look like I need the money?’

‘I’ll cook dinner for Yoongi and you,’ you offer.

He snorts.

‘Can you even cook?’

‘Jesus what do you want Seokjin?’

You stand, and immediately his bodyguard takes a protective step forward.

You throw your hands up in exasperation.

‘Yoongi really wants to go to watch the Portland Trail Blazers when they’re in town next month. It’s right before the Rose Ball. Take him and I’ll get him to auction himself off at the Rose Ball.’

You put out a hand, forgetting about the bodyguard for a moment.

You pull it back quickly when he steps in front of Seokjin.

‘Deal,’ you call happily over the bodyguard’s shoulder.

‘Wait.’

Seokjin steps out from behind the human wall and holds out his hand.

You shake it.

‘Don’t fuck me or Yoongi over,’ Seokjin warns.

‘I won’t,’ you promise.

***

Yoongi’s already home when you get back after work.

He’s dressed in basketball shorts, a sweatband around his forehead.

‘You look hot,’ you say, absently, as you search through your drawer in his dressing room for a loose tee.

‘Here,’ Yoongi says. He tosses you a plain tee, one of his own.

You put it to your face and inhale.

‘It’s fresh,’ Yoongi says, dryly.

‘It smells like you,’ you say. ‘I like it.’

You step out of your work clothes and pull it over your head.

‘I’m going to bed.’

You pause before you leave the dressing room. ‘Hey, Yoongi. I got tickets to the Portland trail blazers game next month. Wanna go together?’

Yoongi gapes at you.

‘You didn’t seriously just ask me out to a basketball game with my favourite team whilst wearing my t-shirt and nothing else.’

You hadn’t been thinking about anything naughty but you snap to attention at his words.

‘Are you still on your period?’ Yoongi asks.

He’s already rounding the central island in the middle of his dressing room, where he keeps his watches and jewellery.

He’s heading straight for you.

You squeak and retreat to the bed.

He’s a second behind you, landing right on you before you can even yank up the covers.

‘Let’s make out,’ he says, voice husky.

‘Yeah,’ you agree.

His lips are almost on yours when you stop him.

‘Do you still want to make out even if we don’t—‘ you trail off, and Yoongi looks at you oddly.

‘Fuck?’ he supplies, helpfully.

You nod.

‘Are you serious? What do you think I am? Some sort of brute?’

‘We usually just skip to the fucking,’ you point out.

Yoongi stares at you for so long you think he’s had a stroke.

Then he leans over and kisses your forehead.

Your eyes closed automatically when his lips touched you, so it takes you a moment to realise he’s pulling away.

‘I’ll see you at dinner,’ he says.

He’s out the door before you get a chance to say goodbye.

***

You’re trying to pick something to wear to the game with Yoongi. You’re not really a fan of basketball, not like he is. Your only knowledge of basketball consists of what you’ve gleaned from pictures of celebrities courtside and what you’ve seen in movies.

Once you’re dressed, you run downstairs to where Yoongi’s waiting.

‘They’re not courtside,’ you say, apologetic, as Yoongi drives.

‘You’ve said that a few times,’ Yoongi says mildly, signalling to turn.

‘I just don’t want you to be disappointed,’ you say.

‘I won’t be,’ Yoongi says.

‘I don’t know anything about basketball,’ you tell him.

Yoongi looks at you with such disappointment it feels like you need to seek his forgiveness for yet another thing.

‘I’m calling the best divorce lawyer in town right after this,’ Yoongi says. ‘But first, let’s watch the game.’

‘What? You’re divorcing me over a —- sport?’

‘Not helping the cause,’ Yoongi retorts.

You want to pout but you’re pretty sure he’ll just get annoyed with you.

Yoongi drives into a multi-storey car park and backs into a space so sexily you get a little wet just watching him.

He even does that thing where he rests his arm against your seat, as though it’s a habit he can’t break even though his car has a rear camera.

You want to hold hands with him as you walk to the arena, but you rarely ever touch when you’re not fucking.

Yoongi says, without looking at you, ‘what is it now?’

‘This is kind of like a date,’ you observe.

Yoongi sighs.

He’s never really indulged your fondness for romantic gestures, you guess he’s always seen them as childish.

‘It’s a date,’ he confirms. He leads you to your seats as though he knows the arena well.

You look around curiously. The seats aren’t courtside, but you’re only a couple of rows back, and the view seems fine to you.

‘Is this ok?’ you ask.

‘They’re perfect seats. Stop asking me or I’ll kiss you and ruin your lip gloss.’

‘This is kiss proof, actually,’ you say, seriously.

Yoongi turns fully to look at you. ‘Is that an invitation for me to test it out?’

‘Let’s just see how the date goes,’ you say, leaning back in your seat.

You can feel his eyes on you. He scoffs, but he doesn’t sound annoyed.

The game is an exciting one, but you spend it mainly watching Yoongi. He’s pretty even-tempered most of the time, but watching basketball really seems to get his blood going.

He cheers so loudly and enthusiastically you’re almost deafened. Once the game gets going he barely even seems to notice you.

You’re glad he’s enjoying himself.

At half time, you get him to take a selfie with you to send to Seokjin as proof.

You’ve just sent it when he leans over and kisses you on the cheek, quickly.

You turn to him, but he’s already turned away.

You think about the feel of his lips on your cheek for the rest of the game, and somehow the second half flies by.

Yoongi’s so hyped by the time the game ends that you keep smiling at how endearing he is.

‘I feel like you need to talk about this to someone who knows about basketball,’ you remark as you walk back to your car.

He grins at you. ‘I might stop by Seokjin’s place.’

‘Ah sure,’ you say, a little crestfallen that he doesn’t want to go home with you.

You fiddle with your phone, realising you don’t even know where Seokjin lives. ‘Is home on your way?’

‘I’ll drop you off,’ he says.

You’re quiet on the drive home. Yoongi pulls into your driveway and shuts the engine off.

‘Hey,’ he says.

You turn to him.

‘Thanks for getting us tickets. And thanks for coming with me.’

You smile. ‘It was Seokjin’s idea,’ you demur. ‘See you later, Yoongi.’

You get out of the car and are walking to the front entrance of your home when you hear the car door close behind you.

There’s footsteps, and by the time you turn, Yoongi’s standing in front of you, barely two feet away.

‘Hey,’ he says again. ‘Can I get a kiss goodnight?’

You reach into your brain for a snappy remark but come up with nothing.

All you can do is look up at him as he leans over you and kisses you. His tongue flicks at the seam of your lips, once, and then he’s pulling away.

He smooths your hair back from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

The action makes your heart flutter helplessly in your chest. He rarely ever touches you like this.

Yoongi rubs his thumb over your bottom lip, gently.

‘I’ll see you later. I’ll try not to wake you up when I get in.’

He waits, engine idling, until you’re safely indoors before he drives off.

***

You’re nervous. It’s the night of the Rose Ball, and the charity auction where you’re going to orchestrate the first stage of making up with Yoongi.

You’ve picked a red dress because of what he said about you looking pretty in red.

Yoongi knocks on your bedroom door, because you’d wanted to get ready alone.

You open the door and take in the vision of your husband in a white dinner jacket, hair pushed back from his forehead and styled beautifully.

There are silver earrings glinting in his ears, and his hair is currently silver to match.

‘You look very handsome,’ you tell him, honest.

He holds out his arm. ‘I think you’re wearing red on purpose to fuck with me, aren’t you? Quick, say something annoying so the universe can tilt back to its normal axis.’

Gamely, you pout at him and whine, ‘why didn’t you get me any new jewellery to wear, Yoongi?’

‘I’ve got some pearls I can put around your neck,’ Yoongi suggests.

‘I’d rather you put them down my throat,’ you say, suggestively.

‘There’s my spoiled little horny heiress,’ Yoongi says, approvingly.

You roll your eyes. ‘I’m not spoiled.’

‘Try saying that in a less whiny tone,’ Yoongi tells you unsympathetically.

‘I’m not whiny.’

‘I hope you saved up some money to buy Kim Seokjin again tonight,’ Yoongi says.

You frown.

‘I’m gonna buy you, not Seokjin.’

He snorts. ‘I hope you’re not expecting me to buy you.’

You pause. This is an angle you hadn’t even considered.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow, but says nothing.

At the ball, you read through the list of names up for auction. To your annoyance, Seokjin, Yoongi and you are all one after another, clustered together.

You think it’s an attempt to capitalise on the scandal of the previous time Seokjin and Yoongi were up for auction.

You’re nervous all throughout dinner, and by the time the auction starts you’re vibrating with nerves.

Seokjin stands when his name is announced, nodding at the emcee. Across the table from you, you can feel Yoongi’s eyes burning into your head.

The bidding starts at a cool 5 million won, and rapidly escalates.

Seokjin, devastatingly handsome in a beautiful tux that emphasizes the broadness of his chest and shoulders, doesn’t even have the decency to pretend to be surprised.

You look at Yoongi and keep your hands perfectly still in your lap.

‘50 million won, do I hear 55?’

It’s a relief when the bidding closes at 75 million won. You don’t even see who the highest bidder is, concentrating on your husband sitting across from you.

When Yoongi’s name is announced, he stands and nods.

You think to yourself again how beautiful your husband looks.

You keep up with the bids easily. To your annoyance, the bidding is fast and furious, and it’s only moments before you’re holding at 90 million won.

‘Do I hear 95?’

‘100 million won.’

You turn, aghast, and look into the diabolical and devious eyes of Kim Seokjin.

Why the hell is Kim Seokjin driving up the bidding war on your husband?

Yoongi just looks amused when you stare at him, accusing.

‘110 million,’ you snap.

You try to stare the evil bastard down between bids.

By the time you get to 150 million won, you’re glaring daggers at Seokjin and Yoongi.

‘Sold to Mrs Min.’

There’s barely time to breathe a sigh of relief before you realise Yoongi and Seokjin are now patting each other on the back.

To your chagrin, they leave the room as your name is announced.

As the bids escalate on you, you pull your phone out and send Yoongi a rapid fire text.

Y/N: Buy me or I won’t fuck you tonight.

Yoongi, the bastard, makes you wait on read.

You’re dialling his number when you realise two things.

One, that the bidding’s somehow reached a hundred million won.

And two, that the main bidder is a very beautiful man whom you’ve never met.

‘Going once….’

You squirm in your seat as Yoongi and Seokjin walk back into the room.

If there’s any urgency in Yoongi at all that his wife is about to be sold to a random stranger, his face doesn’t show it.

You suppose this is exactly how he felt when you let Mrs Kang buy him.

‘Going twice to Mr Park Jimin.’

Yoongi lifts a brow, and his eyes snap to the beautiful man.

He nods to the auctioneer, and bidding resumes.

Park Jimin seems pretty determined, but he’s no match for your husband.

Yoongi buys you for a shade under two hundred million won.

***

You’re trying to unfasten your necklace whilst Yoongi gets changed after the ball.

‘Two hundred million won,’ you say, teasingly. ‘Guess I’ll need to put out.’

Yoongi grunts, and a moment later he says, ‘lift your hair.’

You pull your hair away from the back of your neck and he unfastens your necklace for you.

‘You don’t need to do anything you don’t want to,’ he says.

Later, in bed, you’re lying awake next to Yoongi, thinking about the night.

‘Yoongi,’ you whisper.

He sounds like he’s stifling a groan. ‘What?’

‘Thanks for buying me.’

It’s so dark you can’t see any of his features.

Eventually, he says, ‘there was never a possibility that I wouldn’t.’

‘What?’ you ask, surprised. ‘Say that again.’

‘Good night, Y/N.’

***

You think that one of the things that irritated Yoongi the most about you when you first got married was your total lack of interest in getting to know his friends.

And so part two of making up with Yoongi involves Kim Namjoon.

He’s an interesting man, from what you know of him.

Like Yoongi and Seokjin, he comes from a privileged background. Unlike Yoongi and Seokjin, though, he’s not in the family business. He runs an art gallery in the city with his partner, Nayeon.

You’re apprehensive about approaching Namjoon at the gallery but you can’t think of any other way to meet him.

Seokjin’s less icy to you since you took Yoongi to watch basketball and since the successful completion of step 1, but there’s no way he’d voluntarily help you.

You push open the glass door and decide to just walk around.

Unlike Seokjin, Namjoon doesn’t make you wait.

You’re barely in the cool comfort of the gallery before he’s standing next to you.

‘To what do I owe this pleasure?’ he asks, politely.

You search his expression for hints of sarcasm, but he seems perfectly sincere.

To be fair, you’ve never tried to provoke him like you did Seokjin.

You decide to be as direct as he is.

‘I was hoping to invite you and Nayeon for dinner at ours,’ you say.

He doesn’t answer straight away.

‘I haven’t really tried to get to know Yoongi’s friends, since we’ve been married,’ you say, pointing out the obvious. ‘I’m trying to remedy that.’

Namjoon gives you a long look.

You wonder what Yoongi’s been saying about you to his friends.

Judging by how wary all his friends are around you, you don’t think he’s been singing your praises.

You’re just about to speak again, when Namjoon says, ‘Yoongi often comes to ours on a Sunday night for dinner. I’m sure Nayeon would be really pleased if you could make it with him this Sunday.’

You smile, grateful. ‘I’d love that.’

Namjoon gives you another long look, then a dimple flashes in his cheek.

It transforms his face, which up until now had been rather stern and intimidating.

‘I’ll see you Sunday.’

***

Yoongi’s watching you polish off the last of the bread at dinner, bemused.

You figure now’s as good a time as any to tell him about how you’ve invited yourself to dinner on Sunday.

He takes it in his stride.

‘I’ll try not to embarrass you,’ you say, jokingly.

‘Like when you sent my sexual health test results to my entire company?’ asks Yoongi.

You look down at your plate.

Shit, another thing you need to atone for.

‘Sorry about that,’ you tell him, contrite.

‘It’s fine,’ Yoongi says, rolling his eyes. ‘I became a meme for a few months, I can cope with that.’

You put your hand on his arm. ‘I really am sorry. Want a blow job?’

Yoongi rolls his eyes again. ‘Are we so emotionally stunted we can only communicate through sex?’

His tone is cutting.

You’ve been so soft for him lately that there’s a pang of hurt in your chest.

‘You’re a lot more tolerable when you’re fucking me,’ you say, coldly.

‘Likewise, princess,’ Yoongi snaps.

You get up from the table and go to watch TV alone in your rooms.

By the time you go in to Yoongi’s bedroom, it’s dark.

You slide in next to him and turn away, back facing him.

You hear a sigh, then his hand pats the sheets, looking for yours.

You tuck your hands between your legs.

Yoongi’s hand travels down your arm, seeking your hand.

His thumb brushes over your clit, and you let out a surprised ‘oh’.

Yoongi shifts over, spooning you, chest pressing against your back.

‘Can I touch you, princess?’ he asks, voice low. ‘I’ve been thinking about how you pouted at dinner and I’m so fucking hard.’

‘I don’t want to cum for you,’ you tell him, petulant.

Yoongi nibbles at your neck, sharp teeth sending shocks of pain and pleasure through you.

‘I’ll make you cum anyway, princess. Get you grinding against my hand and crying my name. You always sound so pretty for me.’

‘Yoongi,’ you murmur, but your legs are already spreading to make room for him.

‘That’s my girl,’ he says, fingers slipping through your slick heat like he hadn’t expected anything less. ‘Let me fuck the spoilt brat out of you until only my baby’s left, hmm?’

Yoongi talks dirty to you until you’re creaming around his fingers, then his cock.

***

Yoongi looks up from his phone and gives you a quelling look.

‘Stop fidgeting.’

You hug the bottle of wine you’re bringing to Nayeon and Namjoon’s place to your chest.

‘Who else is going to be there?’ you ask.

‘Usually it’s Seokjin and me. Sometimes Gyuri comes.’

You think about that and wish, childishly, that you’d chosen a nicer outfit.

You realise Yoongi’s watching your face.

‘I appreciate you wanting to meet my friends,’ he says, carefully.

‘Oh it’s about time I made an effort, don’t you think?’

