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Nine

💜Fic Pairing: BTS Member x OFC

💜AU/Genre: Dark Romance | Demon Member

💜Warnings: (for entire work; not chapter specific) Mental Illnesses/Troubled Childhood/Alcoholic Parent/Mentions of Domestic Violence/Physical Violence/Stalking/Gore/Mentions of Blood/Sexist Remarks/Derogatory Remarks/Detailed Murder/Murder of an Animal/Language/Adult Themes/Sexual Themes/Mind Control/Telepathy (invading thoughts w/o permission)/Fingering/Masturbation/Manipulation/Alluding at Drug Usage

💜Rating: MA

💜Word Count: 4,032

Chapter Nine

Park Jimin

“Fuck!”

Still seated on the couch, Jimin rubbed his hands down his face. Defeated as his thoughts began to swirl around, a mess of unbalanced uncertainty and a million and one questions. One thing he was sure of was that he’d lost her forever. He knew that the horrid DNA that flowed through him, the connection to who his father was, would eventually cost him everything. He knew that he would never be happy. He was evil, rotten to the core, and didn’t deserve to be happy, not with the crud that flowed through his veins.

The feelings that transferred from Kamryn made his stomach turn. She was so scared. Scared of him, and he didn’t like it. He projected himself as he had in her shower, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to see him. He wanted to reach out and comfort her, but each time he was about to show himself, the fear in her eyes was like a punch to the gut. He really thought it would be okay to eliminate Micah. Not legally, but he assumed she wanted him gone. Didn’t she say he was a waste of space after he admitted that he wanted to kill him? Well, he said he wanted to hurt him badly. Semantics, but death was always his intention.

Jimin couldn’t take it anymore–the terrified look on her face, the way her heart raced, and the way she wanted nothing more than to get away from him. When he knew she’d made it home safely, he tried to sever their connection, at least for the night, not even realizing that he had no desire to try to manipulate her feelings. No desire to make her be okay with his confession. No desire to control her. His eyes flickered, but he could still feel her. Again, he tried, but the link remained. He’d never experienced this before and wondered if his powers were weakening. They weren’t. As a matter-of-fact, he was stronger than he’d ever been and so was the tether to Kamryn. He was too far gone, crumbling and reconstructing in her hands–losing himself while finding something much greater.

Maybe he needed to go stir up some shit between a few humans, to cause a little trouble so that he could feed off of whatever negative bullshit they emitted. Or maybe, he needed to feel the warmness of somebody’s blood splatter onto his skin, to watch it drip from his blade, to breathe in their essence as they teetered at the border of life and death. No. He had no desire to do any of that, which was odd. He didn’t want to do anything if it wasn’t with or for Kamryn. He was starting to realize that no matter his intention, Kamryn would not understand him. Hell, he couldn’t even take Tiara out now, judging by the way Kamryn reacted to Micah’s death. No, she didn’t fuck with her like that, but evidently, murder is ‘not the way we fix our problems’.

Fuck.

He tried again to disconnect the bond, which failed, causing him to dig his nails into the denim covering his thighs. With his frustration at an all-time high, he wanted to scream, to throw something, to punch something, but stopped when he felt her feelings waver.

What’s this?

While unsureness lingered, he could feel Kamryn’s fear begin to dwindle, being replaced by–exhilaration? Flattery? No, happiness? Pride? Acceptance? Whatever it was caused Jimin’s heart to swell, changing his mood instantly, and making him feel that maybe he hadn’t lost her completely. He went from trying his best to climb from the depths of her mind to relaxing on the couch, allowing himself to sink deeper–deep enough to materialize in her room. A part of him didn’t want to, afraid that he would push her away again, but the other said fuck it. She may not have known what he was, but she knew what he was capable of. There was no need to hide it anymore. He wanted to come clean.

He closed his eyes and began to breathe deeply, focusing on moving his astral body. Wanting nothing more than to see her. He didn’t plan to do anything but watch her. When his brain felt like it was tingling, he opened his eyes to see her darkened bedroom. There was a lump under the covers, and he wanted to lie next to her, to hold her, and comfort her, but didn’t, remaining in the dark corner–still and quiet. She tossed and turned this way and that, until she flopped to lie on her back like a starfish in the middle of her bed, staring at the ceiling. His glowing red eyes in the corner caught her attention and she glanced in his direction, did a double take, then clutched her blanket to cover half of her face.

“JIMIN?” She whisper-shouted, sounding more like a cry for help than an actual question, “Jimin, is that you?”

Wait. You can see me?

“Yes, I can see you. What are you doing here?”

“Please, please, Kamryn. Please, don’t be afraid. I’m not here to hurt you. I’m not even physically here. I- I just needed to see you. To check on you. You rushed out in such a hurry, and understandably so, but- I need you to know that I would never hurt you. And I won’t hurt anybody else if that’s what you need. I know you must have questions, and I’ll answer anything,” he rambled on, his voice heavy with desperation. “Please.”

Reluctantly, she uncovered her face and sat up slowly as the blanket slid down her body just a bit. Enough that Jimin could see that she was wearing a cropped shirt with no bra, and those damn nipples of hers taunted him through the thin fabric. He tried his best to look away, aware that his current situation was serious, but he couldn’t help but wonder what she wore on her bottom half.

“Anybody else? So, Micah wasn’t your first body?” Her tone had changed, now, not as timid. Her voice commanded answers, and it made him a little nervous.

He was silent for a moment, but he answered truthfully, just as he’d promised he would.

“No. He wasn’t.”

She gasped, then said, “Oh my God.” She groaned and buried her face into her palms.

“But, but, everyone I took down deserved it. I admitted to you, I am not a good person, but they weren’t either,” he explained.

“And that makes it okay, Jimin?” She continued to stare toward him, glowing eyes the only indication of where he stood. “Those were still human lives you took.”

“No. I guess it’s not okay.” He finally stepped out of the shadows and knelt down at the foot of her bed, unconsciously bowing to her command, both literally and figuratively. Honestly, anything that she asked of him at this moment, he would gladly do. He put his elbows on the bed, and the mattress dipped as if he were there, alive and in living color. He rested his chin on his clasped fists and watched as her eyes widened now with the moonlight allowing her to see him fully. She reached out and softly pinched his cheek to which he closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. And just as quickly, it was snatched away as if he was hot to the touch.

“How are you here? Is this another one of your gifts?”

“Yes. But this is a new one. I’ve never connected this deeply with anyone before, where I was able to project myself to wherever they are. I’ve only been able to do this with you.”

“Only me? Why? Wait, hold on. Back to the topic. The people that you killed–Explain. Why were they bad people? How many lives have you taken, Jimin?”

“A lot. I’ve lost count, honestly. Some of them liked to beat up women. Some were inappropriately interested in children. Others murdered people for no apparent reason.”

“Okay, so you’re some vigilante? But does that not make you a murderer as well? What? You think you’re doing the Lord’s work? My God, and the way you’re speaking, as if it’s no big deal,” she trailed off, shaking her head. The expression on her face looked like she was disgusted with him, but the glimmer in her eyes said something else.

He felt his dick jump. There was something about her sharp words peppered with sarcasm that awakened something within him. He was unsure, but he felt he could hear the hints of potential in her voice. The way that she was speaking made him feel that she could talk down to him. She could degrade him, and he would love it. He had to play this right and not chase her away, but he had to be honest. Honesty seemed to be important to her, and he wanted to please her. 

Jimin chuckled inwardly at her choice of words. “I’m no vigilante, and I’m aware that what I do is far from the Lord’s work. You’re a smart girl, Kamryn,” he said with a smirk. “What do you think I am?”

The slight praise made her flustered, causing her to stammer over her words. “You must be something evil to t–To take pride in ending the lives of others. And your eyes are… red.” She gasped, placing her hands over her mouth as if she was either just noticing them or she was putting more clues together. “You’re the devil.” She didn’t say anything, her body tense while staring into his face, awaiting his answer. Her words made him think of the night his mother said those same words about his father.

Why does he care so much about me? I ain’t nobody.

“You are somebody. Stop saying that about yourself.”

“Oh my God.” She was clearly frustrated. “Stop doing that!”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry. I’ve been trying to separate from you, but for some reason, I couldn’t. Like I said, this is new terrain for me. I’ll keep trying, though, to break it. Until I figure it out, there is something you can do to block me or anyone else from peeking into that beautiful mind of yours. Just hum in your mind. I know it may sound weird, but you’ll be too focused on the melody, clearing your mind.”

“That doesn’t sound weird. It seems similar to what I do when I meditate. I’ll either recite an affirmation repeatedly or make a ‘mmm’ sound to stay grounded,” she demonstrated. “Focusing on that helps to stop my mind from wandering or from random thoughts popping up.” She was quiet for a moment before she asked, “So? Are you? The devil?”

“See, I knew you were a smart cookie. But, no, I’m not. My father is actually a demon. My mother is human, which makes me half.”

“Half human or half demon?”

This was a loaded question. Jimin understood that she was asking which side of himself he would choose. Light or dark? Good or evil? But, would he eventually have to choose in order to be with her?

“As above, so below. As within so without. I’m just me. Darkness has to exist for there to be light, Kamryn.” And he wanted and needed her to be just that. His light. He wanted to learn from her, to be more like her–he needed her to guide him back to humanity.

She cleared her throat and tried to ignore the way her pussy purred from the sound of her name coating his lips. “Is that why you mentioned you didn’t know where your dad was? I remember you saying that you hadn’t spoken to him or your mother in a while.”

“Yeah, that is partially true. I hadn’t seen or heard from my dad since mom and I left home. And I hadn’t spoken to my mom, not because I didn’t want to but because I couldn’t. On the same day that I realized what I was, my dad showed his true face to her, which petrified her so badly she hadn’t spoken a word since that day. Her body went so stiff–it’s like she was frozen in that moment.” He stared at nothing in particular as if he was reliving that night. The pull between his brows relaxed when Kamryn began to speak again, her voice a salve to his trauma.

“Oh my God.” She clutched the thin fabric just over her heart. “Your poor mother. I was so ready to not like her based on what you told me before.”

“Why would you dislike her? You don’t even know her.”

“Sorry if that came out wrong. You’re right, I don’t know her, but I know that she hurt you. They hurt you. It sounds like she’s suffering daily for how she treated you. I can’t imagine what she’s going through, being trapped in a prison curated by her own mind.”

They stared at each other for a long time as Jimin’s mind went into overdrive. New perspectives he would have never considered before presented themselves, raging with the ideologies of his past.

Jimin swallowed past the lump that had formed in his throat. “You know? I actually went to see her today,” he admitted. His words seemed to fly out of his mouth as if the kindness and empathy radiating from Kamryn were pulling them out one by one. In that moment, he felt like he could show her every inch of the grime and dirt that soiled his soul, and she would not judge him. “She is in a nursing home just about half an hour from here, and today, she talked to me for the first time in all these years. Well, she didn’t speak, but she was able to use another form of communication specialists taught the residents. Kamryn, I was so excited and so proud of her,” he gushed. When his red orbs met her dark brown ones, he saw that she was crying. “What’s wrong?” He reached up to swipe the tears away, and she allowed him to.

“It’s just–” her voice broke. “It’s like I can feel you. Your feelings. Yes, you’re happy to have been able to communicate with her, but you’re still so sad. Maybe regretful?”

“Wow. Well, yeah. Mmm,” he stumbled, then cleared his throat, taken aback that she read him so well while also trying to find his words. “She– Umm–” Unable to continue, he laid his head on the comforter, turning his face away from Kamryn. He closed his eyes, and tears forced themselves out and into the fabric. Kamryn reached out to rub her hands through his hair, just as his mother had earlier. He wanted to hop on the bed and take Kamryn into his arms. He wanted to be as close to her as possible, so thankful that she was able to see him. To understand him. To accept him.

“It’s okay, Jimin. It’s okay,” she soothed while still stroking his head when her door flew open. His eyes popped open as if he’d been startled out of his sleep, and he found himself back at home, seated on his couch with tears streaming down his face.

Kamryn Graham

“Kamryn!”

“Where- How? Huh? What?”

“What is wrong with you? What are you doing?”

Kamryn was frozen, still leaning over with her hand reaching out toward the end of the bed. She was still shook from watching Jimin disappear right before her eyes. She quickly grabbed her back, trying to play it off.

“Nothing. My back hurts. I’m just stretching it. What’s up? Where you been?”

Mariah came to sit on the edge of her bed, replaced Kamryn’s hand with her own, and rubbed her hand across the small of Kamryn’s back. “Tae came home today, so I went to have dinner with him and his parents, remember? How was your day? Feeling better?”

“Oh, yeah. How are they?”

“Everyone’s good,” Mariah answered. “You?”

“I’m good, and my day was great, actually,” she said, not realizing Jimin’s influence on her perspective. “Not only did I have great sessions, I got a lot of editing done. Also, Debra called me.”

“Oh, Lord,” Mariah groaned at the sound of Kamryn’s mother’s name. “I thought you said your day was great.”

“I know right?” Kamryn laughed lightly. “But today was different. I didn’t let her verbally abuse me today.” Mariah’s hands stopped as she listened intently. “She called on some bullshit, but I didn’t let her get to me. She was all like, ‘I didn’t call to get an attitude from you,’ so I asked, ‘why did you call then?’. Girl, she was so bothered, she called my whole government name.”

“Holy shit! Not Kamryn Denise Graham! She was big mad.”

“Big mad. She told me I was being disrespectful, and I told her that I wasn’t. She threatened to come up here, and I told her when she’s on her way to remember that we are both grown, then she hung up on me.”

“Whaaaaaaaaat?! What in the entire fuck? What did your dad say? I know she called him.”

“You know she did. At first, he wanted me to concede to her and continue to allow her treatment, but I didn’t take shit from his ass either. I refused and told him about himself. He even apologized, like, for everything, and told me he was proud of me.” She stopped abruptly. She looked at her friend, and suddenly, her bottom lip began to quiver.

“Oh, Kamryn.” She couldn’t say anything else as she watched her friend try to hold back her tears, just nodding her head. Mariah climbed onto the bed, pulled her in for a hug, and the floodgates opened as they always did when her friend comforted her. Mariah swiped her hands up and down her back while hugging her tightly. “Shh. I know, babe. I know.” Mariah held her gently as her entire body quaked with emotion. When Kamryn’s cries began to subside, they pulled away from each other, still holding hands. When Kamryn looked at Mariah, she saw that she was sporting tears of her own. 

“I didn’t mean to make you cry. It was just–  a lot.”

“I can only imagine.” There was a comfortable silence between them before Mariah continued. “There has been something different about you these past few days. I can’t put my finger on it, but you standing up to your parents, to Tiara, hell–you even got me together a little bit. Just a smidge.” They laughed. “But, I am so proud of you. I hope you are proud of yourself, too.”

“I am,” Kamryn choked out.

“Okay, okay… enough before we start crying again. Did you talk to Jimmy today?”

“I did. And I misheard. His name is actually Jimin.” Kamryn chose to omit the fact that she’d gone to his place and ended up practically running for her life just hours prior.

“Mmm.”

“Mmm, what, Mariah?”

“I ain’t said shit. His name is cute, though.” Mariah glanced up to see Kamryn looking at her with narrowed eyes. “What?” She spoke through a chuckle.

“You are saying a whole lot without saying shit.”

“Look,” she said as she shifted to pull her leg under her, “I was having very bad feelings about him, but I may be wrong this time.”

“Mariah,” Kamryn said, dragging her name out. “Don't start.”

“No, I’m serious. I was having very intense negative feelings about him but it’s not like that anymore. I don’t know. I still don’t trust him, and there is a darkness around him, but I don’t feel like you’re in danger or anything. I’m just saying,” she paused, rubbing the backs of Kamryn’s hands. “You’re going to do what you want to do regardless, and I’ll still be here regardless of the outcome. Just… be careful. I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t tell you, that’s it.”

“That’s all,” they said in unison, giggling.

“Okay. I know you’re only trying to protect me, but you gotta let me out of this bubble, Ri. You gotta let me fall and skin my knee sometimes. It just feels like you’re trying to be the mother I didn’t have instead of my best friend. It can be suffocating at times,” Kamryn admitted.

“You’re right, you’re right. You know I have beef with your mom after hearing about how badly she treated you. I wanted to show you the other side of that. You deserve to be treated that way–loved, seen, and supported. I just wanted you to know that you’re loved. I didn’t intend to turn into a helicopter mom.”

“Damn, bitch, you tryna fuck or what?”

“See? I bet I won’t tell you how much I love you ever again.” They laughed.

“Okay, okay. But for real, I do feel loved, seen, and supported. I feel it, friend, and I appreciate you for that. It’s just the constant questioning of what I’m doing, where I’m going, who I’m going with, when will I be back, do this, don’t do that…it’s just a lot.”

“Damn.” Mariah hung her head low. “I didn’t realize while I was doing it, but I do be all in your business.”

“Heavy,” Kamryn stated.

“Alright, bitch. Not too much,” Mariah quipped, then offered a tight lipped smile. “But, I understand. I’ll pull back a bit.”

“Thank you.”

They hugged each other again before Mariah let go, then playfully squished Kamryn’s cheeks, causing her mouth to form an oval shape.

“Alright, whore. Good night. I love you.”

“I love you too, trollop. Good night.”

“Ewww… that’s so ugly.”

Kamryn giggled as Mariah exited, closing the door behind her, leaving Kamryn alone with her truths and her thoughts. Remembering what Jimin said, she began to hum as she laid down and burrowed her body into the duvet. She had to admit to herself that she wasn’t afraid of Jimin and knew that she was never in any true danger. When she ran away from his place earlier, she was only reacting to her body, to her intuition, and the insistent pull to get away. 

There was a lot she had to come to terms with, including the darkness of her own that lingered within. Was she being thirsty, so happy that someone wanted her? Why did she feel so at peace with the fact that Micah was dead and that Jimin had killed him? Why was she so prepared to justify his actions? She dug even deeper and thought about the people around her. She would be a mess if anything were to ever happen to Mariah, but Tiara? Meh. While she wasn’t thinking about nor did she want to do what Jimin does, she wouldn’t care if something happened to her.

When she thought about her parents, her eyes began to water immediately. Their relationships were not the best, but they were her parents. If she had to be honest with herself, she felt that she would be sad and cry if something were to happen to them. Not because they were amazing parents, but due to the loss of what could have been. The finality of the love and care she would never receive from them. Well, after the conversation with her father today, she may be open to nurturing a relationship with him but decided that he would have to do the work and initiate it. Kamryn knew it would be a cold day in hell before her mother fixed her mouth to apologize or change her ways.

Hmm. She stopped humming. Does it ever get cold in hell?

What? That’s random, but I don’t know. I’ve never been.

Never? No summers with grandpa?

Why are you like this? No.

Kamryn continued to ask questions and make jokes, unconsciously comforting Jimin while accepting him for who and what he was. Jimin was delighted by her easy-going nature and effortless banter while he answered her questions honestly. They talked like this, going back and forth discussing everything–from their childhoods to their favorite colors and favorite ice cream flavors, until Kamryn finally fell asleep.

[joonslfttiddie]

j-hope 'Mona Lisa' MV

[joonslfttiddie]

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Hello lovely! I just saw your prompt game and immediately knew what I wanted! Can I please get 1 and 25 with Yoongi?

Title: Your heart or mine?

Pairing: Yoongi x female reader

Summary: An unexpected visit from your roommate's friend leaves you with much more than you bargained for.

Genre(s): friends to lovers / idiots to lovers / smut / fluff / angst

Rating: 18+ Mature (NSFW) MINORS DNI

Warnings: oral (m.recieving) / unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) / swallowed oral cum shot / slightly dry humping / explicit language

Word count: 1.9k

Banner: Me

Beta: @anyamaris and @yoongihan

Author's notes: hope you enjoy Sky!

“Oh, Yoongi,” you state startled, unable to mask your surprise of seeing your roommate's best friend at your door this late in the evening and without an invitation. “Namjoon’s not here at the moment. Did you guys have plans? You want me to call him and tell him off?” You smirk.

He grins that gummy smile you’ve come to love so much, the one that has butterflies flying rampant in your stomach.

“Er, no it's ok,” his eyes flit from yours to the ground, as he stands awkwardly with his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets, “I, um, I'm actually here to see you.”

The butterflies swarm wildly now, making you swallow them firmly down before you open your mouth to talk. Suddenly, you feel very self-conscious about being in your tiny shorts and baggy hoodie, with your hair scraped up messily.

“Me?” you ask, feeling your cheeks flush.

He nods, before adding, “I hope you don't mind?”

This snaps you out of your surprise.

“No, of course not, I'm so sorry, would you like to come in?” You push the door open further for him and hesitantly, he steps in, hovering in the living area like he hasn't been here a thousand times before.

“Did you want a drink or something?” you ask, heading into the kitchen to get yourself a glass of water, desperate to wet your, suddenly, very dry throat.

“No, I'm good thanks,” he calls back.

As you hide for a moment, your heart hammers wildly as you gulp your drink down, hands shaking with nerves. The possibilities of why he's here bounce around inside your chaotic mind. Taking a deep breath and convincing yourself not to be a coward, you return to him, watching as he nervously wrings his hands and slowly paces across the space.

“So,” you start, standing just as awkwardly in your own apartment, and capturing his attention once more, “what can I do for you?”

You don't miss the blush that spreads across his cheeks, the subtle pink shade making your heart beat even faster.

“Well, I um, I've been thinking,” he swallows hard, and your eyes are drawn to the movement of his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with us, and I just wanted to clear something up-”

“Wait–” you cut him off, picturing the last time he was over - you sharing their pizza, sitting next to Yoongi on the sofa and watching them play game - disappointment floods through you at the realisation of what he's about to say, “I get it, you don't like me hanging around you guys all the time. It's fine, I won't crowd you all, and I'll make myself scarce from now on.”

You attempt to hide your dejected tone but are unsure if your acting skills are concealing the sorrow you feel numbing your insides.

“No!” he replies, clearly alarmed. His eyes popping as he strides over, closing the distance between you. “That's not it at all. I like that you spend time with us.” He admits before clearing his throat awkwardly.

“Ok…” you hesitate, mind racing once again, “so what, then?”

He takes a deep breath. “I, I wanted to ask…”

He takes a tentative step towards you, now so close you can feel the heat from his body and you swallow involuntarily, the loud sound filling the thick silence. When you meet his eyes, there's an intensity that takes your breath away.

“I've been sensing something…” he starts, eyes travelling down to your mouth as you lick your lips nervously. “...something between us…” he continues.

Your heart stammers wildly at his words, unable to form a coherent thought with his proximity.

“...and I need you to tell me if it's just all in my head. If it is, I'll leave you alone and never mention this again.” He watches you, picking his nails anxiously as he waits for a reaction. The words die in your throat when you open your mouth to speak, as you pinch your bottom lip and roll it between your fingers, while your mind races for a response.

He reaches out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “So…is it?”

Swallowing again, you manage to whisper out, “Is it, what?”

He smiles sweetly at you, “Is it just in my head?”

This is the moment you've waited for. Your chance to confess and no longer house your feelings secretly inside. But as you stand here, so close you can now feel his breath on your face, there are no words that sound right. Nothing that is good enough. So instead, you simply shake your head.

His eyes light up, that gummy smile forming again. “Really?”

This is your moment, but words aren't enough, you need to show him what he means to you.

Grabbing the collar of his jacket you gently pull him down to you, as you lift yourself on tiptoes to press your lips against his.

There's a moment of surprise, more at yourself for having the courage to do what you've thought about for months. Relishing the softness of his kiss, there was a tenderness in his urgency that mesmerised you. A silent understanding of feelings you couldn't yet put into words.

Before long the urgency grows, as his arms wind eagerly around your waist and lift you off the floor completely. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around him, with a fire in your belly burning so bright all of you is throbbing with a searing heat. His mouth moves against yours hungrily and you respond with hands fisting into his hair as he staggers quickly across the living room. Kicking the door to your bedroom shut as he enters, hands kneading your bare buttocks that are now poking out of your shorts.

Yoongi strides over to the bed, sitting as soon as his thighs touch the edge of the mattress, a frantic mess of hands removing his jacket as he pulls off your hoodie, while you straddle him.

“Wait, wait,” he gasps, pulling away slightly. “I need to clarify something.”

Your body tenses, anxiety plaguing you at the thought of the next words out of his mouth.

He takes a deep breath and hooks a finger under your chin, forcing your eyes back up to him. “I don't want this to be just sex.” He hesitates, watching your reaction carefully, “I am yours wholeheartedly, and I want you to be mine.”

Your heart swells rapidly in your chest, so large it feels ready to explode. The words you've dreamt of are finally being said and this time, you find yourself too.

“Take me, I've been yours for a long time.”

His eyes burn into yours so fiercely it sets your mind, body and soul alight under his doting gaze.

Your mouths connect again, a wild clash of tongues and teeth, as you press your body against his. Grinding your hips down on him, his erection rubs against the perfect spot, and makes you moan against his mouth.

His lips begin to explore your neck, creating a trail of wet kisses that light a fire in their wake.

“I need you inside me, Yoongi,” you whine. “Please.”

You can’t bear to be teased, or to wait to feel him; you've waited long enough.

Taking action, you slide yourself backwards slightly, your hands shaking with excitement as you fumble at his jeans, yanking open the button and reaching into his boxers to set his thick, solid cock free. You pull your shorts aside, and slide yourself down on him, as he pushes his face against your chest, your breasts muffling his groan. As he stretches you open, the feeling, painful yet delicious, only makes you more eager but he holds your hips firmly keeping you in place on his lap, fingers almost bruising the skin.

“I won't last long,” he pants. “I've waited so long for you.”

Placing a gentle kiss against his lips, you begin to rock yourself back and forth. “That's ok, baby, neither will I.”

With every swirl of your hips, he hits the perfect spot inside you, stealing the breath from your lungs as you grow closer to your release.

“Fuck,” he moans, the sound arousing you beyond belief, “you feel so good around me.”

His hands go under your bra, groping your breasts softly and rolling your nipples between his fingers, the sensation causing a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.

You’re so focused on him; on every lust-filled gaze of his that lands on your face and the way his eyes stay focused on your sex as you move; every sensual noise he makes in pleasure, knowing you're the one causing it. And every part of your skin that his hands or lips touch sends electricity rippling through you.

His hands grip at your backside and make their way down to your entrance, fingers touching your slick where he's sliding in and out of you.

“You're so wet for me.” He gasps, bringing a finger up and sucking the arousal off.

Your hips move faster as you chase your end, and you realise how much this quiet man whom you adore enjoys talking dirty.

“Keep going, baby,” he says, as his mouth explores your neck, sending goosebumps cascading down your body.

“You're riding me so good, fuck!” He throws his head back, veins bulging at his neck as it's clear he's struggling to hold on. That sight alone has you coming undone, spasming wildly around him.

“Yes, that's it.” His head snaps forward as he watches you writhe in ecstasy above him. “Come around this dick.”

As your greedy cunt squeezes him with each wave of pleasure, he stares in awe and when they subside, you return back to earth and can focus on him once again. The strained look on his face and the way he's biting his bottom lip shows he's eager to let go.

“You need to come, baby?” you ask, and he nods frantically.

You slide yourself off and watch the disappointment contort his features. His eyebrows knit together, full of sorrow, but his pained expression soon disappears when you drop to the floor on your knees and take him in your mouth instead.

“Oh, fuck.” he cries out, thrusting up inside you, matching the rhythm of your bobbing head. He grabs a fistful of your bed sheets with one hand and the other gently holds the back of your head. “That's it, take all of me, like such a good girl.” he whispers between pants.“I'm-I…don't stop, fuck, I'm gonna come.”

He releases into your mouth, the salty, sweet taste takes over your senses, as rope after rope of the warm, thick liquid goes straight down your throat. When he's empty, you pull yourself off with a pop, making his legs twitch, the sight amusing you, as he throws himself back on your bed. His arms flared out either side of him and breathing hard. You climb up next to him, and watch the movement of his chest as it rises and falls. He looks over at you, grinning, cheeks tinted red.

“Don't tell me you've gone shy on me now?” you say, giggling as you stroke the hair from his face.

He sits up on his elbows, leaning up to gently clasp your chin in his hand as he stares at you. His eyes are full of adoration and awe and it reawakens the butterflies in your stomach, sending them swarming into chaos inside you. He presses his lips to yours, no longer desperate or needy but full of a promise to you.

“I want to show you what you mean to me…” he says, “...all night.”

[joonslfttiddie]

Title: Lost and Found (part 2)

Summary: A new friendship from a night out with friends slowly becomes something more as you try to move on from being ghosted.

Pairing: Seokjin x F!reader

Genre: Non Idol AU/Smut&Angst, Friends to lovers

Rating: M for Mature 18+

Word Count: 18k

Warnings: Vulgar language, profanity, drinking, reader has been ghosted and is going through it, making out with heavy petting, dry humping, Jin likes to tease, a bit of angst.

A/N: Part two of this series, part one here! Thank you to @frenchkisstheabyss for reading along as I wrote, your input is always appreciated and I adore you 💜@pars-ley for the AMAZING banner, and for holding my hand with all the process that went into this💜As always @cafekitsune, your dividers and art are always appreciated and I adore your work, such a fan.

This is the second part to this fic-Tumblr wouldn't let me post the entire thing, so I had to break it up. If you haven't read the first part for Lost and Found, go here.

This is a continuation of Kismet.

God, he’s so handsome…

You can’t help but stare at Jin as he sings, his eyes closed as he belts out those glorious vocals.

This is the third show you’ve been to; the second as Jin’s...girlfriend…

You don’t even realize you’re grinning like a dope until Wooyoung bumps your shoulder to knock you out of your daze.

“Has he gotten to you too?” He teases and you huff at him, trying to keep your face neutral as you roll your eyes.

“I’m really into the music, he’s a great singer, Woo.”  

“His guitar playing is great too, Yoongi has been teaching him for awhile and he’s improved so much.  He used to never play before during shows.”  Jimin adds, and you smile as you glance back at the man in question.

His eyes meet yours over the crowd and you have to fight back a blush, covering your goofy smile by taking a sip of your drink.

You listen and nod along to the guys chatting about friends from out of town coming back soon, pretending to listen to them as you keep watching the show.

Now that you’ve accepted how you feel about him, it’s become harder to ignore the little taunts from the guys. 

Tae’s suspicious look has you paying more attention to the conversation as the show continues.

You know you should tell them soon, it feels weird to hide the relationship from your closest friends.  

For some reason, as much as you want to be completely open about everything, there is a certain little thrill to keeping it quiet over the last week.  

It’s still new, and we’re still exploring this, you think; it's been really nice to have a quiet beginning together without the scrutiny and judgement of your friends.

Not that they would be against anything of course; more so to commit to taking it slowly.

It won’t be like before, you reassure yourself.

This isn’t a secret affair, not like…

There’s a lingering worry deep inside of you that you’ve acknowledged; the fear that this may end abruptly along with an instinctual need to preserve yourself just in case.

Jin’s not like that, he truly likes me.

His understanding and patience only makes that more clear.

It’s crazy what talking openly about your feelings and relationship has done for you.

You smile as you continue to enjoy the show, enjoying how the girls go completely crazy over him.

Oh I know, ladies, I know….

You can’t help but appreciate their taste.

By the time you’re parting ways, it’s gotten late and both you and Jin wave as everyone goes off in their own directions.

It’s quiet between you as you start walking back, stealing glances at one another for a few moments before Jin finally turns to look back where everyone disappeared.

“Ugh, finally-” He says, immediately reaching out to take your hand and tug you close to him.

“Impatient much, Jin?” You giggle, melting into him as he wraps an arm around you.

“You’re so cold…” he observes, wrapping both arms around you as you walk.

“Isn’t it awkward to walk like this?” You tease him, and he just scoffs at you.

“As long as you’re staying warm, nothing is too awkward for me.”  

Heat rushes to your cheeks at his words and you can’t help but stop and turn to wrap your arms around his waist to hug him tightly.

The streets are quiet, and only a street lamp illuminates the area around you as he smiles softly down at you.  

“I feel like we’re two kids disobeying our parents and sneaking around.” You mumble as you press your face into his chest.

“Hey wanna come make out at my place?” He jokes, wiggling his eyebrows at you as you look up at him.

“Actually…yeah.” You respond, and his gaze is drawn to your lip as you bite it in anticipation.

“Say less.”

You let out a loud laugh as he grabs your hand and starts pulling you along in a run.

“Jin!”

“Hey, you offered!” 

Your stomach flips at his excitement, unable to deny your own enthusiasm.

By the time he’s tugging you into his apartment and the door is closing, you’re both winded and giggling as you try to catch your breath.

Before you even finish kicking your shoes off, Jin is enveloping you in his arms and looking down at you with a little pout on his full lips.

You grin up at him as he walks you backwards in his arms, doing your best to not trip as he holds onto you.

“So dramatic-” You laugh, and he squishes his face up as he lets out a little whining noise.

“Wanted to kiss you all night-” he grumps as he leans down to brush his lips over yours.

“Why are you so cute-” You begin, but you’re cut off as he presses his lips firmly against yours.

“I'll show you cute.” He hums as he parts from your mouth momentarily to tumble you both onto the couch.  

“Oof-Jin!” You giggle as he does his best not to collapse his entire weight on top of you.

“Mm, sorry… shh,” his mouth is back on yours before you can protest and your arms instinctively wrap around his neck as he plies your lips open.

He settles himself on top of you, keeping himself slightly hovering over you as he deepens the kiss.  

A shiver races up your spine as his hand cups your cheek, using his thumb to trace circles right beneath your ear.  

A small moan leaves your throat and your legs part in reflex as your fingers tangle into his hair.

His husky moan as he takes a breath has you all but vibrating underneath him before he’s turning his head to come at you from another angle.

Your entire body heats as he settles more of his weight on you, his thighs pushing yours open.  

The sensation of his obvious excitement suddenly pressing into your thigh causes you to gasp into his mouth as you involuntarily clench around nothing.

Your cheeks burn as you feel your panties soak with wet heat, lifting your hips up against him without thinking.

“Oh god-” he breathes out as his lips part from yours, his nose almost touching yours as he looks down at you with those gorgeous chocolate eyes.

The sight of his lust glazed stare has your fingers tightening in his hair and he lets out a shaking groan as he presses kisses to the side of your mouth.

His gaze doesn’t leave your face as he tentatively adjusts his body, using his hips to grind his arousal against your aching core.

“Jin-” Your moan has him halting as his eyes close, wincing as he seems to try to control himself.

“Sorry...I should stop.” His voice is shaking and you can feel him trembling against you.

Swallowing, you tug his hair gently, forcing him to open his eyes, then you lift your hips up against him.

The moan he lets out is downright sinful as his entire body jerks, and his free hand grabs the pillow behind you to clench it tightly.

“Wait...are you…are you okay with…this?” His tone is strained and his words clipped.

“Jin…look at me…” You whisper, combing your fingers through his dark locks.  

You watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows heavily, then his beautiful eyes are on yours.  

“Does it feel good?” You ask him softly, and he nods immediately.

“Yeah?” You take his hand from your face and slowly bring it down to your chest, encouraging his palm to skim over your clothed breast.

“Oh fuck-” He whimpers.

His response only adds to your desire as he licks his lips and his fingers cup your tit.  

You can feel your nipple tighten against his palm, and it’s obvious he feels it as well as his eyes dilate.

You let out your own whine as his erection throbs against your crotch, and you wrap your legs around his and lift your hips up against him.

He buries his face into your neck as he moans out your name, his hips jerking forward to grind himself into you.

“Jin-” You gasp as the friction of your clothes rubs into your clit and your entire body shudders.

“Dont…don’t keep saying my name…like that or-” He keens and you can’t help but say it again.

Suddenly his lips are on your pulse, this tongue tracing the line of your neck and he’s rocking his hips into you.

“Jin…oh Jin…” You encourage, your hand gripping the back of his shirt as he ruts against your clothed core.

“Fuck-” He gasps as he slips hand down under your shirt and pushes your bra from your breast so he can clutch at the bare flesh.

The sensation causes you to let out a lewd moan as you throw your head back and his grunts and groans suddenly fill the room.  

His reaction to you sends your mind reeling, and you can barely breathe as a tense heat builds up in your lower abdomen.  

The bruising crush of his rigid clothed cock against your clit is making you dizzy and you clutch onto his shirt, all but clawing at his back as you feel your impending orgasm threatening to overtake you.

“Oh fuck, oh god, wait-wait-” he cries out yet his hips seem to have a mind of their own and don’t seem to want to wait.

“Jin, oh god…Jin..Jin-I’m- I’m gonna-” You gasp, burying your face into his shoulder as he starts letting out the sexiest whimpers and moans.

Your climax slams into you, tearing through your sanity as bright lights dance behind your closed eyelids.  

A burning heat pools in your panties as his body shudders and jerks against you, his desperate cries and erratic grinding only serving to prolong the sensation as your cheeks blaze.

His lips press into your neck in sloppy, humid kisses as he breathes against your damp skin, and you laugh softly as his body is hit with a fit of tremors randomly.

“Shh…don’t move.” He hums, burying his face into your neck.

“Jin, did you-” 

“SHH!” He says, nipping your neck, causing you to giggle, “Don’t say it.”

“You did..you came in your-” 

His mouth is on yours before you can finish, suppressing your laughter as he attempts to avoid the truth.

“Jin-”

Each time, he’s hushing you with another kiss before you’re both almost crying from post orgasm giggles.

“So hot.” You whisper in his ear as he finally settles on you, pressing his face into your chest.

“Hmm? What is?” He asks, glancing up at you before he adjusts so you’re lying side by side and he’s petting your hair back.

“You cumming in your-” 

“HSSSHH!” He teases, pushing a finger to your lips.

“It’s hot.  I…I think it’s really hot…” You hum, nipping at his finger.

His cheeks and neck get adorably red as he looks anywhere but at you.

“Well..I mean..if you like it…” He grates out.

“I mean, I came in mine too, to be fair.” You admit.

He groans at your words, biting his lip before letting out a raspberry at you.

“Less messy, though.” He pouts.

“I dunno…I’m-nevermind.” You halt, not wanting to get too graphic.

His hooded eyes study you and you have to take a deep breath as he looks at you like that. 

Like he wants to make another mess.

Resist the urge to find out how big of a mess, you chastise yourself.

“I’m sorry if that was too much.” He whispers, leaning in to nudge his nose against yours.

You shake your head, pressing a peck to his lips.

“I…I liked it..it wasn’t too much.  But I should go home soon.  Early mornings for us both.” You remind him.

“Hmm…just one more kiss then…” he whispers, leaning in.

It’s always one more kiss, but you’re not protesting.

“Good morning, beautiful.  Excited for tonight?” 

Jin’s message greets you as you awaken, and you smile and kick your feet.

Even after two weeks of these morning texts, you are still pleasantly surprised by them.

We’re dating, you think, giggling like a schoolgirl.

You’d think I’ve never dated before.

Since that night, you’ve continued on like normal with him; meeting for coffee, messaging, and finally going out to have casual dates.  

Well, “normal” minus the small little make out sessions.

He’s been so patient with you, always noticing when things seem to be getting too heated and you are both grateful and frustrated at his consideration.

Did I shoot myself in the foot with that? You wonder, not for the first time.

You’re definitely very attracted to him, and despite his patience, you are very well aware that it’s mutual.

But you know deep down that if you rush into full physical intimacy too soon, it might stir up some of those worries.

As long as Jin is willing to be patient with me, we can take it slow.

Even though sometimes I want to just toss aside all those silly worries and-

Well...there was plenty of time for that.

You’ve yet to disclose the relationship to your friends either.

More so because Jin wants to respect your wish to go slowly with everything than it is out of fear of their reactions.

But just last night you’d discussed telling everyone.

“I have some friends coming back into town after a long work trip, and I haven’t seen them in awhile.  Would you be up to meeting them?” He’d asked. You’d decided that you’d broach the topic of your relationship with him, deciding that this might be the best opportunity to tell everyone. “I’d love to meet your friends, Jin.  I have a question too…”  “Oh? Is everything alright?” He’d asked, sensing the hesitance in your voice over the phone. “Yes, more than alright.  How would you feel…if we told everyone?”   The silence from the other end gives you momentary panic. “Jin-?” “Are you serious? You really want to? Are you ready for that?” You couldn't help but smile at his obvious barely contained excitement. “Only if you are, I don’t want to rush-” “Let’s tell them. Yes.  Yes, I would love that.  Are you really sure?” “Yes, Jin. I’m really sure.” You’d giggled, then burst into laughter as he made little cheering noises. “I wish I could see you right now.” You’d told him and he went silent for a moment as you heard movement from his end. “Me too, but you have an early morning.  And you’d have me slaving around cooking and cleaning for you again-” “AGAIN? You offered to cook!”  He’d bursted into his ridiculous honking laughter as you’d huffed and puffed at him. “I miss you too.” He finally said, and you’d melted into your bed as he made silly kissy noises into the phone.   “Save those for me for tomorrow, alright?”.   “I have plenty for you whenever you want them.” “Sweet talker.” “Goodnight, beautiful.” He had hummed as you broke the call with your own kisses.

Now in the morning light, faced with the upcoming reveal, you find yourself in panic mode.  

What should I wear?

How should I do my hair?

Oh, I need to shower…is it too early?

Should I-

Your mind races as you rush around, stopping only to have your morning coffee before tearing apart your closet as you reject outfit after outfit.

“Shit,” you mumble, checking the time.  

You have a meeting with one of your editors for the novel you’ve been writing soon.

Tossing a few of the options you’ve picked out into a bag with everything you’ll need for the evening, you grab your laptop and turn to head out.

Jin won’t mind if you need to change at his place last minute, and worst case, your apartment is right across the way if you need anything.

Halting, you chew your lip for a moment before dashing back into your room, digging out your sexiest bra and panty set and some pajamas to toss into your bag.

You never know, it might get late and I might be far too tired to walk home…

Finally you dash out the door, trying not to let your thoughts get too wild, but it’s always better to prepare…

“On my way,” You send to Jin as you dash out of your last appointment of the day.  

Things ran later than you’d expected, but Jin had told you that people weren’t coming over until the evening anyhow.  

Checking the time, you note that it’s only ten past four and you smile to yourself.

You might get some alone time with Jin prior to anyone arriving.

Jin’s incoming text cancels that thought though.

“Yoongi and Tae are already here, Woo and Jungkook ran to grab some things. My friends will be here in a bit as well; I can’t wait to see you.”

Ah well, at least finally telling everyone, you won’t have to pretend anymore.

The smile on your face grows as you imagine the looks on everyone’s faces; you know you’re going to get some ribbing but it’s totally worth it to finally have everything out in the open.

You catch a cab to his place, not wanting to wait on the bus schedule.

You notice Wooyoung and Jungkook walking back as you step from the cab and thank the driver.

“Hey!” You call out, and the two turn to greet you.

“Just getting here?” Jungkook asks, eyeing the departing taxi.

“Yeah, I had a bunch of meetings today, just getting done.”

“Your novel?” Woo asks, and you smile at his memory, you’d mentioned it about a week ago.

“Yeah, it needs to be looked over and then I can take care of any edits and changes.  From the sounds of it, they’re excited about it.” You beam at the two men.

“Well sounds like we need to get you a drink and celebrate!” Jungkook says, ushering you into the elevator to make your way up.

“Sounds good to me, I could use it.” You laugh as they chat about their days.

Your body is thrumming with excitement, you can’t wait to see their reactions to your news.

It’s crazy how you’re more excited over announcing your relationship with Jin than you are over the impending publishing of your book.

When Jin opens the door, his eyes linger on you as you share a knowing look and you have to resist the urge to run into his arms and kiss him.

Soon, you think, very soon.

“Hey come on in, put that stuff in the kitchen.” He tells Wooyoung and Jungkook, and you can hear Yoongi calling out to them.

Jin turns to you and you let out a long breath as he looks at everyone to make sure they're not looking before brushing his fingers over yours.  

He grins at your blush and you give him a glare. 

“Tease. Can I change in your room? I just got out and want to freshen up.” You hold up your bag.

“Of course…want me to come help?” He teases and you hush him with a look over his shoulder.

“Incorrigible pervert.” You mutter as he fakes shock at your words.  

“Fine, fine but later…” he whispers as you brush past him, and he catches your fingers with his momentarily.

You just shake your head at him and disappear into his room to change.

You’ve only been in here once before, when he gave you a tour of his place.

You’d both tried to contain the makeout sessions to his couch, as the bedroom offered far too many opportunities…

Not that it’s stopped a few things, you blush, then shake yourself from your own perverted musings.

While you’re pondering which outfit to wear, you hear the doorbell signalling his other friends showing up.

You grin as you hear some greetings and finally settle on a simple blue dress and sweater, knowing that it’s his favorite color.

You take a moment to step into his connected bathroom and freshen your makeup, smoothing your hair a bit so it’s not too unruly.

Smiling at your reflection, you head out to his room as you hear a soft knock on the door.  

Jin peeks in, his eyes dancing as he looks for you, then he’s looking over his shoulder before slipping inside.

“Jin-” 

Before you can protest, he’s wrapping his arms around you and crushing his lips to yours.

His satisfied little hum has you smiling against his mouth and you give in to the kiss for a moment before reluctantly breaking it.

“You’re pushing it, pal. I could have been changing.”  You chastise him.

“I mean, I was hoping-”

He laughs loudly as you smack his chest lightly.

“Pervert.” You whisper as you go on your tiptoes to give him a peck.

“Your pervert, and I don’t hear you complaining.” He taunts as he pulls you close.

“Hey, you have people on the other side of that door, pal.  Calm yourself.” 

“Fine…” He sulks and you give his cheek a little pinch.

“Is it alright to leave this here?” You gesture to your bag.

“Of course, come on…I can’t wait to introduce you to them as my girlfriend.” 

Your stomach does a little flip at his words, and the anticipation and anxiety of the upcoming reactions has you feeling giddy.

He opens the door and peeks out, then looks over his shoulder to give you a grin.

“Ready?” 

You take his hand when he reaches for you and give him a firm nod, tamping down the nerves threatening your excitement.

He leads you out to the living area, and you can hear voices from the kitchen talking loudly.

Wooyoung’s cackling has you rolling your eyes as Jin tugs you along, and you glance over to see Jimin stepping out of the kitchen.

He opens his mouth, but then doesn’t say a word as he catches sight of your entwined hands.

The look he gives you has you blushing, his eyebrows raised with a cheeky little “oh-ho?” face.

You have a silent back and forth that basically confirms his thoughts and he leans back against the wall with a smug look.

“Hey, since everyone is here-” Jin says, quieting the voices from the kitchen as you walk in.

The rattling of glasses and greetings from the men make you smile, and you have a random passing thought about needing to get some more girl friends in your life.  

Wooyoung’s yapping is cut off as he spots you holding onto Jin and he nudges Taehyung next to him.  

Before you can enjoy their reactions, Jin is drawing your attention to the two men you haven’t met.  

A tall man is talking to Yoongi before he is interrupted by your entry, and there’s a dark haired man behind him rummaging in the fridge.  

The tall man turns his gaze on you and you’re immediately stunned by his serious expression melting into a warm smile as he spots you and Jin.

Wow, they really are all freaking handsome, you think as his dimples pop out.

Ridiculous.

“Namjoon, Hoseok, this is my girlfriend-” Jin starts, but your entire blood supply runs ice cold as the man behind Namjoon turns around.  

It takes you a moment to register Jin’s introduction as your gaze meets the man you thought you’d never see again.

Did he just say Hoseok?

Does he know Hoseok?

Your heart throbs painfully as his eyes register your presence, his stunned expression mirroring your own emotions.

You barely notice the eruption of talking around you from the others as you stare at one another, trying to gather any moisture in your mouth as your brain malfunctions.

What is he doing here? 

Why is he here now, of all times?

Where has he been?

What-?

Despite standing deadly still as Wooyoung grabs your shoulders to shake you, rambling about keeping it secret from him, a violent storm of emotions is warring within you.

Hoseok’s dark, familiar eyes flick over to Jin, then back to you, down to your hands, then back to catch your gaze.

Your hand tightens in Jin’s as he tugs you closer and says something but you don’t hear his words.

What is that look he’s giving you?

Why does he look so pained right now?

Why are you feeling guilty suddenly?

“Hey, is everything okay?” Jin’s voice cuts through your thoughts and you tear your gaze from Hoseok as you realize you haven’t been breathing.

Your head spins as Jin leans down, brushing a strand of hair back as he looks at you in concern.

“What did you call her?” Hoseok finally breaks his silence, drawing your attention once more.

“Jin’s got a girlfriend, I never thought I’d see the day-”

“Finally, fuck, I’ve been waiting to hear you two come clean-”

“I knew it!”

The commotion around you finally gets through as you try to take one breath after another, slowly trying to calm yourself.

“What. Did. You. Call. Her.” Hoseok asks again as he pushes past Namjoon.

Jin lets out a confused laugh as Hoseok approaches and you can feel your stomach tremble in concern.

Oh god, don’t let Hoseok say anything, please-

“My girlfriend.  I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys before, it’s fairly new-” Jin begins.

“How new?” Hoseok asks, his gaze turning on you.

Is he angry?

What the fuck?

“Um.. it’s been a few weeks…” Jin responds, looking confused at Hoseok’s inquiries and tone.

As Hoseok gets near, a waft of his familiar scent hits you like a truck and your entire body suddenly unfreezes as a swarm of confused emotions pummel you all at once.

You don’t hear anything else said as you tug your hand from Jin’s and bolt out of the room, out of the apartment, using the emergency stairs to escape.

Why is this happening?

What is going on?

You barely notice the pain of your jaw clenching tightly, tears stinging your eyes as you run out of the building.

You have no idea where you are going, but your only thought is flight.

The sound of your name coming from behind you only encourages your feet as you sprint off.

Everything was going so well, why did he suddenly reappear in your life?

[joonslfttiddie]

Summary: When one of your closest friends asks you to be his plus one to a big event, the last thing you expected was to end up in a hotel room with a handsome stranger.

Word Count: 10893

Pairing: Fashion Journalist/Model!Hoseok x F!Reader

Trope/AU: Non Idol AU/Angst-Smut

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Warnings: Adult language, vulgarity, dirty talk, protected sex, sex with a stranger, mentions of drinking alcohol, quite a bit of angst, MDNI

A/N: This is chapter one for a larger story. I couldn't help but make Wooyoung the BFF as he's my comfort muse 🤍 Thank you to @frenchkisstheabyss for beta reading this, as always your opinion is so highly valued to me I can't express it.

@pars-ley for the GORGEOUS FREAKING BANNER-also for all the back and forth, as well as beta reading for me...between you and Ty I doubt this would be coming out this quickly. Words just can't articulate what your input means.

@cafekitsune my forever divider queen, ily 💜💜💜

“So I was invited to this event…” 

You glance over at your best friend, rubbing your eyes from lack of sleep.

“Oh yeah? Is it for photography?” you ask him, curious.

Wooyoung perks up, nodding as you give him your full attention.

“Yeah, one of the editors gave me two tickets so…” he looks at you sheepishly, barely able to hide his cheeky little grin.

But you know him too well at this point.

“Wooyoung…you know I don’t like things like that.” you respond, closing your laptop as you lean back in your chair.

“Come on, I need a plus one and you are my best option.  It’s free food and drinks…besides…” he says, eyeing you, “You need to get out of the house.”

You give him a small frown, unconsciously reaching up to touch your messy hair that you’d thrown into a bun earlier before working.

“Well that’s just rude.” you grumble as he comes over to grab your shoulders and shake you playfully.

“Look, I’ll pick out your outfit and everything, all you need to do is show up.  I’ll owe you!” 

Sighing, you reluctantly agree after a bit more coaxing, already regretting inviting him over tonight.

Still, you can’t help but get swept away in his enthusiasm, and you know despite hating the social atmosphere, you want to be there to support your friend.

So that’s how you find yourself, hiding to the side in this massive ballroom, surrounded by people you don’t know, as you watch Wooyoung mingle with people from afar.

Good, I may be able to make an early exit if he’s busy…you think to yourself as you eye the doors off in the distance.

A low voice suddenly breaks you out of your fantasies of being at home, lounging in a bathrobe with no one else around.

“Are you planning your escape?” the husky voice asks, and you glance over at the man who’s taken up residence next to you.

“Is it that obvious?” you ask, assessing him as he glances between you and the door.  

He was long and lean, impeccably dressed in some designer or another.

Wooyoung would be able to pick it out, you think, as you eye the newcomer.  

“Only if you’re thinking the same thing,” he winks, leaning back against the wall as he tilts his head at you.  

You turn slightly towards him, unexpectedly not all that annoyed by the company.

“While I don’t want to slight anyone here, as I believe it’s quite an extravagant party, if you like that kind of thing…I’d much rather be lounging around in my pajamas at home.”  you respond, looking down at the gown Wooyoung had plucked out of your closet earlier.

The red cocktail dress was gorgeous, ending slightly above the knee; understatedly sexy yet sophisticated.  

You’d held onto it from some event or another in the last year and Wooyoung had insisted.  

Your new companion's eyes drift down your frame along with yours, then at his own attire.  

“I couldn’t possibly want to wear anything else but this, of course.” He announces a bit loudly, before tossing you the cutest wink and rolling his eyes slightly.

Then he leans in, whispering, “Pajamas sound heavenly…”

You cover your mouth as a small giggle escapes your lips, surprising you.  

This man has me giggling like a little girl, you chastise yourself, as if I haven’t spoken to a handsome man before…

His dark eyes dance with delight as he gives you a bright smile, causing your heart to flutter a bit.

Damn, you think, what a fucking smile.

“Hoseok. But you can call me Hobi,” he offers.

Blushing, you whisper your name, enjoying how he has to lean in to catch it.  

“So what brings you out tonight?” he inquires after introductions are complete.

You glance back over at Wooyoung, unsurprisingly at the center of all the attention as he regales his friends with some story or another.  

You pick out a few familiar faces and a soft smile teases at your lips.

Hoseok’s eyes dart back up to yours as you turn back, and you can’t help but wonder if he was looking at your mouth.  

Not the place to be getting heated over a handsome man, you think, focusing back on the topic.

Clearing your throat, you finally respond, “I’m a plus one for the peacock over there,” you gesture to Wooyoung, who is currently hanging off a mutual friend.

Hoseok glances over briefly, noting the group, then turns back to you.

“Boyfriend?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.  

Snorting, you wave a hand at him, “No...no…I couldn’t handle half of what that man puts out.  He’s a bit much for me personally.”  

“Ah…” he replies, seeming to relax a bit.

You stare at him curiously, wondering what his reaction is all about before asking the same. 

“And you? Are you here for the event or are you an extra too?”  

He gives you a shrug, letting out a soft sigh, “Here alone, for the event.  Brushing shoulders and all that, but I find myself more interested in one-on-one conversations tonight.” 

Your cheeks heat at the obvious flirtatious tone, finding yourself leaning ever so slightly closer to him. 

“Well I’m in luck then, aren’t I? Good thing I didn’t escape yet.” You say quickly, before you can stop yourself.  

Oh my god, am I flirting? 

His face lights up and you can’t help but take note of the way his cheeks lift to expose the cutest dimples.  

Warmth flares in the pit of your stomach and you find yourself looking closer at him; the man is even more attractive than you first realized.  

Especially with that gorgeous smile.

He appears to notice your close study of him, his smile warm as he returns the favor.  

“Definitely a good thing…” he repeats back to you, and you resist the urge to fan yourself at his proximity.  

Clearing your throat, you redirect the conversation before you start stuttering at this stranger.

“So what is your reason for being here? Work? Or are you some kind of ambassador?” 

He studies you, and you swear there’s a bit of disappointment at your attempt to talk about mundane things.

“Work…I write for a fashion magazine.  Luckily it’s a lot of sitting back and people watching, so this suits me fine…but I’d much rather hear about you.” He answers, tilting his head at you in curiosity.

Suddenly, you find your cheeks heating even more, and you hope that it’s not too noticeable.  

Shit…you hadn’t thought about answering that when you’d asked….

“Uh…I…I also write. Novels…fiction…” you stammer out, your voice shaky as you pray he won’t pry.

Yet, those hopes are dashed as he responds.

“What kind of fiction do you write?” he inquires, brows drawing together at your sudden discomfort.

“Smut…” You mumble at him, and he frowns, leaning closer to you.

“What was that-?” he asks.

“R-romance…” you say, heart thumping in your chest from the save.

Oh my god, did I just say smut? Good lord, this man has me flustered!

“Oh…really?” he says, crossing his arms over his chest as he nods in contemplation, “So what kind of smut?” 

“Well I-” but you stop mid thought, face burning as he holds your gaze.

“Fuck.…” you mumble, then curse yourself for blurting it out loud.

He laughs in delight, his soft chuckle winding you up both in embarrassment and something else a little more…primal.

“That’s quite the mouth you’ve got on you...now I’m curious what else that pretty mind can come up with.” 

Something within you seems to awaken at his teasing; despite your mild uneasiness at this particular topic, you long for this to continue.

Tossing caution to the wind, you decide to answer with your true thoughts.

“You’d be surprised what this mind can conjure up when I’m all alone with a keyboard…” you whisper to him, leaning in just enough to brush your arm against his.  

A thrill jolts through you as his eyes widen, his Adam's apple bobbing visibly as he tenses a bit at your words.

