joonslfttiddie

[joonslfttiddie]

C H A P T E R - F O U R

Summary: As the crossing ceremony draws near, Akira experiences great highs and even greater lows. Some, of which, leads her to danger…

Warning: strong language, breeding kink, heavy smut, strong violence, angst, parallel polyandry relationships, omegaverse, a/b/o, slow burn, trauma/healing themes, abusive family. mention of blood, extreme violence, sexual themes, heavy petting, physical abuse, etc. dni if you are not over 21.

(“”) italics is Bangtan speaking South Korean.

(“”)bold italics is the beginning of a new section.

(‘’)bold is the inner wolf speaking.

WC: 13,233

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“Are you excited for your date tonight, Akira?”

Looking up from her dress, Akira smiled towards her grandmother, “I am, ma’am. Taehyung told me to dress up so I’m trying to figure out what to wear.” Her sweet giggle made Genevieve smile. Entering further into the bedroom, Genevieve took a seat on the bed,

“I know things have been difficult for a while, little wolf.” Akira stopped what she was doing, sensing a soft edge in her grandmother’s voice, “With how your father ran his home and how he almost ruined your chances with your new pack. Things will get better, and soon, you’ll be with them.”

“Grandmother, what’s wrong?” Akira knew by the look on her face that it was serious.

“Your family will not come to your ceremony.” Akira plopped down next to her grandmother with a huge sigh,

“It’s alright grandmother. I kinda figured that they wouldn’t come. I thought after all of this, mama would be there…” Genevieve could see the sadness on her granddaughter’s face, “You know what? This hasn’t been a traditional courting anyway. I apparently have seven mates and I’m a human. None of this has been normal. Let’s not have a ceremony, grandmother.”

Genevieve rebuffed, “Little wolf—.”

“No, really, let’s not worry about it.” Akira interrupted, “I know planning something as big as this, with seven other people, it can be a hassle. I don’t want you to stress yourself over one night. We won’t have to have a ceremony. How about you and I just do dinner instead? I know the guys would love it, they enjoy you.” Akira smiled softly, shrugging her shoulders. Genevieve watched as Akira stood back up and picked up a black, long sleeved body hugging dress that reached to her ankles. “I better get ready, Taehyung will be here soon.” Akira might have been smiling when she went to the bathroom to change, but deep down, she was hurting. Despite how her family always treated her, she still loved them. She at least thought that her aunts and uncles would attend, but knowing that no one from her family would attend hurt more than she thought.

Still determined to have a wonderful date on this gorgeous Saturday night, Akira quickly finished getting ready, designing her braids in a half ponytail and slipping on a fluffy, oversized hunter green sweater. Her necklace danced in between her breasts that sat high in her dress. The oversized sweater slightly hung off her shoulders, but it still highlighted her curvy silhouette. Just as she was finished putting on her earrings, Akira could hear the doorbell ring from her room’s bathroom. She smiled, hurriedly turning out all the lights and grabbing her purse before rushing to the living room. There, she saw Taehyung and her grandmother smiling, most likely from something funny that happened.

“Shiiibal—I mean, you look great, Akira.” Taehyung gulped, straightening his stance abruptly. Akira’s lashes fluttered, cheeks puffed as she smiled. “Are you ready to go?”

Akira nodded, “I’m excited!” Taehyung smiled, walking over and reaching out his arm to her. Akira turned to her grandmother, “Night grandmother, I’ll be back by curfew!”

Like a gentleman, Taehyung opened the door for her. The sleek suv had an all black leather interior to contrast the white exterior. Akira couldn’t count how many cars she’s been in since courting started with the Bangtan pack. “Tae?”

Taehyung’s eyes widened at the nickname. No one besides family and friends had ever used such an informal name for him, “I’m sorry, I should’ve asked..”

“No, no, it’s just…” Taehyung trailed off, his lips widening into a boxy smile, “No one’s ever said my name as sweetly as you.” Akira quickly covered her face in embarrassment, making Taehyung laugh. He grabbed her hands, brought both of them to his lips and kissed the back of them, “You’re sweeter than I thought you were.”

“Oh god, Tae.” Akira scoffed, laughing as she tried looking away. Once the intense flirting ceased, Taehyung started the car. The drive into the city wasn’t long, but still pleasant nonetheless. Akira asked questions about his childhood, why he got into fashion, how he ended up in Bangtan, etc.. She loved hearing him speak, and in turn, he loved hearing her laugh.

“It’s just how it was growing up. One by one, each of our family’s moved into the same neighborhood and because our eommas got along so well, they decided that they would form our familial pack. We became like brothers; our siblings were each other’s siblings and when it was decided that we'd leave South Korea for Smeraldo Valley of all places, we each packed up and left. Our parents liked the quiet here. I think Jimin and I were 14 maybe?” Taehyung shrugged as he drove, more city lights clearer as he drove into the heart of the city.

Akira smiled gently, “I like that. I like that you all stuck together, and that you still kept your traditions with you. It’s rare to see families like that.” Akira trailed off, sighing as she looked out the window. Taehyung hesitated, but he asked, “What about your family?”

Akira shrugged, “We used to have traditions but as we got older, it stopped. Or should I say, they stopped. Half the time, I was excluded.” Taehyung watched a sad smile form on her face. He felt an ache in his chest, “But it’s not like I missed out on much. What my family lacked, my grandmother upheld. I spent most of the important moments with her, and that’s all I care about.” Pulling to a stop at a red light, Taehyung reached over and grabbed Akira’s hand. His thumb ran smoothly across the back of her, making shivers trace down her spine.

Once they arrived at their destination, a dimly lit bistro that featured a live band with elegantly dressed waiters and hostesses. Akira was in awe. Taehyung, watching from the side, smiled at her reaction. “This place is beautiful, Tae.”

“Meh, you’re more beautiful.” He replied. If Akira could blush, she would. Instead she turned her face away from him. After stopping in front of the restaurant, the valet quickly ran to Taehyung’s car door. Taehyung handed him the kiss as he hopped out before smoothly walking over to Akira’s side. After helping her out of the car, Taehyung held his arm out for Akira to grab. Walking in, Akira noticed that once again, people with reservations sat and waited for their table while Taehyung breezed on through. Even the hostess greeted him with a smile, “The usual, Mr. Kim? And will you be gracing us with your voice tonight? You know the guests love it.”

“Aish, not tonight, I’m with my lovely date, but maybe another time.” Taehyung laughed, to an area of the bistro he’s familiar with. It concluded to Akira that either he frequented the place a lot, or it was one of the few restaurants Jin owned. Walking near the stage, a reserved booth sat with clam shell-like padding. “Sooo we just gonna ignore that back there? You sing?” Akira giggled. Taehyung helped Akira up the steps and into the booth, sliding in behind her, “Yes, yes we are.”

“But I wanna hear you sing!” Akira whined playfully.

“Another time, in private, just for you.” Taehyung promised.

Akira could tell Taehyung was suddenly shy about it, so she dropped it. Akira looked around at all the patrons, decked out in their best dressed, “This place looks busy, I feel like I’m still underdressed.” Akira tugged on her sweater, pulling closer to her.

“You’re not, I assure you.” Taehyung shrugged off his jacket, revealing a black turtleneck to match his slacks. Not even two minutes in and a waiter was present at their table with menus ready, it made Akira jump with surprise. “I’ll have the amaretto sour, and the lady will have?” Both the waiter and Taehyung turned to Akira. Fumbling slightly, she replied,

“O-Oh! Um, I’m not much of a drinker…I’ll just have a Cherry Coke, please?” Akira sank a little in her seat. The waiter nodded with a polite smile then headed to the bar. Akira looked over her menu, noting how expensive everything looked. Well, expensive to her, probably not to anyone else. “There’s so much, I wouldn’t know what to choose.”

“What are you feeling tonight, then?” Taehyung asked, barely glancing at his menu before looking over at Akira. She shrugged,

“I’d never been here, you tell me.” Akira turned, holding out the menu to him. Taehyung smiled, pointing out a dish, “The Steak Diane is really good, I think you’d like it.” Akira nodded in agreement. She liked when she didn’t panic on a decision, it made her relax. The waiter came back with the drinks and took their order. Akira moved closer to Taehyung, watching the grenadine and cherries dance in her drink. “So are you excited for the crossing over ceremonies? They’re coming up pretty close.”

Akira shrugged, “I’m, um…I’m not invited to Naomi and Jackson’s ceremony.” Taehyung’s eyes dilated, protest at the tip of his lips when Akira said next, “My father doesn’t want me there, he thinks I’ll distract from their big day.” Akira stared at her drink, twirling the straw around slowly, “Honestly, after the first dinner, I’m starting to agree with him…

“I care about Naomi. I don’t want her day ruined because of my drama. I don’t wanna overshadow that, and if that means not going, then I just won’t go.” Akira sighed, taking a sip of her drink,, “I’ve even decided I don't want a ceremony of my own since everyone decided not to come.” Taehyung gawked,

“What? Why would you forgo your day just because they’ve decided not to celebrate you?” Taehyung seemed hurt by the thought. Akira felt guilty, but she knew that in her heart, she wasn’t seeing the special day like everyone else was, “Tae, I get that this type of thing is special, I do. And if I were a wolf and understood it more, I would be thrilled to participate, but the truth is, I’m used to not being celebrated, so my family not showing up is no surprise to me. I don't want my grandmother and your families going through all this hard work just for it to be wasted. I would rather do something with just us, like a dinner or something.” Akira shrugged again, “I don’t need fancy, Tae,” Akira chuckled grimly, “I’m not that special.”

“You’re wrong.” Taehyung replied darkly, “You are special, Akira. You’re special to us, and that means more than what you think. Why should you diminish yourself and your self-worth because your family can’t see how amazing you are?” Stunned, Akira couldn’t reply, “If they can’t wrap their heads around that, they’re not worth your heart, Akira. They’re not worth sacrificing your happiness or selfishness for.”

“Tae…” Akira shook her head and looked away. Taehyung grabbed her chin, making her look at him,

“Tell me you truly don’t believe you deserve better.”

“I…I don’t know…” Akira replied honestly, “I don’t know what I deserve…”

Taehyung sighed, “Jagiya, I wish you could see what we see. I wish you see how much you deserve better just like every other good person in this world.”

Akira tilted her head, “Damn, you’re good.” She had to hand it to him, he definitely had a way with words. Taehyung licked his lips as he leaned on close to peck her on the cheek. They stared at each other in silence as he continued rubbing her chin, before the waiter came back to take their order. Akira, feeling embarrassed at being caught, pulled away and looked away. Taehyung ordered for their table and then centered his attention back to Akira, “Tae, you’re staring.”

“You’re beautiful.” Quick reply made Akira groaned with awkwardness.

“Stop it.”

“It’s the truth—.”

“Tae.” Akira warned.

“Jagiya.” He replied with an even tone. Akira frowned. “Akira, the point of tonight is that I get to spoil you and you don’t get to complain, however I choose to do it.”

“But Tae—.”

“Omega.” Akira’s body straightened at the sudden command, which Taehyung took note of. Humans shouldn’t be able to do that, no matter the level of an alpha or beta in a pack. “As I was saying…You don’t get to complain. Whether that be spoiling you in compliments or presents, my job as your alpha, especially tonight, is to take care of you.” He tilted her head upwards by the chin, staring longingly at her plump lips, “I get to call you beautiful because you are, indeed, as beautiful as you are on the inside and on the outside. No one’s taking that from you.” Akira felt her insides warm and melt at his touch. She could stare into his mismatched colored eyes for the rest of the night and still feel shy. “Do I make myself clear, Akira? No more disrespecting yourself. When you do that, you disrespect Bangtan.”

“Yes Tae.” Taehyung looked at her expectantly, making Akira gulp, she whispered back, “Yes, Alpha.”

— — —

“And you’re sure she told you that she doesn’t want a crossing over ceremony? Like at all?”

Gathered around in the living room with his brothers, Taehyung nodded immediately as he stared up at his hyung, “She told me herself that since her family refuses to celebrate her crossing, she doesn’t want one. Thinks that her father is the reason they agreed to it. Her grandmother was doing all the preparations, not even her mother was helping. She feels like she’s a burden and will distract from Naomi and Jackson’s ceremony and also made the decision not to attend theirs.” Taehyung had just finished his date with Akira and dropped her off at her grandmother’s. The air in the room thickened as the members of Bangtan drew silent, “Namjoon hyung she’s so heartbroken. She keeps trying to hide it but it’s obvious.”

“It’s true, Joon-ah.” Yoongi sighed, pushing back his hair, “She didn’t say it explicitly but it seems her father is very controlling of her. He didn’t even allow her to finish high school.”

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.” Hoseok cursed, seething as he turned away, hands landing on his hips.

“I hate this family.” Jungkook grumbled, eyes twitching a slight red hue.

“Jungkook-ah.” Jin warned softly, pulling his hyung card, “Go take a breath.” Jungkook huffed, leaving the room. “Jimin, go with him, please?” Jimin nodded, running after Jungkook. The sound of clothes dropping and bones cracking in the background gave way to the howls of the wolves leaving their den. Hoseok sighed, pacing back and forth as he pinched his brows. Namjoon looked stressed, leg jumping up and down as his brain worked overtime. Jin spoke again finally, “Her family has really worked a number on her.”

“It’s her father. I have no doubt in my mind that he’s abusive.” Namjoon mumbled.

“He is.” Yoongi interrupted, “Any man who only singles out just one of his kids is abusive. Jin said he threatened her. He took only Akira out of school. He’s dangerous towards her. He hates her because she’s a human.”

“That’s not her fault.” Taehyung whined.

“It’s not, but to him, it might as well be.” Yoongi continued, “Whatever issues he has with humans, he’s taking it out on her, and I guarantee it’s been happening for years. We need her here with us, Joon.” Yoongi turned to Namjoon, who looked deep in thought.

“Right now, she’s with her grandmother. That’s the safest place for her until all of this is over, we can’t break the rules.”