Yoongi gives you a long look and rings the doorbell.

You’re greeted by a relaxed-looking Nayeon.

You don’t know her well, but she’s always struck you as nice. You feel an odd pang as you see the affectionate way Yoongi greets her.

Here’s a whole other aspect of his life you’ve never been involved in.

You volunteer to help Namjoon cook the rice. To your bemusement, he’s frighteningly accident-prone.

Within five minutes, you’ve saved him from putting his hand on a hot pan twice. You shudder when you see him pick up a knife to chop vegetables.

Nayeon nudges you. ‘Don’t worry. He’s not too bad. Someone always keeps an eye on him.’

‘Like a toddler,’ you mutter, then you remember where you are.

Nayeon just laughs. ‘I think of it as he’s still getting used to his size.’

You laugh. ‘Let’s hope he doesn’t get any bigger then.’

You look up as Seokjin enters the kitchen with Yoongi.

Your eyes meet Seokjin’s. He nods coolly at you.

You smile back.

To your surprise, Yoongi claps a hand on Seokjin’s back.

‘Yah, Jin, greet my wife properly.’

Seokjin pulls Nayeon into a hug, then stops just in front of you.

You put out a hand for him to shake, and instead, he pulls you into a hug too.

You look up at him, a little wary.

‘Don’t you need your bodyguard?’ you ask, unable to resist.

Seokjin narrows his eyes at you. ‘I’m watching you, brat,’ he replies, so softly only you can hear.

‘And Yoongi’s watching you,’ you return, snarky.

Seokjin’s eyes darken. ‘Clearly Yoongi’s too soft on you, given your attitude.’

‘Break it up,’ Yoongi’s voice says from behind Seokjin.

You slide around Seokjin and stand next to Yoongi. When Yoongi turns to talk to Nayeon, you flip Seokjin the bird.

He glares daggers at you but has to quickly rearrange his expression when Yoongi and Nayeon ask him a question.

You’re so busy fielding all the interactions that it’s a relief to sit down to dinner.

Ah shit.

There are prawns in the broth, the one thing in the world you’re allergic to.

It’s your own fault. Early on in your marriage, for reasons known only to you, you’d decided to let Yoongi think you were a snob about seafood rather than just telling him you were allergic. Cue a very uncomfortable dinner when you’d refused to eat anything one of his chef friends had cooked.

Seokjin, next to you, looks at your untouched bowl pointedly. ‘Don’t you like it?’ he asks, voice so velvety it’s not immediately obvious he’s jeering at you.

You grit your teeth and pray the epi-pen in your bag is in date.

It’ll probably be fine, unless you have a whole prawn….

As if on cue, Yoongi hands you a prawn he’s just peeled.

You’d always thought Yoongi would be the death of you, but you’d thought the mechanism would be from hate fucking you into oblivion, or irritating you into apoplexy.

Not a fucking prawn that he’s peeled for you because he’s decided to be a solicitous husband for once in his life.

You can feel a few eyes on you.

‘Oh that looks delicious,’ you chirrup brightly. You accept the prawn, swallow it quickly, wait a beat, then excuse yourself.

You grab your bag on the way to the bathroom, fumbling for your epi-pen.

You jab it into your thigh just as the familiar tingling starts in your throat.

The door opens, and you’re faced with Yoongi, staring at you.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ he hisses.

He grabs the epi-pen you’ve just dropped on the floor.

‘Are you shooting up in my friends’ house?’ he snaps.

You shake your head, voice raspy.

‘I’m allergic to prawns.’

Yoongi stares at you like he can’t quite believe his ears.

‘What?’

You want to repeat yourself but your voice is getting hoarser.

Yoongi seems to click into action then. ‘Fuck. Do you need the hospital?’

You nod.

Moving faster than you’ve ever seen him, Yoongi grabs your arm and hustles you out of the bathroom.

He scolds you all the way to the hospital.

‘You’re an idiot, you know that? Why would you eat something you know you’re this allergic to?’

Two blocks away.

‘Why couldn’t you just tell me? Of all the stupid stunts you’ve pulled—‘

At the entrance of the emergency room.

‘If you die from this I’m going to follow you into the afterlife and kill you again.’

You’d snap back if he didn’t sound more worried than angry.

Yoongi sits beside your bed, filling in a form on a tablet with your details. You can see him typing in your name.

You grab his arm. ‘Not my name,’ you rasp.

Yoongi frowns at you. You fumble in your bag and pass him your driver’s license.

He looks at it for a long moment.

‘You changed your name? You said —-‘

He cuts himself off with visible effort. You can see a vein throbbing in his forehead.

He fills in the rest of the form, swearing softly under his breath.

You close your eyes and lose yourself to nightmares about prawns.

When you wake up, Yoongi’s sitting by your bed.

You say his name.

He runs a hand over his face. ‘How are you feeling, princess?’

‘I’m fine. Can we go home?’

‘They want to keep you in a little longer.’

You sigh.

‘Why didn’t you tell me you were allergic to prawns?’ Yoongi asks.

He sighs. ‘That time, with Mingyu, when he made us all that food. I thought you were being such a bitch.’

‘I am a bitch,’ you say. ‘I hated you back then. I hated our marriage and I hated that it felt like I didn’t have any choice in anything.’

‘And so you decide to die because I fucking peeled you a prawn?’

‘Why did you do that? You always say if you can’t peel a prawn you don’t deserve to eat it.’

‘Jesus fucking christ. I just wanted to.’

‘What a time to choose to be the doting husband,’ you say, regretfully.

Yoongi snorts with laughter. ‘Are you allergic to anything else I need to know about?’

‘Assholes,’ you mutter. ‘That’s why Seokjin and I don’t get along.’

Yoongi laughs again. ‘You’re such a rude brat. He won’t stop calling me. He wants to apologise for putting pressure on you to have the broth.’

‘Nayeon and Namjoon want to know if you’re ok, too.’

‘Tell them I’m fine.’

‘Here,’ Yoongi says. ‘I’ll add you to the group chat and you can tell them yourself.’

You send off a few texts and put your phone down.

‘I need to call my lawyer,’ Yoongi says, running a hand through his hair.

‘You’re divorcing me over a prawn allergy?’

‘No,’ says Yoongi, patient. ‘Now that I know your real name, I need to get it changed in my will and also on all the properties I’ve invested in for you.’

‘Ooh, I’m in your will?’ you ask, intrigued. ‘What do I get?’

‘None of your business,’ Yoongi says.

You wave a hand threateningly. ‘I could kill you right now and find out.’

Yoongi fends you off easily. ‘You should be resting.’

‘We could be arguing about this at home,’ you point out.

By the time you’re discharged from the hospital, it’s the early hours of the morning.

When you get home, you’re greeted by Mrs Gye.

‘I took care of it,’ she tells Yoongi.

Yoongi nods and thanks her.

‘Took care of what?’

‘Mr Min rang earlier and told us to get rid of all the prawns in the kitchen and pantry,’ Mrs Gye says. She’s apologetic. ‘We didn’t know you were allergic, Mrs Min.’

You glance at Yoongi, who’s slipping off his shoes.

‘You didn’t have to —‘

He cuts you off. ‘It’s a risk I’d prefer not to take again.’

He starts up the stairs, heading for his bedroom. ‘I’m going to try and get some sleep.’

You hurry after him, because he’s not waiting for you.

***

You’re coming out of your meeting with the manager of the third country club you got Yoongi blacklisted from when you spot a familiar face.

A familiar, beautiful but unwanted face.

‘Seokjin,’ you say, nodding politely.

He leans down, and automatically you present your cheek to him for a kiss.

‘How are you doing?’ he asks, courteously.

You narrow your eyes at him suspiciously. ‘I’m fine. And yourself?’

To your astonishment, he actually seems to be a little shamefaced as he says, ‘I’m sorry I urged you to have the broth at Namjoon and Nayeon’s the other day.’

‘It’s fine, you couldn’t have known,’ you say, neutrally.

‘What are you doing here?’

It’s your turn to look repentant.

‘I got Yoongi blacklisted from all the country clubs. I’m getting him re-invited to all of them.’

Seokjin’s gaze is penetrating.

‘You seem like you’re really trying to make amends,’ he observes.

‘Yeah well, I was, like you keep pointing out to me, a brat.’

He’s been walking with you to the lobby.

‘Can I offer you a lift anywhere?’ he asks.

‘Ah, I’ll just wait for a cab.’

He raises an eyebrow. ‘Doesn’t Yoongi have a driver?’

‘He does. I don’t.’

Seokjin nods to the car waiting for him. ‘Do you have other country clubs to go to?’

‘I have four left,’ you say.

Seokjin looks at you in firm way he does. ‘Come on. I’ll take you.’

You climb into the back seat with Seokjin.

‘You’re not taking me somewhere to murder me and dispose of my body, are you?’ you ask, only half-joking.

Seokjin settles back in his seat and loosens his tie.

‘I’ve got the afternoon off, and I’d prefer not to commit murder during it,’ he says, not reassuringly.

With Seokjin by your side, the next meeting is almost enjoyable. You even get offered champagne, which you gulp down.

Seokjin looks at you, amused. ‘Stressful day for you?’

‘You make me nervous,’ you admit.

‘I just don’t want Yoongi to be hurt anymore.’

You digest the idea that Yoongi wasn’t just inconvenienced and embarrassed, but actually hurt by your actions of the last few years.

That would imply he cared.

You’re staring out the window, thinking, when Seokjin says. ‘Of course, he didn’t want to marry you either, at the beginning.’

You chew on your lip.

‘But he was willing to make his best effort to be a good husband to you. He’s decent like that.’

You turn your head so Seokjin can’t see your face.

He’s not wrong. Yoongi’s never once retaliated for anything you’ve done to him.

Instead he’d grown progressively more cold and impatient and distant.

The wave of guilt surprises you with its depth.

‘I’ll make it up to him,’ you say, quietly.

Seokjin puts his hand on your arm so you’ll look at him.

‘He has a real soft spot for you,’ he tells you. ‘God knows why, I would have punished you long ago.’

You flick your eyes up at him. ‘Luckily I married a more forgiving man than you,’ you say, summoning your haughtiest tone.

Seokjin just laughs. ‘We both want the best for him,’ he says. ‘Maybe you’re not such a cold hearted bitch after all.’

‘Don’t get ahead of yourself. We aren’t friends,’ you sneer, out of habit.

Seokjin turns away and laughs quietly to himself.

At your next meeting, Seokjin gets whiskey served to you.

You’re a total lightweight, and with your empty stomach, you know you’re heading to a danger zone.

But damn, it’s also intoxicating having polished, suave Seokjin by your side at these meetings with older men.

It’s after your final meeting, three drinks later, that Seokjin says, ‘dinner?’

You hold on to his arm to steady yourself.

‘Maybe we can have dinner at mine,’ you suggest.

‘Great idea,’ Seokjin beams. ‘I love Mrs Gye’s cooking.’

You never actually make it inside the house.

Yoongi finds you and Seokjin sprawled on the front steps, arguing about which country club offered the best membership package.

You slap a brochure onto the steps between you.

‘This was clearly the best deal,’ you announce. You squint but it doesn’t make the words any clearer.

Seokjin sweeps the brochure away dramatically.

‘Wasn’t.’

‘Wassss.’

Yoongi says, dryly, ‘why do people who can’t handle their alcohol go drinking?’

Both you and Seokjin glare at each other, then at him.

Yoongi sighs. ‘I can’t carry both of you at once.’

‘Take the asshole first,’ you snap.

Seokjin leans towards you menacingly. ‘What did you call me?’

Yoongi hurriedly lifts you up under the arms, and you curl into his chest.

‘Take me to bed, Yoongi,’ you say, looking up at him.

‘You’re heavier than you look,’ Yoongi grunts.

‘It’s my brain,’ you say, trying be helpful.

Seokjin snorts rudely behind you.

Yoongi says, voice low, rumbling in his chest, ‘ignore him.’

You press a kiss to Yoongi’s chest. ‘Sorry I’m so heavy.’

He smiles at you with that looks like affection.

‘It’s fine. I’ll just drop you if it’s too much for me.’

Yoongi helps you into bed and unzips your dress.

‘Can you do the rest so I can get Seokjin?’ he asks.

You nod, convincingly. You’re still trying to tug your arm out of the sleeve when you give up and pass out.

Yoongi helps Seokjin into your bed and returns to his room to find you sprawled exactly where he left you, half undressed.

He slips your dress off you. You crack an eye open.

‘Yoongi,’ you say, whiny.

Yoongi replies, ‘yes?’

‘I just want you to like me,’ you say. For a moment you look completely lucid, and sad.

His heart gives a dangerous jolt then, like somehow, you’ve worked your way into it. Like a household pest.

Yoongi can’t bear the thought of exterminating you.

‘Stop being so annoying then,’ Yoongi says, trying to be stern but it comes out weak. He’s not even convincing himself at this point.

You put your hand over your heart. ‘I’ll try my best,’ you promise.

***

At breakfast, Yoongi frowns at his phone.

‘Why am I getting invited to become a member of every country club in the vicinity?’

Seokjin, dressed in Yoongi’s clothes, mumbles something unintelligible into his cereal.

You look up from your pancakes and through your sunglasses at your husband.

‘I got you blacklisted from every single country club in the area when we first got married, so I spent yesterday getting you reinvited.’

You point your fork at Seokjin and say, grudgingly, ‘Seokjin helped.’

Seokjin sips his juice.

‘Why did we drink so much?’ he asks.

‘You’re the one that kept asking for drinks,’ you point out.

Yoongi holds up a hand between you to break you up.

‘Why?’ he asks.

‘I’m making up for being awful to you,’ you tell him.

Yoongi frowns. ‘Is that why you’ve been so erratic lately?’

You’re offended. ‘I’m not erratic.’

‘Taking me to that basketball game? Buying me at the auction? Dinner at Namjoon and Nayeon’s?’ Yoongi asks.

‘Riding you in the shower yesterday,’ you add.

Seokjin covers his ears.

‘I’m being nice,’ you say.

Yoongi says, ‘I appreciate your efforts, but you don’t have to make anything up to me.’

‘She does,’ Seokjin interjects.

You toss a pancake at him.

Yoongi rolls his eyes.

‘We’ll talk later,’ he says to you.

‘I don’t know why he’s still here,’ you say to Yoongi, like Seokjin’s not in the room.

Yoongi pushes your coffee towards you. ‘Drink. Finish your breakfast. Seokjin and I have a meeting to get to. Let’s talk later.’

‘I have a surprise for you tonight,’ you say, remembering.

Yoongi leans down to kiss your cheek.

‘I don’t like surprises.’

‘You’ll like this one,’ you promise.

***

You once sent a troupe of strippers to put on a show at an important business meeting Yoongi had organised with a notoriously conservative client.

The deal had fallen through despite months of preparation and expense.

It was then that Yoongi had finally snapped and called you a cold hearted bitch for the first time.

You’d thought long and hard about how to make this up to him, and you don’t know enough about his company to source an equivalent deal.

You’re hoping dancing for him in the red teddy he got you will help.

You’re not a bad dancer, and you’ve been taking lessons for weeks, enough that you’re pretty confident you can pull it off.

You’ve hired a room in an underground sex club, hoping the gritty feel will add to the thrill of it.

Yoongi raises his eyebrows when you lead him through the private entrance off the street, down a flight of stairs, to a darkened corridor.

You lift the keycard out of your thigh-high stockings and unlock the door.

You’d shared a bottle of wine at dinner, and you’re feeling good.

There’s a chair in the middle of the room, like you’d specified. The lights are off apart from a blue glow. It’s dark enough to lend a sense of intimacy, but light enough that you can see Yoongi’s gorgeous face clearly.

God, your husband looks beautiful tonight, all in black, his lips stained from the wine.

He leans back on the chair, legs spread, watching you.

The one thing you’ve always liked about Yoongi that he knows when to keep his mouth shut.

His lips part as you turn in front of him and unzip your dress. It puddles on the floor in a shimmering heap.

You hit play on the music and start dancing.