Before you can regret your comment or apologize and retreat, he’s pressing his arm firmly against yours before responding.

“Well now, you can’t say something so tempting and expect me not to ask for an example.”  he whispers, his voice deepening with a sultry huskiness.

Inhaling a shaky breath, you glance around to see if anyone has noticed your interaction.

“Noone is paying us any attention.  They’re all more interested in getting the attention of the elites in the room.” He whispers.

You glance back at him, his eyes locked on you as if you’re the only person in this massive room.

Oh fucking hell, you think, as he runs his knuckle over your bare upper arm.  

You’ve written the word “clenching" so many times but right at this very moment, you swear you never grasped the gravity of what it was like to actually do so.

“Do you ask every woman you come across to talk dirty to you?” You tease, enjoying the way he continues to touch your skin despite the feigned shock on his face.

“Do you curse at every man who asks you to?” He retorts, biting his bottom lip as his eyes flick to your mouth.

Swallowing heavily, you take a deep breath and let it out slowly, attempting to collect your thoughts.

“I can’t say that I’ve ever had anyone actually ask me, let alone someone I’ve just met…” you tell him, wondering where the hell this conversation was going to lead.

His face softens slightly as he examines your features.

“I’ll be honest with you…I rarely attempt to even go beyond small talk with others, let alone…this…” 

The finger caressing your arm stops suddenly as he seems to be contemplating something.

Your stomach twists at the thought of him drawing away, of losing this contact with him but your worries are alleviated as he continues speaking.

“Would you like to go somewhere more private?”

He rushes to add, “To talk, of course.” 

Perhaps it’s the adrenaline coursing through your veins at the insane attraction to this man that causes you to laugh, but you don’t know how else to react right now.

His brows raise at the reaction, and before he can say anything else, you quickly nod at the suggestion.

“Yes…please.” 

Another laugh bubbles up from your throat at his shocked reaction, as if he expected to be rejected.

Before you can regret your answer, he’s pushing off the wall, glancing around before turning to hold his hand out to you.  

“I…have a room here for the night…” He offers.

“To talk, of course.” You respond.

“Of course, for…research.” he shoots back as you settle your hand in his.  

A shiver courses through you as his long fingers entwine with yours, allowing him to lead you to the back of the room and down a corridor.

You spare only a glance at Wooyoung before you disappear from the event entirely, hoping he won’t mind your absence.

Your heart flutters in your ribcage as you ponder why in the hell you’re going somewhere alone with a man you just met, but all of your reason seems to have fled tonight.

Yet you can’t deny that this is much more interesting than sitting around in your bathrobe, writing about it.

Your stomach is tight with anticipation and anxiety as the trip from the hall to the elevators then to the corridor to his room is silent.

The motion of his thumb caressing your fingers is all that keeps you from bolting back into the safety of the party, but you know that you would regret that fully if you did.

He produces a keycard and leads you into his room, and as the door shuts behind you, your mind is already made up.

Whatever happens, happens.

It has been ages since you have even been on a date, let alone anything physical…

And maybe this is just to talk, as he said…

His room is a suite, with an open-plan sitting area, a small couch and coffee table, the large king size bed looming in the background.  

The long ceiling to floor windows are wide open, curtains pulled back to display the city lit up brightly below.

He leads you to the couch, reluctantly releasing your hand as he looks up at you expectantly.

You hesitate a moment before seating yourself beside him, clasping your hands together to stop him from seeing your tremble.

Mistaking your gesture, he rushes to fill the silence.

“If you get uncomfortable, please don’t hesitate to say as much. The last thing I want to do is-” 

“I’m not uncomfortable. I mean, at least not in a bad way.” you blurt out, cutting him off.

You swear if your cheeks heat any more than they already have tonight, your skin is going to melt off.

His face lights up as he places a hand over his chest, letting out an audible breath.

“Thank goodness, I...I really do want to get to know you better.”

You glance around once more before attempting to get more comfortable on the couch, turning towards him as you cross your legs.

You don’t fail to notice how his eyes dart to your legs as the skirt rides up slightly and the flush that’s visibly creeping up his neck.

Oh this is so dangerous, you think, yet it’s also the most exciting thing that’s happened to you in ages.

He angles himself towards you as you brush your skirt over your knee, trying to hide your smile as he quickly averts his eyes.

“So…do you enjoy writing?” he asks softly, as he leans back against the cushions, resting his elbow on the back of the couch and props his chin on his palm.

Taking the cue, you also try to relax back into the comfy sofa as you finally give him your full attention.

“I do…quite a lot.  I failed to mention that I am also an editor for other writers, but I split my time between that and my own work.” 

He just holds your gaze as you speak, seemingly fascinated with each word you utter.  

It was quite the thrill to have someone so close, so interested…and so gorgeous. 

“Do you enjoy your work?” You return, not wanting to only talk about yourself.

He takes a moment, glancing off as if to ponder the question.

“Hmm…at times.  It can take over my life sometimes, honestly.  The amount of research and travel involved sometimes can be overwhelming.  But…” he lets his eyes drift back to you, lips curling softly as he pauses, “sometimes I get to meet interesting people.”

Your stomach flips as his tone drops, sensing that constant underlying tension drawing you closer to him before you can stop yourself.  

It’s as if each moment requires an inch to be removed from between you.

“It’s quite the opposite of my work then,” you laugh breathily, “I spend most of my time imagining encounters…like this…” 

Your words trail off as the back of your neck heats, already wincing at your comment.

His eyes widen slightly, brows raising as a smile dances across his lips.

“Oh? And…if you were to be writing … this specific encounter…what would happen next?”  

Your breath hitches, mind racing at the question, at the implication, at where this could be leading…

“Well…I suppose I’d have to check my notes, answer some…questions first before proceeding.” You finally reply, enjoying the gleam of interest in his eyes.

“What kinds of questions?” His soft yet hoarse tone has you clenching your thighs together, “Perhaps I can help answer them.”

Good lord, this man is making me lose all of my sanity.

“Well…” you take a moment to think, biting your lower lip, “first, has he been drinking?”

“Not a drop.”

“Mmm..then…does he always bring unfamiliar women back to his hotel room?” 

His brow twitches, his gaze drifting to your mouth, then back up.

“This is definitely his first time doing anything so bold.”  

Your heart races at this admission, spiralling your senses further into losing all rationale.

“Well, for…her…she’s never done anything as daring either so…I’d have to ask why this man even spoke to her to begin with; what is it he is looking for?”  

His tongue darts out, wetting his lips as his eyes hood over, letting his gaze drift openly over you before answering.

“At first, he was curious about why such a beautiful woman was all alone, hiding among the plants at such an event…but after speaking to her, he couldn’t help but long to know more.  Away from all of the eyes lingering on her, so his were the only ones who could study her more closely.”

Your entire body tightens at the compliment, the quivers from being so tense threatening to give away how much he’s affecting you.

“And does he…regret the decision?” you can’t stop your voice from wavering at the question.

He brings his hand up to gently tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, then he traces his knuckle down your cheek.

“Quite the contrary, he’s as mesmerized by her mind as he is by her beauty.” 

At his touch, your lips part, and it takes everything within you to not let out the most wanton moan at the simple contact.

“I’m curious to know why she allowed herself to be all alone with this man, despite having all these questions.” he follows up, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.

Feeling emboldened by his answers, you lean in closer until you swear you can feel his breath tickling your lips.  

“Perhaps she’s curious as to why this handsome man chose her to speak to…and what it is that's so tempting about him.”

His hand slips up your jaw, opening to cup your cheek as his breathing noticeably hitches.  

“She’s tempted?” He asks, barely audible.

Your heart trembles, stomach swirling with butterflies as he dips his head ever closer so that you can almost feel the brush of his lips.

As if he’s waiting for you to be the one to close the final gap.

You give an almost imperceptible nod, your own hand reaching up to flick back a lock of his hair before tracing your fingertips along his gorgeous cheekbones.

“She can’t stop thinking about what her particular shade of lipstick will look like covering his sexy-” you breathe out.

Before you can continue, he lets out an impatient little grunt as he grasps the back of your neck, pulling your mouth against his.

Your fingers slip down his throat and you can feel his pulse beating quickly against your thumb as it rests on his neck.  

Your lips part eagerly for him as his tongue traces the seam of your mouth, and finally the whimper you’ve been holding back bubbles up out of you.

This only urges him on as he nips your bottom lip, sucking gently as he slowly guides you onto your back.  

Yes, yes, yes, your mind screams as he deepens the kiss, using his legs to part your thighs.

Your fingers delve into his hair, clutching onto the strands as he breaks from your mouth to pepper kisses along your jaw.

“Please-” you say, not exactly knowing what you’re asking for but he complies anyhow, slipping his hand between you and tugging up the skirts of your dress.

He halts momentarily and concern suddenly twists up your insides as he rests his cheek against your collarbone.  

“Is something-?” you manage through your throaty breaths.

“No-no-” he interjects, looking up at you as his palm grazes against your naked inner thigh, “-I just…want this to last…and you’ve already got me-”

He doesn't bother to finish the sentence, shuddering against you as his fingertips slip beneath your panties.

A wave of heat washes over you as he lets out a long, deep moan.

A confusing mix of bashfulness and exhilaration threatens to overwhelm you from just the pads of his fingers teasing over your drenched folds.

You can’t look away from his stunning face, his eyes fluttering closed as his lips part to let out the most delicious little noises as he explores you.  

Doing your best to hold back your own whimpers, you clutch at the couch cushion above you as your fingers cling to the strands of his hair in your hand.  

“Fuck-you’re killing me with how wet you already are…” he breathes against the skin of your chest, “Don’t hold back, I want to hear you-” 

Your hips lift as his fingers part your lower lips, skimming upwards agonizingly slow until he finds what he’s looking for.

“Mmmm-yes…” he murmurs as you finally cry out as he rolls your clit gently between his thumb and forefinger.  “That’s it…you like that?” 

You nod frantically as he focuses intently on drawing out your pleasure, each tiny motion of his deft fingers causing your body to arch and shake.

“Yes, oh god-” You finally whimper, “Hoseok-” 

He draws away from you slightly, angling himself so that he’s hovering above in order to look down at you.

“Talk to me, baby-” He coaxes, his eyes flicking down to take in the sight of you spread wide open with your panties pushed aside.  

“So good, oh god…don’t stop-” you blurt out, scrambling to articulate the most basic words in the haze of desire you’re trapped in.

You release the cushion you're gripping, grasping at the back of his neck, then tugging at his suit jacket as he looks between your face and his fingers teasing at you.

“What is it, baby? Tell me what you want-” he encourages, his honeyed cheeks flushing with heat as his gaze locks on your cunt.

The rasp of his voice has you clenching tightly and he gasps softly at the sight, causing you to cover your face in embarrassment.

“No, no no…don’t you dare…” he hums, his dark eyes locking on yours as he pulls his hand from you to grip your wrists and tug them gently away from your face.

Your breathing is coming shallow and hard as he pins you down, searching your face before leaning in to press his lips to yours once more.

Your heart beats in your throat, grateful for the momentary change of pace as he kisses you tenderly.

You take the opportunity to grasp at his jacket and push it off his shoulders, and he helps you remove it, tossing it off to the side without parting from you.  

He slides his hands behind your back, blindly seeking your zipper and finally he lets out a happy sigh into your mouth as he finds it and tugs it down.  

It’s awkward for a moment as you lean up, doing your best to allow him access to unzip you fully, then tug at his tie and the buttons of his shirt.

“Fuck this.” he finally says, propping himself up to stand, then tug you up off the couch.

You stumble a little before he pulls you close, his mouth already on yours as he slides your dress off of you, allowing it to drop to the floor.

You return to plucking at the buttons of his shirt as he walks you both backwards, your dress left behind in a heap as his hands slip down to your ass to squeeze your cheeks greedily.

“Rip it off-” he demands between kisses, one hand sliding up your spine to pluck at the clasp of your bra.

You comply immediately, yanking at his shirt without a second thought, a satisfying tearing sound quickly drowned out by both of your gasping breaths.  

You waste no time in running your fingers along his lean torso, his skin raising against your palms as you slip them down his stomach.  

He inhales in a sharp hiss as you boldly drop your hand to grope his erection through his pants.  

“Off-” he groans, doing his best to guide you back to the large bed behind him without bowling you both over.  

You nod as you feel your bra finally loosen, shrugging out of it quickly before tearing at his belt, then the button and zipper of his pants.  

The back of his knees hit the bed and you use the momentum to push him onto it, grabbing at the pants and yanking them off.  

As you throw them onto the floor, you pause to admire the ridiculously gorgeous man before you, clad in only a pair of boxers that are tented by his quite obvious arousal.  

Am I really doing this? Fuck yes I’m doing this, you think wildly as he reaches for you.

“Come here,” he pants, grabbing you behind your thighs to pull you onto the bed with him.

You can’t help but let out a strangled laugh as you tumble onto him, tits smacking him right in the face as you land on top of him.  

Before you can even voice an apology, he’s latching onto your nipple as he scoots you both up the bed.  

Your legs entwine with his as you grip his hair, his stiff cock grinding into your inner thigh as he rolls you onto your back.

A cry escapes you as he sucks harshly, drawing back to look at the raised bud before he uses the tip of his tongue to circle slowly as he looks up at you.

A rush of warmth floods your thighs as you feel his body press into you and you gasp as his dick slips from the opening of his boxers to connect with your naked flesh.  

“Fuck, fuck-” he chokes out as you push them down, looking between you as he wiggles free off them.

He sits back on his heels, yanking your panties down your hips, and you raise your legs to help him remove them.  

“These are mine now.” he says, bunching them up in his hand before bringing them to his nose to inhale deeply.

The reaction to this has your entire body flushing with heat and a strangled whimper rips from your throat before he’s pushing your legs open to settle between them.  

He reaches over to place your panties on his bedside table before returning to hover over you.  

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he whispers as you clutch at his shoulders, looking down between you as he rocks his hips to rub the underside of his cock along your damp slit.  

You arch your back at the contact, moaning desperately as the head rubs against your clit over and over.

“Hoseok-wait-protection-” you gasp out, placing your open palm on his chest before you can lose yourself completely. 

“Fuck, right, yeah-” he blinks, eyes wide as his breathes heavily, then he’s yanking open the drawer in the sidetable to dig through until he finds a familiar foil packet.

You relax slightly at this, one less worry as he rips it open with his teeth and then pulls out the condom.  

“Here-” you offer, taking it from him eagerly in order to put it on as he props himself above you.

You admire how pretty his curved cock is as you roll it down him, looking back up at him as you wrap your fingers around him to stroke him slowly.

His eyes close at the motion, thrusting into your hand before he’s dropping down onto you and his tongue is in your mouth once more.  

“Tell me you want me,” he moans against your lips, his voice shaking with need as the tip dips between nudging your clit and teasing at your aching hole.  

“Please, Hoseok,” you moan out, wiggling beneath him to urge him to finally give in to you, “Fuck, please, I want you so fucking badly, it hurts-”

“Yeah?” he whispers, using his thighs to push your legs further open, “Say it again, say my name, beg me-”

“Hoseok, please, oh god, please…fuck…I want-I need-!” you cry out, your nails digging into his shoulders as you writhe beneath him.

His breath catches at your pleas and he pushes forward slowly at first, but as you let out a long, drawn out moan he drives himself deep within you.

You clench around him and he brushes his lips against the shell of your ear, his heavy breathing just heightening the pleasure as he pulls back just to thrust back into you.  

“Baby, you feel so fucking incredible,” he hums in your ear as you wrap your legs around his waist, tilting your hips as he sets a steady rhythm.

Your breath keeps catching with each thrust, and every single nerve ending in your body is on fire as he coaxes the most obscene noises from you.

“Hoseok-” you whine, a soft keening noise underlying every word you speak, “Harder-feels so good…please…fuck-!”

A pleased groan rumbles in his chest as he fists his hand in your hair, gently tipping your head back to press his lips against your throat.  

The wet, slapping sounds of your bodies meeting makes your cheeks flare with heat, but you could care less right now as he continues to ply you with breathy questions. 

“Right there, baby? Yeah?” he asks as you gasp, rolling his hips so his pelvis grinds against your clit, “You sound so fucking good with my cock deep inside of you-” 

A string of unintelligible curses leave your lips and you can feel him smile against your neck as he continues to repeat the motion over and over.

“That’s it, let me hear every filthy word while I fuck your pretty little pussy,” he croons in a raspy tone, pulling away to look at you.  

Strands of damp hair cling to his forehead as he gazes down upon you, his pupils entirely blown out as he drips sweat onto your tits.  

You’ve never seen anyone or anything so absolutely sinful, and your body arches off the bed as an orgasm rips through you unexpectedly.

“Oh my god, fuck, yes, yes, fuck, come for me-” Hoseok gasps as you clamp around him, gritting his teeth as he struggles to keep up the tempo.

The walls echo your coarse wails, voice breaking as you attempt to reclaim your airways.

He’s unrelenting, however, as he takes this cue to slip one of his hands under your ass to roll onto his back and settle you onto top of him.  

His hands grip your ass as you steady yourself, grasping onto his shoulders as he guides your hips against him.

You let out a shaky laugh as a range of emotions wash over you; surprise, self-consciousness, euphoria all twisted up together.

One of Hoseok’s hands leaves your ass to slip up your side and settle under the weight of your breast, his eyes shuttering as you begin to move on top of him.

“Look at you…so fucking beautiful,” he groans as he palms your breast, grazing his thumb over your nipple as it tightens in response.

His reaction spurs you on, discarding any lingering insecurity as you begin to ride him properly.

He throws his head back with a long moan as you bounce on his cock, and the overwhelming need to feel his tongue has you slipping two fingers into his mouth.

He doesn’t disappoint as he immediately sucks on them, his gaze locked onto you as he swirls his tongue around the pads of your fingers.  

You’ve only ever written something so bold in your fics, yet here you are, living out the most erotic moment of your life.

His fingers dig into your flesh, guiding your body against his as the tension in your core throbs and coils.  

“Talk to me, baby,” he insists as your fingers trace along his lower lip, nipping gently as he stares up at you.

“So hard…to think…” you manage, your body ablaze as he tweaks one nipple, then the other.

His dark eyes are gleaming with delight as each touch, each movement elicits the most pornographic noises you’ve ever made.  

“Is my cock making you lose your mind, baby?” 

Your body jerks as his hand slips down from your tits to where you’re joined, the tips of his fingers teasing over your overly sensitive clit.  

You nod furiously, gasping as he starts circling slowly, drawing out a prolonged wail as you clench in pulses around him.  

“You’re making me-a complete mess-” you gasp out as he continues to add pressure with his fingers. 

“Make a fucking mess, baby, I can feel you soaking my thighs, that’s it-” he encourages, watching you so intently that he leans up, his eyes glinting feverishly.

“Hoseok-god, I want to see you lose control…want to feel you come-hear you moan for me, cover me, all over me-” you babble, just letting whatever thought comes into your mind escape out of your mouth.

“All over you, baby? Is that what you want?” he breathes out, his voice shaking enough to let you know he’s getting close.

You’re right there with him, nodding as he sits up fully, grabbing your hips to urge you towards your building climax.  

“Come for me, baby, and I’ll give you everything you want, come on, that’s it-” he hums, brushing your lips with his as he bounces you in his lap.

Your entire body shudders as he bites your bottom lip, groaning loudly as you cling to him and everything within you crumbles.

His name falls from your lips over and over, breaking off in hoarse cries as you tremble in his arms.  

His groans build in volume, breathing coming quicker as he holds back enough to let you completely finish before he’s tipping you backwards, pulling out and yanking off the condom as he positions himself on his knees between your legs.

“Come, come, come-!” you demand, aftershocks still causing your body to shake as he wraps his hand around his cock and jerks himself into completion all over your stomach and breasts.

You grip the bed above you, trying to catch your breath as sticky ropes of cum spurt from him, reveling in the obscene sight this must make.  

His body shudders and twitches as he slows his movements, his fingers slowly milking every last drop onto your naked skin before he collapses on top of you. 

Your fingers immediately tangle into his hair, your chest heaving along with his as you both attempt to recover.

Your combined panting finally slows enough to let silence fill the room, your eyes fluttering closed as he nuzzles his face into your neck.

Peace washes over you, and you barely register the passage of time until you feel Hoseok pull away gently, not even opening your eyes as you pout at the loss.

“I’ll be right back,” he whispers softly before he slips away, and you hear the rush of water from the other room.

Must be cleaning himself up…you think idly, but you’re shaken from the thought as a warm cloth drifts over your skin a few moments later.

You open your eyes slightly to peek at him and your heart leaps into your throat at the sight; he’s seated on the edge of the bed, gently cleaning you up and giving you a warm smile.  

“Shh, relax,” he murmurs, shaking his head as you attempt to cover yourself with your arms.  

You shiver at how sweet he’s being, at how his eyes linger on each part of your naked body as he takes his time with the cloth.  

“Don’t tell me you’re going to be shy now…” he teases as you cover your face with your hands to hide your blush.  

You feel him get off the bed, following his movements around the room through your fingers as he wanders back into the bathroom, then sets about picking up your discarded clothing.

Sighing inwardly as he slips his boxers back on, you feel your heart flutter as he picks up your dress delicately and drapes it over the back of one of the chairs.

This is my cue, I suppose…you think, sitting up to toss your legs over the side of the bed.

As you stand and look around for your bra, his voice draws your attention.

“What are you doing?” he asks, tilting his head at you as he smooths his hand over the fabric of your dress.  

“Um…finding my…clothing?” The statement comes out as a question, confused as to why he is asking.

You turn to spot the panties on the nightstand, but as you reach for him, he closes the distance between you and grabs your wrist lightly before you can retrieve them.

“I told you..” he hums, bringing your knuckles to his lips, “Those are mine now.”

Your breath hitches as his lips brush over your skin, and his lashes flutter as he slips an arm around you.

Swallowing heavily, you try to refocus your mind on reason but this man has already got your emotions scattering as he pulls you close.

“I..I figured that was my hint to leave…” you whisper, glancing at the dress, then back to him.

His face is unreadable as he studies you quietly for a moment, his eyes darting back and forth as he looks into yours.

“I won’t stop you if you do, if that's what you want, but…” he trails off, the arm around you tightening slightly, almost…posessively. 

“But?” you echo quietly, longing for him to say the words you wish to hear.

He hesitates briefly, then leans in to nudge your nose with his.

“But…I’d really like it if you stayed with me.” he finally admits, and your stomach does a complete somersault in joy.

“Alright.”

“Alright?” he repeats, as if he needs to double check.

“Yes, I’d…really like that too.” 

His face lights up with that gorgeous smile for only a moment, then his lips are capturing yours in a searing kiss as he urges you back onto the bed.

“Perhaps I’ll keep you up all night…” he whispers seductively, removing his boxers once more before burying his face in your-

“Hey, are you even listening to me?” Wooyoung complains, snapping his fingers in front of your face. 

“Eh? What?” you ask, shaking yourself from the memories of that night, focusing on your friend.

It has been two days since your encounter and you still find yourself wandering around in a daze, idly staring off in remembrance.

What kind of school girl hell crush is this? you think for the nth time, shaking yourself from your fantasies.

“Did you even hear what I said? What’s got you so lost in thought, hmmm?” He prods, bumping your shoulder with his, “Or should I say…who?”

“Stop, you’re going to make me spill.” You chastise him, grabbing a napkin to wipe at the drip from your full coffee cup.

“You need to be spilling, cause something is definitely up with you.” Wooyoung’s eyes narrow at you, always the prying little pest.

But I adore him, you think with an exaggerated sigh.

“I'll tell you…. eventually…maybe…” you try to deflect, but he’s not having it.

“Who is he? Where did you meet? What’s his name? Do I know him?” 

The questions are fired at you like bullets and you wave at him as he leans in closer to interrogate you.

“None of your business, nosy.”

You push his face away, chuckling at the ridiculous pout he gives you.

Your phone chimes, signalling an incoming text message, and Woo immediately goes to grab for it.

“Hey!” You exclaim, snatching it up and holding it close to your chest before giving him a little smack on his arm.

“When do you even go out to-?” he starts up again after a long sip of his coffee.  

Before he can continue, you glance at the clock.

“Don’t you have an appointment?”

“Oh shit, yeah, sorry-gotta run. See ya, doll!” he says, taking a last sip, then planting a harsh kiss on your cheek before dashing to the entryway to toss on his shoes. 

“This conversation isn’t over!” he calls out as the door closes behind him.

You wait a moment longer, making sure he’s actually gone before letting out a weary sigh.

“Nosy ass.” you grumble, then you finally look at your phone in anticipation.

Hope turns to disappointment as you read the text from one of your novelists, talking about an appointment later this week.

“Ah well…” you hum, responding quickly before switching to the text exchange you really want to be having.

You’d intended to leave the next morning in order to not overstay your welcome; but when Hoseok had come sauntering out of the bathroom, freshly showered with damp hair hanging in his face and a simple white hotel towel slung around his lean waist ... .well….

You stand and walk to your apartment window, staring off as you replay the multiple ways his tongue invaded you, all the delicious ways he-

Shaking your head, you snap back to reality, fanning yourself from the recollection.  

You’d finally managed to leave around midday, after tiring yourselves out and a nice, comforting nap in his arms.  

He’d stayed true to his word and kept your panties, hiding them behind his back when you attempted to reclaim them.  

A goofy smile plays over your lips, unconsciously tapping them with your fingers as you think about his stolen kisses even as he teased you.

For some reason, you felt no shame walking out of there and hailing a cab home sans underwear.  

You’d exchanged numbers, and honestly you hadn’t expected much from him, given the circumstances of your tryst.

Yet you’d received a text from him not even two hours after leaving him.

You can’t help but reread the little bits of conversation you’ve had since then, chewing your thumbnail as you scroll through.

“Did you get in safely?”

“I can still smell you on my fingers…” 

You let out a small giggle, turning only to stumble over a chair that you swear wasn’t there a moment ago.

You wander to your desk, sitting and rubbing your knee as you read the last exchange from yesterday.  

“So, when can I see you again?” He’d texted that morning.

“When would you like to?” You’d answered.

“Right now, if I could…but unfortunately I have obligations that I can’t get out of.”

“Then why don’t you message me when you have time, I’m not going anywhere.” You’d responded, heart soaring that he was even considering seeing you again.

“The moment I have free time, I’d like to take you on a proper date…if that’s something 

you’d be interested in?”  

You stare at the question as a smile plays over your lips, resisting the urge to kick your feet like a teenager, but it’s tough not to.

“Rushing into things, aren’t you?” you’d teased and he hadn’t disappointed with his response.

“That’s not what you were saying the other night when I had that sexy mouth screaming my name.”

You toss your phone, ears burning as you clear your throat, looking around as if you’re not the only person sitting around in your pajamas in your own apartment.

“Work! I have to work….” you scold yourself, unable to chase away the silly grin as you try to concentrate on getting your tasks sorted.

A week passes before you are able to solidify a time to meet up with him.

It’s the way he asks that has you tearing apart your wardrobe frantically.

“I need to see you, or I’m going lose my mind.”

Unfortunately, he only has an hour to spare for lunch, but you’re grateful for the opportunity to see him once more.

It had taken an ungodly amount of time to find the right thing to wear, and you lament the cleaning you’re going to have to do once you return home.

It looks like your closet has a bomb go off inside of it as you rush out to meet him.

The way he smiles at you as you spot him in the small cafe chases away any negative thoughts as you rush over to join him.

It’s a simple lunch, and before you can do so much as move beyond simple small talk, his phone alarm is going off.

“I promise I’ll make more time for you, gorgeous.” He whispers as he places a kiss on your cheek, his fingers skimming along yours as he parts from you.

The door chimes as he makes his exit and you’re left with your heart pitter pattering at seeing him in the flesh again.

I’ve got it so bad.

You take the time to grab some things, taking the opportunity while you’re already out so you don’t have to go out again unnecessarily.

As you’re unlocking your door, your phone chimes.

“It took everything to not just say fuck it and spend the day with you.  Soon, baby.” 

You spend the rest of the day with a stupid grin on your face and once more you’re delighted that you live alone so no one can see how foolish you look.

Your friends have definitely started to notice.

Wooyoung makes sense, yet apparently even some of the others have picked up on the change in you.

Hoseok has kept up a constant stream of contact, with some of the late night calls taking a racy turn.

You’re not quite sure what it is this relationship is, but you have zero concern that you’re attracted to one another.

He wasn’t lying when he’d mentioned how busy his job kept him the first night you’d met.  

He is constantly on his way to or from somewhere or other, sometimes even out of town or even the country.  

Yet, he always makes it a point to send you sweet messages, asking about your day, telling you how much he longs to see you again.

Despite the slow, staggered way this was developing, the constant reminders that he was out there, thinking of you has become the highlight of every day.

No longer can you refuse to admit how much you look forward to his daily texts or calls.  

How you stare at your screen, pining for his messages.  

That you’ve even made a special tone just for him in your phone.

Far, far too gone on a man you’ve barely spent any time with outside of the bedroom.

You’ve managed to get little pockets of time together, brief coffee meet ups or small windows of time where he’s passing nearby and you can pop out to see him for a moment.

He’s even come by just to plant a kiss on your lips, only to run off moments later.

Even after two months, you’ve only been able to see one another a handful of times.

The one time you’d gotten longer than an hour or two, he’d insisted that he wanted to take you out and the intention was there.

Yet, when he showed up at your place, you’d both been stripping each other within minutes of his arrival. 

You still can’t look at your table without being reminded of how he’d had you bent over it, plowing into you as his fingers worked magic over your entire body.  

He’d stayed over, but unfortunately, he’d been out the door before the sun had even peeked past the horizon, with promises to message you later and a steamy goodbye kiss.

Only a few visits here and there, yet all over your place were memories of him.

His lips, his raspy voice whispering your name, his agile fingers…

It had taken a half a week for you to finally clean the window where he’d had your body pressed, tits squished firmly and handprints marking yet another place he’d ravaged you.

Unfortunately, you’d had to wash the small blanket you keep on the couch…between his tongue driving you to the point of overstimulation and his own contributions from your efforts…

The man really did love making a complete mess of you…and all over you.

He was insatiable, and you spare a thought for your poor neighbors after the noises that he’d had coming out of your mouth.

Two months and you still aren’t sure what the hell your relationship is.

Each time you’ve thought to ask, you’ve chickened out; the last thing you wanted was to come across as needy and selfish.

At least he’d mentioned that he should be getting a lot more time soon; apparently they were having some issues at his magazine and he’d been putting in extra time to help them out.

Though, you haven’t pried into what kind of work it is, and if it’s related to writing or something else.

That he took the small bits of time he has to seek you out speaks worlds about where this seems to be heading.

“Missing you…I think I left my necklace at your place last time…will you check for me?”

You’d rushed immediately into your room, and sure enough, the gleam of a thin silver chain was looking right back at you from your nightstand.  

You’d admired it plenty of times when he was wearing it, especially the sweet little silver music note dangling from it.

“It’s here, did you need me to bring it to you? Or did you want to stop by for it?”

“Hold onto it for me? I’ll get it next time I see you…”

As you were typing out a response, he’d sent another that had you all but falling from your chair.

“On second thought, why don’t you put it on…then when I see you again, I’ll rip everything from your delicious body except that.  Fuck, baby…just the thought of you wearing only a piece of me has me rock hard.”

You wish you could have been a fly on the wall when he’d received the pic of you lying in bed, sheets draped covertly over just enough to not be straight up porn, clad in only his necklace.

“You mean this necklace?”

His response was almost instant.

“You’re killing me…yes, just like that.  Fuck, I miss you.  Everything about you.”

The playfulness was immediately replaced by a soft, warm feeling at his words, and you found yourself longing to just breathe in his scent again, sooner than later.

You had gently skimmed the charm on the necklace as it lay on your skin, missing him just as much, if not more.

Unfortunately, you hadn’t seen him since that heated little conversation. 

The time between texts had become longer, the messages shorter; mostly just updates about being busy and checking in to see how you were.

That’s why when he hadn’t responded after your last exchange via text, informing you about going out of town yet again, you hadn’t thought much of it.

It was only one morning, feeling more agitated than normal that you realized it had been four days with your last “good morning” message left on unread.

He’s just busy, you admonish yourself, don’t be greedy.  

Yet, when another three days pass with nothing but silence, you can feel the creeping doubts bleeding into everything you’re doing.

You’ve only sent one more text asking if everything is alright, but there was no response to that either.

Did something happen to him? 

How would I even know?

Before you can even think about it you’re pulling up google, only stopping yourself as you realize that you’re about to start stalking the man.

Stop it, don’t be that kind of woman.

It’s only in an exchange while you’re out at a club that you finally build up the courage to ask after him in a roundabout way.

“You guys know alot of people in the fashion world right?” You drop into a random conversation,  “You’d hear about things if something happened to someone, right? Like, some kind of …incident?”

Murmurs of agreement meet you in reply, and you nod, drawing a look from Wooyoung.

“Absolutely, nothing is quiet for long in this industry,” Jimin says offhandedly, and you have to accept that it was highly unlikely that he was in any kind of trouble.

Relief washes over you at that thought, but another, darker feeling was starting to grow in the pit of your stomach.

It’s fine.

“What’s up?” Jungkook asks from beside you, setting down his drink, “Worried about something?”

You wave your hand at your friends, especially the suspicious glances from Wooyoung.  

“No, just curious how chatty that world is.” You fake a laugh, raising your drink to your lips to cover your horrible acting.  

“Don’t worry, Wooyoung is quite the gossip, if something is going on, we’d all know.” Tae offers, drawing out a round of laughter.

He’s right, while you’ve not uttered a word about any connection to Hoseok, you’ve heard his name from these guys a few times in passing regarding their work.

Each time, you’ve gotten that little thrill of knowing that you have this secret between just the two of you, yet now there’s this smoldering ember of doubt to go along with that excitement.

Why hasn’t he responded then?

You slap on a neutral face and do your best to enjoy the outing, clinking glasses with Jungkook and Jimin before joining in the fun.

Yet the gnawing feeling that if nothing is wrong…

Then why haven’t you heard from him?

“Stop lying to me.”

You groan, not wanting to look at the man pestering you right at this moment.

“The others have noticed as well, you know.  You’re not a very good liar.”

“Wooyoung, nothing is-” 

His sudden stomping has you glancing away from your computer screen, jumping as the man in question slams his hands on the desk beside you as he leans over to glare at you.

It’s a rare sight to see Wooyoung actually upset, yet here he was, those dark eyes blazing with worry and exasperation.

“Stop. Lying. To. Me.” He bites off each word, jaw clenched tightly.  

You’ve been fighting off the nagging feeling that Hoseok has just lost interest in the days following your outing.

Wooyoung’s sudden outburst has you finally acknowledging that maybe…just maybe…that horrible fear could be a reality.

Opening your mouth with the intent to allay his concern, a sob escapes your throat instead of words.

You clamp your hand over your mouth, cursing your emotions as your eyes begin to sting.

“Oh, doll…” Wooyoung immediately sinks to his knees, turning your chair towards him as you fight against the floodgates.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you, I’m just worried.” He soothes, cupping your face as he uses his thumbs to wipe away the villainous tears that start to leak from your eyes.  

He gathers you up in his arms, rubbing your back as you finally break down, clenching a handful of his shirt as you finally let go.

“Something is going on, isn’t it?” he whispers softly, and you can only nod against his shoulder.

He lets out a sigh, humming gently as he continues to comfort you.

“I know getting details is like prying teeth from you, but…I need to know….are you pregnant?”

You hiccup, shaking your head immediately, bleating out a sad little, “no.” 

“Good, good…that’s good…you’re not…sick or anything?” 

You manage another shake of your head.

He breathes out a sigh of relief, letting the sounds of you weeping fill the void for a moment before he continues.

“What’s this asshole's name?” He finally inquires.

“He’s-not-an-asshole-” you choke out.

“There it is. I knew it.” he hums, sighing wearily.

You slap at him weakly, trying to pull away but he just holds you close, shushing you as he pets your hair.

“Well, that’s subjective, doll.  He’s making you cry, so he’s an asshole in my book.”

You babble something incoherent to try to disagree, but he merely tuts at you.  

“For someone who writes novels, you’re not convincing me with your words, doll.  Look, you’re ruining my shirt with your snot, and you sound like a drunk turkey.”  

You hit him again, this time a little harder but you can’t help but snort at the ridiculous insult between your pitiful blubbering.

“Idiot. Jerk.” you grumble, calming down a bit and he finally loosens his hold, drawing back slightly to look closely at you.

“Don’t, I’m all icky.” You complain, turning your head and grabbing for your box of tissues.

“Yeah you are; nasty.” he teases and you just toss him a steely glance as you wipe at your nose.

“Hate you,” you grump, trying to clean yourself up.

“You love me, don’t lie. I told you, you’re bad at it.”  He said, rising to his feet to cross his arms at you.

“Whatever.” You huff, then look up at him in apprehension, “I’m not talking about it.”  

He purses his lips at you, chewing the inside of his cheek as he studies you.

“Fine…I’ll drop it for now, but if you need to, talk to one of us, alright? That’s all I’m asking.  I don’t like seeing you tearing yourself apart for some guy. I don’t know your reasons for keeping him a secret from us, but -” he stops, eyes narrowing.

“He’s not married, is he?”

“Wooyoung!” You grab the box of tissues and throw them at him, but he just dodges it easily, “You really think that I could-that I would-?!” 

You can’t help but sputter unintelligibly, offended.

“No, not you but…whatever, fine, I just can’t help but care, alright?”

You let out a long sigh, rubbing a hand over your eyes. 

“It’s not even something bad, I just haven’t been sleeping and I’m trying to meet deadlines..” you gesture to the computer, “I’m sure that’s just making me overly emotional. I’m alright.”

He stays silent, considering your argument as his phone dings with a message.  

“Get lost, I have work to do,” you wave him off, turning back to your computer.

His answering grunt lets you know that he’s checking his phone and you try to refocus as he grumbles about always having something to deal with.

“I’ll be checking on you, or I’ll send someone-” he threatens as he makes his way out.

“Yeah yeah….and hey…Wooyoung?” you call out before he can close the door behind him.

“Hm?” he turns to look at you, pausing in the doorway.

“Thank you.” You give him a grateful smile, and then he’s grinning, bouncing out down the hall as the door closes.

Now if you could convince yourself that you are completely fine, you can hopefully get some of your projects ticked off your list.

You barely notice how often your eyes drift to look at your phone, clinging to that last vestige of hope that it’ll light up with a much anticipated text.

Perhaps it’s because you’re so used to creating imaginary worlds, shaping fiction out of nothing but your fantasies.

Regardless of what keeps you holding on, there’s that small, almost invisible thread you cling to.

He’s come to some kind of harm, he’s in a coma and any day he will wake up; his first call will be you, and-

No, no, he’s stranded on some desert island, having gone out to sea for some unknown reason but he’s been cut off from-

What if he’s hit his head in some foreign land, and he has amnesia-

Aliens abducted-

If you can think of it, your irrational thoughts grasp onto it eagerly, and by the time you’ve spun up some insane story, you’ve kept that little glimmer of hope alive.

Ridiculous, but it's getting you past it.

Right?

Right?

You’ve gone so long without hearing from him, you find yourself not rushing to your phone each time it has a message or call; your life has returned to the routine you had prior to that fateful night.

Yet….

Yet.

There will be those moments, those tiny little glimpses of memories that spiral you right back into that headspace.

Your fingers graze the silver chain hiding beneath your hoodie, the one keepsake you have to remind you it was all real.

At least while it lasted.

Maybe he will come back for it, at the very least?

Your phone dings and you push away from your desk, glancing at the clock to see that it’s well past midday.

Your stomach rumbles and you pat it as you check your messages.

“Hey, our friend is singing tonight at a show, you should come with us and check it out.  If you’re done being a grump ass!”

You just cluck your tongue at Wooyoung’s text, sighing as you open the fridge and are greeted with empty shelves.

Shit, shopping…yeah I should do that.

You glance at your outfit and momentarily think about changing, but you just shrug.

Who cares if you’re wearing baggy jogging pants and a hoodie? 

It’s not like you’re trying to impress anyone.

Not anymore, your mind tosses at you but you tamp down the errant thought.

You reply to Wooyoung, asking for a rain check as you slip on your shoes and make your way to the local grocery.

A little bit of back and forth with him, then getting prodded in your group chat has you laughing at the guys as you grab a few items to get you through the next few days.

Your eyes are locked on the phone, only glancing up to make sure you’re not going to run into anything as you follow the conversation.

“Next time, he’s got a few shows coming up.  He’s good looking too!” Taehyung adds to the discussion.

“Don’t say that in front of him, we’ll never hear the end of it.” Jungkook retorts.

“As bad as Wooyoung?” You are typing out as you hear the sound of a car horn, drawing your attention away from your phone for a moment.

The amused smile freezes on your face as you look up, unable to miss the familiar face staring back at you.

You just stand in shock, people crossing the street all around you as you cling to the bag in your arms.

There he is, those gorgeous cheekbones, that honey skin, that brilliant smile.

You can only gawk in misery at the truth laid out before you.

Your heart trembles in anguish as the last thread that was clinging on for dear life finally loses its hold.

Of all the places you thought you’d see him again, of all the scenarios…

Seeing his picture plastered on an advertisement for a designer brand wasn’t in your rolodex of possibilities.

The massive ad seems to grow larger, as if it’s going to suffocate you.

You’re jostled back to your senses as people grumble at you, questioning randomly why you’re in their way and you grip your bag tightly as you duck your head and rush back home.

By the time you’re slamming your apartment door, as if you can flee from the internal distress twisting your guts.

You mindlessly shuffle into the kitchen, staring off blankly as you think about how amazing he looked, how absolutely fucking breathtaking.

Your hand drifts up to tug at the neck of your hoodie.

Your stomach lurches, and you rush into the bathroom, leaning over the sink as you fight back the urge to get sick.

I should be happy that he’s fine.

Good for him, right?

It’s just a fucking picture.

It’s not like we were ever anything.

Right?

We never actually dated.

I was just a fling.

Then why-?

You glance up at the mirror, wincing at your reflection staring back at you.

The unkempt mess you present contrasts so drastically to that polished, stunning man that you can’t help but let out a bitter laugh.

“You’re a fool.” 

It’s absurd.

Of course, you knew from the beginning that you’d slept with a stranger.

What did you expect?

It’s not like he told me anything untrue.

He didn’t lie, right?

He said he missed me.

So?

Maybe he missed the sex.

Did I really think he was going to date me?

But he made time for me…

Did he? 

Was he really that busy?

I’m so naive.

You let out an exhausted sigh, collecting your thoughts before finally running the water and splashing your face with the cold liquid.

Your brain just keeps going in circles as you dry your face and hands, arguing against that stupid little voice that keeps trying to make excuses.

You don’t even bother putting away the groceries, finding yourself burrowing into your bed as if you can hide from your shame.

As you close your eyes to the world, you tug once more on the neck of your hoodie.

You freeze as you realize that it’s not the hoodie you’re touching.

It was his fucking necklace encircling your throat.

Clawing at it furiously, you sit up and finally manage to unclasp it, flinging it away from you as if it’s on fire.  

With a pathetic whimper, you retreat back under your covers as if that’s some kind of remedy.

Don’t care right now.

You’d somehow twisted up a simple physical affair into some kind of romantic fantasy in your mind.

Did you really think this was some love story?

Guilt at your misunderstanding wars with resentment towards him, but you know that’s not fair.

Still….

How stupid I am.

He’s just fine.

He’s just perfectly fucking fine.

And I’m a complete mess.

[joonslfttiddie]

Nooooooooo!!!!!! Why?!💔 I need more!

Summary: When one of your closest friends asks you to be his plus one to a big event, the last thing you expected was to end up in a hotel room with a handsome stranger.

Word Count: 10893

Pairing: Fashion Journalist/Model!Hoseok x F!Reader

Trope/AU: Non Idol AU/Angst-Smut

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Warnings: Adult language, vulgarity, dirty talk, protected sex, sex with a stranger, mentions of drinking alcohol, quite a bit of angst, MDNI

A/N: This is chapter one for a larger story. I couldn't help but make Wooyoung the BFF as he's my comfort muse 🤍 Thank you to @frenchkisstheabyss for beta reading this, as always your opinion is so highly valued to me I can't express it.

@pars-ley for the GORGEOUS FREAKING BANNER-also for all the back and forth, as well as beta reading for me...between you and Ty I doubt this would be coming out this quickly. Words just can't articulate what your input means.

@cafekitsune my forever divider queen, ily 💜💜💜

“So I was invited to this event…” 

You glance over at your best friend, rubbing your eyes from lack of sleep.

“Oh yeah? Is it for photography?” you ask him, curious.

Wooyoung perks up, nodding as you give him your full attention.

“Yeah, one of the editors gave me two tickets so…” he looks at you sheepishly, barely able to hide his cheeky little grin.

But you know him too well at this point.

“Wooyoung…you know I don’t like things like that.” you respond, closing your laptop as you lean back in your chair.

“Come on, I need a plus one and you are my best option.  It’s free food and drinks…besides…” he says, eyeing you, “You need to get out of the house.”

You give him a small frown, unconsciously reaching up to touch your messy hair that you’d thrown into a bun earlier before working.

“Well that’s just rude.” you grumble as he comes over to grab your shoulders and shake you playfully.

“Look, I’ll pick out your outfit and everything, all you need to do is show up.  I’ll owe you!” 

Sighing, you reluctantly agree after a bit more coaxing, already regretting inviting him over tonight.

Still, you can’t help but get swept away in his enthusiasm, and you know despite hating the social atmosphere, you want to be there to support your friend.

So that’s how you find yourself, hiding to the side in this massive ballroom, surrounded by people you don’t know, as you watch Wooyoung mingle with people from afar.

Good, I may be able to make an early exit if he’s busy…you think to yourself as you eye the doors off in the distance.

A low voice suddenly breaks you out of your fantasies of being at home, lounging in a bathrobe with no one else around.

“Are you planning your escape?” the husky voice asks, and you glance over at the man who’s taken up residence next to you.

“Is it that obvious?” you ask, assessing him as he glances between you and the door.  

He was long and lean, impeccably dressed in some designer or another.

Wooyoung would be able to pick it out, you think, as you eye the newcomer.  

“Only if you’re thinking the same thing,” he winks, leaning back against the wall as he tilts his head at you.  

You turn slightly towards him, unexpectedly not all that annoyed by the company.

“While I don’t want to slight anyone here, as I believe it’s quite an extravagant party, if you like that kind of thing…I’d much rather be lounging around in my pajamas at home.”  you respond, looking down at the gown Wooyoung had plucked out of your closet earlier.

The red cocktail dress was gorgeous, ending slightly above the knee; understatedly sexy yet sophisticated.  

You’d held onto it from some event or another in the last year and Wooyoung had insisted.  

Your new companion's eyes drift down your frame along with yours, then at his own attire.  

“I couldn’t possibly want to wear anything else but this, of course.” He announces a bit loudly, before tossing you the cutest wink and rolling his eyes slightly.

Then he leans in, whispering, “Pajamas sound heavenly…”

You cover your mouth as a small giggle escapes your lips, surprising you.  

This man has me giggling like a little girl, you chastise yourself, as if I haven’t spoken to a handsome man before…

His dark eyes dance with delight as he gives you a bright smile, causing your heart to flutter a bit.

Damn, you think, what a fucking smile.

“Hoseok. But you can call me Hobi,” he offers.

Blushing, you whisper your name, enjoying how he has to lean in to catch it.  

“So what brings you out tonight?” he inquires after introductions are complete.

You glance back over at Wooyoung, unsurprisingly at the center of all the attention as he regales his friends with some story or another.  

You pick out a few familiar faces and a soft smile teases at your lips.

Hoseok’s eyes dart back up to yours as you turn back, and you can’t help but wonder if he was looking at your mouth.  

Not the place to be getting heated over a handsome man, you think, focusing back on the topic.

Clearing your throat, you finally respond, “I’m a plus one for the peacock over there,” you gesture to Wooyoung, who is currently hanging off a mutual friend.

Hoseok glances over briefly, noting the group, then turns back to you.

“Boyfriend?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.  

Snorting, you wave a hand at him, “No...no…I couldn’t handle half of what that man puts out.  He’s a bit much for me personally.”  

“Ah…” he replies, seeming to relax a bit.

You stare at him curiously, wondering what his reaction is all about before asking the same. 

“And you? Are you here for the event or are you an extra too?”  

He gives you a shrug, letting out a soft sigh, “Here alone, for the event.  Brushing shoulders and all that, but I find myself more interested in one-on-one conversations tonight.” 

Your cheeks heat at the obvious flirtatious tone, finding yourself leaning ever so slightly closer to him. 

“Well I’m in luck then, aren’t I? Good thing I didn’t escape yet.” You say quickly, before you can stop yourself.  

Oh my god, am I flirting? 

His face lights up and you can’t help but take note of the way his cheeks lift to expose the cutest dimples.  

Warmth flares in the pit of your stomach and you find yourself looking closer at him; the man is even more attractive than you first realized.  

Especially with that gorgeous smile.

He appears to notice your close study of him, his smile warm as he returns the favor.  

“Definitely a good thing…” he repeats back to you, and you resist the urge to fan yourself at his proximity.  

Clearing your throat, you redirect the conversation before you start stuttering at this stranger.

“So what is your reason for being here? Work? Or are you some kind of ambassador?” 

He studies you, and you swear there’s a bit of disappointment at your attempt to talk about mundane things.

“Work…I write for a fashion magazine.  Luckily it’s a lot of sitting back and people watching, so this suits me fine…but I’d much rather hear about you.” He answers, tilting his head at you in curiosity.

Suddenly, you find your cheeks heating even more, and you hope that it’s not too noticeable.  

Shit…you hadn’t thought about answering that when you’d asked….

“Uh…I…I also write. Novels…fiction…” you stammer out, your voice shaky as you pray he won’t pry.

Yet, those hopes are dashed as he responds.

“What kind of fiction do you write?” he inquires, brows drawing together at your sudden discomfort.

“Smut…” You mumble at him, and he frowns, leaning closer to you.

“What was that-?” he asks.

“R-romance…” you say, heart thumping in your chest from the save.

Oh my god, did I just say smut? Good lord, this man has me flustered!

“Oh…really?” he says, crossing his arms over his chest as he nods in contemplation, “So what kind of smut?” 

“Well I-” but you stop mid thought, face burning as he holds your gaze.

“Fuck.…” you mumble, then curse yourself for blurting it out loud.

He laughs in delight, his soft chuckle winding you up both in embarrassment and something else a little more…primal.

“That’s quite the mouth you’ve got on you...now I’m curious what else that pretty mind can come up with.” 

Something within you seems to awaken at his teasing; despite your mild uneasiness at this particular topic, you long for this to continue.

Tossing caution to the wind, you decide to answer with your true thoughts.

“You’d be surprised what this mind can conjure up when I’m all alone with a keyboard…” you whisper to him, leaning in just enough to brush your arm against his.  

A thrill jolts through you as his eyes widen, his Adam's apple bobbing visibly as he tenses a bit at your words.

Before you can regret your comment or apologize and retreat, he’s pressing his arm firmly against yours before responding.

“Well now, you can’t say something so tempting and expect me not to ask for an example.”  he whispers, his voice deepening with a sultry huskiness.

Inhaling a shaky breath, you glance around to see if anyone has noticed your interaction.

“Noone is paying us any attention.  They’re all more interested in getting the attention of the elites in the room.” He whispers.

You glance back at him, his eyes locked on you as if you’re the only person in this massive room.

Oh fucking hell, you think, as he runs his knuckle over your bare upper arm.  

You’ve written the word “clenching" so many times but right at this very moment, you swear you never grasped the gravity of what it was like to actually do so.

“Do you ask every woman you come across to talk dirty to you?” You tease, enjoying the way he continues to touch your skin despite the feigned shock on his face.

“Do you curse at every man who asks you to?” He retorts, biting his bottom lip as his eyes flick to your mouth.

Swallowing heavily, you take a deep breath and let it out slowly, attempting to collect your thoughts.

“I can’t say that I’ve ever had anyone actually ask me, let alone someone I’ve just met…” you tell him, wondering where the hell this conversation was going to lead.

His face softens slightly as he examines your features.

“I’ll be honest with you…I rarely attempt to even go beyond small talk with others, let alone…this…” 

The finger caressing your arm stops suddenly as he seems to be contemplating something.

Your stomach twists at the thought of him drawing away, of losing this contact with him but your worries are alleviated as he continues speaking.

“Would you like to go somewhere more private?”

He rushes to add, “To talk, of course.” 

Perhaps it’s the adrenaline coursing through your veins at the insane attraction to this man that causes you to laugh, but you don’t know how else to react right now.

His brows raise at the reaction, and before he can say anything else, you quickly nod at the suggestion.

“Yes…please.” 

Another laugh bubbles up from your throat at his shocked reaction, as if he expected to be rejected.

Before you can regret your answer, he’s pushing off the wall, glancing around before turning to hold his hand out to you.  

“I…have a room here for the night…” He offers.

“To talk, of course.” You respond.

“Of course, for…research.” he shoots back as you settle your hand in his.  

A shiver courses through you as his long fingers entwine with yours, allowing him to lead you to the back of the room and down a corridor.

You spare only a glance at Wooyoung before you disappear from the event entirely, hoping he won’t mind your absence.

Your heart flutters in your ribcage as you ponder why in the hell you’re going somewhere alone with a man you just met, but all of your reason seems to have fled tonight.

Yet you can’t deny that this is much more interesting than sitting around in your bathrobe, writing about it.

Your stomach is tight with anticipation and anxiety as the trip from the hall to the elevators then to the corridor to his room is silent.

The motion of his thumb caressing your fingers is all that keeps you from bolting back into the safety of the party, but you know that you would regret that fully if you did.

He produces a keycard and leads you into his room, and as the door shuts behind you, your mind is already made up.

Whatever happens, happens.

It has been ages since you have even been on a date, let alone anything physical…

And maybe this is just to talk, as he said…

His room is a suite, with an open-plan sitting area, a small couch and coffee table, the large king size bed looming in the background.  

The long ceiling to floor windows are wide open, curtains pulled back to display the city lit up brightly below.

He leads you to the couch, reluctantly releasing your hand as he looks up at you expectantly.

You hesitate a moment before seating yourself beside him, clasping your hands together to stop him from seeing your tremble.

Mistaking your gesture, he rushes to fill the silence.

“If you get uncomfortable, please don’t hesitate to say as much. The last thing I want to do is-” 

“I’m not uncomfortable. I mean, at least not in a bad way.” you blurt out, cutting him off.

You swear if your cheeks heat any more than they already have tonight, your skin is going to melt off.

His face lights up as he places a hand over his chest, letting out an audible breath.

“Thank goodness, I...I really do want to get to know you better.”

You glance around once more before attempting to get more comfortable on the couch, turning towards him as you cross your legs.

You don’t fail to notice how his eyes dart to your legs as the skirt rides up slightly and the flush that’s visibly creeping up his neck.

Oh this is so dangerous, you think, yet it’s also the most exciting thing that’s happened to you in ages.

He angles himself towards you as you brush your skirt over your knee, trying to hide your smile as he quickly averts his eyes.

“So…do you enjoy writing?” he asks softly, as he leans back against the cushions, resting his elbow on the back of the couch and props his chin on his palm.

Taking the cue, you also try to relax back into the comfy sofa as you finally give him your full attention.

“I do…quite a lot.  I failed to mention that I am also an editor for other writers, but I split my time between that and my own work.” 

He just holds your gaze as you speak, seemingly fascinated with each word you utter.  

It was quite the thrill to have someone so close, so interested…and so gorgeous. 

“Do you enjoy your work?” You return, not wanting to only talk about yourself.

He takes a moment, glancing off as if to ponder the question.

“Hmm…at times.  It can take over my life sometimes, honestly.  The amount of research and travel involved sometimes can be overwhelming.  But…” he lets his eyes drift back to you, lips curling softly as he pauses, “sometimes I get to meet interesting people.”

Your stomach flips as his tone drops, sensing that constant underlying tension drawing you closer to him before you can stop yourself.  

It’s as if each moment requires an inch to be removed from between you.

“It’s quite the opposite of my work then,” you laugh breathily, “I spend most of my time imagining encounters…like this…” 

Your words trail off as the back of your neck heats, already wincing at your comment.

His eyes widen slightly, brows raising as a smile dances across his lips.

“Oh? And…if you were to be writing … this specific encounter…what would happen next?”  

Your breath hitches, mind racing at the question, at the implication, at where this could be leading…

“Well…I suppose I’d have to check my notes, answer some…questions first before proceeding.” You finally reply, enjoying the gleam of interest in his eyes.

“What kinds of questions?” His soft yet hoarse tone has you clenching your thighs together, “Perhaps I can help answer them.”

Good lord, this man is making me lose all of my sanity.

“Well…” you take a moment to think, biting your lower lip, “first, has he been drinking?”

“Not a drop.”

“Mmm..then…does he always bring unfamiliar women back to his hotel room?” 

His brow twitches, his gaze drifting to your mouth, then back up.

“This is definitely his first time doing anything so bold.”  

Your heart races at this admission, spiralling your senses further into losing all rationale.

“Well, for…her…she’s never done anything as daring either so…I’d have to ask why this man even spoke to her to begin with; what is it he is looking for?”  

