joonslfttiddie

[joonslfttiddie]

Bound By Magic | Chapter Three

🪄Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

🪄AU/Genre: E2L, Magical AU, smut

🪄WC: 11,698

🪄Warnings: smut, minor character death

A/N: This is for @lo1k-diamonds as a part of @bangtanwritershq Sweet Tricks and Wicked Treats exchange

After your tryst with Namjoon, you rejoined Momo and Yoongi to return and inform Haneul of your discovery. You staunchly refused to answer any of Momo’s probing questions as you trekked back toward town. You tried to evade Momo’s inquisition by maneuvering to walk beside Yoongi. Clearly, walking with Namjoon was out of the question, and you would just encourage Momo further. That move wasn’t any better. While silence stretched between the two of you, every now and again, you would catch Yoongi’s eye, and he did a terrible job of suppressing a knowing smirk.

You couldn’t suppress your relief when you finally reached Haneul’s doorstep. You acquiesced and let Namjoon lead the conversation, filling in the sage wizard on what happened while you were gone. Exhaustion dragged at your every muscle; your bones ached for your soft bed and hours of sleep.

As Haneul absorbed the information, his eyes flickered between Namjoon and you. You felt the weight of his ancient gaze upon you, a thoughtful expression etched onto his weathered face.

"This bond between you two is unprecedented," he mused, stroking his long, silver beard. "It may be the key to defeating Wooshik once and for all."

Namjoon's gaze met yours, a silent understanding passing between you. The air crackled with the memory of your shared passion, and you quickly looked away, heat rising to your cheeks.

Haneul cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to the matter at hand. "You must rest tonight. Tomorrow, we will devise a plan to confront Wooshik and safeguard the ancient relic."

With a nod, you turned to leave, eager to escape the suffocating tension that filled the room. As you stepped out into the cool night air, a hand grasped your wrist, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

"Wait," Namjoon's deep voice resonated in the darkness. "About what happened earlier..."

You swallowed hard, your pulse quickening at his touch. "It was a mistake," you whispered, your words laced with uncertainty.

Namjoon's eyes bore into yours, the intensity of his gaze making your knees weak. "Was it?" he murmured, his thumb tracing circles on your skin.

You hesitated, torn between the desire to melt into his embrace and the need to maintain your facade of indifference. "We can't...we shouldn't..."

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Tell me you don't feel it, too," he challenged, his voice a seductive whisper.

Your resolve crumbled, and you surrendered to the magnetic pull between you. Your lips crashed together in a desperate, hungry kiss, the world around you fading into oblivion.

Tomorrow, you would face Wooshik and the challenges that were waiting ahead. But tonight, in the shelter of Namjoon's arms, you allowed yourself to forget the impending danger and lose yourself in the fire of your forbidden passion.

🪄🪄🪄

You burst into the dimly lit chamber, your heart pounding as you saw Namjoon, Yoongi, and Momo already gathered around the ancient stone table. The air crackled with urgency and barely contained power.

"We don't have much time," Namjoon said, his dragon-like eyes flashing in the candlelight. "Wooshik grows stronger by the hour. If we don't stop him from claiming the relic..."

He didn't need to finish the dire thought. You all knew what was at stake - the very fate of the magickal realm hung in the balance.

Momo slammed her fist on the table, rattling the ancient tomes. "Then what are we waiting for? I say we take the fight to him, hit him with everything we've got!"

Yoongi shook his head, a gravelly sigh escaping his lips. "Charging in recklessly will only get us killed. We need a plan." He looked at you and Namjoon. "One that uses your...unique connection."

Your eyes met Namjoon's, and an electric and exhilarating shiver raced down your spine. The bond that had formed between you, that inexplicable pull and understanding, was the key. You could feel it in your very bones.

"Yoongi's right," you said, voice low but resolute. "Namjoon and I will combine our magick to unleash our full potential. It's the only way."

Namjoon nodded, his stern lips curving into the barest hint of a smirk. "Then let's show Wooshik what happens when he tries to disrupt the balance of our world."

As one, you turned and strode from the room, robes swirling around you, ready to face the coming storm.

🪄🪄🪄

The battle raged around you, a maelstrom of clashing magic and flying debris. Wooshik's acolytes swarmed like angry hornets, their dark spells sizzling through the charged air. But you and Namjoon moved as one, his broad frame shielding you as you wove your magic together, fire and ice, light and shadow.

You unleashed a devastating wave of power with a synchronized shout, sending Wooshik's minions flying. The enemy warlock stood at the center of the chaos, an oily sneer twisting his gaunt face as he gripped the ancient relic.

"Fools!" Wooshik cackled, his robes whipping in the unnatural wind. "You cannot stop me! The old ways will fall, and I shall reign supreme!"

Gritting your teeth, you reached deep within yourself, feeling your power and Namjoon's flooding through your veins, vibrant and all-consuming. Tendrils of your combined magick snaked out, seeking the relic. You could feel its ancient thrum, the weight of millennia pulsing in your mind.

Namjoon's hand found yours, fingers lacing together as your auras merged and intensified. As one, you breathed in, tapping into the infinite well of your imprinted souls.

"By the blood of our covens," Namjoon intoned, his voice ringing with command. "By the power of our bond, we banish you!"

A searing beam of blinding white light erupted from your joined hands, spearing through the tumult. Wooshik's eyes widened in disbelief a split second before the purging magick engulfed him.

The relic clattered to the stone floor as Wooshik's form disintegrated, his ashes scattering on the fading winds. Silence fell, broken only by your ragged breathing. You squeezed Namjoon's hand, almost dizzy with relief and exhilaration.

As the dust settled and the last remnants of Wooshik's power dissipated, you and Namjoon stood in the center of the chamber, panting and slightly dazed. The intense bond that had formed between you during your battle with the rogue witch still thrummed within your veins, connecting you in an exhilarating and terrifying way.

Momo and Yoongi emerged from the shadows, their expressions a mix of awe and relief. "You did it," Momo breathed, her eyes sparkling with pride. "You saved us all."

Yoongi nodded solemnly, his gaze flickering between you and Namjoon. "And it seems like you two have formed quite an unbreakable connection," he added with a slight smirk.

You blushed, feeling Namjoon's hand tighten around yours as he pulled you closer to his side. Together, you faced your friends and allies, ready to embrace whatever challenges lay ahead.

But first, there was something else that needed to be addressed.

"We must destroy this relic," Namjoon said firmly as he reached down to pick up the ancient object that had caused so much chaos and destruction.

Momo's brow furrowed as she stepped forward. "But why? It could be used for good now that Wooshik no longer possesses it."

"You don't understand," Namjoon replied gravely. "This relic is far too powerful for anyone to control. Wooshik's dark magic has tainted it and must be destroyed before it again falls into the wrong hands."

With a nod of understanding, Momo stepped back as Yoongi conjured a flame in his palm. Gently placing his hand on top of the relic, he watched solemnly as it crumbled into ash under his touch.

The air around you seemed to lighten as if a heavy burden had been lifted from your shoulders. You couldn't help but feel a sense of victory and relief.

As the ashes of the destroyed relic scattered on the cool breeze, you felt a profound sense of peace settle over you. It was as if the very fabric of the world had exhaled, released from the suffocating grip of Wooshik's dark ambitions.

Namjoon's hand remained firmly entwined with yours, his touch both grounding and electrifying. In the aftermath of the battle, the true depth of your bond was undeniable - a connection forged in the crucible of shared purpose and sacrifice.

Momo broke the contemplative silence with a whoop of joy, throwing her arms around Yoongi in an exuberant hug. "We did it! We actually did it!" Her laughter was infectious, dispelling the lingering shadows.

Even Yoongi cracked a rare grin, patting Momo's back as he met your gaze over her shoulder. "Looks like the magical realm owes you two a debt of gratitude. Your bond... it's going to change everything."

You glanced up at Namjoon, a shiver racing through you at the intensity in his dragon eyes. There was no going back now, no pretending that what had blossomed between you was anything less than fate-altering.

"We should get back to the covens," Namjoon said, his deep voice rumbling through you. "Share the news of our victory and..." He hesitated, thumb brushing over your knuckles. "...and figure out what comes next for us."

Us. The word hung in the air, heavy with promise and uncertainty. You knew in your bones that your path was now inextricably linked with Namjoon's, but navigating this uncharted territory would be its own kind of journey.

With a resolute nod, you followed your friends out of the chamber, stepping into the light of a new day. The world had shifted on its axis, but with Namjoon by your side, you were ready to embrace whatever challenges and wonders the future held.

🪄🪄🪄

The return to the covens was a whirlwind of celebration and change. News of Wooshik's defeat spread like wildfire, and suddenly, you and Namjoon were hailed as the saviors of the magical realm. Witches and warlocks who had once viewed your bond with suspicion now looked upon you with awe and reverence.

Amidst the chaos, stolen moments with Namjoon became your anchor. A brush of hands as you passed in the hall, a heated glance across a crowded room, whispered words in shadowed alcoves - each interaction only served to deepen the simmering tension between you.

Late one night, you found yourself wandering the quiet streets of the town, lost in thought. The moon hung heavy and full above you, casting everything in an otherworldly glow.

"Couldn't sleep either?" Namjoon's voice came from behind you, sending a delicious shiver down your spine. You turned to face him, heart already racing at the sight of his tall, imposing figure.

"Too much on my mind," you replied softly, gaze locking with his. The air between you crackled with unspoken desire, the force of your bond almost tangible in the moonlight.

Namjoon closed the distance between you in two long strides, his hands cradling your face. "I know exactly what you mean," he murmured, his breath ghosting over your lips.

And then he was kissing you, deep and desperate, as if he could pour every ounce of longing into the press of his mouth against yours. You melted into him, fingers tangling in the silky strands of his hair, losing yourself in the intoxicating taste and feel of him.

When you finally broke apart, chests heaving, Namjoon rested his forehead against yours. "I don't want to fight this anymore," he confessed, voice raw with emotion. "What we have... it's once in a lifetime. Fated."

You nodded, tears pricking at your eyes. "I feel it, too. This connection is like nothing I've ever known. Terrifying and exhilarating all at once."

Namjoon brushed a thumb over your cheekbone, wiping away an errant tear. "Then let's embrace it fully and without fear. Together, we can face anything."

As he pulled you into another searing kiss, the future stretched out before you, ripe with possibility. Your bond had already reshaped the world once - there was no telling what wonders it would bring next. But with Namjoon by your side, you were ready for anything.

🪄🪄🪄

The magical realm slowly began to heal in the wake of Wooshik's defeat. Under the guidance of you and Namjoon, the once divided covens learned to work together, pooling knowledge and resources for the betterment of all.

Your love story became something of a legend, whispered around campfires and written in the margins of ancient tomes. The tale of two former rivals, bound by a connection that transcended the very fabric of magic itself - was an inspiration to a world still finding its way in the aftermath of darkness.

As the seasons turned and life settled into a new rhythm, you found yourself walking hand in hand with Namjoon through the bustling streets of the capitol. Vendors hawked their wares, and children darted between the stalls, their laughter ringing like bells. The air hummed with a sense of renewed vitality and hope.

Namjoon's fingers tightened around yours as he pulled you to a stop in front of a quaint, unassuming shop. "I have something for you," he said, a mysterious smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Curiosity piqued, and you followed him inside, blinking as your eyes adjusted to the dim interior. The space was cluttered with all manner of magical oddities - glimmering crystal orbs, dusty tomes bound in cracked leather, and bundles of herbs that filled the air with a pungent, earthy scent. Namjoon led you through the maze of shelves, his broad shoulders brushing against the precariously stacked items.

At the very back of the shop, he stopped in front of a small, ornate chest. With a whispered word and a flash of magick, the lock clicked open, revealing a pair of intricately carved bracelets nestled on a bed of rich blue velvet.

"These were crafted by the first witches to form a soul bond," Namjoon explained, lifting one of the bracelets from the chest. The metal seemed to pulse with an inner light, ancient runes etched along its surface. "Legend says they amplify the connection between bonded pairs, allowing them to draw on each other's strength in times of need."

He took your hand, thumb brushing over your racing pulse before slipping the bracelet onto your wrist. It settled against your skin with a pleasant warmth, the runes glowing softly as they attuned to your energy.

Namjoon donned the matching bracelet, and a shiver ran through you as you felt your bond with him deepen and expand. It was as if a hidden door had been thrown open, flooding you with the full force of his emotions—love, desire, and devotion, all swirling together in a heady rush.

"I wanted you to have a tangible reminder of what we share," Namjoon murmured, drawing you into his arms. "No matter what challenges we face, we'll always have each other."

Blinking back tears, you surged up on your toes to capture his lips in a searing kiss. The bracelets hummed with power as your magicks intertwined, a physical manifestation of the unbreakable bond you had forged.

As you lost yourself in Namjoon's embrace, the rest of the world faded away. Here, in this moment, nothing else mattered but the love that burned between you - a love that had reshaped the very fabric of the magickal realm.

🪄🪄🪄

Years passed, and the legend of your bond with Namjoon only grew. Young witches looked to your story for inspiration, a shining example of the power of unity and love in the face of darkness.

You stood side by side with Namjoon, watching as a new generation of magick users trained in the grand halls of your shared coven. Pride swelled in your chest as you saw them work together seamlessly, the old rivalries and divisions nothing more than a distant memory.

Namjoon's hand found yours, fingers lacing together with the ease of long practice. The bracelets that symbolized your soul bond glinted in the sunlight streaming through the high windows, a constant reminder of the unbreakable connection you shared.

"Look at what we've built," Namjoon murmured, his voice rich with emotion. "A world united by love and magick. I never could have imagined this when we first met all those years ago."

You leaned into his side, resting your head against his broad shoulder. "We've come so far," you agreed softly. "And to think, it all started with a rivalry and a forbidden attraction."

Namjoon chuckled, the sound rumbling through you like distant thunder. "Fate works in mysterious ways. Who would have thought the key to saving the magickal realm was a bond between two stubborn, headstrong witches?"

"Momo always said our bickering was just unresolved sexual tension," you teased, grinning up at him.

He arched a brow, eyes glinting with mischief. "Well, she wasn't entirely wrong, now was she?" His free hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "I seem to recall a certain tryst in the forest that changed everything..."

Heat bloomed under your skin at the memory, desire coiling low in your belly. Even after all this time, Namjoon's touch still set you alight, your soul bond only amplifying the intensity of your passion.

"Perhaps we should take a trip down memory lane," you suggested, voice dropping to a seductive purr. "Relive some of our more...memorable moments."

Namjoon's eyes darkened, his grip on your hand tightening. "I like the way you think, my love."

With a wicked grin, you tugged him away from the training grounds, your footsteps echoing through the ancient halls of your coven. The weight of your shared history hung in the air, a tapestry woven from threads of rivalry, forbidden desire, and world-altering love.

As you pulled Namjoon into your private chambers, the door closing behind you with a resounding thud, you knew that your story was far from over. Together, you would continue to shape the future of the magickal realm, your bond a guiding light for generations to come.

But for now, in the sanctuary of your room, there was only the two of you - two souls entwined by the hand of fate, lost in the fire of a love that would echo through the ages.

[joonslfttiddie]

Bound By Magic | Chapter Two

🪄Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

🪄AU/Genre: E2L, Magical AU, smut

🪄WC: 11,698

🪄Warnings: smut, minor character death

A/N: This is for @lo1k-diamonds as a part of @bangtanwritershq Sweet Tricks and Wicked Treats exchange

Your heart pounded in your chest as you raced through the twisted forest, branches clawing at your face, your breath coming in ragged gasps. Namjoon sprinted beside you, his brow furrowed in determination and robes snapping in the wind. The ancient artifact weighed heavy in your satchel, its power thrumming against your hip.

“We have to hurry,” Namjoon panted, his dark eyes flashing with urgency. “If Wooshik gets his hands on this…”

You nodded, not daring to voice the terrible fate if you failed. Images of destruction and uncontrolled magick flooded your mind. You pushed yourself harder, leaping over gnarled roots. The musty scent of decaying leaves filled your nose.

A sharp crack rent the air. You whirled around, your fingers already weaving a defensive spell, magick pulsing beneath your skin. Wooshik’s forces burst from the shadows, eyes gleaming with malice and their hands crackling with arcane energy.

“Scatter!” Namjoon yelled, shoving you out of the way just as a blast of fire scorched the earth where you stood a heartbeat before. 

You landed hard on the ground and quickly rolled until you were sheltered behind a tree, your back pressed against the rough bark. You caught glimpses of your friends locked in desperate battles through the smoke and chaos. In a whirlwind of water and ice, Momo held off three attackers simultaneously. Suzy’s illusions flickered and danced, disorienting the enemy. Namjoon and Yoongi fought back to back, their enchanted blades flashing in the dim light.