Yoongi’s gaze focuses intensely on you as you dance for him. You put your legs on his thighs, pushing them apart to make space for yourself as you shimmy between them.

Your ass brushes his crotch, deliberately, lingering longer and longer with each pass until you’re grinding against him.

Yoongi, like a seasoned strip club connoisseur, keeps his hands to himself, braced on his thighs.

You turn so you’re facing him, leaning forward to encourage him to look down the top of your silky teddy. Your nipples are stiff, pushing against the silk, and you put two fingers in his mouth.

He needs no prompting, sucking on your fingers, tongue delving between them suggestively.

You put a hand on his shoulder and run your wet fingers over your nipples.

Yoongi grunts, eyes fixed on your tits.

You slide your hand down between your legs and lean over him to whisper in his ear.

‘I’m imagining your fingers here, Yoongi,’ you purr, gratified by how you can see his skin prickling with goosebumps.

Yoongi licks his lips. His voice, when it comes out, is so deep you’re wet just listening to him.

‘You know you really fuck me off sometimes,’ he says.

For the first time since you started dancing for him, you falter.

You look at him uncertainly.

His hand comes out, landing on your silk-covered hip, long fingers splaying over your ass.

‘I think it’s your face,’ he muses, almost like he’s talking to himself. ‘Your face is so fucking bratty I want to shove my dick in your mouth just to shut you up.’

He pulls you down so you’re sitting in his lap, straddling him.

He cups your jaw, pulling your face closer to his. His thumb traces over your bottom lip, teasing at the seam of your lips until your lips part enough for him to slip his thumb in.

Automatically, you suck.

‘There,’ Yoongi says. ‘You always look so pretty with me in your mouth.’

You can’t help yourself. You whimper around his thumb.

‘I like this even more though,’ he says.

Eyes on you, he moves his hand down your hip, cupping you between your legs, parted on his lap.

Like this, you’re spread out on top of him.

Yoongi hisses as he feels how slick you are. He teases at your clit, one finger slipping into you.

You say his name. God, he feels good.

He curls his finger, and you whimper again.

‘Your little pussy knows it belongs to me,’ he says, almost conversational, as he strokes your clit.

He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your breast as he fingers you, tongue laving the red silk.

You slip a strap down your shoulder so your breast is exposed, nipple taut for him.

‘Do it properly, Yoongi,’ you whine.

Yoongi laughs darkly. ‘Where’s your manners, baby?’

Your mouth snaps closed, lips thinning into a straight line. Your eyes flash at him.

Yoongi’s looking at you.

‘There you are,’ he says, but oddly, there’s affection in his voice.

He tilts his head to slant his mouth over yours in a slow kiss at the same time his fingers start scissoring inside you.

He smells so good. He pulls away and leans his forehead against yours.

‘I kiss you all the time, brat, how could you say we skip straight to the fucking?’

You’re hazy with pleasure, his fingers haven’t stopped moving inside you, and he always seems to go unerringly to the spot that makes you cry out his name and beg for more.

You’re begging now.

‘Yoongi,’ you moan.

‘Who fucks you like this, brat?’ he hisses.

‘You,’ you answer, ‘please, Yoongi.’

‘That’s right,’ he says. ‘That’s fucking right.’

You’re grinding against his hand now, each movement making you flutter around his fingers. You’re so close you can taste it, chasing your high.

Yoongi pulls his fingers out, and you cry out.

‘Yoongi!’

‘Cum on my cock, let me feel you.’

You fumble with the zipper on his pants, and he hisses as you draw him out.

He grabs your hips and sinks you down onto his cock.

Fuck, he’s so thick and hot you could cum even if he stayed perfectly still.

Yoongi shudders. ‘Fuck. Fuck. Feel me, baby? You get me so hard for you it hurts.’

Your eyes are squeezed shut, concentrating on the feel of him.

‘So fucking tight for me, shit.’

You’re already starting to tighten around his cock when he slaps your thigh. ‘Go on, this is what you wanted isn’t it? Fucking take it, baby.’

His voice is low, slurred, pupils blown all the way.

He’s rude as fuck, and you’re about to cum your brains out thinking about it.

Only Min Yoongi could do this to you.

He knows it. His breathing is ragged, but he somehow has the presence of mind to say, ‘fuck. Does my baby want tenderness too?’

His lips press against yours, he slides his tongue into your mouth, and he cradles the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair.

‘Fucking cum for me,’ he murmurs.

You slam your hips against his again, and finally, finally, you cum.

You curl into his chest, and he’s there, mouth on your hair.

‘You did so well,’ he tells you. ‘Waving that ass in the air for me, shit. Wearing this. You’re gonna need to do this again.’

‘I want to be good for you,’ you say.

Yoongi tilts your face so you’ll look at him.

‘Why? I’m a cold bastard most of the time.’

‘You have a nice cock,’ you offer.

Yoongi laughs. ‘You can have my cock anytime. It’s all yours.’

‘Oh are we exclusive now?’ you tease.

‘I’m wearing your ring around my finger,’ Yoongi reminds you, showing you his hand.

You tilt your head, pretending to think about it.

‘I’ll get you another ring to put around your cock.’

Yoongi grins and slaps your ass, gently. ‘Come on, get dressed. I want to get into bed with you. It’s my favourite part of the day.’

You want to ask if he really means that, but he’s already opening the door.

***

Yoongi looks pretty sexy when he’s concentrating, you decide.

You’ve graduated from sleeping together to also spending time together in his study sometimes in the evenings.

You’re trying to concentrate on reading a brief your social media manager prepared for you, but really your husband who isn’t doing anything other than frowning at his work, is distracting you.

Yoongi glances at you. ‘Need help with anything?’

You hum.

He walks around his desk to stand next to you.

‘What are you working on?’

You show him your brief. ‘Just prepping for a meeting tomorrow.’

Yoongi looks like he’s concentrating again, reading over your shoulder.

‘I’ve got it, Yoongi,’ you tell him.

He glances at you.

‘I didn’t say you didn’t.’

You try to ignore the flare of irritation as Yoongi walks back to his desk.

You know Yoongi has a sharp intellect and great business instincts. He’s earned every bit of his impressive reputation.

You’d be a fool to turn down his help.

Maybe you are a fool. But you don’t want him to see you as the impulsive devil-may-care hellion he married. You want to show him that you, too, have earned your right for respect in your role.

You chew on that for a bit, and finally, sighing, give up and go to bed.

You guess it’s going to take a bit longer to change Yoongi’s perception of you.

***

You got up to a lot of shenanigans on your honeymoon with Yoongi.

You were drunk for a lot of it, so you don’t remember much, but the bits you do remember are all bad.

You’d started drinking on the plane and spent the first night throwing up in the hotel bathroom.

And the second. Possibly the third.

You’d straight up disappeared after breakfast one day and had spent a day wandering the city on your own.

You’d also refused to sleep with him, claiming you were being treated for gonorrhoea. You’d accused him of giving it to you, which was how you’d ended up getting your hands on his test results to send to his company.

At least this is an easy thing to make up to Yoongi.

You couldn’t possibly make it a worse experience.

You’ve organised a weekend away with him, in a rustic little cabin by the lakes.

It works on many levels. The cabin’s a fair drive away, which means you get to watch your husband drive sexily. You think Yoongi likes nature, and you envisage doing a bit of paddling, maybe some fishing.

Also, the isolation of the cabin means you won’t get any noise complaints, important because you intend on fucking Yoongi constantly this weekend.

You’re still congratulating yourself on your genius when Yoongi wakes up the morning you’re due to leave.

You’ve been awake for hours.

The smile you turn on him is so bright he grimaces.

Ah. You keep forgetting he’s not a morning person. Also you have no idea what time he got in last night.

You scurry out of bed to grab him a coffee and promptly trip over his slippers.

Yoongi swears behind you. ‘Why do you keep falling over my slippers? They’re in the same place every time.’

‘Maybe you shouldn’t leave them there,’ you retort, hurt.

Then you remember you’re on your best behaviour.

You bite your tongue and go to grab him a coffee.

When you get back, he’s on his back, staring at the ceiling.

‘Got you coffee,’ you say, holding out his mug.

He accepts with a gravelly ‘thanks.’

You’re brushing your teeth when he says, ‘there’s been a supply problem with the new line we’re launching. I may need to spend time this weekend on the phone.’

‘That’s fine,’ you say, brightly. You’re determined not to let anything mar your new honeymoon weekend.

Yoongi says, gently, ‘is there any way we could reschedule?’

You stare at him. ‘Do you not want to go?’

The words are out before you get a chance to think them over. You could kick yourself at the neediness in your tone.

Yoongi says, ‘of course I want to go, I just don’t want you to be disappointed.’

You’re starting to wonder if he’s trying to tell you he doesn’t want to go.

‘I won’t be disappointed,’ you say, watching his face carefully.

Yoongi smiles at you. ‘Then let’s set off after breakfast.’

Yoongi’s quiet as he’s driving, and you notice how tired he looks. You’re just about to suggest he pulls over to let you drive when he says, ‘something on my face?’

‘You look tired,’ you say.

‘I am tired,’ he tells you. He smiles at you, faintly. ‘This upcoming collaboration with Novatech will be the biggest, most high-stakes project I’ve started since I took over from my father. I can’t afford for it to fail.’

‘Why would it fail?’ you ask.

‘There are a lot of moving parts,’ Yoongi says, vaguely.

‘I’m sure it’ll be a roaring success,’ you say, faith firmly in your capable, successful husband.

Yoongi says, ‘just don’t try to sabotage me.’

You say, earnestly, ‘those days are behind me.’

‘It’s a shame,’ Yoongi says, ‘I’m going to miss spanking you for misbehaving.’

That reminds you.

‘You can spank me anytime,’ you tell Yoongi. ‘Also, check out these new panties I bought.’

Yoongi glances at you and nearly swerves off the road.

‘Are you wearing crotchless panties?’ he asks, and he looks intrigued and flustered all at once.

‘It’s called an ouvert,’ you explain. ‘That’s French for open.’

Yoongi mutters something to himself you don’t quite catch.

‘What did you say?’ you ask, sweet as pie.

‘I said, your fucking pussy is going to kill me,’ Yoongi says.

He gives you a half smile, lazy, devastating.

‘I can’t think of a better way to go.’

***

Yoongi’s phone rings the moment you step into the cabin.

You wonder if you should have plumped for somewhere more rustic with no cell reception.

You unpack half-heartedly, watching from the window as he paces around outside the cabin.

He rubs a hand over his forehead, looking more stressed and tired than you’ve ever seen him.

Maybe he’s been stressed like this before but you haven’t been paying attention.

You come out to bring him a glass of water.

He smiles at you, still on his phone.

You flash him your ass and glance back to see if he’s watching.

He isn’t.

When Yoongi’s done on the phone you grab him.

‘Want to go for a walk? I’ll protect you from the wolves.’

‘I am the wolf,’ Yoongi says, but it’s half hearted.

‘Hey, why don’t you take a break. I’ll rub your back.’

Yoongi perks up at your suggestion, and it’s the most animated you’ve seen him all day.

You get him to lay on the bed just in his briefs.

You wonder if you’ll ever get used to how beautiful his body is.

You put your hands on his shoulders and knead, and his deep groan makes you feel good in so many ways.

You can feel Yoongi’s muscles relax as you massage over his shoulders and down his back. When you get to his legs he twitches a little like he’s falling asleep.

By the time you get to his feet he’s dead asleep.

You cover him with a blanket and a kiss and head out for a walk.

When you get back he’s still asleep, so you make a space for yourself next to him and join him.

You’re awakened by Yoongi’s hand on your shoulder.

‘Hey, I made dinner for us.’

You blink, disoriented. ‘What time is it?’

‘It’s late. Come on. We’ll sleep better when we’re full.’

Yoongi’s made ram-don. You sigh happily as you sit down in front of the steaming bowl. Instead of sitting across from you, Yoongi slides in next to you.

His thigh nudges yours. He puts his free hand on your thigh.

You look at him curiously.

Yoongi says, ‘eat.’

The noodles are delicious, but you find you’re enjoying Yoongi’s hand on your thigh just as much.

You put your hand on his, and smile at him as he knits your fingers together.

It’s sweet, and silly, and something you wouldn’t expect from your normally brisk, impatient husband.

Yoongi watches you finish your noodles, enjoying the warmth of your thigh and hand. He shifts a little, because he’s quite sure he shouldn’t have a raging hard-on from doing something as innocent as holding your hand.

You’re smiling at him so happily. If Yoongi’d known that holding your hand would be enough to make you smile like that he’d have tried to hold hands with you this whole time.

You’re finished with your late dinner. Yoongi stops you when you get up to start clearing up.

‘Let me do it. Why don’t we watch a movie? You set it up and I’ll clear up here.’

By the time Yoongi finishes clearing up, you’re ensconced on the couch, so covered in blankets he can barely see you. The lights are low, the TV on playing some movie Yoongi knows he’s not going to get into.

He’d rather watch you.

He slides in next to you and holds out his arm.

You look at him like you’ve never been invited to snuggle before.

To be fair, Yoongi doesn’t think you’ve ever done this together.

He lowers his arm like he’s changed his mind, and you’re next to him so quickly he has to bite back a smile.

You rest your head in the curve between his neck and shoulder, cheek on his chest.

Your hand flutters over his torso, finally landing on his stomach. You turn in, nose against his chest, breathing him in.

It’s adorable. You’re adorable.

Yoongi wants to fight dragons for you.

He leans down and sniffs your hair as quietly as he can.

Your breathing is easy, slow, and Yoongi realises you’ve fallen asleep when you go boneless in his arms.

He wonders if you know how much he’s prepared to do for you if you ever asked.

Part 2

3K notes · View notes

agusfree · 1 year ago

Text

Eunoia // Ch. 25

eunoia (noun): beautiful thinking, the possession of a well-balanced mind, which exhibits goodwill and kindness

Pairings: Hybrid! BTS x reader

Summary: You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job.You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognision, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness isn’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?

Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, eventual smut

Word Count: 9.2k+

Warnings: past abuse, past sexual abuse, cursing, past violence, mentions of blood, panic attacks

Masterlist

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24

The taglist is now closed.

Trained in waking up early and pulling all-nighters because of filming, you were used to witnessing the sun rise. Usually, you didn’t pay it much attention. The sun rose every day and you had other more important things to do than watch it go through the same motions. You were rushing to leave, making coffee and answering texts on your phone or you were too tired to do anything other than go straight to bed and close the blinds.

You had forgotten how beautiful it was, how the quiet of the early morning glowed in soft orange. Only you and Seokjin were awake, snuggled up on the large white couch on the balcony on the main floor. Your feet were laying on his lap and his arm was wrapped around your waist.

You had woken up early, fading images of the red ballroom and empty eyes haunted your sleep as much as you tried to bury them during the day. Thankfully, Jimin hadn’t been there when you had woken up, drenched in sweat and grasping wildly at the sheets to remind yourself that you were at the Castle. That it had been more than a week since you had been in that ballroom.

It would go away. It had to. It was over. Nothing happened to you. You would get over it.

You got up, stretched your sore muscles from all the walking the previous day and put on some music to take your mind off the long green dress and paddle numbers, and started your day. No one else was supposed to be awake so early in the morning but when you went to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of coffee, Seokjin was already there, mixing pancake batter with a large wooden spoon.

Putting your arms around him, you had watched him work until he sent you away, claiming that you were distracting him. It wasn’t your fault that his neck looked in desperate need of kissing and that your mouth had trailed downwards subconsciously. Since you weren’t wanted in the kitchen, you went outside to the balcony to savor the sharp air before the sun appeared on the horizon.

Seokjin joined you soon with two cups of coffee. “It feels like a mug of hot coffee would be more appropriate, but the weather’s too hot,” you had joked.

He had made your favorite iced coffee in the way too-expensive coffee machine you had purchased when you first got the house. Another one of your impulsive purchases. But it was worth it. It made some of the best coffee you had ever tasted. The only coffee above that was made by a small coffee shop nestled in a quiet alleyway in Paris. The perfect amount of milk and sugar, not too sweet and not too bitter.