His tongue darts out, wetting his lips as his eyes hood over, letting his gaze drift openly over you before answering.

“At first, he was curious about why such a beautiful woman was all alone, hiding among the plants at such an event…but after speaking to her, he couldn’t help but long to know more.  Away from all of the eyes lingering on her, so his were the only ones who could study her more closely.”

Your entire body tightens at the compliment, the quivers from being so tense threatening to give away how much he’s affecting you.

“And does he…regret the decision?” you can’t stop your voice from wavering at the question.

He brings his hand up to gently tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, then he traces his knuckle down your cheek.

“Quite the contrary, he’s as mesmerized by her mind as he is by her beauty.” 

At his touch, your lips part, and it takes everything within you to not let out the most wanton moan at the simple contact.

“I’m curious to know why she allowed herself to be all alone with this man, despite having all these questions.” he follows up, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.

Feeling emboldened by his answers, you lean in closer until you swear you can feel his breath tickling your lips.  

“Perhaps she’s curious as to why this handsome man chose her to speak to…and what it is that's so tempting about him.”

His hand slips up your jaw, opening to cup your cheek as his breathing noticeably hitches.  

“She’s tempted?” He asks, barely audible.

Your heart trembles, stomach swirling with butterflies as he dips his head ever closer so that you can almost feel the brush of his lips.

As if he’s waiting for you to be the one to close the final gap.

You give an almost imperceptible nod, your own hand reaching up to flick back a lock of his hair before tracing your fingertips along his gorgeous cheekbones.

“She can’t stop thinking about what her particular shade of lipstick will look like covering his sexy-” you breathe out.

Before you can continue, he lets out an impatient little grunt as he grasps the back of your neck, pulling your mouth against his.

Your fingers slip down his throat and you can feel his pulse beating quickly against your thumb as it rests on his neck.  

Your lips part eagerly for him as his tongue traces the seam of your mouth, and finally the whimper you’ve been holding back bubbles up out of you.

This only urges him on as he nips your bottom lip, sucking gently as he slowly guides you onto your back.  

Yes, yes, yes, your mind screams as he deepens the kiss, using his legs to part your thighs.

Your fingers delve into his hair, clutching onto the strands as he breaks from your mouth to pepper kisses along your jaw.

“Please-” you say, not exactly knowing what you’re asking for but he complies anyhow, slipping his hand between you and tugging up the skirts of your dress.

He halts momentarily and concern suddenly twists up your insides as he rests his cheek against your collarbone.  

“Is something-?” you manage through your throaty breaths.

“No-no-” he interjects, looking up at you as his palm grazes against your naked inner thigh, “-I just…want this to last…and you’ve already got me-”

He doesn't bother to finish the sentence, shuddering against you as his fingertips slip beneath your panties.

A wave of heat washes over you as he lets out a long, deep moan.

A confusing mix of bashfulness and exhilaration threatens to overwhelm you from just the pads of his fingers teasing over your drenched folds.

You can’t look away from his stunning face, his eyes fluttering closed as his lips part to let out the most delicious little noises as he explores you.  

Doing your best to hold back your own whimpers, you clutch at the couch cushion above you as your fingers cling to the strands of his hair in your hand.  

“Fuck-you’re killing me with how wet you already are…” he breathes against the skin of your chest, “Don’t hold back, I want to hear you-” 

Your hips lift as his fingers part your lower lips, skimming upwards agonizingly slow until he finds what he’s looking for.

“Mmmm-yes…” he murmurs as you finally cry out as he rolls your clit gently between his thumb and forefinger.  “That’s it…you like that?” 

You nod frantically as he focuses intently on drawing out your pleasure, each tiny motion of his deft fingers causing your body to arch and shake.

“Yes, oh god-” You finally whimper, “Hoseok-” 

He draws away from you slightly, angling himself so that he’s hovering above in order to look down at you.

“Talk to me, baby-” He coaxes, his eyes flicking down to take in the sight of you spread wide open with your panties pushed aside.  

“So good, oh god…don’t stop-” you blurt out, scrambling to articulate the most basic words in the haze of desire you’re trapped in.

You release the cushion you're gripping, grasping at the back of his neck, then tugging at his suit jacket as he looks between your face and his fingers teasing at you.

“What is it, baby? Tell me what you want-” he encourages, his honeyed cheeks flushing with heat as his gaze locks on your cunt.

The rasp of his voice has you clenching tightly and he gasps softly at the sight, causing you to cover your face in embarrassment.

“No, no no…don’t you dare…” he hums, his dark eyes locking on yours as he pulls his hand from you to grip your wrists and tug them gently away from your face.

Your breathing is coming shallow and hard as he pins you down, searching your face before leaning in to press his lips to yours once more.

Your heart beats in your throat, grateful for the momentary change of pace as he kisses you tenderly.

You take the opportunity to grasp at his jacket and push it off his shoulders, and he helps you remove it, tossing it off to the side without parting from you.  

He slides his hands behind your back, blindly seeking your zipper and finally he lets out a happy sigh into your mouth as he finds it and tugs it down.  

It’s awkward for a moment as you lean up, doing your best to allow him access to unzip you fully, then tug at his tie and the buttons of his shirt.

“Fuck this.” he finally says, propping himself up to stand, then tug you up off the couch.

You stumble a little before he pulls you close, his mouth already on yours as he slides your dress off of you, allowing it to drop to the floor.

You return to plucking at the buttons of his shirt as he walks you both backwards, your dress left behind in a heap as his hands slip down to your ass to squeeze your cheeks greedily.

“Rip it off-” he demands between kisses, one hand sliding up your spine to pluck at the clasp of your bra.

You comply immediately, yanking at his shirt without a second thought, a satisfying tearing sound quickly drowned out by both of your gasping breaths.  

You waste no time in running your fingers along his lean torso, his skin raising against your palms as you slip them down his stomach.  

He inhales in a sharp hiss as you boldly drop your hand to grope his erection through his pants.  

“Off-” he groans, doing his best to guide you back to the large bed behind him without bowling you both over.  

You nod as you feel your bra finally loosen, shrugging out of it quickly before tearing at his belt, then the button and zipper of his pants.  

The back of his knees hit the bed and you use the momentum to push him onto it, grabbing at the pants and yanking them off.  

As you throw them onto the floor, you pause to admire the ridiculously gorgeous man before you, clad in only a pair of boxers that are tented by his quite obvious arousal.  

Am I really doing this? Fuck yes I’m doing this, you think wildly as he reaches for you.

“Come here,” he pants, grabbing you behind your thighs to pull you onto the bed with him.

You can’t help but let out a strangled laugh as you tumble onto him, tits smacking him right in the face as you land on top of him.  

Before you can even voice an apology, he’s latching onto your nipple as he scoots you both up the bed.  

Your legs entwine with his as you grip his hair, his stiff cock grinding into your inner thigh as he rolls you onto your back.

A cry escapes you as he sucks harshly, drawing back to look at the raised bud before he uses the tip of his tongue to circle slowly as he looks up at you.

A rush of warmth floods your thighs as you feel his body press into you and you gasp as his dick slips from the opening of his boxers to connect with your naked flesh.  

“Fuck, fuck-” he chokes out as you push them down, looking between you as he wiggles free off them.

He sits back on his heels, yanking your panties down your hips, and you raise your legs to help him remove them.  

“These are mine now.” he says, bunching them up in his hand before bringing them to his nose to inhale deeply.

The reaction to this has your entire body flushing with heat and a strangled whimper rips from your throat before he’s pushing your legs open to settle between them.  

He reaches over to place your panties on his bedside table before returning to hover over you.  

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he whispers as you clutch at his shoulders, looking down between you as he rocks his hips to rub the underside of his cock along your damp slit.  

You arch your back at the contact, moaning desperately as the head rubs against your clit over and over.

“Hoseok-wait-protection-” you gasp out, placing your open palm on his chest before you can lose yourself completely. 

“Fuck, right, yeah-” he blinks, eyes wide as his breathes heavily, then he’s yanking open the drawer in the sidetable to dig through until he finds a familiar foil packet.

You relax slightly at this, one less worry as he rips it open with his teeth and then pulls out the condom.  

“Here-” you offer, taking it from him eagerly in order to put it on as he props himself above you.

You admire how pretty his curved cock is as you roll it down him, looking back up at him as you wrap your fingers around him to stroke him slowly.

His eyes close at the motion, thrusting into your hand before he’s dropping down onto you and his tongue is in your mouth once more.  

“Tell me you want me,” he moans against your lips, his voice shaking with need as the tip dips between nudging your clit and teasing at your aching hole.  

“Please, Hoseok,” you moan out, wiggling beneath him to urge him to finally give in to you, “Fuck, please, I want you so fucking badly, it hurts-”

“Yeah?” he whispers, using his thighs to push your legs further open, “Say it again, say my name, beg me-”

“Hoseok, please, oh god, please…fuck…I want-I need-!” you cry out, your nails digging into his shoulders as you writhe beneath him.

His breath catches at your pleas and he pushes forward slowly at first, but as you let out a long, drawn out moan he drives himself deep within you.

You clench around him and he brushes his lips against the shell of your ear, his heavy breathing just heightening the pleasure as he pulls back just to thrust back into you.  

“Baby, you feel so fucking incredible,” he hums in your ear as you wrap your legs around his waist, tilting your hips as he sets a steady rhythm.

Your breath keeps catching with each thrust, and every single nerve ending in your body is on fire as he coaxes the most obscene noises from you.

“Hoseok-” you whine, a soft keening noise underlying every word you speak, “Harder-feels so good…please…fuck-!”

A pleased groan rumbles in his chest as he fists his hand in your hair, gently tipping your head back to press his lips against your throat.  

The wet, slapping sounds of your bodies meeting makes your cheeks flare with heat, but you could care less right now as he continues to ply you with breathy questions. 

“Right there, baby? Yeah?” he asks as you gasp, rolling his hips so his pelvis grinds against your clit, “You sound so fucking good with my cock deep inside of you-” 

A string of unintelligible curses leave your lips and you can feel him smile against your neck as he continues to repeat the motion over and over.

“That’s it, let me hear every filthy word while I fuck your pretty little pussy,” he croons in a raspy tone, pulling away to look at you.  

Strands of damp hair cling to his forehead as he gazes down upon you, his pupils entirely blown out as he drips sweat onto your tits.  

You’ve never seen anyone or anything so absolutely sinful, and your body arches off the bed as an orgasm rips through you unexpectedly.

“Oh my god, fuck, yes, yes, fuck, come for me-” Hoseok gasps as you clamp around him, gritting his teeth as he struggles to keep up the tempo.

The walls echo your coarse wails, voice breaking as you attempt to reclaim your airways.

He’s unrelenting, however, as he takes this cue to slip one of his hands under your ass to roll onto his back and settle you onto top of him.  

His hands grip your ass as you steady yourself, grasping onto his shoulders as he guides your hips against him.

You let out a shaky laugh as a range of emotions wash over you; surprise, self-consciousness, euphoria all twisted up together.

One of Hoseok’s hands leaves your ass to slip up your side and settle under the weight of your breast, his eyes shuttering as you begin to move on top of him.

“Look at you…so fucking beautiful,” he groans as he palms your breast, grazing his thumb over your nipple as it tightens in response.

His reaction spurs you on, discarding any lingering insecurity as you begin to ride him properly.

He throws his head back with a long moan as you bounce on his cock, and the overwhelming need to feel his tongue has you slipping two fingers into his mouth.

He doesn’t disappoint as he immediately sucks on them, his gaze locked onto you as he swirls his tongue around the pads of your fingers.  

You’ve only ever written something so bold in your fics, yet here you are, living out the most erotic moment of your life.

His fingers dig into your flesh, guiding your body against his as the tension in your core throbs and coils.  

“Talk to me, baby,” he insists as your fingers trace along his lower lip, nipping gently as he stares up at you.

“So hard…to think…” you manage, your body ablaze as he tweaks one nipple, then the other.

His dark eyes are gleaming with delight as each touch, each movement elicits the most pornographic noises you’ve ever made.  

“Is my cock making you lose your mind, baby?” 

Your body jerks as his hand slips down from your tits to where you’re joined, the tips of his fingers teasing over your overly sensitive clit.  

You nod furiously, gasping as he starts circling slowly, drawing out a prolonged wail as you clench in pulses around him.  

“You’re making me-a complete mess-” you gasp out as he continues to add pressure with his fingers. 

“Make a fucking mess, baby, I can feel you soaking my thighs, that’s it-” he encourages, watching you so intently that he leans up, his eyes glinting feverishly.

“Hoseok-god, I want to see you lose control…want to feel you come-hear you moan for me, cover me, all over me-” you babble, just letting whatever thought comes into your mind escape out of your mouth.

“All over you, baby? Is that what you want?” he breathes out, his voice shaking enough to let you know he’s getting close.

You’re right there with him, nodding as he sits up fully, grabbing your hips to urge you towards your building climax.  

“Come for me, baby, and I’ll give you everything you want, come on, that’s it-” he hums, brushing your lips with his as he bounces you in his lap.

Your entire body shudders as he bites your bottom lip, groaning loudly as you cling to him and everything within you crumbles.

His name falls from your lips over and over, breaking off in hoarse cries as you tremble in his arms.  

His groans build in volume, breathing coming quicker as he holds back enough to let you completely finish before he’s tipping you backwards, pulling out and yanking off the condom as he positions himself on his knees between your legs.

“Come, come, come-!” you demand, aftershocks still causing your body to shake as he wraps his hand around his cock and jerks himself into completion all over your stomach and breasts.

You grip the bed above you, trying to catch your breath as sticky ropes of cum spurt from him, reveling in the obscene sight this must make.  

His body shudders and twitches as he slows his movements, his fingers slowly milking every last drop onto your naked skin before he collapses on top of you. 

Your fingers immediately tangle into his hair, your chest heaving along with his as you both attempt to recover.

Your combined panting finally slows enough to let silence fill the room, your eyes fluttering closed as he nuzzles his face into your neck.

Peace washes over you, and you barely register the passage of time until you feel Hoseok pull away gently, not even opening your eyes as you pout at the loss.

“I’ll be right back,” he whispers softly before he slips away, and you hear the rush of water from the other room.

Must be cleaning himself up…you think idly, but you’re shaken from the thought as a warm cloth drifts over your skin a few moments later.

You open your eyes slightly to peek at him and your heart leaps into your throat at the sight; he’s seated on the edge of the bed, gently cleaning you up and giving you a warm smile.  

“Shh, relax,” he murmurs, shaking his head as you attempt to cover yourself with your arms.  

You shiver at how sweet he’s being, at how his eyes linger on each part of your naked body as he takes his time with the cloth.  

“Don’t tell me you’re going to be shy now…” he teases as you cover your face with your hands to hide your blush.  

You feel him get off the bed, following his movements around the room through your fingers as he wanders back into the bathroom, then sets about picking up your discarded clothing.

Sighing inwardly as he slips his boxers back on, you feel your heart flutter as he picks up your dress delicately and drapes it over the back of one of the chairs.

This is my cue, I suppose…you think, sitting up to toss your legs over the side of the bed.

As you stand and look around for your bra, his voice draws your attention.

“What are you doing?” he asks, tilting his head at you as he smooths his hand over the fabric of your dress.  

“Um…finding my…clothing?” The statement comes out as a question, confused as to why he is asking.

You turn to spot the panties on the nightstand, but as you reach for him, he closes the distance between you and grabs your wrist lightly before you can retrieve them.

“I told you..” he hums, bringing your knuckles to his lips, “Those are mine now.”

Your breath hitches as his lips brush over your skin, and his lashes flutter as he slips an arm around you.

Swallowing heavily, you try to refocus your mind on reason but this man has already got your emotions scattering as he pulls you close.

“I..I figured that was my hint to leave…” you whisper, glancing at the dress, then back to him.

His face is unreadable as he studies you quietly for a moment, his eyes darting back and forth as he looks into yours.

“I won’t stop you if you do, if that's what you want, but…” he trails off, the arm around you tightening slightly, almost…posessively. 

“But?” you echo quietly, longing for him to say the words you wish to hear.

He hesitates briefly, then leans in to nudge your nose with his.

“But…I’d really like it if you stayed with me.” he finally admits, and your stomach does a complete somersault in joy.

“Alright.”

“Alright?” he repeats, as if he needs to double check.

“Yes, I’d…really like that too.” 

His face lights up with that gorgeous smile for only a moment, then his lips are capturing yours in a searing kiss as he urges you back onto the bed.

“Perhaps I’ll keep you up all night…” he whispers seductively, removing his boxers once more before burying his face in your-

“Hey, are you even listening to me?” Wooyoung complains, snapping his fingers in front of your face. 

“Eh? What?” you ask, shaking yourself from the memories of that night, focusing on your friend.

It has been two days since your encounter and you still find yourself wandering around in a daze, idly staring off in remembrance.

What kind of school girl hell crush is this? you think for the nth time, shaking yourself from your fantasies.

“Did you even hear what I said? What’s got you so lost in thought, hmmm?” He prods, bumping your shoulder with his, “Or should I say…who?”

“Stop, you’re going to make me spill.” You chastise him, grabbing a napkin to wipe at the drip from your full coffee cup.

“You need to be spilling, cause something is definitely up with you.” Wooyoung’s eyes narrow at you, always the prying little pest.

But I adore him, you think with an exaggerated sigh.

“I'll tell you…. eventually…maybe…” you try to deflect, but he’s not having it.

“Who is he? Where did you meet? What’s his name? Do I know him?” 

The questions are fired at you like bullets and you wave at him as he leans in closer to interrogate you.

“None of your business, nosy.”

You push his face away, chuckling at the ridiculous pout he gives you.

Your phone chimes, signalling an incoming text message, and Woo immediately goes to grab for it.

“Hey!” You exclaim, snatching it up and holding it close to your chest before giving him a little smack on his arm.

“When do you even go out to-?” he starts up again after a long sip of his coffee.  

Before he can continue, you glance at the clock.

“Don’t you have an appointment?”

“Oh shit, yeah, sorry-gotta run. See ya, doll!” he says, taking a last sip, then planting a harsh kiss on your cheek before dashing to the entryway to toss on his shoes. 

“This conversation isn’t over!” he calls out as the door closes behind him.

You wait a moment longer, making sure he’s actually gone before letting out a weary sigh.

“Nosy ass.” you grumble, then you finally look at your phone in anticipation.

Hope turns to disappointment as you read the text from one of your novelists, talking about an appointment later this week.

“Ah well…” you hum, responding quickly before switching to the text exchange you really want to be having.

You’d intended to leave the next morning in order to not overstay your welcome; but when Hoseok had come sauntering out of the bathroom, freshly showered with damp hair hanging in his face and a simple white hotel towel slung around his lean waist ... .well….

You stand and walk to your apartment window, staring off as you replay the multiple ways his tongue invaded you, all the delicious ways he-

Shaking your head, you snap back to reality, fanning yourself from the recollection.  

You’d finally managed to leave around midday, after tiring yourselves out and a nice, comforting nap in his arms.  

He’d stayed true to his word and kept your panties, hiding them behind his back when you attempted to reclaim them.  

A goofy smile plays over your lips, unconsciously tapping them with your fingers as you think about his stolen kisses even as he teased you.

For some reason, you felt no shame walking out of there and hailing a cab home sans underwear.  

You’d exchanged numbers, and honestly you hadn’t expected much from him, given the circumstances of your tryst.

Yet you’d received a text from him not even two hours after leaving him.

You can’t help but reread the little bits of conversation you’ve had since then, chewing your thumbnail as you scroll through.

“Did you get in safely?”

“I can still smell you on my fingers…” 

You let out a small giggle, turning only to stumble over a chair that you swear wasn’t there a moment ago.

You wander to your desk, sitting and rubbing your knee as you read the last exchange from yesterday.  

“So, when can I see you again?” He’d texted that morning.

“When would you like to?” You’d answered.

“Right now, if I could…but unfortunately I have obligations that I can’t get out of.”

“Then why don’t you message me when you have time, I’m not going anywhere.” You’d responded, heart soaring that he was even considering seeing you again.

“The moment I have free time, I’d like to take you on a proper date…if that’s something 

you’d be interested in?”  

You stare at the question as a smile plays over your lips, resisting the urge to kick your feet like a teenager, but it’s tough not to.

“Rushing into things, aren’t you?” you’d teased and he hadn’t disappointed with his response.

“That’s not what you were saying the other night when I had that sexy mouth screaming my name.”

You toss your phone, ears burning as you clear your throat, looking around as if you’re not the only person sitting around in your pajamas in your own apartment.

“Work! I have to work….” you scold yourself, unable to chase away the silly grin as you try to concentrate on getting your tasks sorted.

A week passes before you are able to solidify a time to meet up with him.

It’s the way he asks that has you tearing apart your wardrobe frantically.

“I need to see you, or I’m going lose my mind.”

Unfortunately, he only has an hour to spare for lunch, but you’re grateful for the opportunity to see him once more.

It had taken an ungodly amount of time to find the right thing to wear, and you lament the cleaning you’re going to have to do once you return home.

It looks like your closet has a bomb go off inside of it as you rush out to meet him.

The way he smiles at you as you spot him in the small cafe chases away any negative thoughts as you rush over to join him.

It’s a simple lunch, and before you can do so much as move beyond simple small talk, his phone alarm is going off.

“I promise I’ll make more time for you, gorgeous.” He whispers as he places a kiss on your cheek, his fingers skimming along yours as he parts from you.

The door chimes as he makes his exit and you’re left with your heart pitter pattering at seeing him in the flesh again.

I’ve got it so bad.

You take the time to grab some things, taking the opportunity while you’re already out so you don’t have to go out again unnecessarily.

As you’re unlocking your door, your phone chimes.

“It took everything to not just say fuck it and spend the day with you.  Soon, baby.” 

You spend the rest of the day with a stupid grin on your face and once more you’re delighted that you live alone so no one can see how foolish you look.

Your friends have definitely started to notice.

Wooyoung makes sense, yet apparently even some of the others have picked up on the change in you.

Hoseok has kept up a constant stream of contact, with some of the late night calls taking a racy turn.

You’re not quite sure what it is this relationship is, but you have zero concern that you’re attracted to one another.

He wasn’t lying when he’d mentioned how busy his job kept him the first night you’d met.  

He is constantly on his way to or from somewhere or other, sometimes even out of town or even the country.  

Yet, he always makes it a point to send you sweet messages, asking about your day, telling you how much he longs to see you again.

Despite the slow, staggered way this was developing, the constant reminders that he was out there, thinking of you has become the highlight of every day.

No longer can you refuse to admit how much you look forward to his daily texts or calls.  

How you stare at your screen, pining for his messages.  

That you’ve even made a special tone just for him in your phone.

Far, far too gone on a man you’ve barely spent any time with outside of the bedroom.

You’ve managed to get little pockets of time together, brief coffee meet ups or small windows of time where he’s passing nearby and you can pop out to see him for a moment.

He’s even come by just to plant a kiss on your lips, only to run off moments later.

Even after two months, you’ve only been able to see one another a handful of times.

The one time you’d gotten longer than an hour or two, he’d insisted that he wanted to take you out and the intention was there.

Yet, when he showed up at your place, you’d both been stripping each other within minutes of his arrival. 

You still can’t look at your table without being reminded of how he’d had you bent over it, plowing into you as his fingers worked magic over your entire body.  

He’d stayed over, but unfortunately, he’d been out the door before the sun had even peeked past the horizon, with promises to message you later and a steamy goodbye kiss.

Only a few visits here and there, yet all over your place were memories of him.

His lips, his raspy voice whispering your name, his agile fingers…

It had taken a half a week for you to finally clean the window where he’d had your body pressed, tits squished firmly and handprints marking yet another place he’d ravaged you.

Unfortunately, you’d had to wash the small blanket you keep on the couch…between his tongue driving you to the point of overstimulation and his own contributions from your efforts…

The man really did love making a complete mess of you…and all over you.

He was insatiable, and you spare a thought for your poor neighbors after the noises that he’d had coming out of your mouth.

Two months and you still aren’t sure what the hell your relationship is.

Each time you’ve thought to ask, you’ve chickened out; the last thing you wanted was to come across as needy and selfish.

At least he’d mentioned that he should be getting a lot more time soon; apparently they were having some issues at his magazine and he’d been putting in extra time to help them out.

Though, you haven’t pried into what kind of work it is, and if it’s related to writing or something else.

That he took the small bits of time he has to seek you out speaks worlds about where this seems to be heading.

“Missing you…I think I left my necklace at your place last time…will you check for me?”

You’d rushed immediately into your room, and sure enough, the gleam of a thin silver chain was looking right back at you from your nightstand.  

You’d admired it plenty of times when he was wearing it, especially the sweet little silver music note dangling from it.

“It’s here, did you need me to bring it to you? Or did you want to stop by for it?”

“Hold onto it for me? I’ll get it next time I see you…”

As you were typing out a response, he’d sent another that had you all but falling from your chair.

“On second thought, why don’t you put it on…then when I see you again, I’ll rip everything from your delicious body except that.  Fuck, baby…just the thought of you wearing only a piece of me has me rock hard.”

You wish you could have been a fly on the wall when he’d received the pic of you lying in bed, sheets draped covertly over just enough to not be straight up porn, clad in only his necklace.

“You mean this necklace?”

His response was almost instant.

“You’re killing me…yes, just like that.  Fuck, I miss you.  Everything about you.”

The playfulness was immediately replaced by a soft, warm feeling at his words, and you found yourself longing to just breathe in his scent again, sooner than later.

You had gently skimmed the charm on the necklace as it lay on your skin, missing him just as much, if not more.

Unfortunately, you hadn’t seen him since that heated little conversation. 

The time between texts had become longer, the messages shorter; mostly just updates about being busy and checking in to see how you were.

That’s why when he hadn’t responded after your last exchange via text, informing you about going out of town yet again, you hadn’t thought much of it.

It was only one morning, feeling more agitated than normal that you realized it had been four days with your last “good morning” message left on unread.

He’s just busy, you admonish yourself, don’t be greedy.  

Yet, when another three days pass with nothing but silence, you can feel the creeping doubts bleeding into everything you’re doing.

You’ve only sent one more text asking if everything is alright, but there was no response to that either.

Did something happen to him? 

How would I even know?

Before you can even think about it you’re pulling up google, only stopping yourself as you realize that you’re about to start stalking the man.

Stop it, don’t be that kind of woman.

It’s only in an exchange while you’re out at a club that you finally build up the courage to ask after him in a roundabout way.

“You guys know alot of people in the fashion world right?” You drop into a random conversation,  “You’d hear about things if something happened to someone, right? Like, some kind of …incident?”

Murmurs of agreement meet you in reply, and you nod, drawing a look from Wooyoung.

“Absolutely, nothing is quiet for long in this industry,” Jimin says offhandedly, and you have to accept that it was highly unlikely that he was in any kind of trouble.

Relief washes over you at that thought, but another, darker feeling was starting to grow in the pit of your stomach.

It’s fine.

“What’s up?” Jungkook asks from beside you, setting down his drink, “Worried about something?”

You wave your hand at your friends, especially the suspicious glances from Wooyoung.  

“No, just curious how chatty that world is.” You fake a laugh, raising your drink to your lips to cover your horrible acting.  

“Don’t worry, Wooyoung is quite the gossip, if something is going on, we’d all know.” Tae offers, drawing out a round of laughter.

He’s right, while you’ve not uttered a word about any connection to Hoseok, you’ve heard his name from these guys a few times in passing regarding their work.

Each time, you’ve gotten that little thrill of knowing that you have this secret between just the two of you, yet now there’s this smoldering ember of doubt to go along with that excitement.

Why hasn’t he responded then?

You slap on a neutral face and do your best to enjoy the outing, clinking glasses with Jungkook and Jimin before joining in the fun.

Yet the gnawing feeling that if nothing is wrong…

Then why haven’t you heard from him?

“Stop lying to me.”

You groan, not wanting to look at the man pestering you right at this moment.

“The others have noticed as well, you know.  You’re not a very good liar.”

“Wooyoung, nothing is-” 

His sudden stomping has you glancing away from your computer screen, jumping as the man in question slams his hands on the desk beside you as he leans over to glare at you.

It’s a rare sight to see Wooyoung actually upset, yet here he was, those dark eyes blazing with worry and exasperation.

“Stop. Lying. To. Me.” He bites off each word, jaw clenched tightly.  

You’ve been fighting off the nagging feeling that Hoseok has just lost interest in the days following your outing.

Wooyoung’s sudden outburst has you finally acknowledging that maybe…just maybe…that horrible fear could be a reality.

Opening your mouth with the intent to allay his concern, a sob escapes your throat instead of words.

You clamp your hand over your mouth, cursing your emotions as your eyes begin to sting.

“Oh, doll…” Wooyoung immediately sinks to his knees, turning your chair towards him as you fight against the floodgates.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you, I’m just worried.” He soothes, cupping your face as he uses his thumbs to wipe away the villainous tears that start to leak from your eyes.  

He gathers you up in his arms, rubbing your back as you finally break down, clenching a handful of his shirt as you finally let go.

“Something is going on, isn’t it?” he whispers softly, and you can only nod against his shoulder.

He lets out a sigh, humming gently as he continues to comfort you.

“I know getting details is like prying teeth from you, but…I need to know….are you pregnant?”

You hiccup, shaking your head immediately, bleating out a sad little, “no.” 

“Good, good…that’s good…you’re not…sick or anything?” 

You manage another shake of your head.

He breathes out a sigh of relief, letting the sounds of you weeping fill the void for a moment before he continues.

“What’s this asshole's name?” He finally inquires.

“He’s-not-an-asshole-” you choke out.

“There it is. I knew it.” he hums, sighing wearily.

You slap at him weakly, trying to pull away but he just holds you close, shushing you as he pets your hair.

“Well, that’s subjective, doll.  He’s making you cry, so he’s an asshole in my book.”

You babble something incoherent to try to disagree, but he merely tuts at you.  

“For someone who writes novels, you’re not convincing me with your words, doll.  Look, you’re ruining my shirt with your snot, and you sound like a drunk turkey.”  

You hit him again, this time a little harder but you can’t help but snort at the ridiculous insult between your pitiful blubbering.

“Idiot. Jerk.” you grumble, calming down a bit and he finally loosens his hold, drawing back slightly to look closely at you.

“Don’t, I’m all icky.” You complain, turning your head and grabbing for your box of tissues.

“Yeah you are; nasty.” he teases and you just toss him a steely glance as you wipe at your nose.

“Hate you,” you grump, trying to clean yourself up.

“You love me, don’t lie. I told you, you’re bad at it.”  He said, rising to his feet to cross his arms at you.

“Whatever.” You huff, then look up at him in apprehension, “I’m not talking about it.”  

He purses his lips at you, chewing the inside of his cheek as he studies you.

“Fine…I’ll drop it for now, but if you need to, talk to one of us, alright? That’s all I’m asking.  I don’t like seeing you tearing yourself apart for some guy. I don’t know your reasons for keeping him a secret from us, but -” he stops, eyes narrowing.

“He’s not married, is he?”

“Wooyoung!” You grab the box of tissues and throw them at him, but he just dodges it easily, “You really think that I could-that I would-?!” 

You can’t help but sputter unintelligibly, offended.

“No, not you but…whatever, fine, I just can’t help but care, alright?”

You let out a long sigh, rubbing a hand over your eyes. 

“It’s not even something bad, I just haven’t been sleeping and I’m trying to meet deadlines..” you gesture to the computer, “I’m sure that’s just making me overly emotional. I’m alright.”

He stays silent, considering your argument as his phone dings with a message.  

“Get lost, I have work to do,” you wave him off, turning back to your computer.

His answering grunt lets you know that he’s checking his phone and you try to refocus as he grumbles about always having something to deal with.

“I’ll be checking on you, or I’ll send someone-” he threatens as he makes his way out.

“Yeah yeah….and hey…Wooyoung?” you call out before he can close the door behind him.

“Hm?” he turns to look at you, pausing in the doorway.

“Thank you.” You give him a grateful smile, and then he’s grinning, bouncing out down the hall as the door closes.

Now if you could convince yourself that you are completely fine, you can hopefully get some of your projects ticked off your list.

You barely notice how often your eyes drift to look at your phone, clinging to that last vestige of hope that it’ll light up with a much anticipated text.

Perhaps it’s because you’re so used to creating imaginary worlds, shaping fiction out of nothing but your fantasies.

Regardless of what keeps you holding on, there’s that small, almost invisible thread you cling to.

He’s come to some kind of harm, he’s in a coma and any day he will wake up; his first call will be you, and-

No, no, he’s stranded on some desert island, having gone out to sea for some unknown reason but he’s been cut off from-

What if he’s hit his head in some foreign land, and he has amnesia-

Aliens abducted-

If you can think of it, your irrational thoughts grasp onto it eagerly, and by the time you’ve spun up some insane story, you’ve kept that little glimmer of hope alive.

Ridiculous, but it's getting you past it.

Right?

Right?

You’ve gone so long without hearing from him, you find yourself not rushing to your phone each time it has a message or call; your life has returned to the routine you had prior to that fateful night.

Yet….

Yet.

There will be those moments, those tiny little glimpses of memories that spiral you right back into that headspace.

Your fingers graze the silver chain hiding beneath your hoodie, the one keepsake you have to remind you it was all real.

At least while it lasted.

Maybe he will come back for it, at the very least?

Your phone dings and you push away from your desk, glancing at the clock to see that it’s well past midday.

Your stomach rumbles and you pat it as you check your messages.

“Hey, our friend is singing tonight at a show, you should come with us and check it out.  If you’re done being a grump ass!”

You just cluck your tongue at Wooyoung’s text, sighing as you open the fridge and are greeted with empty shelves.

Shit, shopping…yeah I should do that.

You glance at your outfit and momentarily think about changing, but you just shrug.

Who cares if you’re wearing baggy jogging pants and a hoodie? 

It’s not like you’re trying to impress anyone.

Not anymore, your mind tosses at you but you tamp down the errant thought.

You reply to Wooyoung, asking for a rain check as you slip on your shoes and make your way to the local grocery.

A little bit of back and forth with him, then getting prodded in your group chat has you laughing at the guys as you grab a few items to get you through the next few days.

Your eyes are locked on the phone, only glancing up to make sure you’re not going to run into anything as you follow the conversation.

“Next time, he’s got a few shows coming up.  He’s good looking too!” Taehyung adds to the discussion.

“Don’t say that in front of him, we’ll never hear the end of it.” Jungkook retorts.

“As bad as Wooyoung?” You are typing out as you hear the sound of a car horn, drawing your attention away from your phone for a moment.

The amused smile freezes on your face as you look up, unable to miss the familiar face staring back at you.

You just stand in shock, people crossing the street all around you as you cling to the bag in your arms.

There he is, those gorgeous cheekbones, that honey skin, that brilliant smile.

You can only gawk in misery at the truth laid out before you.

Your heart trembles in anguish as the last thread that was clinging on for dear life finally loses its hold.

Of all the places you thought you’d see him again, of all the scenarios…

Seeing his picture plastered on an advertisement for a designer brand wasn’t in your rolodex of possibilities.

The massive ad seems to grow larger, as if it’s going to suffocate you.

You’re jostled back to your senses as people grumble at you, questioning randomly why you’re in their way and you grip your bag tightly as you duck your head and rush back home.

By the time you’re slamming your apartment door, as if you can flee from the internal distress twisting your guts.

You mindlessly shuffle into the kitchen, staring off blankly as you think about how amazing he looked, how absolutely fucking breathtaking.

Your hand drifts up to tug at the neck of your hoodie.

Your stomach lurches, and you rush into the bathroom, leaning over the sink as you fight back the urge to get sick.

I should be happy that he’s fine.

Good for him, right?

It’s just a fucking picture.

It’s not like we were ever anything.

Right?

We never actually dated.

I was just a fling.

Then why-?

You glance up at the mirror, wincing at your reflection staring back at you.

The unkempt mess you present contrasts so drastically to that polished, stunning man that you can’t help but let out a bitter laugh.

“You’re a fool.” 

It’s absurd.

Of course, you knew from the beginning that you’d slept with a stranger.

What did you expect?

It’s not like he told me anything untrue.

He didn’t lie, right?

He said he missed me.

So?

Maybe he missed the sex.

Did I really think he was going to date me?

But he made time for me…

Did he? 

Was he really that busy?

I’m so naive.

You let out an exhausted sigh, collecting your thoughts before finally running the water and splashing your face with the cold liquid.

Your brain just keeps going in circles as you dry your face and hands, arguing against that stupid little voice that keeps trying to make excuses.

You don’t even bother putting away the groceries, finding yourself burrowing into your bed as if you can hide from your shame.

As you close your eyes to the world, you tug once more on the neck of your hoodie.

You freeze as you realize that it’s not the hoodie you’re touching.

It was his fucking necklace encircling your throat.

Clawing at it furiously, you sit up and finally manage to unclasp it, flinging it away from you as if it’s on fire.  

With a pathetic whimper, you retreat back under your covers as if that’s some kind of remedy.

Don’t care right now.

You’d somehow twisted up a simple physical affair into some kind of romantic fantasy in your mind.

Did you really think this was some love story?

Guilt at your misunderstanding wars with resentment towards him, but you know that’s not fair.

Still….

How stupid I am.

He’s just fine.

He’s just perfectly fucking fine.

And I’m a complete mess.

[joonslfttiddie]

Holy shit!!! Yoongi is delulu for sure in this one. This is the first fic I've read showing him in this light and it had me on the edge of my seat! Definitely a great read.

Blurred Boundaries

Written for @bangtanwritershq Writing Event: ‘Netflix And Chill’

{Based off Netflix Original "You" Featuring Yoongi} Pairing: Bookseller!Yoongi x Aspiring Writerl!Reader x Boyfriend!Jin Genre: Thriller 🔞Rating: MA WC: 11,694

⚠️Warnings: Obsession, stalking, manipulation, implied violence, smut, unsolicited touch, abduction, drugged, exhibitionism 

Summary: You know something is off about him, but you can't quite put your finger on it. Yoongi seems perfect at first - attentive, intelligent, and always in the right place at the right time—a bookstore manager who understands your writing dreams and who appears to anticipate your every need. What begins as a supportive relationship gradually reveals a deeply obsessive nature and intense fixation. 

Notes: Thank you @downbad4yoongi , @mrsparkjimin18 , @anyamaris, and @pars-ley for beta reading! 

______________________________________________________

The bell above the bookstore door chimes, and I look up from restocking the poetry section. Who do we have here? She walks in, rain-soaked and beautiful, her eyes scanning the shelves with a hunger I immediately recognize– she has to be a writer. My eyes trail her as she runs her fingers along the spines of well-worn collections.

I observe her silently, my mind already cataloging every minute detail. The delicate way she bites her lip when she finds a title that intrigues her. How she tucks a strand of damp hair behind her ear. The slight furrow of her brow as she skims the back cover of a lesser-known poet's work.

Before I consciously realize it, I'm moving toward her, a carefully selected book in hand. Something about her calls to me—not just attraction but something more profound: a sense of connection, of destiny.

"You might like this one," I say softly, offering her a book. Our eyes meet, and in that precise moment, I know my life will never be the same. I will protect her. Understand her. Possess her.

As she discusses the importance of imagery and rhyme schemes in poetry, I am drawn to the curve of her mouth. The way her lips move as she talks is mesmerizing, and I find myself tracing their shape with my eyes. They are full and soft, with just a touch of natural pink color. I nod along, pretending to be engaged in her words, but secretly, I am lost in the beauty of her features.

My mind is several steps ahead, buzzing with excitement. I take mental notes furiously, determined to learn everything I can about her. I will become the perfect companion, the one person who truly understands her. 

This is more than attraction. This will be my life’s purpose.

Yoongi's fingers flew across the keyboard, his eyes fixed on the screen with an intensity that bordered on mania. The soft glow illuminated his face in the darkened room, casting shadows that seemed to dance with each new discovery about you.

Instagram was his first stop. Your profile was a treasure trove of information, and each post was carefully analyzed. A photo at Polar Night Cafe became a mental note that must be your favorite coffee spot. A selfie with a worn copy of Sylvia Plath revealed your literary heroes. Pictures with friends– and a boyfriend– provided names, faces to memorize, and potential obstacles to remove.

Twitter offered glimpses into your mind. Late-night tweets about writer's block and self-doubt. He could be your support, your rock. Retweets of writing competitions. He'd ensure your success, whatever it took. Interactions with other writers. Potential rivals to watch closely. 

LinkedIn painted a tableau of your professional aspirations: A part-time editorial internship at a small publishing house. He could pull strings and open doors. Endorsements praising your creativity. He'd nurture that spark, fan it into a flame.

With each click, each scroll, Yoongi's obsession deepened. He wasn't just learning about you; he was crafting a version of himself perfectly tailored to your needs, your desires. He would become your everything.

Hours passed unnoticed. By the time dawn broke, Yoongi had constructed a comprehensive map of your life. Your routines, dreams, fears – all of it now etched into his mind.

He leaned back, a small smile playing on his lips. This was just the beginning. ______________________________________________________

You push open the bookstore door, seeking refuge from the sudden downpour. The scent of old books and coffee envelops you as you take off your drenched raincoat and hang it on the coat rack conveniently by the entrance. As you step further into the store, your eyes are immediately drawn to the poetry section. It's your sanctuary, a place where words dance on pages and emotions find their voice.

You feel a presence nearby as you run your fingers along the spines of familiar collections. Looking up, you meet the gaze of a man - the bookstore manager, you assume. His soul-searching gaze is unsettling - an intensity, a recognition that seems out of place for a stranger.

"You might like this one," he says softly, offering you a book. His voice is low and melodic. You find yourself drawn in despite your usual wariness of overeager salespeople. You take the book, your fingers brushing against his for a moment. The poet is one you've admired but never mentioned to anyone. 

"I'm Yoongi," he introduces himself with a small smile. "You're a writer, aren't you? I can always tell."

You nod, surprised by his observation. You move to the register to check out, and the conversation flows easily. While talking about poetry and your writing dreams, you can't help but sense that Yoongi connects with you in a way that few others do. It's both comforting and slightly unnerving.

Your phone vibrates with a notification. “Ah. My rides here.” You gather your belongings next to the register and reach out with your hand. “Nice talking with you, Yoongi.” You let go of his hand and walk backward toward the door, “See you around.”

You get into the car's passenger seat, “Hey babes,” you lean over to kiss Jin on the cheek. 

“Yah! What always takes you so long in bookstores? I’ve been waiting forever.”

You giggle as he pulls away. “Sorry, sorry! I got wrapped up in conversation.”

The car slows to a stop at a red light, and Jin throws his head back on the headrest. He turns and smirks, “You're lucky you’re cute, and I’d wait an eternity for you.” ______________________________________________________

The following day, you find yourself slipping through the doorway of Polar Night Cafe, craving your usual afternoon caffeine fix. The rich scent of freshly ground beans immediately embraces you, filling your nostrils and awakening your senses. 

"Hi, I'd like a medium hazelnut latte with soy milk, please." The barista nods, acknowledging your order.

Your eyes scan the cozy interior, quickly settling on a familiar figure in the corner. 

Yoongi sits with his laptop open, his fingers moving at lightning speed across the keyboard. As he catches sight of you, a smile spreads across his face, conveying both surprise and delight at seeing you here.

He calls out your name, waving you over. You freeze in place but still manage to raise your hand, your fingers unconsciously curling into your palm as an uneasy feeling slides through you. You don’t remember telling him your name, but it would’ve been easy for him to see it on your credit card at the bookstore. You also can’t recall ever seeing him here before, and you’ve been coming for months.

The barista calls your name, and you grab your latte before walking toward Yoongi.

"What a coincidence,” he says, “I was just working on some poetry recommendations for the store."

You hesitate for a moment before joining him. As you sip your latte, you begin to realize his suggestions for books to read are a perfectly curated list that aligns seamlessly with your tastes. How effortless it seems for him to understand your literary preferences is almost uncanny. You find yourself drawn in by his insight but also a bit unnerved. ______________________________________________________

Days later, you're at a local writing workshop. As you scan for an empty seat, your peripheral vision catches a familiar silhouette - Yoongi, seated in the shadowed back row. When your eyes meet, his gaze is too steady, too intentional. He slides his hand across the adjacent chair, a gesture that's more an eerie summons than a warm welcome. The movement is slow and calculated. A smile spreads across his face - not quite reaching his eyes.

You hesitate, your body tensing as you consider the only empty chair beside Yoongi. The workshop room suddenly feels smaller, almost claustrophobic. With a mixture of reluctance and an inexplicable sense of being trapped, you slide into the seat.

Your movements are stiff and deliberate - each motion communicating discomfort. You position yourself at the edge of the chair, creating the maximum possible distance between yourself and Yoongi, with your body angled slightly away. 

Throughout the session, you feel his gaze on you. When it's time to share your work with the person beside you, Yoongi’s feedback is insightful, as if he's intimately familiar with your writing style. A shiver runs down your spine - flattery and unease battling for dominance in your mind.

“We should exchange numbers… have more discussions like this,” Yoongi says.

 You hesitate– unable to think of any good reason not to. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”

Yoongi taps his phone to yours, and you watch the screens light up, exchanging information. You watch his smile reach his eyes as he pulls on his beanie, his long hair falling in soft strands that frame his face. 

As you leave the workshop, a knot forms in your stomach the feeling of being watched overwhelms you.

Your phone buzzes. "Great seeing you today. Your writing is captivating. Can't wait to read more."

Your thumb hovers over the block button. But something stops you. Curiosity? Fear? Or perhaps a twisted sense of intrigue?

Days pass, and Yoongi's texts become a constant presence. They're always perfectly timed, as if he knows your schedule. Comments about your day, your writing, and the workshops you’ve signed up for. It's worrisome how much he seems to know. ______________________________________________________

The following week, you're browsing a small bookshop across town, searching for inspiration. You turn a corner and nearly bump into someone. It's Yoongi, of course. He steadies you with a hand on your arm, his touch lingering a moment too long.

"We have to stop meeting like this," he jokes, but an intensity in his eyes makes you wonder if these encounters are truly accidental.

While standing in the same aisle as Yoongi, something nags at your gut. You watch him, suspicion churning in your mind as he carefully flips pages while making small talk– he's always so composed, yet his posture betrays a quiet tension. He runs a hand through his long, shoulder-length hair and asks about your latest novel, offering genuine encouragement and thoughtful critiques. As you listen, it hits you - he always seems to know exactly what to say, almost like he can read your mind.

He somehow knows your favorite authors and quotes them effortlessly. You find yourself second-guessing every word you say, unsure if these are naturally occurring thoughts or leading you to what he wants you to say. As he offers endless support for your writing career, there’s still that gnawing feeling that something about him is off, but you brush it aside as you bask in his attention toward your writing.

As you leave the shop, a nagging thought takes root. How is it that Yoongi keeps popping up wherever you are? The comfort of his presence is slowly giving way to a creeping sense of dismay.

As you walk home, the streetlights cast long shadows, and the evening air is crisp and quiet. Something feels different tonight - a prickling sensation at the back of your neck, like invisible eyes tracking your every movement.

You glance over your shoulder. Nothing. Just empty sidewalks and parked cars. But the feeling persists.

Unconsciously, your pace quickens. You scan the reflections in store windows with your keys clutched between your fingers. For a moment, you think you glimpse a familiar silhouette - dark hair, lean frame. Yoongi? No, impossible. Just your imagination.

When you reach your ground-floor apartment, you pause before entering. The hallway seems too quiet, too still. You check your phone - no messages, no missed calls. Yet the unease remains.

Inside your apartment, you move to the window, kneel on the pillowy window seat, and pull the curtains slightly apart. The street below looks ordinary. Except... is that a person standing in the shadow of the streetlight? Somewhere between one breath and the next, you sense you are being watched. You squint but can't be sure. You shake your head and step away from the window. 

A notification pings from your open laptop sitting on your desk - a writing forum you frequent—a new message. From a username you don't recognize, but the writing style feels eerily familiar.

Your cursor hovers over the notification, a chill creeping up your spine as you click to open it. 

Subject: Your Poetry Speaks To My Soul I read your latest love poem. Interesting how you capture vulnerability - how some men are just... replaceable. Your current boyfriend? He's barely a footnote in the narrative of your potential. I noticed how you describe longing. The spaces between words. The unspoken desires. Your writing suggests you're meant for something more intense—someone who truly understands you. Your current relationship feels like a draft waiting to be edited and refined. Rewritten. Keep writing. I'm always reading. - An Admirer

Your heart rate quickens as you scroll, each word feeling like an invasion. You slam the laptop shut, your fingers tremble, and suddenly feel exposed. You glance at your window, curtains drawn, but for the first time, you wonder if they're truly enough to keep prying eyes out. The familiar comfort of your space now feels tainted, as if unseen eyes are boring into you from every shadow.

You frantically reach for your phone, heart racing with desperation as you search your recent contacts and find Jin’s number. In half a ring, he answers. "Hey," you gasp into the phone, barely able to get the words out. "Are you coming over tonight?”

“Yeah, in a few hou–”

“No! Please, I need you here now." Your voice trembles with urgency and a sense of desperation.

“Everything okay?” Jin asks with concern.

“No. I mean, yes, but… I think someone is stalking me.”

“What? Why do you think that?”

“Please, just hurry.”

“Already on my way, love.”

Jin listens intently as you pace the floor, recounting the recent coincidental yet unsettling events. Then, you show him the message. His brow furrows with concern as he leans over the computer desk, reading the message. 

His voice remains steady and reassuring, "I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere." Jin softly pulls you into a gentle embrace. "You're safe with me."

He takes your hand, his touch grounding you in the present moment. "We should document it and get the police involved if you want. Either now or if you get another message.”

He guides you to the couch, sitting close. "And I'll stay with you as long as you need." Jin's presence and words wash over you like a soothing balm, providing a sense of safety and comfort in the face of uncertainty. 

As Jin continues speaking, his words gradually fade into background noise. His hand rubs your wrist and slowly moves to cup your cheek. The warmth of his palm against your skin sends subtle electricity through your body - a stark contrast to the cold fear from earlier.

Your breathing synchronizes, slowing down. His eyes, deep and intense, lock with yours. There's a moment of absolute stillness where you both seem to breathe the same air. Then he leans in. The kiss is soft, almost tentative. But it quickly transforms - becoming more intense, more urgent. His hand slides from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. 

This isn't just a kiss; it's a statement of protection, of claiming, of total reassurance.

You feel the tension from the anonymous message melt away, replaced by Jin's overwhelming passion. His lips move with a controlled intensity, making you feel safe and breathless. Each kiss feels like he's erasing your fear, replacing anxiety with a pure, visceral connection.

As he leans back, his chest rises and falls in sync with your own, both of you catching your breath after the intensity of the kiss. The air around you feels electric and charged with raw emotion.

He stands and strides toward the window. He pulls back the curtains, allowing moonlight to seep through the window like liquid silver and casting phantom-pale shadows across the window seat's plush cushion. Edges blur where the fabric meets darkness, creating a canvas of soft charcoal and muted grays.

“What are you doing?”

Jin peers outside, searching. “Just looking.” He turns and stretches out a hand, asking you to come to him. 

Outside, the night breathes - a silent, velvet expanse punctuated by distant pinpricks of starlight. Tree branches are ink-black silhouettes, their edges razor-sharp against the dark sky. Each branch moves with imperceptible slowness, a whispered dance too subtle for immediate perception. 

Your bodies are only inches apart. Tension fills the air around you, building with each passing second until it finally breaks. Your lips come back together with a fervent urgency. 

"Let's give ‘em a show," he whispers daringly, his words laced with a hint of mischief and excitement. You giggle, hesitant, but give in to the butterflies swarming in your stomach.

You gently push Jin onto the window seat and straddle his lap. The room fills with intense heat as your bodies move together in a rhythm that feels like pure ecstasy, perfectly synchronized as if they were made for each other. ______________________________________________________

I stand motionless in the shadows across the street, my eyes fixed on the illuminated window above. The moonlight that bathes the scene in ethereal silver seems to mock me, highlighting every detail I wish I could unsee. My fists clench at my sides, my knuckles pale with barely contained fury. Each movement within the window sends a fresh wave of rage coursing through me. The gentle caress, the passionate embrace - every gesture is a dagger twisting in my gut. With each piece of clothing that falls away, my breath comes in short, ragged pants. My eyes burn with a mixture of jealousy and obsession. The intimacy I witness isn't just a betrayal; it's a challenge to my perceived ownership, my twisted sense of entitlement. My nose wrinkles, my eyebrows knit tightly together, and my mouth curls downward in a disapproving frown. The passion I see ignites not desire but a cold, calculating anger that crystallizes into resolve. This display isn't just a show - it's a declaration of war. My mind races with dark possibilities. My eyes never leave the window, drinking in every detail, fueling my obsession and determination to possess what I believe should be mine.

__________________________________________________

A few days have passed since that night when Jin provided you with the comfort you desperately needed, but since then, Jin has become hard to reach, citing an unforeseen family emergency. He rarely mentions his family, and you can't recall any significant details he's shared about them.  But you've only been dating for less than a year.

His absence hangs in the air, a shadow that stubbornly clings to your consciousness. The abruptness of his departure leaves you staring at unanswered calls and a screen full of unread messages, each serving as a silent taunt of the widening gap between you. Confusion, tinged with disbelief and a hint of anger, churns within you, a tangled storm of emotions. You find yourself torn between wanting to understand his sudden retreat and feeling betrayed by his uncharacteristic silence.

As the days stretch into weeks, your mind replays every moment with Jin, searching for clues you might have missed. The warmth of his smile, the gentle touch of his hand - was it all a farce? You try to distract yourself, but everywhere you look, reminders of him linger like stubborn ghosts.

A month later, you're waiting anxiously at the Polar Night Cafe. You spent the last thirty minutes writing in your notebook, but now your fingers are drumming an erratic rhythm on the table. As the clock ticks closer to the time Jin gave you, you fidget with the silverware on the table, trying to calm your nerves. 

Jin appears in the doorway, his usual polished appearance replaced by rumpled clothes and dark circles under his eyes. He approaches with trembling hands. He stands over you, not even bothering to take a seat.

"We need to talk," Jin says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I... I can't do this anymore. We're done."

Before you can respond, he's gone, leaving you stunned and confused. Unsatisfied, you jump up and run through the door, almost knocking someone over. You frantically look both ways down the sidewalk, but he’s nowhere to be seen. __________________________________________________

Jin's shoes scrape against the grimy pavement like nails on a chalkboard as he strides toward the ominous silhouette lurking in the alley. Sweat pours down his forehead in droplets, and his heart thunders in his chest like a war drum. "I did what you asked," he says, forcing his voice to remain steady despite the tremor threatening to break it. "Now promise me you'll leave my family alone."

"Once you're out of this city for good, you have my word," Yoongi's lips twist into a sinister, self-satisfied grin. Jin nods, turning to leave, his shoulders momentarily sagging with relief, yet a gnawing dread remains coiled in the pit of his stomach.

As Jin strides away, vivid flashes of Yoongi's menacing presence in unexpected places – lurking outside Jin's workplace, loitering near his parents' home – replay in his mind with a relentless, haunting intensity. These encounters had been chilling reminders of the ruthless control Yoongi exerted over him.

He vividly recalls the first time Yoongi confronted him, threatening to shatter his family if he didn't end things with you. The memory of photos taken inside his parent’s home, his brother’s place where his nephew played innocently in the yard, had been a suffocating weight, forcing Jin to lie to you and cruelly push you away.

As Jin fades into the night, he clings to the desperate hope that this final act will sever Yoongi's relentless grip. Yet, deep down, he knows the harrowing memories of this ordeal will linger, a dark shadow looming over his life, refusing to ever fully let go. __________________________________________________

Back at your apartment, you place your keys on the entryway table and notice something is missing. You pick the keys up again, searching for the mini book keychain Jin gifted you. You pat your pockets, hoping the keychain simply slipped off inside your coat. Nothing. Saddened, you finish setting your belongings on the table. 

You open your bag to grab your notebook, only to find it’s not there either. Panic rises in your throat. The notebook contains handwritten notes, little inside jokes, and memories you two shared throughout your relationship. 

Losing it feels like the nail in the coffin.

Your mind races, trying to retrace your steps. The last time you remember having the notebook was at the cafe. With a surge of hope, you grab your keys and rush to the door.

You swing the door open and gasp as you nearly run into the figure standing in front of you.

“Yoo–Yoongi? Wh–what are y– How do y–”

“Sorry! I looked up your address at the shop since you weren’t answering.”

You’d been dodging him on purpose. The sight of him standing there, concern etched across his features, sends a jolt through your system. Your heart hammers against your ribcage, a mix of surprise and guilt coursing through your veins. The lost notebook is momentarily forgotten, and you struggle to find words, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

Yoongi's presence fills the doorway. His familiar scent wafts towards you—a blend of sandalwood and pages of old books. It's both comforting and peculiar, stirring up emotions you've been trying to suppress. Your fingers tighten around the keys in your hand, the metal biting into your palm, grounding you.

"I... I've been busy," you manage to stammer, the lie tasting bitter on your tongue. Your eyes dart away from his searching gaze, unable to bear the weight of his scrutiny. The hallway suddenly feels too small, too confining, as if the walls are closing around you both.

Yoongi digs into a satchel hanging on his shoulder, “ Oh, um, I was at the cafe and saw a notebook on one of the tables that looked just like yours." 