Dread clawed at your throat, leaving a coppery taste on your tongue. The artifact in your bag was the key to saving the realm; the weight of that knowledge was almost too much to bear. A surge of panic threatened to consume you. Your heart pounded in your chest, your breath fueled by ragged gasps. 

With a deep breath, you steadied yourself and channeled your power, summoning a swirling vortex of wind that tore through the fray. Once the tempest cleared, you found your way to Namjoon’s side, freeing Yoongi to go on the offensive and back the enemy up even further. Your hands moved rapidly, with no time to spare to dig out your wand to help focus your power; you weaved a slew of defensive spells and threw them like barbs at the enemy with all your might. Your magick began to fuse into a devastating force to overwhelm your adversaries.

And so, you fought on in solidarity, your determination unwavering. Every deep breath was singed with the smell of smoke and the metallic scent of blood. But you refused to give up. Just as one side wrangled the upper hand, the other wrested it away just like a pendulum.

Finally, just as it seemed you were about to be overrun, the tide of the battle began to turn. Wooshik’s forces began to falter, their attacks growing weaker and less coordinated. Determined to drive the enemy away, you and Namjoon summoned all the energy you could and launched a final counterattack.

This did the trick because, with a loud whistle, all the acolytes started disappearing in whisps of smoke one by one. 

Namjoon stood next to you, still tense, unsure if he should let his guard down. After several beats, he lowered his sword and turned to you. He reached out and gripped your arm, his touch electric even through the fabric of your robes. "Are you alright?" His voice was low and urgent.

"I'm fine." You met his gaze, your heart stuttering at the intensity you found there. "But the others..."

Relief flooded your veins at the sight of the rest of the group, battered but alive. Momo leaned heavily against Yoongi, her face pale, his gait altered by a noticeable limp.

"Thank the gods," Namjoon breathed, his hand tightening on your arm. "Is everyone alright?"

Yoongi nodded, his lips pressed into a grim line. "We need to keep moving. Wooshik's forces will return.”

Your gaze swiveled around. “Why isn’t Suzy with you? They didn’t take her, did they?”

As if on cue, a figure emerged from the shadows of the trees, her crimson cloak billowing in the breeze. Your heart stopped.

Suzy.

"You won't be going anywhere," she says, her voice like honey laced with poison. "Not with that artifact."

Namjoon steps forward, his body a shield between you and Suzy. "What are you doing, Suzy? Don't tell me you're working with Wooshik."

A slow smile spread across her face, her green eyes glittering with malice. "Working with him? Oh, Namjoon, you have no idea. Wooshik's plan will bring a new order to the magickal realm, where the strongest will rule. And I intend to be at his side when it happens."

The shock of her betrayal hit you like a physical blow, stealing the breath from your lungs. This couldn’t be happening. Suzy, your friend, your confidante...how could she do this?

"You're insane," you managed to choke out, your voice shaking with a potent mix of anger and hurt. "Wooshik's plan will bring nothing but destruction and suffering. Can't you see that?"

Suzy's eyes narrowed, her lips curling into a sneer. "You're too weak to see the truth—all of you. But I'm not. I know where true power lies, and I won't let anything stand in my way. Not even our friendship."

She raised her hands, crackling with dark energy, and your blood ran cold. This is it—the moment of truth. You had to stop her and protect your friends and the artifact.

You shoved the satchel into Yoongi’s arms and stepped forward, your magick swirling around you in a shimmering aura. "I won't let you do this, Suzy. I'll stop you, whatever it takes."

Namjoon's hand brushed against yours, a silent show of support. You drew strength from his presence, from the unwavering determination in his eyes. Together, you faced Suzy, ready to fight.

You lunged forward, one hand wielding your wand while the other weaved intricate patterns in the air. You summoned a torrent of elemental magick and sent it in a surge toward Suzy in a dazzling display of raw power. She countered with a wave of her own dark energy, the two forces colliding in a blinding explosion of light and shadow.

The fight is immediate in its force, a fierce dance of spells and counterspells. Sweat beaded on your brow as you poured every ounce of your strength into the fight, determined to outmatch Suzy's formidable skills. Namjoon was right beside you, his precise incantations and swift movements a testament to his unwavering focus.

As you dodge a particularly vicious curse, your heart aches with the weight of Suzy's betrayal. The memories of your shared laughter and late-night study sessions flash through your mind, a bitter contrast to the cold determination etched on her face now. How could she turn her back on everything you've fought for?

"Suzy, please," you pled, your voice ragged with exertion. "It doesn't have to be this way. We can still make this right."

But your words fell on deaf ears. Suzy's eyes blazed with fanatic fervor, her movements grew more erratic and desperate as she was overpowered. With a final, devastating blast of arcane energy, you and Namjoon brought her to her knees, her magick spent, and her will broken.

In the eerie stillness that followed, you stood over Suzy's defeated form, your chest heaving and your mind reeling. Namjoon's hand found yours again, his touch a silent anchor in the storm of emotions raging within you.

"Why, Suzy?" you whispered, your voice thick with unshed tears. "Why would you betray us like this?"

She looked up at you. "You'll never understand," she rasped, her voice tinged with bitter resignation. "The power Wooshik promised... it was too much to resist. I thought I could have it all, but I was wrong. So wrong." Her once-vibrant green eyes turned dull and lifeless with one last rattled breath.

Namjoon's grip tightened on your hand, his own pain and confusion mirroring yours. At that moment, as you stood amidst the wreckage of your shattered friendship, something shifted between you and Namjoon. The walls you'd both so carefully constructed began to crumble, your shared grief and vulnerability forging a bond deeper than any magick.

"I'm sorry," you murmured, your eyes meeting Namjoon's. "I never wanted it to come to this."

He shook his head, his voice soft yet resolute. "It's not your fault. Suzy made her choice, and we had to make ours. We did what we had to do to protect the ones we love."

Love. The word hung in the air between you, a fragile yet powerful truth. You saw a glimmer of something more in the depths of Namjoon's dragon-like eyes.

As you stood there, you realized that perhaps this is what it meant to find strength in unity. Even in the darkest of times, love can light the way forward.

🪄🪄🪄

Bone-weary and tired, the four of you trudged on until you found a small inn to stop at for the night. Namjoon briefly disappeared and stepped back outside, two heavy brass keys cupped in his palms. Momo slipped one of the keys out of his hand and turned to you.

“Let's hit the hay,” she quipped, her effort to lighten the mood barely breaking the surface. 

You hesitated, glancing from her back to Namjoon. You rolled your lip between your teeth. “Um… would you mind if I stayed with Namjoon instead?”

You sensed Namjoon stilling next to you as Momo’s eyes widened, her mouth opening and closing a few times before finding her voice again. “Uh, yeah, that’s cool.” She quickly pivoted to Yoongi. “Shall we?”

Yoongi’s lips quirked upwards in a smirk before nodding and silently following Momo inside.

Avoiding his gaze, you looked down at your shuffling feet before gesturing at the door. “Well, after you then.”

Namjoon let out a breathless laugh but led you inside without question. You walked in his footsteps, eyes trained on the broad breadth of his clothed shoulders, following him to one of the rooms he had booked for the night. 

With the clink of the key in the lock, followed by his deep voice, he invited you into the room with a gesture of his arm.

You stepped inside, taking a quick look around. Fully furnished with the bare minimum: a double bed to one side covered in a thick quilt opposite a short chest of drawers. You figured the cracked door in front of you led into the ensuite bathroom.

Shrugging the satchel off, you set it on top of the chest; the click of the lock turned you back toward Namjoon.

You found yourself drawn closer to Namjoon as he leaned back against the solid wood of the door. His eyes only reopened when he sensed your presence right in front of him. You lightly fingered the front of his robes, the adrenaline from the day's events bleeding from your muscles.

His plush lips parted slightly, his breath mingling with yours as the distance between you narrowed. At that moment, the world fell away, and all that remained was the pulsing energy that flowed between you, a connection that transcended the boundaries of your covens and the scars of your pasts.

Namjoon's hand reached up to cup your cheek, his touch feather-light, yet electrifying. Your skin tingled beneath his fingertips, a sensation that rippled through your entire being. His eyes, once cold and calculated, now held a depth of emotion that took your breath away. In their inky depths, you saw a reflection of your own desire, a longing that had simmered beneath the surface for too long, waiting to be unleashed.

Without a word, your lips met in a searing kiss, a collision of passion and pent-up emotions. Namjoon's arms encircled your waist, pulling you flush against him as your fingers tangled in his silky hair. The kiss deepened, a dance of tongues and teeth, a battle for dominance that neither of you were willing to lose. The taste of him, a heady mix of cinnamon and magick, intoxicated you, drowning out the world and its dangers.

At that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the impending threat of Wooshik, not the betrayal of your former friend, not even the ancient rivalries that have kept you apart for so long. All that existed was the fire that burned between you, a flame that consumed and purified, leaving only the truth of your connection in its wake.

As you broke apart, gasping for air, Namjoon rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he savored the lingering sensation of your kiss. "I never thought I could feel this way," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "But with you, it feels like anything is possible."

His words echoed in the silence, raw and profound, etching themselves into the deepest corners of your heart. Your fingers stroked across his hairline, brushing the few locks in disarray back off his forehead. Your electric touch sent a thrill of energy through the both of you.

You swallowed, your heart pounding in your chest. “Namjoon, I -” your voice trailed off, the words getting caught in your throat.

Your eyes connected, and a wave of understanding passed between you - an acknowledgment of the past, a consent for the present, and a longing for the future. You’re both drawn to each other, an irresistible force that created an explosion of passion.

You lifted onto your toes to meet his lips, your hearts thudding in unison. You pressed closer as the kiss deepened, his mouth more demanding as his lips plucked at yours. His large palm cupped the back of your head while his tongue teased at the seam of your lips. With a sigh, your lips parted, allowing him to dive deeper.

Your arms slid up and around his shoulders, pulling him even tighter against you as your tongues danced wildly, yet tenderly, together. With each passing minute, your bodies melted against each other, wrapping each other in the melody of your moans and whimpers.

Your mind swirled as Namjoon’s mouth dragged away from your swollen pink lips and trailed down your neck. His hand slid down your spine, and the heat of his palm singed your back even through the layers of your robes.

A shiver racked your body at the feel of him, leaving open-mouthed kisses across your skin. “Namjoon…” the broken whisper emerged from the depths of your chest. 

Energy crackled around you both, palpable in every pore of your skin. Your fingers laced tightly into the back of his hair as his lips sealed against your pulse, sucking firmly.

His hands continued their path down your figure until they circled your waist, fingers pressing into your hips as his lips sucked bruises into the tender skin of your neck. The influx of sensations made you quiver, and you needed more contact. His hands explored your body with a reverence that caused both thrill and trepidation, leaving you shuddering beneath his touch.

He trailed back up, nosing at the underside of your chin. “Say yes,” his husky voice sent shivers down your spine.

You pulled back, meeting the dark pools of his dragon eyes. Your hands slid along his collar to grip the opening. You nodded your ascent with a swipe of your tongue along your swollen lower lip. “Yes.”

Namjoon’s hands gripped the fabric of your robes, tugging you impossibly closer as his lips crashed back against yours in a bruising, desperate kiss. A moan escaped your throat, swallowed by the heat of his mouth as his tongue delved deep, tangling with yours in a sensual dance.

Your fingers fumbled with the intricate fastenings of his robes, desire making you clumsy. Namjoon’s hands covered yours, helping you slide the heavy fabric off his broad shoulders. It pooled at his feet, forgotten, as your palms mapped the sculpted planes of his chest, reveling in how his muscles jumped and flexed beneath your touch.

Namjoon’s fingers deftly untied the sash at your waist, his lips never leaving yours as he peeled away the layers that separated your heated skin from his. Cool air kissed your flushed body, quickly replaced by the scorching press of Namjoon’s bare chest against yours.

You didn’t resist as he backed you further into the room until the mattress hit the back of your thighs. Your hands clung to his shoulders, pulling him along as he lowered you to the bed. His weight settled between your thighs, the hard evidence of his arousal nestled against your core. A gasp tore from your lips at the contact, your hips rolling instinctively to seek more delicious friction.

“I want you,” Namjoon rasped, his voice raw with need. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

“Then take me,” you breathed, your nails raked down his back. “I’m yours, Namjoon. All yours.”

The remaining fabric that covered your heated flesh fell away, leaving you exposed and vulnerable before his hungry gaze. His eyes raked over your form, taking in every curve, scar, and imperfection as if committing them to memory.

“Beautiful,” he breathed, his voice rough with want. “So incredibly beautiful.”

With a growl of possessive desire, he claimed your lips once more, his tongue plundering the warm cavern of your mouth. Emboldened by his words, you reached out, your fingers tracing the hard lines of his chest. Namjoon’s breath hitched as your hands dipped lower, skimming the waistband of his trousers.

With a deft twist of your wrist, you undid the laces, freeing his straining erection. It sprang forth, thick and heavy, the tip glistening with arousal. Your mouth watered at the sight, a primal hunger overtaking you. Namjoon’s eyes fluttered shut as you wrapped your fingers around his length, stroking him with a teasing slowness that drew a guttural moan from his throat.

He captured your lips in an intense kiss, his tongue delving deep as his own hands roamed your body, mapping every inch of your flesh. His mouth wrenched away from yours, leaving you breathless. Namjoon’s lips trailed down your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your collarbone.

Your back bowed off the bed as he took one pert nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the hardened peak. Pleasure sparked through your veins, your magick responding to his in a dizzying feedback loop of sensation.

“Namjoon, please,” you whimpered, your hips canting up in search of friction. “I need more.”

You felt his lips spread in a wicked grin against the tender skin of your chest before blazing a fiery path down the center of your abdomen. Each lick of his tongue and nip of his teeth ratcheted you higher, making you eager for more. His journey south continued with a swirl of his tongue around your navel before dipping lower, his breath hot against your core. Your fingers tangled in his hair, urging him closer, desperate for the sweet relief only he could provide.

Namjoon obliged your begging moans by delving his tongue into your folds, lapping at your essence like a man starved. Your hips bucked against his face, your head thrown back in ecstasy as he worked you closer and closer to the edge. Just as you were about to shatter, he pulled away, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“Not yet,” he murmured, his voice a sinful promise. “I want to feel you come apart around me.”

He settled between your thighs, the blunt head of his length pressing against your entrance. With a slow, deliberate thrust, Namjoon sheathed himself inside you, filling you so completely that you saw stars. Your walls stretched to accommodate his girth, the delicious burn of it making you gasp. He stilled for a moment, allowing you both to adjust to the intensity of the connection, his forehead resting against yours as you shared the same breath.

"You feel incredible," he whispered, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "Like you were made for me."

Your heart swelled at his words, the depth of emotion behind them making your magick sing. You rolled your hips experimentally, reveling in the way his length dragged against your sensitive walls. Namjoon groaned, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as he began to move.

He set a steady rhythm, each thrust hitting that spot deep within you that made your toes curl. Your nails raked down his back, urging him on, needing him to go faster, harder, deeper. Namjoon obliged, his hips snapping against yours with increasing fervor, the sound of skin on skin mingling with your breathy moans.

The air around you crackled with energy, your magick intertwining with his in a dizzying dance. It pulsed through your veins, heightening every sensation until you felt like you might combust from its sheer intensity. Namjoon's lips found yours once more, his kisses sloppy and desperate as he chased his own release.

"Let go," he panted against your mouth, his hand snaking between your bodies to rub tight circles around your clit. "Come for me, my love."

His words, combined with the relentless onslaught of pleasure, pushed you over the edge. Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, your walls clenching around him as you cried out his name. Namjoon followed soon after, his hips stuttering as he spilled himself inside you with a guttural moan.

In the aftermath, you clung to each other, your bodies slick with sweat and your hearts racing in tandem. As the haze of passion slowly dissipated, you were left with a profound sense of rightness, as if everything in your life had been leading up to this moment.

Namjoon brushed a tender kiss against your temple, his arms tightening around you. "That was..."

"Magickal," you finished for him, a smile playing at the corners of your lips.

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "In more ways than one."

As you lay there, your limbs entangled and your magick humming contentedly, you knew this was more than just a physical connection. It was a merging of souls, a recognition of the unbreakable bond that had been forged in the heat of the battle and the depths of betrayal.

For now, though, you allowed yourself to bask in the glow of this perfect moment. You lay entwined with Namjoon, your head resting on his broad chest as his fingers traced idle patterns along your spine. The steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear soothed you, a reminder that you had found a moment of peace and connection amidst the chaos and uncertainty.

Namjoon pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering in your hair. “I never thought I could feel this way,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “But with you, it’s like everything makes sense. Like I’ve found a piece of myself I didn’t even know was missing.”

You tilted your chin up to meet his gaze, your heart swelling at the raw honesty you saw reflected in his eyes. “I feel the same way,” you whispered, your fingers coming up to trace the sharp line of his jaw. “It’s as if our magick, our very souls, were meant to intertwine.”