You were both a little tired from your little trip to the lake. A sweet kind of pull in your chest, not easily noticeable. You had returned as the sky grew darker and had ordered takeout for dinner, which you enjoyed spread around the garden. Surprisingly, almost everything in the baskets had been devoured during your time at the lake. Alice had been reluctant to leave but you had promised her that she was welcome to visit you again soon. She had hugged each of you tightly—even Yoongi, who didn’t seem to mind at all—and promised that she would be back to play more.

“She’s a little hurricane,” Seokjin said. He was glowing with the sunrise stroking his face. “She reminds me of you a little. Was that what you were like when you were little?”

“I was never that cute,” you joked. Your aunt would argue but while Alice was a hurricane, sweeping up everyone in her way and winning them over, you had been a nightmare, difficult to handle, not listening to anyone, and independent to a fault. “Or that social. I would like to believe that I contributed a little to the shaping of her personality but honestly, her parents are both amazing. They raised her really well and she was already incredible to begin with. She will become a much better person than me.”

He looked down at your legs resting on his lap. “That will be hard. You are probably the best person I know.” He shrugged as if what he said didn’t matter, as if it didn’t make flowers bloom in your chest.

You caressed his cheek, prompting him to look at you. “That might be a little worrying but thank you. You are one of the best people I know too. Shhhh,” you quieted down his protests. “If you can say that about me, I can say that about you.”

“I haven’t done anything special. Nothing like you. You-”

“Stop that.” You laid two fingers on his lips and he obediently stilled them under your touch. “First, you don’t have to do anything special. Who defines special either way? Some of the kindest, most loyal, amazing people I know show these qualities in small ways, that doesn’t make them any less special. Second, who says you didn’t do anything special? Who was there for Jungkook when he distanced himself from everyone else? Who cooks for us every day and takes care of us? Who is always trying to cheer us up when someone is feeling down? Who-?”

“Enough, enough,” he interrupted you, shaking his head. His human ear and cheeks were stark red at all the praise. “I know I’m amazing, that’s enough.”

You laughed and captured his lips in a kiss. Warmth, more comforting than what the sun could provide, filled your insides as you tangled your fingers in his soft hair. He opened his lips for you and you slowly explored the inside of his mouth. You had always enjoyed kissing but nothing compared to the kisses you had shared with your hybrids the past few months.

Lazy mornings were rare for you. There was always one reason or another to be running around the house in a hurry to leave or lock yourself in your office. You were hostage to an endless need to always be productive. That’s what mornings were for. Maybe you had been completely wrong because this one was one of the best mornings you had ever experienced.

Seokjin heard the footsteps on the stairs before you did, turning his head around to watch Jungkook, Jimin, and Namjoon climb up. You called for them and Jungkook and Jimin ran to you, squeezing themselves between you. Namjoon followed laughing and sat down next to Seokjin, throwing an arm around his shoulders.

Hoseok, Yoongi, and Taehyung appeared soon and Seokjin left to go plate the breakfast and bring it to the balcony. You didn’t eat on the balcony often, mostly because of the low table that made it a little uncomfortable, but no one wanted to move. Jungkook and Namjoon went with Seokjin inside to help but when you moved to do the same, Jimin wrapped his arms around your waist tightly and wouldn’t let you go.

“No, you are staying with me!” he exclaimed and proceeded to bury his face in your belly, purring.

Hoseok looked at you in amusement and you shrugged your shoulders, used to Jimin’s antics by now. The three of them took one of the other two couches while the five of you remained squeezed in one. Yoongi looked adorably rumpled from sleep, messy hair and heavy eyes, the stark opposite of Hoseok, who was wide awake and energetic as usual. Taehyung wasn’t the statue he was the first few days but he remained perfectly kept and quiet.

You filled your plate with three pancakes and your favorite toppings and dug in. The conversation returned to your trip to the lake.

“When can we go again?” Jungkook asked, chewing his pancakes with passion.

You cut another piece of your pancakes. “You can go whenever you want, it isn’t that far from the house.”

He pouted. “I meant all of us together.”

“That’s… a little harder,” you said. “I’m back at work next week and I have a full schedule. You can go together though. John and Alice could join you even if I’m not there.”

Jungkook’s bottom lip stuck out even further. “It isn’t the same without you.”

“If there is a day I finish work early, I might join you.” You could barely drag your feet back home most days after work and the trek to the lake would feel like hell, but you would try for them.

Namjoon seemed to know exactly what you were thinking. “You are too tired after work for that. After working for so many hours we can’t expect you to trek down to the lake. You come back after the sun has set or just as it’s setting, it would be exhausting for you to walk for half an hour down to the lake in the dark and then in an hour or so walk back again.”

You wanted to protest but you knew he was right. Although your work wasn’t physically demanding, you spent long hours on your feet, instructing the actors and the crew and checking in with different departments. By the time you were home even dragging your feet to the garden for dinner was a struggle.

You reached for Jungkook’s hand, rubbing your thumb in circles to soothe him. “We’ll figure something out, yeah? If I take a day off–When I take a day off,” you corrected yourself, “we can do something fun. We could go to the lake or we could do something else. Los Angeles is full of places to visit and activities to try.”

Jungkook seemed to think about it for a few seconds before perking up and asking if you could visit a gallery he had seen on the internet. You were quick to agree as Jimin joined as well, asking you about all the places he wanted to visit. You had told them before that they were free to go out without you anywhere they liked, you had printed their papers just in case so they could have them in case the Hybrid Services asked any questions, but they had yet to step further than the Castle grounds and the forest alone. John could also accompany them but no one had taken you up to your offer.

As you were finishing breakfast your phone started ringing. One of the producers of Six of Crows was calling.

“Sorry, I have to take this one,” you said, answering the call.

You ended up having to go down to your office to look up some files on your computer. As the premiere date approached, you would be getting more calls like this. Post-production was finished by now and the movie was nearly ready to be shown on the big screen but there were still a few tiny details that needed fine-tuning.

Ending the call, you checked your emails since you were already in front of your computer. You would probably go to the studios later in the day to speak with a few members of your team on the Raven Cycle project. You wouldn’t stay long but it meant that you had to schedule your day around it. Your break hadn’t ended yet you were already overwhelmed with work. Your to-do list stretched on and on, seemingly endless.

Your back and neck were getting stiff because of all the sitting and lounging around. You should start doing some exercises again. During your break, you had only been to the gym once and it was only two floors down. You should get back into the habit but you were great at finding excuses not to go. You were too busy, too tired, too preoccupied.

There was a knock on the door. You looked at the time at the bottom right corner of your computer screen and realized it was four hours later.

“Come in,” you called. You rolled your neck and heard the little pops. You desperately needed some exercise. And a massage. And an improved posture probably.

Hoseok opened the door with his elbow as he carried a tray inside your office. “I come bearing gifts,” he said with a wide heart-shaped smile. It was like the room instantly brightened. If the sun was personified, it would be Hoseok.

“What have you brought me?” you asked, making space on your desk for the tray. You had to look through some of your old files and they covered most of the surface. You stacked them into piles quickly, to be organized properly at a later time.

“Jin made fruit salad and we have some leftover muffins from yesterday. Jungkook made the juice, it’s banana and cherry!”

The fruit salad was a mix of mango, strawberries, watermelon, blackberries, peaches, and berries. A vanilla muffin was next to it and a tall glass of juice. “Everything looks delicious. Thank you.”

You moved to grab the fork and winced when you pulled on your stiff muscles. Hoseok’s smile faded. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry,” you were quick to say. “I’ve just been sitting in this chair a lot these past few days and my back is complaining. Really, that’s on me.”

“I…” He hesitated for a moment. “I could give you a massage if you’d like. I’m not a professional but I… I used to give massages to my past owner often. He was an idol so he danced and performed a lot and I had learned from masseurs how to do it. I could do that for you if you liked.”

“You don’t have to. It’s just a stiff back, it’ll go away when I stop sitting all day.”

A massage sounded like heaven at that moment but you could do without it. Giving massages could be tiring and Hoseok didn’t have to do that just because you had bad posture and had stopped going regularly to the gym. If you really needed it, you could pay a masseur to come to your house. It seemed silly so you never did, but you could.

“I want to,” he said eagerly, his tail standing at attention. “I can make you feel better, I promise. If you’re comfortable with that, of course.”

You searched his face for any sign that he didn’t actually want to do it but you found nothing. “Okay, then. I would love a massage right now.”

“Yay! I will do my best,” Hoseok promised. “Let’s attack those muscle knots! Gently of course.” You giggled as he came to stand behind you. He pretended to crack his fingers before settling them on your shoulders. You were wearing a shirt with spaghetti straps and his hands were warm on your bare skin, which buzzed in anticipation. “Lean forward a little. Yeah, that’s perfect.”

He dug his fingers on either side of your neck and you had to bite your lip to stop a very embarrassing sound from slipping out. It sent a current through your whole body like you went numb to everything except the feeling of his hands on you. He kneaded your muscles, progressively adding more pressure. You closed your eyes, your body relaxing, losing some of the tension.

“That feels good,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

“I told you.” You could hear the satisfied smile on his face even though you kept your eyes closed.

One by one, your strings unraveled and your body felt lighter, as if you could float away if he pulled his hands away. He worked on the knots on the back of your neck and around it before he moved on to your shoulders and shoulder blades. You had received massages before–you had visited spas with friends on several occasions–but this felt different. You forgot about work and all the things you had to do, all the million little things that were hanging over your head, and for a moment you let yourself relax.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

The forest was still, bracketed by the almost black of the night. There were no lights that Yoongi could see coming from inside, even though you said there were multiple holiday homes around the lake. The Castle stood alone, like a real castle guarding the forest.

Hoseok was humming along to a pop song that was playing on his phone, it was at a low volume so his humming was almost as loud as the music. It was late into the night, everyone in the house having already retreated to their rooms. Yoongi didn’t care much about the song, it was generic at best. The vocals weren’t great and the beat was the same beat that every song used this summer with a little tweaking. But Hoseok liked it so he didn’t say anything.

The fox hybrid was sprawled on his bed, his eyes half closed as he moved his head to the music. His silk nightshirt had ridden up to expose a sliver of smooth tanned skin and Yoongi’s eyes kept being drawn to it.

“Anything interesting out there?” Hoseok asked. Yoongi shrugged. “You have been standing there for half an hour. Don’t look at me like that, you have.”

He raised his eyebrows, doubting that it had been that long, but moved away from the balcony door, sitting down on his bed. “It’s the same every night.”

“And you still look every night.” Hoseok turned off the music and stretched. His shirt rode up higher.

Yoongi looked down at his hands. “It’s calming. There is something about the trees and the lake, being away from the city. It’s quiet.”

His ears picked up the soft shuffling before a weight dipped into the bed next to him. “It’s nice, isn’t it? Has it really been only five months since we’ve been here? Less than that? I can’t imagine living in the city again, too much noise.”

Yoongi had lived his whole life in cities, he was used to their noise and the way it never went away. The sound of cars and motorbikes, people talking and shouting. It was never quiet. Not the way it was out here.

He wanted to tell Hoseok that he would never have to live in the city again but he couldn’t. On one hand, your job could lead you anywhere and Yoongi had a feeling that wherever you went, they would follow you, just like Virginia. On the other hand, although some part of him insisted that this was permanent, that this life they had built here wouldn’t be taken from them, he knew that the world wasn’t so kind. Sometimes, he stayed up at night thinking about it while Hoseok dreamed. He gazed at the forest to remind himself that they were still here, in this small paradise on earth, and then contemplated all the ways this could end. His mind wasn’t kind to him on those nights.

“Virginia was like this too,” Hoseok continued. “I miss it a little. The countryside was pretty and the house too. Almost like a fairytale. Do you think we’ll go back again?”

Hoseok’s hand was fidgeting on his thigh and Yoongi grabbed it to still it. “Maybe. She will have to film another season after this one. If this show is as successful as they say, there will be a few more seasons to come. They built sets and everything there.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.” Hoseok scooted closer to him and laid his head on his shoulder, their hands intertwined. “Do you think she will rent the same house? I want to go back there. It felt like home.”

Yoongi refrained from telling him that wherever he was, it felt like home. It was something someone more expressive than Yoongi would say, instead he said, “We can ask her. I don’t think she’ll mind. If it isn’t booked at the time, we could stay there again.”

“I’ll recruit Jiminie, she can’t say no to him,” he said, nuzzling closer to Yoongi’s neck, almost scenting him.

“She can’t say no to any of you.”

Hoseok hummed, his breath warming Yoongi’s skin and the scent of cinnamon tickling his lungs. “She wouldn’t say no to you either. If you ever asked her for anything.”

Yoongi didn’t know what to think about that. If he believed it. Yoongi had been trying to do better, trying to be a better person than he had been at the beginning. He would hate himself if he ever put you through what he had before. He would be making it up to you for his whole life. He wasn’t the same as the other hybrids, the same courtesy shouldn’t be extended to him.

Hoseok’s lips brushed his neck, light as a feather, and Yoongi shivered at the touch. Scenting each other wasn’t something new, they had been doing that since they escaped the ring. Before that, they would brush their wrists together through the bars of their cages, longing for the small comfort of each other’s scent. After Yoongi had disappeared, Hoseok had been touching and scenting him more as if he was afraid that he would slip through his fingers.

Some nights, Hoseok would crawl into his bed in the middle of the night and cling on to him. “Stay,” Hoseok would say. He didn’t tell him what his nightmares were about, he didn’t have to.

Yoongi vowed to himself to never leave him again. He would bite, scratch, and kick his way to him if he ever had to.

He had a lot to regret about that first month. He hadn’t only hurt you, he had hurt everyone else too. His own nightmares persisted, leaving him clutching the sheets, with his back to Hoseok, staying deadly still so he wouldn’t wake him up. So no one would know that those days still haunted him even though he wasn’t the one who had suffered.

In some of his dreams, the hybrid ring got to him before you did and punished him for escaping, before stabbing an injection in his neck and hauling him to the ring for one last fight. In others, it was Hoseok that they took and those were worse. They found him when he was looking for him and Yoongi could do nothing to stop them, voiceless with his feet rooted to the floor.

In some rare ones, he never made it out of the house. Namjoon threw him against the wall and held him there, looking more like a vengeful god than the real Namjoon. His sharp teeth gleamed viciously as he sunk them into Yoongi’s neck, breaking the skin and ripping out everything that was keeping him alive.

Hoseok pulled back, his eyes searching Yoongi’s face. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Thinking.” Of course, Hoseok would notice his thoughts spiraling. Yoongi had mastered hiding all emotions from his face but Hoseok could see right through any masks he crafted.

“You looked a little lost there for a moment,” he said, drawing closer to him again. “You can talk to me, you know.” He spoke almost jokingly but he couldn’t hide the tendrils of hurt in his voice. “I know you like to keep some things to yourself… But I’m here for you. I would never judge you, I swear.”

Yoongi was a coward. After his talk with Jimin, he had been planning to tell him everything but he kept putting it off. It was never the right moment, it could wait.

“I know,” Yoongi said quietly, squeezing Hoseok’s hand. “I want to tell you. I think you deserve that after everything.”

Hoseok frowned. “It isn’t about what I deserve. I just want to know so I can help. So I can understand you better. Nothing you say can ever change the way I see you. Nothing. You were there for me when I thought my life was over, that everything was over. You saved me, Yoongi. I would have died in there if it hadn’t been for you. I would trust you with my life. But sometimes, when you don’t tell me things—important things—it makes me feel like you don’t trust me at all.”

Yoongi’s heart gave a terrible bang. “That isn’t true. I trust you. I trust you more than anyone. I trust you more than I trust myself. It’s just… It’s hard to tell you when I want to forget.”

“I understand,” Hoseok said, his gaze falling on their joined hands on Yoongi’s lap. “But I don’t think you can forget either way.”

“You’re right, I can’t. And I never will.” It was too big, too cruel. For worse or for better, it had changed who he was to his core. He was who he was because of what had happened to him and Jimin. He had met both Jimin and Hoseok because of that monster. “But I want you to know now.”