“Screw these damn rules, they are hurting her!” Yoongi grew agitated, the red of his eyes glimmering. Sensing the tension rising, Hoseok intervened,

“Listen, I agree with you hyung, we all do. But what proof do we have? We bring it to our parents, to the counsel and then what? For all they know, the dinner was an isolated incident. And no one in her family is going to go against her father. We have to play by the rules.”

“You didn’t feel what I felt from her, hyung.” Taehyung shook his head. The bleak stare in his eyes made them concerned, “It felt like her soul was dying.”

Silence engulfed the room. They could faintly hear Jungkook howl at the moon, obviously far away but still listening. Jin looked up at Taehyung, who clearly looked like he was going to cry, “What are you saying, Tae?”

Taehyung looked down at his hands, shaking his head softly, “I’m saying I’m afraid she might hurt herself.”

“That’s insane.” Yoongi scoffed.

“It’s not.” Hoseok disagreed, “If you dealt with daily abuse, wouldn’t you find a way out?”

“Enough.” Namjoon silenced them all, suddenly getting upset. He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to believe that Akira would ever harm herself, nor did he want to believe that she would ever leave them heartbroken, “We leave it alone for now. She’s safe with her grandmother, I know that for a fact.”

“How can you be so sure?” Taehyung questioned.

“Because her grandmother is a Divine.” All three heads shot to Namjoon. Eyes widened in surprise, a Divine was living among them.

“A Divine? How do you know this?” Hoseok was skeptical.

“She told me. During one of our visits, I saw her use her magic. They’re ancient magic, very rare, even her family hasn’t heard of them, I don’t think they realize she is one. Only a few have seen them. With that type of power, Akira is safer with her grandmother.” A Divine is considered a demigod of sorts. Children of the lycan goddess mother, Akashi. Believing that her love for children sparked the creation of demigods, Divines. She planted a few seeds of love. And they grew and had seeds of their own and so on. To be a Divine means tremendous power flows through you. Namjoon wasn’t so worried.

“I can’t believe it.” Jin seemed the most surprised out of everyone. He had heard the legends before but didn’t believe they were true. “Do you think Akira knows? She has to know.”

“No.” Namjoon replied, “ And I don’t think that’s our story to tell. But the main thing right now is knowing she’s safe. We’ll deal with the rest once it happens.”

— — —

“You’re always so beautiful every time I see you, Akira. I can’t tell you how lucky I feel to see your face.”

Hoseok originally was supposed to go next for his date with Akira, but sadly something came up at work. Naturally, Namjoon, Jungkook, and Jimin fought for the spot, while Jin patiently waited for his time. Namjoon pulled the hyung card, outranking them both and left Jungkook and Jimin pouting.

“Namjoon, please..” Akira mumbled shyly, burying her face into his chest as she giggled. Namjoon stood with her outside a movie theater, waiting in line to see the latest Marvel movie. His arms wrapped securely around her waist, bringing her closer to him. She was small in his hands, no higher than Yoongi or Jimin. He made her giggle and swoon and blush; her cheeks were hot and aching from smiling. “I get shy every time I’m with you.”

“So what? I find it cute.” His deep voice rumbled, making Akira shiver. After the line moved up and you got your tickets, Namjoon brought you to the concession stand. “Order whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want? You sure ‘bout that?” Akira questioned cutely. Namjoon just smiled,

“Yes beautiful, whatever you want.” He stood behind her, engulfing her with his body. Secretly, he wanted his scent to mask hers, making sure others knew she was his. But in reality, he just really liked holding her. And Akira really liked letting him hold her. She liked the safety she felt with him, how she felt warm in his arms. He provided a comfort that hadn’t been known to her in years.

“Mmm, Joonie I want popcorn, some raisinettes, and a sprite, please?” Akira turned her head, looking up at him. Namjoon smirked, staring down at her,

“Joonie huh?”

“I hear the boys call you that all the time. I can call you by your name if—.”

“Don’t you dare.” Namjoon interrupted playfully, “I don’t want any formality between us.” Namjoon pecked the side of her head. He ordered for them and within minutes, Akira was over by the butter station, pouring butter on her popcorn. But then Namjoon had to run to the restroom.

“I told you you should’ve just used the restroom before we left, it’s a 3 hour movie.” Akira laughed, watching him groan as he ran inside. Akira felt she dressed cutely today: her white, long sleeve turtleneck hidden beneath a black overall dress with matching black chunky heeled boots. Her braids were down today, softly pushed back by a white headband. Akira didn’t know it but she was 90s fine. The girl that a Dewayne Wayne or an Eddie Winslow would date, if 90s men weren’t shallow. Yet every time she felt even just a little bit confident, there was someone to snatch it away.

“Yeah that’s her! I heard she was here with Kim Namjoon!”

“Seriously?? What the hell does he see in that whale?”

“I heard that she’s his mate. For the WHOLE pack!”

“My god I feel sorry for them. They have that thing as a mate.”

Suddenly Akira didn’t feel as confident as she had before. Not with the constant whispering and stares. She pulled at her skirt; eyes staring at her brown skin and teeth plunging down on her plump bottom lip. Tears started swelling in her big round eyes. Akira decided she no longer wanted to see the movie.

“Get up.” A deep voice conjured her out of her subconscious. Akira slowly raised head to Namjoon, staring back at her. Akira slowly stood. Her fears and sadness, squashed by a single kiss. She was taken aback by the sudden feel of his lips. The aggressiveness shocked her nervous system; a chorus of gasps surrounding them. Namjoon held the back of her neck with one hand while circling her waist the other. Relaxing into the kiss, Akira slowly brought her arms around his neck; his tongue seeking entrance between her lips. Getting lost in her scent blooming, oozing sticky mapley sweetness, Namjoon suddenly pulled away. His eyes red like hellfire, searching the room for those that wished to speak ill of his mate.

Heads turned to avoid eye contact, clearly afraid of the head Alpha. Beneath Namjoon, Akira stood, absolutely buzzed, high off his strong scent alone. Her eyes doubled in size, and she could barely stand, leaning into his chest for help. “J-Joonie?” Namjoon retreated back to his love, her soft voice calming his nerves, “Yes, beautiful?”

“What was that?” Akira asked tentatively.

“Just letting it be known that you are mine. And if anyone has a problem with it, they can damn sure bring it to me.” Namjoon cut his eyes at a group of people passing by, all scrambling to avoid his gaze. “Are you alright, beautiful?”

“I think so. Just a little dizzy.” Namjoon held her waist firmly, watching her dilated eyes return to normal. Namjoon let her go, regrettably, then picked up the snacks,

“Ready for the movie?” He asked nonchalantly.

Akira blinked, astounded and confused.

— — —

“Namjoon? As much as I enjoy making out with you, and believe me, I do…I don’t think this is a good idea.”

It certainly wasn’t a good idea for Akira and Namjoon to go parking and make out in his car. And it definitely wasn’t a good idea to be straddling his lap while his seat is down. Akira’s dress rose beneath her ass, just lightly tickling where Namjoon’s fingers gripped her thighs. Namjoon, lips plump and glossy, skin blotchy from overheating as they have fogged up all the windows. Namjoon frowned in confusion, “Why not, baby?”

Akira could’ve nearly melted at the new pet name, and nearly melt she did. His fingers rubbed underneath her thighs, turning her skin hot. “Joonie, please.”

“You gotta use your words, baby.” Akira whined, making him chuckle. Slowly, Namjoon sat up. Akira fell to his lap, the wet spot of her underwear nearly touching his clothed crotch. Namjoon tipped toward, kissing along Akira’s chin to her lips again. “C’mon. Talk to me.”

“I d-don’t—mmm, I don’t wa-mm—fuck,” Akira moaned, feeling Namjoon roll her hips against his, fingers fully disappearing beneath her dress as he grabbed her ass. Akira felt overwhelmed. The hardness she felt brushing against her clit made her whimper. “J-Joon!”

“Yes baby?” He whispered, breath hot against her ear as he bit down playfully. Akira’s eyes rolled to the back of her head; Namjoon squeezed her ass again, his fingers lowered dangerously towards her lower lips. He couldn’t even let her speak as his lips found hers again , devouring every moan she offered him. He moved her hips at a faster pace, making her thighs tense. He couldn’t get enough of the way she smelled. That sweet, syrupy scent was heaven sent. Made him think of warm, cozy nights, hot chocolate dancing on his tongue with a plate of cookies nearby. His deep voice made her drip even further, making his inner wolf growl. “I don’t wanna trigger you.” Akira moaned loudly as she pulled away from his lips, the next wave of her hips against his crotch brushed firmly against her clit. She gripped his shirt, willing him to stop for a moment, “Please Joonie.”

“Babygirl,” Namjoon plucked her by the chin, making her look at him, “you won’t trigger my rut, I promise. I have great control of that.”

Akira stared on, doubtful, “I-I…” Akira exhaled deeply, “If I do, I don’t think I can—.”

“Shh, shh,” Namjoon interrupted, shushing her, “I would never ask you to help me out in that way, Akira. Especially like this.” Akira sat straight. Reminded of the talk she had with Naomi, she suddenly remembered what triggering a rut would do. What it all entailed. Akira looked away from Namjoon, rising up off his lap and sitting back in the passenger seat, fixing her dress. Whatever it was, Namjoon knew he fucked up. Aside from the sweetness of her arousal, there was the burnt smell of sugar, no doubt the smell of sadness coming from Akira. “Akira, if I insulted you, I never meant to, I promise I didn’t.” Namjoon looked over at her folded up body. Her feet tucked beneath her legs, and her embarrassed expression fixated on her thighs, “I just don’t want your first time to be because of a rut. And I especially don’t want it to be anywhere that isn’t comfortable for you.” Fed up with the silence, Namjoon reached over and gripped her chin, making Akira look at him, “I want your first time, whether it be with me or one of the guys, it should feel special. Not rushed and definitely not during the most triggered moment of someone’s life. I respect you too much to take that moment away from you just because of a week’s worth of raging hormones.”

“It’s…it’s not that.” Akira spoke softly, reaching up to remove his hand, “I know you don’t want that for me, I appreciate it, but…” Her fingers danced over his, playing with each one, “God this is embarrassing..”

“Whatever it is, you can tell me.” Namjoon assured her.

“…How do you deal with them? Your ruts?” Akira watched as Namjoon breathed in deep at the question, obviously not prepared for it. Akira was afraid of the answer she knew she’d get, and it wouldn’t be pleasant.

“You’re asking me if I’ve ever slept with anyone for it.” Namjoon realized, turning his hand to grab hers. “Akira, I want complete honesty between us.”

Akira worried, “So do I, Joonie..”

“I have in the past. We all have.” Akira exhaled briefly, staring down at his large hand, “I can’t lie to you. When our rut comes, we do get help from some…friends we know. No strings attached, just helping each other from time to time.” Unintentionally, Akira squeezed Namjoon’s hand. Was she embarrassed? Saddened? Jealous? Akira wasn’t sure. “Akira? If you’re upset, I would understand…” Silence, “Say something.”

“I…understand it.” Akira spoke softly. Namjoon was surprised, “I was told that it’s not a pleasant experience. Almost unbearable.” Akira pouted, “It’s not my business, I know that…Joonie, what you and the rest of the guys do to ease that part of your life is your business. And…when the time comes, I won’t interfere with whatever deal you have going on with your friends.”

“Akira,” Namjoon sighed, “baby, I can’t speak for everyone else but my self control is a lot better than it used to be. I don’t need nor want help for it. And I wouldn’t disrespect you like that.” Akira bit her lip, unsure of what to say. Namjoon let go of her hand and grabbed her chin gently, “You are the lady of the house now. You’re the pack omega, our home is your safe space. You don’t ever disrespect the safe space of a den omega. I wouldn’t dream of bringing another woman in when I have you, even if you don’t help me with my rut.”

“But I don’t wanna see you in pain.” Akira frowned.

“Same goes for you.” Namjoon countered back. Akira’s eyes once again welled with tears. Namjoon brushed his forehead against hers, the gesture a sign of vulnerability, “You're my mate, you’re way too important to me now.”

“So what am I supposed to do? I never see male wolves go into a rut, I usually get sent away to my grandmother’s with my sisters.” Akira, for all her family's faults, was sheltered from a lot of things. She never got to see them turn, she never experienced their heats and ruts, she never saw a lot of things.

“When the time comes, you’ll know what to do.” Namjoon reassured her. The look in her eyes had Namjoon falling in love with her. Akira felt so lost and so confident all at the same time. Her time with them felt like a little bit of time peace in an otherwise violent world. She wanted that peace to last for the rest of her life, “Something else is on your mind, I can tell. Spill it, beautiful.”

“A couple of weeks ago, I heard my uncle talking about rebel packs picking up the nomads and recruiting them. I will admit, I don’t know much about what’s happening but I know enough to know that that’s not good, is it Joonie?” Namjoon sighed then nodded, pulling back some. “Is this why the summits are really held? Not just for moving omegas and betas to other packs, but to form alliances?” Namjoon had to hand it to her, Akira really paid attention to her surroundings.

“It’s more complicated than that, but yeah. It’s so that smaller packs can have protection from the rebels. They want to gain control over the human population as well as the werewolf population. They want to segregate the humans and eventually have complete control over them. It hasn’t happened in Smeraldo yet, but it’s working its way here. They’re coming from the east, taking over smaller groups. Packs have started forming alliances to maintain the order we have now but some turn.”

“Well then I’m confused.” Akira pondered aloud, "If your pack is the most powerful, how would these other packs take over in the east?”

“Our.” Namjoon corrected, smiling softly, “And we're the most powerful In Smeraldo. Outside, we are one of 100. We’re influential, yes, but there’s more of us out there. Do you remember how we told you that the Wang pack was our brother pack?” Akira nodded, following along, “It’s not just because Jackson and I and our brothers grew up together. We’re a part of an organization called The Collective. There’s a hundred packs with ties and connections around the world to make our society work. We help each other. Bangtan is second in command, followed by Jackson’s pack.”