He captured your hand in his, bringing it to his lips to press a reverent kiss to your palm. “I think they were,” he said softly. “All this time, we’ve been fighting against each other when we should have been fighting side by side. Our covens, our rivalry… it all seems so trivial now, in the face of what we’re up against.”

You nodded, a flicker of worry piercing the blissful haze. “Wooshik won’t stop until he has the relic...” You trailed off, unable to voice the full extent of your fears.

Namjoon’s arms tightened around you, his strength a reassuring presence. “We’ll stop him,” he said firmly, a steely determination in his tone. “Together. Our magick is stronger when we’re united. I can feel it. We just have to trust in each other and in the bond we share.”

You let his words wash over you, a balm to your troubled soul. He was right. Apart, you were formidable, but together? You were an unstoppable force, your magick weaving and amplifying in ways you had never experienced before. It was as if your very essences were in sync, a perfect harmony of power and purpose.

“Together,” you echoed, sealing the promise with a searing kiss. As your lips moved against his, you felt a renewed sense of hope and determination flood through you. No matter the challenges, you knew that you could face anything with Namjoon by your side.

You broke the kiss reluctantly, your foreheads resting against each other as you caught your breath. The first rays of dawn filtered through the trees, casting a soft golden glow over you. You disentangled yourself from Namjoon’s embrace, your fingers lingering on his skin as you pulled back, not wanting to break contact.

Namjoon sighed, pulling you close with a hand around your nape to have one last lingering kiss. Breaking apart, he rubbed his nose against yours. “Momo and Yoongi are probably waiting.”

Chapter Three

[joonslfttiddie]

Bound By Magic | Chapter One

🪄Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

🪄AU/Genre: E2L, Magical AU, smut

🪄WC: 11,698

🪄Warnings: smut, minor character death

A/N: This is for @lo1k-diamonds as a part of @bangtanwritershq Sweet Tricks and Wicked Treats exchange.

Thank you to my betas: @colormepurplex2, @moonleeai, and @pars-ley

Summary:

In a world of magic, a centuries-old rivalry exists between two powerful witches. Their mutual animosity is intense, fueled by their constant competition and clashing personalities. Despite their hatred, they are inexplicably drawn to each other's power.

When a dark force threatens the magical realm, they are forced to unite against a common enemy. As they work together, a reluctant respect and attraction grows between them. A pivotal moment, where the witch heals the injured warlock, ignites a powerful connection.

Realizing their intertwined destinies, they embrace their love and combined magic to defeat the darkness. Their newfound unity proves that love can conquer even the deepest-rooted hatred, forging a powerful bond that will shape the future of the magical world.

Chapter One

You stood across the staged area of the arena from your longstanding adversary. You and Namjoon have been at each other’s throats for as long as you can remember. The two of you had been in a constant competition of one-upmanship that others may have considered friendly, but in reality, it was anything but.

The two of you were raised to view the opposite faction as the enemy due to superiority complexes, a mindset that hasn’t budged much for either of you despite those stereotypes being broken down decades ago. Witches’ magickal abilities were rooted in elements and nature, contradicting warlocks' more arcane-based magick. 

Eventually, witches and warlocks slowly began collaborating and breaking down the barriers that formerly held strong. This collaboration proved that great things could happen when the two factions worked together instead of against each other.  However, you and Namjoon were stubborn and locked in a continuous battle of wills. Every year, you were allowed to best the other at the annual magickal competition, The Spellbound Tournament.

You were fully prepared to show Namjoon who the better spellcaster was when a deafening blast tore through the air, searing heat and blinding light engulfing you. Instinctively, you lifted a shimmering shield against the shock wave that slammed into your body. Chaos erupted around you - panicked screams mingling with the crackle of flames and crumbling stones. As the ringing in your ears subsided, you blinked away the spots dancing before your eyes. The magickal stadium lay in ruins, ancient seats reduced to rubble. Acrid smoke stung your nostrils. Your heart raced wildly, pounding fiercely against your ribcage as if trying to break free, each beat echoing like a war drum in the silence of the moment.

Scanning the destruction, you spotted Namjoon staggering to his feet, robes tattered and face smudged with soot. His sharp gaze locked with yours, a flicker of concern behind the hardened exterior despite his often declared hatred of you. You nodded curtly, conveying a silent check - I'm alive, if not unscathed.

Haneul's voice, a sage wizard that everyone listens to without hesitation, cut through the din, commanding attention. "Quickly! Over here!" They stood atop a jutting stone slab, silver hair whipping around their face.

You and Namjoon picked your way over the rubble and debris, joined by other dazed survivors of the blast. Haneul's eyes, usually placid pools of wisdom, now churned urgently. Aching and battered, most gather in front of Hanuel as others take care of the ones who are gravely injured… or worse.

"This was no mere explosion," they declared gravely. "Wooshik has made his move. Even now, his dark forces mobilize to seize control."

A chill shivered down your spine at the mention of that name - the warlock whose ambitions threatened the very fabric of your world. You exchanged a tense glance with Namjoon, animosity temporarily forgotten in the face of this revelation.

"We...we have to stop him," you managed, voice rough from inhaled smoke. "Whatever it takes."

Haneul nodded solemnly. "Indeed. And it will require the two of you working together." They pierced you and Namjoon with a knowing glare, a glint in their eyes as if seeing a future only they could perceive. "Only your combined strengths can thwart Wooshik's scheme."

Namjoon's jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. You could practically feel the waves of reluctance rolling off him, mirroring your own hesitation. Years of rivalry, of traded barbs and clashing magicks, hung between you - a chasm not easily bridged.

But Haneul's words rang with an ominous finality. The fate of everything you held dear hinged upon this tentative alliance with your sworn adversary. Failure was not an option.

Slowly, deliberately, you extended a hand to Namjoon. His obsidian eyes delved into yours, searching for any hint of deceit. You met his probing gaze unflinchingly, willing him to see the grim resolve within.

After a moment that stretched for an eternity, his larger palm enveloped yours. His skin, warm and callused against your own, sent a jolt of awareness through you.

"For the covens," he gritted out. "And the realm."

You squeezed his hand, sealing the pact. "For the realm," you echoed.

As you stood amidst the smoking ruins, hands clasped with your erstwhile enemy, a sense of destiny settled upon your shoulders. The path ahead promised peril and unknown challenges.

But one truth crystallized in your mind, sharp and unassailable - you would face them together or not at all.

A piercing shriek cracked through the air, shattering the newly formed yet fragile peace. Your head snapped up, instincts screaming of imminent danger. Beside you, Namjoon tensed, his hand falling from yours to the hilt of his blade.

From the depths of the swirling clouds of dust and debris, a ghastly creature emerged, its form writhing and shifting like a shadow in the dim light. Its eerie silhouette loomed larger as it stepped forward, eyes glinting with a malevolent glow. Gnarled limbs reached out, each movement echoing the horrors of forgotten nightmares. Its scales shimmered like polished obsidian, capturing and refracting the light in jagged glimmers. Each thunderous step echoed ominously, as razor-sharp talons drove deep into the earth, leaving behind jagged furrows that spoke of its immense power. Those menacing eyes, glowing with a sinister intelligence, locked onto you and Namjoon, radiating an unsettling awareness that sent chills coursing down your spine.

One of Wooshik's twisted creations unleashed to test your newfound alliance.

"Flank it from both sides!" Namjoon barked, his voice ringing with authority. 

You moved to obey, along with everyone else, muscle memory overriding the strangeness of taking orders from him. As you circled the beast, your magick hummed beneath your skin, yearning for release.

The creature lunged, a blur of shadow and fury. You lunged aside, feeling the whisper of its claws mere inches from your face. Namjoon retaliated with a blast of arcane energy, but the beast shrugged it off, its hide impervious to single attacks.

"We need to strike together!" you yelled, understanding eventually dawning. "Combine our magick!"

Namjoon's eyes met yours, a split-second of perfect understanding passing between you. You began to weave an intricate spell, your power intertwining with his: fire and ice, light and shadow, two opposites melding into a devastating whole.

The beast charged again, its roar shaking the very ground you stood on. You held your position. Namjoon moved behind you, a solid presence at your back, his arms bracketing yours. At the last possible moment, you released your spell, a searing bolt of energy that struck the creature head-on.

It stumbled, howling in pain and rage. Namjoon pressed, using the advantage, his blade flashing in a deadly arc. The creature's blood sprayed across the shattered earth, black and viscous.

But it wasn't enough. The beast rallied, its wounds knitting together with unnatural speed. It lashed out with its tail, catching Namjoon across the chest and sending him flying.

With a wordless shout, you unleashed the full might of your magick, pouring every ounce of your strength into a final, desperate assault. The air crackled with power, your veins burning with its force.

The creature staggered, its defenses crumbling beneath the onslaught. Namjoon, battered but unbroken, surged to his feet, his blade finding the beast's heart in a single, perfect thrust. 

As the creature fell, its dying scream echoing across the battlefield, you sagged to your knees, spent. Namjoon limped to your side, his hand finding your shoulder as he stood over you, hunched forward but managing to stay on his feet.

"We did it," he rasped, his voice tinged with something akin to wonder.

You nodded, too exhausted for words. But as you knelt there amidst the carnage and the chaos, you felt the first stirrings of something new, fragile, and profound.

A connection forged in the heat of battle. A partnership tempered by shared peril and sacrifice.

The dust settled around you, the eerie silence broken only by the ragged sound of your own breathing. Namjoon's hand tightened on your shoulder, his touch a lifeline in the aftermath of the chaos. You met his gaze and saw your own exhaustion and relief mirrored in those fathomless depths.

But there was no time to rest, no moment to savor your victory. The battle was far from over, and Wooshik's forces wouldn’t be far behind. They would need more support if they were ever to defeat Wooshik successfully.

As if summoned by your thoughts, three figures emerged from the shadows, their faces grim with determination. You instantly recognized them - Bae Suzy, Min Yoongi, and Hirai Momo. Momo and Suzy are members of your coven, the Daughters of Gaia, while Yoong is a member of Namjoon’s, The Inkwell Society.

"We came as soon as we heard," Suzy said, her voice low and urgent remorse laced through her voice from not attending the tournament in the first place. "Wooshik's creatures are everywhere, and his power grows by the moment."

Yoongi nodded, his cat-like eyes narrowed. "We have to stop him before it's too late."

Beside you, you watched Namjoon struggle to remain on his feet, but his jaw is set with determination. "Then we will," he said, his voice ringing with conviction as he straightened to his full height. "Together."

Momo stepped forward, her hands already glowing with the telltale shimmer of her healing magick. "Let me help," she murmured, her touch moving over Namjoon, caring for his injuries, before turning her attention to you. She ran her hands over you gently, mending your minor wounds and bruises.

You felt the warmth of her power flowing through you, knitting torn flesh and easing the ache of bruised bones and muscles. But even as your body mended, your mind raced with the enormity of the task before you.

Wooshik was a formidable foe, his mastery of the dark arts unmatched. And yet, as you looked around at the faces of your friends, at the determined set of Namjoon's shoulders, you felt a flicker of hope.

"We can do this," you said, your voice soft but certain. "We have to."

Suzy nodded, her green eyes glinting with resolve. "We'll stand with you," she said, her words a solemn vow. "Until the end."

Yoongi's lips quirked in a wry smile. "Well, let's just hope the end isn't today," he drawled, his dry humor a welcome respite from the tension.

Namjoon's hand found your shoulder again, gripping it firmly in a silent promise. "It won't be," he said, his voice low and fierce. "Not if we have anything to say about it."

And as you stood there, surrounded by your friends and temporary allies' strength and loyalty, you felt a surge of determination. Wooshik may have been powerful, but he had underestimated the true might of your covens.

🪄🪄🪄

You, along with Namjoon and your friends, infiltrated a coven of acolytes known to be loyal to Wooshik and overheard a hushed conversation between two of Wooshik’s most dedicated followers. The witches spoke in hushed tones, their words barely audible over the nearby crackling fire. 

“Have you heard the latest from Wooshik?” one of the witches asked. “He’s been searching high and low for that ancient artifact. It is said that it holds the power to reshape reality itself.”

“I’ve heard rumors,” the other replied. “They say it’s hidden deep within the ruins of the Shadow Keep, a place long forgotten by time.”

Hearts pounding with excitement and dread, you knew you had to act quickly. The artifact was the key to stopping Wooshik. From the overheard conversation, you understood that the journey would be full of treacherous terrain, ancient curses, and the watchful eyes of Wooshik’s minions. 

Undeterred, you set off on a quest to beat Wooshik to the artifact. The trek was grueling, filled with challenges at every turn. With determination, you all brave numerous treacherous mountain passes, crossed raging rivers and fought off attacks from monstrous creatures lurking in the shadows.

Finally, after days of arduous travel, the ancient ruins appeared before you. The once-grand structures were now crumbling, their spires reaching skyward like skeletal fingers grasping at the churning clouds. The stone walls were now covered in overgrown vines. The legends are undeniable. Seeing it before you, the walls pulsed with the immense power you all knew lay within. 

As you drew closer, an unnatural hush fell over your band, a sense of foreboding washed over all of you. The air was heavy with a strange, almost palpable energy, and the ruins seemed to watch you with an eerie silence. A chill ran down your spine as you realized you were not alone. Unseen eyes followed your every move, their presence lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Namjoon moved at your side, his presence comforting in this eerie stillness. Since your battle against Wooshik's beast, a subtle shift had occurred between you - an unspoken understanding, a shared purpose that transcended your rivalry. His gaze met yours, dark eyes reflecting your own unease even as his jaw set with determination.

“We’re almost there,” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the rustling of leaves and the distant hoot of an owl. “Just a little further.”

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. The ruins loomed ahead, their ancient stones casting long, menacing shadows. You shivered as you recalled the words of the acolytes who had led you here.

As you drew closer, the air grew even more oppressive. The once-vibrant colors of the forest seemed to fade, replaced by a sickly pallor. A low, guttural growl echoed from the depths of the ruins.

“Something’s wrong,” Namjoon said with his voice low. He tightened his grip on his sword, his eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of danger. 

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the darkness ahead. It was a monstrous creature, its body a grotesque amalgamation of human and beast. Its eyes glowed with an unnatural light, and its claws dripped with a foul, green substance, yet traces of its origin alluded to its fall from grace.

“A fallen guardian,” Namjoon hissed. “We have to be careful.”

With widened eyes, Momo gulps, “That doesn’t look like any guardian I’ve ever seen.”

Namjoon’s mouth flattened into a grim line. “Unfortunately, this one has been possessed and twisted into this demented creature.”

The creature let out a blood-curdling roar and lunged at your group. Namjoon met it with a flurry of sword strikes, his movements swift and precise. But the creature was incredibly strong, and it knocked Namjoon off his feet.

Before the creature could strike again, you leaped forward, your blade glinting in the moonlight. You managed to deflect the creature’s attack, but the force of the blow sent you reeling backward.

Yoongi, Suzy, and Momo joined the fray. As the creature was about to strike again, Yoongi unleashed a barrage of fireballs, forcing it to retreat. Suzy jumped in with her agility to dodge the creature’s attacks and landed a few blows of her own. Stepping up, Momo released her unique powers - just like she could heal with kind hands, she could use that same magick to find even the most minor injuries and transform them into gaping wounds.

The battle raged on, with the clash of metal on flesh and whizzing blasts of magick echoing through the ruins. You fought with everything you had,  fear fueling your determination. Namjoon, Yoongi, Suzy, and Momo also fought valiantly, their combined skills a formidable force against the monstrous creature.

You all fought with a ferocity that surprised even yourselves, the bond between your alliance growing stronger with each passing moment. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you managed to land the critical blow that brought the beast to its knees. With a final agonizing roar, it collapses to the ground, finally dead.

The air was now thick with the stench of blood and sweat, and the ruins were bathed in a haunting silence.  Now exhausted but triumphant, you leaned against each other, struggling to remain on your feet. You braced yourselves and prepared for what lay ahead, sure this would not be the last hurdle. 

Yoongi’s rasp finally broke the silence, “We did it.” 

You all moved deeper into the ruins, hearts pounding anxiously. You knew the artifact was close and were determined to retrieve it before Wooshik could get his hands on it.

The path led you through a series of winding corridors, each one more labyrinthine than the last. The air was thick with dust, the faint smell of decay, and strange, alien symbols carved into the walls.

Finally, you came to a large, circular chamber. In the center of the chamber was a pedestal, upon which rested a glowing orb. The sphere pulsed with an otherworldly energy, and a sense of awe washed over you and your friends as you gazed upon it.

“This must be it,” Suzy breathed, her voice filled with wonder.

Before you could touch it, a sinister chuckle echoed through the chamber. A figure emerged from the shadows, his form shrouded in darkness. Wooshik. His eyes glowed with a malevolent light. 