So he told him everything. He detached himself from his words and numbed his feelings, because he was afraid that if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to sleep. He started from the beginning, from his first owner to the terrible end. He couldn’t look at him as he spoke, focusing on their connected hands. Hoseok’s scent soured until Yoongi could barely recognize it. But he had to power on.

When he was finished, Hoseok shot up, wrapping his arms around him impossibly hard and buried his face in Yoongi’s neck. There was wetness brushing against his throat and Yoongi only hugged him tighter.

“I’m sorry.” Hoseok’s voice was breaking and Yoongi hated that he was the cause for it, even though it was better this way. “It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t. I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” He brought his wrist to Hoseok’s neck, gently scenting him. They both needed it. “You saved me too. You saved me, Hobi.”

And sleep claimed them like that, wrapped up in each other with dried tears on their cheeks.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

Taehyung lay still in his bed, not making a sound. Phantom pains spread over his body, squeezing and squeezing until nothing was left of him. His head was loud but the sounds were muffled as if he was submerged underwater.

The room was illuminated by the soft light from the lamp next to his bed. He left it on every night. It was the same pattern, his nightmares not allowing him to rest more than a few hours at a time. There were new ones now. Ones of the red ballroom, the people in the chairs turning into monsters and dragging their claws all over his skin. You stood among them in your green dress, watching as it happened, your face empty.

Taehyung opened his eyes. He could see the forest from his room. He had never been to a forest before coming to the Castle, had never even seen one. It was majestic, the dark greens and browns, the way the branches reached towards the sky. Upwards and upwards.

He closed his eyes again. His tears had long dried when sleep swept him away again.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

Your heartbeat rattled your chest as if being chased by an invisible force with no escape. You swallowed down the bitterness in your mouth and willed the sharp images of your nightmare away. They were so clear, the red curtains and the shiny floors. The taste of the expensive champagne and the hors d’ oeuvre on your tongue. Long dresses swayed at your vision's edge, silk, velvet, and satin. Steady hands held guns aimed at you, they went off with a terrible scream. You woke up.

You were awake. You were in your room in the Castle. You were safe.

You tried to calm down your erratic breathing. Jimin was sleeping next to you and the last thing you wanted was to wake him up in the middle of the night and worry him. Clenching your teeth, you silently counted each breath. Were your hands shaking? They felt like they were shaking.

One, two, three.

Slower. Try slower.

Did your hands stop shaking? You gripped the fabric of your nightgown.

One, two–

A sleepy voice calling your name disturbed the murky waters of your mind. “Are you okay?”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. It was over. You were in Los Angeles. You were fine. Nothing had happened to you, no one had questioned you. You had gotten out. You were fine.

“Did I wake you up?” you asked. Your voice sounded weak even to your ears.

You heard the sheets rustle as Jimin moved closer. “Can I hug you?”

In the darkness of the room, you couldn’t see him well, only the shape of his body. “You don’t have to ask.”

“You are shaking.”

Were you? So it wasn’t just your hands. Another deep breath. Force your muscles to relax like the pieces of a machine.

“I am okay now, don’t worry. Come here.” You opened your arms and Jimin crawled into them, hugging your waist and laying his head on your collarbones. “Go back to sleep, kitten.”

Jimin shook his head. “Not if you don’t. What happened?”

“Just a bad dream, it was nothing.” The lies tasted bitter on your tongue. Were they lies though? It should be nothing, it shouldn’t be haunting you like that. Nothing had happened to you, you reminded yourself as if you repeated it enough times maybe the nightmares would go away. “I just need a few minutes to forget it.”

“Do you want to talk about it? Maybe that could be better than forgetting,” Jimin said.

But forgetting was the goal. Or at least getting rid of the nightmares that shouldn’t still be happening. It was over and you were okay. You were okay. There was no reason to worry Jimin, not when you weren’t the one who had suffered. You got dressed up, drank some champagne and made small talk. It wasn’t the end of the world.

“You don’t have to worry about this, it’ll go away on its own.” You run a hand up his back to comfort him. “My brain is just playing tricks on me.”

Jimin’s hand sought out your own and intertwined your fingers. He was quiet for a few moments before speaking, “Is this about the auction?”

You stilled. He couldn’t have known. You hadn’t mentioned it to anyone. And what right did you have to complain about it? You composed yourself. “How did you guess?”

“You have been… different since you came back. You have been lost in your head. I know you are tired and it’s hard with Taehyung now but you can talk to us if you want to. It must have been really scary.” He drew closer to you, gripping your hand tighter.

“I wasn’t alone. I had John there with me.”

“That doesn’t mean it wasn’t scary,” he whispered. “We were scared for you. We thought– We trusted you but we were scared.”

Your fingers tangled in his hair and rubbed behind his cat ears which you knew would relax him. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

“It’s okay. Taehyung is here now.”

Regardless of how many nightmares you had and the tightening in your chest whenever you saw the color of blood. Regardless of the constant fear of being discovered that would never go away. You could never regret what you had done. Not for a moment. Just thinking of Taehyung in that man’s hands evaporated any doubts you had about your decision.

Jimin nosed softly at your collarbones. “We love you. It’s okay to be scared, you can share it with us. You can share it with me.”

“I’m not scared,” you said. It didn’t matter that it sounded like you were lying to yourself. “It’s over. It’s been more than a week since it happened. I’m the last person who should be having nightmares over it.”

“Why are you saying that? It must have been terrifying.”

You took a deep breath, the red bleeding into the darkness. “It was easy to blend in. It was like so many of the parties and galas I have attended. I was the guest of honor, no one suspected anything. I wasn’t the one–”

You cut yourself off before you uttered the words but both of you knew. Silence fell between you. You wished you could fall asleep again but sleep was so far away.

“Do you feel guilty?” he asked quietly.

“For what?” You were confused. Why would you feel guilty? You had done your best, probably more than anyone in their right mind would do.

Jimin gave a small shrug, bringing your joined hands to your chest. “You just sounded like it. Like you felt guilty for having nightmares about it. You don’t have to be. You are here and you are okay but– But you could have not been.” There was fear in his voice and it hurt.

You held him closer and squeezed his hand. You were there now and you wouldn’t be going anywhere. His breath warmed your bare skin. You weren’t alone anymore, you had seven people to think about when you made decisions. You had a home and you would fight to get back to it every time.

“Let’s go to sleep, kitten. We’ll dream better together.”

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪��♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

After your short break, your return to work was uneventful. A few more days would have been nice but time was moving fast and there were a lot of things to do. On your first day back, before you had left the house Jimin and Jungkook got teary-eyed saying goodbye to you. Going back to work was hard for you too after being used to staying at home with them, but you would fall into your usual routine soon enough.

Your work was a big part of who you were, returning to the studios was like returning home in a way. The cast and the crew greeted you warmly with hugs and pats on the back. Will handed you a pack of papers and you made your way together to the reading room. You would be doing a few read-throughs to get the actors familiar with the characters again and work through a few knots in the script.

It was the same way it had been, waking up at the crack of dawn and returning when the sun was descending in the sky. The hybrids clung to you in any way they could while you were home. At breakfast and dinner, there was always someone touching you, Jimin sitting on your lap or Namjoon holding your hand or Jungkook hugging you from behind. They missed you and you missed them too but there was little you could do.

In the quiet of the night when most of the hybrids had retired, you asked Hoseok how Taehyung was adjusting. The answer was always the same. Hopeful but disappointing as well—guilt ate at you for feeling disappointed when you knew Taehyung was doing his best.

The story of the Raven Boys unraveled during the days and the nights. Your copy of the script was overflowing with red ink, underlined lines, and writing in the margins. It was shaping up to become everything you had envisioned and more. And you were happy. But you also missed spending more than a few hours at the Castle.

You could invite them to join you for filming and spend a little more time with them. However, you had a one-track mind while you were working and you couldn’t provide the attention they deserved. Often, you got too lost in your work. You could feel it now, clouding your mind and blending the days into a string of numbered scenes and takes.

It was a blessing that one week into filming, you finished early, just a couple of hours after lunch, and instead of staying and obsessing over the smallest details like you were prone to doing, you packed your backpack and returned home. John drove you back with instructions to relax and not think about work until the next morning. You didn’t mind listening to him.

“I’m home,” you shouted after opening the door. Due to their sensitive hearing any hybrid on the top two floors would hear the door opening, you liked to let them know it was you so they wouldn’t worry. You had wanted to surprise them so you hadn’t texted that you were coming back.

Jimin and Hoseok were the first ones to rush to the living room. Jimin fell into your arms with practiced ease and buried his face in your neck.

“Surprise,” you said, ruffling his blond hair.

He purred in contentment. Hoseok also joined the hug, his fluffy tail wrapping around your legs.

“Are you staying?” Jimin asked, his eyes shining with hope.

“I am. We finished early today so I’m all yours for the rest of the day.”

Jimin cheered and held onto your hand, following you into the kitchen where you poured yourself a glass of homemade lemonade from the fridge. A book and a few notebooks were spread over the kitchen island and you took a closer look at them. You recognized the textbook as one you had bought a few years ago during your first visit to Seoul for the press tour of one of your Oscar-winning films. You had read through the first few pages on the plane back to LA and when you had arrived you had placed it on the shelf that housed all your language-learning books and never picked it up again.

“Are you learning Korean?” you asked Jimin, scanning the awkward handwritten Korean letters in the pages of the notebook.

Flustered, Jimin didn’t look at you as he replied, “Hoseok is helping me. I thought I could communicate better with Taehyung if I knew a bit of Korean but it’s really hard.”

“He’s doing really well though,” Hoseok interjected with pride. “He is getting good at reading Hangul and he knows a few basic phrases too. He is learning very quickly.”

Jimin shrugged, his cheeks getting adorably rosy. “I have a great teacher.”

Hoseok cooed at the younger hybrid while you flipped through the pages of the textbook. You recognized your handwriting on the first few, you had written down a few questions you had so you could look them up later, which didn’t happen. Now, the answers were written underneath your questions in blue ink. The next pages were marked in both Jimin’s and Hoseok’s handwriting, there were notes in the margins and between lines and little doodles of flowers and butterflies.

Footsteps climbing up the stairs prompted you to let go of the notebook. Jungkook came running through the kitchen door and threw himself at you, nuzzling into your neck. You planted your feet on the ground and caught him just in time before you both went flying back.

“You’re back,” he whispered. He was bouncing on his feet, his excitement contagious.

“We finished early so I packed everything up and rushed back,” you said. “Has it been that long since I was back at a normal hour?”

Jungkook nodded resolutely and you couldn’t help but giggle. The truth was that it was the first time you were finishing early since filming had started again. The first week back was the busiest since you had to review everything, redraw most of the plans, check in with every department, and generally when you weren’t actively filming you spent them running around the studios like a headless chicken.

You should get a day off as soon as you could. For a workaholic, you missed being at home with them too much.

Namjoon and Seokjin were the next ones to appear at the kitchen door. Jungkook still hadn’t let go of you so they were content to leave twin kisses on your cheeks while teasing the bunny hybrid.

“Is Yoongi with Taehyung?” you asked, noting the absence of the two hybrids.

“They are in the garden,” Namjoon said, a fond smile playing on his lips. “Yoongi has been lounging in the sunlight since we finished lunch.”

“He’s starting to gain some color, he looks less like a ghost these days,” Seokjin joked. “Sometimes I think he is more cat than Jimin is.”

You laughed with them before your attention was drawn back to the textbook. It was hard learning a new language, you knew that very well. It could take years to reach a decent level depending on your dedication and the language itself. You remembered Alice suggesting you should learn Korean to communicate better with Taehyung. Jimin was doing just that without anyone asking him to and by the handwriting on a good chunk of the textbook, he had been doing it for some time.

Namjoon also took an interest in the textbook but he already seemed to know that Jimin had been studying the language.

“I would like to learn to,” he said. “I didn’t have to chance to learn another language in the past and it would be beneficial if we could communicate with Taehyung in his mother tongue. Maybe it would get him to open up more.”

Seokjin nodded. “I think it’s a good idea. I would like to learn a bit of Korean too.”

“I could teach you a few things,” Hoseok offered. “But I’m not a teacher, I don’t know what I’m doing most of the time. I can teach you a few words or phrases but”, he glanced at Jimin with a guilty look, “we are having some trouble with grammar.”

“That makes sense,” you reassured him. “It is very different speaking a language, especially when it’s your mother tongue, and teaching it to someone else. That’s why there are university courses for it. It’s a difficult job. But if you really want to learn Korean, I could find you a teacher who specializes in it. That way Hobi would have less on his plate as well.”

Jimin’s eyes widened. “Really? Can you do that?”

“Of course, I can,” you said. “I can find the best Korean teacher in Los Angeles and I can ask them to come here so you won’t have to go to the city. I’ll have to provide transportation of course. How does that sound?”

“Amazing,” Jimin cheered and hugged you again. “Thank you, thank you.”

“It’s the least I could do.”

The least because you couldn’t do the same. You didn’t have the time or the energy to learn another language when most of your day was taken up by your work. During the days you were at the studios and at nights often you had to retire to your office to answer emails and revise scripts before going to sleep. The best you could manage would be to learn a few basic phrases but that wouldn’t be helping anyone.

The arrangements for the teacher were easy. You didn’t have to look long on the internet and after a few calls you had found the perfect candidate who was more than happy to make the trip to the Castle three times a week and stay for three hours to teach the hybrids. You added a very generous bonus for her trouble.

Before finalizing the contract, you talked with Hoseok about an idea you had.

“She could help Taehyung with his English as well. A couple of hours a week could help a lot,” you suggested.

Hoseok was on washing duty after dinner and Taehyung had gone to his room for the night so it was the perfect opportunity to talk to him about this.

“It’s a great idea, if he wants to. I do my best but… I don’t think I’m helping on this,” Hoseok said, scrubbing a plate with the sponge. Foam was everywhere.

You rubbed his arm soothingly. “You’re doing amazing. Much better than I could have hoped for. But I know it’s hard for you and I wish there was a way to help you. I’m sorry I can’t do much.”

Hoseok shrugged, bubbles rising above the dishes. “You are doing the best you can, given the situation. You have already done more than anyone would have expected of you.”

Laughter floated in from the living room. You smiled through your exhaustion.

“Ask Taehyung about the teacher, okay? And tell him it’s your idea, not mine. I don’t want him to accept because I am the one asking.”

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

Jimin ran down the stairs, laughing wildly. Energy coursed through his veins and urgency pushed his legs to run faster and faster. He felt like a nymph in Land of the Gods, running through their trees, their hair flowing like an enchantment and laughing and laughing. He didn’t look at his pursuer, he knew who he was and it only filled him with delight.

The rooms blurred as he passed by, never losing his footing. He emerged in the garden and the sun kissed his skin, the fire inside him burning hotter in the heat. The green stretched around him and for a moment, he got the crazy desire to go into the forest and get lost there, underneath the shade of the tall trees. He wanted to dance and drink and eat juicy fruits between the trees like the fae in the stories you told them yesterday night.

Maybe one day.

Instead, he rushed to the stairs that led down to their room. The footsteps behind him were getting closer and he pushed himself to go faster, flying down the stairs.

There was nowhere else to go now and he paused in front of their bed. It was enough time for two hands to wrap around his waist and tackle him on the mattress. He resisted a little, just for show, before wrapping his own arms around broad shoulders and laughing some more. He felt like a child, in a way he couldn’t remember ever feeling before.

“You can’t escape from me,” Jungkook said, hovering above him.

“I didn’t try,” Jimin replied, running his hands over his shoulders and up the sides of his neck. “Bunnies are supposed to be fast, aren’t they? But you only caught me when I had nowhere else to go.”

Jungkook leaned into his touch. “I would have caught you anyway. You couldn’t run forever. Now you’re mine.”

He lowered himself until their bodies were merged together. He sniffed at Jimin’s neck, taking in his scent like he had done so many times, before rubbing his nose and his cheek over his scent gland. Jimin couldn’t stop the purrs that escaped him as his body melted. His hands tangled in Jungkook’s hair, who made an appreciative sound.