“Who’s the first?” Akira looked so enthralled by the new information that Namjoon indulged her curiosity,

“The Choi pack. There’s seventeen of them, not counting their mates.” Akira’s eyes widened tremendously, “We might be third generation wolf, but our generation started The Collective when we noticed there were deaths surrounding our kind. We assumed hunters but some of them were wolf-related. In order to protect each other and our families, we created the organization. Our familial packs followed suit, wanting to protect everyone. But I guess…somewhere out of the hundred or so of us, some have splintered off. We have certain rules and regulations and if they no longer follow—.”

“They rebel.” Akira finished. Akira looked away, “That’s why my father pushed us. He’s scared.”

“I won’t align myself with him if that’s not what you want.” Namjoon promised, “My main concern is you.”

“I know, and I wouldn’t ask you to, it's just…” Akira trailed off, her thoughts a complete mess. She didn’t want her family to be a part of this society Namjoon and few others created, selfishly, she didn’t want to share. But truthfully, she knew deep down, even with all the scars they left, she couldn’t hurt them. “I think about the children. My grandmother. My mother…” Akira looked down at Namjoon's hand. She turned it over palm side up, “I wouldn’t compromise their safety, no matter how I feel about my family. They don’t deserve that.”

“Doesn’t your family have connections of their own?”

“Yes, but only because of my grandmother.” Akira shook her head, facing Namjoon, “Out of respect for my grandfather, his family was one of the founding families of Smeraldo, like, decades ago. Out of a few hundred or some black werewolf packs in the country, ours has been the most influential among our community. But after he died, things kinda changed. No one ever bothered my grandmother. I guess her magic kinda made people weary, but it also kept some families safe. And then outsiders came in,”

“You mean like me? I’m not originally from here, you know that.” Namjoon expressed. Akira nodded,

“I know. The city expanded and it seemed like my grandmother could…relax. I guess once she noticed that she didn’t have to fear anything anymore, she could be ok. Still kinda closed herself off a little, but it’s not as bad.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Namjoon hesitated before speaking again, “how did he die? Your grandfather.

Akira pursed her lips before a heavy sigh brought her heavy chest forward, “He was killed. By humans.” Akira spoke almost in a whisper as she looked back down at Namjoon’s hand, “Grandmother refuses to go into detail about it and I could never ask my father, he seemed angry any time it was mentioned. But I know she truly loved him. So much that the thought of even entertaining another man would’ve made her skin crawl. I think he was her mate. He died when my father was really young, maybe 11 or 12. She used to say loving Booker was the greatest gift she ever got, and nothing could compare to that. She had four children, my father being the oldest. But Booker Joseph Batiste was her everything.” Namjoon could feel her hands shaking. The small sniffle was enough for him to reach across and hold her wet cheeks, “Joonie..”

“Tell me what’s wrong, Akira.” Namjoon worried.

“Is that what it’s like? Having a mate?” Akira raised her head, the watery look she gave him made his chest ache, “The greatest joy you can ever have in the world, until it’s taken from you, and all you have is constant pain for the rest of your life? It seems so awful.” Akira sniffled again, finding tears sliding down her face, “My grandmother constantly mourns him. She rarely ever smiles and I think she’s waiting to die one day just to be with him. I don’t wanna live like that.”

“I think your grandmother’s love for your grandfather was more than just being mates. I think she loved him so deeply that losing him would’ve hurt more than any of us could imagine. I can’t tell you how to feel about us Akira because you’re entitled to your own feelings but as for us, as for me…I feel as though I’ve fallen in love with you.” If it weren’t for his super hearing, Namjoon would’ve never heard the tiny gasp escape from her lips. Akira never had someone fall in love with her before. She’d never been on a proper date, let alone thought of boyfriends until these men drifted into her life. How could they possibly be in love with her already? How could she possibly feel the same?

“You barely know me, how can you fall in love with me?” Akira whispered back, shock still lingering over her.

“I know enough.” Namjoon chuckled, stroking her face. “In the few months that we've talked to each other, I know a lot of things. I know that you like the rain because it’s soothing to you. I know your favorite fruit is strawberries. I know you like having music playing when you cook, and I know when you’re happy, you smell like hot cocoa instead of chocolate chip cookies, when you’re just feeling okay.” Akira’s breathing faltered, surprised by all of this, “You think I don’t know you, but I do. I know some things, not all, and I wanna learn more. That’s why I know I love you, Akira.” More tears fell down Akira’s face as Namjoon left her speechless. She didn’t know what to say, yet she didn’t really have to say anything. He swiped her cheeks lovingly, with a soft smile on his face. Akira felt overwhelmed. She hadn’t received this type of attention or love from someone before and sadly, it showed.

Akira leaned in closer and naturally, Namjoon followed. Their lips met and molded together. Her tiny gasps made his wolf growl with pleasure, ‘Need her, need our omega.’ Namjoon groaned, “I need to take you home soon. If I don’t, my wolf might come out.”

“I thought you said you could control it?” Akira panted, slightly dazed from the kiss.

“Yes, but you make it very difficult to.” Namjoon groaned, pressing his forehead against hers. Akira giggled, sweet and bubbly as Hoseok first described it. Namjoon kissed her cheek and forehead before fixing his seat and starting the ignition. He drove her home in a comfortable silence, one where Akira held his free hand the entire ride.

— — —

“Hobi, I never pictured you as a picnic kind of guy.”

Sitting in the middle of the city park, under a large oak tree with a large blanket, lunch and snacks was Akira and Hoseok. To make up for missing their date night the night before, Hoseok wanted to take Akira on a nice lunch date. Was it an impromptu date? Yes, but Hobi knew Akira wouldn’t have minded. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” Hoseok smirked, making Akira grow shy, “But sometimes, on days like this, I like to be outdoors. Helps clear my head.”

“I take it Joonie told you about our date last night.” Akira sighed, putting down her steak sandwich, all of the food Hoseok made by the way. Akira felt like she left with a lot more questions than answers last night, and it was painfully obvious on her face at the moment.

“More or less. But he’s not the only one, princess.” Hoseok dropped his head, trying to get Akira to look him in the eyes, “What’s this I hear you don’t want a crossing over ceremony.”

“…Taehyung told you?” Akira fiddled with her fingers, looking down at her shorts.

“We don’t keep secrets in Bangtan, princess. And while I think I understand why you don’t want it, just know it’s not just your ceremony, it’s ours too. And we wanna proudly show you off.” Hoseok watched as Akira pouted, a soft sour look on her face,

“I didn’t think about that.” Akira mumbled, “I just…I didn’t want the fuss, you know? I know that my grandmother and your mothers are planning this event for us and I’m forever grateful for it but…I just can’t get behind the excitement of it. I don’t feel the joy I thought I would feel.”

“Because you feel like there’s nobody there supporting you?” Hoseok questioned. Akira fiddled with her bracelet, particularly the Sun charm. Hoseok smiled at that. Hoseok laid down and stretched his arms out, “C’mere princess.” Akira hesitated at first but laid her head on his stomach, “You have a right to feel that. But there is always somebody supporting you, princess. We’re all here.”

“I get that but—.”

“No buts, omega.” Hoseok playfully scolded, to which Akira slightly pouted. He liked that she responded to him like a normal omega would. He liked that she obeyed them in the sense that it was willingly and not by force. His eyes traveled her body. From the position, face covered by her visor. The matching black biker shorts stretched over thick thighs, extending just beneath her oversized cream colored t-shirt. Her gold puzzle piece necklace dangling down her chest. Hoseok picked up a strawberry, dangling the fruit in front of her lips, “Open, princess.” He heard her tiny gasp before she followed suit, opening her plump rose colored lips. Hoseok fed her more fruit as they talked. An hour later, positions switched as they both relaxed under the shade of the oak tree. Hoseok laid his head on her thigh. Akira ran her fingers through his hair. They talked and talked, about nothing and everything all at once.

“I think next to rain storms, this is probably one of my favorite things. Just being here, out in nature, clearing my thoughts. Thank you Hobi. I really enjoyed today.” Hoseok opened his eyes and smiled up at her. “Can we do this again, Hobi? Soon?” Hoseok groaned as he sat up. He looked over at Akira once more, taking a hand to pluck at her chin, “Sure thing, princess. But I have to let Jin, Jimin, and Jungkook take you on a date first, they haven’t had their turn yet.”

“Wouldn’t want to upset them then, huh?” Akira giggled.

“No, you don’t.” Hoseok laughed, “Jin is the more patient out of the three, he likes the anticipation. Jimin has a temper like a toddler and JK gets jealous when he’s not getting attention.”

“Oh lawd, he knows he has to share me, right?” Akira laughed again.

“Yes, but he’s the baby. The pup always had to share, but with you, it’s different.” Hoseok shook his head, “He feels very strongly about you and honestly, I can’t blame him. We all do. He’s the most protective of you.”

“Is that how you all feel? Do you feel overly protective of me too, Hobi?” Akira tilted her head back, feeling the slight breeze drift across her neck. Her eyes closed and the ends of her braids tickled at her wrists. Soon she felt a presence looming over her, but she dared not open her eyes, familiar with the spiced mahogany and bergamot scent rolling off Hoseok’s body. The brush of his lips made her gasp as they pressed against her exposed neck. He pressed firmly but gently from her clavicle to behind her ear. Akira’s breath labored, “Of course I do. Werewolves are always protective of their mates. But you, princess..” Hoseok growled near her ear, making her eyes slightly roll close and the barest of moans slip from her lips, “You’re different. We want to protect you and never let you go.” Hoseok reached up and grabbed Akira’s chin, turning her head towards his. His lips melted against hers, trapping in her sweet moans.

Akira raised her hand to the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his long hair. Public outing be damned, Hoseok and Akira made out like teenagers. Akira tugged at his hair, a guttural growl deep from within, sent shivers all through Akira’s body. Hoseok’s wolf was definitely trying to escape, ‘Omega smells so sweet. Please omega.’. Hoseok pulled back slowly, chucking to himself. Akira panted with a small frown, “What?”

“My wolf. He wants you just as bad as I do.” Akira blinked rapidly, sitting straighter as the tidbit surprised her, “He’s craving something sweet.” Hoseok smirked, making Akira bite her bottom lip and look away.

“Hobi, stop it.” Akira giggled. Oh how he loved that sound already. Hoseok leaned in again, nipping at her neck and her cheek, making her giggle again.

“No, you taste too good.” Hoseok refused. Akira gasped again, playfully pushing at his chest. They stayed a few moments later packing up and heading back to Akira’s home. For once, she had a free night, no dates. She had a lot of decompressing to do,

“Hobi?”

Hoseok looked at her just as he pulled up to her home, “Yes princess?”

“Can you talk to your wolf? Like, have actual conversations with him? Can your wolf communicate with others, too?” Akira turned to him, expecting an answer.

Hoseok smiled, “Yes. He’s primal, naturally but he can communicate and yes, he can talk to other wolves, but only those that are in our pack or our familial pack.”

“You know what’s funny? I used to pray that I had a wolf of my own.” Akira chuckled grimly, looking down and away at her charm bracelet, “That maybe I wasn’t different from my family, maybe she was just shy or mute. But when I realized I wouldn’t be one, I saw how quickly things in my family changed. I was alone. They didn’t know how to deal with me and honestly, I didn’t know how to deal with me either. I guess…deep down…I knew the day we found out would be the day everything would change.” Akira shrugged grimly once more before turning to Hoseok again, “I really have had the best week, with all of you. I haven’t felt this special in a very long time. Thank you, Hobi.” Her soft voice made his ears twitch as Akira leaned over and gave him a soft kiss.

Akira soon hopped out of the car and headed inside. Hoseok was beside himself. He couldn’t describe it but maybe this feeling of brokenness, this hollowness…maybe it’s exactly what Taehyung was trying to explain to them. He felt her pain. Greater than any feeling he’s ever felt. It brought tears to the man’s eyes as he drove away, not wanting to leave her.

— — —

“I can’t do this anymore! They’ve taken over everything, it’s practically not my ceremony anymore!”

Akira watched as her sister Naomi paced up and down her bedroom. She shortly came to visit after having an argument with their parents about her crossing over ceremony. Once again, Naomi’s pleas weren’t heard and, feeling overwhelmed, she ran to the one place she felt safe: her grandmother’s. “I just wanted something small but they’re making it into this grand thing! Jackson understood that, why couldn’t they?”

“I don’t know, Naomi, I wish I did.” Akira spoke quietly, feeling sad that her sister felt overshadowed by such a thing. She knew that feeling all too well, and still couldn’t find a way to help her. “What has Jackson said?”

“He’s trying to be understanding and see everyone’s side, but he knows how much I hate attention so he’s trying to be firmer with them. Still, he respects his elders too much.” Naomi plopped down in a chair, crossing her arms over her chest, “How’s things with grandmother, has she been planning yours?”

Akira nodded, “At first, I told her I didn’t want one since no one was coming, but since I talked to the guys, I changed my mind. Grandmother is in town now, going over things with their mothers.”

“I wish I could be there but Jackson and I are going away right after our ceremony. He thought I could use the time away to relax.” Naomi sighed, fiddling with her bangle, a gift from Jackson, “I just wish we had a say. To do it our way, without interference. At least grandmother lets you have a say.”

Akira sighed, “Yes, but I’m barely involved with it honestly. I’ve been busy trying to get through all these dates, I still have a date with Jimin this Friday, one this Saturday with Jin and one with Jungkook, Sunday.” It had been a week or so since Akira’s last date with Namjoon and Hoseok. And a week before that, with Yoongi and Taehyung. Now, her long anticipated wait was nearly over with the last three remaining members of her pack. She could hardly stand the wait.

“My, my, haven’t we been busy, little sister.” Akira tilted her head slightly, not sure if Naomi meant the bitter tone she used. Still, she responded back as normal,

“My situation isn’t like yours. You have one mate to look after, I have seven. You have more time to focus on Jackson and vice versa. Which is why, I think you should put your foot down and tell them that you want something small and intimate that reflects you and Jackson, not your families. You’re a Beta, your input should matter most, shouldn’t it?”