“So, you’ve finally found it,” he taunted, his voice dripping with venom. “But it is too late. The artifact is mine now. Thank you for finding it for me.” You glower at him, the links clicking into place that you were used. A pawn in his game to find what he had sought for years since his corruptness prevented him from knowing where to find it. 

Namjoon stepped forward, placing himself between you and the dark warlock, a former member of his coven. No one had seen hide nor hair of him since he disappeared a few years ago after absconding away with The Crimson Grimoire, an ancient tome containing dark magick. "Your schemes end here, Wooshik," he snarled, power crackling around his clenched fists.

Wooshik raised his hand, a wave of dark energy seeping from his palm. The air seemed to vibrate with the force of his malice as several more warlocks stepped out from the shadows behind him.

Namjoon's hand found yours, gripping tightly. You met his gaze and saw the grim determination etched into every line of his face. In that moment, you understood each other perfectly - no matter what came next, you would face it together.

As one, you grabbed your wands, power surging through you like a raging flood. Suzy, Yoongi, and Momo fell into formation beside you, their magicks intertwining with yours until the very stones trembled beneath your feet.

Wooshik's face contorted in a rictus of rage, his eyes twin pits of obsidian madness. "You cannot stop me!" he roared, his voice reverberating through the chamber. "I will tear the power from your broken bodies and ascend to godhood!"

"Never!" Namjoon gritted out. “We will fight you to our last breath!"

Wooshik raised his hands, dark energy coalescing around him. The ground beneath your feet began to crack and splinter, the ancient ruins groaning as if in agony.

Namjoon's eyes met yours, a wealth of understanding passing between you in that split second. You knew what needed to be done, the sacrifice that victory would demand.

“Fine. Go ahead and cosign your death certificates. I am destined for godhood, for glory eternal.”

You prepared to defend yourselves but weren’t ready for the immense power emanating from Wooshik. Before you could strike first, a wave of energy threw everyone to the ground, adding to the injuries on your already battered and bruised bodies.

Just as Wooshik was about to seize the artifact, a blinding light filled the chamber. Looking up, eyes squinting and hand thrown up to lessen the intense light, a figure stood before them, clad in shimmering robes and radiating an aura of pure power. It was the ancient guardian of the artifact, awakened from its slumber by Wooshik’s intrusion.

The guardian raised his hand, and a beam of pure energy shot forth from his palm, striking Wooshik with a devastating force and sending him flying backward.  

With a groan, Wooshik achingly moved to sit up. “This…is impossible,” he gasped, his once commanding voice reduced to a wheezing rattle. “I am destined for godhood, for glory eternal…”

Namjoon shook his head, grim satisfaction in his eyes as he watched his foe crumble before the guardian here to defend the obscure artifact. “Your only destiny is oblivion, Wooshik. You’ve sown nothing but suffering and ruin. Now, you’ll reap the consequences.”

Wooshik’s eyes bulged, his handsome face contorting into a mask of pure hatred. With a final, desperate howl, he lunged to his feet and rushed at your group, hands outstretched like claws seeking to rend and tear.

But his strength was spent, his power broken. Yoongi’s blade flashed in a silver arc, biting deep into the dark warlock’s chest. Wooshik staggered back, a look of almost comical surprise on his face as he glanced down at the blooming crimson stain.

Before Yoongi could strike the killing blow, the remainder of Wooshik’s men grabbed the injured foe and disappeared in the blink of an eye.

The guardian turned to the remaining witches and warlocks, his eyes filled with a serene light. He gestured towards the artifact, and a gentle, unseen force lifted it into the air. The orb hovered above the guardian for a moment, then descended into his outstretched palm.

“Take it,” the guardian encouraged, his voice echoing through the chamber. “It is yours to protect.”

With wide, blinking eyes, you took the mysterious artifact from the guardian’s hand. A wave of power surged through you, filling you with a newfound strength and determination.

The guardian faded away as you stepped away from the dais. You turned back to the group, your eyes meeting theirs. A silent understanding passed between you. All of you knew that this fight was far from over. 

🪄🪄🪄

Hours later, you all settled around a campfire, nursing your wounds.

Namjoon looked at you as you both stood off to the side near where your tents were set up—something unreadable flickering in the depths of his dark eyes. “Well, at least we managed to injure him gravely. That should buy us time to recoup and end him for good,” he rasped, his voice hoarse from shouting.

You nodded, your heart heavy with a mixture of relief and dread. The battle had been exhausting both physically and emotionally. You were unsure if you had the strength to face Wooshik again, especially not after almost losing today.

His large hands cupped your shoulders, gently running his palms down your arms. “You’ve been quiet.”

You looked up, sadness echoing in your eyes. “I’ve been thinking about what happened. About how close we came to losing.”

“I’m scared, too,” Namjoon admitted. “Scared that we won’t be able to stop Wooshik. Scared that we’ll all die.”

You reached up, pulling his hand from your shoulder and cupping it in yours. “We won’t die,” you reassured, your voice firm. We’re too strong, too determined.”

A small smile spread his plump lips. “You’re right. We are.” A flicker of hope returned to his eyes.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, Namjoon leaned down, his forehead coming to rest against yours. His breath ghosted across your lips, and a gasp caught in your throat, a sudden swell of emotion threatening to overwhelm you. The walls you had so carefully constructed, the barriers you had erected to keep him at a distance, crumbled in the face of his raw honesty.

"Namjoon, I..." Your words trailed off, lost in the depths of his gaze.

And then, before you could think and he could second-guess himself, he was kissing you. His soft and insistent lips pressed against yours with a desperate urgency, a need that mirrored the ache in your own heart. Your eyes fluttered closed, and you surrendered to the sensation, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.

The kiss was electric, a spark that ignited a fire within you. Years of tension, of unspoken longing, poured into that single, searing moment. You could taste the salt of his sweat, the coppery tang of blood, but beneath it all, there was something else: something sweet and intoxicating, a promise of what could be.

"Ahem." A pointed cough shattered the spell, and you jerked apart, your cheeks flushed and your heart racing.

Suzy, Yoongi, and Momo sat a few feet away, their expressions a mix of surprise, amusement, and concern. Suzy's eyebrows were raised, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. Yoongi's face was carefully neutral, but you could see the calculations whirring behind his eyes. And Momo... Momo looked torn. Her gaze darted between you and Namjoon with a flicker of worry in her eyes.

"Well, that was... unexpected," Suzy drawled, her voice laced with barely contained laughter.

You felt heat rising in your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and defiance. "I... we..."

"It's not what you think," Namjoon said, his voice steady despite the tension in his shoulders. "We were just... caught up in the moment."

Yoongi's eyes narrowed, his gaze probing. "And what, exactly, is this moment going to mean for our mission? For our team?"

The question hung in the air, heavy with implication. You swallowed hard, your mind racing. What did this mean? For you, for Namjoon, for the battle that lay ahead?

"It means," you said slowly, choosing your words carefully, "that we're stronger together. That we'll face whatever comes, side by side."

Namjoon nodded in silent affirmation. 

The peace you all had found as you rested, recouping from the long day,  for the night was short-lived. A sudden, searing pain lanced through your skull, driving you to your knees. Distantly, you heard Namjoon cry out and felt his hands on your shoulders as he, too, crumpled under the onslaught.

Images flashed behind your eyelids, vivid and disjointed. A towering citadel, wreathed in shadow. Wooshik, his face contorted in a rictus of mad triumph. And a figure, cloaked and hooded, standing at the dark warlock's side.

As abruptly as it had come, the vision receded, leaving you gasping and disoriented. Namjoon's face swam into focus above you, his eyes wide with concern and a reflection of the same haunted knowledge.

"What… what was that?" Suzy demanded, her voice shaking slightly as she helped Momo to her feet.

"A warning," you managed, your tongue thick and clumsy in your mouth. "Wooshik… he's not alone. He has an ally, someone powerful."

Namjoon nodded grimly, his hand finding yours and gripping tight. "I saw it too. A dark citadel and a figure in the shadows..."

Yoongi's brow furrowed. "Another warlock? Or something worse?"

You shook your head, frustration welling in your chest. "I don't know. But whatever it is, we're running out of time. We need to get back to the others and warn them."

Chapter Two

[joonslfttiddie]

🧵Woven by Moonlight, Stitched by Sunshine🧵

🪡Pairing: Yoongi x OFC (Park Yujin)

🪡 AU: Fantasy (very mild smut, angst)

🪡 Rating: M

🪡Trope: Strangers to Lovers/Fated Lovers 

🪡 Wordcount: 7, 574

#BangtanWHQ

Story written for Jasz - @downbad4yoongi as part of the BangtanWHQ Exchange Event “Sweet Tricks & Wicked Treats”

Park Yujin

Since she was a baby, Yujin was always drawn to the night sky, often cooing and reaching out to the moon. As a child, she loved to spin and twirl in the moonlight, the evening breeze sweeping under her shin-length cotton dresses, sending them to dance along with her on the wind.

“Yujin. Come inside, dear. The sun has long since retired, and you’ve yet to have your supper,” her mother often called out to her, not allowing her to stay out too late and watching her like a hawk. Her mother believed that the hoodlums of the moonlight realm would emerge from the shadows on the earth with only torment and ill intent in mind.

One of the most modern myths that spread throughout the kingdom was that the barren Moon Kingdom actually resided underground, beneath the sunlit realm, instead of across the outlawed old, deteriorating bridge nearby. They believed it made sense for the Moon Kingdom to be below, as even their moon literally fed off their sun; their brighter kingdom, obviously, being superior.

“Yes, mother. Coming!” Yujin replied.

Her mother never stifled her free-spirited child, allowing her to express herself as she saw fit. However, she was concerned that her child, born to the Sunlit Realm, showed such a strange interest in the moon. While the other children made their way inside as soon as the sun began to sink in the sky, Yujin could be found sitting or lying in the grass, watching the night sky. By acting this way, others considered her odd, but her beauty was undeniable. Often compared to their revered sun, her golden skin shone the brightest among anyone else; almost abnormally so. Since she had come of age, the gentlemen of the surrounding villages had no qualms about making their interest in her known.

“Yujin, would you like to accompany me for a picnic under the large willow tree? The sun will be highest in the sky at noon. I would be most delighted to witness the new dance routine you’ve been perfecting.”

“Such beauty as yours is seldom seen. I’ve yet to behold anyone more fair.”

“Your beauty and bronze complexion could induce me to forgive your unusual behavior.”

These comments meant nothing to her, even when the elders in the villages spoke of the lack of soulmates and encouraged her to entertain those foolish men. Something deep down inside urged Yujin to wait, knowing that her soulmate was out there. She would know it and believed that she would feel it instantly when she finally met them. Until then, she would continue to perfect her craft: dancing. Aside from her beauty, she was also renowned in the area for her gift. Everyone praised her gracefulness and fluid movements that seemed to flow like the sun’s rays. But Yujin always felt like something was missing and continued striving for what her mother called “fantastical ambitions.”

“Perfection, my love, is merely an illusion. But your skill, as it is, is unmatched. Your talent lacks nothing, dear. You are truly marvelous, but I fear that your pursuit is unattainable.”

Yujin knew that her mother’s words were meant to be encouraging, but they were far from that. They felt more like backhanded compliments, as if to say “lower your expectations” or that this was as good as it gets. After one of their many talks, Yujin would sneak out, aware of how her parents would react if they knew where she was going. She always found herself wandering to her favorite spot in the kingdom, near the river. She could always find peace there and would either dance or simply gaze up at the night sky in the field next to the old bridge.

On one of those fateful nights, Yujin spun and twirled right next to the rickety bridge, the closest she had ever gotten to the forbidden place—just out of arm's reach while avoiding the gravel path. Mid-twirl, her barefoot met with something sharp, causing her to drop to the ground to find what had scraped against her skin.

“Ow!” Yujin landed on the plush grass of the meadow. She pulled her foot closer in an attempt to see under the moonlight, her eyes not fully accustomed to the dim lighting. “Troublesome Devil’s thorn,” she scoffed as she pulled the burr from her heel and rubbed her finger along her skin.

Before she attempted to stand back on her feet, she squinted her eyes, noticing something sparkling under the moonlight. Carefully, she reached out to pinch the object, unsure of what it could be but praying that it wasn't a worm or some other pest. Yujin picked it up and held it closer to her face to identify exactly what it was.

“Thread? Why is this here? And how does it glow in such a peculiar way?” She was fascinated by the strand, unable to keep her eyes off it, noticing that it resembled the birthmark on the inside of her left wrist. She walked back home while observing it, pulling at it and holding it between her palms to peek into the darkness she created, where it still shone.

Min Yoongi

For as long as he could remember, Yoongi had dreamt of delicate sun rays whirling around him. They would spin and twirl, their movements elegant and precise. In his dream, an intricate tapestry hung high behind him, displaying the features of a woman. He had had this dream dozens of times but had never been able to see her clearly, with blurry parts and fragmented pieces preventing a clear view. When he woke, he longed for her warmth; his dream slowly became a nightmare over the years. The golden presence reminded him of a tale told to him by his grandmother when he was a child.

“Once upon a time, our realms dwelt in harmony, with our folk often finding their kindred spirits among the folk of the other kingdom. Some moon weavers could predict a person’s soulmate, interlocking that person’s distinct features within the fabric. That is until those on the other side of the bridge grew full of pride and began to believe themselves superior to us,” she would tell him, “cursing the connection between the realms.” He noticed that his grandmother had lost a lot of her vigor, and her health seemed to be declining quickly, but he attributed it to her old age. “It is my advice that you steer clear of that bridge. Their hostility toward us is a mystery to me, and I cannot predict their actions should they encounter a citizen of our realm.”

While the people of each realm had their differences, clear indicators that a person was from the Moonlight Kingdom included their pale skin and the heavy coverings they wore to protect themselves from the sun when out during the day, which was rare.

Yoongi took heed of her words and resisted the pull he felt to the forbidden place, but he could still feel the heat on his skin and see the rays haunting him as he worked. With the skills she had passed down to him, Yoongi had made a name for himself as the best weaver in Moonlight, able to capture visions of dreams, passions, and emotions within his pieces, yet they often felt incomplete to him. He remembered looking at his grandmother's tapestries, amazed at the details and even the people she was able to capture like a snapshot. Though he had not reached that level of expertise, unable to capture the features of a person, people still traveled far and wide to commission a tapestry from Min Yoongi, and none were ever sent away underwhelmed by his talents. He was praised and adored by many, with many maidens wanting to claim him as their own, alongside his celebrated status.

“Your craftsmanship is truly remarkable. This is the most beautiful tapestry I have ever laid eyes upon,” people from the surrounding villages would praise.

“A gentleman of your standing must surely be seeking a suitable match,” others would probe in hopes of marrying off their daughters.

While he was grateful that the people were pleased with his weavings, the offerings of a bride did not excite him. Rather, he enjoyed the idea of finding his soulmate as his grandmother had exclaimed about from days long gone. Maybe his bride would be of the Moonlight instead of the Sunlit as it could have been in the past, but he decided to lean on the idea that he would know it and believed that he would feel it instantly when he finally met her.

One night, the moon was nearly full and he felt the pull to the bridge like the moon pulls the waves of the sea. The attraction seemed to tug on the very fabric of his being, causing Yoongi to disregard his grandmother’s warning and venture beyond his comfort zone.

“I shouldn’t be this close. I should go back,” his mind attempted to communicate to his heart, but it was unsuccessful as he walked closer. His heart raced when he began to hear the burbling of the small river, indicating that the bridge was near. “Go back, you fool!”

Despite his own scolding, his feet led him to the bridge, the river’s white noise drowning out any other sounds along with that anxious feeling that threatened to overtake him. He had no intention of crossing the bridge, as getting within arm’s reach of it seemed challenging enough. It looked as if it were meant for horses and carriages to move across it at one point, but they hadn’t for some time. Stepping foot on it could likely send him tumbling into the river.

Instead, he sat on the gravel path next to the river and allowed the sound of the water, babbling along, to soothe him. Surprisingly, the sound seemed to alleviate that ache within his chest that he had become accustomed to; it felt foreign—he felt incomplete without his pain. However, he allowed his mind to wander about how things would be if the kingdoms could reconcile. This reminded him of how he had foolishly told his grandmother, nearly 20 years ago, that he would be the one to fix all of this mess.

“Well, can no one converse with them to mend the situation?”

“If life were but so simple,” his grandmother had answered. “I have seen that the only solution to our trouble would be the creation of a unique tapestry crafted from the wool and threads of both kingdoms. What do you make of that, Yoongi?”

A young and naive Yoongi had replied, “I could do it for you, Grandma Mirae. I shall put your teachings to good use.”

“Oh, dear. Great things shall you accomplish,” she had stated.