Your eyes widen in disbelief as Yoongi produces the familiar notebook from his satchel. A wave of relief washes over you, quickly followed by a surge of conflicting emotions.

You grab the book and clutch it to your chest. The weight of its contents – all those memories of Jin – suddenly feels heavier. You're acutely aware of Yoongi's presence and his kindness in bringing you this piece of you.

"Thank you," you manage, your voice thick with emotion. "This... it means a lot to me."

"I'm glad I could help. I know how important a journal can be to a writer."

There's a pause, heavy with unspoken words. You realize you're still standing in the doorway, Yoongi just outside. 

“Well, I should probably call it a night…do some writing.”

Yoongi runs his fingers through his hair, “Maybe I could help?” 

“Hmm, maybe another time? I–”

“I’d love to help. I mean, I did come all this way with something important to you,” his smile makes him feel more friendly, but his words…

“Oh, um, sure. I guess for a little while.” 

As Yoongi steps inside, the air seems to thicken with tension. You clutch the notebook tighter as if it could shield you from the whirlwind of emotions swirling within. Yoongi's eyes dart around your apartment, taking in the details before settling back on you.

"Nice place," he comments, his voice low and smooth. "Cozy."

You nod, unsure of what to say. The silence stretches between you, filled only by the soft ticking of a clock on the wall. Yoongi takes a step closer, and you instinctively take a step back.

"So," he begins, his gaze intense, "what kind of writing were you planning on doing?"

Your mind races, trying to come up with a plausible answer. "Just... just some personal stuff. Nothing special."

Yoongi's eyes narrow slightly, something unreadable passing across his face. "Personal stuff, huh?" He takes another step closer, his presence overwhelming in the small entryway. "You know, I couldn't help but notice some of the things written in that notebook when I found it."

Your breath hitches, panic surging at the thought of Yoongi reading the intimate details of your relationship with Jin. You clutch the notebook even tighter, your knuckles turning white.

"You... you read it?" you whisper, barely audible.

Yoongi shows an unsettling grin. "Just a glimpse. Enough to make me curious." He reaches out, his fingers brushing against the cover of the notebook. You flinch, but don't pull away. "Who's Jin?"

The sound of Jin's name rolling off Yoongi's tongue sends a shiver down your spine. You swallow hard, your throat tightening as dryness creeps in.

"He's... he was...my boyfriend, but he broke up with me," you stammer, still not over the events leading to his disappearance from your life.

Yoongi's eyes never leave yours, his gaze intense and searching. "Was?" he prompts gently, but there's an undercurrent of something else in his voice. Curiosity? Jealousy?

The words hang heavy in the air between you. Yoongi's expression softens, a mix of surprise and sympathy crossing his features. But there's something else there, a glimmer of... cockiness?

The tension in the room shifts, becoming more complex. Yoongi takes a small step back, giving you some space. "I'm sorry," he says softly. "That must be hard."

You nod, feeling a lump form in your throat. The notebook, filled with memories and unresolved emotions, becomes heavier in your hands.

"Is that why you've been avoiding me?" Yoongi asks, his voice gentle but probing.

You look up at him, seeing the concern in his eyes. It's a moment of vulnerability, and you realize you're at a crossroads. Do you open up to Yoongi about your past with Jin and your current emotional state? Or do you maintain the walls you've built?

"It's... complicated," you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Yoongi nods slowly, understanding dawning on his face. "You know, it's okay to lean on friends sometimes," he says, his tone warm. "You don't have to go through everything alone."

His words strike a chord within you, and you feel a mix of gratitude and apprehension. 

The tension between you grows thick. Yoongi's eyes never leave yours, an intensity simmering beneath his calm exterior.

"I can make some tea," you say, breaking the tension. Your hands tremble slightly as you move toward the kitchen, setting the notebook on the dining table.

Yoongi doesn't respond immediately. When you glance back, he's studying the notebook, his fingers tracing its edges with an almost possessive carefulness. 

"Sure," he says finally, his voice smooth. "Tea sounds good." __________________________________________________

Months blur together as you grapple with the sudden breakup. One person, though, appears consistently, offering comfort and understanding. He showers you with attention, sending thoughtful gifts and messages filled with praise.

His words linger in your mind: "You deserve so much better." "I've always seen how special you are." 

Yoongi's presence becomes a constant in your life, a soothing balm to the raw wound Jin left behind. His attentiveness is a stark contrast to Jin's abrupt departure, and you find yourself drawn to his unwavering support.

His gifts become more extravagant, his compliments more effusive. He insists on always knowing your whereabouts, citing concern for your safety. When you mention spending time with others, his mood shifts abruptly.

The whirlwind attention that once felt exhilarating now leaves you feeling trapped and confused as your world shrinks to revolve mainly around Yoongi. You try to shake off the nagging doubts, focusing instead on his attentiveness. But the unease lingers, a constant whisper in the back of your mind.

As your worry grows, Yoongi seems to sense your hesitation. His approach shifts subtly, becoming less suffocating and more alluring. One evening, he surprises you with a candlelit dinner at his place.

"I know I can be intense," Yoongi admits, his vulnerability disarming. "I just want to make you happy."

His gaze locks onto yours, and you can't help but feel your walls start to crumble. 

Suddenly, Yoongi's hand brushes against yours, igniting a surge of electricity through your body.

"Let me show you how much you mean to me," he whispers, pulling you close.

His kiss is electric, evoking a passion you didn't know you possessed. Your doubts fade as desire takes over. Clothing falls away as you lose yourself in Yoongi's touch, his intensity now thrilling rather than frightening.

Yoongi's attentiveness translates into an uncanny ability to anticipate your every desire. Each touch, each kiss feels perfectly calibrated to drive you wild. 

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” Yoongi whispers as he tugs at your underwear. 

“Wait.” You pull away from his embrace. “I-I’m not ready to–”

“Shh. It’s okay.” Yoongi slides his hand away, lightly resting on your lower back. “I’ve waited this long; I can wait some more.”

You relax into his arms, grateful for his understanding. But as you gaze into Yoongi's dark eyes, you see a flicker of something else - frustration, perhaps even anger, quickly masked behind a gentle smile. 

"Thank you," you murmur, nestling your head in the crook of his neck. 

Yoongi strokes your hair softly. "Anything for you, my love. You're worth waiting for."

There's a magnitude to Yoongi's devotion that thrills and unsettles you. As you drift off to sleep in his arms, you can't shake the feeling that you're being drawn deeper into something you may not fully understand. __________________________________________________

You wake to the scent of coffee and the soft rustling of sheets. Yoongi's warm body is pressed against yours, his arm draped possessively over your waist. As your eyes flutter open, you find him gazing at you with adoration and hunger.

"Good morning, beautiful," he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. His fingers trace lazy patterns on your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "I've never felt this way about anyone before," he confesses, his voice low and intense. "You're mine now, you know that, right?"

Something in his tone makes you pause, a flicker of your earlier hesitance resurfacing. But then Yoongi's lips find yours in a searing kiss, and all thoughts of doubt melt away. You lose yourself in the heat of his mouth, the possessive grip of his hands. 

When you finally break apart, breathless, Yoongi's eyes are dark with desire. "I need you," he growls, rolling on top of you. His weight pins you to the mattress as his lips trail down your neck. 

You gasp as he nips at your collarbone, pleasure with a pinch of pain. "Yoongi," you breathe, tangling your fingers in his hair.

He lifts his head, gaze burning into yours. "Say it," he demands. "Tell me you're mine."

A tiny voice in the back of your mind whispers a warning, but you ignore it. "I'm yours," you whisper.

Yoongi's answering smile is triumphant. "Good girl," he purrs, resuming his passionate ministrations.

“Wait.” He ignores your plea. He pushes his tongue against yours. You try to turn your head away, but he’s moved his hands to keep you in place. “Yoongi, stop,” you mumble as best you can. You push against his chest, trying to create some space between your bodies. "Yoongi, please," you say more firmly.

His eyes flutter with annoyance, but he rolls off you, propping himself up on one elbow. "What's wrong now?" he asks, voice tight with barely contained frustration.

You sit up, pulling the sheet around yourself. "I... this is all too fast. We… it’ hasn’t been that long–"

Yoongi's jaw clenches. "Hasn’t been that long? We’ve been dating for months!”

“Whoa, dating?”

“I thought we were on the same page here. You just said you were mine."

"I–but—"

"But what?" he snaps, sitting up fully now. "Are you playing games with me?"

You shake your head, fear creeping in at his sudden mood shift. "No, of course not. I just need to slow down–a little. I care about you, Yoongi, but this intensity is overwhelming."

His eyes narrow dangerously. "Overwhelming? I thought this was what you wanted." He reaches for you, gripping your wrist tightly. "You can't tease me like this and then back out."

You try to pull away, but his grip is like iron. "Yoongi, you're hurting me."

For a moment, his fingers tighten further. Then, abruptly, he releases you. You scramble backward on the bed, heart pounding.

Yoongi runs a hand through his hair, visibly trying to calm himself. "I'm sorry," he says, voice low. "I just... I love you so much. The thought of losing you is driving me crazy."

You rub your wrist, eyeing him warily. "What do you mean love?” You’re shocked at everything coming from his mouth.

Yoongi's eyes darken at your question. "What do you mean, 'what do I mean'? Of course I love you. I've loved you since the moment I first saw you."

A chill runs down your spine at the intensity in his voice. You try to keep your tone calm as you respond, "Yoongi, we barely know each other. Love takes time to–"

He shakes his head vehemently. "No, you don't understand. What we have is special, it's different. I’ve never felt this way before."

“Yoongi I–” You need to choose your words carefully. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

He grabs your hand and kisses it, “I’ll go get your coffee.” 

You rush into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind you, locking it with a sense of urgency that blurs the line between seeking solace and desperate escape. You crank the faucet to its maximum, water roaring as you clamp a hand over your mouth, trying to suppress the relentless thundering of your heart. You splash water on your face, feeling it cascade chaotically over the counter, and stare hard at your reflection in the mirror, your face pale and gaunt as fear courses down your spine.

In the mirror, a sudden black shape jutting from the ceiling tile arrests your attention, making your heart skip a beat. The faucet's roar fills your ears. You climb onto the toilet, lift the ceiling tile with trembling hands, and cautiously probe the hidden space above, torn apart by the conflicting forces of curiosity and dread. Your fingers close around some fabric and a solid object, and you pull them down, your mind swirling with possibilities.

Tink. A smaller object clatters onto the ceramic floor, and you freeze, breath caught in your throat. Your eyes dart to the door, bracing for his voice. Carefully stepping down from the toilet, you retrieve the item, nearly losing your footing, caught in a mix of relief and fear. You shut off the faucet, collapsing onto the toilet, your eyes scanning the items with a tumultuous mix of emotions.

There it is—a little book keychain from Jin, thought to be lost forever. A black lingerie bodice you distinctly remember discarding in a fit of heartbreak after Jin left you. And a notebook. Your notebook. The repository of clandestine messages between you and Jin, returned to you by Yoongi. Tears brim, teetering on the edge of release, as a storm of emotions churns violently within you, just as Yoongi's voice pierces the fragile silence from the other side of the door.

"Are you alright in there?" Yoongi's voice is laced with concern, but it sends a chill down your spine.

You quickly shove the items back where you found them, your hands trembling. "Y-yes, I'm fine," you call out, trying to keep your voice steady. "Just feeling a bit dizzy."

"Do you need help?" The doorknob rattles slightly, and you're grateful you locked it.

"No, I'll be out in a minute," you reply, frantically trying to compose yourself.

Your mind races. Why does Yoongi have these things? How long has he been collecting them? The implications are terrifying, but you force yourself to take deep breaths. You need to act normal, to buy time to figure out what to do.

You flush the toilet and run the water again, splashing your face again. In the mirror, you see a pale, wide-eyed version of yourself staring back. You take a deep breath, willing your expression to calm. As you reach for a towel to dry your face, you glance at the ceiling, ensuring nothing looks out of place. You unlock the door and step out, forcing a weak smile.

Yoongi's dark eyes search your face, concern etched in his features. "You look pale. Maybe you should lie down for a bit."

"That's probably a good idea," you murmur, allowing him to guide you to the bed. 

You perch on the edge of the bed, your fingers gripping the rumpled sheets, your heart pounding with indecision. Your thoughts swirl in a chaotic dance, a tangled web of plans that beckon you forward and hesitations that hold you back. 

“Actually, I–I think maybe– I’m just hungry.” You force a smile.

Yoongi nods, reaching out to stroke your cheek. His touch makes you flinch involuntarily, and his eyes narrow slightly.

"Why don't you get dressed, and we can go grab some breakfast?" he suggests, his tone casual but his gaze intense.

You nod, clutching the mug like a lifeline. "That sounds good. I'll just... change real quick."

As you turn to grab your clothes, your mind races.  

You try to keep your movements calm and deliberate as you pull on your clothes, but your hands shake. The items you found in the bathroom ceiling have shattered your world. How long has Yoongi been watching you? How did he get those things? And most disturbingly, how much does he know about your relationship with Jin? Why did he make a copy of your notebook?

You can feel Yoongi's eyes on you as you dress, his gaze burning into your back. You desperately need to find your phone and call for help, but you're afraid of what he might do if he catches you. You need to get out of here, but you have to be smart about it.

"Ready to go?" Yoongi asks, his voice deceptively light.

You turn to face him, plastering on a smile. "Yes, let's go."

As you walk out of the bedroom, Yoongi's hand settles on the small of your back, guiding you. His touch feels possessive, almost threatening now. You fight the urge to pull away, knowing you need to play along until you can find a way out.

As you reach the front door, Yoongi suddenly pauses. "Oh, I almost forgot," he says, reaching into his pocket. "I have something for you."

Your heart races as he pulls out a small velvet box. He opens it to reveal a delicate silver necklace with his name engraved on a pendant. "To show the world you're mine," he says with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

You force yourself to smile back as he fastens it around your neck. The pendant feels like a collar, marking you as his possession. "It's beautiful," you lie.

Yoongi beams, pulling you close for a kiss. You let him kiss you, trying not to recoil at his touch. As his lips press against yours, your mind races, searching for a way out of this nightmare.

When he finally pulls away, you manage a weak smile. "Thank you, Yoongi. It's lovely."

He nods, satisfied, and opens the door. As you step outside, you take a deep breath of fresh air, feeling like you can finally breathe again. But Yoongi's hand is still on your back, a constant reminder of your precarious situation.

As you walk to his car, you scan the street, hoping to see a neighbor or anyone who might help. But the street is deserted this early on a weekend morning. 

Yoongi opens the passenger door for you, ever the gentleman. As you slide in, you notice your phone is missing from your purse. Your stomach drops as you realize he must have taken it while you were in the bathroom. You try to keep your face neutral as panic rises in your chest.

Yoongi gets in the driver's seat and starts the car. As he pulls out of the driveway, you clear your throat. "Um, I think I left my phone inside, I’ll–"

His knuckles whiten on the steering wheel. "You don’t need it; it’ll be there when we get back."

You nod, "Okay, yeah."

As Yoongi drives, you stare out the window, desperately trying to formulate a plan. You need to get away from him, but without your phone, you feel helpless. You consider making a run for it when you stop at a red light, but Yoongi's hand suddenly grips your thigh as if sensing your thoughts.

"Everything okay, beautiful?" he asks, his tone light but his eyes sharp.

You force a smile. "Yes, just hungry."

He nods, seemingly satisfied, but his hand remains on your leg as he drives—your mind races, trying to think of a way out. Then, you spot a busy cafe up ahead.

"Oh, can we stop there?" you ask, pointing. "I love their pastries."

Yoongi hesitates, then nods. "Sure, why not?"

As he parks, you see your chance. "I'll run in and grab us something," you offer. "What would you like?"

"I'll come with you," he says, reaching for his seatbelt.

"No!" you say too quickly. You soften your tone, trying to cover your panic. "I mean, you don't have to. It'll just take a minute. Why don't you find a good parking spot? The street's pretty crowded."

Yoongi studies you for a long moment, his dark eyes unreadable. Finally, he nods. "Alright. I’ll have a chocolate croissant."

You force a smile. "Of course. I'll be right back."

As you step out of the car, your legs feel shaky. You walk towards the cafe, fighting the urge to run. You can feel Yoongi's eyes on you as you push open the door.

Inside, the cafe is bustling with morning customers. You scan the room frantically, looking for help. Your eyes land on a young woman behind the counter. As you approach, you lean in close.

"Please," you whisper urgently, "I need help. The man I'm with—he's dangerous. Can you call the police?"

The barista's eyes widen in alarm. She gives a slight nod, reaching for her phone under the counter. 

"What can I get started for you?" she asks loudly for the benefit of anyone listening.

You rattle off Yoongi's order, then add, "And I'll have whatever sandwich takes the longest, please."

As she rings you up, you glance nervously towards the door. Through the window, you can see Yoongi's car idling at the curb. He's watching the cafe intently.

"The police are on their way," the barista murmurs as she hands you a receipt. "Just try to stay calm and keep him here if you can."

You nod gratefully, moving to the side to wait for your order. Your heart pounds as you watch the door, praying the police arrive before Yoongi gets suspicious. 

Suddenly, the bell above the door chimes. You freeze as Yoongi walks in, his eyes immediately finding you. 

"I thought I'd join you after all," he says, his voice low as he reaches your side. His hand grips your arm tightly. "What's taking so long?"

You force a smile, trying to keep your voice steady. "Just a busy morning. Our order should be up soon."

Yoongi's eyes narrow as he scans the cafe and locks eyes with the barista. You can see the suspicion growing in his gaze. "Let's go," he says abruptly. "We can get breakfast somewhere else."

"But I've already paid," you protest weakly.

His grip on your arm tightens painfully. "I said, let's go," he growls, his voice low and dangerous.

You glance desperately at the barista, watching the exchange with wide eyes. She gives you a slight nod, mouthing, "Any minute now."

But Yoongi is already pulling you towards the door. You stumble, trying to slow him down without being too obvious. "Yoongi, please," you plead. "Can't we just wait for our order?"

His eyes flash with anger. "What's going on?" he demands. "Why are you acting so strange?"

Your heart races as you search for an excuse. "I-I'm just not feeling well," you stammer. "I think I need to sit down for a minute."

Yoongi pulls you toward the door. "Miss, your order is ready," the barista calls out, her voice steady despite the tension in the air.

Yoongi freezes, his grip on your arm loosening slightly. You can see the conflict in his eyes - his desire to leave warring with his need to maintain appearances. 

"Of course," he says smoothly, turning back to the counter. "We wouldn't want to waste good coffee and food, would we?"

As you approach the counter, you notice the barista's hand trembling slightly as she passes over your drinks. Her eyes meet yours, and you see a flicker of fear there. You want to reassure her, to tell her everything will be okay, but you know better than to draw Yoongi's attention.

"Lovely weather we're having," the barista says with forced cheerfulness, her eyes darting between you and Yoongi. You appreciate her trying to stall him.

Yoongi's jaw clenches. "Yes, lovely," he replies curtly, cutting off any further conversation. He snatches the drinks from the counter, spilling a bit in his haste.

You feel a chill run down your spine as his eyes narrow, scanning the cafe once more. His paranoia is palpable, and you know he senses something is amiss.

"Let's sit," you suggest quickly, hoping to diffuse the tension. "Just for a minute."

Yoongi hesitates as if he will sit, then shakes his head and guides you out the door. You look back and see the barista talking to other workers. Yoongi’s steps are fast, and before you know it, you're driving away from the cafe, just as blue lights flicker in the car’s side view mirror.

The drive is tense, filled with loaded silence and Yoongi's tight grip on the steering wheel. Noticing you’re getting further from his place and out of the city.

“Yoongi? Where are you going?”

As you wind up narrow mountain roads, isolation settles over you like a heavy blanket.

“I think you just need some time out of the city air, ya know. Somewhere less polluted and more quiet for your creative juices to ignite. You haven’t written in days.”

Your blood runs cold at his words. "I... I don't need to go anywhere," you say, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice. "Please, can we just go back? My phone."

Yoongi's jaw clenches. "Don't you trust me?" he asks, his tone dangerously soft. "I'm only trying to help you, to take care of you. You know how much I love you."

The word 'love' makes you flinch. This isn't love - it's obsession. You glance out the window, watching as the city fades away, replaced by dense forest. 

You realize with growing dread that if Yoongi takes you somewhere remote, your chances of escape or rescue will plummet.

"Yoongi, please," you try again, fighting to keep your voice steady. "I appreciate the thought, but I really don't feel well. Can we please just go back?"

He smacks the steering wheel, "Why are you fighting this? I'm doing this for us. For our future together."

A chill runs down your spine at his words. "Sorry.”

He reaches over, gripping your hand tightly. "Don't worry, baby. We're almost there. You'll feel better soon."

You swallow hard, fighting back tears. "Where exactly are we going?"

Yoongi's smile is unsettling. "It's a surprise. A special place just for us."

Somehow, you drifted off to sleep, only waking up to the sound of the tires compressing and breaking the snow beneath them. In front of you, a small, secluded cabin nestled in the woods. Yoongi pulls up to it and kills the engine.

"Welcome home," he says, his eyes gleaming with an intensity that chills you to the bone.

You stare at the cabin, your heart pounding. It's surrounded by trees. No neighbors in sight. No one to hear you scream.

"Isn't it perfect?" Yoongi asks, squeezing your hand. "I've been preparing it for weeks. Now we can be alone, just the two of us."

You force a smile, trying to hide your terror. "It's... lovely. But Yoongi, don’t you have work? We can't stay here."

His expression darkens. "Work doesn't matter anymore. I'll take care of everything."

As he gets out of the car, you frantically search for an escape. But he's already at your door, opening it.

"Come on, beautiful. Let me show you around."

With shaking legs, you step out. Yoongi's arm wraps around your waist, guiding you toward the cabin. You notice thick curtains covering all the windows. The front door looks like one solid slab of wood. Yoongi pulls out a key and unlocks it, ushering you inside.

The interior is surprisingly cozy, with plush furniture and warm lighting. But your eyes are drawn to the details that send chills down your spine - no visible phone or computer, the bars on the windows, an open pantry stocked with enough food to last for weeks.

"What do you think?" Yoongi asks, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "I've thought of everything we'll need."

You force a smile, trying to keep your voice steady. "It's... very thorough. You've clearly put a lot of thought into this."

Yoongi beams, pulling you closer. "Of course I have. I want everything to be perfect for us."

As he leads you on a tour of the cabin, pointing out all the amenities he's prepared, your mind races. You need to find a way to contact someone, anyone, for help. But there's no phone in sight, and you doubt Yoongi will let you out of his sight long enough to search for one.

"And here's the bedroom," Yoongi says, opening the last door. Your breath catches as you see the large bed dominating the room, covered in rose petals. On the nightstand, you spot a framed photo of yourself - one you don't remember taking.

"When did you take that picture?"

He simply chuckles, and then your eyes are drawn to metal rings bolted to the bedposts. Your breath catches in your throat as you realize their purpose.

You feel your heart rate spike as you stare at those metal rings, your mind conjuring horrifying scenarios. Yoongi follows your gaze and smiles, a predatory glint in his eyes.

"Just a precaution," he says softly, running his hand down your arm. "In case you get any ideas about leaving me."

You swallow hard, trying to keep your voice steady. "Yoongi, this is... this is too much. We need to go back. People will be looking for me…for us."

His grip on your arm tightens painfully. "No one will look for you here. I've taken care of everything."

Panic rises in your chest as the full gravity of your situation sinks in. You're trapped here, miles from civilization, with a man who's clearly unhinged.

"Please," you whisper, tears welling in your eyes. "Let me go. This isn't right, Yoongi. You can't keep me here against my will."

His expression darkens, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "I'm not keeping you against your will. You want to be here with me. You love me."

"No, I don't," you scream, finding a sudden surge of courage. "This isn't love, Yoongi. It's obsession. You need help."

For a moment, hurt flashes across his face. Then, his features harden into a mask of anger. "You don't mean that," he growls. "You're just confused. You'll see how perfect we are together."

He grabs your wrist, pulling you towards the bed. You struggle against his grip, panic rising. "Stop! Let me go!"

But Yoongi is stronger, easily overpowering you. He pushes you onto the bed, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand. With the other, he reaches for one of the metal rings.

"I didn't want to have to do this," he says, his voice eerily calm. "But you leave me no choice. You'll thank me later when you realize that we belong together."

You flail wildly, your limbs jerking in a frantic attempt to escape, but every movement feels futile against the relentless grip holding you in place. Rough cloth coils tightly around your wrists, threading through cold, unforgiving metal rings that clink softly with each struggle.  Tears stream down your face as Yoongi moves to secure your other arm.

"Please," you sob. "Yoongi, this isn't you. Let me go and we can get you help."

He pauses, cupping your face gently. "Shh, it's okay. I know you're scared right now, but you'll see. This is for the best."

Your mind races frantically as he secures your other wrist. You need to keep him talking, buy yourself time to think of a way out of this nightmare.

"How long have you been planning this?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

Yoongi smiles, running his fingers through your hair. "For months. Ever since I first saw you. I knew then that you were meant to be mine."

A chill runs down your spine at his words. "But we barely know each other. How can you be so sure?"

His eyes darken. "I know everything about you. Your favorite foods, the songs you listen to when you're sad, how you take your coffee in the morning. I've been watching you.

Yoongi chuckles darkly. "No one's going to find you here. I've covered all our tracks." He leans in close, his breath hot on your ear. "It's just you and me now. Forever."

A chill runs down your spine at his words. You squeeze your eyes shut, willing this to be a nightmare you'll wake up from. But the cold metal biting into your wrists is all too real.

Yoongi stands, admiring his handiwork. "There. Now, you can't do anything foolish." His eyes roam over your restrained form, a possessive gleam in them that makes your skin crawl.

“I need you." He leans in closer, his hand caressing your cheek. "And I'll make you see how perfect we are together."

You wrench your face away from his touch, your heart pounding.

His jaw clenches. "You just don't understand yet. But you will." He turns away, heading for the door. "I'll give you some time to think. When I come back, you'll see things differently."

As the door closes behind him, you hear the unmistakable sound of a lock clicking into place.

Left alone, you frantically pull at the restraints, but they hold fast. Your wrists ache from the effort as tears of frustration and fear stream down your face. You force yourself to take deep breaths, trying to calm your racing thoughts.

You need to find a way out of this nightmare. But how? You're restrained, locked in a remote cabin with no phone or way to contact help. And Yoongi, the man you thought you knew, has become a terrifying stranger.

You scan the room, searching for anything that might help you escape. Your eyes land on the framed photo on the nightstand. If you could somehow reach it, maybe you could use the glass to cut the cloth.

You strain against the restraints, inching your body towards the edge of the bed. Pain shoots through your shoulders as you stretch, toes just barely grazing the frame.

Just as your toes brush the edge of the frame, you hear footsteps approaching. Quickly, you pull back, trying to appear as if you haven't moved. Your heart pounds as the lock clicks and the door swings open.

Yoongi enters, carrying a cup of water. His eyes roam over you, checking that you're still securely restrained. "I thought you might be thirsty," he says, setting the cup on the nightstand.

You eye the water longingly, suddenly aware of how parched you are. Yoongi notices and smiles. "Would you like some water?" he asks, picking up the glass.

“I would like to be untied.”

He brings the glass of water to your lips, encouraging a few sips.“Will you be good if I do?”

You nod.

Yoongi sets the water down and straddles you, hands resting on the headboard. “You look so beautiful under me. Can you promise not to say no tonight? Can we take our relationship to the next level?”

Your chest rattles with your breath as you stare blankly back at Yoongi. You nod once, and he starts undoing the cuffs.

“Let’s get you changed into something more comfortable.” He pulls out one of his t-shirts from a drawer and motions for you to get changed. You do. You only need to make it to the front door.

In the living room, Yoongi's mood brightens. He pours wine to go with some finger sandwiches, lights a fire, and pulls you close. His lips are more possessive, his hands gripping you tighter than usual. You try to relax into his embrace, but your body remains tense.

As you sip the wine, a bitter taste lingers, and after a few minutes, your vision begins to blur. Is there something in the wine? You force a smile, trying to reassure Yoongi that everything is fine, but your mind is racing. You need to get out of here, and fast.

"I–I need to use the restroom," you say, trying to sound casual despite the panic rising inside.

Yoongi's grip loosens slightly as he nods, his eyes never leaving yours. You take the opportunity to step away, legs feeling heavy and uncoordinated due to the wine.

You make a dash for the door, heart pounding in your chest. Yoongi's voice calls out behind you, but you don't look back. You fumble with the door handle, fingers slipping due to the numbness spreading through your body.

Just as you manage to open the door, Yoongi catches up, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you back. You struggle against him, but your strength is fading. With a final sprint out the door, you stumble into the night, gasping for air, but you are free. You let out a sigh of relief before you feel faint and begin to fall.

Yoongi catches you as you stumble, lifting you effortlessly. "Shh, it's okay. I got you. You're safe with me," he whispers, carrying you back to the bedroom.

Your limbs feel heavy and unresponsive. Panic rises in your chest as you realize you can't move. Yoongi lays you gently on the bed, his fingers trailing down your cheek.

"You've been pulling away from me," he says softly. "I can't let that happen. Don't you see? We're meant to be together. Forever."

His fingers slide your shirt just above your hips. You try to protest, but your tongue feels thick in your mouth. Only a weak moan escapes your lips.

"Shh, don't fight it," Yoongi soothes. "Just relax. Let me take care of you."

His hands roam your body, each touch sparking a flicker of fear that spreads like wildfire through your veins. You want to scream, to push him away, but your body remains paralyzed. Tears of frustration and terror leak from the corners of your eyes as Yoongi's touches become more intimate.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. "I knew from the moment I saw you that you would be mine."

His words, once thrilling, now send chills down your spine. You struggle to keep your eyes open, fighting against whatever the wine is laced with. Through the haze, you see a glint of metal on the nightstand - a syringe and a small vial.

Yoongi notices your gaze and smiles. "Don't worry, my love. That will help you relax even more. Soon, you'll forget all about wanting to leave me."

You struggle to move, to speak, but your body remains unresponsive. Yoongi's hands resume their exploration of your skin, his touch both familiar and terrifying.

"I've waited so long for this," he breathes. "To have you all to myself, with no distractions. No one to come between us."

As he speaks, his fingers trail down to the waistband of your underwear. With agonizing slowness, he begins to pull at them. You try to summon every ounce of willpower to move, to resist, but your limbs remain leaden.

"Shh," Yoongi soothes. "I know you're scared, but I promise I'll take good care of you. You'll learn to love this – to love me – completely."

Yoongi pulls away and undresses himself, exposing his full erection. 

You shake your head as best you can as tears spill down your face. 

“Don’t worry, I’d never force you…I’ll just show you what you could have.”

Yoongi's eyes darken with desire as he drinks in the sight of you. A chill runs across your exposed skin.

"Perfect," he murmurs. "You're absolutely perfect."

His one hand ghosts over your thigh, and the other grips his dick loosely. Your body begins to respond to his touch. Shame and arousal warring within you as Yoongi's fingers dance closer to your core.

"Soon you’ll beg for it," his voice a harsh rasp. His words repulse you.

His fist circles him, raises, and lowers as arousal drips from his tip. Your slightest movement makes him hiss with desire. “Imagine my dick inside you, making us both feel so good, and you calling my name. Say it. Say my name.” 

Despite the horrifying situation you find yourself in, you obey merely to stay unharmed. "Yoongi..." 

He doesn't miss a beat, interpreting your compliance as encouragement. "That's it, baby. Imagine me making you feel good." His voice was soothing, at odds with the coldness in his eyes. “I can only imagine how good I’d feel inside you, filling you up, sliding in and out.”

Yoongi's hand moves faster on his shaft as he watches you intently. His eyes gleam with satisfaction as his movements become more urgent, his breathing heavy with anticipation. His free hand lands on your thigh and squeezes too hard, eliciting a groan from you.

“Fuck, I want to hear you under me. You're so beautiful like this," Yoongi murmurs. "Completely at my mercy." His ministrations intensify as he works himself closer to release. As his climax approaches, his grip on you tightens, his fingers digging deeper into your skin. 

 You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to block out the sight of Yoongi pleasuring himself. But you can't escape the sounds - his ragged breathing, the slick noises of his hand on his shaft, the occasional grunt or moan. Your skin crawls where he touches you, but you can’t pull away.

"Look at me," Yoongi commands harshly. 

Reluctantly, you open your eyes. His face is flushed, eyes dark with lust as they roam over your body. You feel exposed and vulnerable. 

"That's it," he pants. "Watch me come for you."

His movements become erratic as he nears his peak. With a strangled groan, Yoongi climaxes, spilling onto his hand and stomach. Some lands on your thigh, and you flinch.  

For a moment, the only sound is Yoongi's heavy breathing as he comes down from his high. His eyes remain fixed on you as he shows a satisfied smirk.

"Good girl," he murmurs, reaching out to caress your cheek. You feel the urge to recoil from his touch. "You did so well for me."

Yoongi grabs a tissue from nearby, cleaning himself off with casual nonchalance. Your skin crawls where his release landed on you, but you can't move to wipe it away.

"Now," he says, voice low and dangerous. "Tell me you want your reward."

Your heart races as Yoongi shifts closer, his hand sliding up your inner thigh. You want to scream, to fight, to run - but whatever he dosed you with keeps you frozen in place.

Distant sirens wail, a haunting sound that sets your pulse pounding in your ears. Yoongi's gaze darts between the bedroom door and your eyes, his face a mask of urgency and fear. 

“What did you say at that cafe?” he demands. Without waiting for an answer, he bolts from the room, leaving you suspended in a moment that stretches endlessly.

When Yoongi returns, his movements are frantic, his focus solely on the nightstand. Your eyes track his every move, your breaths turning shallow and rapid. “No! Yoongi, please!” you plead, your voice cracking with desperation.

“You did this! All I wanted was forever with you! You messed it up!” he shouts, his voice raw with betrayal as his hands tremble, drawing liquid from the small vial into the syringe. His anger is a palpable force, overshadowed only by the sheen of unshed tears in his eyes. He climbs onto the bed beside you, his expression a mix of sorrow and determination. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.” His grip is firm yet gentle as he restrains your arm, carefully sliding the needle into your vein. “I’m so sorry. So, so, sorry.”

The world blurs around you, a dizzying spiral that pulls you down. You struggle to maintain focus, blinking slowly to anchor yourself. Yoongi leans close, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, and whispers, “I love you.”

And then, everything dissolves into darkness.

__________________________________________________

There was a moment when everything began to blur—the boundary between love and obsession, trust and control, reality and the story I weaved for you. I saw it happen, subtle at first, like a smudge on an otherwise pristine page. You didn’t notice it, and that was the beauty of it. You believed in the lines I drew for you, the ones I carefully blurred with every passing day. 

I knew exactly how to write myself into your world: the attentive listener, the quiet presence you leaned on more and more. You didn’t question how I always knew the right words to say or why I seemed to appear just when you needed me most. I was careful, deliberate, and precise. I gave you exactly what you needed, until I became the only thing you needed.

Now, from this grimy motel room, your picture in my hands and a new laptop glowing before me, I wonder if you’re thinking about me as much as I’m thinking about you. I replay the CCTV feed; the fluorescent lights of the police station flicker faintly as you’re sitting there, your hands trembling as you hand over the photographs. I know which one you linger on—the one you took when you still believed I was something good.

A slow smile tugs at my lips as I imagine it. You’re unraveling, just as I knew you would.

The detective’s words about serial killers and geographic patterns amuse me. They think they know me, that they’ve pieced together the puzzle. They don’t realize I’m not bound by their definitions. To them, it’s about profiles and patterns. To me, it’s you—you’re my masterpiece.

You still don’t understand, do you? The lines were never blurred for me. They were deliberate strokes, each one like the inked lines of a pen dragged across parchment, shaping a story exactly as I envisioned it. I watched you fall into them, unaware of the fine threads pulling you closer to me. Even now, as you sit in your apartment, double-checking the locks on your doors and windows, I know your fear belongs to me. 

It fuels me. 

Not because I want to harm you—no, that’s not it. I want to possess you, to occupy every corner of your mind and every beat of your heart.

But I won’t come for you. Not yet. I’m patient, after all. The timing has to be perfect. When I do return, it won’t be as the monster you fear but as the man you once trusted. And that’s the beauty of it, isn’t it? The way trust can twist and contort, the way love can be reshaped into something unrecognizable.

For now, I’ll wait. I’ll let the fear settle into your bones, let it keep you awake at night. Because when the time comes, when I step back into your life, you won’t know whether to run from me or fall into my arms.

And that is where the real story lies— beauty born from chaos.

[joonslfttiddie]

Yes! I love this story so much. I'm glad Grandma came through... it was long overdue. I'm so excited to see what's next for Akira!

C H A P T E R — T H R E E

Summary: Tensions rise with the Batiste household as the well anticipated first dinner goes horribly wrong. What happens after, becomes the catalyst for Akira’s new life.

Warnings: Strong language, derogatory language,

WC: 10.4K

Previous | Next

“I’m glad you’re feeling better, Akira. It seems our sons didn’t run you off after all.”

The jokes seemed to flow across the long table as Akira apologized for being late. As expected, she was placed between Namjoon and Jin, the head alpha and beta of their pack. Akira noticed each gift bag she had brought was placed in front of the heads of Bangtan’s familial pack, as well as eight in front of her father and one in front Naomi.

Jackson’s mother gushed over the Jade comb and earrings, remarking how thoughtful Naomi was to study their culture. Akira could only hope for the same sentiment as each of the pack leaders opened their gifts from her. Akira wasn’t sure her mother picked out, she was just as nervous as she was earlier. Beneath the table, Namjoon’s hand gripped Akira’s, running his thumb soothingly against her palm. Jimin and Jin’s fathers both received engraved fountain pen sets, which they seemed to genuinely appreciate. Akira squeezed Namjoon’s hand as tight as she could, needing reassurance once it got to his mother. “Oh my Akira…this is the most beautiful bracelet I’ve ever seen.” Akira could practically see the tears in her eyes as each woman opened their bags, each pulling out a bracelet with different flower charms hanging from them, each one representing the birth month of each child they had. For Jungkook’s mother, a tiger lily and a honeysuckle. For Hobi’s mother, a buttercup and a spring crocus. For Yoongi’s mother, a larch and a peach; for Taehyun’s mother, a Carolina allspice, a briar rose, and a goldenrod. And lastly, for Namjoon’s mother, a clematis and an azalea. Akira’s mother did think to put in bracelets for Jimin and Jin’s mother’s as well; how she managed to know all this information without you was a mystery.

Looking across the room, Akira noticed her mother and sister give her a wink, thankful that they somehow got the importance of each bracelet. “Thank you Akira, I know that Jin’s mother will greatly appreciate the gift. She wished to be here, but the grand-pups are in town for a visit.” Jin’s father had a similar laugh to Jin’s, making Akira smile. Without much thought, Akira reached beneath the table to grab Jin’s hand with her free one. Jin smiled, the tips of his ears turning red.

“You did good, beautiful.” Namjoon leaned over to whisper in Akira’s ear. Akira closed her eyes just as Namjoon pecked the side of her head. Her heartbeat quickened at the mere touch of his lips, making Namjoon chuckle and squeeze her hand once again. It was bold to do such a thing in front of both families, but their parents didn’t seem to mind. In their eyes, Akira was perfect for their sons without knowing much about her. Naturally, the occasional question came up for both you and the pack: do you see yourself bearing a mating mark? Do you plan on staying or moving away? Will there be grand-pups?

Akira coughed before her wine could slide down her throat. Jungkook shook his head, embarrassed by his mother’s boldness while others snickered. “U-uhm…well we haven’t—we haven’t talked about that yet.” You stuttered, face flushed with heat. Akira coughed again, still feeling the tickle in the back of her throat as Jin handed her water to drink. She mouthed a quick ‘thank you’ before guzzling down half a glass of water. Halfway through the dinner, Naomi opened her gift from Jackson,a beautiful gold bangle engraved with a message and her name, with jade stones embedded into them. Akira smiled at her sister’s happy smile while the rest of her family raised their glasses in praise. “We would also like to give our gifts to Akira.” Taehyung smiled, nodding his head to her. One by one, each of the men pulled out their gifts from beneath the table. Family members from different tables strained their necks to see what she got from them. Akira felt put on the spot but knowing how they really wanted her to accept their gifts, Akira silently relented. Taehyung was the first to give his gift, a big purple bag in his hand as he walked around the table to hand it to her.

“Oh Taehyung, you shouldn’t have..” Akira couldn’t believe how big the bag was.

“I thought you might like it.” He smiled proudly, watching her pull back the tissue paper and pull out a large quilt. Big and purple with stars and hearts alternating each square and bordering the quilt. Akira held it to her, aware that she could smell the lavender and leather. She could smell the citrus of orange and the smoothness of vanilla and sandalwood and mouth watering pear. “To keep you warm until you’re with us.” Taehyung smartly replied, leaning forward to place a kiss on top of Akira’s head. She placed the quilt back into the bag then received the next gift, which was from Jungkook. The bag, also purple, was medium in size. Akira dug through the bag, pulling out a Polaroid camera. She looked up at Jungkook with a smirk; his full bunny smile making her giggle, “For all the memories we’ll make. As a new family.” Akira bit her lip, feeling tears start to warm behind her eyes. She reached out her hand for him, “Thank you, Jungkook.” Her soft voice made his wolf pur. Placing the camera back in the bag, Akira was ready for the next gift. Next, Yoongi and Hobi stood behind her, both excited for Akira to open her next gift, “We hope you like it. We picked it out together.” Handing over a long, purple rectangular box, Hobi turned to Yoongi, excited about her reaction. Akira opened the box and gasped. The diamond charm bracelet wasn’t too overwhelming with just the right amount of charms and diamonds studded throughout. “See this one in the middle?” Yoongi pointed out to the purple, vertically inverted trapezoids pointing to each other, “That’s our pack’s insignia. You’re a part of our pack and we want others to know it too.”

“And these charms represent us.” Hobi explains, “I’m the sun. Jin’s the moon. The guitar pick is Yoongi, the rose is Taehyung, the book is Namjoon, the wings are Jimin and the bunny is Jungkook for obvious reasons.” Jungkook sucked his teeth, scowling while Akira giggled, trying to hide the tears threatening to spill.

“I’ll never take it off, thank you Hobi.” Akira then turned to Yoongi, “Thank you, Yoongi.” Taking Akira by surprise, they both kissed her on the cheeks. Akira pouted cutely, holding her wrist out as Jin attached the bracelet. “Everything was beautiful, I don’t know if I could stand any more presents.”

“But you haven’t gotten to me yet.” Jimin pouted.

“Or me,” Jin mused,

“Or me, beautiful.” Namjoon smiled, his dimples deep and round. Akira covered her face, suddenly feeling shy. She felt a hand on her waist, squeezing her side.

“C’mon Akira, I wanna see what the others got!” Naomi yelled from the end of the table, clearly excited. Jimin smirked, handing her a large purple box, Akira could sense a theme here. She opened the box, revealing the softest oversized sweater known to man. It felt plush between her fingertips, the soft pink fabric delicate, almost too perfect for her to have, “Just something delicate for a delicate woman.” Akira smiled, holding the sweater to her chest, already making up her mind that she’ll sleep in it later tonight.

“I love it, Jimin, thank you.” Akira folded the sweater and placed it in the bag with the camera. Next was Jin, offering a gift that both he and Namjoon came up with. He handed Akira a purple velvet box, making her look at both him and Namjoon, “What did you two do? Is it gonna make me cry?” Jin laughed,

“Open the box Akira.” Akira bit her lip as she opened the box. A jagged shaped piece hung from a thin gold chain. On the piece was her name engraved in cursive along with her birthstone, a pretty garnet gem. It took Akira a moment to realize, “It’s a puzzle piece.” She spoke softly, a cute confused frown on her face. Looking up, she looked at all seven men slowly revealing their own necklaces, “W-What’s—you didn’t.”

“We each have a piece. You’re the completed part of our puzzle so we wanted to show you that.” Namjoon rested his arm on the back of Akira’s chair, his hand finding the back of her neck, massaging lightly. Tears pricked at the edge. Her breath picked up, a soft gasp leaving her lips. “Despite how you may feel? You belong with us, Akira. And we’re gonna show you in every way possible that you are one of us.” Her lips trembled just barely before a tear fell. Akira quickly looked away, staring down at the necklace in her hands, licking her lips as she was at a loss for words. Her eyes closed softly as she felt Namjoon’s lips once again at the side of her head, shushing her softly as more tears silently fell.

Jin took the necklace from her hands, taking it out of the box and unclasping it. Carefully, he brought it around her neck, securing it; the gold piece dangling between her breasts. Akira couldn’t even speak. She grabbed hold of the necklace then without a second thought, laid her head on Jin’s shoulder. He grabbed a napkin and handed it to her, watching as she wiped her tears away.

Jimin’s father raised a glass and others around the table joined—well, certain members of Akira’s family didn’t. Justine bitterly sipped her champagne, stewing at the fact that her husband no longer treated her that way. Malik seemed annoyed, ready to take his wife and kids home as he felt this dinner was beneath him. And Joseph just plain wanted to be a hater. But one look from his wife told him he had better stay quiet or there would be drama later. The night continued with more food and drinks and even dancing. Akira slowly danced with Taehyung and then Jimin. And though she was starting to get tired, she danced with Namjoon too. “Are you okay, Akira? I sensed there was more than just nerves tonight.”

“I’m just…I never felt this before.” Akira whispered, her head pressed to his chest as they danced. Ever the gentleman, Namjoon kept his hands at a respectable position, one on the small of her back, the other holding her hand.

Namjoon frowned, “Felt what?”

Akira moved to look up at him. A starry gaze set in her eyes, almost like a far away look, “Safe.” Namjoon’s grip tightened on the small of her back. ‘Omega feels safe with us. She’s safe for now.’ Each member of the pack stopped what they were doing and looked at the both of them still dancing. Akira gave Namjoon a soft smile, one to appease his happy wolf.

“God I wanna kiss you right now.” Namjoon rumbled, making Akira gasp. She felt light, almost dizzy. Stumbling a little, Akira almost fell, but Namjoon caught her waist, pressing her against his. She wanted him to kiss her as well but knew that it wasn’t the time or place for that. Looking away, Akira stopped dancing and pulled away from Namjoon. She held his hand, “Take a walk with me? They have a garden outside.” Namjoon smiles, moving to wrap her arm around his, the fabric of his all black suit kissing her fingertips. On her way out, her grandmother smiled, sending her a wink. What the cute future couple didn’t notice was Malik and Joseph watching them, watching as the two walked silently out of the hall.

Jungkook frowned, sensing negative energy coming from them. This triggered the rest of the pack, each flocking to him to see what was bothering him, ‘Kookie what’s wrong?’

‘Do you guys get the feeling that her family’s energy is…off?’ Jungkook took a glance over at Jin who could be seen scowling, ‘Jin hyung what’s wrong?’

Jin sighed, taking a seat to finish his whisky, ‘I didn’t say anything at first but at the summit, I overheard her father threatening her.’

‘Excuse me?!’ Yoongi nearly spun on his heel, rage settling within his bones as his eyes glowed red. Hobi grabbed his arm, trying to calm him, ‘What exactly did he say to her?’

‘Basically he told her she either sleeps with us to secure her place in the pack or she’s in trouble. He wants the alliance between us for power. She refused and judging by how hard he grabbed her, I’m guessing that’s why she’s wearing sleeves tonight. He didn’t even want her as a part of the family.’

“Fucking bastard.” Jimin cursed aloud, seething at the thought of anyone, let alone his mate’s father, threatening her. “Does Joonie know?”

“Yes.” Jin replied, “We’ve been trying to speed up the process of getting her to us as quickly as possible but he,” and Jin made it clear that he was talking about Akira’s father, “wants assurances.”

“Fuck his assurances.” Yoongi spat, growing angrier.

“For the safety of our pack omega, I’m willing to meet whatever demand he wants. I want her out of that house.” Jin countered, finishing his drink. “I want her home with us in one piece Yoongi, not battered and bruised.”

“I’ll kill him.” Jimin stopped Jungkook, scuffing the back of his neck, making him whimper.

“Jin’s right. Not acting rationally in front of the families will cause more problems than they’re worth. The goal is to bring her home. They can’t break mate bonds but they sure as hell can delay it and we can’t have that.”

“Therein lies the problem,” Hobi sighed, “she’s human. To them she technically doesn’t have a bond with us. They can challenge us for her at any point. It’s best to act within reason.”

“I hate this.” Taehyung sat opposite Jin, fuming. “We do anything to jeopardize her coming home to us, Namjoon will never forgive us. I’m with Jin.” He grumbled, playing with the jacket of his suit. The group tried settling each other’s emotions, contemplating on how to deal with the situation. Meanwhile, outside in the garden, Namjoon and Akira walked peacefully in silence until they came across a pond. Namjoon sat in the area where people could sit, holding onto Akira’s hand as he pulled her between his legs. Akira loved that his silver colored hair shimmered beneath the moon. She loved the smile that he gave her, dimples fully on display. Namjoon was gone. Completely love drunk on her scent, on her voice, her laugh—everything. “Seeing you smile tonight was everything I wanted. I wanna see it more often.”

“Namjoon,” Akira spoke softly, finding it hard to find the words.

“Yes beautiful?” Akira shyly looked away, nearly pulling away from him but he pulled her closer. Akira fell onto his lap, barely making Namjoon flinch. She felt heavy all of a sudden. Akira knew she wasn’t a small girl by any means. She had thick thighs, a little chubby stomach, a full and slightly rounded face. None of that seemed to matter to Namjoon though. He was just happy spending time with her.

“Do you…” Akira sighed, finding herself playing with his matching necklace, “do you really believe I’m your mate? Like without a doubt, you know that for sure?”

“Yes, I truly believe that.” He answered honestly.

“But how?” Akira squinted, lost on how it was possible, “I’m not a wolf, I’m just a human, I’m nothing—.”

“Don’t.” Namjoon silenced her, an instant chill settled her body. Namjoon rarely ever used his alpha command, but he needed to, just this once. He was surprised it actually worked on her, “Akira, you are not nothing. I don’t know why my wolf responded to you like any other wolf would to its mate. I can’t explain to you this overwhelming feeling to make sure you’re cared for and safe and loved, but it’s there. It’s here,” Namjoon grabbed hold of her hand and placed it in his warm chest, “this feeling, this urge…it’s primal. It’s instinctual. I just knew the moment I met you, you were meant to be ours.”

“B-But how can I be a mate to multiple wolves? Is that even possible?” Akira could feel his heart rapidly beating within his chest.

“It’s rare, but it can happen. Werewolves can have multiple mates but with you, Akira, the rules have changed.” Akira stared into his soft brown eyes, paralyzed by what she knew would happen next. Namjoon’s eyes traveled across her face before settling on her plump lips. Closer and closer, the two leaned in until he was a breath away, “Can I kiss you, Akira?”

“Please.” Akira whimpered, slightly moaning as his lips touched hers. The dazed feeling she felt engulfed her, sending her melting into his body. Namjoon’s arms wrapped around her frame, deepening the kiss to elicit the most delicate, breathy moan he ever heard from her. Her scent skyrocketed; the warm, syrupy scent oozed like honey through his nose, making his wolf growl and rumble through his chest. Akira moaned again, thighs clenching together as the sound zapped her body with a feeling she never felt before. One of Namjoon’s hands traveled upward, cradling the back of her neck in his hand.

Kiss deepening even further, his tongue parted her lips. His tongue danced within her mouth, massaging hers and bringing forth a high pitched moan that even surprised Akira. She had never made these sounds before, not for anyone. He then pulled away just slightly, both of them panting for air as his lips softly pecked hers. His other hand held one of her soft, plushy thighs, squeezing gently. “I’ve been wanting to do that since I first saw you.”

Her giggle muffled as she buried her face in the side of his neck, making him laugh as well. Resting her head on his shoulder, Akira dreamed that nothing interrupted this moment. That everything would remain this safe and peaceful for her. Sadly, that would come to an end as this overwhelming feeling sunk within her chest. She sat up quickly, almost dizzying, “Something‘a wrong.” Her speech slurred, still reeling from the kiss as she stood up, legs wobbly. Namjoon frowned, concerned until he heard it. He heard the arguing going on inside the building and knew he needed to defuse it, and fast. “Let’s go.” He stood quickly, grabbing her hand as they walked quickly back to the building. Within minutes they could hear shouting from the banquet hall, making Akira take off her heels and sprint to the hall with Namjoon by her side.

So much commotion was taking place that they both didn’t know where to start. Jackson and Naomi and his family were trying to stop the argument between Akira and Bangtan’s family. Jungkook and Taehyung were nearly chest to chest with Malik and Braxton. Theo, Akira’s brother-in-law, was trying to stop her sister Justine from attacking Jimin's parents—the chaos was everywhere. Akira’s nieces and nephews huddled in a corner, terrified and immediately, she let go of Namjoon’s hand and ran to them. They engulfed her, scared and terrified. Her grandmother just sat at the table, covering her face in annoyance.

“ENOUGH!” The echo of Namjoon’s voice shocked the sound barrier, making chandeliers shake and glassware tumble. He looked over at a scared Akira who held the children to her in comfort, shushing the smallest ones to stop crying. He sighed, obviously angered that she had to see a side of him that he did not want her to see, “What the hell happened?!”

“Malik—!” Taehyung was interrupted by said person, which he despised,

“Y’all started the bullshit with me!” He shouted, “Comin’ up in my conversation, starting shit!”

“Tell him what you said, jackass!” Jungkook shouted, ready to lunge at him if not for Jin and Hobi holding him back, “Tell him what you said about Akira, tell him the truth!”

“Hey!” Jungkook snapped his head to Namjoon, ‘Don’t wolf out right now. We don’t have any spare clothes in case you turn.’. Jungkook huffed and puffed, trying desperately to control his rage. Jin pushed out his calming scent, trying to mask the stench of rotted and burned firewood.

Akira ushered the children over to their great-grandmother before walking over to the scene, “Whatever he said, it shouldn’t have warranted all of this, Jungkook. No matter what, words should not get you out of character like this, even if it’s from my own brother.”

“Akira,” Jungkook whined, obviously displeased, “please—.”

“You heard her,” Malik chuckled, “listen to your $5 whore.” Namjoon and Akira whipped their heads toward Malik. The next thing they saw was Malik’s head reeling back as Taehyung punched him in his jaw. Braxton then lunged and a fist fight between all four commenced. Namjoon ran over and broke it up, catching Taehyung and Jungkook by the neck to scruff them. Before Malik could land another punch, Namjoon turned quickly, grabbing his fist with the palm of his hand. “You’re drunk. Get yourself together, especially in front of your wife and kids.”

“You think just because you’re a leader of a pack you run everybody. Well you don’t run me! You and that bitch will never measure up to me!” Malik shouted, rage taking over his entire body.

“If you ever become a leader, you will run your pack to the ground.” Namjoon coldly replied.

“Now wait just a minute son,” Joseph soon stepped in, standing between him and his son, “That’s my son you’re talking about.”

“Oh but it’s ok to disrespect your daughter? Your precious princess, as I recall it?” Namjoon stated, staring him down, fed up with hiding his feelings in diplomacy, “I knew you were a liar from the moment I saw you. Whatever hatred you have for her, know that it will all be erased once she’s home with us.”

“If I allow it.” Joseph warned menacingly. Akira’s eyes watered, knowing that her father always made good on his threats. “After the display your pack showed today, I don’t know if I want my daughter to be aligned with you.”

Akira faltered, “Father, please—!”

“Silence, Akira!” Joseph shouted, making her jump. “What kind of fool do you take me for? You would rather associate yourself with these hoodlums than your own family?!”

Akira walked over and grabbed Namjoon’s hand. “Father, please. Whatever happened, it can be fixed but don’t do this, don’t take this away from me. I’ve been loyal to my family my entire life. I never ask for anything, please, don’t do this, please.”

Mariam walked over, placing a hand on her husband’s shoulder, “Malik started the fight. He should be punished for it later, but the girls, especially Akira, do not deserve for their nights to be ruined.” ‘Judging by the looks on Jackson’s family’s faces, if you mess this up, the alliance for Naomi will be ruined too. His and the Bangtan pack’s family are close knit, they will not tolerate this and we need the numbers, Joseph’, Mariam’s wolf spoke to him. Sighing, Joseph relented. He turned to Malik and although no one could hear what they were saying, there was definite tension.

After tensions somewhat died down, Akira looked around the hall. Every mess she saw brought tears to her eyes. Shaking her head, Akira packed up all her gifts and handed them to her mother, “Say goodnight, Akira.” Her mother nodded towards the seven men all huddled with their families as they helped the staff clean up. Sensing her distress, Jimin popped his head up, making the others do the same. Akira stood in the center of the ballroom on the dance floor, trembling. She knew she wasn’t going to just say goodnight to them. The moment Hobi walked up to her and wrapped his arms around her, Akira could barely contain her soft cries, “Shh, it’s okay Akira, it’s okay.”

“I’m sorry. I'm so sorry.” Akira’s muffled apologies could be heard as his arms tightened around her.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. None of this is your fault.” Hobi tried assuring her, but it didn’t make the sadness go away. Moving away from his arms, Akira wiped her face and moved her hair out of her face. It broke their hearts to see her this way. Yoongi walked up to her and held wet cheeks between his hands, “I don’t care how many rules we may break, we will find a way to bring you home to us.”