The scent of pears and gardenias was everywhere, it was deliciously overwhelming. He could almost taste the sweetness and tanginess of the pears on his tongue.

He tugged on Jungkook’s hair before he could lose his mind. “My turn.”

Jungkook arched his neck back to allow Jimin to scent him. He quickly found his scent gland and buried his face there. He closed his eyes and a garden bloomed behind his eyelids.

Jungkook’s scent was so sweet and it was mouth-watering combined with the pack’s scents. He could smell his own scent there and Namjoon’s scent of summer rain and pine trees was enveloping everything. The aroma of honey buns and sweet milk glazed over them like sugar and notes of cinnamon and sandalwood pushed through. If he looked for it, he could detect your scent, naturally fainter than hybrids’. Greedily, he searched for two more scents but he could only get the impression of dark chocolate. He might have imagined it.

“I’m happy,” Jmin whispered like it was a secret. There was the irrational fear that if he said it any louder, he would tempt fate to take it back.

“I’m happy too,” Jungkook said, laying his head on Jimin’s chest.

Jimin tangled his hands in his hair and massaged his scalp, he was rewarded with a pleased sigh. “It’s like everything has finally fallen into place. I’m not sad anymore. I didn’t realize how sad I was until I wasn’t. Even when I was happy, I was sad too. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“You don’t have to.” Jungkook caught his hand in his and brought it to his mouth, placing kisses on the back of it. Jimin’s heart fluttered with the wings of thousands of butterflies. “All that matters to me is that you aren’t anymore. I only want you to be happy. I know it isn’t possible to be happy all the time but I want us all to be happy. Together and happy.”

“Together and happy,” Jimin repeated quietly.

Every time he was was with Jungkook like that, his mind strayed. It went to all the possibilities, all the could-have-beens and the what-ifs. What would have happened if Jimin wasn’t a coward, if he hadn’t run away? If he had told you what had happened before, would he have been braver? Did Jungkook feel the same after everything that happened? Did he still want to kiss him?

His bunny was so beautiful, his soft dark brown ears that flopped against his hair, his cute nose and large eyes that held the galaxy inside them. Everything about him was beautiful and Jimin loved him so much he could burst. He wasn’t sure if it was right to love him like this, to want to kiss him and hold him like lovers did but he trusted you when you said that it was okay.

Lost in his thoughts, he tugged lightly on Jungkook’s hair, who let out a sound that lit a fire inside him. It was a moan, Jungkook had moaned.

His cheeks growing red, he looked at Jimin like a deer caught in headlines. “I’m sorry! I didn’t- I shouldn’t-”

“Jungkookie, it’s okay.”

“No, no. I’m sorry,” he continued quickly. “I don’t know why I did that. I’m-”

“Jungkook,” Jimin said more firmly. “It’s okay. Really. I didn’t mind. You… sounded good.”

“Good?” Jungkook asked confused. And his eyes, how could his eyes hold so many stars inside them?

Slowly, Jimin tugged at his hair again. “Yeah, good. I liked it.”

“Oh.”

They looked at each other and the world faded around them. There was only them, them and the heat brewing between them.

“Do you-” Jimin looked away. He couldn’t just ask him like that. But what else could he say? “I love you, I love you so much. I never want you to forget. Anything that may happen, I’ll still love you.”

“I love you too, you know I do. You are my Jiminie. I would do anything for you.” He bit his bottom lip and Jimin wished he was the one doing it instead. “Did something happen?”

“No, I just wanted you to know,” he said, cupping Jungkook’s face. His skin was the highest quality of silk and satin under his hand. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m so difficult, so… scarred.”

Jungkook’s hand covered his and his gaze was unyielding, it didn’t allow him to look away. “Never apologize for that. Never. You aren’t difficult, you are incredible. You are strong, stronger than I could ever hope to be. Your scars don’t define you. I met you with your scars and I love you with them all the same. I don’t care if I have to be a little more careful or if I have to hold you a little closer sometimes. Just being close to you is all I need.”

There was a stinging behind Jimin’s eyes. “My baby,” he said like a prayer. An invisible thread pulled him closer to Jungkook until only a breath separated them. “Can I kiss you?”

“Kiss me?”

Jimin hated the doubt and the fear in his voice, he grieved that he had been the one to put it there. “I want to, I promise. It’s okay, I talked with Y/N. I’ve been so stupid. I want to kiss you so much, baby.”

“Please. Please, kiss me,” he said, voice breaking.

Their lips came together softly. There was no rush, no harshness, only love and patience. He was warm, warmer than he had ever felt. He was safe in Jungkook’s arms, hidden away in the Castle, in their home. Sweetness coated his lips. He might not deserve this, might be too broken for this but he never wanted to let go.

Two tears rolled down his cheeks. Catharsis.

Jungkook pulled back in panicked haste. “Did I hurt you? Did-”

Jimin let his tears run their course down to his neck in favor of cupping Jungkook’s face. “You could never hurt me. They’re happy tears. I’m very happy.”

The tension in Jungkook’s face eased and Jimin pulled him closer again. As he kissed him, he tasted love and freedom. He tasted of healing.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

The grand piano stood by the glass wall in the living room, polished until the black surface reflected the light like a mirror. It was a thing of beauty, a gem dipped in luxury to decorate a rich household. For Yoongi, it was so much more.

It was a few hours until you would be back home and the sun was setting behind the forest. The lights were off in the living room and it was painted in the red, gold and pink of the sunset. You would be back later than usual, the filming schedule was packed for the day and after that was done you would visit the headquarters of the production company. You had told them to eat dinner without you.

Yoongi’s fingers flew over the black and white keys. He closed his eyes and focused on the music. Each note was a bright light in the darkness behind his eyelids. It was easy to get lost in the music, in the feelings it evoked and in the pictures it weaved.

He heard it when Taehyung arrived. He didn’t speak, gave him space to go away if he wanted or simply listen in silence. The melody grew more tender.

Taehyung didn’t go away, he drew closer. He hesitated before sitting on the bench next to him, leaving a small space between them. The song blended into the next one and the next one until the familiar stiffness spread over Yoongi’s fingers and he stopped.

Outside, the reds and golds had turned into purples and deep blues. Yoongi would have to turn on the lights soon.

“Do you want to try?” Yoongi asked when the silence stretched and Taehyung didn’t seem to find the words he was looking for.

Taehyung looked at the piano in quiet wonder. “Can I?”

He was so young and it made Yoongi furious that some bastards had carved the innocence and joy out of him. He wanted to find the monsters who had done this to him and tear them apart limb by limb.

His long fingers hovered over the keys. “How?”

“Just do whatever feels right.”

Taehyung pressed the keys one by one at first, the faint lines of a smile appearing on his face at every new sound. Progressively he got braver, pressing keys together and creating disjointed melodies.

“Together?” Taehyung asked shyly.

Yoongi couldn’t say no.

Please comment and reblog it motivates me to keep writing

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agusfree · 1 year ago

Text

Oh, Darling! | MYG | One

Pair: Professor!Yoongi x Student!Reader

Summary: Starting your second semester at one of South Korea’s most prestigious universities should be stressful enough. Between juggling classes, good grades and a social life, your plate was full. Hoping to spice up your academic career, you thought it was a good idea to enroll as an assistant for your literature professor, whom you've held a very secret and very forbidden crush on for the past several months. What will happen now that you’re forced to work closely together? And what if your crush isn’t as one sided as you thought?

Genre: Series, fluff, angst, smut, non idol au, university au.

Chapter Warnings: Professor Min, long hair Yoongi (both are good warnings okay?). Smut.

WC: 9k

[Membership]

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MARCH 12TH | 21:17

Enrolling on a tutoring program seemed like a simple idea at the time.

All you had to do was come into class a few days a month, for a subject you had already taken last semester, and help newer students in exchange of extra credit and a hefty recommendation letter that would spruce up your resume. You have done really well in Modern Korean Literature in the past, so you shouldn’t have any trouble helping others learn.

Every now and then, however, the professor would need your help outside of the classroom; for grading papers, helping format and fact-check exams, plan activities and so on.

And it was at those times that you really struggled.

Professor Min was different from the other teachers at your university.

For starters, he was in his early thirties; unlike most of the school board that were already pushing their mid fifties. And he was gorgeous. The level of handsomeness that made girls fail his class for not paying attention to what he was teaching and some guys would do a double take when he walked past in the Seoul National University corridors.

Min Yoongi was also a brilliant man.

With titles and impressive degrees, the man was nothing short of a genius. On top of teaching classes at SNU –ones that had a waiting list for enrolment– he was also a very talented author with best sellers under his belt.

All that paired up with his gentle nature, sharp tongue and his overall presence did not do well for your ever growing crush on the man.

And as much as you knew nothing could ever happen between you –the few years apart in age and the risk of losing your spot in the university and his job making it impossible for you to even harbor any hope– you did catch him looking at you every now and then, and you were sure he did flirt with you at least once or twice before.

“I can’t believe you’re ditching us for this.” Jungkook, your twin flame, cousin, and dorm-mate was saying as he parked his car in the university parking lot.

“I need the extra credit, Kook.”

To that, the man sitting behind you in the backseat scoffed. “We both know that’s not true. Just admit you’re in love with your professor and go.”

“I’m not!” you groaned, turning around to squint your eyes at Taehyung. “You guys are just upset because you won’t get free drinks without me, but you won’t even miss me.”

“Excuse you, we’re perfectly capable of getting free drinks on our own, but it helps when you’re friends with the bartender.” Tae threw back, but Jungkook was still pouting.

“Just tell Minie I sent you and he’ll hook you up.”

The noise Jungkook let out at the mention of your bartender best friend was a perfect mix between a screech and a grunt. You most definitely weren’t the only one with an unrequited crush.

“Alright, see you guys tomorrow. Thanks for the ride, Kook.”

“Yeah, yeah, goodbye, traitor.”

You were laughing at his pout as you got out of the car, feeling the cold winds of March kissing your bare legs.

It was past ten at night as you made it to campus, walking into the building of Languages and Literature to find it deserted. It wasn’t your first time between these walls so late at night, but it was definitely a first for you on a Saturday.

You should be annoyed, really, since you were really looking forward to the night out with your friends. But Professor Min seemed so desperate when he texted you an hour ago that you had no choice but to ask Jungkook to turn around and drop you off at university instead.

Your knock on the professor’s private office was soft, but you knew he caught it as you heard steps from the inside. A second later and he was opening the heavy doors with a swish.

“You’re here, good.” the man offered you a tight lipped smile as he pushed the door open for you to come inside. “I’m really sorry to text you at such short notice, I wouldn’t have if it wasn’t important–”

“It’s okay, professor.” you assured as you walked deeper into the office, dropping your small purse on the corner of the brown leather couch. “What can I help you with?”

You turned back around to catch him staring at your legs. It was just for a second, and you were sure it meant nothing, but it still sent a funny feeling up your spine. He also didn’t answer you right away, making you wonder if he paid attention to your words at all. It gave you some time to pay attention to him.

Professor Min had a style that bordered the fine line between casual and formal. His black pants were tailored, and his open blazer didn’t have a single crease. But the white t-shirt underneath and the same color sneakers broke the formality of it all. His hair was so long it started to touch his shoulders, the fringe pushed back and away from his forehead; a little messy from running his hands through.

“Were you heading somewhere?”

His question was clearly aimed at your dress, much shorter than you would ever wear on a normal day at university. It was also lathered with guilt, so you shook your head in a lie that you knew wouldn’t stick.

“So that’s all for me?” Professor Min asked with a raised eyebrow and tilt of his head, catching your lie, pressing for the truth. If only he knew the effect his words had on you.

“Don’t people say to dress for the job you want?”

That made him laugh; a scratchy sound deep from his throat as he walked past you and towards his desk at the back of the room.

“And what is it you want?”

Not to burst into flames with the way the man rolled the stiff sleeves of his blazer up to his elbows, revealing pale arms, lean muscles and veins.

“To help you.” you finally said after what felt like a too long staring session. “You seemed a little rushed through the text, Professor Min.”

“Just Yoongi is fine.” the man said, rounding the table to fiddle with a stack of papers he was clearly working on before your arrival. You were about to protest, and he sensed it when he said: “I clearly messed up your Saturday night plans, the least I can do is let you off from being so formal.”

“Yoongi.” you repeated with a small nod, wanting to test how it sounded on your tongue.

The man had been your professor last semester, on the subject you were now helping him with, and you were one of his monitors ever since the start of this term. But you had never called him by name, too scared of what it might do to your poor delusional self.

"I really need to finish this chapter by Monday, and I also need to grade these exams by Monday." the man said with a tired sigh, feeling the need to explain himself: "I'm usually more organized than this… My editor, however, apparently not. He didn't tell me the deadline was cutting close– and you don't care about that, I'm stalling."

Yoongi’s new sigh made your heart clench for the man. He was clearly stressed and you had noticed the two empty coffee cups by his trash and the half full one sitting on a coaster on his dark wood desk. You knew he was working on a new book, even if he was very tight lipped about what it was.

Authors and their secret projects, you supposed.

“I was under the impression that tutors weren’t supposed to grade the exams of other students?” you asked sheepishly, standing in front of his desk.

“I trust you to not give your friends higher grades than what they deserve.”

“I wouldn’t.” you assured him, eyes widening a fraction.

“It will be our little secret, then.”

Professor Min gave you the stack of papers you were supposed to grade, as well as the cheat-sheet with his own answers so you could base your revision off of them. He let you borrow a few pens, since you weren’t exactly prepared with your backpack and pencil case when coming over tonight, and you moved back to the couch.

Sharing his desk was out of question, since he had way too many things on its surface and you guessed he needed that kind of organized mess to work. You settled on the floor, between the leather couch and the low coffee table, using it as a makeshift desk. The plush rug felt nice against your legs, stopping the cold of the tiles to get to you.

Sitting down was a bit of a struggle, since you had to try and keep your modesty, but there was no way you could stop your dress from riding up your thighs at least a little bit. This was your Second Date dress, the one you felt the best in and the one that had guaranteed you getting fucked at the end of the night in every ocasion you wore it.

You didn’t intend on wearing it for your professor and breaking the lucky cycle, but you didn’t exactly have time to go home and change before swooping in to his rescue.

MARCH 12TH | 22:21

The first time it happened, you chucked it off to your own wishful thinking.

You were distracted with the tenth exam, words starting to jumble together as you tried to make sense of Kim Sora’s chicken scratch, huffing to yourself in frustration when you looked up and to the side. Yoongi had his eyes on you, over the screen of his laptop, averting his gaze way too quickly for someone who had nothing to hide.

It was still enough to bring a flush to your cheeks, but you ignored it in favor of believing it to be a moment of distraction from his hard work.

The second time it happened, you had just adjusted yourself on the rug, stretching your legs in front of you and under the table, crossing your heels on top of the other. It was pure curiosity that made you look up at Yoongi again. This time, his eyes stayed on your legs a bit longer, flitting to your face and holding your stare for all of two seconds.

Two seconds that felt like minutes and made you want to squirm on your makeshift seat.

The third time it happened, it was your own fault.

You were about to start grading Jungkook’s exam, holding back the want to text him about it and tease him, when Yoongi groaned. It was a groan of frustration, paired with his knobby fingers running through his already messy, dark hair. But it still made you look up and wonder just what other sounds he might make.

Like a magnet, the beautiful man kept your eyes stuck to him. More specifically, on the way his pink bottom lip looked a little swollen from all the bitting he was doing on his focus. The noise of his rushed typing on his keyboard helped your entranced state and you couldn’t look away. Not even when his tongue poked out of his mouth to lick between his lips.

Your heart was trying to beat out of your chest, completely freezing as your gaze traveled up his cute button nose and stopped at his feline-like eyes. Professor Min was looking at you, having caught your stare. And he held it again, but you didn’t run from it. Not when you had caught him twice before.