Just then, movement from his right side, across the bridge, pulled him from his thoughts. That’s when he noticed her: a girl dancing beautifully under the moonlight with such grace that he was captivated. She moved in a way that seemed intimate, like he shouldn’t be watching, but he was unable to pull his eyes off her. Naturally accustomed to the dimness of night, he was able to take in all of her features—her beautiful golden skin, the plumpness of her lips, the roundness of her breasts, and the fullness of her hips made him bite his own lip. Yoongi had not witnessed such beauty even once in the Moonlight Kingdom.

“She must be of Sunlit, but what is she doing here and up this late?” Yoongi pondered, mesmerized. In Moonlight, the citizens lived their lives under the guidance of the moon and slept when the sun illuminated the lands. It was the opposite for Sunlit, as they bustled around under the sun’s heat and slept as the moon hung high. The circadian rhythms of the citizens of the Moonlight Kingdom made them nocturnal, but to his understanding, the people of Sunlit rested during these hours, so why was she here?

He couldn't help it as his eyes danced across her figure while her body twirled and swayed, the cloth of her loose dress crawling up her thighs each time she lifted her arms. Her movements flowed effortlessly with such beauty that dared to compete with her face. “Good heavens! The Lord did indeed take his time when crafting her.”

When she fell, Yoongi, out of reflex, reached his arms out as if to catch her, though he was yards away. He watched her as she sat in the grass, nursing her wound, and hoped that she was okay. Resisting the urge to call out to her, afraid of how she might respond, he watched as she gathered herself and began to skip away, unharmed, on her way home, he assumed. There was something about this mystery woman that felt familiar.

Park Yujin

Yujin made it home and managed to sneak back in undetected. She tossed and turned for the remainder of the night but eventually managed to sleep a little. When she woke up, she immediately found the string and began to toy with it, gliding it between her fingertips and carefully pulling it taut. It didn’t seem to glimmer as it had before, now that it was in the sunlight. Instead, it looked like any other piece of string from a regular tapestry seen throughout the kingdom. She wound and coiled the thread along her wrist to match perfectly with her birthmark. Sitting in her room, she continued to observe the thread and recounted the dream she’d had just before waking. In her dream, she had come across a man sitting under the glow of the moon.

She couldn’t make out the man’s features, but his hands—possibly from working so hard—had green veins on the backs that protruded from his incredibly fair skin. She could tell he used them to make a living; they looked worn, blistered, and rough, yet his long, nimble fingers held such passion and talent. Though she was a lady, she couldn’t help but wonder how his hands would feel on her skin.

From what she could tell, he was weaving a small, colorful piece outside a modest home, and parts of the fabric seemed to glow like the thread she had seen before. Unfortunately, she could only make out a portion of the piece, as if zoomed in on its center. Driven by curiosity, she decided to visit a local weaver to get some answers.

“This silken thread, though lustrous, does not glow as you described. It is of the finest quality, unlike any I have seen within our realm," the aged woman remarked, eyeing Yujin with suspicion. "Pray tell, where did you acquire this treasure?”

“Have you ever seen a tapestry crafted with this material, depicting a man playing the gittern?”

“Not fashioned from such a rare thread. Where did you come by it?”

This had to be something from the Moonlight Kingdom.

“I am grateful for your kindness,” Yujin thanked the woman, taking her thread and buying a spool while avoiding her questions. She needed thread from the Sunlit Kingdom to compare when she eventually made it to the Moonlight Kingdom to ask someone there. She headed back home, resolved to find out tonight.

Min Yoongi

The woman remained on his mind throughout the night, and he prayed she’d made it home safely. He sat outside, letting the cool breeze dance across his skin while he worked on a smaller piece. His hands were manly and rough, yet his fingers were elegant and slender, skillfully maneuvering the colorful bobbins around the loom and adjusting the heddles to loosen the threads when needed. Though he was focused on his newest work, he couldn’t seem to get the mystery girl out of his mind. The rhythmic clicking of the wooden bobbins lulled him as he drifted into a trance, staring at the colorful threads at the center of the piece, where the belly of a gittern lay.

Deeper he fell into a void, blinding at first, until his eyes adjusted. There she was. The woman danced, much like she had by the river earlier, moving like a loose thread on the wind: free, light, and beautiful. The vision blended with the recurring dream he’d had for as long as he could remember. The sun’s rays that usually looped around him in his dreams began to move in unison with the woman, until they merged and became one. Now glowing with sunlight, she danced and twirled around him, her fingertips tracing his jawline, shoulder, and neck, leaving behind a line of heat on his skin.

It’s her! The woman from the river!

Just as he realized the light that had haunted him for decades was indeed her, he was snapped out of his vision by a passerby asking about his work. He answered quickly, trying not to appear rude but hoping to hurry the man along. Yoongi decided he would return to the river as soon as the sun set. For now, as dawn broke, he would try to get some rest.

Yoongi and Yujin

The day dragged along, with Yujin anxiously awaiting the moment she could return to the bridge. Yoongi finally fell asleep, but his slumber was restless, anticipation of seeing the woman again making him stir throughout the day.

Just as the sun began to dip below the skyline, Yujin prepared for her journey. Yoongi awoke, knowing he couldn’t focus on work until he saw her.

“Yujin, what are you doing in bed so soon? Have you fallen ill? Do you not wish to gaze upon the heavens tonight?” her father asked as he entered her room, noticing her absence outside.

“Good evening, Father,” Yujin replied. “I pray I’m not falling ill, but my body feels weary. I think it would be wise to retire early this evening.”

Her mother joined her father in the doorway, concern painting her face.

“You hardly touched your food at dinner. Shall I fetch you some tea? Perhaps I should stay with you rather than going to bed myself,” her mother offered, making Yujin’s eyes grow wide. That, absolutely, could not happen.

“NO!” Yujin’s tone surprised everyone, including herself. “Forgive me! But that is not necessary. I’m certain a good night’s rest will restore me. Thank you, Mother,” she corrected, forcing a smile.

Her parents, comforted by her words, left to retire for the night.

A few hours later, when Yujin heard her father’s deep snoring, she grabbed her small satchel and slipped quietly out her window. The cool night air dampened the grass beneath her feet as she made her way across the meadow toward the bridge.

Yoongi sat by the river, his eyes fixed on the plain. Occasionally, he would toss a rock across the river’s surface, patiently waiting. When his legs grew stiff, he stood and paced near the bridge, the crunch of gravel underfoot the only sound beside the soft current of the river.

Looking up, he saw the moon magnified in size, so close he swore he could touch it. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a figure moving toward the bridge. Without looking directly, he knew it was her. Somehow, he could just feel it. He turned and began walking to the bridge, oblivious to the bridge’s frail condition, his focus on her alone.

Yujin felt the night’s chill more than she expected, her thin dress brushing against her hardened nipples as she shivered. But as she noticed the moon, she gasped. It seemed fuller and closer than ever, as if she could reach out and pluck a piece to keep forever. In its glow, she saw a dark figure approaching. Was it coming toward her?

Fully understanding this figure could be a creature of the Moonlight Kingdom, Yujin felt compelled to stay. She welcomed the presence, stepping forward to meet him on the bridge. The old, brittle wood creaked underfoot.

“Stop! Await me,” his voice commanded, sending a shiver through her body. What was this feeling? She was sure she wasn’t afraid, but the flutter in her stomach and the quickening of her heart left her unsure.

The man carefully crossed the weathered bridge. As he neared, his almond-shaped eyes glimmered under the moon, much like her shimmering thread, and the gentleness in them took her breath.

“My lady, please be assured that I come in peace. It’s not my intent to cause harm. Indeed, it is an honor to meet you. I am Min Yoongi, of Moonlight,” he said, unable to look away. Her skin glowed a warm golden brown, the night’s coolness bringing a rosy hue to her cheeks. Her simple braids draped over her shoulders, the tips pointing to her heaving chest. Yoongi had to avert his eyes, catching himself from staring.

“Mr. Min, I sense you mean no harm, and I am also here in peace. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well. I’m Park Yujin, of Sunlit. You’re not like the tales I’ve heard. I have many questions for you.”

“I feel the same, Miss Park. Shall we sit and talk?” Yoongi pointed to a flattened spot where she’d danced the previous night, laying his jacket on the grass for her. “I must confess I saw you last night. I wished to call out, but I feared I might startle you. Moreover, I was taught to avoid those who dwell in the sunlight, lest they treat me with hostility.”

“Last night?” Yujin blushed, remembering her tumble.

“Your dance was enchanting, and it lingered in my dreams all night. No need to be embarrassed. I was worried about you. Is your foot alright?”

“Oh, I’m fine! I pricked my heel, but it was nothing. I should’ve known better than to dance barefoot.”

Relieved, Yoongi smiled. “I’m glad to hear that.” After a pause, Yujin continued.

“I thank you for your concern.” After a comfortable pause, Yujin continues. “Oh! Have you ever witnessed such a thing in your realm?” She pulls the shimmering thread from her sachet and presents it to Yoongi, then takes out the normal thread she’d purchased today to compare. “Isn’t it marvelous?”

“Yes. Golden silk thread. I work with it often. Is this not customary in your kingdom?”

“No. I discovered it here last night. You said that you work with it often? Are you a seamster or weaver of sorts?”

“Indeed, I am a weaver. I craft commissioned tapestries of all sizes. I have been practicing this art for the majority of my life, thanks to my grandmother. She instructed me when I was but a child.” He continued to feel the thread between his fingers and began to speak the words that came to heart. “There is something strange about this thread. It is no ordinary golden silk.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “It feels like… it is a fragment of antiquity, a thread in the tapestry of existence, binding souls as well as fibers.”

Yujin’s eyes widened. “You can feel it too? I thought it but a figment of my imagination. Last night, I felt something calling me, and I followed it. Last night, I felt a strange pull, a beckoning, and I followed it. I found this thread, as if it awaited my discovery, and then…” She stopped, the memory of her mysterious dream flooding her mind.

“Please, continue,” Yoongi urged, but Yujin deflected.

“Never mind. So, you acquired all of your knowledge from your grandmother. That’s remarkable. Do you still work with your her?”

“No, it’s just me now. My grandmother fell ill some years back,” Yoongi’s face shows concern for her but there’s something else there. He’d not seen his grandmother in ages, the last being when she was shipped away by carriage. Since, his parents have been secretive when it came to her whereabouts, only letting him know that she was fine. “I presume that you are a dancer? Your talent is undeniable,” he changes the subject but is extremely curious about Yujin.

“I thank you. Yes, I dance with one of the most renowned companies in Sunlit. It has been a dream of mine, since my youth, to dance professionally.”

“It is plain to see that your passion and skill have yielded great rewards.” 

“You are too kind.” 

“I am merely stating the truth.” 

The pair drank each other in, their eyes shifting to observe every inch of each other.

“Take me to your dwelling?” Yujin suddenly broke the silence and Yoongi was taken aback by her request before she continued. “I yearn to behold Moonlight and your tapestries. My curiosity gnaws at me, for I have always been drawn to the moon and your kingdom.”

“I would be honored to show you my world but the bridge is in disrepair, and I fear for your safety. Moreover, would you not be in peril should word reach those of Sunlit realm that you have ventured outside of its confines?” 

“Are you always so tense? Loosen yourself, Mr. Min,” Yujin said carelessly which only inflamed his desire further. 

“Loosen myself? Shall I?” Yoongi speaks with a playful chuckle before his tone turns more serious and he says, “Do you believe yourself capable of handling such a version of me?” His words crept inside of her, attaching themselves to the frayed edges of her soul. Her knickers dampened at such a simple phrase and the tingling in her belly intensified, giving her the courage to return his flirty banter.

“It would be wise to ponder whether you are capable of handling me, Sir,” she retorted, which made Yoongi raise an eyebrow. “There is but one way to discover the truth. Don’t you agree?” 

“Indeed,” he responds, pleasantly surprised by her quick wit. This woman is truly one of a kind, unlike anyone he has ever encountered. “Shall we?”

The pair strolled together under the moonlight, sharing tales of their worlds, their hearts racing at the growing connection between them. For now, the bridge remained fairly firm beneath them, and the delicate thread they passed between them, glowed softly, linking their worlds in ways neither could yet imagine.

Grandma Mirae

Yoongi’s grandmother had seen better days, but she knew that everything would be fine very soon. She had foreseen and prophesied the future for her kingdom and that of Sunlit. True to her namesake, Mirae—which means "future"—she had seen that her grandson would be the one to restore order. She’d also seen that if she kept in regular contact with Yoongi, he would not be as motivated to complete this task. Thus, she had been living away from home in a hidden temple along the coastline. Her powers had grown weaker by the day due to the rift between Moonlight and Sunlit. The old saying, "If you don’t use it, you lose it," had proven true for her.

Once, Mirae had been able to create intricate tapestries with specific details that led patrons to their destined soulmates. But as the tensions grew between the two realms, the bridge began to deteriorate—and so did her power. Without the ability to use her full power, it had slowly dwindled until she could use it no more.

She had always planned to teach Yoongi everything she knew, though she hadn’t anticipated it would be under these circumstances. While she could see the future, she knew it could still change due to free will. Recently, however, she had seen that Yoongi had met his soulmate, bound to him by the threads of fate, and that she was something truly special. Together, they would mend the divide: Yoongi with his skill, and his soulmate with her gift—as long as events stayed on their current course.

Yoongi and Yujin

"Welcome to my humble abode,” Yoongi said as they approached his home.

“You reside here?” Yujin's face displayed shock and confusion.

“Yes. Is something amiss?”

Yujin was uncertain how to tell Yoongi that she’d seen his house before, though she’d never set foot inside Moonlight. She was sure she had seen it, and she was almost certain she’d seen him in her dream the previous night.

“Yes, something is amiss. I must depart,” Yujin replied, turning to walk away, only to be caught by Yoongi. He grabbed her elbow, and she did not protest.

“Do not go. Tell me what troubles you.”

“I cannot. You will think me a madwoman.”

“Grant me a chance. Come, let us talk inside,” he urged gently, pulling her arm.

Once inside, Yujin began to speak immediately while perusing some of his work. “Do you believe in magic?” She paused to look over the fabrics, awaiting his answer.

“I do. Why do you ask?”

“You saw me by the river last night, but I did not see you. Is that not so?”

“Yes, that is so,” he replied sparingly, eager to hear what she had to say.

“I did not see you by the river, but I believe I saw you…in my dream last night,” she said, turning to study his eyes for any hint of disbelief. Instead, his eyes grew wide, and he urged her to continue. “I could not discern your features, but I saw this house. The person—who I believe might have been you—was seated outside, crafting a small piece. I could even describe part of it.”

“Miss Park, I was indeed seated outside, working on one of my smaller pieces last night.”

“Cease your jesting.”

“I jest not. This is most intriguing. Describe the piece, and I shall reveal my work to you.”

“The work was still unfinished, lacking its upper right quadrant, and I could only discern its central part.”

“Were you viewing it from the front or the back of the loom?”

“The back. The person was sitting behind it, working with the bobbins from the back.”

“Miss Park, please, tell me what lay at the heart of the tapestry.”

“In the middle of the tapestry, I saw a man’s hand strumming the strings of a gittern.” Yoongi stepped back, as if knocked off-kilter, then wavered slightly as he moved toward a bedroom door. He went inside and returned with a small tapestry. He turned it so that Yujin could observe it. There was indeed a gittern in the center of the piece; however, there was no hand. “I was mistaken. There is no hand to be found.”

“Indeed, you are correct. I had envisioned a hand playing the instrument, which would have perfected the piece. Alas, I have been unable to render human form in my work, despite numerous attempts.”

“Truly?”

“In truth,” Yoongi admitted.

“Take this.” She retrieved the Sunlit thread from her pouch and offered it to Yoongi. He placed the loom on a nearby table before walking over to accept the spool from her hand. “Try again. Take this as a gift from me—a token of my faith in your talent.”

“You have such faith in me. Why so? I’m not skilled enough to succeed.”

Yujin took the spool of thread back, placed it beside one of Yoongi’s finished pieces already on display, and asked, “May I see your hands?”

He held his hands outstretched, palms up. She gently turned them over, her fingertips barely brushing his skin. Examining the backs of his hands, Yujin noted their rough, sturdy appearance. His pale skin was traced with green veins peeking beneath the surface, and his slender fingers appeared refined. “It is true. All of this is real. Those were your hands I saw in my dream and in the tapestry. Try again, Mr. Min” she repeated eagerly. “The hand you seek to include in your work is your own. Surely, you can find a suitable model for reference,” she said, smiling, her warmth reaching into Yoongi’s heart as her fingers warmed his skin.

Yoongi was listening, taking in everything that she said, hanging onto her every word even. However the feeling of her slight touch was slowly consuming him, pulling at the very fibers of his composure.

“Miss Park, forgive me straying from the subject but, I beg that you release me. Your touch moves me so that I know not what will happen if you don’t,” Yoongi pleads, lacking the desire to take his hands away on his own.