“As much as I want to believe that Yoongi, my father? He won’t allow it. I know him, tonight made up his mind for him, he will never let me near you again.” Akira gently pulled his hands away, “I’m so sorry…” she whispered, turning away from them. She quickly picked up her heels and rushed out of the ballroom, tears kissing her eyes again. An ache started forming in her chest. Akira knew what the end felt like. She knew that after what happened tonight, she’d most likely never see them again. It wasn’t even a full month but Akira felt safe with them. Now it was being ripped away.

— — —

“Father still won’t let you see them? I thought mama talked to him, it’s been three weeks!”

Naomi and Akira grew closer in the past few weeks since the disastrous dinner that took place. The guys would text her knowing that talking wasn’t an option. And though she tried to mask her sadness, Akira couldn’t hide the fact that it hurt that her brother said awful things, words that even Naomi wouldn’t repeat, “This has gotta stop, it was Malik’s fault!”

“Doesn’t matter.” Akira mumbled. She stared absentmindedly at the towels she was folding, working on her third load of laundry. The house took less time to clean thanks to Naomi’s help. Their entire family would be over for dinner later and Akira had already started marinating the steaks and prepped all the side dishes. At this point, she was just going through the motions of her daily routine.

“It does matter. You’re being punished for something he did, and his punishment was barely a punishment to begin with!” It was true, Malik barely had a punishment. He had a “stern talking to” about almost costing Naomi her new pack. Joseph knew that without Akira’s involvement with the Bangtan, Jackson would instantly pull out, as they are his brother pack. It took a lot of convincing from Naomi to assure Jackson that everything was running smoothly, but she knew that it wasn’t, “He’s just being stubborn.”

Akira sighed, folding the last of the laundry, “I’m…not gonna fight his decision. I can’t have a pack anyways, it was stupid to believe that I belonged with them, it was even stupider to believe that I was their mate.” Naomi shook her, disagreeing, but Akira continued, “I should’ve known better. It’s not like I’ve done anything to deserve attention from anyone. Whatever decision our father makes, I have to abide by it. I just want peace in my life, Naomi, I don’t want to upset him.”

“Because then he’ll take it out on you,” Naomi realized, “he always takes it out on you.”

Akira nodded, hiding her face, “And when everyone leaves…it’ll just be me, him, and mama. Unless he sends me to another pack, and who knows how they’ll be.” Akira shook her head, dismissing the thought, “I just want some peace in my life. Upsetting father…I don’t want trouble.” Akira picked up the basket of freshly folded laundry and made her way to all the linen closets, with Naomi right on her tail,

“What if I talked to him? I’ll tell him that Jackson wants to back out of the deal if you’re not with Bangtan?” Naomi urged. Akira stopped what she was doing, midway placing towels away, with a perplexed look on her face,

“You would do that for me?” Akira was dumbfounded. She’d never seen Naomi move mountains to help anyone, let alone her. And the sudden push for her to join Bangtan’s pack was questioning everything Naomi said and did for Akira. “Why?”

“Because you need to see this through. If you stay here, it’ll get worse, no matter how much you try to obey him.” Naomi crossed her arm, “Our father is a tyrant. He shouldn’t be forcing whatever rules he has on you just because you’re human.”

— — —

“I heard that the rebels have started growing in numbers and that they’ve even recruited nomads. Our numbers need to be up if we want to end them.”

Akira walked around the dining room table as her Uncle Michael spoke, pouring more wine into glasses for those who asked. She hadn’t eaten dinner herself yet, tending between adults and children from the dining room to the kitchen. She hadn’t even spoken a word aside from the quiet ‘hello’ wielded to her relatives as she greeted them at the front door. To be seen and not heard was her mission tonight and she was exceeding.

“Akira, more wine.” Malik summoned her, waving his hand over to her. Both Mariam and his wife, Felicia, looked disgusted at his behavior. Before their grandmother could get her words in, Akira quickly walked over to Malik and poured his wine. Tiny feet slapped against the marble floors as Malik’s daughter, Sasha, called out to her, “Auntie Kira! I need help, I can’t cut my steak! Pleeeeeease?!”

Malik watched exchange between the two as Akira smiled wide, “I’ll be right there sweetie, I’ll cut them smaller for you, ok?” Sasha nodded then ran back to the kitchen.

“I can go do it Akira, you must be tired.” Felicia offered.

“It’s alright Fe, I don’t mind.” Akira smiled softly, also refilling her glass, “I like doing things for my nieces and nephews.” She shrugged before heading off to the kitchen silently. Akira helped Sasha and the rest of the smaller children before checking in on the adults, “Would anyone like any dessert?”

“What is it tonight?” Her father asked absentmindedly, not sparing her a second glance.

“Caramel cake, your favorite.” Akira replied softly, looking at the floor. Joseph waved her off dismissively, probably telling her to bring out the cake. Akira sighed quietly, going to grab the cake out of the fridge.

“This has got to stop!” Genevieve slammed her hand on the table, silencing everyone. All eyes moved to the eldest member at the table; her steely eyes set on her oldest son. “She is not a house negro and you will stop treating her like one. ALL OF YOU!”

Malik laughed, “Grandmother, she’s not a slave. If she wanted to stop, she could, don’t pacify her—.”

Genevieve snapped her hand at him, making the air grow cold as he was silenced. Malik choked on nothing, grabbing his neck as she squeezed the air out of him from the other side of the table. No one knew how the matriarch of the Batiste pack acquired these special powers, but they knew not to cross her. “Malik Gerrod, you’ve been getting beside yourself. Say one more word, and I got you.” She released him, making him cough and gasp for air.

As if timing couldn’t be more useful, Akira walked into the dining room just in time with the cake, “Sorry it took long, the kids needed help.” She sat the cake near Joseph then stood straight to grab dessert plates and a cake knife. Yet when she came back, she noticed the chill in the room, “Oh no…did something happen?”

“I am so sick and tired of seeing you do all the work in this house like you are a live-in maid, put that shit down!” Her grandmother shouted, making Akira jump. She never saw her grandmother so livid, it was frightening, even for an omega.

“Y-Yes ma’am.” Akira quickly put the plates and cake cutter down, scared to say or do anything. Eyed wide and with fear, Akira looked about the room with shock. And watched her grandmother then turn on her mother, which again, rarely happened,

“And you!” She pointed to Mariam.

Mariam stuttered, shocked, “M-Me?!”

“I waited for years for you to step in and do something but you have taken far too long! That is your daughter! You are supposed to protect all of your children, now you grow a goddamn backbone and you do it NOW!” Genevieve shouted.

“Mother, that is enough!” Joseph shouted. Genevieve stood, flicking her hand towards him like a fly on the wall. His chair skidded back against the wall, oxygen ripping from his lungs as she squeezed his airway like she did Malik. His eyes widened as he fought to breathe, struggling. Justine and Naomi screamed at the sight while Mariam ran over to him, trying to help,

“You forget I am your parent, not the other way around. You do well to remember that next time you piss me off, boy.” Genevieve squinted, squeezing tighter, “ I have been very patient with you, with all of you!” Genevieve let him breathe; Joseph gasped and gagged, trying hard to retrieve oxygen to his lungs, “The level of embarrassment from this family has reached outside this compound! If there’s one thing I know your father wouldn’t have tolerated, is to be embarrassed and I refuse to let his memory be tainted by you and your spoiled ass brats! This child,” Genevieve pointed to Akira, “has done everything to try and please you! She is the one upholding my legacy, not these entitled runts! I have never seen a pack of wolves turn on their own like you all have. And to sit there and be silent in the treatment of this poor child makes you just as guilty.”

“Akira,” Akira stood at attention, turning to Genevieve with a scared look in her eyes, “you will be staying with me until your courting season is over. Go to your room and pack, right now!” Akira ran out of the dining room, not wanting to upset her grandmother. A glimmer of hope bloomed in her chest as she burst open the door of her bedroom. Though most of her things were packed away, she knew she couldn’t carry those things to her grandmother’s just yet. Still, she did manage to pack up some clothes and her gifts that the boys got her and started leaving them by her door.

“Akira!” Akira jumped as she swiftly turned around, seeing Naomi stand in her doorway, “Grandmother is making Uncle Michael and Aunt Regina load your things in his truck. We better hurry before father regains his ego back, what things are you taking?” Naomi urged, searching frantically in Akira’s room for anything to grab.

“Those three boxes and those two suitcases, that’s it.” Three small boxes and two suitcases worth of stuff was all that Akira owned in this world. She didn’t own nor wanted much. The cell phone she owned, her grandmother bought her. Her toiletries were all bought by her mother. She never thought she would leave this prison she called home, and it was bittersweet to leave it, being that it was all she had ever known. Naomi stacked the boxes. Her strength towers over Akira’s. Just then, another knock stopped them in their tracks. Miriam stood at the door, teary eyed as she stepped closer to Akira, “Naomi give us a minute.”

Naomi left, bringing the boxes outside. Akira slowly backed into a wall, unsure of what her mother would do. Miriam looked hurt. She saw herself in Akira; so much of her fear and pain was draped like a cloak over her youngest child that she couldn’t see what it had truly blinded her from. The man she married was not the man he actually portrayed himself to be, not to her. It was all a lie and it took his own mother to scream it to the heavens for her to see it. “You’re terrified of us. How could I not see it?” Akira didn’t deny her statement, staying silent. “How could I not protect you from the very thing no one protected me from?” Akira’s head cocked, a confused frown on her face as she watched her mother’s eyes tear up. “I’m sorry Akira. Your grandmother’s right, I should’ve protected you more.”

Akira didn’t know her mother’s story. She didn’t know her experiences, that much was true, but there would be time for that. For now, Akira unclenched her body slowly, shoulders dropping with hesitation. Miriam reached out to touch Akira’s hair, making Akira nervously flinch. Miriam sighed, placing her hand back down, “I think staying at your grandmother’s will be good for you. Safer until you’re settled in with your pack.” Miriam turned and left, a sullen expression on her face. Akira felt guilty. Her mother never treated her horribly, but she never outright protected her either. Shaking the confusing thoughts from her head, Akira grabbed the rest of her things and headed outside. Joseph was still shouting. Malik and Felicia were arguing. Miriam was probably somewhere in her bedroom, crying. None of that affected Akira. The minute she stepped outside, Akira felt a shift in her energy. Everything was starting to change.

— — —

“I’m happy we could do this, Yoongi. I’ve never been to a sip and paint, nor painted before, this is really fun!”

Out of all Akira’s mates, only four seemed to be into art. Only one, Yoongi, was smart enough to use it as a way to further court his human omega. He found a class happening at an art studio in downtown Smeraldo Valley on a Friday night, fitting for his first date with her. Yoongi knew she’d have fun; seeing her eyes light up as they approached the studio and watching as people came in and out with their art pieces, all happy and smiley. “I’m glad, and you seem to be doing well for someone who’s never painted before.”

Akira looked at her unfinished painting, “All I did was blend in some brush strokes.” She giggled. While courting ceremony duties were being taken care of—Akira’s being a great deal to take care of by her grandmother—the second phase commenced: the dating phase. Tensions were high in the Batiste compound, but that didn’t deter dating activities for the two single Batiste women. While Naomi’s courting experience was celebrated, Akira’s wasn’t mentioned at all. The men opted to deal with the matriarch of the family; being buzzed in at the gate and given directions to the small cottage-like home in the center of all. Like seven little gentlemen, each greeted Akira’s grandmother with flowers and candies, all eager to meet the woman that raised her. Three weeks of continuous courting and flirting from the pack had made Akira dizzy in the best way possible. She was happy that she was getting to spend time with them individually this time. “Your painting looks amazing.”

“Aish, not finished yet.” Yoongi smiled, gums on display as he started at his black and blue background. He glanced over at Akira, watching her delicate features. The way her brows furrowed in concentration over her painting. How cute paint smudges seemed to appear on her dark brown cheeks and old overalls and fingertips. He especially loved how her long boho knotless box braids sat on her head in a big top bun, courtesy of her grandmother finding a hairdresser for her. Very hard to do when you practically live in wolf country. Yoongi loved watching her ease into it. By the hour mark, they both completed their works of arts, and Yoongi was steadily cleaning pain from Akira’s face, “I still don’t know how you managed to get paint all over you.” He laughed, wiping down her face, her arms, her fingers. Her faint giggle made his wolf howl with excitement,

“To be honest, I don’t know either, I think I zoned out.” Akira took a glance at both their paintings, noticing some similarities as well as some differences. They both used black as their starting point, gradually fading upwards into a gradient of their choosing. His was night and hers was day. A lone silhouette figure, man and woman, looking opposite sides of each other, as if searching for something, or someone. Spray of white dots littered his sky to symbolize stars while pinkish orange rays dusted hers to symbolize a setting sun, “Wow, they actually came out beautiful, I didn’t think I had any talent.”

“Believe me, beautiful, you do.” Yoongi’s deep voice affected Akira in ways only Yoongi seemed to sense. He smirked, wiping the last of the paint on her hands before closing his around hers. Once their paintings dried, Yoongi grabbed them both and brought it to his car, making sure to lay them down gently. Leaving the sip and paint class, Yoongi walked Akira to his car. He opened her door for her and allowed her to hop in. His next plan was to take her to dinner; even if it wasn’t the fanciest place in the world, which Akira didn’t seem to mind, “Oooo, I’ve heard about this place. I always wanted to try their hand cut knife noodles but I never got to try it!” Akira rocked in her seat excitedly as they pulled up to Purple Lotus, a Korean restaurant that was casual and friendly. “I’ll be sure to let Jin hyung know that. He’s part owner.” Akira’s eyes widened as Yoongi pulled into a reserved parking spot.

“Yoongi you’re not serious right now.” Akira gawked. Yoongi laughed even harder, turning the engine off before opening his door, “I am serious, Jin hyung has ties to a few restaurants.” 50 to be exact. Even Yoongi doesn’t fully understand how his hyung manages them all, but he does. The men weren’t just that most notorious pack simply for the most alphas, they were the second richest in the state, possibly the country. Their ties to their community, both foreign and domestic, were enough to grant them any and everything they could possibly ever want or need.

Yoongi got out of the car and ran around to open Akira’s door. He helped her out, closed the door behind her and locked it before taking her hand again and ushering them inside the restaurant, bypassing the hostess and several customers in line to beeline to a private seating area near the back, closer to the kitchen. It was closed off; the large oak doors obviously signaling its privacy for larger parties. Yoongi opened the door, allowing Akira to walk in first. The rich purples and greens mixed in with the natural blonde wooden tables had Akira mesmerized. Lanterns and faux lotus flowers hung from the ceiling in alternating lengths, dusted with sprinkles of fairy lights just as it was in the public dining area, except the lighters were dimmer in the room. Akira was in love, “It’s beautiful, Yoongi.”

“Glad you like it, beautiful.” He smirked, ushering her to a large rounded booth. Akira slid in, her chest gently hitting the top of the table before she settled. Yoongi sat in close, throwing his arm on the back of the seat before reaching over near the middle to press a red button. The door opened, making Akira jump as a waiter came in, asking for their drink order. “I’ll have whiskey and club soda. Akira?” The men both turned to you.

“Oh, um…Coke for me? Please?” Akira asked sheepishly.

“The usual?” The waiter then turned to Yoongi, asking if he’d have his usual order.

“Yeah, and can you bring out some pork dumplings and an order of the knife cut noodles too?” The man nodded then left, leaving just the two of them alone again. Yoongi watched as Akira stared down at her necklace, fiddling with it, making her diamond charm bracelet clink and clank, “Something on your mind, beautiful?”

“It’s nothing I just…” Akira sighed, a little flustered, “this is the first time I’ve been on an actual date…” Akira shrugged with a nervous pout that made Yoongi melt into the booth, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Looks like you're doing everything right to me.” He laughed, making Akira cover her face in faux embarrassment. Yoongi grabbed her hands, bringing them down and away from her face, making him fall closer to her. Her lashes fluttered softly against her high cheekbones. Intimidating. That’s the word Akira would use to describe her pack mates. And being near Min Yoongi right now seemed to be the most intimidating part of her day, “All you have to do is talk. Get to know me, I get to know you. Simple.”

“It’s not that…simple.” Akira gulped down her words, her voice losing octave as her stare dropped lower to his lips. Yoongi smirked once again, licking his lips slowly as he watched her breath shutter and her scent bloom heavily. Akira looked away, feeling overwhelmed suddenly, “Always trying to find something to say isn’t as easy as people seem to think.”

“Well I don’t know,” Yoongi shrugged before reaching across Akira to turn her head back to him, “you seem to be doing just fine.” His thumb rubbed her chin lightly. Akira’s breath hitched. Just then the door opened and their waiter walked in with a cart of food. Seared pork belly, kimchi, pickled radish kimchi, fried rice, lettuce, sticky rice, ttekbokki, wagyu beef and beef ramyun and knife cut noodles and dumplings. “I take it this is the packs usual order?” Akira giggled, watching everything be set out on display.

“Minus a few things, yeah.” Yoongi laughed.

“Ok so what do I try first? Some of these I’ve never tried before.” Yoongi watched Akira bounce excitedly in her seat. It pleased him that she was open to trying new things, especially within his culture. Yoongi picked up a lettuce leaf and started building the perfect bite; adding kimchi, pork belly, and pickled radish, “Try this.” He then held the food for her, which Akira moved to grab but he pulled back, making her frown, “Open.” He commanded. Her back straightened as her eyes widened in shock of her response. Slightly ajar, Akira opened her mouth. Normally, this type of thing wouldn’t do it for Yoongi, but it pleased him to feed her. To watch her plump lips brush against his fingertips, nearly tickling them with her tongue.

‘Omega is pleased.’ His wolf crooned at the thought. Sauce from the pork belly dripped onto her bottom lip and before she had a chance to swipe it away, Yoongi beat her to it. The immediate shock of having the tip of his tongue swipe her bottom lip made Akira tense. But soon, like with Namjoon, her body slowly relaxed as Yoongi's lips pressed against hers smoothly, making her eyelids flutter close. When Yoongi pulled away, Akira followed, his smooth laugh rich and deep between her ears. “Eat up beautiful, I told your grandmother I’d get you home by curfew.”

Akira pouted those plush lips of hers, “That’s one rule I just don’t understand. I’m 26, I shouldn’t need a curfew.”

Yoongi took a sip of his drink then placed some food on Akira’s plate, “In lycan tradition, unmated omegas have curfews during courting season. It’s to prevent unmated alphas from taking advantage. You might still be a human, but you’re being courted as if you’re an omega. The rules are for your safety until you’re fully apart of our pack.”

“But, if I’m your mate, don’t I already belong to you?” Yoongi placed down his chopsticks and looked at Akira with all seriousness, making Akira frown. Did she say something wrong?

“Whoa, Akira, you don’t belong to us, we don’t own you. You belong with us, there’s a difference. We want you as our partner, not as our property. We want what all wolves want: to have someone to come home to. To have someone other than each other to spend time and talk with.”

Yoongi grabbed Akira’s chin and made her look at him, “Beautiful, look at me.” Akira’s eyes swept upwards. Yoongi could faintly see the thin veil of tears in her eyes, “You’re not property. Nobody owns you.” Akira’s lips trembled. Yoongi kissed the top of her head then pulled her close in a hug. During dinner, they talked, got to know each other. She learned that each of them had ventures of their own. Jin owned restaurants all over the state and some back in South Korea. Jimin and Taehyung owned fashion houses, designing collections and pieces for commercial and celebrity use. Namjoon and Yoongi both worked in music, owning their own production company with Jungkook as their lead producer, and Hobi as a business consultant for everyone. Akira felt a little more intimidated than before, “Me? Oh..uh…I-I never got to finish school so…I just took care of my family.” Akira shrugged, twirling her fork around.

Yoongi frowned, “You didn’t finish?”

Akira grew timid, “Long story short, my dad pulled me out of school. I never even finished junior year. I wasn’t even allowed to go to my brother and sister’s graduation, I was at home making the celebration dinner. My father…” Akira sighed, pushing her somewhat empty plate away, “When Joseph puts his foot down, you don’t ever question it. Defying him felt like it would be an act against God, he made sure I knew that, too…” Yoongi felt the shift of her energy. Something dark and painful loomed in the air, making his wolf cry out in pain, ‘Omega is hurt! Someone’s hurt our omega, he’s hurt her! Fix it! Fix it now!’

“You know if you wanted to finish your education, we would support that. There’s no reason you shouldn’t finish.” Yoongi urged.

Akira smiled sweetly, “Thank you Yoongi, but I think it’s a little for that part of my life. Besides, I wouldn’t even know what my next steps would be.” Akira shrugged again, her sour disposition slowly fading as she changed the subject, an obvious coping mechanism of deflection that Yoongi quickly picked up on, “Anyway, enough about me, I wanna know what made you join your pack?”

Yoongi hesitated but humored Akira’s need to move the conversation along. They talked for another hour before deciding to pack up and leave. Yoongi drove Akira home with thirty minutes to spare, still not wanting the night to end. He got out of the car and walked over to Akira’s side of the car, opening the door for her. Walking her to her grandmother’s front door, Akira turned, “I had a really great night with you, Yoongi. Thank you for making my first date fun.” Boldly, Akira leaned forward and pecked Yoongi on the lips. Her soft giggle to his surprised face, eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to control his blushing cheeks made Akira laugh some more, “Goodnight Yoongi.”

“Goodnight, beautiful.” His deep voice made Akira shiver. Yoongi waved goodnight as Akira closed the door. Through the curtains, Akira watched Yoongi get in his car and drive away. If this date was a success, there was no telling how the other six would be.

— — —

“Now that you’ve moved out, the attention is doted on me and they have nitpicked over everything about my ceremony, including whether or not to invite you.”

Akira sighed as she watched her sister Naomi pace back and forth in her grandmother’s kitchen. The steaming hot tea sat in front of them as Akira offered her a cup, “Please sit, Naomi.” Akira frowned, feeling guilty for placing all the focus back on her. Naomi plopped down in her chair, hunched over the kitchen table as she stirred her tea around,

“It’s not like I’ve complained to Jackson about it but it’s like…I have no free will to do anything! I didn’t get to pick out anything, our mothers have done all the work!” Naomi vented, pointing how it wasn’t just their mother that took over, but Jackson’s as well, “This ceremony was supposed to be about us, but it’s just a political stunt for everyone to see. It’s not fair, Jackson and I were supposed to have some say in all of this. Even he’s getting frustrated.”

“You really like him, don’t you?” Akira questioned, seeing how upset Naomi got for Jackson. It wasn’t everyday that her sister showed others emotion. Naomi was an indifferent person, her personality alone came off as dissociative at times, but with Jackson, it seems Naomi reached a level of empathy that even Akira found endearing. “And don’t lie about it, it’s beneath you.”

Naomi looked at her mug, a pout forming on her face, “Yeah…I guess I do…” she sighed as she sunk back into her chair, “Jackson is really great. He’s sweet, he’s attentive, he’s a good communicator. I swear he can read my mind, he’ll say or do something before I even have to ask.” Naomi prattled on, making Akira smile. “I just don’t wanna end up like—.”

“Joseph and mama.” Akira finished for her.

“I swear that man tricked her into being with him, he wasn’t always this horrible.” Naomi grumbled, making Akira shush her,

“You better not let grandmother hear you.” Akira looked around, making sure their grandmother was near, “That’s still her son.”

“Who she’s disappointed in and lacks all respect for.” Naomi continued, a deadpan expression on her face. Akira covered her face, suppressing a laugh, “He’s a tyrant. Mama said he wasn’t always like this, but I’m starting to think she had a blind spot for him.”

“She does.” Akira frowned. Though Miriam didn’t outright tell Akira she had a similar upbringing, it wasn’t a hard conclusion to come up with. When Akira last saw her mother, she looked like a fragile, scared little girl inside and Akira didn’t know how to react to that. Now, any news about Miriam, it’s strictly from Naomi, “How is she?”

“Mama’s thrown herself into the ceremony, she hardly thinks about anything else.” Naomi waved her off, “Tomorrow she and Jackson’s mother are going food tasting. It’s only been a month and already, I feel like it’s been too damn long—I need a break from our family.” Naomi grumbled, taking a gulp of her tea. As Akira was about to respond, her phone went off. Akira checked the caller ID, smiling as she excused herself to answer, “Hey!”

“Hi beautiful one,” the voice on the other end spoke, “was wondering when I’d hear that beautiful voice of yours again.”

“Tae..” Akira would blush if she could. Naomi watched with curiosity as her sister rocked side to side, twirling the strings of her sweatshirt. From what she could hear, it was one of her pack mates. Naomi watched as Akira smiled and giggled, a sight she rarely saw from her. If anything, over the years, Naomi saw endless sadness on her sister’s face. A constant fear and blank void behind her eyes. Once Akira finished her call, she walked back to the table, the smile still on her face.

“I take it that was one of your mates?” Naomi mocked playfully.

“Yes,” Akira’s face heated once again, “it was Taehyung. He wants to take me on a date tomorrow night.” She shook her head then stared down at her mug, “Juggling seven men…it’s not something I thought I’d ever be doing.”

“Akira out of curiosity, do you…know..about sex?” Naomi’s eyes squinted, truly wondering if her baby sister even heard of such a concept. Akira nearly choked on her tea, eyes burning with tears, “The hell—Yes, Naomi, I know about sex!” Akira’s brow furrowed, looking at her sister as if she grew three heads. “I mean…I know enough…” Akira pouted, her fluffy dark toffee colored cheeks puffed out like snack cakes.

“I was just asking!” Naomi laughed, “You never know these days.” Naomi mocked, making Akira cut her eyes at her. “You know eventually you’ll have to act on it. Being a mate is different than just being part of the pack.”

“I understand that.” And truly, Akira did understand it. In high school, part of health class, there was a special werewolf health elective that of course, she took. “I just…is it actually possible for me to do..to have—.”

“You mean take a knot?” Naomi questioned bluntly. Akira’s eyes widened with embarrassment,

“Naomi!”

“What?! It’s not a taboo question! Sex is sex, subspecies or not!” Naomi rolled her eyes, “You never had this talk, did you?” She watched as Akira shook her head. Naomi’s eyes widened, “Oh wow, you’re really going in blind.”

“Is there something else I should know?” Akira fretted, playing with her nails as she stared at Naomi expectantly. Naomi sighed, biting her bottom lip as she internally groaned, realizing she’d have to explain wolf biology.

“Well, yeah, I mean…you have to know heats and ruts and what that means for us,” ‘us’ being figuratively for werewolves, “it’s complicated. Subgender aside, men will go through ruts. Alphas, Betas, Omegas—doesn’t matter, men will go through ruts, women will go through heats—unless you’re undergoing transgender treatment then of course, certain hormone treatments will change that.”

“Well how is it different? Ruts and heats, I mean?” Akira’s curiosity had her fully tuned in.

“You know how you get period pains every month?” Akira nodded in response to Naomi’s question, “Heats are similar, only the pain is more intense, ten times worse. It’s like having a literal serrated knife, heated up by fire, dragging back and forth over your womb.” Akira’s eyes doubled in size; Naomi could smell the fear radiating off of her, “After a couple of heats, the pain dulls. It’s not as graphic but it’s still very painful. If you’re a late bloomer, like I was, it’s even worse. The only good thing about it is it’s not every month. Sometimes it comes out of nowhere, sometimes it’s months or even years later. Sometimes it can be triggered by the aggression of a male mate.”

“How does that happen?” Akira was nervous to know the answer.

“Well any act of aggression could do it. A display of asserting aggressive dominance, their own early stages pheromones during ruts, or just plain old sex can trigger it sometimes. It’s the same for ruts; intense mate pheromones can trigger it. Heats can trigger ruts also. I will say this, ruts are a little more frequent sometimes, and that’s probably the only time men will feel what women go through.” Naomi chuckled darkly, thinking back to when her brothers complained of cramping.

“And so…my job, a-as their mate…I would have to help them..,” Akira’s voice dropped lower and lower as realization hit that sex was pretty much necessary. It wasn’t that she was scared, it was more so she didn’t want her first time to be risky.

“I’m gonna be honest with you Akira, I don’t think you’ll have that problem.” Akira stared in confusion while Naomi drank more of her tea.

“What do you mean?” Akira wondered.

“Well…think about it Akira,” Naomi chuckled once again, “you don’t remember anything from that health class?” Akira once again shook her head ‘no’, “ruts and heats hit when puberty does. From 16-21, it’s within that time frame first ruts and heats usually start. Your mates are around our age now, you don’t think they dealt with it themselves, do you?” Naomi questioned rhetorically. Akira looked away, staring at her mug. Naomi sighed, sensing a bit of shame and hurt from her sister, “Ruts and heats are overwhelming. It overwhelms the nervous system; you need some type of relief. Some wolves use toys, others…” Naomi trailed off,

“Find other wolves to fuck.” Akira concluded. “And you think, because I’m a virgin, if they end up going into a rut, they’ll find someone to help them out…”

“I didn’t want to say it but honestly, it’s not the worst idea. I mean the sex alone is overwhelming at times, and ruts and heats could last anywhere from up to a week or three. That’s a lot for a human body to handle and from what I heard with human pack members, sometimes having another wolf to match their stamina is better. Safer.”

“…How do you even know all of this? Have you—. Naomi interrupted immediately,

“Of course not, you know our father would’ve killed me.” Naomi scolded, “I used heat suppressants and toys on and off for years. Other stuff I’ve heard from my friends.” Naomi shrugged. “I just want you to be real and honest with yourself. Your mates have more than likely had help getting the edge off and probably continue getting help.” Akira didn’t know how to respond, and didn’t want to after the thought was put into her head. Naomi, sensing the sour mood and scent coming off her sister, changed the subject, “So! You know what you’re doing on your date tomorrow?”

“Hm? Oh uh,” Akira shook her head, trying to get her thoughts together, “n-no, Taehyung didn’t say. To be honest, it could be anything. Yoongi took me to a sip and paint so it probably won’t be that.” Akira was so distracted by everything she just learned, she wasn’t sure if she could carry on the rest of the conversation. She needed to talk to Namjoon, “But he said to dress nice and to be ready by 6.”

“Sounds like a romantic evening being planned, little sister. Seems like they’re showing their way of taking care and providing. I’m guessing they’re going by hierarchy?” Naomi questioned.

“I don’t think so. Otherwise Namjoon would’ve asked me out first.” Akira pouted.

“But he did kiss you first.” Naomi smirked.

Akira’s eyes doubled, “How did you—?!”

“I could see the smudged lip gloss from a mile away. Besides, it wasn’t like we couldn’t hear you two over the music, he said he wanted to kiss you, you two went outside to “talk”,” Naomi mocked, air quotes planted, “it wasn’t hard to figure out.” She laughed, “They might share you, but that doesn’t mean they haven’t stopped being competitive. Clearly the dates show that.”

“Oh god, please stop.” Akira covered her face, making Naomi laugh,

“What are you so embarrassed for, it’s sweet!.” Naomi watched as Akira shook her head, trundles of curls from her boho knotless falling in her face as a smile formed, “They make you happy. Happiness looks good on you, little sister.”

Akira didn’t reply, but she didn’t need to. Akira did feel a little happy, and it was because of the men in her life. Was everything moving faster than she could keep up with? Sure. But the truth was, Akira didn’t care. She was happy with how her life was quickly coming together in the best way possible.

[joonslfttiddie]

Be Mine

Eight

💜Fic Pairing: BTS Member x OFC

💜AU/Genre: Dark Romance | Demon Member

💜Warnings: (for entire work; not chapter specific) Mental Illnesses/Troubled Childhood/Alcoholic Parent/Mentions of Domestic Violence/Physical Violence/Stalking/Gore/Mentions of Blood/Sexist Remarks/Derogatory Remarks/Detailed Murder/Murder of an Animal/Language/Adult Themes/Sexual Themes/Mind Control/Telepathy (invading thoughts w/o permission)/Fingering/Masturbation/Manipulation/Alluding at Drug Usage

💜Rating: MA

💜Word Count: 3,980

Kamryn Graham

Without asking any questions, afraid of the truth while facing the whispers of her intuition, Kamryn drove to their complex, not even bothering to turn any music on. She was too thrown off and too caught up in her thoughts. How was she going to express that she thought he may have been communicating with her in her thoughts? That would be insane to ever say aloud. Should she tell him about that weird feeling that came over her at his door? She couldn’t even tell him that she heard his voice in her mind so ain’t no way she would tell him about the other voice she’d heard. Kamryn shuddered at the thought and began to talk herself out of saying any of that. And what was it that he needed to say? Was there a woman at his place last night or something? Is that why he acted like that? Shit, does he have a girlfriend? Was he angry that she showed up to his place without an invite?

“Oh my God, how the fuck did I just assume that fine-ass man was single? What the fuck am I going to say to him? ‘So sorry, but I just wanted to see if you were speaking to me in my head. Also, you wouldn’t happen to be a murderer, would you? Ha ha’,” Kamryn said aloud, mocking herself in a tone much higher than her natural voice. So frustrated with herself, she banged her head against the headrest and gripped the steering wheel. “Bro, what the fuck is wrong with me?”

After a few moments, she arrived, pulled into her designated parking spot, and opted not to go into her building to go straight to his place instead. At the main entrance of his building, she rang the bell to announce herself, giving him the opportunity to buzz her in this time. She did have some decorum, though her actions last night may have conveyed otherwise.

Upstairs, after three short knocks, Jimin opened the door to welcome her in. 

“Hey.” He hesitated as if entranced momentarily by her beauty. 

“Hey,” she said as she took him in. He looked relaxed, dressed as if he’d been lounging around. She admired the way the simple white t-shirt with the word ‘Pucci’ printed across the chest in rainbow font accentuated his pecs. Kamryn allowed her eyes to roam the rest of him, licking her lips at the way the muscles of his firm thighs bulged through his black jeans each time he shifted. He was smiling when her eyes finally returned to meet his, and she blushed as if she’d been caught.

When he realized all the things in her hands, he offered his help. “Oh, my bad. Let me take some of that,” he said, then reached to grab her laptop bag, camera bag, and purse.

“Thanks.” Kamryn stood now with only her phone in hand before slipping it into her back pocket.

“Come in. Have a seat.”

Kamryn walked deeper into his space. The smell of sandalwood and something sweet yet spicy on the back end tickled her nose. Maybe cinnamon? The place was spotless and beautifully decorated. The basic features of the place mirrored her own, just flipped. She marveled at the expansive bookshelves and beautiful art pieces that adorned his walls. It was easy to appreciate his style, even down to the way the dark walls complemented the lighter hardwood floors.

“Your place is lovely.”

“Thank you.” He went over to join her, sitting in the armchair across from the sleek cognac colored leather couch she occupied. “How was your day? Did you have a lot of sessions?”

“My day was good for the most part. Only had two sessions, then I had to finish up some editing.”

“For the most part? What happened?” Like putty in his hands, he was able to clear her mind, relax her, and get her to open up about the conversation with her parents. “Wow. I don’t see why that wouldn’t be a good part of your day as well. While I bet that was difficult to navigate, you stood up for yourself. I don’t know how much weight my opinion holds, but I’m proud of you. It’s hard breaking habits, especially when you’ve been doing it for decades. You didn’t concede to either of your parents to simply keep the peace. That’s huge!”

“I know right? Like, who is this woman?” Kamryn bashfully covered her face as she allowed this new feeling to pour over her. His encouraging words, his sincere concern made her feel proud of herself. He breathed life into her, the CPR that slowly resuscitated her feelings of self-worth. “It was crazy, Jimin. I literally told my dad that I understand that this growth, this improved Kam, is going to be new. For them, but me as well,” she said then shrieked. “I still can’t believe I was able to say that to them.”

“I love how excited you are. You’re such a boss to realize it may be challenging, but you’re still deciding to push further anyway.” He offered her a soft smile and a silent clap. “Good girl.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Kamryn’s mouth became instantly dry, and she could feel her face flush, heating from his alluring eyes and his praise. Good girl. She grinned but had to look away as his focus on her was so intense. His eyes seemed to dance when taking in even her most minute movements. That, along with his willingness to praise her so easily, his positivity and optimism–this was something she was not used to but believed she could acclimate easily. 

A comfortable silence sat between them before he continued speaking. “Well,” he took a deep breath and clasped his hands in front of him, “I asked you over to apologize for how I acted last night. I shouldn’t have closed you out like that. I was harsh and didn’t treat you kindly. I was extremely stressed at that moment but it doesn’t excuse my behavior toward you. For that, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” she stammered, eyes down timidly as she fidgeted with her fingers. “I understand completely. I shouldn’t have shown up without an invitation. I don’t know what I was thinking.” 

But, I did invite you. How do you think you knew where to come? I didn’t text it to you today either.

Kamryn’s eyes shot up to meet his gaze. Her mouth fell open, then closed, opened again, only to snap shut again. His eyes peered into hers, and the sudden thought that crossed her mind in his voice shook her. “I- Well, I- Um. I- Feel. I feel like I’m crazy,” she finally whispered with a chuckle, her eyes searching his eyes for the answers to the questions she was afraid to verbalize. 

Am I actually going crazy? 

You’re not crazy, Kamryn. Just stay calm. Don’t freak out on me. Okay?

She was too stunned to freak out and much too curious to run. Her heart pounded in her throat as she swallowed hard around it. Her breaths were nearly nonexistent, shallow, and quick. She could hear as her blood flowed through her veins, whooshing in her ears but she still managed to hold his eye contact, probing further. She had to be sure this was real.

So, you can hear my every thought?

Yes, if I tune in to you, yes, I can.

Ain’t no fucking way. This can’t be happening. There is no fucking way! Jimin didn’t offer a response to her thoughts and only flashed an amused smile.

If you can really hear me, like, if this is for real, tell me what your favorite color is. But you have to do it in a way that I can’t deny this is legit.

“Purple.” That mysterious glimmer in his eyes was overwhelming as if he were undressing her with his eyes, peeling back every layer of security one by one.

Kamryn’s hands flew up to cover her mouth, and her eyes seemed to triple in size. She felt like she was in a fever dream and would wake up any moment. Leery but fascinated, like a child witnessing a magic trick, she leaned back on the couch.

“No fucking way.”

“Fucking way!”

How is this possible? How long have you had this gift? 

Resting her hands back in her lap, she sat up, awaiting his answer, having to test this phenomenon again.

“Hmm, I can’t remember when it really started, but I’ve been able to control it since I was about seventeen. I was just able to do it one day but I inherited it from my father. Honestly, I’ve never really considered it a gift, though.”

“Jimin. This is– Wow! I don’t know what to say. I’ve never experienced anything like this before.”

“I’m just glad you didn’t freak the hell out and take off out the door.” They continued to gaze at each other for a moment until Kamryn broke the silence.

So, that was you when I was on my way to the police station? And as I was being questioned?

There was another question she really wanted to ask but hadn’t conjured enough bravery to ask aloud just yet.

Yes.

You said you invited me last night. Why?

Jimin eyed her as if trying to read her expression along with her thoughts.

Because. You had something that I wanted. That I needed.

What was that?

His eyes searched her face and then traveled along the curve of her body, burning the edges of her aura on the way down. His expression was playful with a hint of mischievousness. The teasing smirk and intense eye contact made her want him, but when he licked his bottom lip, he could have charmed her out of her panties right then if he wanted to.

“You and that reward you held for me, warm and wet-” His eyes rested on her lap, only alluding to her sweet release from the previous night.

“That was-? How did-?” She knew it was him but needed to hear it from his lips. She needed further evidence that she was not insane.

“I have many ‘gifts’, as you call them. However, there are some I’m more excited to show you than others.”

That was really you? In the shower with me?

“Yes. Are you upset?”

“No.”

“How do you feel about it?”

She hesitated, and that’s where she fucked up. The thought crossed her mind before she was able to reel it back, knowing that he could hear everything.

I loved it. It was a little shocking but exciting at the same time. Your hands felt so good on my body. So much so that I’ve been having flashbacks of your fingers slipping in and out of me. Your lips on my skin. Your voice in my ear. I want it all over again, but for real this time. 

“Do you know that you are strong, Kamryn? I think you are stronger than you know. You can say and do tough things. Uncomfortable things. Speak up for yourself like you did today. I want to hear your voice, loud, and clear. Or are you afraid of me?” 

She didn’t know exactly how to answer that question because she was a little uneasy.

“I’m just nervous,” she sighed, “that’s all.”

“Is that what you want? Do you want me to touch you now? Not telepathically but for real?” She didn’t reply but immediately knew that she’d slipped, and he heard the answer she thought, judging by his smirk growing into a full-on smile. She was fighting for her life, wavering between fear and complete and utter arousal. He stood and maneuvered around the coffee table to stand in front of her, and she peered up at him through her lashes. “I want to hear you say it. Do you want me to touch you?”

A million and one thoughts flooded her mind as she stared at his outreached hand. She noticed his soft chuckle, then imagined how her racing thoughts must sound to him. Every fiber of her being wanted to yell yes but that wouldn’t be the appropriate response, right? While uncertain, she still muttered the word. “Yes.” She wanted, no, she needed to feel his skin on hers.

With a satisfied smile, he took her hand so that she stood, then he took her once-occupied seat. He leaned back on the plush leather, and Kamryn could only interpret the look in his eyes as an invitation she willingly accepted. She straddled his lap, and he wasted no time before he pulled her down to him and crashed his lips against hers. Their lips and tongues danced, slippery and wet against each other as his hands gripped her thighs. His thumbs were placed on her jeans, right on the mound of her pussy which sent electricity to her core, and it leaked for him. His hands traveled up and under the back of her shirt, and when his palms caressed her bare skin, she wanted to scream. The traces of his touch left static, hot in its wake.

“I’ve wanted to touch you, to taste you, for so long,” he said against her lips between kisses. For so long? What did he mean by that? She’d only just met him a couple of days ago. Had he seen her around the complex? Is that why he seemed familiar to her? This, along with the unsettling feeling in the pit of her belly, was enough for her to pause and slowly pull away from the kiss. “What’s wrong?” His lips glistened from the transfer of her lip gloss.

“I- I just have a weird feeling. I think we should stop,” she said breathily.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just feel- I don’t know.”

“Yeah, of course, we can stop here. Did I do something wrong?” His chest heaved from their heated exchange, and confusion painted his expression.

I don’t know. I’m just a little suspicious of you. Fuck! This was the second time she allowed her thoughts to betray her, exposing herself to him prematurely.

“Why are you suspicious?” He laid back on the sofa and looked at her like he could eat her up any minute now.

What did you mean when you said you’ve wanted me for so long? We just met.

“It’s nothing really. I admit, I’ve seen you around the area. It would make sense, seeing as we’ve both been living here for years,” he said as his thumb swiped the denim material covering her thigh.

That was true but there was still something nagging at her as if she was in danger. Her thoughts went back to the other night when she watched him walking back in the direction of the store. Just the thought made her stomach reel.

“Don’t hurt me.”

“No. Never. Why would you say that?” He sat up to thumb the smooth skin of her cheek as he looked genuinely concerned. Her body screamed for her to pull away from him. To hop up from his lap and sprint home but strangely enough, it yelled for her to lean back in–to let him have her. When she averted her eyes away from his constant gaze, he positioned himself right back into her line of vision, a silent demand for her to look at him. She glanced away again, so he firmly but gently took her cheeks between his thumb and fingers to direct her head back to him. “Tell me.”

Her breath hitched, and her heart seemed to pound even faster. She was so scared, but her pussy leaked even more into her panties. Unable to move her head, she was forced to look at him as she answered. “Nevermind. I’m being weird. I’m sorry,” she murmured. He released his grip on her and the look in his eyes, dark yet inviting, tempted her to let it go, to succumb to the safety they seemed to promise her. But the feelings of uncertainty continued to haunt her, tightening in her chest. “Just- If you promise not to hurt me, I won’t run. That’s unless you’re some kind of psycho serial killer or something,” she half-joked, but he didn’t laugh. He didn’t even smile.

Can you really promise? That you won’t run from me?

Why? Why do you ask that? Her eyebrows furrowed.

There is so much about me that you don’t know. I’m not a good person, Kamryn, and I’m afraid that if you get to know me, the real me, you’ll leave–just like everyone else in my life. I always thought I was damaged beyond repair, but that was before I met you. I want to be good–for you.

This pulled on Kamryn’s heartstrings, understanding how it is to feel abandoned or uncared for, as well as the need and desire to have someone in your corner to support you. From the outside looking in, it would seem they were only sitting there, staring into each other’s eyes, their vision only shifting from one eye to the other. She was unsure whether she was willing to accept whatever his confession was out of desperation to keep him–the man who seemed to kiss the ache of her own brokenness–close to her. Was she already mentally preparing herself to endure anything he might mention in order to keep the attention he was giving her? The attention she had always craved, yet never received? Was she that desperate for love and affection that she was willing to throw caution to the wind? It’s not like he was actually a murderer.

Can you promise that you’re not going to hurt me?

  I promise, Kamryn.

Will you be honest with me?

          Always. I won’t hurt you. I won’t lie to you.

Kamryn’s eyebrow raised at his statement. With a touch of her newfound confidence, straightforwardness, and a bit of gullibility in accepting his promise, she finally conjured up the courage to ask the question she’d been wondering since yesterday morning.

Did you kill Micah?

    Yes.

Her body stiffened, and she gasped–mouth and eyes wide–but continued to search his face for any trace of deception. Kamryn’s hands shook as she placed them over her mouth again. Slowly, she shifted from his lap to stand between his knees. Was he fucking with her? Did he really do it?

“Yes,” he repeated calmly. The sureness in his voice and the boldness to repeat his answer sent ice through her veins.

“Your- You’re kidding, right? S- S- Stop fucking with me.” Her breath quivered, and she trembled while looking down at him, still seated comfortably on the couch. “You’re not being serious right now. Please tell me you’re kidding.”

He didn’t even blink. “I’m not.”

Kamryn took small steps back without even realizing it. Her breaths came out in short, forced bursts, and she could see the edges of her vision beginning to fade. She felt like she was going to pass out.

“Why?” Her voice trembled, coming out just above a whisper.

“For you.” His eyes softened, and his tone was damn near soothing, which terrified her more than anything. “The way he treated you was unacceptable. I couldn’t let him hurt you again.”

Her knees wobbled as she backed up slowly. The space between them began to clear, leaving behind an unspoken truth she was not ready to accept. An odd mix of emotions took over her: fear, disbelief, and confusion. But there was something else, something much darker and unnamable, that seemed to be waiting just under her surface. “Jimin, that’s– That’s not…normal. That’s not how you fix your problems.”

“I never claimed to be normal, baby,” he said with a smirk that bordered on the lines of pride and vulnerability, “or that I was trying to fix anything. I did it to protect you.”

“I need to- I- I gotta go,” Kamryn said, shaking her head as she stepped back again, bumping her leg on the coffee table. Her mind yelled at her to get out, to run. She turned to make her way to the door, and just as her hand touched the doorknob, he called out to her.

“Kamryn.” He didn’t raise his voice, but she jolted nonetheless. Kamryn froze and was unable to turn around to face him, but she took notice of the way he said her name, coated with need, and begged for understanding. “You’re safe with me. I promise.”

“I- I just need to think.” A chill traveled up her spine, and her throat tightened around the lump that had formed, a failed attempt to stop the tears from falling.

“Kamryn.” He didn’t try to stop her, but after calling for her one more time, his silence seemed to make things even worse. When she stepped into the hallway, it seemed to extend in front of her like a never-ending tunnel. As she walked, her movements were stiff and jerky, and her heart continued to pound in her ears like a bass drum.

She rushed to the elevator and pressed the button repeatedly as if it would make it come faster. The chill ran up her back again and seemed to finger through the hair at the nape of her neck. When the elevator finally arrived, she hopped in, and the doors began to close when she glanced and saw a figure standing in front of them. Her breath caught, joining her heart as it leaped to her throat, but when she looked up, nothing and no one was there. It seemed like she held her breath the entire ride down. Once she reached the ground level of the D building, it took her a moment to step out, looking left and right before slowly emerging from the elevator. Kamryn tip-toed away from the sliding door but took off running when she caught something approaching her out of the corner of her eye. Her throat burned from her excessive panting, and her nose was starting to run from her body overheating. She looked back to see that no one was chasing her. 

Outside, she gasped, gulping down the fresh air that welcomed her, and crouched down to gather herself, hugging her thighs to her chest. Finally, her body seemed to be calming down; her heart rate began to slow, and her breathing started to balance out. Tears filled her eyes as the way she was feeling was much too overwhelming. When she felt ready, she stood and walked to her building. 

She reached the door, and as she grabbed the door’s handle, she startled, nearly dropping her phone when she caught a glimpse of Jimin in the glass’s reflection, only to look again to see that no one was there. Her heart pounded wildly, and her breathing was irregular as confusion and exhilaration flooded her senses. She entered the building and continued the short walk to her apartment. Once at the door, she realized she didn’t have her purse, which meant she didn’t have her keycard. Shit! Along with her purse, she’d forgotten her laptop and camera as well. She banged on the door, continuing to scan her surroundings, not thinking about how she would explain all of this to Mariah if she answered. 

Kamryn was sure that this would be the first and last time she would feel the relief she felt when Tiara’s face appeared instead as she swung open the door.

“Why are you banging on the door like you don’t have any sense? Use your fucking key,” Tiara growled.

“Bitch, move.” Kamryn huffed while walking past her. “Don’t you think I would have if I had it?”

Tiara’s eyes went wide, not used to getting that kind of reaction to her speaking recklessly to Kamryn. She closed the door, locked it, and went back to what she was doing in silence.

Kamryn rushed to her room, closing and locking the door behind her. Her chest continued to heave as she caught her breath, but she was home, and she was safe. Alone in the darkness of her bedroom where no one could see, she placed her hand on her heart as it danced in her chest but couldn’t ignore it as grim satisfaction kissed the rounds of her cheeks, causing her to smile and blush thinking back to his admission.

For me? To protect me?

[joonslfttiddie]

🤣

[joonslfttiddie]

OMG 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽 The way I found myself in an all white, sterile room while reading is amazing. It was so beautifully dark and immersive. When she ran her fingers over his stitches, my whole body reacted. I could feel it! I loved it so much.

Title: Call Me Monster

Pairing: Monster!Jungkook x Medical Examiner Assistant!F!reader

Summary: A secret experiment hidden within a morgue is uncovered by someone who should never have stumbled upon it. What she awakens will change her life forever.

Word Count: 3569

Trope: Supernatural AU/Smut-Horror

Rating-M for Mature. Very mature.

Warnings: Graphic language, graphic violence (not towards reader), blood, gore, body mutilation, body horror, death/murder, choking(nonsexual), Jungkook is not a corpse at any point (not explained in the fic but he's never been dead), Jungkook has stitches and sutures, unprotected sex, MALE POV, minors DNI 18+ PLEASE BEWARE ALL THESE WARNINGS. It is labeled HORROR.

A/N: This is for @lapydiaries annual spring event by @sanjoongie Sad Boys Club! I really enjoyed doing this male POV and my song for this is Monster by Exo. I was inspired by the lyrics. Thank you to @pars-ley for reading and encouraging me through this whole process as well as the fucking gorgeous banner!

@sanjoongie I hope I did you justice, my muse. As always, @cafekitsune for the dividers! I hope everyone enjoys and once more...read the warnings please.

His very first thought is a gentle caress that gives voice to his meaningless existence.

What ... .is…that…?

The obsidian sea that he’s suspended in is suddenly filled with an intoxicating fragrance that rouses something within him.

Within…me…?

Who...what…am I?

Answers elude him, his mind sluggish as he tries to comprehend the new senses that seem to be awakening within him.

The delightful aroma is suddenly ripped from him as a pungent sting assaults him.

No, no!

Come back!

His mind fights against the disruption before he’s sent back into the perpetual black void.

Hurts.

Hurts!

Searing pain rends his cold flesh as his mind explodes into fragments, agonizingly endless and he longs to be returned to his painless oblivion.

Despite his wordless protests, the torment persists time and again to pluck him from the blissful refuge of his painless vacuum.

Sensation arouses him once more, yet this time a tender caress soothes along the former afflictions mixed with that tantalizing scent. 

This gentle warmth and rich fragrance contrasts the agonized suffering that it has him struggling to…

To what?

More…

Don’t stop…

Must…

Before he can fathom what it is he wants, the sensation is taken from him.

NO!

NO!

Stay-

Sparks ignite within his lethargic brain and travels the expanse of his large body as he grapples against the return to the hellish purgatory of nothingness.

Ages pass as he reaches out with his mind, searching, searching for that divine touch.

Just…

Again…

Please…

His thoughts are disjointed as he pushes…stretching…yearning.

Tingles sizzle through his limbs as he forces his awareness outwards, a dull ache lingering in the wake of the burn.  

Something catches his attention, a muffled reverberation as another sense awakens.

A grating thrum assaults his sanity before a soft, lilting series of notes lulls his anguish.

Much as the soothing caress dispelled the agonizing pain, this melodic tone has him straining towards it.

Before long, he can distinguish them from one another as sounds begin to make sense in his mind.

“Doctor, I-”

“-worry about that, just-”

“-say so, sir-”

“-alright, then you can-”

The sensation of movement jolts his body before the voices are cut off from him again.

No, no, no-!

Deep within a cold metal drawer, his body twitches then goes still once more.

Ages pass as he floats in the limbo between consciousness, motion and metallic clamoring yanking him from his mindless suspension.

Pain.

Agony.

That horrible grating tone.

Then the sporadic lull of that hypnotically mesmerizing voice…

Never enough.

He longs for the gentle touch that can alleviate his painful wounds, that intoxicating aroma to awaken these unknown desires, yet they never come.

Words begin to permeate his mind as the stinging prick of something sharp repeatedly stabs into him, then a drawn out tugging sensation precedes yet another…

“-the last of my creation.  Perhaps I shall fail once again, but I have an inkling that this time around, something is much different in you.  ‘Jungkook’, this part still has its toe tag, how amusing!  Ah and here I’ve been calling you ‘Monster’. Would you prefer a real name, hmm?”

A deep chuckle echoes within his mind as that grating sound irritates his ears, each word cutting through his haze as the steady piercing pricks and tugs continue.

A distant chiming sounds and the unpleasant laughter coming from this being halts abruptly, and he mutters curses under his breath.

“Patience, my friend, and I’ll have you stitched up and whole in no time.”

Want…

Need…

Soft shuffling fades as silence returns as each new wound slowly numbs and he begins to fade back into-

That familiar fragrance wraps around his senses as his entire body thrums with excitement.

Here…

Please-

“Doctor?” 

The sweet aria of that one simple word washes over him and he strains to beckon it closer.

Soft steps approach as he strains to reach out to it, vibrations beginning within various parts of him.

“What in the world-?” 

His mind reels as suddenly he’s given the gift of that sublime caress.

A soft flutter sounds before the voice is purifying him once again.

“Jungkook? Why are you still here, you should have been-”

The melodic voice is cut off by a low keening noise, the harsh din of objects falling seeming to startle the poor creature.  

“Oh my god, are you-?”

The keening sound grows until he realizes it’s coming from within himself.

Please-

Don’t-go-

Unlike before, the presence doesn’t retreat; this gentle lingering touch presses firmly into his neck before the glorious sensation is stroking over various parts of him.

Yes-

More-

“You’re breathing, oh my god, how is this even possible-?”

MORE-

Awareness snaps into place as the once atrophied muscles within him stir, his eyelids peeling back slowly to reveal the source of all of his longing.

He takes in a hitching breath, then another as everything coalesces into one focal point.

The soothing caress, the sublime melody, the intoxicating scent.

This creature…

You…

“What are you doing here?” 

The booming disruption once more wars with that beautiful voice, stirring up a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and emotions he’s trying to comprehend.

“Doctor! This man, he’s not dead, he’s-”

“Move aside-”

The comforting touch is replaced by agonizing prodding, and he longs to rail against the interruption of his blissful moment.  

“Doctor, sir, he-”

“He is of no concern to you. Get out before I-” 

“You’re right, Doctor, I’ll go let someone know-”

The meaty hands halt their pawing, and the man on the table's large dark eyes flick over to the being they extend from.  

“Wait.”

The tone from that one word sends a primal sense of alarm through him as the doctor’s hands withdraw and bunch into fists.

“Doctor, we don’t know how long he’s been like this, he needs to be-”

“You really shouldn’t have come here today.” 

Each movement sends a dull ache into his muscles and nerve endings as he attempts to turn his head, a harsh rattling leaving his throat as he watches the doctor approaching you.

Unsuspecting.

Innocent.

His mind rages against his uncooperative limbs, not knowing why he needs to move, only that he MUST.

In slow motion, he can only struggle against himself as your eyes lock onto the approaching form, widening in fear as those horrific hands clamp around your fragile neck.

No!

Don’t-touch-!

Your once harmonious voice is cut off by a strangled cry, then your face is contorting in agony as the doctor forces you from the door into the wall.

The sight of your suffering finally tips him over the edge and his ungainly body begins to obey.

Your distressed gaze flicks over at the sight of him rising from the table as you claw at the murderous hands attempting to snuff the life from you.

“What-?”

The sheet covering him slips off as he finally gets to his feet, awkwardly lurching towards you as he reaches out to grab the offensive being touching you.

A low wheezing leaves his throat as he forces sound out, trying to enunciate his thoughts.