Your lips moved of their own accord, as if you wanted to say something, anything. The movement dragged his dark eyes down your face, completely choking you up. Your mouth closed and you knew your face looked as red as it felt. Yoongi let out a small hum, something you could only interpret as satisfaction, and got back to working on his task.

The buzzing on your lap stopped you from being mortified and you looked down to see a string of text messages from your friend’s group chat.

Joonie [22:50]: whts this I hear about u ditching us to sit on a professor’s dick?

You [22:51]: tell @tae to stfu there will be none of that! I’m working

Tae [22:51]: I take offense to that, how do you know it wasn’t kook??

You [22:51]: bc I’m sure he’s either wasted by now or making heart eyes at Jimin by the bar

Your confirmation came in the form of a video. The content was blurry and dark, no doubt taken in the bar they were in, and you could slightly see Jungkook’s broad frame and half of his face. Turning the volume of your phone down enough so only you could hear it, you pressed play.

“Babyyyy, we miss youuuu.” you could hear Jimin’s voice yelling at the phone.

“No we don’t!” Jungkook was clearly drunk, with the way he got in front of Tae’s phone and blocking your views of the blonde man behind the bar. A second later, your roommate was whispering: “Yes we do, but don’t tell her–”

Your giggle was easy and light hearted as you blocked your screen again without answering. As much as you didn’t regret coming over to take some of the weight off your professor’s shoulder, you did feel a little fomo.

“That your boyfriend?” Yoongi’s raspy voice pulled you out of your own thoughts, making you jolt a tiny bit.

“Uh, no.” you pretended not to understand your need to clarify: “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Mm.”

His little hum told you absolutely nothing. Was he relieved? Disinterested? Only asked to be polite? Before he could close himself inside his bubble again, you asked:

“Do you like jjapaguri?”

“Yeah.”

“With pork or steak?” you pulled your phone again, opening the food delivery app.

“Pork– wait, why?”

His attention was on you again and you lifted yourself from the floor, shoes getting lost a while ago, to sit on the couch.

“I know a good restaurant nearby and they deliver until pretty late.” you explained, scrolling for the menu items you just mentioned.

“Miss Yn–”

“I thought we didn’t need to be so formal tonight, Yoongi.” you stopped his denying with a crooked smile. “Besides, you messed up my Saturday night plans, the least you could do is have dinner with me.”

You knew you were pushing a bit, didn’t know if he’d take your small tease as petulance or as a joke. You’d never talk like this to any of your other professors; but then again, you never stayed past midnight on a now-sunday with any of them.

Yoongi regarded you for a moment, stretching his legs in front of him and making his chair creak when he leaned back against the backrest.

“I could use a break, I guess.” his agreement made you smile and resume your ordering. “But at least let me pay.”

“It’s fine.”

You did live on a budget, and had to pay more to have a room for yourself in the co-ed dormitory you resided in. But you could still afford to buy two bowls of noodles from a restaurant down the street.

Feeling pretty bold, and hoping Yoongi might catch the implications behind your words, you said:

“You can pay for dinner next time.”

“Okay.”

Not even twenty minutes later you were already making it back to Yoongi’s office after picking up the food from the delivery guy at the front door. The string-bean like man told you he thought it was a prank order, since no one had ever ordered food this late to be delivered at the university and that he was thankful you weren’t a ghost.

You were still laughing about it as you pushed the heavy doors to the office with your hip, almost stilling in place when you watched your professor ridding himself of his blazer.

“I got the drinks.” the man said as he pointed to the two cans of soda on top of the center table that had been ridden of all the papers you were grading before.

“Good, thanks.”

You sat on the couch, leaning over the small table to place the take-out bags and pull out the plastic bowls of greasy noodles. Yoongi sat next to you, only half a cushion between the two of you.

“It’s just from the vending machine down the hall.” he said nonchalantly, as if it wasn’t a big deal. “I remember seeing you drinking Sprite, and I didn’t know what else you liked, so.”

“Sprite is perfect, Yoongi.” you said with a smile that you tried to contain. “It’s my favorite, actually.”

“My best friend loves it too.” he said with a small scoff and a roll of his eyes. “I like coke better.”

“At least one of you has good taste.” your scoff slipped out as you handed the man his bowl. “Diet coke?”

“When you get to a certain age, you have to start looking after your figure.”

You had to bite your tongue to stop the comment that was about to jump from it. With the way the white t-shirt fell over Yoongi’s thick shoulders, straining against his arms, and resting over a clearly toned chest, you doubted he had much trouble staying fit.

You ate in silence at first, savoring the noodles and munching on the pork meat. Albeit greasy, it was surprisingly tender and practically melted on your mouth. Yoongi seemed to be enjoying himself too, with the little hums he kept letting out, eyebrows kissing high on his smooth forehead.

“I didn’t realize I was this hungry.” he commented while pausing his chewing in order to drink from his can.

“When was the last time you ate?” you wanted to know.

His forehead creased as if deep in thought, until he said: “I honestly don’t remember. Does coffee count?”

“Absolutely not.” you reprimanded.

“Time flies when you’re hating absolutely everything you write.” he mused, almost bitterly.

“Is your new book giving you trouble?” you asked before pushing a chunky piece of meat past your lips.

“Hm. Yeah.” Yoongi seemed to ponder his answer for a while, finally admitting: “Trying to write my first novel is going a little harder than I expected.”

“A novel?!”

You couldn’t stop your excitement at the news. You read three of Yoongi’s previous books; one of them was on the reading list for the class you took with him, and the other two were purely for selfish reasons. They were all textbooks talking about Korean literature, modern and classic, and it still hooked you up on every word. Surely having seen the man behind the words helped a lot, but you still enjoyed them.

But to know he was working on a novel? That absolutely interested you, not to mention how curious you were to ask about the plot and genre.

“Don’t get so excited, it might never see the light of day.” his scratchy laugh made you squirm a little and you had no reasonable explanation as to why.

“I don’t believe you’re having that much trouble.” you said as you opened your can of Sprite, holding it away from you and from him to avoid any spilling; never one to trust a vending machine can.

Yoongi chewed for a while, forehead still creasing from the taste, before saying: “I wasn’t struggling at first, but my editor had me rewrite the whole thing. Well, the whole five chapters I had so far.”

“I can see why that would stress you out…”

“It’s a mystery book. Hoseok wants me to add romance to it.” it sounded like a complaint more than sharing, but you guessed he was holding onto those feelings of frustration for too long, so you let him talk. “But I guess sex sells. And I know he has a point, I just wish I wasn’t struggling so much.”

“I could… Take a look at it for you?” you offered, bracing yourself for the rejection that was clearly coming when he didn’t answer right away. “I mean, I am a literature major and I took a course in creative writing–”

“Okay.”

“–but if you don’t– wait, really?” you blinked and he almost looked… endeared?

“There’s a reason I picked you over the dozens of applicants for this spot, Yn.” Yoongi admitted, finishing the last scoop of noodles. “You can read a bit of it and I’ll finish grading the papers.”

You nodded, closing the lid on your half finished bowl of noodles. “I already finished it, but wrote the scores with a pencil so all you have to do is cover it with a pen. I thought people might notice if they got them back with another handwriting that wasn’t yours.”

“Smart.”

“Didn’t wanna get you in trouble.”

Yoongi smiled softly and went back to his table, leaning over his computer and clicking a few things here and there while you cleaned up the coffee table of any trash and leftovers.

When you joined him on the other side of the desk, Yoongi looked like he was ready to bolt.

“I won’t be too mean about it.” you said in what you hoped would be taken as a joke. “I’m sure you have nothing to worry about anyway.”

“Hold that thought.”

The man let you sit at his desk as he took your place on the couch. He had his back to you as he picked up the exams, most likely scared to see your reactions to what he wrote. And as much as his back muscles called to you, straining against the fabric of his shirt, you wanted to read the first chapters of the novel.

Focusing on it was a tricky task at first, when you were surrounded by so many of Yoongi’s things. If you took anything other than a shallow breath, you were engulfed by the smell of musk, grapefruit and something woody that was just so Yoongi it made you a little dizzy.

You weren’t a particularly slow reader in the first place, having read the fifth Harry Potter book in less than forty eight hours, but you were whooshing through this. Yoongi had a way with words that really captured you, that put you inside his pages and that really painted a picture. There were cliffhangers and parts that made you chuckle and others that made you gasp.

In fact, you let out so many noises that made Yoongi turn around and stare at you again.

“Oh, it’s over already?” you pouted when you got to the last page of the document, wanting more. “Okay, I see what you mean.”

“It’s shit, innit?”

“No, Yoongi.” you chuckled at his dejected face, getting up from his chair and immediately missing his scent. “But I can tell that you added the love interest as a second thought. It’s not so… Natural for the reader.”

“I know.”

He groaned in frustration for the tenth time tonight, hiding his face on his hands, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. You sat next to him, nibbling on your bottom lip.

“I think it would help if you added subtle hints that they are attracted to each other. It would make it easier for the romance to blossom down the line.”

“Subtle hints?”

You nodded while you wanted to laugh. Clearly Yoongi didn’t read enough romance novels to know what you were talking about. It didn’t seem like his style either, but if he wanted to write about romance, he had to read about it. Or he had to experience it.

“Yeah. Like furtive looks when someone thinks the other doesn’t notice it.” you stated and his cheeks gained a slight pink hue you didn’t miss. “And small touches.”

Yoongi sat against the back of the couch again, hands resting on his thighs, fingers twitching. He still looked utterly confused. You didn’t really blame him, having a theory that when your professor wanted something, he went after it. You could read him like a man that didn’t waste any time beating about the bush, he was honest and sometimes brutally so. Why would he be any different when it came to his love life?

Biting the bullet, and before you could really think about how much of a bad idea this was, your said:

“I think it’s getting a little late and I should go.” contradicting your words, you placed a soft hand on his forearm. It was only there for a moment, but you made a point of dragging your thumb over his heating skin. “Let me know if you need anything else, okay?”

Yoongi seemed dumbfounded, you had never touched him like this. Or in any other way for that matter. This whole night passed as a blur to him.

From the moment you were knocking on his door wearing this damn dress, to the way you didn’t mind how much shorter it got as you moved about his space, to your gentleness and care when ordering dinner for the both of you. Everything was too much, while simultaneously not enough.

Yoongi wasn’t blind, much less dumb. He knew the effect he had on students, and he knew the effect he had on you. From the way your face and neck gained a cute pink shade whenever he complimented you for a job well done after one of his classes, or how shy you seemed to be when you first started working together on the monitoring program.

But he didn’t expect you to make the first move like this. To touch him like this. It was fleeting and it was barely there, a touch so subtle that he barely missed it. Still, it was enough to set his nerve endings on fire, send his brain into overdrive and a rush straight to his–

Hold on.

Subtle hints. Small touches.

Oh.

Ohh.

You got up from the couch, your bare legs brushing his knees as you passed by him and Yoongi didn’t know if he should feel relief or disappointment that you were only showing him what you meant when it came to your advice about his book.

It most definitely wasn’t the first option.

But he wished for it to be, because the alternative was much too dangerous for him to even entertain the idea of. You were his student. He was in a position of power over you in so many ways, he didn’t want to force you into anything you didn’t want.

He couldn’t find out if you wanted the same thing as he did.

And Yoongi actually appreciated how much you helped him, and he really appreciated this job. While getting involved with you wouldn’t be illegal –you weren’t a minor for a few years now– it was imperative that he didn’t think of you in any way other than his best student.

“See what I did there?” you turned around to face him, dropping whatever act you had put on to show him the subtle touches you were on about.

But you looked so happy while at it that he didn’t hold back his own smile. One that would give him a lot of shit for if Hoseok was there to witness it.

“Yeah, I think it’ll help.” he nodded, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants. “But you’re right, it is quite late.”

“Oh, yeah, I didn’t really notice it.” you looked around to check the digital clock on the cream wall, the blue LED light marking 00:37. “Guess I can call a cab, it’s still too early for my friends to be leaving the bar.”

“So you were going somewhere.”

You smiled sheepishly, offering him a little shrug as he got up from the couch to close up his notebook and gather his things so he could leave too.

“Don’t you want to go meet them?” Yoongi wondered while placing a fountain pen on the breast pocket of his discarded jacket.

“Nah, at this point they are mostly too drunk to be fun when I’m this sober.” you chuckled, fixing your shoes on your feet.

“I’ll just drive you home, then?”

Your breath got caught on your throat. It wasn’t a question, Yoongi was doing what he wanted and he was driving you home. The assertiveness made the butterflies go a little haywire on your stomach, and you had no option but to nod.

MARCH 13TH | 01:09

The Languages and Literature department wasn’t that far from your dorm building, especially not at this hour of the night, when streets were empty and students were either already sleeping or out enjoying the city nightlife.

Yoongi’s car was clean and comfortable, nothing flashy or ostentatious, but he did have a built-in GPS and a very modern sound system. He kept a mellow R&B playlist low on the background as he drove and you couldn’t help but stare at the veins in his arm as he held the steering wheel with one hand.

In such a small space everything seemed heightened. From the sound of your own heavy breathing, to the rustle of the plastic bag with your leftover dinner resting by your feet. But it was Yoongi’s soft hums when he liked a song and the amplified scent oozing off of him that was making you go a little crazy.

When the car came to a halt a few stops away from your building, slightly hidden behind a large tree and away from the nearest street lamp, you wanted to find an excuse, anything to stay there and prolong your goodbyes. You wouldn’t have another class with Yoongi for a few days, since he liked to rotate his two assistants, and you didn’t know when you’d have a one on one session with him again.

The professor didn’t seem eager to let you go either, when he turned the engines off and cut the lights.

“I hope your wife won’t mind you staying out so late.” you heard yourself saying, heart beating quickly on your chest at the prospects of a confirmation you didn’t want.

Yoongi let out a breathy laugh, pushing his hair away from his forehead again. “Don’t have one.”

“Your girlfriend then?”

“Not that either.”

If Yoongi thought your questions were invasive or out of line, he didn’t show it. When you removed your seatbelt and let it slide back into place, the man turned slightly to the side. To stare at you. To wait for your next move. When you didn’t make any motion of leaving his car, he clicked his own seatbelt free.

Was he expecting you to invite him up? You doubted it, since he was careful enough to park so far away from the entrance of your dorm building, where it was safe from prying eyes.

“Yn.” he said, and you liked the way your name sounded in the solitude of his car.

“Yes, Professor Min?”

Whatever question he had seemed to die on his tongue and you basked in the way his gaze grew darker. You licked your lips out of habit, a movement that caught his sharp attention immediately.

You couldn’t tell when you started leaning into his space. Maybe it was before his warning call to your name, even. Your heart was pumping so much blood through you that your pulse was buzzing in your ears.

“Told you to not call me that when it’s just the two of us.” his tone was low, teasing almost, and it sent a pool of heat right between your legs.

“What do you want me to call you?” you were a breath away from whimpering, begging him to close the distance before you leaned all the way over the console of the car, you needed him to give you something. “Sir?”

The grunt that escaped his pretty lips made a new wave of arousal course through you, every cell on your body buzzing from the possibilities.

Rationally, you knew you shouldn’t be this close. You should have left his car as soon as it parked, wished him good luck with his book and thanked him for the ride. But something was keeping you stuck to this seat, maybe the same thing that made him take off his seatbelt and not ask you to leave.

It was pretty obvious to the two of you what was happening right now, the tension too thick to pretend it wasn't there, the elephant in the room too obnoxiously colored to ignore.

“We can’t.” the man said, pale hand resting on your shoulder as if to stop you from coming any closer.

But his thumb brushed your collarbone, his digits pressed against your skin, his eyes dropped to your lips. You wanted him so much. More than you ever wanted anything in your life.

“Yoongi–”

It was erotic, the way his name fell from your lips. A whine, a plea.

One he didn’t have the strength to ignore.

The hand on your shoulder slipped to the back of your neck, gentle, yet firm, pulling you closer to him the rest of the way so your lips could clash together at once. It was mind numbing and electrifying. His lips felt so soft against yours, but full of purpose as he slowly moved them over yours.