Yujin felt the chill from his skin course through her and couldn’t tell if she shivered because of the cold or because of his words. She stood there, holding the very hands she had fantasized about that morning, wondering how they might feel tracing the lines of her frame. The thrill of being here with him, her desire, and his touch all urged her to surrender, her every thought filled with the anticipation of what might come next.

“And why not, Mr. Min? Should we not discover what comes to pass?”

Yujin’s teasing pushed him over the edge, his hands finding their way around her waist, pulling her closer to him. His lips crashed against hers, the feeling akin to having water after days of thirst. She needed him and he needed her just as badly. They wildly devoured each other, needing to feel the other’s hands everywhere, all at once.

“I need you. I yearn to be with you in the most intimate of ways,” Yoongi said against her lips, then trails down to kiss her neck.” Yujin dug her nails into the exposed skin of his arms, showing from under his rolled up sleeves. He bent down momentarily to reach his hand under her skirt at the hem to finally feel her skin on his hands. Slowly, he trailed his hands up her calves, then to her thighs. The moans that escaped her parted lips nearly convinced Yoongi that the sounds of the heavens could not compete. Creeping further up, Yoongi was able to gather her ass into his hands, digging his fingertips into the cheeks as he captured her lips again. His hardness pressed firmly against her front and she wanted nothing more than to receive him but she couldn’t.

“Mr. Min,” she moaned, “we’ve only just met and it’s getting late. We must cease this. I must go.”

He pulled away panting heavily and said, “I shall do as you say, Miss Park. I have no wish to be forceful,” he concedes. “I will escort you back to your realm to ensure your safety.”

When the two return to the bridge, they find that it is in worse shape than it was before and it would be miraculous if Yoongi is able to get her across safely.

“What has happened? How is it in worse condition than it was before?”

“I haven't the slightest notion,” Yoongi answers. “Come. I will make certain that you get back unharmed.” 

They began to move across the shaky structure. Yoongi took slow, meticulous steps, instructing Yujin to follow him exactly. Approximately three-quarters of the way, Yoongi stepped down, and his foot pierced the board, causing him to nearly fall completely through.

“Mr. Min!”

Still holding on to his hand, Yujin pulled with all of her might, trying to help him back up.

“Hold fast to the rail, and stir not an inch.”

“No! I won’t let you go,” she yelled over the sound of the current below.

“Miss Park, allow me a moment to rise without dragging you down with me. I would not wish for us both to tumble into the river.”

Yujin relents and holds onto the rail as instructed, allowing Yoongi to gather himself and regain his footing. He is able to successfully return Yujin to solid land.

“How will you make it back across safely?”

“Do not fret. I shall be fine,” Yoongi assures. “When might I have the pleasure of seeing you again? I will come to you this time.”

“YUJIN!” She was startled by the booming voice of her father as he approached them in the meadow. “Your mother frets and worries for you, yet here you are frolicking with a man from the Moonlight Kingdom, no less!” 

“Father!” Yujin called out to her dad, her hands up in surrender. “Father, please.”

Instead of listening, her father turns his attention to Yoongi and says, “You scoundrel! Keep away from my daughter, and if you are seen on this side of the bridge again, I shall take your life myself!”

“Sir, I assure you, I mean no harm to you or your daughter. I-,” Yoongi is interrupted by a strike to the face.

“FATHER!” Yujin rushed over to Yoongi and cupped his face into her hands. “Mr. Min-,” she begins but is snatched away by the arm.

“There are many fine gentlemen in Sunlit vetting worthy of your hand, yet you consort with such a lowborn fellow? You are an unwed woman fraternizing with a man who has not even the decency to court you properly! You are but a whore, Yujin, and shall be punished accordingly,” her father snarled with spittle springing from his lips.

“Mr. Min! Yoongi!” Yujin screams, crying for him while being dragged away by her father.

“Go home, Miss Park. Heed your father's words for now. We shall meet again, I promise.

Once home, Yujin was scolded and berated more by her father. When he’d had his fill and left the room, she tried to reason with her mother.

“Mother, I dreamt of that man before we met. He is my destined mate, I am sure. I knew it the moment I beheld him. Pray, reason with Father. Please!”

“Yujin, you ventured forth from the kingdom after your father and I had retired. Do you know how perilous that was? The Lord only knows what might have befallen you in Moonlight. Those ruffians could have done so much harm, and we would have remained ignorant, believing you to be safe and sound in your bed. I can no longer place my faith in you.”

“Mother!”

“Do not dare to open your mouth to address me! I am most disappointed in you. It has been difficult enough to secure a suitable match for you given your peculiar behavior, but if it should come to pass that you have been seen abroad at night with a man, we shall be forced to wed you to some odious widower who requires a caregiver for his offspring. Or worse, you will become an old maid for the rest of your days.”

Yujin was unable to speak after hearing her mother’s true feelings and tears filled her eyes. She laid atop her covers, crying into her comforter.

Her father appeared in the doorway. “At the week’s end, you will be sent to finishing school,” he said before walking away to go into his bedroom. Yujin didn’t have any more energy to protest and her mother ran behind her father, obviously blindsided by his sudden decision.

The end of the week came faster than Yujin wanted but there was nothing she could do to change her father’s mind. Her mother sat on her bed and helped her finish packing while occasionally wiping the tears that successfully escaped her eyes. Neither woman spoke a word, and moved about the room in silence.

When it was time for Yujin to depart, her parents walked her out and helped her get settled into the carriage behind the coachman.

“We love you, dearest. May your journey be safe,” her mother said.

Her father did not say a word but the expression on his face showed a glimmer of regret that was quickly replaced with his usual stoic demeanor.

“Goodbye, father. Goodbye, mother,” Yujin responded, respectfully but clearly laced with resentment. Then they were off as she listened to the clacking of the horse’s hooves on the road as they went.

After a day’s long ride, they finally pulled up to the school and Yujin was greeted by the administrators. They spoke quickly, flooding her with information, rules, and consequences. She settled in without an issue while greeting the other women who decided to peek in to meet the new girl. They were nice enough as they chatted amongst themselves, inviting her to join the conversation as she unpacked her belongings and organized her space, attempting to make the best of her current situation.

Approximately a month after arriving at the school, the women were given more freedom to explore the grounds after classes. Of course they all frequented the sea, wanting to enjoy the sounds of the water, but one day, Yujin ventured off and stumbled upon a temple nestled in the trees near campus. She was unsure if it was even operative but the ground seemed to be well taken care of and regularly tended to. Inside, she decided that she would take this opportunity to pray. To lay her burdens at the altar and start her life anew. 

She cried to God, asking that he remove the resentment she still carried for her parents. She admitted that she had not felt as much happiness as she had when she met Min Yoongi. At the end of her prayer, she asked that God cover her parents and Yoongi from dangers seen and unseen, before she stood to her feet, she placed the fingers of her right hand to her forehead, her chest, then each shoulder before saying, “Amen.” She wiped her tears on the inside of her uniform and was startled by a voice behind her.

“Yujin. Yujin, you were here?”

It was Yoongi, walking up the aisle coming toward her.

“Yoongi! Oh, Yoongi. I thought I would never see you again! What are you doing here?”

“My grandmother is here and I came to see her after she sent word back home, requesting my presence.”

At that moment, Yujin and Yoongi’s attention was stolen away from each other by the sound of a person approaching, sliding their slippered feet across the floor. An older lady, humped over, came their way, and addressed Yujin by name.

“It is so nice to finally meet you, Yujin. I’ve been waiting for you two to find your way here. Come. We have work to do.”

“Pardon?” Yujin was completely confused but chose to follow anyway.

The lady led them into a room off of the sanctuary where they found supplies, such as bobbins, looms, and tons of different colored threads.

“Did you bring the things I mentioned,” she asked Yoongi, to which he began to pull things from his jacket pockets. From one, he retrieved a folded piece of fabric. When he unfolded it, there was a hand strumming the strings of a gittern. And from the other, he pulled out the spool of thread that Yujin had gifted him.

“Yoongi. You did it?”

“Yes, I was able to finally do it, after being motivated by your encouragement and the sound of your cries. It felt like it was the only way to get back to you. I had to complete the task and push my talent to the limit.”

“You did a wonderful job, dear, but now the real challenge begins. Yujin, I need you to dance for us. Please, be the inspiration that Yoongi needs to complete this tapestry,” his grandmother requested and of course Yujin agreed.

When she began, her movements were slow and choppy, having not danced in over a month, but she continued, seemingly improving by the second. As she moved, so did Yoongi’s bobbins as he pushed and pulled them up and down and around the wefts and warps with ease. After what seemed like hours, Yujin was seated on the floor massaging her feet while Yoongi completed his piece with his grandmother watching over his shoulder from a distance. When he secured the last thread, the entire room seemed to glow with an immaculate light that shone for only a moment.

Yujin rushed over to look at the completed work and was in awe. “Yoongi. It is so beautiful. Is that… is that me?” She pointed to the ballerina in the upper right quadrant encased within the fabric with golden silk thread. Within the image, the dancer seemed to dance while the man played music for her. The scene made Yujin emotional as she looked at it. Not only did it encompass both herself and Yoongi, she took notice of the threads, realizing that his hand was crafted with the spool she’d acquired in Sunlit and her image was traced with the glowing thread of Moonlight.

“All is well and order has been restored,” a woman approached them from behind. She favored Yoongi’s grandmother but was noticeably younger.

When Yoongi turned around to the sound of her voice, he shot up from his seat screaming, “Grandma! Grandma! What happened? You look exactly like you did when I was young! What happened to you?”

“Do you remember the tales I shared with you about the ancient magical weaver and the curse of the two lands? I was telling you my life story and my prophecy. I am the magical weaver and I was under the curse of the land, but thanks to the dedication that you two put in, I have been set free.

Thanks to the work that they put in, the kingdom was restored, Yoongi and Yujin were the first foreseen soulmates in decades. They wed and lived happily ever after blending the customs of their respective lands with Yoongi creating partner centered tapestries for Moonlight and Sunlit and Yujin continuing to shine as the best dancer of both kingdoms.

[joonslfttiddie]

Home

Chapter 50: Ready to Play...

💜Fic Pairing: OT7 x OFC

💜AU/Genre: Reverse Harem/Polyfidelity/AMBW/Ghosts

💜Warnings: Adult Language/Adult Content/Murder/Blood/Attack by stalker/Strangulation/Magik/Spells/Rituals/Bondage

💜Rating: MA

💜Word Count: 7,445

To say that these past couple of days have been eventful would be an understatement and the crew is more than pleased that it’s finally over. Even with the tensions still high in the house, Tia takes comfort in knowing that she hasn’t had to be in this house alone and knowing that her men will do anything to keep her safe.

“Well, today has been…interesting,” Jin says to Tia after the other men leave them in the library to speak privately. Some of the guys head upstairs, unwinding for the evening, minus Taehyung and Jungkook who leave briefly but return before Hoseok and Namjoon who have gone to the hospital to see John.

“That it has,” she rasps, hating that this conversation feels more like a goodbye is on its way. “I can’t thank you enough for all that you’ve done for me. I can only imagine what you’ve been through after coming here.”

“Me? I only did what I could do to help. It has been worth it, though, because I was able to meet you guys.” He returns Tia’s bashful smile and after a short pause, Jin continues, “How are you feeling now that things have settled down? Now that Tilly and the guys are gone?”

“It’s crazy because, of course, I’m glad that all the drama is finally over, but I feel like a part of me is missing. Like, I don’t know what to do next. I don’t know what to do with myself without her. I’m so confused,” she says, pausing to collect herself. “I don’t even know which experiences, which choices of my life were mine and which parts were hers. ”

“Wow. I can’t imagine how confusing things must feel for you right now. Like, it’s bittersweet. Tilly was a part of you and had been with you for your entire life, but I’m sure you are ecstatic that things are over with those brothers, seeing as it sounds like you all have been through hell thanks to them,” he empathizes after hearing the details of what they endured thanks to the Burtons. He can remember how upset and angry he felt as Tia and the guys filled him in. The anger that bubbled to the surface was akin to hearing of someone hurting your family. Something much more than one may typically feel for individuals they just met.

Family. That’s it!

The connection that he feels to these people is like family…people you would do absolutely anything for and in order to protect. “Look, I know you don’t know me like that but I believe that you will be able to figure things out for yourself. You’re not giving yourself enough credit, Tia. You are still just as smart, beautiful, and gifted alone as you were with Tilly.”

“You are so sweet. Thank you for saying that.” She didn’t realize how much she needed to hear it until he spoke it aloud. “That really means a lot, especially coming from an overachiever like yourself,” Tia says and looks up mischievously at Jin.

“Huh?”

“I mean, you saved my life two times within two days… A bit excessive, don’t you think?” She has always coped with humor, whether to deal with her trauma, in uncomfortable situations, or when given compliments.

The laugh he let out seems to come from his soul, and seems to warm Tia’s. His deep rumble of laughter is like music to her ears and she needs to hear this as often as possible. This side of him makes her take notice of how handsome he really is. Yeah, she thought he was handsome from the moment they locked eyes. If she's being honest, even his voice, the life raft she clung to yesterday, is attractive. But it's something about watching the joy wash over his face that catches her off guard. There is no other man, excluding her loves, on the face of this earth more handsome than Jin. Mr. Worldwide Handsome.

He finally catches his breath and says, “ You have jokes, huh? Well, I must admit that this is a first for me. You going to these lengths to make an impression on me is odd, but I’m here for it.”

“All I heard was that I’ve made an impression on you. Hopefully a good one.”

“A great one,” he replies, which causes Tia to flash a half-suppressed smile with Jin matching her banter.

“Again. I really hope that I’m not overstepping when I say this-” he starts.

“Jin, I promise that I will not take offense to anything you have to say, but please…Stop saying things like that. You are not ‘overstepping’ at all and I do know you! I’ve, evidently, known you my entire life. Yesterday, I could feel you even before I saw you, and meeting your past self today just confirmed that feeling. You belong here with us; with me.”

After taking a moment to allow the tightness in his throat to subside, Jin speaks with tears brimming at his waterline. “Wow. I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear that from you,” he says, mirroring Tia’s unspoken thoughts. “Honestly, this is the first time I’ve felt like I truly belonged anywhere. When I laid eyes on your face for the first time yesterday, even considering the circumstances, I wanted to be there for you, to comfort you, to make sure you were okay. It doesn’t make sense the way that I was ready to do any and everything to ensure your safety. The way that I was drawn to you, to all of you, I had a feeling that this connection would be something special. When I had to leave to go to the police station, I felt like someone was ripping my heart from my chest. I wanted nothing more than to stay here with you. To take care of you. And if that wasn’t enough, seeing the spirit of the man I was in my past life definitely confirmed it all for me, too.”

A comfortable silence surrounds them as they sit simply enjoying each other’s presence before Tia asks, “Oh, you were saying something before?”

“I was just going to say, about the guys earlier…”

“Yeah?”

“Tia,” he pauses briefly. “Those men love you with everything that they are. Hell, the way that I feel about you... I’d do anything to make sure you are okay and this is just day one for us. You can’t be mad at those men for loving you the way that they do. They are just as upset as you are, only thinking of putting themselves between you and danger. Shit, after hearing about Tilly’s life with her guys, we’ve felt this way for a couple of lifetimes now. Just like you want to protect them, we want to protect you.”

“I know, but…”

“No but, Tia. Please, just try to be more understanding instead of defensive. Can you do that? For me?”

“Yes. I will,” Tia agrees, very receptive to Jin’s gentle dominance.

The pair continues to talk with him telling her more about himself, his upbringing, and his profession. He even tells her about his day leading up to him meeting them.

“Holy shit! So you came here to deliver food from your restaurant and got caught up in all of this?”

“Well, I don’t see it like that. I’m thankful, actually. Looking back over my day, while I had no intentions to partake in an adventure, life had other plans. I had no intentions to go into the restaurant yesterday morning but one of my guys just happened to call in sick, so I was helping out, just being a team player-”

“Being a good boss and leading by example,” Tia adds.

“Trying to, yeah. And,” Jin pauses for a moment and shifts his body to face Tia, “honestly, this may sound crazy, but the entire day was strange. You know those days that just feel scripted? Like, of course you have free will to make your own decisions but you can also choose to follow the script. I felt compelled to go to the restaurant to help, compelled to carry my weapon, compelled to deliver your order…it’s like I was fated to come here. To meet you. Thankfully, the stars aligned in a very specific way, with their only goal for the day being to lead me to you and to the guys,” he says with a serious tone. “I just wish the circumstances were better for your sake.”

“I’m okay, I promise. My voice will be back to normal and my bruises will be all healed before we know it. I do think that it will take some time for us all to heal mentally, though. I can give you the contact information for my therapist, if you want, or maybe she could do a group session for all of us. I do realize that it’s not just about me and I’m not the only one that has had a tough couple of days. I was thinking about you last night but couldn’t reach out. I didn’t have your contact information. But, how are you? I’m sure you didn’t plan on being traumatized by being put in a situation where you’d have to do what you had to do, either.”