“No-”

The doctor’s eyes bulge as he looks up at the towering creature approaching him, his hands loosening on your neck as his monster reaches out for him.

“Stop! I’m your creator, you don’t-!”

Those are his last words as he grips the doctor’s lower jaw and yanks, tearing it from his face in a sickening wet snap.  

You drop to the floor as the doctor’s hands slacken, your poor rasping attempts at breath making Jungkook’s rage flare up as he takes in the red marks on your throat.

Pain flashes in his jaw as it tightens, every slumbering muscle fiber in his body tensing as he turns his wrath on his so-called “creator”.

Jets of hot crimson paint the sterile room as he digs his fingers into the soft pliable flesh, rending and tearing at the vile man until he’s unrecognizable.

The soft sound of your gasping finally cuts through his murderous fog, and he feels his fury recede as he turns his large dark eyes upon you.

“Please…don’t hurt me…” You whisper.

The sight of you cowering on the floor only causes his once atrophied heart to ache, and he falls to his knees before you.  

“Hurt…?” He forces out, his stiff vocal chords raspy and harsh to his ears.

You tremble before him, but he shakes his head as he holds his bloodied hands out to you, palms up in supplication.

“No…won’t…hurt…you…” He finally manages.

Of course he won’t hurt you.

He would never.

Could never.

The coppery air is thick and pungent, a fine mist of scarlet settling upon your delicate skin.

The fear in your wide eyes as you study him has him longing to comfort you, but his mind is overwhelmed with too many senses.

He winces as the tang of iron assaults his senses, and he can barely smell the intoxicating fragrance he’s come to associate you with.

It’s there, but it’s as if it’s buried beneath far too many layers of rotten refuge.

He lets out a soft whine as he looks down at his hands, tacky from the drying crimson as he flexes his fingers.

“You…you really don’t want to hurt me?” 

Your voice has him snapping his attention back on you, and he crawls forward so that his face is mere inches from yours.

His big dark eyes study you, and he inhales deeply, finding your scent and a calm washes over his face as his lashes flutter shut.

There-

Yes-

You repeat your question, and he finally opens his eyes to gaze upon you, his head tilting back and forth as he finds himself longing to get even closer.

Yet your palms are pressing against his bare shoulders, your gaze drawn to the numerous sutures and stitches adorning his flesh.  

“No…won’t…hurt…” he finally manages to grind out, his voice trembling oddly from his withered vocal tract.

You release the pressure of your palms against him, the warmth of your skin like a balm to him as they hover over the various incisions.

He reaches out to touch the red marks on your throat from the hands that threatened to take you from him.

“He-hurt-” His voice grinds out, yet this time it’s not from disuse, but a burning rage still simmering inside of him that reignites.

 Jungkook’s eyes darken, his jaw clenching as his teeth flash, then he’s spinning around to focus on the source of your pain.

You can only watch as he sets upon the doctor’s corpse once more, his fury manifesting into beating the dead flesh into pulp. 

“Stop-” 

“Please…he’s gone-”

“Jungkook-”

The sound of his name washes over him like a lullaby and his aching fists drop to his sides, his head turning towards you.

His dark eyes melt from murderous agitation, widening as he looks at you with innocence and longing.

“Jungkook?” You say once more, and his heart stirs at the sound.

“Me…?” He asks, a tiny smile curling his lips as his face lights up at your voice.  

His entire world trembles as you return the smile, your face taking on a radiance that he can’t help but react to.

“Yes…you…you’re such a mess.  Can…can I clean you up?” You hold out your hand to beckon him over.

He immediately scrambles over to you, rising to his full height as he takes your offering.

“Oh…my goodness.” You whisper as your gaze rakes over his full form.

Jungkook can only beam at you as you study his naked form, though his senses still war with the foul stench of the vile human’s entrails.

His nose wrinkles at the odor and you seem to notice, pursing your lips as you take his hands and look at the mess he’s made.

“You did this for me?” You ask softly, your eyes locking onto his and he nods quickly before reaching out to try to touch your face.

Your skin looks so warm, calling to him to touch and caress every inch-

“Come with me.” You command and he is but a slave to your every desire.

You lead him into an adjoining room, and the overpowering scent of the mutilated viscera fades as he watches you turn on a faucet to let warm jets of water flow out.  

“I’m going to wash you, okay, Jungkook?” You tell him and his eyes follow your every move as you discard the now stained white medical coat and turn back to him.

“Yes.” He says, his voice slowly becoming less pained as he does his best to speak more.

It’s hard to formulate words and thoughts as his senses are assaulted with so much input, everything feels so familiar yet so brand new.

He wanders forward, blood caked hands seeking the cleansing flow of water, letting out a surprised gasp as he watches the red matter coalesce and rinse from his palms.

“Warm…” he hums, fascinated by the soothing sounds raining down upon him as he steps beneath the cascade of water.

“Does it feel nice?” 

His skin prickles as the soft tone, then your tender hands are skimming along his arm.

He shivers as he turns his face up into the water before turning to look upon you.

You are lathering up a sponge as your eyes rake over his full form, stepping closer to start washing the filth from his chest.

He freezes as he takes you in, now completely nude as you stand before him, the rush of the shower drenching every glorious inch of your bare skin.

His lips part as his body reacts in so many unfamiliar ways to your beauty, his eyes tracing every curve and dip of your supple flesh and his mouth waters as he begins to pick up even more of your intoxicating scent.

His breath hitches as his lower region aches and engorges, his hand automatically rushing to press against his stiffening erection.

“Oh..my...I guess you aren’t dead after all-” you quip, and his eyes flick to your face, then he follows your gaze to where his hand is palming at himself.

A low whine escapes his throat as he closes the small distance between you, his eyes consuming the sight of your sumptuous body as he backs you into the tiled walls. 

“Smells…good-” He whimpers, burying his face into your neck as he grabs your thighs and begins to rut against you.  

“Oh my god-um…wow…you really are a monster-” You gasp out as he groans into your neck sucking and licking along your throat.

“Jungkook.” He whimpers, pulling back to give you a wide eyed stare.

“Yes, yes, Jungkook, I didn’t mean-oh fuck right there-” 

His lips close around your nipple, his hand cupping the supple flesh, lifting it as the nub pebbles in his mouth and he explores the unique texture with his tongue.

Your voice is soft and lilting, your gasps and moans ringing through his mind like the most sacred hymn.

Though he doesn’t know what all these thoughts mean, he knows that he must have you.

He just doesn’t know what it is he is aching for, only that you possess the ability to give it to him.

He lets your nipple pop out of his mouth as his hips continue to move with a mind of their own, his cock swollen and throbbing for a release he doesn’t understand.

“Hurts-” He whimpers, looking up at you with those huge brown eyes, silently pleading for you to help him.

“Oh, baby…you’re not used to that, are you?” 

Your voice should be soothing, yet it only serves to make his already stiff member throb painfully.

He chokes out a strained grunt as your fingers encircle his engorged flesh, his hips pistoning into your tightening grip.

“Yes-! P-please-!” 

The sensation of his cock dragging against your palm as he pushes himself into your fist makes his head spin, needing to feel you ever closer to him, skin to skin-

His arms cage you against the tiled wall abruptly as he experiences the satisfying tug and drag of his dick as his thrusts become more desperate.

His breathing becomes erratic as you stare up at him, your lips parted as your sweet voice whispers encouragement and he begins to feel his balls tightening.

Furiously chasing some kind of relief, he lets out a pleading howl as he teeters right on the edge of-

He’s torn back from the brink when you quickly remove your hold on him, but before he can protest, you’re grabbing one of his hands and directing it between your legs.

He realizes that this is the source of his growing hunger; his fingers delve into the syrupy fount pooling at the apex of your thighs and he salivates as the potent aroma assaults him.

He inhales deeply as he’s overwhelmed with your scent, and he can almost taste-

Before he can finish the thought, he’s plunging his fingers through your silky folds to gather the viscous fluids along his digits, then quickly stuffing them into his mouth.

His other hand replaces the empty space, your wanton moans of pleasure encouraging him to continue his search as he slides his fingers along his tongue to taste you.

Your hand covers his larger one, guiding him to where you want him to touch.  

He learns quickly what you’re asking without a word spoken, his large doe eyes studying every minute tremble of your lips, every flutter of your lashes.

His thick thighs push against yours to open you up to him, sandwiching your supple body between his and the tiled wall as he grinds himself against you.

The pads of his drenched fingertips drag over a small swollen nub and the way you throw your head back as your eyes roll prompts him to repeat the motion once more, then again as he sucks your taste from his fingers.

“Oh my god…yes…right there…please-” You whimper and he recognizes his own need echoed in your cries.

“Right…there?” He manages as he roughly pinches and kneads the bud, shocked by the way your body jerks and writhes under his touch.  

“Fucking hell-” You gasp and he’s delighted when you grab his shoulders and wrap one of your legs around his hip.  

Instinctively, he pulls his fingers from his mouth to grab your other thigh to hoist you up off the floor.

The moment you wrap your legs around his waist, he pins you against the wall and thrusts his hips forward so the underside of his length slides along your core.

The sensation of your moisture coating him tips him into a mad frenzy as you push your hand between your bodies, guiding his next thrust into a tight, wet opening that seems to pull him deeper with each clench.

Guttural noises mix with frantic whimpers as he snaps his hips forward and up into you, and his eyes roll as your body encases him fully.

His body is driven solely by an innate primal compulsion as he drives his cock into you over and over; harder; faster-

He can barely comprehend the words spilling from your luscious lips, he knows only that the sound only urges him to chase this overwhelming need within him to bring you both to some sort of culmination of your joining.

The fragrance wafting over him from your arousal, the taste of you lingering on his tongue, the sweltering suction of your body devouring his aching cock finally overwhelms him completely as his balls constrict painfully.

“Oh god, oh fuck I’m gonna-I’m gonna come, baby boy-” 

A growl rips from his throat as your already clenching walls grip him like a vice; a hot rush of fluid floods his pistoning cock as your entire body tenses and quakes and you let out the most exquisite sound he’s ever heard.

As your nails rip through the skin of his back, raking over the taut stitches connecting his shoulders to his arms, he finally reaches the climax he’s been seeking as he surges forward one last time to bury himself deep within you.

His entire being shudders as his balls release their burden, erupting in a pulsing, torrential flood.

All the tension finally leaves his body as he pours himself into you, his gasping breaths and moans slowing as you ply his face with soft, tender kisses.

Soft breathy whispers tickle his cheeks, your gentle touches leaving him trembling and weak as his legs give out and he slowly sinks to his knees.

He whines as he holds you against him, unwilling to withdraw from you as he cradles your body in his lap.

The jets above continue to rain down upon your joined bodies as your melodic voice carries him into an almost dreamlike state.

“My monster…” your words rouse him and he pulls back to look at you.

Your lips beckon him and he presses his mouth to yours, a deep hum vibrating his throat in delight as he experiences your kiss.

“Monster…is bad…I’m -Jungkook…” he forces out, realizing that it’s becoming easier to vocalize his thoughts.

You cup his cheeks and he sighs softly at your tender touch, his long dark lashes fluttering in contentment.

“Jungkook…I happen to like monsters.” 

Your words resonate within him and he studies your face before coming to a decision.

His lips curl, elation flooding him as he gives you a radiant smile before he speaks his first full sentence.

“You…can call me monster.”

[joonslfttiddie]

Be Mine

Seven

💜Fic Pairing: BTS Member x OFC

💜AU/Genre: Dark Romance | Demon Member

💜Warnings: (for entire work; not chapter specific) Mental Illnesses/Troubled Childhood/Alcoholic Parent/Mentions of Domestic Violence/Physical Violence/Stalking/Gore/Mentions of Blood/Sexist Remarks/Derogatory Remarks/Detailed Murder/Murder of an Animal/Language/Adult Themes/Sexual Themes/Mind Control/Telepathy (invading thoughts w/o permission)/Fingering/Masturbation/Manipulation/Alluding at Drug Usage

💜Rating: MA

💜Word Count: 3,245

Chapter Seven

Park Jimin

“What the fuck are you doing here? How did you find me?” Jimin snarled, furious with his father’s sudden appearance in his home. He hated that he was here, that he found him so easily, also that he wasn’t able to feel him coming. Jimin had moved his mother states away from his childhood home a month after his father had left them, and that glimmer of security quickly thinned, slipping between his fingers. The sudden flames that fanned before his eyes, revealing his father, had completely caught him off guard.

Dressed neatly in tailored black slacks paired with the slim-fitted, black button-up, he sauntered around the apartment. His curious eyes roamed the place, but his demeanor was comfortable, like he lived here himself. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, reflecting the same casualness. Jimin’s eyes remained glued to his father’s slender frame, on alert, his fists clenched at his sides. Hating the fact that his body had not forgotten the past traumas; instinctively, he stood, prepared to defend himself. He was already mid panic attack after commanding Kamryn over, thinking with his lower head instead of his usual calm, logical one. He didn’t need this added stress ever, but especially now. “Leave. Now.”

“Is that any way to greet your father? I haven’t seen you in twenty years!”

“I wouldn’t mind going another twenty years without seeing you.”

“Oh, come on, now. I know you’re not still holding on to old shit,” he walked past Jimin to sit on the sofa. He leaned back to relax into the plush pillows as if he owned the place, then plopped his hard, red-bottomed dress shoes on the coffee table. “I just came because I felt something,” he paused as a teasing smile traced his lips. His finger tapped on his chin as if searching for the appropriate word, “Unusual in our bond,” he finished.

“Our bond?” This was the first Jimin had heard of said bond, realizing now that he’d never spoken to his dad about the powers he held. Never really got the chance to. He wondered if it was similar to the connection he has to Kamryn.

“You didn’t know I could feel everything you had going on?” No. No, he didn’t know. Just the thought that he was connected to his father in any capacity made him uneasy.  “Boy, I could feel when you moved here, when you murdered your first victim, even when you committed other petty sins. But this feeling? This is new. I just had to come and see how you were managing. One of the last things you said to me was that you were nothing like me. Remember? How’s that going?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your bitch-made side, of course. Half demon, half bitch. I could nearly taste your repulsing human emotions. What is this? Love?” He laughed a taunting laugh that only pissed Jimin off even further. “You could have at least just used women for the only thing they're good for, pussy, but here you are. In love,” he teased and laughed even harder. “I could feel that you decided that you wanted to commit to her. Don’t get me wrong, I did slip up, and get your mom pregnant, but I didn’t stay out of commitment to her. I just stayed around to see if you would make me proud and follow my legacy, but what a waste of time that was. That and she did make a mean meatloaf. Anyway, you’re seeing someone? Who is she?”

“Who is who? I’m not seeing anyone.” Jimin’s heart raced, both from the concern for Kamryn’s safety and also, the fury within was almost all-consuming.

His father eyed him, knowingly, as Jimin was too eager to deny the accusations, and his body language snitched. He could usually flash an immaculate poker face, but something was off with him today. Was it because of the weird, softer feelings he’s been experiencing today? Fleeting feelings of sadness, guilt, and love crept in but he had been able to justify them away. Or was it because he was under the scrutinizing eyes of his father? A grown-ass man with the same mentality of that powerless, teenage boy?

“Hmm.” His tone reeked of judgment then he pulled his feet to the floor, sitting straight up on the couch. “She’s coming. I can smell her, just like your mother and the rest of those bitches, the wet stink of pussy. I love it.” His smile was menacing, stretching unnaturally across his face, and tested Jimin’s patience further.

“DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE.” His father speaking about Kamryn was like gasoline to his already blazing wrath.

“Shh… you wouldn’t want her to hear us, would you? She’s such a curious creature, I see. Better yet, invite her in. Daddy could show her what a real man looks like. Hell, you could watch if you want. Maybe learn a thing or two.” Jimin’s chest heaved as he panted hot breaths, unable to react the way he wanted, afraid for Kamryn, who was close. Without breaking eye contact with his son, his father, with a raised eyebrow, began moving his hand like a marionettist controlling its puppet. He pulled and spun the invisible string in the air, and then he raised his hand up in a knocking motion. At the same time, knocks rapped at Jimin’s door.

With each knock, Jimin’s heart slammed hard against his chest, and dread filled his belly. His eyes flew to look at the door, then back to an empty sofa. His father had disappeared just as quickly as he appeared, leaving nothing but rage and his taunting laughter echoing in Jimin’s head. He rushed to the door, his teeth retracted, but the anger within wouldn’t allow him to fix his eyes. For the first time in a while, he felt out of control. It was taking over him, swallowing him whole into a wide mouth of fury. He cracked the door and averted eye contact to get rid of Kamryn, knowing that she wouldn’t be safe here. Not right now. 

When he glanced at her quickly, he could see that she was coming from under some type of trance and assumed it was his father’s doing. After he sent her back home, he closed the door and rested his forehead on its cool surface. His nerves were too frazzled to tune into her fully, but he was relieved when he was able to feel her move past the threshold of her apartment. 

Worried that his father could return at any moment, either to his place, to Kamryn’s, or the nursing home to terrorize his mother, Jimin was unable to sleep that night. He had to protect them. All night he spiraled, chastised himself on how he let his defenses down, so comfortable that his father was able to blindside him. He searched his mind for any inclination or memory of what his father’s weakness could be. He hoped that his father wouldn’t have enough interest in him to resurface, but he did, and that possibility didn’t sit right with him. He had to get rid of him once and for all.

That morning, he checked in quickly and could feel that Kamryn’s mood was off; oddly enough, it seemed to mirror his own. “I’m sure she’s pissed at how I handled her last night. Fuck!” He swiped a quick hand through his hair, then leaned both hands against the edge of the sink. For a while, he stood there staring at himself in the bathroom mirror until he was finally motivated to begin getting ready for the day. While racking his brain overnight, he got the great idea to visit his mother. He didn’t lie when he said that he didn’t have family here; he didn’t. His mother was only a twenty-minute drive away in a neighboring city. He visited her often, but today, he went with a purpose.

“She’s been good. Well, as good as expected. She still hasn’t been participating in any activities, just wanting to sit and stare aimlessly,” Ashley, the aide at the nursing home, updated Jimin. “I was hoping she would benefit from the specialist we had come in to teach alternative ways of communication, but she wasn’t paying them any attention. Her eyes definitely light up whenever you visit, though. She knows who you are.” The kind woman pointed Jimin in the direction of his mother.

He agreed; it did seem that way. Jimin noticed how his mother’s lifeless eyes seemed to sparkle, and she would make eye contact when she saw him. But that was it. Since that night, over two decades ago, his mother became vegetable-like, not speaking, rigid, and immobile. Catatonia. That’s what the doctors called it, but he didn’t need a name for it, knowing that what she saw that night, that horrifying image of his father, along with the turmoil he put her through until the very end, shattered her already fragile mental wellness. He’d tried to connect with her telepathically a few times, but it never worked. Her mind was as desolate as his heart was before Kamryn.

He walked over to stand at the table in the community room where she’d been wheeled to sit. “Hey, Ma. How are you? Did you miss me?” The expected silence was comfortable, and it warmed his heart to see her brown eyes looking between his own. It was almost as if her eyes were smiling at him. “It’s such a beautiful day out. Let’s go sit under your favorite tree.” As he wheeled her across the paved path outside the back door, Jimin thought about how he hadn’t mentioned his father to his mother much, afraid that reminding her of him would make the mental prison she was confined to even more unbearable. He didn’t want to bring him up, but this was a matter of life or death. He knew he had to; however, he stalled by telling his mom more about Kamryn first. “Do you remember the woman I told you about? The one I thought I may have fallen in love with at first sight? Well, we finally met outside of me delivering her food. It was organic this time.”

He initiated the wheel locks on her chair, then sat next to her on a wooden bench and recounted to his mother how he just happened to go to the convenience store that night, and there she was. “Beautiful, of course, but she was just as wonderful as I imagined her to be. It’s exciting, experiencing emotions I’ve not felt in forever, thanks to this woman. It’s different and uncomfortable at times, but I find myself craving more. I don’t know, Ma. I really like her,” he smiled brightly and met his mother’s gaze. Tears began to form in her eyes, and he took her hand, resting his own on her lap.

“She makes me so happy. I don’t know how to handle these new feelings, but I’m willing to explore them further. I’m excited to explore them.” His smile faded, and his expression displayed the worry he was truly feeling. “I don’t want to hurt you or make your condition worse, but I have to mention– She’s in danger, Ma. It’s Dad.” He studied her face and took note of her eyes shifting frantically. He squeezed her hand in hopes that she could feel his attempt to comfort her. “He appeared in my house last night, and I didn’t even feel him coming. Honestly, I didn’t think I would ever see him again, and I was perfectly fine with that possibility. But knowing that he’s so close and able to read our bond– I can’t leave it this way. Oh yeah, our bond,” he said, demonstrating air quotations with his free hand, “is a connection where he said he can read and feel my emotions. He says that he knows what I’ve been up to by reading it. That’s why he showed up; he could feel the love I have for Kamryn.” Jimin sighed roughly. “I have to get rid of him for good, but I can’t think of a way to do that. I’ve been up all night trying to think of what his weakness could be, and I just can’t seem to-”

He and his mother sat in that spot for a while with Jimin deep in thought; his eyes focused on the grass growing between the cracks on the sidewalk. One could nearly see the gears turning helplessly in his head as he tried to find some kind of solution. He smiled when his mom squeezed his hand and squeezed hers back. She did it again, bringing his attention back to her. Once she had his attention, she did it again, but this time, Jimin noticed it was more than just a loving gesture. It was rhythmic.

“Wait, Ma. Start over?”

She did it again with obvious pauses between each sequence of squeezes. She stopped and seemed to search his eyes for a sign that he understood. Ashley was now outside checking on other residents, so Jimin called her over.

“Hey, you guys okay over here?”

“She’s squeezing my hand, but it seems rhythmic, like some kind of code? I think she’s trying to communicate.”

“Are you serious? That is one of the techniques we learned. Let me see,” she said and replaced his hand with her own. “Ms. Toni, can you start over, please.” Ashley’s eyes were focused on their hands as if she was listening. “She said ‘baby’! Yes, ma’am, this is your baby!”

He pushed away the tears that threatened to sneak from his eyes, but Ashley’s fell free. This was amazing, and he was so proud of his mother. Ashley sat with them for a moment and explained the fairly simple method.

“Each squeeze represents a letter. So, one squeeze is A, two consecutive squeezes is B, and so on and so forth. If they are answering close-ended questions, one squeeze is no, and two is yes.”

Jimin understood that that was a very basic and rushed lesson, but he was excited to practice with his mom.

“You’re amazing, Ma. You have known this whole time that I was your baby, huh?” Squeeze, squeeze. He sniffed back more tears and asked, “Are you happy here?” Squeeze, squeeze.

They made more small talk, and as they practiced, she was able to speed up, and Jimin was able to decipher even faster. With her unique language, his mother asked, “Min happy?”

“Yes ma’am, I’m happy.” He smiled at her and then waited to see if she would say something else.

“Dad bad,” she shared.

“Yes. Yes, he is.”

“Kill.”

“I’m going to have to. That’s the only way that we can all be safe. I have to end this.”

“Heart.”

“My heart?” Squeeze. “His heart?” Squeeze, squeeze. “Is that his weakness?” Squeeze, squeeze. Jimin pondered what his mother shared, then asked, “What do I need to do with it?”

“Burn.”

“I need to burn his heart?” Squeeze, squeeze. “Okay.”

“Girl. Blank mind. Dad.”

“Kamryn? If her mind is blank, he can’t get in?” Squeeze, squeeze. “Is this how you've been keeping me from reading you?” Squeeze, squeeze. “Why?”

“Mind ugly.”

“You were trying to protect me from seeing your ugly thoughts? Memories?” Squeeze, squeeze. 

“Sorry.”

“No. Don’t be sorry. I’m sure you had your reasons.” He looked at his mother and felt he could see past the tears forming in her eyes. Suddenly, his own eyes began to prickle when he thought back on his childhood. He realized that his mother did love him. He was actually the only thing keeping her alive. Her depression was debilitating at times. He faulted her for it and was so angry that she didn’t fight harder to be a better mother to him. She loved him the best that she could. She squeezed his hand. “No?”

“No reason. Bad mom sorry. Love Min.”

There it was. Even though her phrases were choppy, there was the apology he never received, and resented his mother for never giving. He was a grown man now, but hearing that from her brought him to his knees. As if he was that little boy all over again, he leaned over with his head in his mother’s lap and sobbed. His shoulders bounced as the emotions he’d been holding in for decades spilled out onto the blanket Ashley had draped across his mother’s lap earlier. Her movements were almost robotic, but with much effort, she moved her hand from the armrest of her wheelchair. Unable to fully open her hand, she rubbed a loose fist across his hair–her attempt to comfort and soothe her child.

After what seemed like an hour, Jimin lifted his face from her lap, brought the neck of his shirt over his face, and wiped. He dried his face of the tears and snot before taking his seat back on the bench and taking his mother’s hand back into his. There was nothing more that needed to be said between them regarding that topic. He’d gained the revelation of his mother’s heart, and she knew that he needed that apology and that release.

“So, how do you do it? Keep him out.”

“Hum.”

As he left his mother, a variety of feelings swirled within him. Jimin was fascinated and so happy that he was able to speak with his mother for the first time in twenty years. He was relieved that he finally had the answer on how to keep his mother and Kamryn safe. 

On the drive home, he tried what his mother mentioned and hummed inside his head. It wasn’t hard but it was a challenge to just focus on humming a song, but he could see how it would be effective. His mind was clear. No intruding thoughts. Nothing. He would need to try this out with Kamryn. But first, he needed to talk to her, to make things right. The way he shouted at her last night wasn’t right, and replaying it in his mind, the look on her face when he yelled made his heart feel weird. While he would usually take in the pain of others and add it to the reserves of his life force, it was different with her. He didn’t have a name for this emotion he was feeling, but he knew that he didn’t like that shit.

When he got home, he pulled out his phone and shot Kamryn a text. The feeling that replaced the uncomfortable one that had been lingering since earlier was undoubtedly excitement. This is the same feeling he felt as he watched the lights in Micah’s eyes flicker and then fade. He was so ready to see her face again, and he smiled when she agreed to stop by his place. Hopping up, full of newfound energy, he began to clean up for her. Not that his place was dirty, but a little touching up was needed. After vacuuming and putting his folded laundry in his bedroom, he sprayed a little of his cologne onto his neck while he was in there. When he caught a glimpse of himself in the full-length mirror, he smoothed out his shirt and adjusted a few stray strands of hair. Just as he was checking his breath, which was fine, there were three tiny knocks at his door.

[joonslfttiddie]

Title: Antithesis

Pairing: Serial Killer!Hoseok x F!Reader

Summary: Your dream of seeing the glorious capital city has long been snuffed out as you find yourself outside the walls. Lawlessness and chaos reign as you find yourself imprisoned by the very people you thought you could trust. A fated encounter with a mysterious man sets you on a path that is much different than you ever could have imagined.

Word Count: 18742

Genre/Trope: Dystopian horror au-smut/angst

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Warnings: VERY heavy dark content trigger warning. This is a villain collab so read at your own risk. Adult language, vulgarity, blood, murder, captivity, dystopian themes, lawless society, graphic descriptions of torture and murder, allusions to a multitude of past traumas, mentions of human trafficking, very vague allusions to mistreatment of innocents (women and children), mentions of rebellion, reader is a bit of a masochist, unprotected sex, blood play, I mean he's a serial killer...obvious MDNI

A/N: This fic is my contribution to the Year of the Snake collab I was lucky enough to get an invite to! Thank you to @sanjoongie for including me and to all the other authors for this amazing and fun experience! I'd work with all of you again without hesitation.

Also, thank you so much to @pars-ley @frenchkisstheabyss @yoonguurt and @potatomountain for beta reading and helping me along the way, I couldn't have done this without you. @daemour is the genius behind the gorgeous banner as well. Thank you so much! And my always lovely @cafekitsune for the dividers.

I listened to alot of dark themed music for this, but especially Man On Fire by Ateez, it fits this Hoseok perfectly.

Consciousness permeates the deep black of sleep in the form of screams.

Wet, ripping noises cut through the fog.

Your head throbs in time with the steady thump of your heart, the desperate cries and pleading surrounding your entire being.

I’m too tired to beg anymore, you think.

So just stop.

Yet, the shrieks grow in volume, an almost eerie music blended with the low, soft humming beneath it all.  

A soggy plop fills the room around you and the screams are cut off with harsh gasping.

I can’t-

Wait.

Your throat works as you slowly open your eyes to the truth.

I’m not the one screaming this time, your brain informs you.

It takes long moments for you to process the insanity playing out before your dry, bloodshot eyes.

The normally dark room is illuminated by a three legged lamp, acting as a spotlight.

The scene it’s currently lighting up defies logic, your brain unable to comprehend what it is that’s happening.

The long, lean form of what you assume is a man hovers over a larger form, his back to you.

Rivulets of liquid trickle from the blade gripped in his hand as he lowers it over and over.

“You FUCK-” the prone form cries out, then the knife descends again, coaxing out yet another scream.  

What the hell was going on?

“Fuck you-” the large man, who you now recognize as your captor, screeches.

Throat tight, hands clenching, you can only watch with a numb fascination as this unknown man wreaks havoc on this disgusting monster.

Again, you think, as the blade plunges down.

Again, as an arc of blood paints the walls crimson.

AGAIN.

How is he still alive? You wonder, astonished at the weakening pleas.

“Just…kill….me….”

“Kill you? How boring.” the soft voice of the armed man fills the room around you.

Even in your starved and beaten state, you can’t help but admire the musical quality beneath the raspiness.

“Bastard.”

“Tch, such a mundane insult.”

The arm wielding the blade finally halts, the tall form crouching down to start working at something on the injured man.

You try to crane your neck to see what he’s doing, but his back is blocking your view.

Gurgles and moans echo within the room as you watch his back work, seemingly pulling something from the man.

“Fuck-” cuts through the disgusting noises, “Just…take…her then-” 

“Her?” your savior halts his movements, and you can see him cock his head at the man he’s looking down at.

Time seems to still as the room goes quiet.

This is the moment that will stay with you until the day you take your last breath.

This moment.

As if in slow motion, his head slowly swivels around, following the gaze of the horrid man who's held you here for who knows how long.

Damp tendrils cling to his forehead, trickles of red coloring his face.

The gleam of his white teeth all the more prominent with the carnage painting his skin.

“Well, well, well…I didn’t know I had an audience…” he whispers as his dark eyes meet your own, “Seems I’m not the only monster in the house.” he hums melodically as he studies your form.

Hands bound behind your back, lying on your side, he scrutinizes the variety of cuts and bruises littering your body, eyes narrowing at each new discovery.

“Tch…how pathetic.” he whispers, the depth of his eyes seeming to take on new life as his smile fades.  

“What’s that?” he asks, finally breaking the hold he has over you with his gaze as he turns back to the gurgling mess of a man before him.

I should be feeling fear, you think.

Terror at what this butcher is doing right before your eyes.

Yet, you can only watch gleefully as he yanks and tears at one of the horrible men who put you in your current situation.

Someone you once called “friend”.

Even if you die in the next few moments, you refuse to deny yourself the pleasure of listening to this monster’s screams and pleas.

Not once when you begged for mercy did they ever relent.

Elation thrums through you as his watery screams fill your ears in a heavenly song.

A harsh sound joins the chorus as your body jerks, straining to see the performance going on before you.

The unknown man’s head swivels back to you, eyes curious as a lopsided smile twitches his mouth.

It’s then that you realize that croaking laugh is your own.

The streets of this forsaken city were narrow, the nauseating scent of debris and rot pungent as the filth called humans brush past you.  

Shaking off the haze of your vision, you choke down the bile threatening to rise up at the disgusting smells around you.  

For all you knew, all you did was add to the stench.  

Rubbing your chafed wrists, your eyes stay locked on the solitary figure ahead of you as he brushes past the bustle around him.

For some reason you can’t understand, the murderous deity that unlocked your cage and freed you simply walked away without a single word to you.

Perhaps it’s because he rescued you…perhaps it’s just the lack of having anywhere else to go, but here you are; following a man who just eviscerated a living being right in front of your eyes.

You blink as he turns down a narrow alley in the distance, breathing ragged as you rush to catch up.  

You’re unsure what you hope to accomplish in trailing him, you had been lucky enough to not have become his second victim of the evening when he turned his back and walked out.

Rational thoughts don’t exist in this horrible world, you think, reaching out to steady yourself on the jagged rock wall of the alley as your head swims.

It’s a struggle just to keep your eyes open as you slowly make your way down the darkened path, straining to find a glimpse of that white jumpsuit.  

The lack of dirty yellow street lights down the narrow alley doesn’t lend to accomplishing your goal, and you find yourself sinking to your knees on the wet pavement as a wave of dizziness washes over you. 

Closing your eyes in agony, grimy liquid seeps into the fabric of your pants as your legs finally give, feeling the rush of the void coming to claim you.

Here it is, freed just to die in the streets-

You barely register the footsteps accompanied by the deep, weary sigh before everything goes black.

“Well…fuck.”

Your first sense of the afterlife is the sound of a soft humming fan, a cool breeze washing over you as sharp pain rips through your skull.

Confused, you wrench open your eyes, grateful for the dim light as you take in a deep, relieved breath.

Obviously, pain doesn’t exist in death, or so you hope-therefore, you must still be amongst the living.

Reaching down to push yourself up into a sitting position, you register the soft feel of the surface you’re resting on as you glance at your surroundings.

Rubbing your hand down the thigh of your pants, you are stunned to find them almost dry. 

The memory of the fabric soaking through as you fell is pretty vivid in your mind, the knowledge that you should be shivering to death in a frigid, grungy alley making your head spin.  

Swinging your legs off what appears to be a narrow cot, you push down the thin blanket that is covering you as your gaze brushes over the sparse room you’ve come to occupy.

Well, you aren’t chained up or incapacitated at all, so that is a good sign already.

The glow of a soft light is coming from the half open door across from you, and as your vision clears, you take in the crate perched next to the cot that the fan sits upon; the thick little throw rug that seems so out of place as your bare feet sink into its plushness.

For a moment, you just stare down as your toes wiggle in the soft fibers, blanking out as you take stock of the state of your feet.  

What a strange thing to concentrate on, you think.

Their ragged appearance helps you focus, though, pondering things as you take stock of every cut and bruise.

Someone definitely brought you here, and while this looks like a cell of sorts, the open door goes against that idea of confinement.

Slowly drawing yourself back to reality from your wandering daze, you bring your hand up to your aching head.

Curiously, your fingertips brush over the rough surface of what seems to be a bandage, causing even more confusion to race through your mind.  

Someone had come across you in that alley and had brought you back to a clean, quiet room.

Instead of assaulting you, or murdering you, they’d administered first aid as well.  

What the fuck is going on? You ponder, inhaling deeply to calm yourself, then letting it out gently.  

Curling your toes once more in the lush rug, you take a moment to listen to the noises surrounding you.  

Or lack thereof.  

Apart from the soft hum of the fan, you can’t hear anything but tranquil silence.  

You lick your parched lips, ignoring the scowls from your stomach from hunger; lack of food isn't a new difficulty for you.

This silence is though.

Silence like this was eerie, almost deafening relative to the cacophony you are used to in your daily life.

Ignoring the variety of aches and pains from injuries you’ve long gotten used to, you make your way slowly to the door and whatever lies beyond it.

Tentatively, you peek through the opening momentarily before slowly opening it the rest of the way.

Confusion and relief wash through you simultaneously as you take stock of your surroundings.

The large open area is clean, sparsely furnished and void of any living creatures, two legged or more.

What appears to be an abandoned subway car sits across the room, drawing your gaze as you make your way into the huge space.  

Glancing back, you notice that the door you’ve emerged from is one of two doors next to one another and the large area appears to be kind of like a common area.  

Your feet make tiny little slap noises as you pad across the cold tile, avoiding the small areas that are carpeted as you don’t want to dirty them.  

Whoever lives here seems to value their cleanliness and you aren’t going to tread upon their seeming kindness by not murdering you or worse.  

With that thought, you take stock of your soiled and tattered clothing along with the lack of any footwear.  

“Great.” you mutter, wiping your palms along your thighs just to frown at the way the dried mud flakes off.  

Before you can process how to clean the little mess you just made, and eventually yourself, the door to the subway car creaks open with a metallic groan.  

Your heart flutters in your chest as you recognize the man standing in the doorway staring back at you.

Freezing in place you can only gape, eyes wide, at the man who just a day ago was elbow deep in that scumbags entrails.  

The murderer who tortured your captor and ex-friend until his screams finally faded into nothingness.

He looks much different without the bloodspattered white jumpsuit, wearing a dark hoodie and beanie and a normal pair of jeans.  

Time seems to still as he studies you, his stoic face not giving away any emotion as you struggle to figure out what to say to him.

Swallowing heavily, you feel your cheeks heat as you finally sputter out, “I’m sorry about the mess….” 

His eyes follow your hand as you gesture at your appearance, your clothing and the flakes of dirt on the floor before you, yet he gives you no reaction.

“There’s a shower over there,” he flicks his hand to your right, drawing your attention to a door leading to another room, “Food is in the fridge. You can find something to wear in the closet here.” 

He jerks his thumb behind him, into the railcar he had emerged from.  

You merely nod, a bewildering mess of emotions swirling within you.

You didn’t feel any fear in his presence, only the obvious wariness of the unknown and it confused you greatly.  

This man had killed right before your eyes and seemed to enjoy it…yet he’d also saved your life twice and was now offering you the simple comfort of food and cleanliness.

“Clean yourself up, get your energy back.  I’ll be out for a bit and I expect you to be gone when I get back.”

His words are terse, but not angry.  

Clinical, simple, detached.

You hesitate, but then give him a single nod before he turns on his heel and leaves back through the door.

He wasn’t what you’d expected based on your first impression of him.

To be fair, he was elbow deep in entrails as he tortured your captor before snuffing his life out.

A few moments pass as you listen to his footsteps recede after another door opens and shuts, then you bring your hand up to touch your probably filthy face.

Gross, you think, finally finding your feet turning towards the prospect of a hot shower.  

At least you hope it’s hot.  

The room you find yourself in is completely tiled, both walls and floor, and there’s a drain in the center.

A partition leads to a sink and a toilet and you make quick use of both before taking one of the fresh towels from a small shelf before shedding your disgusting clothing and bandages before turning on the water.

After a moment you tentatively stick your hand into the flow of water and you sigh happily at the warmth.

Stepping into the glorious stream, you let out a shameless moan of pleasure as layers of caked on mud and filth begin to wash down the drain.  

You almost revel in the way the hot water stings each and every little cut and bruise, reminding yourself that you’re safe and alive and that’s all that matters.

Spotting a little shelf with soaps and such, you set about cleansing yourself without any haste, wanting to prolong the inevitable.

Steam fills the room as you ponder what in the world you’re going to do when you leave here, given everything that has happened.

Prior to finding yourself in that cage, your life didn’t look so bleak.

Well…not as bleak as being told you’re going to be forced into paying your debts with your body.

Forcing down the anxiety that keeps trying to crawl up your throat, you focus on scrubbing yourself thoroughly.  

It’s been ages since you’ve gotten a true shower, without disgusting calloused hands washing you, or their prying eyes gazing at you full of lustful thoughts.

When you’d decided to come to the city from your rural home, the last thing you expected was to be where you are now, running from the very people you called ‘friends’.

What kind of friends convince you that their ‘help’ is from a place of care, only to use basic human needs against you?

When they’d set you up with a place to stay, food to eat, clothes to wear you truly believed the best of them.

You’d trusted them, leaned on them naively and really thought despite the squalor of it all that you could make a life here.

It wasn’t the glamorous life that you’d been told about back in your childhood, it was nothing like what you’d read and dreamt of.

Yet, you found people you thought you could rely on.  

Memories of the night you’d been awoken by them, yanked out of your tiny room to be told that it was time to pay up flit through your mind.

Tears prick your eyes to mix with the moisture in the air as you hum softly to yourself, trying to soothe away the terrible thoughts.  

Lathering your hair, you find comfort in the way the soap streams down your face to sting your eyes.  

It was better than hopeless tears that did nothing for you.

Pushing away the useless thoughts, you focus on cleansing each and every crevice as if it’s a sacred ritual before you sacrifice yourself to your fate.

By the time you’ve finished, the water is going tepid and you let out a soft sigh as you reach out to turn the water off.  

Slowly, you grab a fluffy towel from a shelf and slowly dry yourself as you try to make your mind blank enough to enjoy these small moments before you have to leave.

Once you’ve dried your hair enough, you wrap the towel around yourself and make your way out to the main area.  

Picking through the tangles, you go over to the door that leads into the area the man had said clothing could be found.  

Opening the heavy door, you step into a long room furnished with shelves and a large closet at the end.  

There’s a desk at the other end, with a computer and some technological devices you don’t recognize.

It’s not abnormal, given your upbringing in the country, there are many things you haven't seen before coming to the city.

Ignoring the unknown items, and not wanting to snoop in someone else's space, you head to the closet and open it up to find a neat array of clothing stacked and hung.

You take a moment to admire how meticulous and neat this man is, in such opposition to how you first viewed him, kneeling and covered in your captor’s entrails.

Shaking away the memory, you reach out to touch various items, finally settling on a soft pair of jogging pants and a black tshirt.

Hopefully it fits, you think, dropping the towel to pull on the clothing.

The pants easily slide over your once well shaped ass, drawing a frown from you.

You’d lost weight from being starved and while you never cared too much about your body, it was obvious that prior to coming here that these pants may not have fit. 

Shrugging the thought off, you toss on the shirt, lamenting the loss of undergarments.

There was no way you were putting back on the filthy torn panties or remnants of a bra that now lie in the bathroom.  

On that note, you rush back to clean up your mess, too thankful for your host’s hospitality to leave any mess in your wake.  

After a bit of rummaging, you find a small trash bag to dispose of your old clothing, vowing to return these clothes once you’ve made it safely somewhere you can start over.

Your stomach rumbles loudly as you tie off the bag and set it near the door to take with you when you leave.

“Right…food…” you hum after returning to make sure the shower area is cleaned out.

A small fridge sits in a small kitchen area in one corner of the room, and you smile softly as you peer inside.

Everything is so neat and orderly, just like everything else in here.

You grab the closest thing to your outstretched hand, grasping something cylindrical and closing the fridge before making your way to the little table nearby.  

Unwrapping it, you don’t even hesitate before taking a large bite, eyes closing as the taste of spices, meat and veggies wash over your palate.  

It has been ages since you’ve been able to enjoy the simple act of eating, bathing, just breathing freely and you find yourself wiping at your eyes as you make your way through the wrap.

It doesn’t take long for you to finish the meal, sniffling a bit as you clean up and finally look around the place your savior calls home.  

It was a very simple living space that was uncluttered, neat and clean.  

In your mind, the most lavish homes described in the books you’ve read can’t compare to how safe and secure this place makes you feel right now.

It was going to be horrible to leave this behind. 

Swallowing heavily, you drag your feet as you venture back into the room you’d awoken in, making the bed and checking to make sure you haven't left anything out of place.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t do much about your filthy state before you bathed, but you didn’t want to take too many liberties with trying to strip the sheets or anything.

You have a suspicion that the kind killer that brought you here isn’t going to want you snooping around, even if it is for the purpose of trying to launder some dirty bedding.

You make a point to take a cloth near the sink over to wipe up the dried mud you’d trickled onto the floor before disposing of it.

Hesitantly, you eye the door leading back into the long room, and to the door that leads out of this sanctuary.

“It’s okay, it’ll be fine.” you self soothe, rubbing your palms over your thighs as you linger a moment longer.

Gathering your courage, you suck in a breath and walk decisively to the door, grabbing the bag with your old clothing as you make your way out.

Thrusting open the outside door, your breath catches as you realize that it’s not a door to the outside.

You stare at the abandoned subway station platform, pillars casting shadows as far as you can see down each side before terminating in a dark stairway upwards to the horrible streets above.

Your heart thrums in your throat as you contemplate what awaits you.

Vision swimming, you suddenly sway on your feet, hand still clamped onto the door handle as ringing in your ears threatens to overwhelm and deafen you.  

A strangled cry erupts from your throat as you stumble, doing your best to steady yourself against the doorframe before you’re bolting back into the living area.

You barely register the heavy slam of the door as you rush back inside, dropping the trash bag as you find the nearest corner to slump down in a heap.  

Closing your eyes, you bury your face in your hands as you do your best to hold back panicked tears.

You know you need to leave but…

You’d almost rather suffer an unknown fate from the man who resides here than return to the streets above.

You have no idea how much time has gone by when you hear the sound of the door opening and closing once more.

Your body aches from being curled up tightly on the floor, trying to force yourself to get up and leave yet being unable to.

The thunk of the inner door sounds, then the sound of footsteps coming closer before halting nearby.

“Tch...I thought I told you to leave?”

His raspy voice greets your ears, and you finally raise your head and remove your hands to peek up at him.

Taking a deep breath, you try to muster your thoughts, glancing towards the exit before settling your eyes back on him.

His dark eyes study you, but you sense no malice in them as he takes stock of your state.

He crouches down beside you, tilting his head at you without saying another word.

Hesitantly, you try to wet your chapped lips, frantically searching for a way to respond.

“I…I tried…” you whisper, your own voice sounding foreign to your ears.  

His lips twitch down into a deeper frown as he raises an eyebrow at you.

“You tried? Interesting.” He says, his eyes lingering on your bare, injured feet, “I’d think a captive little bird would want to fly away at her first chance.”

Letting out a resigned sigh he pushes himself back to his full height, towering over you as he seems to ponder what to do.

“Thank you for the food and the shower and-” You start to ramble, desperate to convey your gratitude for everything he’s allowed so far.

He hums and waves off your stuttering thanks, glancing around at the state of the space.

“At least you’ve cleaned up after yourself.” He says, toeing the trash bag filled with your discarded clothing.  

You can only stare up at him as he looks around, then settles those curious eyes back on you.  

“One night.” He all but growls out, holding up a finger to punctuate his words.

Your heart leaps into your throat at the offer.

“One night, then you’re gone.  Don’t make a mess.  Don’t touch what you shouldn’t.” 

Eagerly, you nod at him, scrambling to your feet as he speaks.  

A brief respite before the inevitable yet any time you can put between you and the real world is gladly accepted.

You lean over to grab your bag of soiled clothing, clutching it to your chest before rushing to the door of the room you’d awoken in.

His soft yet stern voice halts you before you can hide away.

“And one more thing, little bird.”

You turn to stare at him, ignoring the way your hands shake at his tone.

“If you don’t leave tomorrow…I’ll kill you.”  

There’s a weight to his words that freezes your tongue momentarily, only allowing you to nod briefly before giving him a small smile.  

His face is stoic, yet there’s a glint to his eyes that tells you he’s not making an idle threat.

“Thank you.” is all you say, turning with tears in your eyes before retreating into the little room you’ve already come to cherish.  

Hoseok just stares as you disappear into his bedroom, closing the door softly behind you.

“Thank you?” he grumbles, shaking his head in confusion.

What a strange creature, he thinks, heaving out a weary sigh as he turns to grab some food.

When he’d gotten the alert earlier on his watch that the outer door had been breached, he’d been certain that you’d left and he wouldn’t have to deal with you anymore.

Yet, there you were, crouched in a corner like a broken animal.

He’s witnessed this city breaking some of the hardest hearts, and here you were, invading his private world like a wounded dove with a broken wing.  

People like you didn’t belong here, and the sooner he could chase you out, the better.

Fighting against the pity he feels when he comes across your kind, he focuses on eating then heading into his makeshift office to check in with the others.

The last thing he needs is some innocent, fragile bystander getting in the way of the bigger objective.

She’ll be gone tomorrow, he thinks, sparing one last glance back at his bedroom before returning to his routine.

After waking from a long, restful sleep, you go through the motions to leave.

Trying to psych yourself up, you barely make it to the outer door before rushing back in once again.

“Looks like I’ve chosen death.” You whine to the empty room as you force yourself out of the corner you find yourself in yet again.

Trying to shake off the anxiety lingering from the prospect of going back home, you find yourself looking around a bit more.

He said don’t touch what I shouldn’t, you remember, poking around a bit.  

Certainly he wasn’t implying everyday things within his home.  

You aren’t disrespectful enough to go opening drawers and snooping, but you do take stock of things that are on display.

Not that it’s much; he seems to live fairly simply.

There’s a couch and a chair in the common area, and the kitchenette area is clean and neat.  

It’s such a  stark contrast to what you’re used to.

Your own rented room is barely the size of a closet, you think idly as you wander into the bathroom area to clean up a bit.

By the time you finish washing up, you find yourself eyeing the door that leads into the subway car.  

“I’m not going to touch anything, just look around.” you say out loud, as if asking for permission from the air around you.

Hesitating for only a moment, you open the heavy door and step into the room.  

It appears that he’s converted the car into an office area of sorts; the area where you’d gotten the clothes has a very organized area for shoes, clothing, supplies and storage.  

It’s the other end that makes you realize this is likely what he was referring to.

You still have no idea what they are for, nor do you plan on going any closer to figure it out.

What makes you curious though is that he’s obviously set himself up below ground, in this abandoned area yet he has equipment that looks as if it’s not easy to come by.

Mind your business, you chastise yourself, turning to go back inside.

There’s no reason to cross any lines here.  

Besides, you need to steel yourself and attempt to finally leave.

Just the thought has you almost spiralling back into a panic attack, and you close your eyes and breath slow and deep.

This is definitely not the life you had planned for yourself.

Back in what you used to call home, the books you’d grown up reading had spoken of the iconic city life and the luxuries that were abundant if you were only able to get there.

It had glossed over the fact that it was basically impossible to get inside the city walls.

These writings had omitted how the world that went on outside this utopian city was filled with lawlessness and chaos.

Your naivety had driven you to leaving behind the tiny, simple world you’d known up to that point into a nightmare of violence, fear and anarchy.

You can only mourn the innocence you once possessed before your world was upended by coming here.

It has been only a year, you think, yet how different I am from that horribly gullible girl.  

You could make silly wishes about doing things differently, if only you had the chance; yet deep down you know that it’s just the way it is.

Never meeting the group of people you’d once called friends wouldn’t matter as you know inherently that everyone you may have fallen victim to would be the same.

Your heart still pangs at how easily you’d trusted.

At least back on the farm with the other orphans you had people who were like you.

Unfortunately you fear that you’re becoming more and more like the hollow husks of people you live amongst now.

Why in the world would you ever want to leave this safe haven you’ve stumbled into?

The moment you begin to think of the man who’d brought you here, it’s as if you’ve summoned him.

Your stomach drops as you hear the sound of the outer door opening.

Would he follow through and kill you?

Honestly, that scares you far less than the fate you’d suffer outside of here.

The inner door opens and you’re instantly struck by his sharp gaze as his eyes meet yours.

He’s wearing a dark jumpsuit this time, but the fine blood spatter on his face alludes to what the darker patches are on his clothing.

Yet, you can’t help but ogle his unique good looks.

Of course I’m crushing on a murderer, you think grimly, I’m that fucked up.

He pauses, tongue in cheek as he studies you, tilting his head as if observing a specimen.

You have to remind yourself to breathe as he finally moves, making his way over to set down a bag he’s carrying.  

“You don’t listen well.” He finally says, back to you as he goes into the kitchenette area to wash his hands. 

You take a moment to think about your response, wondering if they might be your last words.

Honestly, for some reason, you didn’t feel terror or regret.  

At least I can look at his handsome face as he eviscerates me.

Pushing away your dark, twisted fantasies, you mentally slap yourself and finally answer him.

“I don’t.  I…” you start, but find yourself fumbling for a valid reason.

At least one that could spare you another day.

He turns and takes stock of you, looking you up and down before just clucking his tongue and giving you a small shrug.

“You’re lucky I don’t like making a mess in my own home.  Just stay out of my way.” he tells you, giving you a stern look before he’s walking past you into the bathroom.  

As the door shuts, you breathe out a sigh of relief and retreat into the bedroom, eager to not squander the time he’s given you.

Tomorrow, for sure.

For a week, the days play out much the same.  

You attempt to leave, you have a panic attack, you hug the corner you’ve now come to call your home.

In an interesting twist, the man has provided food, tossing a bag at you each day he’s come back.  

He’s stopped threatening you, seeming to begrudgingly be giving you the time you need to leave on your own.  

You’ve made it a point to clean up after yourself, of course, even going so far as to deep clean the areas you make use of.  

Life is pretty boring yet that in and of itself is a relief.

It’s much better than the living above, running errands and trying to make any kind of earnings only to be locked in a cage and told you’re going to be sold for your body.

He’s even left what seems to be his own clothing daily in the bathroom for you, and he’d even shown you a small little area behind the kitchen area that housed a laundry room.

How the hell does this man have so much and how did he even get it in here?

Those are questions you leave unasked for the time being, not wanting to push it.

He’s already done so much for you.

There is one question you need to ask, even if he refuses to answer you.

You tentatively approach him one evening as he sits on the couch, fiddling with your hands as he turns to eye you, seeming to sense your presence.

“What is it?” He asks, his voice raspy and tired.

You wonder offhandedly what he does when he goes out.

Besides the whole cutting people up part of course.

Clearing your throat, you take a breath and finally ask.

“What is your name?”

He raises an eyebrow at you, frowning in thought as he studies you.

He’s not going to tell me-

“Hoseok. My name is Hoseok.” He says easily, turning back to type on his phone.

“Hoseok.” You repeat, appreciating the name.  

The silence stretches as you ponder what other little things he may be willing to answer before you feel him staring at you.

“Interesting…and here I thought you’d offer me your name even if I didn’t ask, little bird.” He muses, tilting his head in curiosity at you.

“Oh…I-” you begin, yet stop yourself, shaking your head.  

Thoughts of the woman you used to be has you answering honestly.

“I don’t want to use that name anymore.  I...there are things I want to leave behind.”  You finally answer.  

He just hums, then nods slightly as if in thought. 

“Fair enough…it’s not as if you’ll be sticking around for me to use it.” he says, returning to looking at his phone.

He’s right, you think.  

“I don’t mind ‘little bird’ though.” You tell him, drawing his attention again.  

“Also, I wanted to thank you for being so kind-” 

He makes an almost disgusted sound in his throat, shaking his head and motioning for you to stop talking. 

“Don’t pull that ‘you’re my savior’ bullshit on me. You can’t be delusional enough to think I’m anything but another monster in a sea of monstrosities.  Just don’t get in my way.”  

His words seem harsh, and you recognize their objective truth, yet you still are beyond grateful to him.  

Perhaps it’s remnants of your once trusting nature, perhaps it’s that small glimmer of hope that not everyone in this disgusting world is an uncaring beast.  

You just silently agree, wandering off to make yourself scarce but you can’t help the little smile that curls your lips.

“Fuck, don’t you get bored?” Hoseok asks, plopping down his bag as he spots you cleaning in the kitchen.  

The only thing helping you keep time with the days passing is his coming and going, and at this point you’ve been lingering here nearing two weeks.

You turn to look at him, using your forearm to wipe at your nose.

Tonight he’d chosen the white jumpsuit and you take a moment to admire the artful pattern of crimson he has spattered all over himself.

Pushing away how fucked up that thought is, you just shrug.

“I used to read all the time, when I was back home.” you respond, finding yourself thinking back on the days spent losing yourself to colorful stories and imagining what the world was like.

He lingers at your words, watching you quietly as you continue.

“I grew up on a farm, lots of orphaned kids who worked the land.  It was pretty boring outside of the daily chores...I wasn’t aware of how hard it is to actually come by books.  One of our overseers had a small library and I would sneak them out sometimes.” you ramble, reminiscing.  

He doesn’t encourage you to continue, yet he doesn’t stop you nor does he walk away.  

Taking that as a cue, you just go back to cleaning the counter as you talk.

“It’s funny, though, the way they portray the city.  I came here thinking that it was a wondrous and glamorous world, so much better than life in the country. I suppose it still could be inside. They don’t go into what it’s like on the outskirts.” 

He snorts, shaking his head as you look over at him in curiosity. 

“Just because something is glamorous doesn’t mean it’s not rotten to its very core.  You’d be surprised at how pretty the most rotten fruit can be.” 

He seems to catch himself after he speaks, huffing in annoyance as he turns and leaves the room to go into the subway car.

You ponder his words, wondering what he knows about it.

You don’t mean to eavesdrop on Hoseok, yet it seems he’s slowly lowering his guard around you; that or he just doesn’t care about you listening.

On occasion, you’ve overheard him speaking to someone as you go about trying to stay out of his way.

Or a number of someones, you think, picking up what appear to be names here and there.

Joon, Yoongi, Tae-something…each time you hear him speaking, you catch a hint of them making some kind of plans.

For some reason, you’d assumed by his reserved nature that he functioned alone, yet apparently he has contacts of some sort.

You do your best to retreat either into the room or into the bathroom to shower at these points.  

There’s no reason to give him the impression that you’re nosy; until you can muster the courage to leave, you want to do your best to be non intrusive.  

He could still end up killing you in the end, waiting until you’ve left only to follow you and kill you away from his sacred space.  

It only gives me even more reason to stay.

“What’s this?” you ask, eyeing the box Hoseok pushes into your arms one day.

He looks away, not meeting your eyes as he shrugs and answers, “Sick of you wearing my clothes. Just some shit I found.”