Your hand rested on his thigh as you looked for balance, fingers digging into the hard flesh as you heard his groan against your lips. The hand on the back of your neck slipped into your hair, tilting your head to the side and you were gone.

A soft gasp left your lips, giving Yoongi the perfect opportunity to push his tongue past your lips, licking into your mouth, rolling it over yours with so much want it left you breathless. It took you a few seconds for your brain to catch up; just as Yoongi was starting to pull back, you chased his lips again, taking his bottom one between your teeth.

Maybe you were blinded by your crush on the man, drunk on desire, intoxicated by the thrill of making out with your professor, but you didn’t think that any other kiss you ever had compared to his. The way he had control over his tongue, how he knew exactly how to flick it, how fast or slow he should go. You didn’t want it to end, but you were losing your already short breath.

“Tell me what you want.” Yoongi’s request was a low blow and he knew that.

It was his way to alleviate his guilty conscience, letting you ask him what you wanted, instead of imposing his wants on you. It just so happened that apparently you both wanted the same thing.

“Want you.” you told him meekly. As if you weren’t just biting on his lip two minutes ago.

“‘m here.”

You seemed to think about your options, looking around his car, to his lap, then at the steering wheel. He could almost see the calculations you were making behind your eyes, until you threw a glance to the back seat. Your silent request was understood and Yoongi let go of your neck so he could squeeze his way to the back of his car, falling to the middle seat with a less than attractive thud.

You started giggling and Yoongi wanted to wipe it off your pretty, tantalizing lips.

“Come here.”

Despite your short dress, you maneuvered yourself with a lot more grace than he had, making him wonder just how many times you had done something like this before. It was a thought he quickly shook away.

“Eager, are we?” you teased, settling over his lap, with a knee on each side of his narrow hips.

“You’re one to talk.” was his comeback, and he knew he had to do better than that. But it wasn’t really his fault that all the blood seemed to be moving down and settling on his crotch.

You laughed, all pretty and sweet, sitting your ass on top of his bulge and holding yourself by his shoulders. Yoongi’s hands were on your thighs and he didn’t know legs could feel this smooth and soft. The more his fingers inched up, the more he realized just how much your tiny dress has ridden up and laid bunched on your hips.

The car was dark and the murky windows made it hard for the outside light to filter in, but he could still see the light material of your small panties. Pink and lacy. Cute.

“Wanna kiss you again.” you were impatiently asking, slipping one of your hands into his hair. “God, always wanted to do this.”

“Kiss me?” he asked with a cocked brow.

“That too, but I mean your hair.”

His chuckle was nice, all the way from deep in his chest. “You like it?”

“So much.”

This should be weird, you thought to yourself. You were sitting on your professor’s lap, about to have his tongue down your throat again. His hands were inching closer and closer to your ass, until he grabbed handfuls of it and pressed you harder against him, tearing a moan from you.

But it wasn’t weird at all.

Maybe you had imagined and fantasized about this so many times that it felt natural to you now that it was actually coming true. Surely you pictured Yoongi fucking you on a bed –or in the shower, or bent over his desk–, but the backseat of his car was just as exciting.

“Still waiting.”

Yoongi said with a lick to his lips, beaconing you closer and closer until you could feel his breath on your face. As he tried to close the rest of the space and reach for your lips, however, you held onto his long hair. Your pull made it impossible for his head to move any closer and the sting to his scalp made him growl. He liked that.

You giggled at the way his bottom lip pushed out just for a second and he caught himself pouting, rolling his eyes as if that reaction surprised even himself.

“Yn–”

The reprimand was interrupted as your lips searched for his tongue, latching onto it so you could suck on it slowly, head bobbing as your hips rocked on top of his lap. One of Yoongi’s hands stayed on your ass as the other continued up your back, testing his luck and moving to your front to rest on your ribs, the tips of his fingers brushing against the underside of your covered breasts.

“This okay?” he asked breathlessly after retrieving his tongue from your mouth.

You instantly missed it, but nodded. Pushing back from him, you took it upon yourself to slip the straps of your dress off your shoulders and pulled the top down, allowing your tits to spill and bounce free.

You were used to boys ogling your chest, had gotten very positive reactions when revealing them. You were proud of what you had. But when it came to Yoongi, you guessed he had seen a lot more tits in his life than the younger men you were used to hooking up with. Thankfully, you didn’t have time to let insecurities get inside your head, not with the way his eyes widened ever so slightly as he cursed:

“Fucking hell.”

“You like them?” you mirrored his question from before, grabbing your own tits and squeezing them together.

Yoongi’s hips rutted up into you on pure reflex and you bit your bottom lip to stop a louder moan from escaping you.

“You’re driving me crazy, you know that?” the man finally acted as you let your tits go to tangle your fingers in his hair again. His swollen lips touched your collarbones and both of his hands held your breasts. “Been teasing me all night with this fucking dress.”

“Yoongi–”

You moaned his name as his pretty lips wrapped around one of your nipples and you cursed the car for being so dark so you couldn’t really see his face as well as you wanted to. But you could feel his tongue swirling around the bud, the scrape of his teeth, and you could hear the sucking noises mixing with your own pants.

Both of you froze when another car drove by, his head lifting to look around as your heart sped up incredibly fast. It was enough to break the daze you were both under, the reality of what you were doing and where you were doing it hitting you right across the face.

For a second you saw something akin to doubt crossing Yoongi’s face and it terrified you that he’d tell you to leave. What he said, though, lit up a whole new fire within you.

“Wish I had all night to fuck you, but–”

“I know.” your hand rushed to the buttons and zipper of his pants, lifting your hips from his lap so he could push them down to his knees alongside his underwear. “I don’t mind if it’s quick.”

Yoongi didn’t want this to be quick, he didn’t want to rush it. He wanted to take you in every position imaginable, over and over again until he ruined you for anybody else. He was going to hell anyway, and he did not want to think about his conscience tomorrow morning –when he was sure reality of what you were doing would hit him like a fucking wrecking ball–, but his future was doomed anyways.

He just didn’t know how much.

You didn’t seem to have a problem with rushing, apparently, as you were balancing yourself in one leg, back pressed to the roof of his car as you pushed your underwear down your legs, letting them pool at your ankles.

“Fuck.” he was cursing again, hand wrapping around his throbbing cock.

Yoongi felt like a horny teenager all over again, only he was too damn awkward back then to have many experiences like this one. Someone like you would never have looked his way back then either.

“Oh god, you’re big.” you were saying as you sat next to him on the backseat of the car.

“Bet you say that to every guy.” Yoongi teased, finding his voice again. He leaned closer to you, lips chasing yours.

You let him kiss you for a while, a new rush of slick flowing between your thighs with each new flick of his tongue. Even with your eyes closed, your small hand found his thigh, following it up until you found his cock. Yoongi groaned into your mouth as he let you keep the hold of it, palm rubbing at the head and spreading the pre-cum up and down his shaft as you stroke him languidly.

“Only when I mean it.” you hushed, taking his bottom lip between your teeth and biting lightly. You let it wobble back into place before saying: “Really want to suck you off. And I don’t think I ever meant that before.”

“Next time, I promise.”

If you were being honest with yourself, you knew there wouldn’t be a next time. You could hardly even believe this was happening right now, let alone a second chance of fucking the hottest professor of SNU. But you’d take what you could get and if a quickie at the backseat of his car was all you had, you’d make the most of it.

“Do you have a condom?” you asked him, ignoring the stubborn butterflies in your stomach.

“If I have a– oh, shit.” Yoongi looked pained enough for you to know he didn’t have any protection on him.

“Really? Don’t guys carry it with them at all times?” you mused, arching an eyebrow.

“I wasn’t really planning on fucking anybody tonight.” he scoffed, making you bite your lip.

“Aww, is that not why you called me over?”

You fake pouted and his snort was cut off with the way your hand sped up its movements on his cock. Yoongi’s head fell back and you never saw a more delicious neck, or heard a more delicious whine.

“I have one, hang on.”

Reluctantly, you let his cock go, leaving it heavy and leaking resting against his lower stomach. You had to lean over the console of the car to reach your bag, ass practically on Yoongi’s face as your hip was stuck between the two front seats. Getting the damn thing was almost impossible with the way Yoongi’s hands went to your thighs and his face leaned in to lick between your folds.

You had no warning, letting out a cross between a gasp of surprise and a moan of pleasure.

“Stay like this for a bit.” he asked with a mumble. “Gotta taste you.”

Yoongi held your hips in place as he lapped slowly, licking your pussy and sucking on your lips. Your position wasn’t the most comfortable, but you balanced yourself as best as you could, wanting to rock on his face to have more of whatever he was willing to give you.

When his lips wrapped around your clit and really sucked, you bit your lips to stop a cry from being too loud.

“Yoongi, I need you, please.” you somewhat begged.

“Come here, baby.”

He gave your ass cheek a kiss and held your hips harder to pull you all the way to the backseat again. It wasn’t fair how your mind was swimming in bliss from that pet name alone.

“Here.” you handed him the square packet and let him rip it with his teeth as you settled on his lap again.

“So you were planning on getting fucked tonight?”

You shrugged, ass on his knees as you watched his deft fingers roll the transparent latex down on his cock.

“It was a hard week. Professor Hwang was really on my ass.” you said and scooted closer to Yoongi once his job was done. “And not in a fun way.”

Yoongi laughed heartily, shoulders shaking as he held you up to hover over his cock.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.” his lips touched your chest again, tongue searching for a nipple as his hand brushed the tip of his covered cock between your folds. Yoongi dragged it up and down, flicking your clit to make you tremble. You couldn’t take this teasing anymore, taking him in your own hands and lining him up with your entrance. “Wait, let me prep–”

“No time.”

Yoongi watched you shake your head and he felt the way his tip breached your little hole. It was a sensory overload; you felt so fucking tight around him, the noise of your cunt swallowing him little by little was obscene, the whole car smelled of sweat and sex.

He could tell you were putting on a brave face, but his eyes were used to the dark by now and he could see the frown on your forehead, the slight tremble on your thighs as you tried to pace yourself.

“You’re doing so well.” he praised, soothing you with gentle kisses on your breasts and soft squeezes to your ass. “Just a little more.”

“Not a little more–” you breathed in sharply. “Too big…”

“Shh, it’s okay, baby.”

It was your own fault how much the stretch was stinging, Yoongi had offered to prep you. But you were stubborn and impatient, and each minute you stayed there was a minute too long. You didn’t plan on saying anything, but the campus security guard was famous for doing his rounds and making sure students weren’t doing anything illegal.

And fucking inside a car, in the middle of the street, was definitely illegal.

You hugged Yoongi by his neck, chest against chest, and bottomed out. Yoongi was thick and long and you knew he must be as pretty as the rest of him. It was a shame you wouldn’t get to see more of him; he still had his shirt on, for fucks sake.

Resting your head against his shoulder, you took deep breaths, willing your pussy to get used to the stretch quicker. You needed him to move, you wanted him to pound you into next life and you really fucking needed to cum. You didn’t lie when you told him you had a long week; all the pent up stress and the many hours of sexual tension tonight were driving you up a figurative wall.

“‘m good.” you told him.

“Don’t lie.”

“Don’t care.” you lifted your hips and sunk down again, whimpering the discomfort away. “Just fuck me, Yoongi.”

“Remember that if you can’t walk tomorrow.”

His warning was a contrast to the way his hands grabbed your ass again, keeping you in place as his hips started moving to fuck his cock into you. He started slow, but hit deep. The noise of skin hitting against skin was a distraction enough from the pain of the stretch and when Yoongi’s fingers slipped between your bodies to roll your clit, you completely forgot all about it.

You were squeezing him, moving in sync with his thrusts, alternating between bouncing up and down and rolling your hips. When you took control of your movements, rocking back and forward, Yoongi’s head fell backwards again, resting on the backrest. His long hair was sticking to his slightly damp skin and you just had to finally kiss his beautiful neck.

You leaned in with purpose, moans being muffled by his skin as he took control of fucking you again. You covered his neck with open mouthed kisses, licking his salty skin, feeling his pulse under your lips. You kissed your way up to his ear, never having noticed before how he had two earrings dangling from his lobe; usually hidden by his hair.

Taking them into your mouth, you let your tongue lick around his ear and you sucked on the lobe, pulling on the hoops with your teeth. Yoongi was a whiny mess under you, with deep groans and grunts as his thrusts became sloppy.

“Not gonna last long–”

“Please make me cum!” you begged in desperation, which made him laugh.

“Don’t worry, baby.” his fingers found your clit again, rolling and rubbing it quick enough to make you see stars. “If it was up to me, I’d make you cum twice before I did.”

“Fuckfuck–” you were holding onto him for dear life, nails sinking in on his shoulders as your open mouth pressed against his neck so your moans wouldn’t alert anybody outside. “So close, please, please–”

“You’re milking my cock so hard, that’s it… Such a good girl–” Yoongi’s voice was hoarse, words delivered right to your ear as strong arms helped you ride him harder as he abused your bundle of nerves with pinches and flicks.

His name fell from your lips like a prayer as your orgasm hit you hard. You choked up a sob, hugging the man harder, trembling in his arms as you felt wave after wave washing over you. Your release milked Yoongi’s own and you could feel his hips sputtering as a cacophony of ‘ah ah ah’ and heavy pants barely reached your buzzing ears. His swollen cock seemed to expand and throb inside of you, as he spilled into the condom.

“That was so good.” you were more than breathless, whining with a high pitch as you moved off his lap and his softening cock slipped from your cunt.

Yoongi had his eyes closed, head still resting back, not making a single move of getting dressed. You might think he fell asleep if it wasn’t for the slow blinking of his eyes as he fought for his breathing. It was your giggle that brought him back from whatever dimension his orgasm sent him to.

“You okay?” you checked and he nodded. “Want me to throw that out for you?”

Yoongi blinked, brain taking a while to catch up to what you were offering. Then you nodded towards his dick, the messy and full condom having no trouble staying on with his natural girth. “Ah, no, it’s fine, I got it.”

“Alright.”

Your smile was so sweet and free of any guilt and responsibilities that it was easy to pretend you were someone he met at a bar and not someone who could potentially ruin his whole damn life if you told anybody about any of this.

Stop.

Not now.

Yoongi just wanted to bask in the bliss a little more, he wanted you to stay a little more, too. Because he knew the moment he was alone in his car, his world would come crashing down on him. But how could he ask you to stay without giving you the wrong idea? Did you even want to stay?

Maybe not, with the way you were pulling your dress back up to cover your chest. He watched with a lump in his throat as you looked around his floor to pick up your discarded underwear, not bothering to put it back on. You reached the front of his car again, picking up your purse and the leftover take-out, ass on full display again, making his cock twitch as he finally removed the condom and tied it up in a lazy knot, rushing to pull his pants back on.

“Good luck with your book.” you were saying as you checked if you had every one of your belongings. “Let me know if you need any help, okay?”

“Mhm.”

“Goodnight, Professor Min.”

Walking out of that car brought a pang to your heart and a coldness to your stomach that you couldn’t really explain, nor did you want to analyze it. Chucking it off to your post-orgasm neediness, you pulled your dress down to make sure it covered your ass, instantly feeling the cold of the night.

Not only was it really late, but the inside of Yoongi’s car was a lot hotter than the outside, and the abrupt change in temperature made you shiver.

The walk to your dorm building was a little shameful, but you didn’t see a single soul as you made it to your bedroom on the second floor. Unlocking the door, you left your belongings on the desk parallel to your bed, walking to the windows to close the blinds as you were ready to pass out from how tired you were.

Yoongi’s car was still there, just as you left it. The only difference is that now the headlights were on. You wondered if he was waiting for something, or just cooling down with the air conditioning.

Not thinking much of it, you looked for your phone and got back to the window, ignoring the texts from your drunks friends in order to type:

To Professor Min [02:11]: I didn’t get lost on the way up, you can go now.

He didn’t reply to your text, but you knew he read it. Looking out the window again, you saw his headlights blinking twice. With a small giggle you clicked the light switch twice as a reply.

A/N: How do we like Professor Yoongi so far? 💜 Let me know.

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