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s definitely been rough. I’ve not been able to get the image out of my mind. Honestly, I’ve never even had to use my firearm to harm another person, only shooting at the range and at targets. Shit, let’s just call it what it is. I killed someone, Tia. I’m a murderer and taking that man’s life and the visions of the aftermath will haunt me for the rest of my life, that’s for sure.” he pauses in an attempt to hold back his tears, however the pain he is feeling is evident to Tia. “But, I only did what I had to do, right? This doesn’t make me a bad person. I didn’t have a choice. Right?”

“Oh, Jin,” Tia says as she watches the tears finally fall from his eyes and she reaches out to rub them away with her thumb before pulling him into the warmest embrace, caressing his back. She lets him cry, his shoulders heaving as he silently sobs into her shirt. Unable to hold back her own tears, she tries to take some of his pain, hoping to ease the burden on his heart.

“I’m thankful the stars decided to send you here, too. Not only because the day could have ended very differently had you not come, but because, I got to meet you, to talk to you, to hear your voice, to touch you,” Tia says as her heart pounds in her chest. She wonders if he can feel it as she’s so close to him right now.

Eventually, he pulls back and looks at Tia, watching as she nervously shifts her eyes between his, taking in his features, and he does the same. Her eyes trace the line of his full, plush lips wanting nothing more in this moment than to feel them against her own. The sweet smell of vanilla that he’s come to find comfort in seems to intensify, the aroma damn near inebriating and irresistible, causes his mouth to water.

Something about her last statement causes Jin to chase the satiation he’s been craving all fucking day. He cups the back of her neck, pulling her closer. Their lips collide passionately conveying the desire that's been simmering all day.

This kiss is deep and enchanting, causing her to leak with desire. Tiny whimpers and moans collect between the both of them, the anticipation and their need for each other is obvious. He reaches over to pull Tia toward him, and without pulling away from the kiss, she goes willingly, finding herself straddling his lap and wrapped up in his arms. The heat from her core warms his now hardened dick and it jumps underneath her, begging for release, to feel her warmth smear across his skin. 

Tia nearly shatters and her tummy begins to tingle when he takes her bottom lip into his mouth, giving it a few firm sucks, then licks it, creating a contrast of sensations. When his tongue slithers into her mouth, he uses it to explore, much like he would if her were eating her out. And for that, he can not wait! His heart is racing at the thought of the other guys walking in on them, but it's almost like he can't control himself. He has to have her. His big hands finds their way to the rounds of her ass, and he massages them firmly, enjoying how thick and soft she feels. Tia moans even more, she nibbles at his lower lip, and begins to rock her hips slightly. They are so drunk off of each other, it would take something extraordinary to pry them apart. Just as Jin slides his hands up to her hips and starts to tug at the waistband of her underwear, she stops him.

'Don’t forget your bath. You need to cleanse that negative energy completely.'

Tia pulls away from the kiss, slightly startled, breathing heavily after hearing the sweet, southern voice in her head. She is so happy to still be connected to Tilly and is now using her discernment to listen to the call. Unfortunately, this also means that her heated exchange with Mr. Worldwide Handsome has to come to a halt.

“Fuck. I am so sorry, Jin," she whispers with her forehead against his. "I would love to continue this in a bit, but I have to fully cleanse myself of all the negative energy. I want to start anew, with a clean slate, with you, and this is the way that I can protect us all,” Tia informs him, hoping to not upset him.

“You don’t have to apologize or explain yourself to me. Do what you gotta do,” he says calmly, then pauses. “I’d better get out of here anyway. Things are going so fast and it’s already getting late. I don’t want to intrude.”

His response is like a breath of fresh air, with her only experiencing this caliber of man since initially meeting Jungkook. These men have opened her eyes to what true love and real men look like. They have also introduced her to the ability to speak her mind and her opinions without fear of pushing them away or them getting angry, taking her words as rejection. With their unconventional relationship, she seems to be blossoming and growing with the men as her fertilizer.

Jin had been at their house since late morning and now the sun has gone down completely. The hours seemed to fly by, maybe because they’ve been so busy the majority of the day fighting demons. Tia doesn’t realize when her bottom lip pokes out into a pout. She doesn't want him to leave tonight. She doesn't want him to leave, period.

“You don’t have to go. I mean, I don’t want you to go but if you have to, I’ll understand,” she says, now looking down at him from her perch on his lap. His already plump lips are now adorned by a beautiful shade of pink and they are slightly swollen.

“Are you sure?” Looking into her eyes, he searches for any indication of her granting permission for him to stay. She only has to say the word, because just as much as she wants him to stay, he wants to stay, too. Tia nods as her face brightens up with joy. “I don’t have anything going on and would love to stay here with you all if it's okay with everyone."

"Yeeeeeeeeeeees!" She hugs him tightly and her desire for him to be here warms his heart. It heats even more when she lets him know that the others will love to have him as well.

"Okay then, I'm all yours. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Tia leads Jin into the kitchen to collect the things she prepared earlier. He carries the blended herbs, following her upstairs as she rambles on about what each herb is good for and the cleansing process. He holds the glass container up to his face, trying to make out the small fragments of each ingredient.

“That’s amazing and it smells so good,” he says after sniffing at the lid. “So, essentially, this bath in combination with the smudging and the floor wash you did earlier will fully rid your environment of the negativity you’ve come in contact with these past couple of months.”

“Bingo. All of this will also continue to protect us from any ill-will from the Burton family and anybody else for that matter, combating whatever hex or tie they have to us. I grew up watching my mother do a refresh monthly, but I must admit, I’ve been slacking. I can’t help but wonder if my negligence has made us more susceptible to attacks.”

Upstairs, they find some of the guys already showered, sprawled across the massive bed giggling at something that Tia and Jin missed out on.

“What’s funny? We wanna laugh, too,” she jokes.

“Jagi! Bath time?”

“Yeah. I want to go ahead and get this done before I get too tired and lazy,” Tia answers Taehyung, who hops up from snuggling with Jimin to help get her bath ready.

“I’ll be right back. You forgot to grab something to drink. You’ll need to stay hydrated,” Jimin says.

“Huh?” Tia is obviously confused by Jimin’s statement but he’s already shuffling down the stairs before she gets her answer.

“I’ll grab your clothes,” Yoongi says. His tone is strange; sarcastic even, but Tia doesn’t give it much thought.

Jin is fascinated watching everyone’s initiative, completing a task so that Tia has one less thing to do. It seems like second nature for them. He hands the jar over to Taehyung and watches as he and Tia disappear into the bathroom. Admittedly, he feels a bit out of place, now, being the only one left in the room not assisting in some way.

“Jin! Will you come keep me company?” Tia yells to him from the bathroom just before Taehyung starts the water.

Jin walks into the massive ensuite to see Tia sitting on her vanity chair waiting and can partially see Taehyung through the fogged glass. Jin’s mind is blown as he takes in the beauty of the modern transparent, enclosed wet room that not only houses a soaking tub but also a double shower. He can tell that a lot of thought was put into this design and it seems it would be convenient and comfortable for all of them to share.

Tia and Taehyung yell over the sound of the water explaining what they are doing to a completely naked Jungkook. With frothy white lather covering his skin, he listens intently with his head sticking out from the glass door. He stares at Tia, wide eyed, with his mouth agape, taking in all that she’s saying. Beads of water sneak down the length of his hair that falls over his forehead, with some droplets catching a ride to combine and travel down his face. Once the cleansing process is described in detail completely, he flashes a smile to Jin then disappears back into the foggy expanse of the shower.

Jin stands with his back against the sink, unable to tear his eyes away from them. Just then, Jungkook turns off the shower and steps out onto the shower mat, fully comfortable with his manhood on display. Even though he’s not erect, there is a heaviness to it and his print is still visible even after he wraps his towel around his hips. When he speaks, he snaps Jin from his thoughts.

“You can go inside or have a seat on the vanity chair. Whichever is more comfortable for you,” he says, relieving some of Jin’s tension.

Another POV

“Y’all feel that?” Jungkook asks the guys as he’s coming into the main bedroom with his pajamas, preparing for his shower.

“Hell yeah! Tia is giving Little Caesars,” Taehyung answers, cuddling up with Jimin in bed. Jimin covers his face with his shirt, trying not to laugh as Jungkook just shakes his head with a smirk on his face. “I’m so ready for tonight.”

Looking thoroughly confused and slightly annoyed that it seems everyone is in on the joke but him, Yoongi asks, “Tae, what the fuck are you talking about? What does this feeling have to do with pizza? Tia is obviously aroused by Jin downstairs.”

“Bro, why are you like this?” Jungkook questions Taehyung, unable to contain his laughter, then steps into the bathroom.

“What? She is! Yoongi, can’t you feel that Tia is ‘hot and ready’? I can’t wait to have a taste,” he retorts with a deadpan expression, deadass serious, and only smiling because of the others’ laughter. Yoongi covers his smile when he sees Tia and Jin at the doorway.

“What’s so funny? We wanna laugh, too,” Tia announces when she walks into the bedroom with Jin following behind her. Her sudden appearance only causes the guys to laugh that much harder.

“Jagi! Bath time?”

Taehyung helps Tia prepare for her bath while Jungkook finishes his shower, then both men leave her to converse with Jin. Before standing up, Tia takes a couple of incense and a lighter from the vanity drawer, lights them, then places them onto the holder. When she gets up from her chair and begins to undress, Jin can’t help the rush of heat that crawls up his neck to spread across his face and ears. He’s seen the female frame numerous times before, but she is ethereal. In awe, he watches as the cotton material slides down the length of her plump, smooth skin exposing the roundness of her breasts and the fullness of her hips.

Jin bites his bottom lip, watching as her now damp panties begin to roll up onto themselves, resisting when being pulled down her thick thighs. His dick twitches at the sight of her; and the smell. Not only is she sexy, but it’s the way she steps out of the pile of clothes that circle her feet with such comfort and confidence that turns him on the most. She carries herself like she’s experienced this moment with him a million times before.

Tia walks through the shower to the back wall where the freestanding tub sits and steps into the steamy water. Jin watches as the flowers and fruit bits float atop of the water, drifting apart to make way for her to step in. He follows behind her to take a seat on the only dry wooden bench, closest to the tub. Once seated, her breasts float slightly amongst the ingredients. She takes a little water into her hand and reaches up to allow some to drip into her hair, onto the crown of her head.

Jin watches as Tia then cleanses her body, watching the delicate bubbles being left behind with each swipe. She glances at him, flashing the most heart-wrenching smile, looking like a goddess on a mission to steal his heart. He notices that when she rinses the suds, she starts from her neck, only going in downward motions. The sheen that the water creates on her skin makes her look even more tantalizing and the bits of petals that stick to her only adds to her goddess-like appearance. Tia stands after unstopping the tub’s drain, and does the same downward movements to the lower half of her body, allowing the water and ingredients to flow down the drain.

“With the combined power of each herb and fruit in this cleansing bath.

My intentions are to cleanse my mind and body of the negativity that has crossed my path.

With downward strokes I send it away from me,

to swirl down the drain and set me free.

As I step out of this bath, I am reborn, filled with love, light, and positive energy; my mind, body, and spirit restored.”

Jin remains silent this whole time, just keeping Tia company as she requested while trying to respect the process of her cleansing bath, but his curiosity is eating at him.

“Why did you rinse the lather off like that? And when you put the water on your head…It seemed very ritualistic and meticulous,” he mentions while helping Tia out of the bath, wrapping her in the large towel that was left on a hook for her.

“Thank you. Well, as I cleansed my skin of the day's dirt, sweat, or whatever else and cleansed myself of that negative energy, I released it all down the drain. Not swiping it up and around, but just down and away from me. Also, I didn’t want to get my hair soaking wet, that’s why I dripped the water onto my crown. Whenever I leave the house, over the next few days, I’ll cover my hair with a white headwrap, just to protect it as it’s one of the most powerful sources of energy. I’m feeling a little vulnerable after all of this, so I want to be safe.”

“Oh, wow. You are very knowledgeable when it comes to all of this. It’s quite fascinating. How long will you need to protect your crown?”

“Ummm, maybe a week. Well, it’s important to protect your energy in general, but when it comes to physically protecting it, it really just depends on how I’m feeling or whatever downloads I receive. I’m still learning so I honestly don’t have all of the answers to the practice.”

“I could talk to you about this all day. My eyes have definitely been opened today,” he says, rubbing the thick towel up and down her arms and back.

“So, you’re woke, huh?”

“Woke? Like, awake?”

Tia laughs at Jin’s response, and he smiles at her amusement. When they come out of the bathroom, the guys seem to be up to something and are all laughing again.

“What are y’all doing out here?” Tia looks around, studying their expressions after they disperse, and all signs are pointing to Taehyung. “Tae?”

“Damn, you’re good. You found the culprit immediately,” Yoongi says with a smirk.

“Snitch,” Taehyung jokes and erupts into laughter when Tia approaches his side of the bed to attack him with tickles.

“What did you say, huh? You’re a comedian now, I see. You’ve been kiki’ing ever since I came back up here,” Tia talks shit while tickling him breathless. “What did he say, Jimin? You’re laughing too?!”

“No!” Jimin yells when the attack is suddenly directed toward him. “Yoongi! Help,” he pleads when he’s able to catch his breath.

Jin watches this play out from the threshold of the bathroom, thoroughly entertained and in awe of how well all the guys get along with not an ounce of jealousy in sight. For him, however, it’s not from the other men, but that feeling does reside deep in the pit of his stomach.

I want this. I want this with them, too. How do I bring this up? Is this by invite only?

“Whatever,” Tia jokes, concluding the tickle session. “This ain’t over.”

“Is that a threat?” Taehyung takes the opportunity to grab Tia’s wrist, pulling her to cuddle between him and Jimin. “What you gonna do? Huh?” Not allowing her to answer, he kisses her softly before deepening the kiss. Jimin jumps right in, holding her to him with his hand pressed against her abdomen between her and Taehyung, and starts to kiss behind her ear. When Tia’s nails begin to gently dig into Taehyung’s chest and tiny moans begin to escape, he continues to tease her. “What are you going to do, Jagi? Tell me,” he asks, speaking against her lips.

“Tae,” Tia whispers, completely under his command.

“Yes, Jagiya? I’m listening,” his deep voice booming through his chest seems to send shivers down Tia’s spine. The moan she releases has each man hard as a rock and ready to please her by any means.

“Fuck,” Jin says to himself, enchanted by the passion and lust that’s quickly filling the room. He places his hands over his crotch in an attempt to hide the effects of what he’s witnessing. “How is it that you guys aren’t jealous of each other? This all seems too good to be true, but I love this,” he says to Jungkook and Yoongi who are the closest to him.

“Bro, we’ve all been where you are right now,” Jungkook informs him. “Wondering how this all works, if we’re weird for wanting to take part in it, and if we would even be invited to join. It feels strange at first to not have those jealous feelings but I’ve realized that we all just want Tia to be happy. I’m finding that as long as there is consideration and respect between us, there’s nothing to feel jealous about.”

“For real?” Jin is amazed to hear Jungkook verbalize all of the thoughts that are swirling through his mind.

“Seriously,” Yoongi says, then explains a synopsis of their experiences, how they all feel a sense of happiness when they see Tia happy, and the concept of compersion. “It’s basically the opposite of jealousy. But, let’s wait for Tia to speak about the details of our relationship. Just know that we feel that pull to you, as well. You’re one of us. Shit, you saw yourself among our past selves earlier. What more proof do you need, right?”

Yoongi has no idea that what he’s just said has healed a place within Jin that he doesn’t speak about, filling a void he’s experienced his whole life. That place that lacked the feelings of belonging and love explodes with a feeling Jin can only assume is akin to euphoria.

He finally gathers the courage to step closer to the side of the bed where Tia’s body is intertwined with Taehyung and Jimin. His heart is racing from the excitement of this new experience, eager to finally be immersed in the warmth of true love and acceptance.

Namjoon’s POV

Sitting in the hospital’s emergency room waiting area, surrounded by coughs, quiet chatter, and the cries of sick children is causing me to want to be back at home even more than usual. Sirens scream from the ambulances pulling into the parking lot and the throbbing pain in my shoulder is uncomfortable, but tolerable. The overstimulation of all of these sensations has me on the edge of my seat, pondering if medical attention is really necessary.

“Maybe we should just come back tomorrow. It’s getting late and the pain is not even that bad, for real,” I explain to Hoseok. “Let’s just go home.”

“Are you sure? You were pushed pretty hard, Namjoon.”

“Yeah, I know, but It’s feeling better already. I’m sure it’ll be fine after icing it for a few days.”

“Oh, no you don’t,” a voice announces as we’re standing to leave. “Tia texted to tell me you were coming and to make sure you were taken care of, so stop right there.”