You watch him as he wanders off, unable to conceal the way your heart leaps into your throat.

Gradually, he’s seemed less annoyed at your ongoing presence; even if it is delusion, you’ve started to fool yourself into thinking that maybe he’s even come to enjoy seeing you.

As much as his forever humourless face can depict any happiness.

Rushing off to the room, you gleefully pick through the contents, cooing over the items within.

They're nothing fancy but the clothing is wearable and there are even undergarments within that appear to be new.  Cheap, but unworn.  

Folding them as if they’re the finest silk, you place them aside and continue to look through the box.

There’s even a dress within; a cute little spring green dress with a black bow.  

It reminds you of the vibrant grasslands back home.  

Quite opposite of the dingy browns and greys of this grimy city.

Smiling, you set about folding each item reverently before picking out a pair of pants and shirt, scurrying off to shower and change. 

You don’t notice the pair of eyes following you, softening at your apparent delight before he’s disappearing into his office.

Every day that passes, you linger longer.

Every night that you don’t leave, Hoseok seems to accept your presence even more.

Your interactions are short, simple yet you’ve found yourself talking to him more openly.

He rarely shares anything, but he never stops you from chattering at him.

It’s been almost a month now.

Since when did it become less about fear and more reluctance? You think, slipping out of the bed you’ve come to start calling your own.

Less and less do you find yourself afraid of going back to your old life.

Your attempts to leave are failing simply because you long to stay.  

That was a dangerous prospect, you ponder, yawning as you open the door to the room.

Your foot connects with something on the ground and you halt, frowning as you look down to see what you almost kicked.

A small tattered book lay on the floor, looking as if it had been propped against the door before you opened it.

Your heart pitter patters as you kneel down to pick it up, barely noting the slight tremble of your hands.

Studying the cover, you smile at the faded picture, then turn it over in awe.

A book.

He’d gotten you a book.

It doesn’t even matter what it’s about, you think as your throat closes and your eyes sting with grateful tears.

“I don’t know how you can stay here, without being bored.” He’d said multiple times at this point.

He remembered.

He remembered the conversation about how you used to love to read.

Books are so hard to come by in this place…the last time you’d been able to actually read a book was long before you’d made your journey here.  

Clutching it tightly to your chest, you stand slowly and wander into the little sitting area in a daze.

Settling yourself onto the couch, you just take some time to admire the gift he’s left for you with open appreciation.

You can feel your cheeks heating and you place your palm against one side of your face as you realize that you’re blushing.

Oh no, you think, shock coursing through you.

Am I…falling for him?

Physically, you recognize his attractiveness despite how he tries to cover himself with baggy clothing and his shaggy hair covering his face.

Yet, you know all too well what it means to trust someone with your emotions.

Still, he has given you shelter and has saved your life more than you could ever repay.

The internal war going on right now isn’t good for your anxiety, so you refocus on the precious gift.

Realizing that he may come back at any time, you decide to try to do something for him in return.

Placing the book ever so delicately on the makeshift table in front of you, you can’t help but smile happily as you head into the kitchen.

He’s always bringing home bags of food from his delivery job, so-

Home?

You blink in terror at how your mind has twisted itself so easily into never leaving this place.

Staying.  

Forget it, I’ll leave soon enough.

For now, just focus on making something nice for him.

Your cooking skills have always been above average, it’s one of the few things you’ve always taken pride in.

Growing up in the countryside on a farm, you definitely know your way around animals and gardens.  

You halt, turning on your heel to rush into your room, rummaging through the box of clothing he’d brought to you and fishing out a dress from the pile. 

You push away the thoughts fighting against this decision, and quickly change into it before heading back into the kitchen.

It’s just a cute little green dress with a bow.

Just another piece of clothing, nothing special.

Sure, of course, you think, shaking your head as you set back to your task.

Gathering what items he has within his pantry and fridge, you turn to pull a large kitchen knife out of a knife block.

“Ohhh…” you murmur, admiring the glinting blade.

Of course all of his sharp objects are honed to perfection, smiling at the thought.

You return to your humming as you set to preparing the ingredients for your meal.

Not long after you start, you hear the tell tale sign of the door opening and closing, signalling Hoseok’s return.

You take your time finishing the current vegetable, a simple green onion, before turning to see what he’s doing. 

Hoseok just stands looking at you, his face unreadable as he stares.

A moment of panic threatens to overwhelm you before you gather your best smile for him.

“I hope it’s alright...I wanted to make a meal for once.  I promise I won’t burn anything or make a huge mess.  I’ll clean up as I go and it’ll look…perfectly…”

Your rambling trails off as he slowly makes his way into the little kitchen next to you.

“You can cook?” He asks, eyeing the neatly chopped onion that you just finished working on.

Your heart lurches at his curiosity, elated that he’s interested and not threatening to kill you for staying yet again.

You just nod as you push the onion to the side, grabbing a carrot as he watches.

He looks so good, you think idly as you try not to stare at him.

Why am I suddenly so nervous near him? You wonder, unable to help glancing at him from the corner of your eye as you start cutting.

“I used to cook all the time before I came to this city…” you tell him, finding yourself rambling on about the mundane life of a farm girl.

He slowly slips around the little counter, seating himself on a stool as he watches and you find yourself just talking to distract yourself from your inner thoughts.

Yet, they just keep breaking through even as you speak faster, scrambling to distract yourself.

How the tendrils of his hair brush against his cheek, the bow of his lips curve downward, his dark eyes fixated on you as if he’s hanging on every word.

Swallowing heavily, you shake yourself out of those kinds of thoughts and turn the conversation to something more important.

“Thank you.” you tell him, the heat creeping up your neck from showing as you duck your head a bit while you prep.

At his curious head tilt, you rush on.

“For the book.  I…it’s been so long since I have even been able to hold one, and you…remembered that I mentioned…” 

You shrug a shoulder as you fumble for the right words.

“And the clothing...I mean, I know you don’t really want me here, and you don’t want me to wear your clothing and I know I’m sleeping in your bed and I’ve been nothing but-” 

Your stammering just makes the heat flare up in your cheeks even more, and you wince at how stupid you likely sound.

Your hand seems to move on its own as you try not to panic.

It was just supposed to be a simple thank you-

Then it happens.

You’re unsure what caused it, whether it was how silly you sound, or how ridiculous you look panicking and trying to distract yourself.

Hoseok is smiling at you.

Your heart seems to drop out of this universe into oblivion as your entire being turns inside out.

You can feel your entire body tense at the sight, his already handsome face lit up brightly with one of the more gorgeous smiles you’ve ever been witness to.  

The transformation is so insanely drastic that you lose track of what your hands are doing and you feel the knife start to slip from your grip.

Without thinking, you scramble to grab it with your other hand, resulting in the stinging pain of the sharp blade against your inner palm.

“Oh fuck-” you gasp, stunned as it clatters to the counter, blood welling up quickly and rushing from the wound to drip onto the counter before you can cover it with your other hand.

The sound of the stool crashing to the ground startles you from your shock, then Hoseok is beside you, grabbing your wrist as crimson wells up through your fingers.

“”Sorry, oh no-I’m so sorry, I made a mess, I will clean it-” 

“Shut up. Calm down.” He all but growls, his eyes locked onto your clasped hands.  

“Alright.” You say tightly, heart beating in time with the pulsing in your hand.

You’re more concerned over upsetting him than you are any pain right now.

Did you just fuck up so badly that he will really force you out this time? You worry, feeling your entire body start to shake.

It’s enough to distract you from just how close he is, how he’s touching you right now.

“You’re going to get it on your dress…shit…” he hums, slowly prying your hands apart.

You can only stand still as he looks your palm over, getting his own hands sticky with your blood without any hesitation.

“I ruined the food-” you say softly, sadly looking at the carefully cut veggies that are now splashed in red.

“Why are you worrying over the fucking food when you’re hurt?” Hoseok snaps, yanking your wrist to turn you towards him, pulling you closer to stare into your eyes.

Blinking at him, even in his apparent anger and concern, you can’t help but admire him.

Fuck he’s so gorgeous.

What is wrong with you? You chastise yourself, even as you revel in how close you are to one another.

“I wanted to thank you by doing something nice, and I only made a mess.” You whisper, unable to stop yourself from leaning into him.

His eyes drift from yours to your wounded palm, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as he loosens his grip.

You immediately think he’s going to release you and push you away, but instead he slips his bloodied fingers into your hand, teasing at the injury.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, his voice low and rough as he lightly traces the lines of your palm with his fingertip.  

Dizziness threatens to overwhelm you as your entire body heats from his touch as the pain radiates right down between your thighs.

He seems to notice the momentary swaying as he slips his arm around you, tugging you flush against him without taking his eyes from your hand.

“No.” you finally answer, tightening your thighs together as the press of your bodies give away something you never expected.

Hoseok is hard.

Your body reacts instantly by pressing closer to him before you can think clearly, distracted by the deep need blooming within you.

A soft groan escapes his lips as he shudders, and before you can recover from that, he’s bringing his finger to his mouth.

“Oh god-” You blurt out, clenching so abruptly that you’re grateful for his arm around you or you swear you’d be falling over.

All of your senses rocket into overdrive at this, breath hitching as you slip your free hand up behind his neck.

Finally his gaze flicks back up to your face, his eyes gleaming brightly as he licks the blood from his fingertips.

The sight of his eyes darkening from the taste, his erection pressed against you and throbbing, your blood staining his bottom lip as he sucks on his fingers…

You throw all rational thought out the window and allow your more base desires to take over.  

Not taking your eyes from his, you force your injured hand between your bodies, and into the front of his pants.  

You’re grateful that he’s wearing something loose as you bloody his naked lower stomach, eagerly seeking his cock.

An almost animalistic noise forces its way out of him as your wet sticky hand finally encircles his dick, immediately stroking along the length.  

“Fucking hell-” He growls, thrusting eagerly into your hand.  

The motion brings forth more hot blood, coating his cock and stinging your wound. 

Your panties soak through in the confusion of pleasure and pain, causing you to moan loudly at the sensation.

“Goddamnit-” Hoseok rasps, turning and lifting you onto the counter and forcing your legs open.  

Your entire body feels like it’s on fire as he pushes down his pants, exposing the crimson mess of his cock you jerk him off.

He lets out a guttural groan and you can feel him throbbing in your hand as he pushes your thighs further apart.

The sounds of your combined heavy breathing, moans and cries fill the room as he yanks your panties to the side, his eyes frantically flitting between your face, his bloodied cock and your exposed pussy.

His breathing hitches as the motion of his hips stutters at the sight and without thinking, you slide your hand around his neck to wrap your fingers around his throat.

“Come-” You command, and a string of curses greet your pleas before he’s gripping your hips and crying out as he bursts all over you in a hot flood.  

Your motions don’t stop even as his entire body begins to shake from the sensation, basking in the feeling of him coming all over you in spurts of white.  

Your grip on his throat loosens as his shaky breathing starts to slow, his eyes hooding over as he leans in to rest his forehead against yours. 

A moment ticks by, then another as you both hover in the aftermath.

Before you can say another word, Hoseok seems to come to his senses, pushing away from you abruptly.

“What the fuck-” He stumbles back, and you’re momentarily distracted by the red stain your hand left on his throat.

“Hoseok-?” You ask in bewilderment, the sudden shift in the mood startling you.

“Why…what the fuck….?!” He snaps, bending to yank up his pants, eyes wild as he looks at you.  

A pang in your chest threatens to suffocate you at his reaction, rationality finally returning as he hastily turns and rushes out.  

The sounds of the doors slamming mark his exit, and you’re left seated on the counter, legs spread wide, covered in a mess of sticky come and blood and shaking from this senseless lust.

You feel the tears wet your cheeks before you realize that you’re crying, reaching up to brush them away, only to leave behind a sticky mess of blood in your hand’s wake.

What the hell did you just do? 

What happened?

A flood of emotions crashes into you all at once; disgust at your actions, humiliation at his reaction to you, shame threatening to drown you in all of it.  

You slip off the counter, lower lip quivering as you feel your legs wobble beneath the sudden weight. 

Steadying yourself, you take a moment to gather your thoughts, mind racing at what to do.

You didn’t expect any of this, you only wanted to thank him.

Yet all you did was act like a common whore, letting lust get the better of you and ruining everything.

Tugging down the hem of your dress, you grit your teeth and try to bite back the tears that threaten to overwhelm you.

Right now, you have to do the right thing and get the hell out of here.

Forget the mess you’re leaving behind, all you can think of is fleeing right now, getting as far away as possible.

There’s no way you can face him when he comes back.

This time, it's your fault and the disgust you feel at yourself right now is more powerful than any fear.

You blindly make your way out the doors, finally stepping onto the platform and letting the door close behind you.

Panting heavily, Hoseok finally gets his wits together enough to look around at his surroundings.

He rests a hand against a crumbling brick wall, glancing around the dimly lit alley he’s currently standing in.  

Taking slow, deep breaths, he leans over and closes his eyes to collect his racing thoughts.

An overhead light hums as it flickers on and off, the cacophony of people and vehicles from the main drag almost comforting at this point.

At least it’s something normal, he thinks as he blows out a harsh breath.  

“Fuck.” He curses, balling his hand into a fist and hitting the wall.

He’s not sure what is pissing him off more; that his emotions are so twisted he can’t get ahold of them, or the fact that he bolted immediately after…that.

He isn’t a stranger to physical exchanges, but that’s all they ever are.

A means to an end, a quick nut, then moving on.

It was never anything like what he’d just experienced with you.

Not even burying his blade into the gut of someone inconvenient had ever given him the rush he’d felt with you spread out before him, the delicious noises you were making from just touching him, your bloody hand coating his-

“FUCK!” he shouts, startling some kind of rodent living amongst the trash down the alley.

Normally he wouldn’t be lingering in such a disgusting place but he isn’t in his right mind at the moment.

A flash of your crestfallen face causes him to sink into a crouch and tug at his hair wildly.

Why did he just run out like that?

He can still smell the coppery scent of you on him, his hands tacky with your dried blood.  

He stares down at them, flexing them open and closed as he tries to figure out why the urge to scrub it off isn’t overwhelming him right now.

A shudder rushes through him as he raises his hand to trace where your fingers squeezed his throat, his cock stiff and throbbing already at the recollection.

He’s always in control.

Always.

Except with you.

He’d lost complete control of himself, submitting to his desires…giving in to you.

Impossibly he didn’t loathe it at all and that shakes him to his very core.

He’s suddenly brought out of his spiral by the chime of his watch, indicating that his outer door has been breached.

Spitting out a string of obscenities, he quickly rises to his feet, hand dropping unconsciously to squeeze his crotch to quell the ache.

Surely, you just tried to leave again but probably panicked.

The idea of you crouching in that corner, fear forcing you to make yourself small has his feet moving before he even comprehends what he’s doing.

Certainly, you haven’t left.

Yet with each step, doubt creeps down his spine and before he knows it, he’s all but running back home.

You’re gone.

You’d actually left.

He halts, his heart pounding in his chest as he takes stock of the empty bunker.  

The ruined remnants of the dinner you were preparing lay amidst dark red and brown stains of your drying blood.  

The stool he’d knocked over still lay on the floor, and his eyes catch sight of little drops of blood he’d missed as he rushed in.  

The trail leads right back out the door.

She’d fucking left.

Emotions he’s not familiar with threaten to send him back into a spiral as he spots the tattered book he’d gone through so much to get for you.

Jaw clenching, he forces everything down, setting his mind to what his next steps are.

Day after day, he’d made it a point to tell you to leave, yet now that you’d actually found the courage to do so…

Anger wells up inside of him, making quick work of showering and changing before he’s hastily rushing back out.

He needs to get to the one person he can trust to find you.  

He has to find you.

He will tear this city apart to do so.

You keep wiping your hands into your eyes, trying to wipe away the tears, yet all you do is make them sting painfully with the mess on your hands.

Blood and come, the combination both causes your stomach to flip delightedly but also forces sharp pangs from your chest.

By the time you come to your senses, you’re far from the safety of Hoseok’s place, deep in the mania of the lawless city you’ve come to hate.

Lecherous eyes are everywhere you look, dark scowls and lewd grins threatening to send you screaming back to the security of the bunker.

The problem is, you have no idea how to get back.

Nor do you want to right now, the panic setting in from being exposed like this warring with the humiliation of what just happened.

You can’t deny how much you wanted just that to occur, to be touched by him, to be wanted…

The feeling of being discarded and abandoned hurts you to your very soul, feeling like a lost broken puppy roaming the chaos of the streets.

Increasingly familiar surroundings finally lead you to the tiny little room you called home for the last year.

The fear of your old ‘friends’ finding you is temporarily overridden by the need to get off the streets; at the very least, it’s been long enough that they likely won’t be posted there waiting right now.  

Still, you are cautious as you approach the dilapidated building, slipping quickly yet hopefully stealthily inside and making your way inside through the side door.  

As you finally twist the knob to your room in the way that will jiggle the lock open, you shut the door behind you and press your back to it.

Glancing around, you frown at the mess left behind by the people looking for you.  

The small room is barely a closet, and you didn’t have much to call yours, but they’d found a way to basically destroy it all.

Locking the door behind you, you slowly approach the torn pad you called a bed, sinking down to sit on it.

Exhaustion washes over you as you look down at yourself, eyes welling once more at the pretty green dress that is now spotted with dark stains.  

Cursing yourself for not cleaning up before leaving, you idly finger the specks as you ponder what the fuck you’re going to do now.

There’s no way you can stay here or you’ll just end up right back where you started.

Surely, your reappearance will be noticed.  

Yet, you have literally nothing but the clothing on your back.

Your gut wrenches at the predicament you’re now in, distracted suddenly by the semen caked over your thighs and dress.  

You don’t know what’s worse; fear of being caught and forced into whatever the hell they wanted to do with you, or the pain of not being near Hoseok anymore.  

Rationally you know that your very survival should be a priority, yet the agony of never seeing him again eclipses every other emotion right now.

Falling onto the ruined bedding, you curl into a ball and try to disappear, deluding yourself that the abyss of sleep will reset this grim existence.

“Hmmm…” Yoongi hums, tongue in his cheek as Hoseok gives him your description, nodding as he takes note.

Any other person might pry into why he’s looking for you, yet Yoongi is ever the professional.  

He knows better than to question anyone’s motives or anything beyond the necessary information he needs.

He wouldn’t have survived the chaos and anarchy outside of the city proper if he did.

Yoongi eyes the man before him, eyes flicking over his current state, his unusually controlled demeanor seeming to be falling apart as the moments tick by.  

“I’ll prioritize it.  The moment I get any info, I’ll ping you.”  

Hoseok just nods curtly, pulling his hood back up before he’s making his way out the door.

Of the small group of contacts he has, Yoongi knows these streets better than anyone.

He’ll find you; he has to.

He suppresses the urge to go stab someone to vent his frustrations, focussing on scouring for any sign of you.

He has no idea what your life has been like, what brought you to being locked in that cage the night he found you.

He’d never bothered to ask nor had you offered the information.

Regret fills him as he stalks intently through the narrow, winding side streets, barely noting the way people give him a wide berth.

Fingering the knife in his pocket, he clenches his jaw in determination, ready to draw it on the first person that gets in his way.

Fuck it, he may not even have the patience for a blade.

Whoever manages to get between him and his goal tonight will be choking on the limbs he rips from their body.

The first thing you are aware of upon awakening is the pulsing heat in your hand. 

The burning sting slams you right back into the reality of your situation.

Moaning softly in pain, you try to unfurl your contorted body, wincing at how sore your limbs are.

The disparity of waking up back here fills you with regret, cursing your impulsive past self for fleeing without thinking things through.

Your stomach growls loudly, reminding you that you have nothing to eat, nor do you have any way to clean yourself up right now.

There’s no way you can just languish here, starving and wallowing in your own filth.

Already the scent of dried bodily fluids and old blood taint your nose as you sit up slowly, glancing around the dark room with a sinking stomach.

The state of the room when you've returned lets you know that the likelihood of finding anything to change into is off the table.

Unless you leave here, you are doomed to wither away wearing the reminder of your reckless decisions.

Maybe….maybe it’s not too late to return. 

If there is a chance to find your way back to his bunker, perhaps he will at least give you the possibility of finding something else to wear…

Burying your face in your unwashed hands, you try to compose yourself enough to get the courage to do something, anything to move forward from here.

Hiding away until you turn into a pathetic corpse isn’t an option.

Standing wearily, you take a few moments to breathe deeply, collecting your thoughts, you slowly make your way to the door, sliding your bare feet along the debris on the floor.

Idiot, you chastise yourself, not even grabbing the soft slippers Hoseok had given you before you’d fled.

The door creaks as you open it slowly, peeking out to gauge if you can slip out unnoticed.

If you remember correctly, nearby was a small shop that you used to frequent and it was possible that the clerk might allow you to use the bathroom there to clean yourself up.

It’s wishful thinking but at least it was something to aim for.

At least the dark cover of night somewhat helped conceal you.  

By the time you find the particular building, your feet are already cut up and aching from the uneven pavement.

It didn’t help that you are drawing stares, arms wrapped around yourself as you rush past people who stop to stare as they bump into you.  

A litany of “Watch it, bitch,” and “Hey, come here,” comments have you mumbling apologies, doing your best to dodge the meaty hands that snag at you before finally spotting the familiar sign.

Hastening inside, you let out a sigh of relief at the familiar cramped space that you’d often visited.  

“Hey you can’t-” a male voice says as they spot you, but quickly he recognizes you and you give him a tentative smile.  

A look of concern crosses his features as he takes in your current state.

Before you can say anything, he’s rushing over, gently guiding you away from the door, glancing out worriedly before turning back to address you.

“Look, I dunno where you been, but people been askin’ after you.  You gotta get yourself scarce.” he whispers harshly, his gaze pausing on your scraped up bare feet.

“I dunno what kind of trouble is chasin’ you, but nothing good ever comes from their kind when they come askin’.”  

“I…I know…I wanted to know if…perhaps I could simply use a sink to wash my hands?” your voice is shaking, thin and trembling as you do your best to tamp down the fear at his words.

“Quickly, girl, but then you gotta go.  Far from here.”  He states, pointing to a small door near the back.  

Nodding as you rush quickly into the tiny bathroom, you swallow down the panic threatening to choke you.  

Relief mixed with pain wash over you as the tepid water rushes over your hands, and you use your thumb to tentatively clean the knife wound on your palm.

Mind racing as the grime sluices off your skin, you try to focus on your next steps from here. 

You know you want to find your way back to Hoseok somehow, yet your mind wars with that idea.  

What if he finally decides to follow through with his threat and cuts your throat open at your audacity?Worse…what if he just turns his back on you and tosses you back into the streets to be found by your pursuers?

Splashing your face with the water, you finally look into the cracked and dingy mirror in front of you.  

Your reflection just stares back, eyes full of fear and hopelessness.  

“Oh fuck off.” You hiss at yourself, making quick work of doing your best to clean up.

You return to the shop proper finally, the kind shopkeep bending down to grab something before he’s returning to your side.  

“Get yourself out of this place, girl.” He says, sympathy in his eyes as he drops a pair of slides on the floor before you.

Your heart pangs at this act of kindness, your eyes pricking with heated tears as he pushes a small paper bag into your arms.

“I ain’t gonna say you were here, but you make sure you don’t come back, yeah?” He whispers as you step into the slightly large sandals.

Your throat closes at the surge of gratitude, choking out a thank you before he’s pushing you back out onto the street.�� 

“Don’t let me see you back here.” he hisses before shutting the door behind you, gesturing in a shooing motion before you’re slinking away into the nearest alcove to peek into the small package.

Two buns peer back at you and your stomach loudly screams in joy at the prospect of food.

Sniffling, you wolf down the offering, rolling up the small bag and discarding it in the nearest trash can, trying to decide how to make your way back.

Yet, before you can even make it a few steps, an unsettlingly familiar voice calls out your name across the passersby.

“Well well well, look who it is.  I’ve been looking all over for you, sweetheart.”

The hard, dark eyes in that deceitful face freeze you in your spot, cursing your horrible luck.

There’s no mistaking that voice, that very particular scar on his mouth marring his otherwise handsome face.

A man you once called a friend, who betrayed you and is the reason you ended up in that horrid cage weeks before is flanked by two of his goons.

As they start towards you, your stomach twists into a knot before you can get your mind to work.

Panic has you contemplating what to do, throat tightening before your flight response kicks in and you’re fleeing down a side street then into an alley nearby.  

“Get back here, you little bitch!” His scream echoes behind you, the sound of their pursuing footfalls barely audible over the sound of your heart beating out of your chest.

No, no, no, you brain chant like a mantra to some unknown deity, please no-

It has been hours combing the main areas Hoseok is familiar with, each area presenting its own disgusting flavor of filth.

He is grateful that he’d brought his motorbike, making the search faster, yet he’s had no luck spotting you at this point.

He has no idea what he expected.

It’s not as if you’re just going to be out wandering the streets.

Yet he makes it a point to search each little alley and alcove; memories of the first night that you’d tried to follow him has him redirecting to find that particular area.  

A chime from his watch alerts him to a message and he stops his bike, yanking out his phone to talk directly to Yoongi.

“Did you find anything?”  He asks, discarding any niceties.  

Unbothered, Yoongi just lets out a weary sigh in response.  

“Not her exactly, but word is out that those trafficker fucks have been asking about her.  Doesn’t sound like they want to have tea and a nice chat.”

Baring his teeth, Hoseok’s face contorts in anger at the words.

It makes a bit more sense now, how he’d found you, the connection.

Their gang was well known and feared even amongst the shitty population outside the walls for indebting naive men and women into all kinds of gruesome work to pay them back.

It was all a front for human trafficking and Hoseok’s hand tightens around the phone as he tries to keep himself in control.

“Give me a location.” He demands, then his watch is chiming not even a moment later.

“Done.  And Hoseok…be careful.” Yoongi’s voice drops into a warning tone.

“Yeah yeah, I know.  I owe you one.”  He responds, already starting his bike back up.

“You sure as fuck do.” Yoongi says before ending the call, and Hoseok can’t even laugh at the man’s normal sign off.

He only has one thing on his mind and that’s finding these assholes before they find you.

Somewhere during the pursuit, one of the sandals had slipped off, then another and you find yourself running barefoot through the darkened, winding arteries of the city.  

Bursting out onto the main street, you grit your teeth as you stumble into passersby, followed by the curses of people as you ping pong through the crowd.  

You barely feel any pain from your wounded feet, the fear of being caught numbing them as it demands your full attention.

As you make your way into another narrow alley, you round and corner only to find yourself faced with a dead end.

The brick wall ahead of you mocks you, as you hear the pursuing footfalls behind you slow, then stop before laughter fills the little area.

“Fuck-” one of the voices pants as your mind races for any option to get yourself away from here.

Your eyes dart back and forth, cursing your horrid luck as you finally turn back around to face your pursuers.  

“Think you’re cute, huh?” Jugeum says, spitting to the side, then wiping his mouth as he stalks towards you.

The man behind him chuckles, catching his breath and pulling out his phone.

“I’ll call the car.” He announces, but Jugeum waves him off, never taking his eyes from you.

“Take your time, she’s not going anywhere.  Her and I need to have a little talk.” He says, a sinister smile creeping over his lips as you back up slowly.

Your entire body feels like a wound up spring, adrenaline and terror causing every part of you to shake uncontrollably.

“Please-” You try to speak, but he shakes his head, the nasty grin never leaving his face.

“It’s long past the time to be begging, don’t you think, sweetheart?” He hisses, closing the distance between you in a moment.

Your reflexes are too slow to dodge the hand that snakes out to grab you by the hair, the other gripping your upper arm painfully.  

Letting out a sharp cry as he twists his fingers and yanks your hair, he shoves you back into the brick wall that cuts off all hope of escape.

“I don’t know how you managed it, but killing Hyun was a mistake.  Now you’ve got me in a predicament.” he whispers as he presses his lips to your ear.

Your scalp protests as he tugs your hair, then he loosens his hold to pet you.

You close your eyes as if it’s going to help you in any way, trying to deny the reality of your circumstances.

His hot breath dampens the side of your face as he continues, “No, now I just want to tear you apart for the audacity.  And running from me?”

His laugh is filled with spite, drawing away to glare at you.  

You can’t even swallow as he finally lets go of your hair, his palm slipping down to cup your cheek gently before grabbing your face and squeezing hard enough to make tears spring into your eyes.

“I’ll find a way to pay you back-” You manage through the fear, but this only seems to amuse him.

“And here I thought you were at least mildly clever. It’s not about the money, sweetheart. I’ll make more off of you than any measly ‘payment’ you could ever make.”

He leans in, eyes flitting back and forth between yours as your noses almost touch.  

You attempt to struggle, but his hand is like a vice on your arm, despite twisting to get out of his grip.  

At this, his amused face contorts into a look of pure rage, his scar stretching and only making him appear even more monstrous.

He finally releases your face, but the momentary relief is only eclipsed by panic as his large hand settles over your throat, squeezing tightly.

“Though, you’re quickly trying me, and I may chalk you up to a net loss.”  

The loud din of the distant crowds fade with the ringing in your head as he lifts you enough so you’re barely able to feel your toes scraping the jagged pavement, his fingers tightening as he watches your reaction.

You grab his wrist with both hands, attempting to pry him off you, but it’s wasted effort and he laughs without any humor.  

“How in the world did a weakling like you manage to overtake Hyun? I’ll make a deal with you, sweetheart.” He snarls, loosening his grip to allow your airway to open up again.

Sucking in a deep breath, your throat burns with the effort, causing you to cough uncontrollably.

“Why don’t you tell me how you got out and overpowered him and maybe I’ll go easy on you, huh?”

Hopelessness overcomes you, thoughts of what brought you leave momentarily flashing through your mind.

Your stomach twists as you think about the what ifs.

If only you hadn’t left without thinking.

If only you hadn’t done something to make Hoseok leave like that.

At least I had a moment of happiness, you think before you abruptly bring your knee up between Jugeum’s legs.

The kick is weak, as you knew it would be, yet you are tired of begging and pleading to this horrible man.

“Bitch-” he growls, but he’s cut off as you gather all the moisture you can in your mouth to spit right in his face.

The sudden shock on his face would make you laugh if his hand didn’t immediately squeeze around your throat once more, tight enough this time to cause bright light to play at the edges of your vision.

Your hands claw at his arm, feet kicking wildly as he hoists you up by your neck and you resign yourself to meeting your end here in this disgusting place.

“Tell me, slut, or you’re fucking dead-” he hisses as you struggle against him.

But his words are cut off abruptly as a deep, harsh voice answers.

A voice you thought you’d never hear again.

“It was me, asshole.”

Your heart leaps in your chest even as you barely make out Jugeum’s throat opening, a sudden hot spray of fluid spurting all over you.

You fall to the ground heavily, wheezing and gasping for air as your sight is filled with red, your eyes watering at the sting of what appears to be blood.

A strangled cry draws your attention as you wipe at your face, trying to understand what just happened.

Coughing and clutching your throat, you watch in surprise as Hoseok straddles Jugeum, his knife rising and falling in a fury as he hacks at him.

“Hoseok-?” You try to say, but it only comes out as a weak whisper.

He doesn’t appear to have heard you, and you drag yourself to your knees, then try to stand but your head spins at the effort.

Over and over you watch as he stabs Jugeum, blood flinging from his knife each time he raises it up just to bring it back down.  

You slowly crawl over to him, unconcerned now with your assaulter, and only wondering how the fuck Hoseok found you.

But that thought is quickly overridden by the sheer joy.

He found you; he came for you.

“I think…” you rasp out, coughing as you finally drag even more air into your lungs.  

“I think he’s dead-” you finally manage, reaching out to touch Hoseok’s arm.

The look of pure rage as he turns towards you mid swing, his knife dripping with gore has you reeling backwards, falling on your ass painfully and raising your hands up instinctively.

The sight of you seems to snap him out of it, his eyes wild as he stares at you for a long moment.

A low whine leaves his throat as he looks you over, his lips drawing back over his teeth as he turns back to hack at the unmoving body beneath him.

You can only watch him as he begins to eviscerate the corpse, sickening wet tearing noises filling your ears as he spits out curses and unintelligible words before finally dropping the knife and leaning back to catch his breath.

He tilts his head back, his throat working as he looks up into the night sky above and you can’t help but admire his profile.

You’re reminded of the first night you met, but this is so much different.

He was so calm and collected, but this…

He turns his crazed eyes back to you, chest heaving with each gulping breath.

Without a word he pushes to his feet and stumbles over to you, pulling you up and trying to smooth back your blood soaked hair.

Your lip trembles at the simple gesture, tears stinging your eyes in a way the viscous blood hadn’t.

No words are spoken as he pulls you out of the place you thought would be your end, dragging you along to a bike parked nearby.

You barely register the sight of another body at the opening of the alley as he ushers you by.

I guess he never made that call.

He seats you in front of him before starting it up, allowing you to lean back against him as his arms cage you in.  

The ride back goes by in a flash, your eyes closed as you process your shock.

Everything has happened so quickly and you are struggling to make sense of anything that’s taken place in such a short period of time.

You’re unsure how much time has gone by when he’s slowing and pulling up to a deserted part of the city, parking the bike beneath a small copse of trees.

Hoseok doesn’t even look at you as he grabs your arm once more, opening a hidden door and rushing you inside.

You barely remember coming out this way, and you realize he’s taking you back home.

Home.

The thought has you hiccuping in a confusion of emotions and he is silent as he guides you down multiple sets of stairs, not even looking at you as you finally approach the doors that you’d spent so much time trying to leave through.

You can only stare at him as he punches in a code to a hidden panel beside the door, then he’s dragging you along into the common area, then right into the bathroom.

“Hoseok-” you whisper, confusion warring with uneasiness at his silence as he rushes to turn on the water.  

Now that you've stopped moving, you can feel how the hand on your arm is trembling; you can see how tight his jaw is as he finally turns to gaze at you with huge, dark eyes.

Without a word, he pulls you both underneath the shower, soaking you both as he finally releases your arm.

But instead of stepping away, he grabs the nearby soap, then he’s scrubbing your exposed skin frantically and you wonder if he’s about to peel your skin off to cleanse you of the blood.

“I have to get him off you-” he’s repeating over and over as the water beneath you turns red and pink before draining away.  

Recognizing the signs of his panic, you step closer and cup his face, gently trying to draw his gaze.

That’s fear, you register in surprise.

Not something you’d ever have attributed to this man.

Fear for you.

“Look at me.” You say softly, dipping your head until he finally locks eyes with yours.

The spatters of blood on his face are finally running off, tendrils of hair clinging to his forehead as he finally halts his movements.  

“He fucking touched you, he’s all fucking over you and I need to get him off-” the words are harsh, his voice almost a growl but his eyes look pained as you shake your head at him.

“It’s okay, I’m okay.” you murmur, pushing back his damp hair to help soothe him.

He bares his teeth as he spots your throat, dropping the soap as he reaches up to tilt your head and study the marks left behind.

“I’ll fucking kill him all over again.” he threatens, and you can’t help but feel your heart melt at his concern.

You try to suppress the urge to laugh at his words, but then he’s glaring at the once pretty green dress that is now pretty much ruined.

“Why did you leave?” He whispers, so low that you barely catch it.

He finally drags his eyes from your dress, to look at you expectantly as the water sluices over both of you.

Swallowing down the memory of why you left, you can only counter with a question of your own.

“Why did you?”  

Though he winces as if you’ve slapped him, he nods at you as he settles his fingers over the marks on your neck.  

“Any reason I give you won’t matter, even if I had one.  I don’t honestly know.” He answers, his dark eyes flitting from your face, to your neck, then to the dress.  

Before you can rethink it, you drop your hands from soothing him to grab the hem of the dress, yanking it over your head and discarding it to the side.

Though he seems startled at your actions, he physically relaxes once it’s no longer touching you.

“I left because I thought you wanted me gone.” You finally tell him, glancing at the cut on your palm as you raise your hand to cup his cheek once more.

His eyes flutter shut at your touch, droplets clinging to the dark lashes as he leans into it.

It feels surreal, standing under a shower half clothed with a murderer, yet feeling nothing but soft and safe as he wraps his arms around you.

“I don’t want you gone. I don’t want anyone to touch you. I’ll fucking kill anyone who does and I’ll kill you if you leave.” 

His voice is coarse, harsh but the only emotions that well up within you are pleasure and satisfaction at his admission.

A deep, resounding sense of contentment fills you as your fingers entwine into his wet hair.

“That’s all I want to hear.” you confess, all of your earlier confusion and pain evaporating in that one statement.

Before he can say anything else, you twist your hand in his locks and yank him closer, crushing your mouth to his.

Immediately, his hands are everywhere, mouth parting to slip his tongue along the seam of your lips.

Your head spins as you begin to tug on his soaked clothing, needing to feel more of him against you.  

He swallows all of the desperate noises you can’t stop making as he shrugs off his jacket, then parts from you only long enough to yank his shirt over his head and throw it to the side.

You can’t help but gasp at the sight of his dilated pupils; the sight of his lean, naked chest before he’s tugging you back into his arms has you needing to see more, touch more.

You barely notice him tearing off your bra as you pull at the button of his pants, unzipping and pushing them down as his hands slip down the back of your panties.

You swear your heart is beating between your legs as he grabs two handfuls of your ass and hoists you up against him, his erection seeming to throb in sync against you.

Your encounter before was hot and heavy, escalating quickly and this is much the same.

Except this time there was no uncertainty, no hesitation as he kicks off his remaining clothing and rips off your flimsy panties with a forceful tug.  

He lets out a low moan as everything separating you is finally gone, his hands trailing from your ass up to your hips, then skimming along your sides.

He slowly starts backing you up, his mouth never letting up as he blindly grabs for a towel.

Hastily, you dry each other, clumsily stumbling out into the common area still dripping with water.  

Uncaring, your nails dig into his shoulders, then rake them down his back as he pushes you into the nearest wall.

His groan has you clenching already as he grabs a handful of your hair.

“I don’t make idle threats.” He growls into your ear before dipping his head down to nuzzle his nose against your neck.

“I know-” you gasp, snaking your leg around his and tilting your hips in a desperate effort to alleviate your growing need for him.

“I’ll eviscerate anyone who fucking dares-” 

His breath is hot on your neck, the sensation of his tongue and teeth causing you to whine weakly as he sucks harshly at your skin. 

“I know.” you repeat as he slips one of his hands up to cup your breast, his thumb flicking over the already taut nipple.  

“Mine.” he snarls as he pulls you from the wall, hauling you up against him only to turn and toss you onto the couch.

You let out a small gasp at the action, and he’s immediately covering you, his knees forcing your thighs apart as he grabs your wrists to yank them over your head.

Your entire body trembles in desire as he hovers over you, his hungry eyes devouring you as he ogles you openly.  

“Say it.” He demands, ignoring how you’re lifting your hips and wriggling beneath him.

“Yours, I’m yours, please-” You cry out in anguish, knowing if he doesn’t touch you, if he’s not inside of you right fucking now you might just die.

His smile has your abdomen clenching painfully, the ravenous look in his eyes driving you mad with lust.  

Before you can cry out another plea, he’s skimming his fingertips down your raised arms, leaning down to press his mouth against yours before he’s making his way down your naked body with his lips.  

You keep your arms over your head as he drags his tongue between your breasts, trying your best to watch him leave marks with each nip and suck.

“I’ve murdered countless people.” he tells you, even as his lips brush over your sensitive nipple.

Moaning softly, you can only nod in response as he grins before making his way to do the same to the other.

“You know exactly what I am.” He hums, his eyes on you as his tongue rolls around the stiffened bud.  

You nod again, arching your back as his lips lock around your nipple, sucking harshly.

“I’m a monster, but I’m not cruel…” he says once your tit pops out of his mouth, licking his lips as he eyes you, “If you want me to stop at any-” 

“I don’t fucking care what you want to do to me, do it.  Fucking do it.” Your voice is hoarse, your entire body vibrating with need.

He raises an eyebrow at you, eyes darkening as he tilts his head at you.

“Dangerous words, little bird.”

You don’t know where or when he managed to get a hold of it, but he produces a small knife, teasing it along the line of your collarbone, then along the line of your neck.

Thoughts of how he reacted to your blood previously fill your mind, and you can’t help but lean up into the blade as he presses it to your skin.

He hisses softly as it pierces enough to draw a drop of blood, and you can feel the wet heat of it start to trickle down your throat.

“You’re fucking killing me,” he groans as you reach between his legs to wrap your fingers around his cock.

“I’m yours, Hoseok-” you say, slowly sitting up and he draws the knife back, your fingers tightening around his erection.

You push him backwards into a sitting position, tossing your leg over his thighs so you’re straddling him.

“-but you’re mine as well.” You whisper as you settle into his lap, your hand pumping at him as his head drops back against the couch.  

Gripping his shoulder, you watch as his eyes are drawn to the rivulet of blood as it cuts a path down between your tits.

A deep primal noise escapes his throat at the sight, his eyes rolling as you stroke him.  

You reach for the hand holding the knife, bringing it up to your throat as you guide the head of his cock against your cunt.  

Your entire body shudders as you drag the tip along your slit, crying out softly as you tease it against your clit.  

His free hand grips your hip, his eyes unable to find a target to focus on as he struggles to look at everything all at once.

Unable to wait another moment, you finally guide him into you, crying out in pleasure as you sink down onto him.  

He sucks in a harsh breath as he stretches you, his pupils blown out, lips parted as you finally seat yourself fully on him.

“Fuck, oh fuck-” He groans, his grip loosening on the knife as he lets it drop, sitting up and burying his face into the now freely flowing crimson running down your body.  

You wrap your arms around his head, twisting your fingers into the tangle of his still damp hair as you start riding him.

His fingers dig into your hips, pulling you down onto him every time you lift yourself back up.

The drag of his cock along your insides is enough to have you already moaning loudly, the friction of your bodies meeting teasing at your clit as you cling to one another.

The room fills with the noises of your joining, his low deep moans blending with your frantic whines and cries.

Yanking back on his hair, your head swims at the sight of his blood stained face and the wild, manic look in his eyes.

The world upends as he flips you both, yanking your arms back up over your head as he starts pounding into you.

“Hoseok!” You scream out, each bruising thrust edging you closer to losing control until your orgasm tears through you with such power, that your entire body is lifting off the couch.

Unintelligible curses drip from his lips as you clamp tightly around him, his own body starting to shake at the intensity of your climax.  

His hips begin to stutter as your cunt clenches around him, pulling out of you quickly and covering your body with spurts of cum.  

His hand still pins you down, his other wrapped around his dick as he milks himself of every drop before slipping back inside of you.  

Your eyes roll back in your head as he collapses on top of you, burying himself to the hilt deep within you as he tries to catch his breath.

He finally releases your wrists, allowing you to wrap them around him.

You let out soft little whines as he lazily rolls his hips, the overstimulation causing you to wriggle and gasp.

“I’m always making a mess…” you finally manage, combing your fingers through the tangle of his hair. 

He hums as he lifts his head groggily, eyes hooded as he gives you a gentle smile.  

“I like your mess.” he hums, tipping his head to rest his bloodied cheek on your now sticky chest.

Your eyes close as you bask in the moment, the realization that you aren’t alone anymore really starting to sink in.

Moments drift by as you relish the feel of him against you, within you, and you may have even drifted off to sleep before he’s softening and pulling out of you.

You let out a sad little whine at the loss, but then he’s hoisting you up off the couch by your arms, guiding you back into the bathroom.

“Let’s clean ourselves first.” He says, and this time you both wash one another slowly, deliberately, taking your time.

Of course, the moment your hand cups his balls and you begin to soap up his dick, he’s quickly stiffening and turning you around to bury himself within you once again.

Hands pressed to the wall, it’s hard and fast, but this time when he finally comes, he buries himself deep to fill you instead of pulling out.

He rests his forehead on your neck as he pants, littering kisses along your shoulder before turning you back around to kiss you deeply.

You sway in his arms, the exhaustion from the night finally starting to win.

Silently, he turns off the shower and leads you out to dry you off, taking his time on each part of you.  

It’s almost humorous how he can go from psychotic killer with a knife to this calm, sweet man who is looking up at you almost in worship as he towels your legs.  

A smile creeps over his face as his gaze locks onto your parted thighs, and you can feel the warmth of his cum seeping out of you.  

He bites his lip as he raises his hand, two of his fingers pushing the mess back up into you as you gasp.  

“Fuck, you’re insatiable,” you whimper as you notice him getting hard once more.

You barely remember falling asleep by the time you’re wrapped around each other in bed, but you do briefly smile at the thought of him finally being able to reclaim his bedroom before sleep overtakes you.

“I’m aware, Yoongi.  Did you talk to Jin?”

Hoseok’s voice rouses you, his tense tone cutting through the haze of your deep sleep.

The ache from various parts of your body throb delightfully, and you can’t help but smile into the pillow as you roll over to stretch yourself awake.

The partially opened door allows you to watch Hoseok pace back and forth, and you can’t help but recall the previous night's activities.

Curling up on your side, you find yourself catching snippets of his conversation as you admire him.  

He’s dressed already, you pout to yourself, yet even clad in the tshirt and jeans, he’s striking.

“It’s not as if I- …it’s complicated, alright? …Yeah, I’ll see you in a bit and we’ll talk.” 

His eyes meet yours through the open doorway as he says his goodbyes before hanging up.  

“You’re awake.” He observes, his solemn look brightening into a full, gorgeous smile.

The sight of him beaming at you flips your stomach and you have to grip the sheets to stop yourself from springing out of bed and tackling him all over again.

You just nod at him, chewing the inside of your mouth as you squeeze your thighs together.

“Hold on.” He says, turning and walking out of your field of view before returning to come sit on the side of the bed next to you.

He’s holding a small box, and you recognize the first aid kit as he opens it.  

“I’m alright,” you whisper as he takes out a tube of something, but his smile turns into a scolding look that has you quieting down quickly.  

“Infection kills more frequently than even I do.” He tells you, applying some to his finger before leaning in to dab it on the various cuts on your neck.  

You can’t help but laugh at this, drawing his grin back out, much to your delight.

A comfortable silence fills the room as he tends to you, allowing you to just study him before returning the favor.

As you finish making sure he doesn’t have any untreated wounds, he takes the medicine from your hands to place to the side before pulling you into his arms.

He places a kiss on your forehead, then your lips as you melt into his embrace.

Your heart threatens to tear its way out of your throat as he finally parts from you, petting your hair gently as he gazes into your eyes.

“As much as I’d enjoy a repeat of last night, I think it’s best that we should both recover some energy before that.” He tells you, the rasp in his voice giving away that he’s just as affected as you are right now.

Taking in a deep breath, you just nod in agreement before kissing his cheek.  

“As much as I want to argue…” You murmur, slowly letting out the breath and his smile lights up the room once more.

He pulls away and stands, allowing you to get up and go rummage for clothing.  

His harsh cough is a shallow attempt at covering his reaction to your naked body, and you can’t help but grin as he turns away while you pull on a top and some pants.

“Hoseok, I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation…is everything alright?” You ask him tentatively.

He turns to look at you, his smile fading a bit as he seems to mull over how to answer.

“It’s alright if you don’t want to-” you begin, but he shakes his head to stop you.

“Come out and let’s eat something…and I’ll try to tell you what I can.” 

He heads towards the kitchen, and you take a moment to follow, pondering what you’re going to learn.

You manage to push him away from the fridge as he rummages, directing him to sit down.

“I owe you a meal.” you tell him, remembering the previous kitchen encounter.

His lips twitch at the memory and he merely nods, placing his elbows on the counter as he leans forward to watch.

You don’t rush him as the silence stretches, allowing him time to collect his thoughts.  

Finally he starts to talk.

“I’m going to assume that from what you’ve seen of my comings and goings…and how you first saw me…that you know what I’m capable of. I’m violent, brutal.  I’m a murderer.”

He pauses as he studies your face, but merely nod as you continue to prep food.

“Your reaction to that both intrigues and terrifies me.” He states, causing you to stop what you’re doing.

“Why would that terrify you?” You ask him, genuinely curious.

He purses his lips, looking away momentarily as his leg bounces.

“Because I’ve come to … care about you.  It doesn’t make sense how you’ve gone through all that bullshit yet here you are, cooking me food and looking at me like…that.” he states, turning back to gesture towards you.

His admission has your heart stuttering, and heat rushes to your cheeks as you try not to grin like an idiot.  

“Like what?” you ask, voice cracking as you push down your emotions.

He gives you a look, and all you can do is shrug.  

“Look…people like us…like me, we don’t love, care, or trust easily.  I find more happiness in death than I do in this abominable world.  You…” He swallows, blowing out a breath as he shakes his head at you.

“I’m not going to use a vulgar word like ‘love’, so don’t ever expect me to.” he declares.

You find yourself pausing in your prep, not interrupting but making sure he knows you’re listening, understanding him.

He studies you before continuing,and you hang on each and every word.

“Letting someone into my life is not something I planned on.  You make me vulnerable, irrational, reckless.  I’m a murderer.” he repeats, as if to drive it home.  

“I know.” you whisper, and he sighs before running his hand over his face.

“There’s more to things…it’s not that simple-you told me before…you came here thinking that you would have a chance at a better life, to see what the city was like inside the walls.”  

His words aren’t a question, more of a statement and you just continue to nod as he speaks.

“What if I told you that what you see outside of here doesn’t even compare to the savagery that lies within the walls?” 

Your hands freeze, curiosity peaked at this announcement.

“What…what do you mean?” You ask, giving up on cooking and setting your knife to the side.  

His next words just floor you.  

“I come from inside.” 

Your heart stutters at this; for the year you’ve been here, not once have you heard anything but speculation about what was inside.  

Everyone merely said things like, “So I’ve heard,” or “Noone really knows but,” about what things were like.

Hell, no one even seemed to agree on how the walls even came into being.  

The rumors were, once you went inside, you never wanted to come back out.

Or you couldn’t.

“But…why…?” You start, your brain racing.

“We escaped.  Out here, there’s no law, there’s no one to police the vile things that go on.  We just exist and do our best to survive.  Inside…when you commit crimes, you suffer the consequences.”  

The tone of his voice drops a bit, eyes glazing as he seems to recall his past.

“I’m a murderer, yes, but in my eyes there are crimes far worse than ridding this world of the disgusting trash that gets in my way.  I’ve heard that once upon a time, this world had a balance, a form of justice.  Now we’re split in two, and both sides are appalling in their own ways.”

He halts for a moment, reaching out to slip his hand into yours.

You entwine your fingers with his, finding your way around the counter to get closer to him.

“The man who hurt you last night-” he starts, eyes flashing as he remembers how he found you.

You comb your fingers through his hair, waiting patiently for him to continue.

This was the most you’ve ever heard him speak and you weren’t going to say anything to interrupt now.

“I’m sure you’ve figured out that he’s part of a human trafficking ring.  He was one of the contacts, apparently.  Someone contacted me to tell me that his death hasn’t gone unnoticed.”

Your eyes widen, stomach twisting at the idea that you may have gotten the attention of someone even more horrid.

“I know he dealt with others, because he and his asshole goons talked about things after they took me before you found me but….” 

You shudder, remembering what could have been your fate.

Hoseok wraps his arms around you, noticing your reaction.

“The people they traffic, they end up inside.” He tells you. “Have you never noticed the lack of women, how scarce children are out here?” 

Your brain races as you recall many moments where you’d noticed that, but anytime you’d inquired, your ‘friends’ had changed the subject.

“I…when I first came here, those men-” you gesture, “the ones from last night…they took me in right away.  I thought nothing of it before, I just thought they were being kind.”

He grimaces, letting out a tense breath.

“I won’t go into details, but as I said before…there are far worse things than death.”

You shiver at the implication, your heart hurting for those who have fallen victim to this disgusting scheme.

Even in the country where you came from, the children you grew up with were almost all female.  

Of course the lack of others here caught your attention, but you hadn’t thought too much about it.  

You’d made excuses,  they were just keeping their heads down like you did, hiding away from the vile men who pawed at you at every turn.

What Hoseok is implying just turns your stomach.

“But…that doesn’t answer why you are out here.  Do you…?” you hesitate, not wanting to hear that he participates in anything so horrible.

He winces, shaking his head at your unspoken thoughts.

“No…as I stated, killing some asshole who gets in my way is one thing.  I don’t kill innocents.” 

You let out a long breath, relaxing at his admission.

“The others and I…we’re going to tear it all down.” He finally tells you.

Your heart leaps, immediately saying, “See, you are a saviour!”  

He grabs your hands to calm you, shaking his head at your misconception.

“I told you, I’m not a hero or savior, little bird.  We all find what they do vile and horrific, but I couldn’t give two fucks what happens to anyone once our plan succeeds.”  

His eyes darken and blaze simultaneously as a wicked smile creeps over his face, causing a chaos of emotions within you ranging from lust to horror.

The pure wanton sadism on his face makes you swallow in confusion, yet you’ve never been more intoxicated by someone.

“Compassion for the weak is for others to deal with.  My singular goal is to burn everything down and take as many as I can with me.”

Deep within the city, walls protecting the inhabitants from the chaos of the outside world, a tall man leans back in his chair as he taps the communication device in his ear.

He slips it off, opening a hidden drawer deep underneath the desk to hide it away.

“Was that Yoongi?” a voice draws his attention.  

Seokjin is staring at him from the window, drink in hand before turning to gaze back at the city down below.

“Mmm.” Namjoon answers, standing to join him.

“And?” Seokjin asks, not taking his eyes off the ordered roads as elites travel from party to party, unconcerned about what their extravagance costs others.

“And the plan may be moving along quicker than we anticipated.”

Namjoon’s voice is even, yet even Jin can sense the excitement beneath.

Hell, all of them have been longing for this.

Long before the others had escaped the confines of this elaborately lavish prison, they’d all shared the same vision.

That this entire world would burn brightly as they held the spark that started it all.

The wick had been lit by seven of them long ago, and the anticipation as it crept closer to the climax was almost too much to bear.

“Soon.” Jin murmurs as his lips curl into a malicious sneer. 

[joonslfttiddie]

C H A P T E R — T W O

Summary: As the days lead up to the infamous dinner for the courting season, Akira becomes overwhelmed with all the sudden changes. Secrets are revealed and relationships are formed, but is it all for Akira’s benefit?

Warnings: strong language, breeding kink, heavy smut, strong violence, angst, parallel polyandry relationships, omegaverse, a/b/o, slow burn, trauma/healing themes, abusive family.

WC: 8,966

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“Akira, can I talk to you for a moment?”

I was in the middle of packing my books away when my mother entered my room. I never really saw my mother before, like really see her. She didn’t look like she aged much, even with the few streaks of gray in her curls. We were nearly built the same but still, she was slimmer than me. And her caramel complexed skin seemed a few shades lighter than my own.

“Did you need me to do something for you, mama?” I stopped what I was doing and straightened my posture. She just shook her head, closed the door behind her and walked over to me. I moved the cardboard box I was placing my books in, to the top of my bed and sat down. When by my mother sat down, I could see the tiredness in her eyes. I could see the worry and the concern. I had no idea what was troubling her, but like always, I knew it had something to do with me,

“Akira…baby, I know your life hasn’t been an easy one.” I looked down at my shirt and started playing with the hem. I hate awkward conversations like this. I don’t like getting into the details of my childhood, much of which I’m thankful I blocked out. “Last night’s celebration dinner shouldn’t have happened. We should’ve fully celebrated you finding your pack too.”

“It’s fine mama, I’m used to it.” I shrugged, getting up quickly to grab more books when I saw that she was about to reach for me.

“It’s not fine, Akira. Your brother tells me that the leader believes his pack are your mates? That’s a higher rarity.” I looked up from my books when I saw how interested my mother looked. I squinted,

“I seem to hear that a lot lately. I’m a “rarity”. It’s rare for a full human to be born in a family of wolves; it’s rare for me to have mates, let alone seven of them—I’m really confused and really tired of hearing it.” I usually never get upset with my mother but the word ‘rarity’ suddenly became triggering. I felt like I didn’t belong, like I was the family pet or an unwanted guest. Being rare in something that should be normal didn’t make me feel special.

“I wasn’t trying to upset you, Akira. I just meant that knowing that your pack is filled with your partners and not just strangers is rare. It changes things now.” My mother tried to explain. I frowned, still confused,

“How?”

I watched my mother sigh as she tried to think of a way to explain things, “In our world, when wolves find their true mate, be it an alpha with another alpha or an alpha and omega—even omega and omega—they have to go through the courting process. Betas do too but because we don’t really have mates, it feels more like…human dating than it is with wolves.” I know that she’s trying to explain, but once again my mother lost me.

“I’m still confused, mama.” I started my packing again, making sure the last of my books were secured before moving on to my clothes. Opening the closet; I looked at the limited amount I had in the small storage space. I truly didn’t own much.

“The process starts out similar: during courting, you have to get to know each other. Then there’s the meeting of the familial packs, followed by a crossover ceremony—.”

“A crossover ceremony?” I interrupted, “Where exactly do you crossover to?”

My mother giggled, “It’s a ceremony when the familial alpha transfers the responsibility of taking care of their pup over to the new pack leader. You become part of the new leader’s pack.”

“Like a wedding ceremony.” I figured that’s why it was so similar. It’s exactly like a wedding.