Naomi frowned, crouching over in her seat, “You really think I should?”

“Yes, I do.” Akira nodded emphatically, “Naomi, you’re gonna spend the rest of your life with that man. Shouldn’t you both have a moment where you reflect on the moment that you two became each other’s mates? It’s supposed to be about you two, not everyone else. You’re stronger than you think Naomi, you really are.” If only Akira could believe her own words for herself.

“You really believe in me, don’t you?” Naomi stared up at Akira. Akira smiled simply, nodding.

“I always believed you could do anything, Naomi. I looked up to you the most when I was younger.” Akira smiled, looking away. On her nightstand was a very old picture in a silver picture frame. The glass was cracked from the time their father threw it at a wall near Akira’s head, but it was still intact. The picture of three little girls, all in dresses with their hair done up for a birthday party. A little Naomi, just at four years old, two front teeth missing, all smiles next to a smiling seven year old Justine who held two year old Akira. The same bright eyed look in her eyes as now. Naomi followed Akira’s train of sight, looking at the cracked picture frame.

“You kept this?” Naomi got up and walked over to the nightstand. She picked up the picture frame, gliding her fingers over the glass. Akira mumbled a soft ‘yes’ with a light sigh. Naomi didn’t realize she could feel the agony her baby sister carried. The weight of it filled the bedroom as she glanced at Akira, who, unbeknownst to her, had shed tears in her eyes as the memory of that day replayed in her mind. The oddest thing happened. For Naomi, it felt as though she could feel her sister’s pain, “I think this is the only picture of the three of us together.”

“Yeah, it kinda is. It’s the only one I have of you two smiling…” Akira felt her throat starting to close. “I remember the night he threw it. I don’t know what I did, maybe I said or did something to make him angry. I was 12, I didn’t know. I just remember him throwing it at me, but he missed, and then walking over to me. I got whipped with his shoe that time, not the belt. I remember I nearly blacked out cause it was one of his hard bottom shoes? You know the ones with the red underside? Then he locked me in the coat closet until I could behave better.” Naomi’s horror-filled reaction was something Akira expected, “You weren’t there, you were at cousin Nikki’s for a sleepover. Maybe that’s what I did to make him angry, maybe I whined about not being able to go? I don’t know.” Akira shrugged, wiping a stray tear, “Anyway, Justine, Malik and Braxton were there. They just went to their rooms. They never really got in trouble much now that I think about it…” Akira's laugh was hollow as it was dark, chilling Naomi’s spine, “Anyway, it had to have been hours later cause the sun was up when mama let me out after she found me. Nobody told her where I was, she spent the night playing cards with our aunties and some friends. She didn’t even say anything to him. Just pulled me out and hugged me tight.”

Akira felt this sudden darkness take over and Naomi felt it too. The room felt smaller and smaller by the minute, “Try as I might, no matter how hard I tried being quiet and obedient, it wasn’t enough for him. Every little thing I did made him angry.” Akira looked up at Naomi, whose eyes filled with their own tears, “That was my favorite picture. Just the three of us. I don’t remember that day but I do remember feeling safe with the two of you. You know I looked through grandmother’s pictures and after age 10, I think I'm only in five? All the important pictures, the birthday parties, weddings, holidays…I’m not there. It’s as if I never existed…” The choked voice grew quieter, softer. Naomi burst into tears while Akira disassociated completely, staring at a blank wall ahead. When Akira came to, she grew aware of Naomi hugging her. This time, Akira hugged her back, although hesitantly.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t do more. I should’ve done more.” Naomi sobbed.

“What could you do, Naomi, you were a child just like me.” Akira patted her back, “Listen,” Akira pulled away at arm's length, “I never had your strength. In some ways, I’m a lot like mama in that way. You are strong enough to tell them your boundaries. And if they cannot accept it, then that’s their problem, not yours. If you want your ceremony the way you and Jackson want it then do it. It’s your night, not theirs.” Naomi nodded then hugged Akira again. They sat for another hour until Naomi had to leave for a dress fitting. The darkness stayed with Akira for the rest of the day, and she couldn’t shake it. All the memories she blocked out started flooding back to her, so much so that she couldn’t stop her crying. With a shaky breath, Akira called the only person she could think of, “Joonie?”

On the other end of the line, Namjoon could barely hear Akira’s voice as the Bangtan meeting room filled both his and the Wang pack grew rowdy. Yoongi caught sight of Namjoon’s concerned face as he tried exiting the room unnoticed. The rest of his members were in deep conversation, but he too slipped out unnoticed. Namjoon slightly paced out in the hall just as Yoongi closed the door behind him, “Babygirl I need you to breathe and tell me what’s wrong.” The sweet nickname alerted him to you, ‘Omega is upset! Is she hurt?!’.

“Stay where you are ok? I’m coming to get you.” Namjoon hung up then pulled his car keys out of his pocket. There was no way Yoongi wasn’t going with,

“I’m coming with you.” He knew his wolf wouldn’t settle until he laid eyes on you. Not in the mood for arguing, Namjoon said nothing as Yoongi followed him to the car. They wouldn’t normally leave without telling everyone where they were going, but the moment your scared voice traveled through Namjoon’s ears, there was no time for thinking. He just simply wanted to get to you. “What happened?!”

“I don’t know, she was crying and all she said was that she didn’t want to be alone.” Namjoon sped through traffic to reach the outer city limits to get to Akira at the urging of his wolf. He didn’t care how many laws he broke, as soon as he heard her cries, he fought off every instinct that wanted to run to her in his wolf form. After about thirty minutes , he finally made it to the Batiste estate and he entered the code to the gate, and drove past Akira’s old home to her grandmother’s. The minute Akira heard the car pull up, she ran outside to meet Namjoon. He didn’t even shut off the car before climbing out of the driver’s side and running smack into her, pulling her into his arms until her legs crossed around his waist.

“Joonie!” Akira buried her face in his neck, the tears never ending. Yoongi slowly climbed out of the car as he watched Namjoon cradle her to his body. One arm locked around her middle, holding her in place while the other tried brushing her tears away, “Shh, I’m here now Akira. And look, even Yoongi came along.” Akira looked up from the crook of his neck and stared at Yoongi. Yoongi’s heart broke seeing her face slowly redden and her tiny nose got the worst of it. He walked over and Akira let go of Namjoon and started crying harder once Yoongi held her. He kissed the side of her head, cheek bruising against her hair, “Tell us what happened, sweetheart.”

Akira tried calming her breathing as Yoongi wiped her face, “I-I c-cou—couldn’t stop.” Akira blew out a breath as she tried to focus, “I couldn’t stop thinking about my family and realized how much abuse I put up with. It wasn’t just my father, it-it—.” Akira could feel herself about to cry again. Yoongi shushed her again, pulling her closer. His calming scent pushed out more as he tried to calm her. Akira tried breathing on her own, the hyperventilating hiccups slowed dramatically. “I can’t be here right now, please, please—I don’t wanna be here!”

“It’s ok, you don’t have to be. Get what you need so we can go.” Namjoon had already decided he wasn’t leaving her alone. Akira never let go of Yoongi's hand. He followed her up until she stopped at her bedroom door; a sour look still remained on her face as she grabbed a sweater, house keys, and wrote a small note for her grandmother later. She then grabbed her phone and hurried out the door. By the time they arrived back at Bangtan home, Akira was fast asleep. Namjoon carried her in and slept on the couch for hours,“She’s been sleeping for a long time, is she supposed to sleep this long? Should we wake her?”

Around Akira, the Bangtan pack stood, hovering quietly as Jungkook worried about her sleeping. The slightest shiver had Jin throwing a blanket over immediately. The meeting long over once they realized Namjoon and Yoongi left. They watched Akira snuggle further into the couch, twisting slightly. Namjoon sighed,

“She was really upset earlier so no, don’t wake her.” Jungkook nodded, listening to his hyung. “I didn’t realize how deep her trauma with her family was.”

“None of us did.” Hoseok replied, “Whatever this is, it extends much deeper than her father’s reasons.”

“I have no doubt her brothers are behind it.” Taehyung added as he watched Yoongi lift Akira’s head up and place it on his lap. One by one they each sat, surrounding her, “Especially Malik, I can feel it.”

“Why do you suppose they do it? Her siblings, I mean.” Jimin questioned, worry brushed across his face as he watched Akira frown in her sleep. The tiny whimpers alerted them, making Yoongi rub her shoulder.

“Fear of rejection from their father most likely.” Jin shrugged, “It happens with a more dominant alpha, they will scare submission into their pack. He probably uses Akira as an example of what will happen if they don’t submit. Her being human was just an added bonus.” Jin surmised, watching as Akira settled against Yoongi, curling her body further into a ball.

“I wonder what prompted this attack.” Jimin worried.

“Her sister Naomi was there, I could smell her.” Yoongi replied, “Maybe they were talking and got into it, I don’t know, but whatever it was, it left Akira crying.” He ran his fingers across her now tear stained cheek. Akira snuggled closer, feeling how warm he was.

“I swear this family of hers leaves so much damage in their wake.” Jimin groaned, annoyed. “I know it’s selfish but maybe when she’s with us, we can convince her to cut them off.”

“I have no doubt she would.” Jin spoke calmly, “Doesn’t seem like it would take much effort on her end at this point.”

“So how do we fix it?” Taehyung asked.

Jin sighed, “That, I’m not sure of.”

— — —

“What do you think, guys? Do I look good enough for my date with Jimin?”

Akira was all excited for her date with Jimin this warm Friday evening. After spending time in their den, Akira felt as though the anguish she felt days before were gone. She had never been to their home, but she instantly felt safe and comfortable. It made her thrilled for her date, “I hope it’s not too much.”

He wanted her dressed up so he sent a dress and heels for her. Akira had never been in designer clothing so beautiful that it felt feather light on her skin. She couldn’t believe that he had such a good eye for details, getting her measurements just right. She twirled around in her dress when Namjoon asked, giving him, Taehyung, Hoseok, Yoongi, Jin and Jungkook a show. The dress was a deep navy floor length dress with a sweetheart neckline, butterfly sleeves, and two long slits near the thighs. The dress hugged her curves, making her statuesque.

“Fuck me she looks incredible” Yoongi murmured deeply, his accent sounding richer through the phone, making Jin swat his arm. Akira tilted her head, frowning a little,

“What? You guys don’t like it? Jimin picked it out for me…” Akira’s frown deepened, twiddling with nails.

“No, babygirl you look stunning, truly.” Namjoon assured her, making the others agree immediately.

“Jimin did an amazing job, fuck.” Jungkook tilted his head, trying to see all of Akira’s curves. Taehyung rolled his eyes before smacking Jungkook upside his head, making him howl and Akira gasp,

“Don’t objectify her, fool.” Jungkook pouted in the camera, making Akira pout as well.

“Nooo, it’s ok Kookie, thank you for the compliment.” By now, the familiarity between the eight of them had grown, making nicknames a common thing. Akira’s nicknames ranged from babygirl to jagiya, all sweet and endearing. “I feel kinda nervous. I always feel nervous on our dates.”

“Why, you’ve been on four now.” Hoseok laughed, making Akira giggle.

“It’s because it’s a different feeling with each of you. It’s a first date each time. Each one feels special to me…” Akira stared at the floor. Each man blushed at her sweet words, even Jin and Jungkook, who have yet to have their dates with her. They couldn’t wait their turn.

“Well I think Jimin will be nothing but a gentleman with you, and he’ll be very excited for tonight as well.” Jin expressed, bowing slightly. Before Akira could reply, a bubbly response waiting to be spilled, she—along with the guys—heard a loud bang; the sound of a door crashing made Akira jump with fright. The force rattled the walls, nearly making her phone fall off the ledge of the full length mirror in her room, “Akira, what’s going?’ What was that sound?!” Namjoon panicked.

Akira stuttered, “I-I d-don—I don’t know—!”

“AKIRA!!!”

Akira’s eyes widened as recognition struck her. She knew that voice. Knew it well. “Father?” Her voice dropped to a whisper. Akira was all alone, her grandmother out with her mother, trying to fix final touches for Naomi’s ceremony. What could he possibly want with Akira if he washed his hands of her?

“Akira, get out of the house!” Hoseok screamed over FaceTime.

“We’re on our way to you, just get out of the house!” Jungkook screamed, leaving the camera’s view.

“AKIRA I KNOW YOU’RE HERE! I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME, I CAN SMELL YOU!” Her father Joseph growled, holding back his wolf.

“Baby, if you can hear me, I’m going to mute us, you just keep us on the phone!” Namjoon urged her. Shakily, Akira grabbed her phone and nodded. She quickly sent a message to her grandmother, before the door to her room blew off, splintering at the seams, making her scream. Joseph and Malik stood at her doorway; her father visibly shaking with anger.

On the other end of the phone, her pack froze in horror at her scream. They could hear Joseph shouting obscenely at her, raging at something that he felt was her fault, “YOU HAD TO RUIN YOUR SISTER’S MOMENT, HUH?! YOU COULDN’T LET HER HAVE A CEREMONY WORTHY OF GODS?!” Akira backed away from him, nearly tripping from her dress if it wasn’t for Malik grabbing her roughly. He almost looked ashamed but it was quickly masked with cold green eyes.

“Ah! Malik let go of me! I don't know what you’re talking about!” “Akira’s phone dropped to the floor, still on call with Namjoon. Once Jimin was told what was happening, he quickly got dressed from his shower and raced downstairs to join them in their van. Jin drove, racing through the streets, passing through red lights to get to her. Meanwhile, Hoseok flinched at the sound of Akira’s screams as Joseph slapped her. “Please, I don’t know what’s happening!” Akira cried.

“This, you devious little piece of shit!” Joseph pushed a piece of paper in her face, nearly bruising her nose, “YOU’RE THE FUCKING REASON NAOMI RAN OFF WITH JACKSON! YOU ARE A CURSE ON THIS FAMILY, I FUCKING SWEAR!”

Tears trailed down her face, hiccups escaped as Malik threw her down on the floor. Akira picked up the paper, her eyes widening at each line;

Dear Father,

I know that you and mama and Jackson’s parents made this grand event for us. While we’re grateful and appreciative, it’s what neither of us wanted. I have always been a simple woman, and have never craved attention-seeking moments like this family does, time and time again. After talking with Akira, she made me realize that my vision for our crossing over ceremony was what I always wanted. And that my voice mattered, even when drowned out by you and mama. She is the sole reason Jackson and I decided we want to do what’s best for us. Her belief in me made me realize I have a voice, and I intend to use it. Jackson and I will not continue with the spectacle that is this crossing over ceremony. In a way, we’ve decided to elope. Please don’t be angry.

Naomi.

Akira couldn’t believe what she was reading. Curse her trusting nature, she hated herself for giving Naomi the benefit of the doubt. She now realizes that the one trick Betas always had was to be cunning. They always planned ahead, every step meticulous. She had been used as a pawn the moment Naomi got wind of their parents’ ceremonial plans. The ultimate scapegoat that fueled their father’s hatred of Akira. “No…N-No, father I knew nothing about this, I swear—AH!” A punch landed square to her jaw as Joseph socked her. Akira tries crawling away, begging him to not hurt her, “Father, I didn’t tell her to run, I swear!”

“I am no longer your father, you little runt! From now on, the name Batiste is stripped from you! You had every intention of causing trouble, Naomi wouldn’t lie about this!” Akira gasped as Joseph reached out and grabbed her by her hair. Her cries echoed on the other end of the phone that Namjoon nearly crushes, trying desperately to control his wolf.

“Even with all the lights we speed through, we won’t get there in time.” Yoongi growled, eyes flickering their dark brown to blood red. Each passing second, they could hear Akira scream in agony. The sound of flesh colliding with flesh; deep groans escaping from her as her father did who knows what to her.

Meanwhile, Akira laid on the floor, curled in a ball as she tried to ward off another kick to the ribs. Joseph Batiste was angrier than he had ever been, pissed beyond all belief. Blood trickled from her lips as she tried shielding herself from his and Malik’s attacks. Her ears were ringing, leaving her slightly disoriented. With a little bit of strength, Akira tried crawling to the door, but Malik stopped her, stepping on her dress. The fabric ripped, making the one of the slits widen and stretch. “You know, since the day you were born, you have been a stain on my life. A human shit stain that’s been the bane of my existence—I knew I should’ve taken you out to the woods and left your ass for dead the day you didn’t present as a wolf!” Spittle flew from Joseph’s lips as he got in Akira’s face. Akira cried once more, whimpering then wailing, shouting her innocence, “I never told Naomi to run! I never told her to disobey you, please, plea—!” Akira gagged as Joseph grabbed her by the throat, punching her and slapping her until she nearly fought unconsciousness.

“YOU’RE A FUCKING LIAR! AND WHAT’S WORSE IS YOU’RE A FUCKING MISTAKE!” Akira tiredly let go “I was perfectly content with the four children I had, but no, your mother just had to have another! I should’ve made her abort your sorry ass!” Another slap made blood splatter onto the floor. Weakly, Akira started going limp. Joseph took his rage out on her, kicking her and slapping her repeatedly until crying stopped. Blood smeared on the floor and on her tattered dress; contusions and scratches littered her body. Joseph wouldn’t stop until Malik stopped him,

“Father, that’s enough, we have to go.” Neither realizing that Akira’s phone had scattered beneath the bed, still on call with the Bangtan pack. They were stunned into silence; their faces twisted in horror as Jin had to pull over from driving, becoming sick at the sounds of gurgling agony and cracking of bones. Joseph had beaten Akira before, but never to this extent. Never to the point where she was on the verge of losing consciousness. Even Malik had seen enough.

Joseph huffed and puffed like the big bad wolf he claimed to be as Akira laid motionless on the floor, “May you remember the day you no longer remained a Batiste. You are dead to me.” He seethed, giving her one last kick, this time to the face. Malik flinched, turning away. The wet squelch of blood pouring onto the floor made him gag, “Father let’s go, grandmother will be home soon.”

Joseph and Malik left the room, leaving Akira laying on the floor. Her gurgled gasps as she struggled to breathe was the only thing Bangtan could hear as Yoongi took over driving, racing to her home. He knew they’d make it there before her grandmother, who they unfortunately had to explain all this to. Once they finally made it to the compound, Yoongi quickly typed in the code and sped past several houses to get to Akira. He couldn’t even park without the guys jumping out immediately, racing through the broken front door. The smell of blood alerted them, making them call out for Akira. Jungkook raced down a hallway until he reached the doorway of her room, recoiling back with a loud curse before calling for Namjoon, “JOON!”

Each head popped in Jungkook’s direction, racing down the hall until they were met with a gruesome sight. Body tangled on the floor in a small pool of her own blood, Akira laid gasping. A small white letter a few feet away from her. Dress torn and stained; the strong coppery smell permeated the room.

“Oh my fuck!” Namjoon cursed, reeling away before turning back to enter the room. He kneeled down in front of Akira, her line of vision temporarily blurred. She could sense a presence but couldn’t see them, making her tense and whimper loudly, “Shhhh, it’s us beautiful, it’s us.” He whispered delicately. Tears blurred in her eyes but no sound other than a whimper could escape. Her throat raw from being squeezed too tight. Eyes swelling and blurring over to where she couldn’t make out who was in front of her.

Suddenly a car pulled up, “Sounds like her grandmother pulled up.” Taehyung uttered coldly.

“Akira! Akira, little wolf where are—oh my god!” Her grandmother’s gasp was horrified at what she saw.

“Careful, we don’t know if he severed anything.” Hoseok told Namjoon as he went to pick up her body. Usually never one to show his emotions, Namjoon fought back tears as his mate laid on the floor in pain. Carefully? He grabbed hold of her hand,

“Baby, can you hear me?” He asked gently. Shakily, Akira squeezed his hand. “Can you speak?” Her hand remained lax. “Can you wiggle your toes?” They watched as her toes slowly curled from both feet.”

“I can smell her father and Malik all through this room. They did this, didn’t they?” Her grandmother questioned, eyes glimmering faintly of a purple hue. With bowed heads, some with tears in their eyes, the men nodded yes. The sudden rush of steps had them all in a tense stance as a shrill scream left Miriam's lips. Dealing with final touches for Naomi’s ceremony, Miriam asked Genevieve to tag along and to naturally see how Akira was doing. When Genevieve received the message she got, Miriam responded quickly by hopping in the car with her, no questions asked. It was her daughter that was in danger after all. “Oh god, who did this?!”

“Take a wild guess.” Jungkook turned coldly, staring furiously at her. Jin held him back, telling him to calm down. Namjoon gently placed one hand under Akira’s neck. Her whimpers grew louder as pain shot through her body. While Namjoon made a move to pick her up, Hoseok saw a glimmer of white through his bloodshot eyes. He picked up the piece of paper, corners stained and smudged with blood. He read over it, cursing under his breath as he realized what had happened,

“Did you know about this?” He questioned her mother, turning to her with the most foul expression he could give, “Hm? Did you know that Naomi and Jackson eloped?!!”

“What?!” Miriam baulkes, snatching the letter out of his hand. Miriam and Genevieve read it carefully, anger flashing before their eyes before the realization hit that Naomi’s leaving triggered Joseph’s anger. “S-She eloped…She ran away?!”

“We need to get her to a hospital, now.” Namjoon urged.

— — —

“Three broken ribs, orbital bone fracture, sprained wrist and ankle, plus, surprisingly, a mild concussion. Not to mention a broken nose and a swollen larynx from her throat being nearly crushed—we’re lucky you got here in time or the internal bleeding could’ve been worse.”

The doctor looked around the hospital room as the saddest expressions he'd seen filled the space. Genevieve held her granddaughter’s hand. Yoongi paced the floor, restless, while everyone found a seat where they could. Namjoon sat on the side of Akira, watching her rest. Miriam sat outside the room, crying, as if not believing her husband could do such a thing. It had been hours since Akira came out of surgery, and the worse had yet to come.

“You said she’s your mate?” The doctor asked, looking at Namjoon.

“Yes.” All seven men answered, surprising the doctor. He sighed,

“You said she was attacked? Why hasn’t she been mated then?”

“Yes, she was randomly attacked and she’s a human. We can’t bite her, plus our crossing ceremony wasn’t until the end of the month.” Namjoon answered aggressively, already agitated by the doctor’s questioning, trying to avoid the actual truth of the matter. Namjoon wanted to handle Joseph on his own, no police involved. He delicately moved hair out of Akira’s face, “We followed the rules. She should’ve been with us soon enough.”

“Given the extent of her injuries, you’ll need to keep an eye on her a lot more once she’s released. We’ve also irrigated her eyes so that she could see, some debris was in there. Her vision might be hazy for a couple of days.” After the doctor explained the aftercare Akira would need, he left. Silence engulfed them. The steady beep of the heart monitor droned on as they breathing labor either withheld or steadied.

“She’s gonna be ok.” Jungkook tried to rally his mind with his heart, willing for a positive outcome as tears welled in his eyes, “She’ll be ok.”

“Yeah pup,” Jin whispered, his hand clapping Jungkook’s back, “She’ll be fine, it’s alright.” Jin pulled him into a hug as his lips trembled, tears finally breaking for a release.

“She’s living with us once she’s released from the hospital. It’s not up for discussion.” Namjoon spoke calmly, yet there was an eerie edge to his voice. A darkness that only his pack understood. He spoke directly to Genevieve, “And your son? He’s as good as dead.”

Genevieve didn’t flinch, “You see me stopping you?” She muttered back, “Whatever happens now, it’s out of my hands.” She turned to her granddaughter, a steely coldness to her voice, “Because if he isn’t dealt with, I’ll take the motherfucka out myself.” The son she raised was no longer there. Any trace of her husband, lost within him.

The men all stood around, shocked and bewildered. They had never seen a mother turn on their own child before. Everyone assumed that Genevieve was a sweet, doting grandmother, but no one knew that she ran everything. “Leave everyone else to me.” Genevieve Batiste was an OG. And her son forgot who he was fucking with, “Don’t worry, little wolf. It’s being handled.” She leaned over and whispered to Akira. Kissing the top of her head, Genevieve then stood straight, grabbed her bag, and exited the room, the men quickly moving out her way. Jimin checked the hallway, seeing Genevieve and Miriam leaving.

“You really think she’s gonna let her own son get killed?” Taehyung questioned, shock and confusion written on his face.

“For Akira, she’d burn the earth.” Yoongi muttered quietly.

They all stared at Akira in silence. Jin slowly walked to the other side of the bed, resting his hands on the bed. They watched as her chest rose and fell softly. Concern blanketed them at her quiet wheezing, as if she was struggling to breathe. Once the beatings began, Akira did the only thing she knew how to do, and it was to disassociate. She stopped fighting. She had given up and let Joseph take control. And since then, she’s been unconscious ever since. She could disappear and feel safe in her own dreams because it was there, Joseph could not hurt her. Malik couldn’t hurt her. Naomi couldn’t hurt her.

No one could.

[joonslfttiddie]

Be Mine

Eleven

💜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: 4,143

Kamryn Graham

Kamryn. I’m so sorry.

The words lingered in her mind as she opened her eyes. Everything felt distorted—her emotions, her trust, her vision. Blurry at first, but after a few blinks, it began to clear. Looking around the room, she found herself still at Jimin’s place, fully dressed, and laid across his sofa with a soft throw blanket arranged neatly over her legs. Across the room, she saw him squatting down, cleaning something from the floor. Thump. Thump. Thump. Her heart pounded against her ribcage. It was so loud she wouldn’t be surprised if he could hear it. And he must have as his head whipped around, eyes meeting hers. There he was–her Jimin. That person from before? Nowhere to be found.

There he is.

“Kamryn.” He dropped what sounded like fragments of glass clattering in a dustpan, then rushed to her side. When she involuntarily flinched, shifting her body away from him, his jaw clenched. Confusion flickered across his face. But it didn’t last. Pain followed. Then regret. Then, the crushing weight of self-loathing. Each emotion surfaced in waves as if he couldn’t stop them from showing. The sight almost made her cry for him as the emotions radiated off of him and through their connection. “Kamryn. Fuck. I- I’m so sorry, Kam,” he said while searching her face. Was he looking for the same hate he felt for himself? He wouldn’t find it. While Kamryn felt that he purposely tried to intimidate her, that he wanted to hurt her, that he hated her–she didn’t hate him.

Jimin lent his strength when he noticed she was trying to sit up. She sat there, eyes on the blanket, fiddling with her fingernails again. Jimin took her hands in his, still kneeling in front of her, silencing her nervous fidgeting with his firm grip.

A sound fell from her lips—something between a laugh and a sob as if her body was unsure of how to react. “Jimin. What the fuck was that?” Her voice quivered slightly, and tears began to dance in her eyes.

“I’m so sorry. I never wanted you to see me that way. The darkness… I’m usually able to control it, command it, but lately, my powers have been glitchy. Like they want to control me instead. Fuck.” He paused for a moment while Kamryn observed him. He was fidgety. Shifty. Uncomfortable. Jimin looked deeply remorseful, and she could identify the guilt that weighed heavy on him.

“I’m not talking about that. I know what the fuck that was.” She paused for what seemed like minutes. “Why did you do that to me?” Her voice cracked, and it felt as if someone was squeezing her heart. “You did that on purpose, Jimin. It felt like…like you hated me.” The shock that flowed through their connection was the validation she needed. Even if it were for a split second, he despised her, resented her, and wanted her to feel it. Well, he succeeded.

“Honestly, I don’t know what to say. At this point, anything I say will just be an excuse.”

“Say something…anything.” The last word came out on a breath, barely audible.