“Yes, similar to that. Only when involving mates, the difference is you have to meet with the family. You have seven mates, my love, that’s more than what’s required.” She laughed again, “With betas, it’s more like a human ritual, an actual wedding, to make it more special because our wolf is neutral. It does not need to seek a mate, it simply just wants to have one, it’s not as instinctual like it is with alphas and omegas. If it were just a regular crossing over, like with Justine and Theo, who aren’t mates, it would be like a regular wedding type of ceremony.”

“But…I don’t feel anything that they do.” I shrugged, throwing my folded clothes into another box. I wouldn’t really be leaving until the courting process, I guess, was done. Whatever that may look like for me, “I don’t feel anything werewolves feel.” I walked back over to my closet to grab more folded clothes, “Why are we talking about this? Are you saying you have to marry me off in order to have me move in with a new pack?”

“In a way…yes. Truthfully, I didn’t think I’d be having this talk with you.”

“Neither did I.” I agreed. I kind of thought I’d be at home taking care of my parents but I guess they had other plans. “I don’t think I even pictured my life with anyone.”

“Akira…” my mother frowned as I placed more clothes away, clothes I knew I wouldn't be wearing for a while, “I promise I didn’t mean it in a negative way, it’s just…there’s certain things that you have to know and do—.”

“Oh god, please tell me you’re not telling me I have to sleep with them, too.” I froze, scared that this is what this conversation was really about. My mother shook her head,

“No, and I’m so sorry about what your father said. You do not have to immediately sleep with them, or ever, the point I’m trying to make is that courting is a little different than just dating. It leads to a sort of marriage. If you were an omega, alphas would gift you things that omegas need: soft blankets or clothing to feel warm, things with their scent so that you’d feel safe, things you’d need for a nest. For alphas, they just want a true alpha to take charge, to know where their place is in a hierarchy. It takes the pressure off of them.”

“And for betas?” I questioned, curious.

“Well, for me and other betas, we liked being considered. Betas' role in society is to mediate. Our job is kind of like we’re second in charge; we temper alphas when they get too out of control. But we like knowing that our words are heard. That everything we say and the reasons behind it are taken into consideration.” I looked away. I find it funny that her job is to temper my father, and yet that isn’t at all what’s been happening. I could feel her eyes on me, “…I know your father’s temper isn’t great,” she spoke quietly. I covered my bruise as her eyes lingered on my arm, “but he still loves you.”

“Please,” I nearly snapped, rolling my eyes to myself, “don’t lie to me. Joseph hates me and you trying to sugarcoat it isn’t helping anything.” I scoffed, finding a stopping point in my packing. I would have to start lunch soon since my large family likes to come over for every meal.

“It’s the truth Akira, your father does love you.” My mother stood, reaching out to touch me. I didn’t even think about it when I flinched away, expecting her to grab me harshly too. That seems to be this family’s go-to.

“He doesn’t love me, he tolerates me. I know the truth now and I’m learning to live with it. Once this courting thing is done for Naomi, I will leave. You shouldn’t have come here, I don’t need a ceremony, I don’t want it! I don’t need a pity party because you suddenly feel guilty, just—.” I stopped spouting, trying to calm my nerves. “You don’t have to lie anymore. Whatever his reasons, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Akira, you couldn’t be more wrong. Your father does love you and no, he doesn’t show it, but he won’t deny it—.”

“He told me if it were up to him he would’ve left me in the woods years ago! That you begged him to keep me!” I was fed up with my mother’s blind trust in this man. He was no longer my father and if she keeps it up, she would no longer be my mother, “Stop apologizing for him! Stop lying to me and most of all, stop lying to yourself because we both know if I had presented, none of what I’ve been through would’ve happened!” I moved past my mother and left my room. I started feeling guilty for having this fight with my mother, but I also didn’t want to apologize for finally saying what I felt. I have been holding in my feelings for so long, to finally express them felt relieving. I don’t know if I could ever go back to hiding it anymore.

“Would you like some help today, Akira?”

I stopped peeling my potatoes to see Naomi standing in the open archway of the kitchen. I looked at her confused as to why she suddenly wanted to help me. I watched as she walked further, snatching an extra apron off the hook on the pantry door and tied it around her. I felt like I was stuck for a moment. Frozen in place over how she quickly grabbed a potato and a peeler, then got to work, “…Naomi, what are you doing?”

“I’m helping, what does it look like little sister?” Naomi laughed, peeling carefully. I stared at the sink for a moment before putting my potato down,

“Why are you helping me? Don’t you usually keep to yourself?” What is it with my family all of a sudden? One is trying to tell me about wolf traditions, another is trying to help me cook—I’m starting to think I’m in the twilight zone.

“I just want to help, don’t make a big deal out of it.” Naomi shrugged, placing her peeled potato into the bowl of water before moving onto the next one. I looked at her for a moment longer before going back to prepping lunch in silence. Making such large batches of food was common in my family. Everyone on the compound came to eat, it was a tradition my grandmother started and it just stayed that way. With my aunts and uncles and their children and grandchildren, it can get pretty rowdy, but nothing I wasn’t used to. Once prepping was done, I was now getting anxious with the silence between Naomi and I. This was out of the norm for us and usually, cooking was my only alone time, my time where I felt safe. “Naomi, please, why are you helping me? It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, it’s just…weird.”

“Fine. I felt bad about what happened at the summit.” She stared at my arm for a moment, probably noticing the bruise. It finally stopped hurting this morning, thankfully. “Yesterday, I should’ve noticed your fidgeting, but Jackson and I were talking more and more and I just—.”

“It’s fine Naomi.” I shook my head, checking over the pork chops we were having today, “You seemed to be hitting it off with Jackson, my thing with father shouldn’t interfere with that.”

“How do you do that?” She asked me quietly. I furrowed my brow,

“Do what?”

“Shrug every grievance off like it’s nothing; look at your arm. It’s the nastiest bruise I’ve ever seen. And that thing at dinner last night, he’s putting something that happened to grandpa onto you and you just take it.”

I sighed, stopping my stirring of the gravy on the stove to get my anger in check. Then I replied, “What exactly am I supposed to do, Naomi? He’s stronger than me. He’s bigger than me. If he really wanted to—and let’s face it, he probably does—he could kill me by snapping my neck in half. You’re telling me to stand up against him, against everyone who is like him in our family like I have a choice, I don’t! I represent everything he hates! I represent the very thing that took his father away from him, that man will never love me like he loves his other children and that’s the bottom line of it!” Naomi stared at me like I had three heads. Maybe because she didn’t expect me to get angry, maybe it’s because I refuse to fight him, but I have three months of this left. Once the ceremony for Jackson and Naomi is over, I have to start my life over with the Kim-Bangtan pack, and I’m actually not scared about it anymore.

“Once I found out the truth, accepting my fate just seemed…easier.” I went back to stirring the gravy, “Joseph Baptiste doesn’t love me and he wants me gone just as much as everyone else does.” I felt my face become warm and my eyes start to burn, “Over the years, I thought that that was just his way, that he wasn’t an affectionate man. But it wasn’t until recently, right after you spoke to me in my room, before the summit, that I started remembering everything I blocked out.” I looked over at Naomi, barely making out her face due my eyes watering. Naomi had this look on her face, I couldn’t tell if it was disgust or concern or sadness, “You were right, we didn’t celebrate my birthday as much. Then we just completely stopped altogether. Christmases, I was lucky if anyone remembered me, usually it was grandmother, while all of you got mountains of presents. Halloween, everyone got costumes they wanted while suddenly there was no time left to buy mine so I had to use hand-me-downs. Eventually, I just stopped asking, I stopped going with you. There were no sweet memories like baking with mama or going fishing with Joseph. You all have those, I don’t. You didn’t cry yourself to sleep, I did. You didn’t get whoopings when you did anything wrong, I did.

“I never rocked the boat. When everyone joined team sports or activities in school, I never asked to join because I didn’t want him or mama to have to spend even more money on me. I didn’t even fight back when he decided to take me out of school my junior year of high school, I just accepted it. I learned to..block it out.” I chuckled, stepping back from the stove as tears fell down my face, “I taught myself to be quiet. To do what was needed to not make anyone upset because it was easier. To be numb was just easier.” I wiped my face and closed my eyes as I tried to control my breathing, “I kept telling myself that if I just did what he wanted me to do—clean, cook, stay quiet, don’t bother him, whatever…it’ll be easier. I could survive it. It’s like I never existed as part of this family, and that’s the way he wanted it until now.” It surprised me to see tears stream down Naomi’s face. “You told me once how you didn’t like that the attention was on you. I don’t know what that feels like at all.” I shrugged. The saddest chuckle I could give slipped past my lips. I walked over to the counter near the kitchen sink and grabbed a paper towel to wipe my face.

The wind was knocked out of me as the feeling of two strong arms wrapped around my waist. My heart rate sped up, thinking I was in trouble when I heard a whimper, “I’m so sorry, Akira. I’m sorry I never did anything to stop it.” I never heard Naomi cry, ever, and it was unsettling. If anything, it made me even more nervous, “Your heart is beating so fast are you…are you scared of me too?” She seemed hurt? It wasn’t an emotion I would easily associate with Naomi, hell yeah I was scared.

“If I’m being honest, I’ve been scared of all of you ever since we learned I wouldn’t be a werewolf, and it’s the first time you’ve hugged me, ever, please let go of me.” I was shaking at this point. Feeling as though she could probably snap my spine in half if she squeezed too tight. Naomi let go of me and I let out a shaken breath.

“That’s fair, I don’t blame you for how you feel.” Naomi wiped her face, “If I was in your position, I’d be scared too. You endured so much over the years, I’m surprised you lasted as long as you did.”

“I almost didn’t…” Naomi’s eyes widened. I wasn’t going to tell anyone about my suicide attempt but for some reason, I wanted to tell Naomi. I think I wanted to trust her. “When I was sixteen…Joseph took me out of school. It was the only place I felt comfortable. You didn’t talk to me then. I guess you and Braxton didn’t want people to know I was your sister, and that was fine, I made friends with humans like me.” I shrugged, picking at the paper towel, “It wasn’t like I was doing poorly, I made really good grades, good enough to skip to senior level if I wanted, but I guess after a month or so of school left, when he found out that Keith Jackson planned to ask me out after he kissed me one day during P.E., he pulled me out of school. Til this day, I still don’t know how he found out, but we argued as soon as we got home. I don’t remember much of that day but what I do remember was him grabbing his belt and whipping so hard that you could hear the belt before it connected. I remember being grabbed by the back of my neck so hard it bruised. He didn’t care when mama told him to stop, he wanted to make an example out of me. So I just laid there on the living room floor and went somewhere else in my mind until it was over.”

“We were told you got in trouble at school, we didn’t know that was the reason…Fuck Akira, you couldn’t leave your room for a week, you were so bruised.” Naomi gasped.

“I tried slitting my wrists later that night but couldn’t go through with it so I found pills in mama’s medicine cabinet. I knew it was strong enough to put me to sleep but I ended up not taking enough.” I sighed, regretting not finishing the whole bottle, “God, 7 pills was just not enough.”

“Do you..do you still think about it?” Naomi questioned me. I looked her dead in the eyes, unmoving,

“What do you think, Naomi?”

“Lunch was delicious Akira, thank you! I think the kids even wanted thirds!”

I smiled as my Aunt Regina handed me her empty plate. “I can’t take all the credit, Naomi helped.” Everyone’s eyes shot to Naomi who felt very on the spot. I bit my lip, shrugging.

“I uh..I figured I needed more practice in the kitchen seeing as how I’ll have seven mouths to feed now that I’ll be joining a new pack. I wanted to see how Akira managed it all by herself.” Everyone seemed pleased with the answer but my father was unfazed. He wiped his mouth then held out his plate for me to grab. I sighed, then grabbed his plate. Naomi got up and started helping me clear the dishes, “Oh, Naomi you don’t have to get that, I’ll clean up everything.”

“I want to.” Naomi smiled, “I wanna help.” After gathering all the dishes, we headed to the kitchen. The children at the smaller dining table were making a mess, but nothing that was too big to clean up. I sat the dishes in the sink before heading over to the table, grabbing the littlest of the children out of his high chair. I placed him on my hip then told the children to finish up so I could clean up. Naomi just pretty much watched me the whole time, watching me take care of our cousin Nikki’s son, Jayden, “Did this little pup make a mess today? Yes you did!” I tickled him, listening to his cute laugh. I cleaned up his face and picked up the shirt I took off earlier back onto him.

“You do this every day? Clean this house, cooking all the meals, watch over the kids? Did you even eat yet?”

I shook my head ‘no’, “If I have time to, I’ll eat, if not, then I just end up binge eating. Probably the reason why I’m so big now.” I muttered the last part to myself, though I’m sure Naomi could hear me, “I get to eat after my chores are done and everyone’s left.”

“That’s really sad, Akira. How are you taking care of so much and not taking care of yourself?”

I squinted, “It’s not like I get a lot of help. You realize this is the first time you've helped me in the kitchen, ever, right?” Naomi looked away. I sighed, “Sorry. I’m just not used to you saying more than two words to me, yesterday and today kinda threw me off.” I fixed Jayden’s onesie then placed him back on my hip.

“Was I really that bad of a sister to you?” Naomi seemed genuinely curious about her behavior towards me. Over the years, she was indifferent. She didn’t seem to care either way about what I did or what happened to me. She just seemed to exist in her own world, “Was I so bad of a sister that I didn’t see your depression?”

“You weren’t bad, you were absent. You didn’t want to see, Naomi.” I snipped, clearly uncomfortable with the sudden attention she was giving me, “I don’t know what type of game you’re playing at, and I don’t care. Just please, go back to how you used to be with me, by ignoring me.”

“It's not a game, Akira, I really feel horrible about how I didn’t treat you like a big sister is supposed to.” Naomi urged, walking a few steps closer to me, “I thought about my own situation and ignored yours. Compared to yours, mine wasn’t even that bad.”

“Don’t do that.” Naomi tilted her head at me, “Don’t downplay your situation in this family by sympathizing with mine. I may not know what being a beta is like, but I do know what it feels like to have expectations forced on you.”

Naomi chuckled lightly and shook her head, “There you go again, little sister. Always thinking of others, never yourself.” I didn’t reply to that statement. I rocked Jayden, who decided to lay his head on my chest. Naomi decided to clean up the table and put the kids' dishes away. Each one of the kids hugged me and then I handed over Jayden to his older brother, Jacobi. After cleaning up the area, Naomi decided to help me with the dishes. She decided to talk more, telling me about her phone calls with Jackson and how he wants her to meet the rest of the pack soon. She asked about Namjoon, “Um, Namjoon is nice, I guess. He texts me, I guess he figured out I don’t like to talk as much.”

“He thinks you’re nervous, I can smell it on you.” Naomi motioned, taking a sniff, “Jackson said their packs grew up together, that they’ve been brother packs for a long time. He thinks Namjoon really likes you.” Naomi smiled. I blinked, the new information surprising me,

“You…You think he does?” I asked nervously. I wasn’t sure if I like Namjoon that way but I knew I felt something with him. Yesterday, at the summit, he seemed solely focused on me, even his beta, Jin, seemed more focused on me, “Mama said that his pack are my mates. I thought you’re supposed to have one mate. I thought humans couldn’t have mates.”

“It’s not black and white. Having a human mate isn’t taboo but it’s not necessarily normal or heard of. Having a human partner is a choice whereas having a mate is not. You’re biologically fated to be with them. Your pheromones are supposed to complement each other. That’s how you find your mate so really, you being mated to them is a phenomenon within itself, especially since three of them are betas. Betas don’t have mates, and the way I saw Jin react to you at the summit? Biologically, this isn’t supposed to happen.” Naomi was in deep thought by this point, I could see it on her face.

“What do you mean how he reacted?” Now I was curious myself at what she saw.

“There’s this thing that happens to alphas and omegas when they find their mate. Their wolf takes over their human mind for a brief period of time, no more than a few minutes. You notice it in the eye color; their eyes shimmer when their wolf is present. That doesn’t happen with betas, they don't have mates, and it definitely doesn’t happen with humans. It’s actually very odd that we noticed it.” I assumed the ‘we’ was my family when they spoke at the summit. Rather than make both of our brains implode, I changed the subject, “I wish I understood what the courting ritual process was like. Mama tried to explain it to me, but I don’t really understand it.”

Naomi shrugged, “From what I heard, there’s a ritual for each sub gender. It’s three months long and the heads of each familial pack meet to discuss the terms of their alliances and lay down the rules. Like if anything were to happen to us while we’re in the responsibility of our mate, the alliances would be broken. First we, as the ones being inducted into a new pack, have to honor our new pack’s familial leader by giving them a present. Then, the pack we’re being transferred to has to give us a present. It’s a sign of welcoming. If they're your mate, it’ll be something special to them to give to you since that’s their way of being vulnerable. If not, it’ll be something special, just not something of theirs, it’ll be store bought more than likely.

“Then there’s the first dinner. Each family wants to watch how you work with each other, to see if it’ll be a good match. After which the mothers or the highest ranking female of each family will start the planning process for the ceremony. While they go do that, the courting phase between the intended is like…dating for humans; you go out on dates, you spend time getting to know each other, etc.. Throughout all of this, there will be dress fittings and preparations for the grand ceremony.”

I probably looked terrified to her because Naomi just laughed, “What happens at the ceremony??”

“From what I was told, you pledge your alliance to your new pack, light the unity candle and kiss. The mating mark comes later, but that’s for betas to decide if they want the mark. For alphas and omegas, it’s instinctual, but betas have the right to choose if they want it or not since we don’t really have mates.”

“Would you get your mating mark?” I wondered, wanting to know her thoughts on it.

“Probably not. That’s something you do if you really love that person; you’re linked to them forever if you do that and while I like Jackson, I don’t know him. Three months is not a long time to know if I want that deep of a commitment.”

“But you’re practically marrying him.” I theorized, putting away the dishes in the dishwasher while Naomi scrapped the remains on lunch down the disposal, “That’s a commitment within itself.”

“But I can choose to walk away. Like I said little sister, it’s not all black and white. A mating mark symbolizes your wolf connection being made. Your emotions, your thoughts…your soul is forever linked to each other. If one of you dies, you’re forever mourning the loss.”

“Like grandmother..” I realized now how she never truly looked happy but the only time she did was when she talked about grandpa. “God, I can’t imagine living like that.”

Naomi placed the last dish in the dishwasher after rinsing it off, “Honestly, I have no clue what all of this will be like for you. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of humans with a mating mark, let alone having to go through the ritual practices with multiple mates and their families. I just know based on what mama told me her experience was.” I nodded in reply, still reeling over the fact that I have to do all of this. Still, I didn’t believe that that would be the case for me, “I don’t know. I don’t exactly see our parents shelling out money for my ceremony. If anything, I expected them to solely focus on yours and I would just maybe get sent away to Namjoon’s.”

“No.” Naomi closed the dishwasher and turned to me, “No, I will make sure that you’re included, Akira. The crossing over ceremony is a huge deal, and even though I don’t like the attention, I’m actually looking forward to it. It’s a huge honor to know someone has chosen you, and you have seven men who are very powerful in our community, they chose you. I can’t tell you if you’re really their mate or if they think you are or if it’s biological or emotional but they chose you. It should be celebrated just as any other wolf’s crossover.”

“I’m not a wolf.” I countered.

“You are now.” Naomi quipped back.

I wasn’t sure how it happened, but the discernment I felt towards Naomi was slowly dissipating. She showed me more kindness today than I’ve seen in a lifetime. And while I was still on the fence, I couldn’t ignore the fact that maybe Naomi was trying with me, and I’ll be honest, I’m glad that she is.

“What about this? This would make a great gift to give to the head of their familial pack.”

It had been a couple of weeks since the summit had taken place, and my parents already started things in motion between Jackson and Namjoon. I managed to get out of my comfort zone and actually spoke to Namjoon on the phone. I couldn’t believe how patient he was with me. I know I’m practically moving at a snail’s pace with getting to know him, but all of it was so new to me. I have no idea what to expect from him or anyone else for that matter.

“Jade is supposed to be a lucky gem in Chinese culture, maybe this hair comb for Jackson’s mother would be nice.” My mother took Naomi and I to the mall to find gifts for our first dinner with the heads of the familial packs. Well, that was the plan. It took us an hour and a half to get to that point because Naomi and mother wanted to go shopping first, “Or look at these earrings, maybe those.”

“Maybe both? I really want her to like me.” It’s unsettling to see Naomi this way. Maybe it’s because she and Jackson talked damn near everyday since the summit or maybe she’s secretly always been this person that I’m just now seeing, but whatever the case, it’s unsettling. I would rather the nonchalant, indifferent, hate-the-world Naomi than…whatever this is.

“We should really find gifts for your in-laws too, Akira. There’s seven of them you have to impress.” My mother expressed happily, moving onto other things in the store. I don’t even know the name of the place we’re in but it felt like we’ve been here for hours. “Goodness, seven mates…this has to be the most unprecedented event ever.”

“My crossing over isn’t that big of a deal. I bet there won’t even be a ceremony for me.”

Naomi scoffed, “Please. You’re the mate of one of these most important packs in the city, you’re all anyone talks about these days.” I watched my mother nod her head in agreement, “Just pay attention, haven’t you noticed the stares we’ve gotten since being here?” I frowned, suddenly looking around the store, noticing a few glances and whispers thrown my way. Had I always been this aloof to not see the gawking and murmuring happening around me?

“This is…everyone’s really s-staring..?” I nervously pulled on the strap of my crossbody purse. I felt my anxiety get the best of me—I never had so much attention on me like this, it was uncomfortable.

“Well now you’ve gone and made her nervous.” My mother tutted, shushing me though her comment was aimed at Naomi, “It’s alright, Akira. It’s nothing to feel nervous about.”

“What if I mess up with the gifts? What if their families don't like me?? What if they don’t want their sons to have a human in their pack?!”

My mother grabbed my face and shushed me, having probably heard my uptick in heartbeats seconds before I felt it. My hands felt hot and clammy. I felt dizzy and winded, like I couldn’t breathe and could faint any moment. I didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of these people. I didn’t want to embarrass anyone. “Breathe Akira, I’m sure if they had a problem with you, they would’ve called it all off days ago. They are not the people to tempt fate. If your pack feels that you are meant to be with them, then that is what will happen.”

After finding presents for everyone, my mother made us go shopping for more new clothes, insisting that I actually buy some, “Half of these stores don’t sell my size, and the ones that do are for middle aged women!”

“Will you just look and see? It doesn’t even have to be anything extremely fancy, just a nice dress, Akira.” I could tell that my mother was getting frustrated with my attitude. I sighed and nodded, complying with her. I knew I was being a brat today and I think it was more of the fact that I was tired and wanted to rest. While in the store, I came across a simple black wrap dress, nothing fancy. It had long sleeves to hide the ugly bruise that was still on my arm and I knew I had some flats to go with it, “Mama, how about this?”

“Oh that would look nice on you.” She smiled, “We just need some accessories to match.”

“Oh, ma,” I felt myself about to whine and soon tampered it down, “You don’t have to do that, I feel bad that you’re buying all of this.”

My mother tutted at me, “Nonsense, you need a first dinner dress, besides, it’s very modest, which means it’s not—oh look, there’s Namjoon!” My head whipped towards another section of the store just as Namjoon’s did, probably hearing his name. He wasn’t alone; I could see two others with him, all staring at us. The smirk on Namjoon’s face was barely noticeable as he started making his way over to us. Why did I feel so nervous?

“Good afternoon Akira. Naomi, Mrs. Baptiste, how are you?” His voice was deep, deeper than I remembered. I nearly fell back into my mother as I said hello back.

“Good afternoon, Namjoon. And who are your friends?” My mother was smiling from ear to ear, you’d think she was the one getting courted.

“These are my pack mates, this is Hoseok,” he pointed to a man similar in height with a slender build, hair long enough to touch the back of his neck and just as black as the sweater he was wearing. He was tall but not overly tall like Namjoon and had a heart shaped smile when he introduced himself to me, “Finally nice to meet you, Akira. And please, everyone calls me Hobi.” His eyes were suddenly a blown out crystal blue, obviously a beta. He reached for my free hand, the icy blue of his eyes relaxed into a soft dark brown color then, while my other hand clenched hard around the dress I found.

“Would you prefer I call you Hobi?” The slight growl I heard from him shocked me. Namjoon smiled, trying to mask his laugh. Hoseok seemed to like that I called him that so I guess I will. Faintly he smelled sweet like spied lemonade, a bergamot and mahogany scent that seemed to settle me. Reminded me of when grandmother would eat gingersnaps and drink lemonade with me on her porch.

Namjoon continued, “And this Taehyung,” The next man I met was nearly the same height as Namjoon, with black curly hair that covered his eyes, one hazel brown eye, the other green from what I could see. His sharp jawline complimented his boxy smile and he was just as muscular as Namjoon. He held out his hand, the body movement making his long dangling earring swing from his right earlobe, “Nice to finally meet you, Akira, hyung told me so many wonderful things.” His smirk made me nervous. I shook his hand, watching his eyes shimmer a vibrant red before settling once again.

“Nice to meet you, Taehyung.” I replied softly. His smile widened like if he were the human version of a puppy and then he stepped to the side, back in toe with Hobi.

“So you’re my sister’s other mates” Naomi smiled, nudging my shoulder some. I felt the heat rise to my face as my eyes widened and I looked down at the floor, a little embarrassed, “Forgive her, she’s naturally shy.”

“Naomi!” I groaned internally, squeezing my eyes shut.

“Naomi, stop teasing your sister; Akira, why don’t you go with the guys, hm?” My eyes widened as I turned to face my mother, “Go on! Get to know each other better!” She had the biggest smile on her face from ear to ear. “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind keeping you company.”

“Maaaa!” I covered my face just as Namjoon chuckled while Taehyung and Hobi snickered. My mother practically snatched the dress out of my hands and pushed me into Namjoon’s chest. His hands caught my arms and instantly, I winced slightly and unfortunately he noticed. Sighing, I glanced at my mother and Naomi before following in Namjoon’s direction. “W-What brings you to the mall today?”

“Well, actually, we were shopping for you.” Taehyung answered honestly. You nearly tumbled into him as you stopped abruptly, “And before you say anything, it’s a part of the courting season.” He smiled wickedly, like he knew he had me cornered.

“Because rejecting a gift is like rejecting your alpha.” I mumbled, somehow remembering that rule out of all the others. “Just please, I don’t need anything fancy.”

“Well we’ve already finished shopping for everyone, love. Now we’re just loitering.” Taehyung continued, his obvious pet name not missing my ears. By everyone, I’m assuming the others have gifts for me too.

“Does this mean that all of you will be at the dinner?” I kept my eyes to the tiled floor of the mall as we walked, a leisurely pace set for us as we had nowhere else to be.

“Yes, all of us will be in attendance, Princess. We’re excited to be able to talk more with you, it seems like our leader has been hogging you.” Hobi joked, making Namjoon playfully roll his eyes. I don't know what came over me but I giggled—I actually freaking giggled, I never giggled a day in my life! They all stopped, their eyes shimmering various shades of red and blue as their smiles widened. I gawked, afraid I might’ve done something wrong. Namjoon pressed a hand to my non-bruised arm, squeezing lightly, assuringly, “You have the most adorable laugh.”

I snorted, “I do not!”

“You actually do,” Hobi countered, “it’s bubbly and airy, like champagne.” He winked, sending my wrecked nerves into overdrive.

“Let’s stop teasing, she’s clearly uncomfortable.” Namjoon mocked, clearly in a teasing tone.

“It’s not that, I’m just…” I sighed, fixing my purse, “I’m not used to all the attention. I just assumed this would never happen to me, it’s a little…” I trailed off, thinking of the right word to express it.

“Overwhelming?” Namjoon tilted his head, trying to look me in the eyes. I nodded, clearly feeling that feeling now. Namjoon reached out and lifted my chin with his other hand. “It can be when you’re suddenly the center of attention.” I bit my bottom lip, nodding in agreement.

“Well you better get used to it Princess because you have four other wolves dying for your attention.” I heard Hobi say, watching his smirking gaze look past me. I slowly turned my head, seeing four other men—at least one I have met before—with bags in their hands, all smiling and waving at us. My god, were they all supposed to be this beautiful?

“We can practically hear that beautiful heart of yours going crazy.” Namjoon whispered to me, making me gasp in surprise at how close he was, “Just relax, baby. We’re just as normal as any other pack.” I felt my body sway, even with his hand still holding my arm. Taking a deep breath, I follow him, Hobi and Taehyung over to the rest of the men, introducing myself to everyone and saying hello to Jin once again.

“Hyung told me you were beautiful but he never said you were this beautiful, wow.” The one to speak was Jimin, with his icy blues flickering brighter before flaming out to a nice rich brown color. He looked unreal, almost angelic. With his sculpted jawline and pouty lips. His average height and build, only slightly muscular, and his jet black hair that reached the base of his neck. I felt like I’d turn to stone if I stared any longer. “Very happy I left the den today.” He laughed.

“Hyung? What does that mean?” I felt my head tilt, no doubt a curious look on my face. Their smiles never faltered, though I wish I knew what they were thinking about.

“In Korean culture, hyung means older brother. It’s a sign of respect to use honorifics when addressing someone.” Namjoon explained. I bit my lip, already feeling nervous about my second question,

“You’re gonna kick me for this but…?” I trailed off, which Namjoon figured out almost instantly, chuckling some as he shook his head,

“It’s okay, beautiful. Honorifics are titles used when addressing someone older or higher in status. I’m the leader of our pack and older than Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook. But I’m younger than Jin, Hobi and Yoongi. Leader or not, I show them respect, even though at this point in our relationship, we’ve sort of dropped honorifics.”

“So wait, who’s the oldest?” I asked, slightly confused.

“I am.” Jin raised his hand slightly, “Then it’s Yoongi and Hobi, Namjoon, Jimin, Taehyung, Jungkook.” After learning everyone’s age, I realized I was the youngest among them, “JK finally got his wish, he’s not the youngest anymore.” Jin laughed, the sound squeaky like windshield wipers. His laugh actually made me smile.

“And, forgive me, I’m still pretty new here, I think I’ve met everyone except you two,” I spoke softly, pointing towards Jungkook and Yoongi, “Which one is which?”

“I’m Yoongi.” His deep voice nearly made me froze as he spoke, reaching to grab my hand. Like Jimin and I, he was of average height, but with a slightly buff chest and arms. His skin was fairer than everyone else, even with his tan, making his long black hair stand out. And stretching along one of his eyes that seemed to shimmer a bright deep red the most was a long scar stretching from above his brow to the top of his cheek. By far, he felt the most intimidating? “That’s Jungkook. Nice to meet you, Akira.”

“H-Hi.” I stuttered before turning to the last member of the pack who was just as tall as Jin and Namjoon, with an even muscular—if not more—build. He too had long black hair reaching past his neck, with a lip and brow piercing and an entire sleeve tattoo. You would think out of all of them, he’d be the most intimidating one but when he smiles, it’s like he’s a human bunny. A fully grown puppy. He didn’t shake my hand, he fully hugged me, making me freeze, “Oh!”

“Jungkook—.” Namjoon started to warn him but I slowly started to relax, finding my hands slowly reaching to rest on his shoulder blades.

“She smells like chocolate chip cookies, hyung!” Jungkook giggled excitedly, pulling back to look at my overwhelmed face. His red eyes dimmed back to a dark, almost black color. “I like her!”

“I swear this kid has no filter.” Yoongi sighed, rubbing his temples. I giggled again and that seemed to make everyone growl. I’m starting to see that when they do, it’s a good thing, so I relax some more, “Anyway, Akira did you come alone?”

“N-No. I came with my mother and sister, we were getting things for the first dinner.” I replied softly. “It was a little overwhelming, I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“I’m sure whatever you picked out, our mothers will love them.” Hobi answered.

“Wait, all of your familial packs are ran by women??” Now I was truly nervous, women are way harder to impress, especially mothers!

“Well everyone’s except Jimin and Jin. Their fathers are the leaders, but I promise you have nothing to worry about. Our parents are actually really excited to meet you.” Taehyung shrugged, trying to make me feel at ease. I nodded, still nervous and worried, but not as much as before.

“We were actually about to meet up for lunch, would you like to join us?” Jin asked me. Everyone turned to me, waiting for my response. When I wasn’t looking at them, I was noticing the onlookers watching the eight of us.

“Um, ok, sure.” I nodded, clutching my purse strap once again. I felt Namjoon slip his fingers on the small of my back as we started heading towards the entrance of the mall, coming up on the store my mother, sister, and I were just recently in, “Oh, uh, can you give me a moment?” I went back inside the store, searching for my mother and sister. When I found them by the home goods section, I told them that I would be heading out to lunch with the pack.

“Ok but be home by dinner, we still have a few things to go over with you both.” I nodded, saying goodbye before heading back out the store. We left the mall, heading towards a large black SUV in the parking lot. I’ve never felt this comfortable around people, especially strangers, but it seemed the more I spent with them, the more at ease I started to feel. Maybe this was good for me.

“You know you should really consider the heels.”

Startled, I turned around to see Naomi standing in the doorway of my bedroom. By the end of the week, the family dinner had snuck up on me so quickly, I hadn’t realized how nervous I started to be. The whole time I had been fiddling with my hair, she snuck up on me. “I can barely walk in heels, I don’t usually have to wear any.”

“Still, this wrap dress would look good with some. Maybe grandmother has a pair your size?” I shrugged, nodding as I picked out my curls. It took two hours to put perm rods in my hair; didn’t help that my hair was as long and thick as it was but we made it work. I didn’t use any makeup as I didn’t have any besides lipgloss, I never went anywhere that there was an occasion for it. After fixing my hair and changing my shoes, thanks to my grandmother who just somehow magically had some (yeah they planned it), I left home with the rest of my immediate family and headed to dinner. Being that there’s so many of us, my parents had to rent out a banquet hall for all nine families to attend. I was just happy everything was catered and I didn’t have to cook anything.

When we arrived, I noticed Jackson and Yoongi outside, most likely waiting for Naomi and I. Though I had only met Yoongi last weekend, we managed to talk the most out of everyone. I guess whatever job he had, he had the most flexible hours, but he managed to text me the most. We even got comfortable talking on the phone, sometimes ranging from morning to when I'd eventually fall asleep. As soon as we parked, everyone got out of their cars. I quickly grabbed the gift bags before getting out, making sure everything was right. We started making our way to the entrance and Yoongi smiled, his cheeks all plump, teeth gummy and wide. I gave him back an even smaller smile, my nerves getting the best of me. “You look beautiful, Akira. Even more beautiful than the last we’ve met.”

“Yoongi please.” If I could blush, I’d be as red as a tomato right now. Laughing, he held out his arm for me to take, which I was grateful for as walking in heels of any kind wasn’t second nature to me. “I feel like I’m gonna be sick.” I paused; I had this overwhelming feeling of nausea settle deep within my stomach. I was scared. Terrified. What if the heads of their families didn’t like me? What if I embarrassed myself? My family? What if I embarrass the guys?

“Akira? Jagiya, are you alright?” Both Yoongi and I turned to the entrance of the hall, Taehyung came rushing over. I felt Yoongi’s grip tighten on my hip as I stumbled, the nausea hitting me once again. “Yoongi-hyung, what’s happening?”

“She’s nervous, Taehyungie. She needs to rest.” I turned towards Yoongi, shaking my head slightly,

“No, I can do this, I can get through it, I’m just really nervous.” I just really don’t wanna mess this up. I kept telling myself that, but really, I couldn’t make it two steps before pushing the gifts in Yoongi and Taehyung’s arms and running to the nearest bathroom, heels nearly tripping me up as I struggled to open the door. I ran to the first stall and threw everything up. I could feel my stomach tighten at every hurl, and the burning in the back of my throat and eyes grew worse. When I finished, I flushed away everything and went to the sinks. I rinsed out my mouth, washed my hands and wet my face. “I can do this. I can do this, it’s just dinner.” I whispered to myself.

After composing myself, making sure my dress or hair wasn’t out of place, I headed back to the door to leave. It felt like I ran into a brick wall the minute I stumbled into a hard body. Strong hands stopped me from falling and instantly, the deja vu engulfed me. I looked up just in time to see Namjoon staring down at me. My bottom lip trembled as I fixed my mouth to apologize but he spoke first, “Beautiful, I felt your distress, are you okay? We were worried.” My eyes quickly caught the faces of all seven men standing outside the bathroom, each one looking incredibly worried. “Are you feeling sick?”

“A little but,” realizing how close we stood, I pushed on his chest some, but he wouldn’t budge, “it’s just nerves, Namjoon, I’ll be fine. I promise.”

“Say the word. We can leave right now.” Jimin proposed the idea and instantly, everyone agreed. I shook my head, grabbing onto Namjoon’s forearm for balance, “I am fine. You’re gonna make everyone worried about all of you coming out here like this—.”

“We don’t care about everyone else, we care about you.” Jungkook interrupted, making me pause. “Our families would understand, if something is wrong with our mate, they would understand.” I could tell he was feeling anxious, they all were, about me getting sick. I looked up at Namjoon and squeezed his arm. He nodded back, letting me go, as if he knew that I needed to reassure Jungkook that I was fine. I moved away, taking a few steps towards Jungkook, who instantly had his hands out for me.

“I’m okay, Jungkook. I promise.” I squeezed his wrist, then looked around at the group, letting them know I was fine, “When I get nervous, I get a little nauseated. This is a huge night for everyone and I guess…I guess I was scared of embarrassing you…” My eyes found the carpeted floor more appealing as awkward tension filled my body. Jungkook’s fingers rubbed the small of my back. He then used his other hand to raise my chin, making my head tilt slightly so that we were eye to eye,

“You could never embarrass us. You’re perfect, Akira.” I closed my eyes, shocked at the feel of his lips kissing my cheek. I bowed my head slightly, feeling his chin rest on top of my head. Why is my heart fluttering like this?

“They’re waiting, shall we go, love?” Hobi questioned, waiting for me to give the go ahead, no one else. I nodded, pulling away from Jungkook slightly,

“Let’s do this.”

[joonslfttiddie]

BE MINE

Six

💜Fic Pairing: BTS Member x OFC

💜AU/Genre: Dark Romance | Demon Member

💜Warnings: (for entire work; not chapter specific) Mental Illnesses/Troubled Childhood/Alcoholic Parent/Mentions of Domestic Violence/Physical Violence/Stalking/Gore/Mentions of Blood/Sexist Remarks/Derogatory Remarks/Detailed Murder/Murder of an Animal/Language/Adult Themes/Sexual Themes/Mind Control/Telepathy (invading thoughts w/o permission)/Fingering/Masturbation/Manipulation/Alluding at Drug Usage

💜Rating: MA

💜Word Count: 3,909

Chapter Six

Kamryn Graham

Kamryn was already past their neighbor’s door and going down the sidewalk when she heard Mariah calling for her from their door. Guilt tugged at her in an attempt to pull her back to reality, but she couldn’t stop now, she had to get to him. The distance between their buildings wasn’t far, so she walked around the corner of the courtyard to the back entrance and made it to building D’s elevator within seconds.

Once off of the elevator, on the third floor, she slowly made her way over to his door. The entire distance of the short walk, her uncertainty seemed to grow with each step. What if she was imagining all of this? What if she hadn’t been hearing Jimin after all? Afraid to knock on the door, she hesitated and nervously twisted her fingers together, unsure of what she would even say. For a moment, she thought about running back to the elevator, aborting whatever dumbass mission this was. She was terrified he would think she was crazy, he would laugh in her face, or he would reject her. It’s possible that all of the above could occur, and if so, she wasn’t sure she could handle that.

“Fuck it. I can’t do this.”

“So, he was lying. I knew there was someone. AND A HUMAN? I can smell her stench.”

“Huh?” She was startled and confused to hear a voice that was not the one she’d become accustomed to hearing in her mind. That was not Jimin’s light yet deep tone that captivated her at the convenience store. No, this one was sinister and sent chills down her spine for all the wrong reasons, triggering her fight-or-flight instincts. She also had that familiar feeling like she was being watched, but it was more than that. Like someone was gawking at her, undressing her with their eyes, peering into her soul. Kamryn felt naked as she stood there, as her heart pounded in her chest. When she turned on her heels, ready to flee, she stopped abruptly. Her legs felt heavy as lead, rooting in place, and she couldn’t will herself to even walk away no matter how desperately she tried.

“Come now, kitten. Don’t be shy. Turn around. Knock on the door for me.”

Kamryn’s brain was mush, an entanglement of confusion. She couldn’t think straight and it all was causing her to feel lightheaded. Or maybe it was because she was oxygen-deprived as she noticed that she was no longer breathing. It was as if her body was moving on auto-pilot as she turned and lifted her hand to knock on the door– as if it had a mind of its own. She knocked, and no matter how badly she wanted to run away, no matter how loudly she screamed in her mind, her body betrayed her. She couldn’t move or utter a single word which left her caught in a trap of her own making.

The door cracked maybe an inch when she heard Jimin say, “Hey, Kamryn. Now’s not a good time. What’s your number? I’ll text you later.” His eyes were shifty, like he was avoiding making eye contact with her. His expression was off and he seemed rushed, as if trying to hurry her along.

After hearing his voice, the trance-like state began to fade, she was able to speak and found that she was free to move as she commanded. Kamryn gave him her number after several attempts, stammering over the numbers, and she could physically feel the fog as it continued to lift from her mind.

“I’m so sorry for popping up like this, but, Jimin, I need to talk to you about something. It’s kind of urgent.”

“Not now. I’ll reach out later. Go back home.”

“Jimin.”

“Go!” He yelled at her.

Before she could even follow his command, he had closed the door in her face. She turned, as tears threatened to fall from her eyes, to ride the elevator back down to the first floor to return to her apartment.

What was that? Why is he acting like this? I mean, yeah, I came by unannounced but damn. He seemed so upset. And why did I feel like I was drugged or something? I’m just now feeling 100% back to myself. AND WHOSE VOICE WAS THAT?!

Kamryn could feel the threads of her sanity slowly unraveling.

“Oh my God, Kamryn! What the fuck?!” Kamryn was met at the door by Mariah’s warm voice as she chided her for leaving the way she did, then noticed the pool of tears welled up in her eyes. She pulled her into a hug and continued, “Are you okay? Did something happen? I was scared to death. Don’t do shit like that, it’s dangerous out there, and you’re risking your life with these impulse decisions you’ve been making lately. ”

“Mariah, please.” Kamryn pulled away. “I need you to back off.”

“Back off? What do you mean back off?” Mariah was clearly frustrated from worrying, deep lines formed between her perfectly sculpted brows. “I care about you and I’m pointing out that you are being reckless. I will not back off.” Kamryn shifted her weight from one foot to the other, sighing in frustration. Mariah’s tone softened. “What’s going on with you? You know you can talk to me. Always.”

“Please,” Kamryn said a little louder than she intended, unsure of where that came from, unaware of the energy transfer she’d experienced with Jimin–his darkness seeping into her light. She and Mariah have never really argued and have never raised their voices at one another. Kamryn noticed an aggression building inside of her she’d never experienced–not to this extent, at least. Her mind whirled with confusion as to what had been happening to her, what just happened at Jimin’s, and why she was feeling such strong feelings that weren’t warranted for the situation. “I’m sorry. I can’t breathe with you being like this. I need you to- I just need to be alone right now.”

“Kamryn.” Mariah’s hands, palms up in a slight shrug, fell to slap lightly on her exposed thighs. The way she breathed Kamryn’s name pierced her heart, sounding as if she was about to cry, pleading for her friend to listen. To be okay. Normally, Kamryn would be doing whatever she could to pacify Mariah–to make sure she was okay–but tonight, she bit down hard on her bottom lip and slipped past Mariah, retreating to her room.

Inside, Kamryn couldn’t shake the fiery anger that coursed through her veins. She wanted to punch something or someone, shit, anything at this point. She laid in bed and tried to relax herself, but her furrowed brows, clenched jaw, and balled fists remained. Her nails dug crescent-shaped indentations into her palms and her body trembled, shivering even though she was boiling, burning with an intensity that felt foreign. Kamryn was usually always cold but now, she was physically overcome with a heat that seemed to have dragged her straight into the pits of hell, both body and mind.

When she woke up the next morning, she was still in a pissy mood and didn’t even look like herself when she looked in the mirror. She was still so hot and checked her temperature to make sure she wasn’t getting sick. Normal. She wasn’t sick but she was definitely different, her gentle nature seemed to have burn away overnight as she brushed her teeth so hard, her gums bled. “What the fuck is wrong with me?” It was like her body was at war, unable to regulate the strong emotions of old and new. Kamryn continued to get herself ready for the day, having a few things to do today. She had to go to her studio to set up for this afternoon’s session, do an outdoor family shoot, then she needed to edit a few more shots for other clients to complete their orders. Her day wasn’t slammed, but she would be busy for a huge chunk of the afternoon.

Grabbing her camera bag, laptop bag, and purse, she headed out of her room toward the front door, only to be stopped by Mariah. “Kam, I’m sorry if I’ve been a bit overbearing, I’m just worried about you. If there is something going on, don’t try to handle it alone. You know I’m here if you need me.”

“Yes, I know, and thank you,” she said, shifting the weight of her equipment in her arms. “I’m not even sure as to what is going on with me so I can’t exactly explain it to you. Just- Just don’t pay me any mind if I’m snippier than usual or a little abrasive. I apologize in advance as it’s taking everything in me to be pleasant even as we speak. I’m in the type of mood where I’m waiting for an opportunity, an excuse to slap a bitch. I don’t know why.”

“Okay, I get it. I’ll back off and give you some space to figure things out. Did you want your coffee this morning or nah?” Mariah’s words are tender.

“Nah, I’ll grab something while I’m out. Thank you, friend.”

“Of course. Oh yeah, I talked to Tiara a little more last night. She’s still trying to wrap her mind around Micah’s murder. Just so you know, we did speak about you, but I was just trying to open her eyes to the situation. You know, trying to help work things out between you two.” Mariah seemed apprehensive to inform her and Kamryn interpreted it as her trying to feel her out–trying to determine her stance on resolving the relationship with Tiara.

“Fuck Tiara, and tell her I said it.”

“Oop. Oh. Okay.” Mariah was genuinely shocked, having not seen this side of Kamryn before. “I mean, I get it. I guess you’re really done with her this time. I wonder if the bullshit she pulled last night may be the reason you’re on edge. That was a lot.”

Bitch, your degree is in business administration, not psychology. Stop trying to fucking psychoanalyze me.

“I don’t know, Riah,” Kamryn said with a shrug and obvious annoyance in her voice. “I’ll see you later.”

Kamryn wasn’t sure where her kind, patient alter ego had gone. She didn’t even act like this when in her worst mood, but she was left with this persona that was a frowning, bluntly speaking, no-nonsense tolerating bitch of a person. She wasn’t friendly with the barista at the nearby coffee shop like she usually was, wouldn’t allow people to get over in traffic, and didn’t hold the door once at the studio for people entering the building behind her. Fuck these people. She walked into her space, immediately turned on the industrial fan, and got right to work. She was beginning to sweat, thinking it may be because she had just finished setting up the reflectors, lights, and pulled the client’s preferred backdrop forward on the housing frame attached to the wall. Wiping her face with her palms, she turned when she heard her phone ring in her bag. When she looked at the screen, she rolled her eyes and decided to answer the call she would usually avoid. She had time today.

“Hello?” Kamryn’s voice was rough.

“Well, well, well. Look who decided to finally answer her mother’s call.” Kamryn didn’t even reply and held the phone, waiting for her mother to get to the reason for her call. “Hello?”

“Yes?”

“Look, I didn’t call to get an attitude from you.”

Her mother started in on her merely seconds after she’d answered the phone. This was nothing new to Kamryn, but she’d woken up this morning choosing violence and was finally ready to stand up for herself.

“Then, why did you call?”

Her mother took a moment before responding, obviously taken aback by her daughter’s sudden directness.

“I don’t know what has gotten into you, but you will not disrespect me.”

“I asked why you called. If you find that disrespectful, I don’t know what to say. Is this why you called? To try and pick a fight with me?” She paused to give her mother time to answer, but when she didn’t, she continued, “Well, I’m not in the mood, nor do I have the time, so if that’s all-”

“Kamryn Denise Graham,” her mother said through her teeth. “Do I need to make a trip up there to remind you who’s the adult here?”

“Do what you feel you need to do, Mom. I would suggest, while you’re on your way, that you ponder on the fact that we are both adults here. Yes, you may be a bit older, but we are both grown women. Respect is reciprocal.”

*click*

“Okay,” Kamryn chuckled as she put her phone on the desk after her mother disconnected the call. “What was the fucking reason?” The foolishness of that call made her simply shake her head, the coils of her fro softly tapped her face. She already knew that just as soon as her mother was able to get her dad on the phone and tell her dramatized version of the conversation, he would be calling. So, she sat down and began editing photos. After about five minutes, just as she predicted, her phone rang, showing her father’s picture on the screen.

“Yes?”

“Kamryn. Your mother called me and said that you’d cussed her out for no apparent reason. What is going on?”

She couldn’t help but laugh at that, rubbing her free hand over her fresh face in exasperation.

“Not only did I not use a single cuss word, I simply asked why she called. I also informed her that we are both adults who should be respected, but she decided to hang up in my face instead. Not very ‘adult’ of her, might I add.”

“Look. You know how your mother is. Could you be a little more pleasant?”

“Can I be more of the passive, timid, pushover she’s used to? No, I don’t think I can do that, Dad. I can’t be that person anymore.” Kamryn said calmly and fanned herself with an envelope she found on her desk.

“I understand, Kamryn, I really do. I know that you guys have a strained relationship, and your mother can be a bit… much. But, just try to be more understanding. She’s under a lot of stress, and she worries about you. Hell, even I was surprised when she said she’d talked to you, then you even answered the phone for me.” Kamryn often wondered if she was growing, becoming a better version of herself while actively working to not allow her trauma to govern her adult life, or if she was just avoiding the problem (ie: avoiding her parent’s phone calls and never going home to visit).

“You’re right. She can be a bit much and has always been. No amount of stress can warrant her behavior and the way she has treated me. You were able to escape and go do whatever with whoever while I was stuck there with her, receiving all of the anger she had built up for you. I received all of that animosity because I look just like you.” Kamryn did look just like her father, from his brown, toasted complexion, to his dark, tightly coiled hair. They shared the same plump, button nose, the same athletic build, and even the same almond-shaped eyes. The only thing she inherited from her mother was her curviness and full lips. “All the years of her taking her frustrations out on me is why our relationship is strained. I’m almost 30 years old, and I’m just now finding and utilizing my voice. So, you asking me to continue to accept her abuse with grace is something that I refuse to do. I understand that you still live with her and you’re still choosing to keep the peace instead of protecting your daughter, but I’m done. This is why I don’t answer your calls. It comes with too much stress and drama. This newfound Kamryn I’m evolving into may be new for both of you, she’s new to me too, but I’m growing and will continue to do so. If that’s too much for you... If I’m too much-”

Flap. Flap.

“No. No, you’re not too much.” She was surprised by her father’s softer tone and listened as he took a long, deep breath. “You’re right. I haven’t been there for you and I’m sorry, especially when you were home. I had my reasons for being away, and selfishly, I didn’t think about how you were being impacted. I can see now the things I should have seen then, and I’m so sorry.” Kamryn swallowed the lump forming in her throat and allowed silence to fall on the line as if cleansing their pallets to refresh the conversation. “I have been wanting to tell you that for so long. That I’m sorry and I’m very proud of you. You know, I follow your business page on Facebook and see that you are staying booked and busy. I even have my notifications set so that I catch every post and comment. And your work is,” he let out a puff of air, “simply amazing, Kamryn, truly. You are extraordinarily talented. But I’m also proud of you for standing up for yourself today and using your voice. Keep doing that, whether it’s with me, your mother, or whomever else. Keep growing, Kami.”

“I- I have to go.” Kamryn ended the call after hearing her father’s nickname for her for the first time in years. That, compiled with all the encouraging words she would have killed for when she was a child, gnawed at her heart. An assortment of emotions from opposite ends of the spectrum flooded her. She was still livid from talking to her mother, which reminded her exactly why she had been avoiding her calls in the first place. She was also touched by her father’s words while simultaneously feeling pissed that it took him this long to acknowledge his shortcomings, to acknowledge her, and to apologize. She felt seen by him for the first time, and she didn’t know how to handle the thing she’d been longing for for as long as she could remember. It was odd, but Kamryn was also agitated with herself for allowing his words to affect her. She’s gone all this time without his praise–looking for it in all the wrong places, the wrong people–so why should it matter now?

Flap. Flap. Flap

Her sentiments continued to ebb and flow, giving way to fresh feelings until pride bubbled to the surface. She felt delighted that she advocated for herself and finally stood up to her mother, all while remaining respectful. She smiled, thinking that if her mom thought this conversation was discourteous, she would drop dead if she could hear the things Kamryn didn’t say aloud.

She also noticed that she didn’t have that anxious feeling she would usually have during a confrontation. Her heart wasn’t racing, palms were dry, and she was completely still–no bounding knees or tapping fingertips. No, Kamryn was cool, calm, and collected as she continued to edit the photos on her computer and waited for her client to arrive. Her high was short-lived when her mind wandered to what happened last night. Covering her face as if hiding from the world, she wondered just how stupid she must have looked standing at Jimin’s door unannounced, begging for him to talk to her. “Oh my God!” Kamryn yelled and kicked her feet like a toddler mid-tantrum as she relived the embarrassment. “He must think I am a complete idiot and a desperate one at that. Why the fuck did I do that? Why did I go there? I must be fucking insane, obviously, and need to get Dr. Jones on the line asap!”

After berating herself a while longer, and as she continued to fan herself, it finally clicked. She sat up and gasped at her realization. It had to be Jimin speaking to her in the shower because how did she know which apartment to go to? He’d only told her he lived in the building next to her but never divulged his exact floor or unit number. There was no way, out of the six floors in the building, that she was able to guess he was on the third floor in unit 303. There was no way. It had to be him that whispered in her mind!

Flap. Flap. Flap. Flap. Flap. Flap. Flap. Flap.

“Kamryn?” A gentle hand rested on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Ah!” Kamryn screamed and jumped in her seat which caused her to drop her makeshift fan on the floor. She quickly spun in her chair to find her client, perfectly dressed, looking at her confusedly. “Nya, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even hear you come in.”

“It’s okay. I called your name like seven times but it seemed that you were deep in thought.”

“Oh, yeah, I was,” she admitted. “I guess I was really tapped in.” Both women chuckled lightly. “Anyway, you look amazing.” She gushed, and Nya beamed, spinning so that she could take in the entire look. “Yes, ma’am! I love this dress on you; it will look fabulous against the backdrop you chose. Shall we get started?” Kamryn grabbed her phone and scrolled to her ‘turn up’ playlist, then hit play–the tunes blasted through the Bluetooth speaker.

The shoot with Nya lasted just under an hour, and Kamryn got some excellent shots. They were both excited and eager to see the finished product. After wrapping things up, she went to shoot the family and it went just as smoothly. As the day went on, she noticed that her mood was starting to lighten and she didn’t feel as angry or as sweltering. She decided to go back to the studio to edit the remaining pictures, as she was not in the mood to interact with her roommates just yet. After completing her task beautifully, she began to pack up her things, having already put the rest of her equipment away earlier. Out of nowhere, she was stuck with an unexplainable knowing when she sat at the desk, phone in hand, eyeing the screen. She knew Jimin was about to reach out, but how could she know that? She wasn’t psychic or anything like that. But sure as hell is hot, her phone vibrated in her hand, displaying a text message from an unsaved number.

Jimin: [Hey, Kamryn! This is Jimin. Are you busy?]

“What the-” Kamryn said to herself.

Kamryn: [Hey! No, I just finished up at the studio. Getting ready to leave now.]

Jimin: [Sounds like I caught you at the perfect time. What are you about to do now?]

Flustered, Kamryn stared at her phone. How did she know he was about to text her? The thought made her stomach flip, embarrassment from last night lingering—but still, she couldn’t stop herself from smiling as she read his message.

Kamryn: [Um…I don’t have plans. I was just going to go home.]

Jimin: [Come by my place instead? You said you needed to talk to me about something? There are some things I need to say as well.]

Kamryn: [Oh. Yeah…ok. I’ll see you in about 15 minutes, then.]

Jimin: [See you in 15!]

A/N:

Do you think Kamryn was being disrespectful? What do you think of her relationship with her parents? What will happen at Jimin's place?

Thanks so much to @moonleeai for beta reading this chapter 💜🫶🏽

[joonslfttiddie]

So good!😘🤌🏽

Summary: In Smeraldo Valley, CA, where humans and werewolves coexist, alliances are made between packs to protect those who wish to keep the peace between themselves and the humans, and those who wish to destroy it. Sadly, little human Akira Baptiste just happened to be caught in the middle as her pack family has arranged for her to become part of one of the most powerful packs in the country— The Kim-Bangtan Pack. Strange things take place when everyone soon realizes that rebel packs have begun forming their own communities, making sure to terrorize humans and werewolves alike. How will Akira and Bangtan make it through?

Warnings: strong language, breeding kink, heavy smut, strong violence, angst, parallel polyandry relationships, omegaverse, a/b/o, slow burn, trauma/healing themes, kink exploration; 21+ readings is advised, do not read if you are under 21+, I am not responsible for what you choose to read.

Rating: Mature

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