“I don’t know. I was stupid. I– For a moment,” he stammered, still holding tightly onto her fingers. “Kamryn. I can feel myself…changing. I told you that I wanted to be good for you, but all of the emotions that come with that are foreign to me. It’s like two people inside of me. Like I'll be ripped apart at any moment. My heart. My soul. My mind. There are moments where my evil resents you, and I fucking hate myself. This is so hard, and thoughts have crossed my mind, making me wonder if it is all worth it.” He pulls her hands to his forehead as if praying to the goddess that has captivated his heart. He then places tender kisses on the backs of her hands. “Please. I still want to be good for you. I want to love you in ways neither of us knew possible. But-” When he looks into her eyes, the tears he’d be trying to fight have gathered to fall down his face. His voice is raspy and forced when he speaks. “I’m scared.”

Did he think this would make her fold? While she appreciated his vulnerability, she couldn’t let him off like this.

“Scared? You’re scared, Jimin?” She scoffed. “I thought I was going to die,” she nearly whispered as tears continued to fall into her lap. Her body reacted the way it should have, as if she was in immediate danger, face-to-face with a demon. “Do you even know what that felt like? I chose to trust you, and for a moment, you made me regret that.” The heartache caused by that sentence transmitted from Jimin and caused fresh tears to fall from her eyes. “I thought I’d made a mistake.” Even in that situation, with his distorted features and horrifying words, she trusted him. She knew that he wouldn’t hurt her and found herself experiencing all his suffering from his inner turmoil. He was trying so hard. So hard to resist the malevolent pull that their bond trembled violently. The words that he spoke aloud during that moment contradicted his inner dialogue.

Jimin, pull yourself together! You’re scaring her. Look at her sweet face…she’s terrified. The way you’re treating her right now. Is this what love looks like? Stop!

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what made me think I could do this. I can’t do this, Kamryn.”

“Can’t do what?”

This.

Nah. Fuck that. Man the fuck up and say that shit out loud.

His eyebrow lifted in response, but it was so quick Kamryn felt that she could have imagined it. His grip on her hands tightened, both because he didn’t want to say the words aloud and because he loved when she spoke so confidently. She was so powerful, so unrelenting, so direct. So…demanding. And he loved that shit.

“I just don’t want to hurt you. I can’t be with you when I’m like this.” He looked over himself as if his flaws were visible on his skin.

“Like what? What Jimin?! Didn’t you tell me that this is just how you are, light and dark? Up and down? In and out, right? You can’t change who you are; we both know that, but you will change the way you treat me. I won’t tolerate that shit again. You will not purposely put me in that situation again. And if you don’t want to hurt me, Jimin… don’t.” The commanding simplicity of her words lingered between them as he looked into her eyes.

The heat coming from him caused her breathing to hitch as her nipples began to tingle and harden beneath her dress. She didn’t want to think of what was happening between her thighs as she’d opted against wearing panties. As if on cue, she could see in his eyes when he realized what was happening to her body–he could smell the lust on her. The sexual tension was palpable, an involuntary craving for one another that neither of them could stop, even mid-confrontation. “Let go of my hands,” Kamryn spat.

“Yes, ma’am,” Jimin answered with a growl, falling right in line with Kamryn’s orders.

“Shut up. That wasn’t a question.” With his head hanging low, he remained silent this time. “Do you hear me speaking to you? Look at me.”

“Yes, ma’am. I can hear you,” he answered, this time with unwavering eye contact that caused Kamryn to shudder.

“After the way you acted today, do you think you deserve to touch me?”

“No, ma’am. I don’t.” While she had him eating out of the palm of her hand, she could discern that there was something else behind his answer. He was trying to let her go because he didn’t think he deserved her.

“Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t ask you to think for me, huh?” Kamryn continued to tease him, using her hand to fan herself as she removed the blanket from her lap, revealing the sun-kissed glow of her moisturized legs. Her skin was a rich chocolate that closely mimicked the hue of the leather couch she sat on. And Jimin responded immediately; though she was unable to see the erection growing under his slacks, the desire growing between them was nearly tangible. Her confidence grew, and she felt like she could do anything under his gaze. Thoughts were going through her mind that she’d never even thought to consider, but she felt comfortable enough with him to say and do as she pleased. “And why are you trying to look all pitiful kneeling down like that? Should I pity you, baby?” Her head tilted with an analyzing gaze scanning his body like a lioness inspecting her prey.

“Ye- No, ma’am,” Jimin tried to answer, obviously distracted and confused as to which question he should answer.

“Ye—No—” she mocked, dragging it out with a smirk. “What’s wrong, baby? Cat got your tongue?”

After clearing his throat and attempting to clear his mind, he answered, “Yes, ma’am, it is a good thing you didn’t ask me to think. I’m not trying to look pitiful, and I don’t think you should pity me at all. The cat does not have my tongue.”

She snickered, then said, “Not yet, at least.” The surge of hunger that flowed through their bond and the flash of gold in Jimin’s eyes had Kamryn leaking, ready, and having a hard time stalling him out. With the point of her heel, she dug gently into his thigh. “What the fuck are you thinking about, huh? I am highly aware of what you have going on, remember?”

There was no way he could deny it. He frowned from the pain, but it also made it dick twitch. "I want you so badly, but I’m trying to restrain myself. I know you are aware of my feelings.” She could tell that Jimin was fighting for his fucking life; his composure was like putty in her hands.

“But you want me to feel you in a different way, huh? Tell me about that. What do you want me to feel, Jimin?” Her voice brushed over him like a cool breeze, a wave of desire rushed through them again, causing them both to shiver.

“I- I…” He swallows around the lump in his throat, “I want you to feel me… dipping into your wet pussy slowly. Until you’re full of me, ma'am. With each stroke, I want you to be aware of every ridge… every vein… every inch of my dick sliding in and out of your wetness. Caressing your walls as I make my way to the very depths of you. I want it to sting just a bit.” His voice has that familiar crackle, like burning embers in his throat. “But, only enough to make your pretty mouth fall open–a moaning mess underneath me–calling out my name. Inconceivable pleasure flooding and intoxicating you. I want you to have earth-shattering orgasms that leave you sopping wet, sated, yet still begging me for more. Over… and over… and over again until you’re crying, desperate that I stop. Ma’am.”

At this point, both of them were nearly gasping for air. Her eyes were heavy with want as she stared at him through her lashes. Kamryn had nearly climaxed from his words alone, and she could feel her slick pooled between her, her dress, and the couch. She dragged her heel from his thigh, slow and deliberate, skimming up his torso until it pressed into his chest. He held firm, not wavering from the pressure. It was as if the anticipation of her next move was suffocating, and his chest heaved as he panted faster.

With one firm push, she knocked him flat on his back, the impact rippling through them both. The slight pain she’d just caused came to burn alongside her need for him in the pit of her belly, but she wouldn’t give in that easily. Not today. Now standing, she towered over him and shoved her heel in the same place she just kicked. This point of view allowed him a direct view of her sopping wet, glistening pussy and the wetness that leisurely dripped down her thigh.

“Did you seriously think that would turn me on?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“It looks like it turned you on.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thoughts of you always do.”

“Shut up,” she snapped, twisting the heel deeper into his chest. “Always got some bullshit apologies or something charming to say, huh? Maybe I should put that mouth to better use.” With her hand on her chin, she pretended as if she was in deep thought before coming to an epiphany. “Hmm. Let’s see how sorry you are. You want to be a good boy for me?”

Kamryn straddled Jimin’s nodding head, her heeled feet planted just above his shoulders while he looked up in sheer amazement. “I will admit. I’m willing to do anything and everything you ask of me. But this? Tasting you on my tongue is something I will do because I want to… need to. So,” he said, caressing her legs, “May I taste you, Miss Kamryn?” Without a word, she sank to her knees, her legs maneuvered under his arms, and she lifted herself above him. She saw his eyes darken with desire just as her dress covered his face like a veil. With his shoulders wedged between her calves, now resting on either side of him, he held her by the waist, guiding her body to sit completely onto his waiting mouth. She allowed him to consume her. His hands roamed, gripping and kneading the softness of her thighs as he lapped, sucked, and dipped his tongue in and out of her pussy like a man who’d studied her anatomy–studied how she likes to be eaten–for years.

Hastily bunching her dress in one hand, she needed a clear view, no longer obscuring her sight of the fiend beneath her. His eyes were closed, but when he suddenly opened them to look at her, she gasped as he was seemingly looking into her soul. Still caught off guard by the new golden hue-he was hypnotizing. His tongue circled her clit before she pulled away, leaning back to rest her ass on his chest.

Ravenously, he stared up at her as she admired the sheen on his face caused by her juices. With a wicked smirk, she pulled the strap of her dress down her arm, allowing the fabric to slack, revealing the swell of her breast. With one hand, she pinched and twisted her nipple, and with the other, she fisted his hair, guiding him back where she needed him most. She placed him at her entrance, shivering as he traced her inner lips before plunging his tongue back inside.

Her body responded immediately, legs quivering due to his relentless ministrations. “Jimin,” she whispered but whined when he pulled away just as her orgasm was about to overtake her. Dragging out the moment, he sucked and licked at her lips, cleaning up after himself as if he couldn’t get enough. Just as she opened her mouth to protest, her breath hitched, and her eyes widened. Instead of running away, she remained. Spellbound. She watched as his tongue stretched unnaturally long–slithering back inside, deeper to tease at the base of her cervix, caressing her favorite spot. Her head fell back, and a sound she would usually be ashamed of crawled up her throat–deep and guttural– as she unabashedly rocked into him, surrendering to his hunger.

“Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit,” she groaned breathily; using his locks as reins, she pulled him deeper as she rocked her hips to ride his face. She was about to cum, and of course, he knew, indicated by the low, throaty growl he released. The sound caused the hairs on her neck to stand, and as he continued to groan in delight, it sent her over the edge.

“Fuuuuuuuck,” she moaned as she came long and hard, spilling satisfaction across his tongue. Jimin didn’t let a drop of her go to waste as he drank her in, slowing down but never stopping as she trembled and convulsed above him. Kamryn’s phone vibrated in her purse on the table but she couldn’t be bothered at the moment as she continued to ride out her high.

Pulling air between her teeth, she reveled in the pleasure being administered as she winded her hips. Each time her clit brushed against his upper lip, her second orgasm continued to build as surges of electricity coursed through her body.

“Just like that. Eat this pussy, baby. I deserve it.” And Jimin obliged, wanting nothing more than to please her, swallowing all that she had to offer him. She knew he was at the edge of his own climax, and the feeling only intensified the moment. Minutes later, another wave came crashing against her, sending her under to succumb to its pressure. She breathed deeply, savoring the feel of his tongue slathering pleasure within her walls until she was satiated. “Okay. Okay, that’s enough,” Kamryn moaned from the overstimulation. He didn’t stop, instead pulling her tighter, continuing to devour her like she was the only thing keeping him alive.

Hungry. Need…to feed. 

The slight smirk that graced his face, for only a split second, was haunting.

Writhing, she tried to at least remove his suction as it was too much. His glowing eyes shined with a desire that was unfamiliar as his nails bit into her skin as if staking his claim. “That’s enough,” she whined, but it was as if he was in a trance, unable to hear her words– only focused on savoring her taste.

More.

“Jimin. Stop!”

That seemed to do the trick as he released her clit with a pop. His head fell back to thud against the floor as he stared up into nothingness, mouth still wet from her. It was like he wasn't there-just a void shell of the man that she'd grown to know. A gold shimmer traced his irises before they settled back to the rich honey Kamryn was used to, as if he was returning to himself. Her pulse was still racing, but now, it wasn’t just from pleasure.

“What the fuck, Jimin?” She moved to sit next to him on the floor as her legs continued to tremble, not just from the overstimulation. There was something darker. The deviant hunger remained, clinging to her. “You didn’t stop.” Her voice wasn’t angry but quiet. Completely unnerved.

“I–” He shook his head as if he was unsure of what words should follow. She studied their connection and his face, watching as his jaw flexed before he shook his head again. She found no regret, no remorse, no shame–there was only confusion. Like he was just as lost as she was, unsure of what had just happened to him.

Tracing the dents left by his grip on her thighs with her fingertips, she said, “That wasn’t you just being stubborn, Jimin.”

“I know,” he admitted quietly.

Releasing a shaky breath, Kamryn found a cozy spot next to Jimin and cuddled into his side–an attempt to push the moment away for now. Without thought, he pulled her into him. Closer. Tighter, as if she was the only thing keeping him tethered to himself. She laid on his chest, unable to quiet the thoughts in her mind, humming to keep them to herself for the moment. Was this a sign to stop? To stop trying to step into her power? She knew it would be impossible to stop dealing with Jimin. They were in too deep, literally bound together. What has she gotten herself into, and what kind of monster had she created?

Unable to see his face, she was also unable to see the tears that filled his eyes as he stared at the ceiling, rubbing his fingertips across her scalp through her thick cloud of curls. They both laid there in silence as their breathing evened and their pulses slowed, pretending as if they both didn’t feel the shift that just occurred. This was more than a game of give and take—more than just an exchange of power.

The silence was broken, startling Kamryn when her phone vibrated in her purse again. Then again. And again.

“Fuck. May I use your restroom,” she asked politely like she wasn’t just barking commands and grinding her pussy on his lips.

”Ye- Yes, of course.” She stood, grabbed her phone, then slowly made her way to the bathroom. When she returned, Jimin was sitting in the spot she found herself earlier, manspreading with his elbows on his thighs and his head in his hands. He seemed to be in deep thought until he saw her coming closer with a look of concern on her face. “A- Are you leaving?”

“Why isn’t she picking up after calling so many times? Mariah asked to meet her at Clove at 6:30, right?” Kamryn questioned aloud. “It’s only 6:13,” she mentioned, her heart racing as she dialed her friend back again. Finally, she answered. “Mariah? Mariah. Why are you crying? What's wrong? What? Who is that? I can barely hear you. Hey, who is this? What’s going on? Are you at Clove now? Okay, please stay with her. I’m coming.” The other person puts Mariah back on the line. “Everything is going to be okay. I’ll be there in just a bit. No. No, I won’t hang up,” she continued her conversation, finding herself whispering along with her friend.

She looked at Jimin, her hand trembling as she held onto the phone as if it were a lifeline. In a way, it was, anchoring Mariah to her.

Will you help me? Please?

Of course! Let’s go.

Grabbing his keys from a side table, the pair rushed out of the door. Jimin pulled her toward the stairs.

“We have to go, Jimin. I need to get to Mariah.”

“I know. Trust me, okay?”

She nodded but hesitated to take his hand reaching out for her. Something was off with him. And trust? Trust was something so very fragile between them at the moment, yet she allowed him to lead her into the stairwell. It wasn’t long before she realized why as he picked her up, causing her to gasp in surprise and close her eyes, awaiting what was to happen next. Suddenly, she could feel wind whipping through her hair, then…nothing. She opened her eyes to see that they were already on the ground floor. How had they gotten here so fast? Faster than humanly possible and certainly quicker than it would have taken for the elevator doors to even open.

Kamryn’s panic after hearing her friend’s voice, so small and helpless, didn’t leave a moment for her body to react to the sudden change in speed, to even ask questions, or even be surprised by this. Though, she could tell that something was wrong as they made their way to Jimin’s car.

“Jimin?” She whispered away from the phone.

“Let’s go, Kamryn.”

She slid into the passenger seat and watched as he jogged to his side before getting in.

“Are you okay? Something seems–”

“Fine,” he said dismissively.

They rode in silence and were pulling up to Clove within ten minutes.

Park Jimin

The fear and worry that tugged at their connection had Jimin just as focused as Kamryn, trying to get to Mariah as quickly as possible. But something else was pulling him there. An excuse. He needed to release. There was too much power surging through him, and he was coming to realize where it was coming from. Kamryn. She was changing him in more ways than one, and while on some days he felt like he was becoming a little bitch, other days he found himself out of control of the hellhound that threatened to eat him whole. This was something he’d never experienced, a power that may be too much for him to handle.

When they pulled up, Jimin followed Kamryn as she rushed through the small crowd, making her way to the women's restroom. Like her own personal bodyguard, Jimin waited outside the entrance when she burst into the bathroom, yelling out for her friend.

“Oh my God! Jimin!” Kamryn’s shrill cry was all he needed to hear before rushing in behind her. Inside one of the stalls, Kamryn had found her friend slumped, fully clothed, on the toilet. She looked confused and weak like she would pass out any second, barely holding on to her phone. “Mariah, what happened? Are you okay? Did somebody hurt you?” Mariah was slurring, hardly even mumbling at this point, as her eyes roamed around the stall aimlessly. Next to the stall stood the lady who was on the phone earlier, dressed like the other bartenders.

“She came in with another girl, but she had to leave. When she did, a guy joined her at the bar, and they had a drink. She didn’t even finish hers but seemed to get drunk instantly. I knew something was wrong when she slid from the barstool to stagger her way here. I grabbed her things, including her drink, and put them behind the bar before I followed her back here. She asked me not to call an ambulance.”

“Oh my God, Riah, baby. What happened?”

That word kept pulling him out of the moment. God. God? This was the second time she’d called out for Them, yet he was the only one there to help. He scoffed.

“I’ve seen this so many times. I believe that she’s been drugged. I was just about to give her a piece of bread with hot sauce. Then an aspirin and a bottle of water.”

Kamryn looked around to find the items the woman had mentioned and the piece of bread in a napkin in her hand. “Girl, what the fuck does this have to do with anything? Bitch… hot sauce?”

“Answer her,” Jimin said calmly to the woman as he tilted his head menacingly. “Amy,” he said smugly after reading her name tag.

“I– It–”

“It, what?” Kamryn was obviously distraught.

“It– It’s a cocktail,” the woman said, but her words sounded more like a question than an answer. “It will help lessen the effects of the drug almost immediately. I promise.”

“Okay. Okay.” Kamryn gave her consent. Her uneasiness and fear only seemed to fuel the fury that raced through Jimin. Amy had Mariah take the pill and down it with some of the water before she fed her the red, soaked bread, which nearly made her vomit.

“I know it’s gross, but you have to eat as much as you can, okay?” Amy was very calm, instructing Mariah. After she’d finished most of the bread, she chugged the rest of the water, with a lot of it coming out the corners of her mouth. And just as Amy had promised, she seemed to be coming back.

“Riah. What happened?” Kamryn had her hands extended, ready to catch her friend as she slowly lifted herself from the seat with Amy’s assistance.

“What does the guy look like?” Jimin asked Amy while helping to move Mariah out of the stall and to the sink. Kamryn immediately enveloped Mariah in her arms, allowing her to cry as she shed hot tears of her own.

“Like a fucking ferret. It was fucking Jameel,” Mariah stated, muffled, with her face into Kamryn’s shoulder.

“Jameel?!” Kamryn obviously knew who Mariah was referring to. Jimin watched her eyes widen in the mirror at the revelation. She pulled her friend away to look her over, pushing her hair from her face and wiping her tears away. “Jameel, Jameel?”

“Yes,” Mariah said as her shoulder bounced from her sobs. “He asked if he could get me a drink. I agreed because I know him…I knew him. I thought I did. But after I drank half of it, I started to feel funny. He started talking about how he wanted me back. Of course, I declined, but he said to just wait. Like I didn’t have a choice. I shouldn’t have– I shouldn’t have–” She cried even harder, to the point where Kamryn just pulled her into her chest again.

“Shh…don’t you dare make this your fault. You did nothing wrong. He is the piece of shit. Not you,” Kamryn said while rubbing swipes up and down her friend’s back.

While Jimin hated to hear that something like this had happened to Mariah, he was thankful to Amy and glad to see that her concoction was working to neutralize the drug.

“Um, sorry guys, but I have to get back to the bar. Come find me to get your things and I would strongly recommend that you still go to the hospital to get checked out.” The woman exchanged hugs with Mariah and Kamryn while they expressed their gratitude.

“Thank you so much,” Mariah said through her tears. “Tonight could have ended very differently had you not helped me.”

Amy wiped a few rouge tears of her own before leaving the friends to continue where they’d left off. Mariah turned to splash cool water over her face.

“Jameel? What the fuck? We haven’t seen him since-”

“Since our six-month anniversary. Right. We were here, and his boy tried the same shit on you. I hadn’t talked to him since then when he reached out to me the day after, talking about how he was sorry about what happened and all this shit but wouldn’t give his boy’s name up so that we could press charges. Talking about how he ‘had been punished enough’. Whatever the fuck that means.”

Mariah and Kamryn were unaware, but Jimin knew exactly what he was referring to. He was talking about how he’d found his homeboy’s clothes folded in a bathroom stall with him still wearing them. Jimin was seething more by the minute. Kamryn felt it, grabbing his hand and squeezing it lightly.

Babe. Just say the word and I’ll handle it.

They locked eyes in the mirror over Mariah’s head as she dipped down to rinse her face again, and with a slow raise of her eyebrow, Kamryn smirked.

Show me.

Show you? Show you what?

His face mirrored hers; a grim smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

Show me your evil. Handle it.

Excitement burned through his veins like liquid fire. The presence inside him stirred, salivating, stretching its claws. It had been waiting for this. Waiting to be fed. Jimin turned on his heel, left the bathroom, and slipped into the crowd unnoticed–then he was gone. Just a haunting shadow of nightmares, off to hunt his prey.

A/N:

Hey, Boo… heeeeeeey! I hope that you are doing well. Thank you all for being patient with my inconsistent posting. Please charge it to my head and not my heart. I had a blast writing this chapter 😏 and I hope that you enjoy it as much as I did.

Thanks to @moonleeai for beta reading this chapter! 💜🫶🏽

Okay. Love you...byeeeeeeee!

[joonslfttiddie]

seesaw ⟡ love yourself in london

cr. namuspromised

[joonslfttiddie]

AND I WILL BLOOM 🌼🌸🌿🌻🍀🌷💐

@kpopcreators event 06: spring

[joonslfttiddie]

Be Mine

Ten

💜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: 4,157

Park Jimin

The sun was peeking over the horizon when Jimin woke up. Lying in bed, a smile danced across his lips as thoughts of Kamryn played in his mind. With her, things were becoming easy. Too easy. He allowed himself to sink into the comfort she provided, blind to the shift already happening. The control he thought he had over her was slipping–flipping before he could even clock it. He was now at her mercy, tethered to her in ways he was unaware of. Ways he had never intended. And, little did either of them know, if she so much as whispered it, he would set the whole fucking world on fire just to see her smile. He was entirely at her mercy.

Fresh out of the shower, he swiped at the steam-covered mirror to take a good look at himself. After filling up on Kamryn's energy the other night, he'd been feeling more alert, focused, and stronger, though he wasn't aware she was the cause. He thought back to how he was laid out across the floor that night and attributed it to him pushing himself too far to connect with Kamryn. He then realized how easily he was able to do it yesterday and last night, with no straining or discomfort. Jimin watched as his muscles rippled under his skin, coiling, flexing, and retracting on their own. Bulkier. More defined. Ripped as hell. It was as if he had been upgraded overnight. Even his eyes looked different when he turned, flashing a bright golden glow he'd never seen before. Even though he was unsure as to why his eyes were different, he smirked at himself, satisfied with his new update, then flipped his eyes back to their usual honey-brown before continuing to get ready to start his day.

Today his plan was to visit Kim Towers. He knew that Kamryn would likely frown upon his methods of obtaining wealth, however, doing this last job would set them up for life. Them. Look at him, already including her in future plans, as if he knew that they would always be together.

Jimin was able to get past the front gate with a little manipulation and pulled his blacked-out 7-series into one of the designated parking spots near the entrance like he belonged there.

"I'll borrow your spot for a bit Mr. Kim Taehyung," he said to himself, reading the sign posted in front of the spot, as he climbed out of his car. "I'll only be a bit."

With his hands shoved into the pockets of his tailored navy blue pants, he sauntered into the building, exuding confidence. But before he could fully sit into the feeling, a sudden wave of anxiety gripped his chest. He could still feel Kamryn's energy from the other night pulsing through his veins. He felt stronger, however, he couldn't ignore the timidness that seemed to creep up his neck. Having his powers at full capacity meant nothing if he was apprehensive. Would he be able to pull this off?

He exhaled sharply, forcing himself to keep moving. A man who would usually strut through this lobby like he owned the place, knowing that he would always get what he wanted, was now hesitating. Flashes of Kamryn's smile, the smell of her hair, and the softness of her skin flooded his mind, causing his ruthless ambition to falter, being replaced by an ailing softness infused with pitiful longing. Each step he took across the tiled lobby felt like a betrayal to the love that was beginning to invade his entire being. Yet he breezed past the front desk with no issue, then took the elevator to the chairman's office. He knew that this was a bold move. He could have taken his time, gotten to know the CEO's hobbies, and met him on the golf course or something, but he needed to get this done.

The way that Kamryn was beginning to affect him and these new feelings that came with it, it felt like he was running out of time. Is this what it feels like to be torn between right and wrong? This woman was pulling at the seam of the meticulously curated monster he'd created, and for a second he wondered if this fragile humanity was worth the cost–the cost of letting go.

"This is the last time," he said just above a whisper before approaching the receptionist's desk. "Hi, I'm here to see Chairman Kim."

"Hello, sir. Do you have an appointm- Hello, Mr. Park. Right this way," the receptionist corrected himself after witnessing that irresistibly persuasive glint in his eyes. The young man led him to the massive, wooden double doors and opened them for him.

"Sir, Mr. Park is here to see you."

"Who? Mr. Park?" Chairman Kim was seated at his desk completely focused on the folder in his hand, with other identical folders in stacks along its surface. He looked up to meet Jimin's gaze. "Ah, Mr. Park. Come in. Would you like some water? Tea?"

"I'm fine, thank you." And with that the man left them, closing the door behind him.

Half an hour later, Jimin was leaving the building, making sure there would be no memory of him from Chairman Kim or the staff. He didn't realize the man that approached the building just as he was getting into his car.

"So, that's the ass that took my spot," Taehyung said as he watched Jimin crank up his car and drive away.

Later in the day, Jimin couldn't wait to speak to Kamryn. He had her number but enjoyed speaking to her in a way no one else could. It was special.

          -Hey, beautiful. Have you had lunch yet?

-Hey! No, not yet. I'm just finishing up my workout. What are you up to?

         -Can't you tell? Just thinking of you. My mind and my thoughts are completely consumed                by you. What spell do you have on me, Ms. Graham?

-Spell? Me? Says the wizard speaking to me telepathically.

Jimin chuckled, loving her silly comebacks. She was so quick with them and funny as hell. So lighthearted and pure–untainted. Or was she?

          -Okay. Stay there. I'm on my way.

-I don't know if I'll get used to these powers of yours. Oh, yeah... could you bring my

things from your place?

He could see everything that she could see, feel everything she felt. He could even feel her heartbeat, a slightly elevated pulse in the back of his mind, his personal GPS guiding him to her exact location. Right now, she wasn't far from the complex, within walking distance. He grabbed her things, hopped in his car, and pulled up to the gym within five minutes. He parked, then went inside to get her.

"Hey. You could have just told me you were here," Kamryn said, pointing to her head, hinting at their connection. Even after working out, her rich sepia-brown skin seemed to glow from within. Her smile, usually soft and timid, now held a spark of sass Jimin hadn't noticed before. He was able to notice even the most subtle change in her with every step she took toward him, oozing with her newfound confidence and strength. Her upright posture, eye contact, and glimmer in her eyes were evidence of the power exchange between them.

"I know. I could have. But I didn't want to," he said as he pushed a rogue curl from her face, then caressed her cheeks with his thumbs. "I couldn't wait another second to see your beautiful face. Plus, I'm quite the gentleman," he said while leading her out of the facility. Other patrons stared at them, some envious with others ogling with desire. They did make quite an attractive couple.

"Aww," she said. When he opened his car door, she said, "But I didn't bring a change of clothes, so I didn't shower. I jogged here thinking I was going back home."

"You look fine, Kamryn. Get in, please."This felt strange, him trying to convince a human without influence. He was torn. It's not like he hadn't used his powers on Kamryn before to will her to do as he pleased, but he was starting to get the feeling it wasn't right. He found himself experiencing guilt, shame, and didn't like that shit at all. "Please."

She did as he asked, slipping into the passenger seat. He closed her door after making sure she was in safely, then jogged around to the driver's door and got in. Kamryn asked, "Are you okay? You seem... different."

"I'm good. What do you mean?"

"I don't know," she said as she buckled her seatbelt. "You just seem on edge, maybe? A little uncertain? Do you still feel like I'm afraid of you or something? Because I thought we cleared all of that up last night."

For a split second, as her words hung in the air between them, he wondered if the Jimin she'd come to know was starting to waver in her eyes–if he appeared as hesitant as he felt being overtaken by something so unexpectedly beautiful.

"Uncertain of what? No, I'm fine. You told me that you weren't afraid and that you'd accept me for who I am. I believe you, and I appreciate you saying that. I guess it will take time–because I've never experienced this... dynamic before. Just like you."

"You're right. I've never met a sexy demon before."

"Ha ha. So you think I'm sexy, huh?" While he was incredibly flattered, something deeper within felt–healed. The darkest part of him that he'd been ashamed of since the day it manifested, she accepted.

"Whatever," she giggles. "Where have you been? You look so handsome and professional." He was still wearing what he wore to the office, minus his blazer. The white button-up was slim fit, showing off every muscular curve in his arms and his firm pecs.

"You think so? Thanks. I just had to take care of some business this morning. Are you off all day?"

"Yeah, I only have some editing to do, but I'm free. Why?"

"I was hoping to get some of your time. Maybe take you to lunch, then whatever you want after."

"That sounds nice, but are we going to act like I don't smell like hot ass right now? I want to take a shower and change before we do anything."

"Yes, ma'am. Whatever you want, I'll do, beautiful." And he would, in more ways than either of them were even aware–without thought.

She grinned, seemingly pleased to be getting her way so easily.

At her place, he pulled in next to her car. Surveying the parking lot, he saw that Tiara's car wasn't there, but Mariah's was.

"Would you like to come in? I shouldn't be too long." He really didn't want to but as he stated before, he was a gentleman. He had to carry her things inside.

"Sure," he said, shutting off the engine, then turning to grab her things from the backseat before getting out to open the door for her. He took her hand and allowed himself to be led to her door.

"Ri," she yelled, "are you here?"

Don't be home. Don't be home. He sighed a sigh of relief when there was no answer.

"She must be out with her boyfriend 'cause her car is here. Anyway, you can wait in my room if you want."

"Yeah, okay." He followed her into her bedroom, glancing around as he set her things down on the bed, right next to the phone she'd tossed there before disappearing into the walk-in closet. "You weren't kidding when you mentioned that your favorite color is yellow. It's bright as hell in here," he mused, taking in her space. The room was a mix of white and various shades of yellow—soft, warm, and undeniably her. It was fitting. It looked... happy. He lowered himself onto the yellow boucle fabric of the swivel chair nestled near the corner he'd occupied just the night before.

"First of all, you would know," she yelled from around the corner. "Secondly, don't do me like that. My room is beautiful."

"I didn't say it wasn't. It's nice, I'm just saying."

"Whatever." She peeked around the corner. "Alright, I'm going to shower real quick. Be right back." Then she disappeared to walk back through the closet to the bathroom.

Jimin, taking note of how comfortable the chair was, scrolled on his phone. His fingers moved across the screen, though he was barely paying attention. His thoughts were on the meeting he'd had with Chairman Kim. Thinking back on what was discussed, he wondered what his next move should be.

He was pulled from his thoughts when he heard the front door open and then close. Immediately, he felt exposed, caught, and uncomfortable, like he shouldn't be here. Jimin wasn't necessarily a people person and tended to distance himself, so he really didn't want to have to interact with Kamryn's roommates, especially with her not being there with him.

"Kam!" A woman's voice yelled. He could hear her footsteps getting closer to the door and another voice further away, assumingly in the living room. After a series of small knocks, she opened the door and jolted back, obviously surprised to see him sitting there. "Oh. Hey."

"Hey. Kamryn's in the shower," he answered a little too quickly but remained sitting comfortably with his legs crossed, an ankle resting on his knee. Jimin stood and walked over to her to shake her hand. "You must be Mariah. I've heard so much about you."

"I am. And you must be Jimin," Mariah answered, accepting his hand.

"Guilty," he said, attempting to act lighthearted and friendly.

"Babe, who are you talking to? Kam got a man in here?"

Jimin's eyes shifted from Mariah to the man now standing behind her.

"What the fuck? What are you doing here?" The man asked loudly.

"I'm sorry?" Jimin was thoroughly confused.

"Do you guys know each other?" Mariah asked. Jimin shook his head before Taehyung continued.

"This is the man I was telling you about earlier. The one who took my parking spot."

"Kim Taehyung?" Jimin asked, remembering the sign he'd seen that marked the spot at Kim Towers earlier. "I did take your spot this morning. Forgive me. I didn't think I was going to be there long. Park Jimin," he introduced himself while extending his hand to the man. Taehyung just stared at his hand and then back to his face. The tightness in Taehyng's jaw, his rigid stance–Jimin didn't need powers to know that this man didn't fuck with him. His disrespect was awakening a part of Jimin he thought was beginning to soften. He could feel the rage climbing up from his belly; his hand tightened around the phone still in his other hand.

Kamryn Graham

"Jimin, wh-," Kamryn said as she walked around the corner. "Oh, hey guys! I figured y'all were together. I see you've met Jimin."

"Yeah. Yeah, we met Jimin," Taehyung said roughly.

"Tae, don't start, please," Kamryn said with an exasperated expression.

"Start what? Why is this man in your bedroom? And, what the fuck you got on?"

His question made everyone stop to take in what she was wearing. The springy yellow, flirty swing dress with spaghetti straps she had on was cute and stopped just above her knees.

"Awww, you look so cute, Kam!" Mariah gushed, causing Kamryn to beam, spinning around before she kicked her foot up behind her.

"Cute? Her ass is practically hanging out. Go change."

"Oh, hush, Tae. It is not even that short," Mariah said as she playfully swatted at his arm. She looked back at Kamryn adoringly. "Okay, legs! Shoes! I love it. Where y'all going?"

Kamryn looked at Jimin, and he answered, "Lunch, then wherever else she wants to go."

"Oh, good. I'm starving. Let's go," Taehyung said.

"Stop it, Tae. We are not going with them," she huffed while pushing him back out of the doorway. She shot an apologetic look at Kamryn. "Sorry, girl. You know how he is." Looking back at Jimin, she offered a polite nod. "It was nice to meet you. Enjoy your lunch." Then, with a mischievous grin, she glanced back at Kamryn. "See you later, beautiful," she sang, still wrangling Taehyung, who was still protesting and talking shit as she muscled him back up the hallway.

"Well, this wasn't how I imagined I would introduce you to my friends, but... yeah. My friends," Kamryn said with a shy smile, reaching her hands out as if presenting something.

"It's all good. You look beautiful," he said, taking her hand to spin her again.

"Thank you." Kamryn blushed. "Let me grab my purse, then I'll be ready."

Once Kamryn had gathered everything she needed and stuffed it into her purse, the pair made their way out of the room and into the living room, where Taehyung was seated on the couch, still staring daggers at Jimin.

"Hey babe, Tae has to meet with some stiff-ass business exec later tonight at Clove for happy hour. If you're done before 6:30, will you come by? I don't want to be there alone while they talk business," Mariah called out from the kitchen.

"Eww. Boring," Kamryn teased Taehyung, who still sat straight-faced. "Yeah, of course, if we're done." She agreed just as Mariah came around the corner, wiggling her eyebrows.

"It was nice to meet you both. Sorry again about the parking spot," Jimin offered, trying his best to behave. Taehyung threw a hand up, acknowledging him this time after obviously being scolded by Mariah. He still rolled his eyes with his arms crossed against his chest. And as if Kamryn could feel the war between good and evil raging inside Jimin, she opened the door and pulled him out before he could say anything else.

"See y'all later," she said with a forced smile before closing the door. "Jimin, Jimin, calm down, okay," she said, placing her soft hands on either side of his face, forcing him to look at her. Her head jerked with confusion when their eyes met. "Your eyes. What? How?"

Jimin grabbed her hand and hurriedly led her out the back door into the courtyard.

"Wait! Jimin!" She called out to him while trying to keep up with her heels digging into the grass, but he couldn't hear shit right now.

At the back door of his building, he pulled his wallet from his pocket and pressed it against the sensor, unlocking the door. She followed him down the hall and to the elevator. Once inside, she tried to talk to him again.

"Quiet," he said as he glanced at her without fully turning to look at her. That voice. The voice made her gasp and place a hand on her chest in a useless attempt to keep her heart from beating through her skin. The way her body reacted to the sound didn't make sense. She should have been screaming and clawing her way free from his grasp, but she wasn't. She wouldn't. Instead, she gripped his hand tighter, and her belly burned as wetness formed between her legs. Weak in the knees, the excitement coursed through her, but she didn't dare speak another word.

The elevator dinged when they reached the third floor. He tugged at her, leading her to his apartment, where he used his keycard again, opening the door for them. Once inside, he made a beeline for the kitchen, where he retrieved a glass and a bottle of brown liquor. Kamryn stood in the middle of the living room and watched him from a distance. His amber eyes bore into her as he threw the first shot back. His teeth seemed to be extended, kind of like a vampire, but not just his fangs–all of them. He poured another shot before he came to stand in front of her, where she was able to get a better look at him. He was beautifully terrifying.

She had so many questions but decided to tuck her lips in instead of voicing them. He circled her slowly, and she could feel the heat emanating from his body. Swirling the brown liquid in the glass haphazardly, his eyes remained trained on her. She stiffened when he began to speak.

"Who the fuck is Taehyung to you?" He spat, his aggressiveness making her moan. Her senses were overwhelmed–the gravelly crackle in his voice, his appearance, the smell of his cologne mixed with the liquor, the heat on her skin–and it was all too much. Yet, she wanted more. She needed him just like this, in between her legs, taking her–his intensity keeping her on the verge of pleasure and fear. Her heart pounded, and she was sure he was close enough to hear it. She was already breathing heavily as she began looking down, plucking at the fabric of her dress, unaware that each time it flared, he was catching whiffs of her arousal.

"Stop," he barked. She startled and stopped immediately. "Look at me." His words sounded more like a challenge than a command that she obeyed. Her hands trembled at her side as she forced herself to look into his golden eyes. "Answer me."

"A- A friend. More like a big brother. We all met in college. He's Mariah's boyfriend. He's just overprotective. He didn't mea-"

Park Jimin

"Don't you dare fix your fucking mouth to defend another man in front of me," he seethed. He saw her eyes fall to his teeth and then back to his eyes. That was one of the parts of himself he was afraid to show her: his teeth. He was ashamed–as if his glowing eyes weren't enough; his fangs were a stain that displayed how truly putrid he was inside. They were an extension of the fury boiling within him, not because of the blatant disrespect he'd just endured from Taehyung. Snickering, he thought back to how he tried to apologize and smooth things over before he'd left.

What the fuck was that?

Foolish. He felt so stupid trying to appease a measly human. A human that wasn't her. While that was infuriating, it was nothing. The fact that he was unable to handle Taehyung the way he usually would...the way he wanted to–was fucking with him. Physically capable. Of course. But fucking Kamryn. She made him hesitate. Made him practice patience and show mercy. Who the fuck was he becoming? And all for some fucking woman? She was turning him into a bitch, and he was beginning to hate her for it. Torn, deep down, he didn't want to hurt her and knew that he wouldn't. Hell, he didn't even want her to be afraid of him, but the darkness inside needed its lick back.

"What? Are you scared?" he taunted.

"No," she lied. Jimin could feel that she was scared shitless, but the wetness between her legs suggested something else lingered. He licked the edges of his dentitions.

She looked at his teeth again, so he forced them out further, giving in even more to the shadow within. Kamryn's eyes grew wide as she watched his face morph, with an audible crack in his jaw. His cheeks shifted into an unnaturally chiseled appearance, causing a new swarm of emotions to flood her all at once. Confused, she stopped breathing as his skin stretched in ways a human's skin shouldn't. She was terrified–he could feel it. Smell it. And God, he loved it.

"Look at me! Yeah, there it is. I can smell it on you. Terror," he teased with the most evil smile Kamryn had ever seen. Jimin inhaled deeply, savoring her fear. "Am I too much for you?" She didn't answer. "Are you speechless, Kamryn?"

"L- Like-," her words were breathy, catching in her throat. "Like your mother?" The aftershocks of fear continued to reverberate throughout her body, her whole being convulsed. "Jimin. Stop." Her bottom lip began to quiver, and tears escaped her eyes to cascade down her cheeks. "Stop," she said as her voice grew weaker. Losing strength in her body, she reached out to rest a hand on his forearm. Deflated. It was as if she was being siphoned of her energy.

Jimin's eyes flashed as if he'd just realized what he was doing–he was becoming like him. His father. The tension between his knitted brows and hardened facial features began to soften. The razor-sharp teeth began to retract, slowly moving back into his gum line. "Kamryn," he said softly. The glass shattered before he even realized he'd let it go, but she was falling, and instinct had taken over. He caught her and held her limp body in his arms as feelings of what must have been regret churned in his stomach. "Kamryn. I'm so sorry," he whispered into her hair.

A/N:

Omg. Jimin is taking our girl down through there! Have you ever been in a situation where you KNEW you should have run the other way, but you didn't? I pray that you are okay, you were able to walk away, and that you learned something 💕

Thanks so much to @moonleeai for beta reading this chapter! 💜🫶🏽

[joonslfttiddie]

How TOO Bangtan pack looks…

Just fyi…

[joonslfttiddie]

Be Mine

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]

🥵

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! 

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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.

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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

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“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.”