“John! How are you?” He and Hoseok exchange greetings before John approaches me. I pull him into a bro hug, but when I lift my hand to pat his back, the sharp pain jars me, traveling down the length of my arm, and causes me to hiss and groan in pain.

“Feeling better already, huh?”

“Fuck you, Hoseok,” I say through clenched teeth but full of playful banter, then we follow John to the back.

I am beyond grateful that he has taken the time to come to check me out. After getting a few x-rays, a nurse escorts us to the patient room to wait for his prognosis.

“I can’t believe you were trying to go home. You are, obviously, in serious pain,” Hoseok says. “You miss Tia that much, huh?”

“You know me well. I miss her and the others always but I notice it’s worse when I’m uncomfortable. My thoughts are like stormy waters, waves crashing in my head, but when I’m at home, they are calm and still. That, and I hate hospitals.”

“That makes perfect sense. I get it. Even with all the madness that was going on around us, I am still more content there than anywhere else. Even more so than at my parents’ place which is where I should feel the most safe, you know?”

We continue to chat and bond over our common love until John knocks on the door then enters.

“Well, your x-rays look good and judging by the bruising around the area, it could have been much worse. What happened?”

I give him a summary of the events of the past couple of days, minus the attack, death, demons, and ghosts. Hoseok and I made sure to respect Tia’s right to tell him and Grey herself.

“Wow! I’m glad you weren’t further injured by the shards of glass and wood from the window. You definitely got lucky,” he says, “and I’m sure Taehyung will have that window repaired in no time. Alright, so, we’ll have to pop that joint back into place. I’ll send you home with some pain and anti-inflammatory meds to keep you comfortable. It’s downhill after this. Are you ready?”

Hoseok’s POV

I don’t think we were gone for even a couple of hours, thanks to receiving the VIP treatment in the ER. Namjoon begins to stir in the passenger seat as I pull into the driveway after taking the opportunity to rest thanks to the mild sedative he received at the hospital. John also sent him home with a real sling and an ice pack, along with the medicine.

“I hope you were able to get some good rest. How are you feeling?”

“Yeah, I did. I’m feeling much better now.” He reaches over to hold my hand. “Thank you so much for taking me,” he says.

“Of course. You know I got you,” I say, rubbing my thumb across his skin.

Once we open the front door, we are welcomed by the smell of home. Of Tia. Aware of what is likely going on upstairs, we decide to not announce ourselves, not wanting to interrupt anything, and climb the stairs to our bedroom. I’m assuming that the guys have set our plan into motion. At the bedroom door, we see Tia sandwiched between Taehyung and Jimin, with Jin leaning over the bed. He’s kissing her lips delicately with Tae licking and fondling her breasts. Jimin licks and kisses that sensitive spot at her nape that we’re all aware of before he peppers her back with wet kisses, slowly traveling down her spine. Jungkook is sitting on the chair, manspreading with his towel wide open, only serving as a barrier between his skin and the chair’s upholstery. His lips are parted as he’s breathing heavily, his hand rising and falling slowly caressing the smooth skin of his penis. Yoongi is enjoying the show, leaning against the wall, mouth ajar with his tongue playing at the corner of his mouth. His hand is stroking his bulge through his thin pajama pants.

“Fuck,” Namjoon and I voice in unison, completely entranced by the scene before us. Jungkook and Yoongi notice us at the door and smile welcomingly. I was hoping to be able to shower before we begin tonight’s activities, and Namjoon mentions it as if he can read my mind.

“Hey, I’m going to take a quick shower. Are you coming?”

“Yeah, I need to freshen up and I want to help you, too. Go ahead and start the water. I’ll grab clothes for us to wear later.”

After I grab our things, I make my way toward the bedroom. I must admit, when passing Yoongi as he’s standing next to the door, I briefly picture myself kneeling in front of him to free his throbbing dick from its cotton confines. My mouth waters at the visual and I can imagine his smooth skin brushing against my lips, sliding across my tongue, and traveling down my throat. I’ve never had any desire to be with a man sexually before meeting these guys, now I’m not opposed to it. Hell, I’m looking forward to it.

When we lock eyes, I wonder if my desire for him is shining through mine, able to be seen as I can see in his eyes. As I’m passing through the bathroom door, I can’t resist the urge and reach out to stroke his forearm with a feather light touch, taking notice of the veins bulging through his skin under my fingertips. As he continues to stroke himself, he takes his bottom lip between his teeth, closes his eyes, and leans his head against the wall as I disappear through the door.

Inside, I find Namjoon removing the sling before attempting to take off his shirt.

“Here. Let me,” I offer and he accepts immediately. I hold the shirt, allowing him to pull his left arm out then snake it over his head and down his hurt arm. I feel the need to ask permission before removing his pants and underwear. “May I?”

“Yes.”

I lean over to pull his bottoms down, and I’m taken aback when my fingers graze his skin. My heartbeat quickens and I notice that his breathing deepens. The look in his eyes and the way his dick springs up to his stomach lets me know that he’s just as shocked at this feeling as I am. Shocked at the need to be closer to him.

Yoongi’s POV

The sexual tension in the house is thick and I find myself enjoying the feeling of suffocating under its weight. Between the sounds that Tia is making, the scene before me, and the feeling of Hoseok’s fingers scorching my skin is driving me insane. I’m in need of relief. I continue to tease myself, unable to tear my eyes away from the three pieces of my heart in human form, mixed and tangled onto each other on the bed, I’m unsure what limbs belong to whom. Jin is now laying behind Taehyung’ who has disappeared under the covers still fondling Tia’s breasts. Jimin is also under the covers behind Tia, doing God knows what, but whatever it is, it’s apparent that she’s enjoying it.

Jin devours her lips, swallowing her moans and whimpers. I’m so incredibly turned on, my knees are beginning to get weak. Jungkook catches my attention, pointing into the bathroom. I look through the door and see Hoseok and Namjoon’s silhouettes in the fogged shower, with Hoseok holding Namjoon close to him, kissing him passionately. Fuck, I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I’m so turned on and yet there is a sense of relief. Seeing those two like that in the shower makes me feel safe to explore the thoughts I’ve been having. The scene soothes the ache, the longing I’ve been pushing down for so long.

Jungkook’s POV

It’s becoming tougher to fight the urge for relief as the minutes pass. Yoongi seems to be struggling just as bad as, if not more than, I am. Namjoon and Hoseok finally emerge from the bathroom, both sporting similar attire to myself, white plush towels wrapped around their waists.

“Are we ready?” I ask, to which the men nod in agreement. “Yoongi, where did you put her ‘clothes’?”

He reaches under the duvet on the side of the bed closest to us to reveal her outfit for the night.

“Hey, guys. Sorry to interrupt, but it’s time for Tia to get dressed,” Yoongi announces which causes Taehyung and Jimin to excitedly appear.

“Noooooooo,” Tia whines breathlessly.

“Don’t worry baby. We have all night,” Hoseok reassures her. “Come here.”

Jin gets up and helps her climb over Taehyung and off the bed, leaving her towel somewhere discarded in the linens, then brings her over to us. Taehyung and Jimin take this opportunity to strip the bed of the duvet, leaving the waterproof blanket spread across the bed.

“What are you guys up to? What do you mean it’s time for me to get dressed?”

He stands her with her back to us and Yoongi begins. He places kisses on her skin before he pulls the leather collar around her neck and adjusts the strap down the center of her back.

“Ah, that’s cold,” Tia cries when the metal ring swings, making contact with her skin.

“Sorry baby,” Yoongi says and continues.

After placing kisses to her wrists, he straps leather bands around them then connects them to the ring at the base of her back, binding her hands behind her.

He causes her body to twitch when he kisses her back, then secures a leather belt just under her breasts. Tia moans quietly when Yoongi continues kissing down her spine, then the rounds of either side of her plump ass. He places the thigh belts on then instructs, “Come lay on the bed.” She turns to face him then he assists her to sit, first, before Tia lays back with her arms under her body. Her facial expression seems to be a mix of anticipation, uncertainty, and excitement. “Legs up.”

She does as Yoongi says and he connects the thigh belts to the leather harness fastened around her bust, exposing her pussy to us.

“Fuck, Tae was right. You are hot and ready for us, huh?” I ask knowing that she is oblivious to what I’m referring to. We just chuckle as Taehyung leans over to get a closer look, nearly putting his face in it. The kisses from Yoongi and the makeout session with Jin, Taehyung, and Jimin has her core glistening with need.

“Yoongi has you looking so pretty in your little outfit,” Jimin teases.

“The key word is little,” Tia laughs. “Where did you guys find this?”

“You’re worried about the wrong thing, sweetheart” I tell her. “You just lay there and shut that pretty little mouth until we decide to put something in it.” I can see the fire in her eyes, ready to be dominated and used by us.

“All done. Tae, can you put her in the middle of the bed, please?” Yoongi asks for assistance as he’s lifting her up from the bed. “Ass up. Face down.”

“On it,” Taehyung answers, then stands on the bed to retrieve her from Yoongi and pulls her across the duvet. He kisses her lips then places her down softly, face first on the bed. He gives her ass a firm smack, causing her to moan, before getting down to join us.

“Okay,” Jimin begins. “We need a safe word. Tia can’t really tap out with her hands behind her back like that. You know, just to be on the safe side.”

“It needs to be something random,” Yoongi adds.

“Yeah. What about purple? Bora,” Taehyung suggests.

“Apobangpo,” I throw out.

“Rock Bison,” Jimin contributes.

“Bread Genie,” Jin says.

“Y’all, stop fucking around. Look at our poor baby, ass in the air and helpless, while we’re over here joking around,” Hoseok says. “Let’s just go with Army. Is that cool with everyone? Tia?”

We all agree and Tia nods, keeping her mouth shut just as she was told.

“Good girl,” I praise her and we all climb on the bed. I choose to lay next to her, rubbing the plumpness of her ass. I trace her curves with my fingertips, then find my way to her center. "Damn, Noona, you are so fucking wet." When I effortlessly slide one finger inside, then two, I push in deeper and slowly graze my fingers across the ceiling of her pussy. But just a couple of times. We can’t have her cumming this fast as we have a long night ahead of us. Her body tenses and begins to tremble slightly and the only sound that leaves her is a long, drawn out moan that escapes out of her nostrils. I pull my fingers out, now glistening with her love, and bring them to my mouth. I lick her essence from my digits before asking her, “Are you going to continue to be a good girl for us, Noona? Going to use your safe word if you need to?” She is breathing heavily and agrees with another nod. Kissing that sweet spot along her side, I watch her body quiver. “Are you ready to play?”

A/N:

Whew, Chile… what do you think about Jin's mental turmoil? I can't imagine being put in a situation like that, but I would tear the world up for the people I love, so 🤷🏽‍♀️ What about the guy's mixed emotions toward Tia?

As you can see, the next addition will likely be nothing but pure filth and if you've gotten this far, you shouldn't be surprised. And I have to give a shout out to one of the betas that has been a huge support and rider through this whole thing. @downbad4yoongi, thank you so very much for your help on this! 💜

Ok. Love you. BYYYYYYYYE! 😘😘😘

[joonslfttiddie]

❄️Snowed In❄️

❄️ pairing: non-idol! neighbor jungkook x ofc

❄️ genre/au: angst, smut, annoying neighbor au 

❄️ rating: M

❄️ wordcount: 10694

❄️ summary - Gabriella has always worked hard, rigorously devoting herself to studying, building her own company from the ground up, and finally building the first house of many on a private, wooded cul-de-sac. She was comfortable with the neighbors she’d grown relationships with over the last few years, life was still, peaceful, as she’d always dreamt it would be – that is, until he moved in next door. What happens when two annoying neighbors end up trapped together with nowhere to run?

⚠︎ chapter warnings: profanity, graphic seggsual content, alcohol consumption, drunk seggs, ONS, possible regret

S/N: This story was written as part of the A Love Like War Writing Event hosted by Sammi of @bangtanwritershq

I'd like to give a special thanks to @downbad4yoongi for lending me her beta skills and helping me to perfect this story!!! A very special thanks to @bangtanwritershq fellow execs for being my rock and keeping me motivated through all of my trying times!! Yall the real G.O.A.T.'s!!!!!

“Why the silent treatment for over a week? I thought–” Gabriella is abruptly cut off.

“You thought what? We had something special?” The sarcasm rolls easily off of his tongue. “It was nice…no, it was fucking great, but it really doesn’t change anything, does it? You’d been at my throat constantly, one night of passion doesn’t change much.”

“Jungkook, we cleared the air, agreed to let bygones be bygones…are you saying we didn’t?” Irritation radiates in her tone, but Gabriella remains as calm as reasonably possible.

“We were drinking, we were basically trapped together, things happened, but when I woke up the next morning…” Jungkook sighs deeply, “I mean, what do you want me to say? Should we just call it a mistake?.”

“A mistake? Transposing numbers in your address, that’s a mistake. Forgetting to add an ingredient to a recipe, that’s a mistake. Fucking someone the way you fucked me?! That’s not a mistake!”

“Was it that good?” Jungkook teases.

“Was it…Fuck you, Kook! Fuck you! Is everything a damn joke to you? I thought you were different, but I guess I was wrong!” Anger flows through her blood.

“I don’t understand why you’re getting mad! Did we decide that we’re now obligated to speak to each other because we fucked? No! You’ve been rude to me since I moved in, but now you think we’re besties? It happened, it was phenomenal, but I don’t get why you’re so angry.” Jungkooks usual bright doe eyes become dim.

“I’m mad because…” She’s unable to find the words, unable to express how she really feels deep inside, not anger but hurt. “I opened my doors to you, even though you annoyed the shit out of me, I opened myself to you and now I feel trampled on.”

He sees the tears welling in her eyes, moving his gaze from her to the quiet street, “I’m sorry,” He replies as he stands and walks toward the door, “but that wasn't my intention.”

“Then what was your intention?” Her voice breaks, the emotions building within her on the brink of eruption.

With his back turned to her, hand on the storm door handle, he mumbles nearly incoherently, “I don’t know.” He walks into the house, closing the door in her face.

“MOTHERFUCKER!!!!”

The bright sun slowly creeps above the large trees surrounding the eastern end of the cul-de-sac. The sound of birds chirping, insects chittering, wind blowing through the leaves of the thick forest create a peaceful ambience – which is abruptly interrupted by the sound of a large vehicle.

Gabriella peers through her large picture window, watching the large moving truck travel down the road and into the driveway of the recently sold home next door. She was sad to see her long-time neighbors and friends leave – but she’s now more interested in who’s moving into their home.

She watches closely as three men exit the front of the moving truck, “When’s the new owner gonna arrive?” She mumbles to herself while admiring the driver. 

The men are wearing coveralls, but the driver has the top half down and the arms tied around his snatched waist. He bears a form fitting gray tank top, his chest nearly bursting through the ribbed material, his biceps bulge as he opens the back of the moving van, but the sleeve of tattoos decorating his arm is what catches her eye.

Sipping coffee from her steaming mug, she enjoys the view, as the three men haul furniture and boxes into the once empty home. Dawn becomes high noon, Gabriella finishes a virtual meeting with an overseas client and returns to her chaise lounge nestled in front of her large picture window. 

The men appear to be on a lunch break, sitting in the driveway against the garage door, shielding themselves from the sun. Her eyes naturally drawn back to Mr. Tattoo, his hair becoming wavy from his sweat. The cool, mid-March air contrasts with the heat from his body, made apparent by the steam rising from his head. After gulping down the rest of his water, the three men get back to work moving more items from the large truck.

High noon fades as dusk begins to creep in and the men finally carry the last few boxes into the home. Before sitting down to eat dinner, she makes her way to the living room window to draw the curtains closed and that’s when she notices something interesting – only two men leave in the moving van and the tattooed man stands in the driveway waving goodbye. 

That’s odd she thinks to herself before walking back to the table to enjoy her meal in peaceful solitude. As she eats she comes to the decision that, per her usual neighborly welcoming duties, she’ll whip up a ready-baked casserole in the morning and bring it to the home as a kind gesture – and to determine if the moving man is still in the home. 

Before the sun rises, Gabriella’s in the kitchen putting together her neighborhood block party favorite, no peek chicken, along with instructions on how to cook it. She scours her closet for an outfit, opting for her favorite pinstripe navy slim ankle trousers, white tank top, cropped navy cashmere sweater and a pair of navy block heels. She pins half of her hair up in a neat messy bun and curls the bottom half into loose spirals. She quickly applies the basic makeup – powder, eyeliner, lipstick and lightly dusts her cheekbones with blush. Before heading over she grabs her Versace Bright Crystal perfume, bursting two pumps in the air and walking through to apply it as sparingly as possible.

She grabs the casserole dish from the refrigerator and walks to the window to peek through her curtains, which to her surprise, there’s still not a vehicle in the driveway. Rather than assume things, she opts to believe the new homeowner parked their vehicle in the garage. 

She walks out the front door and makes her way to the neighbors house, the butterflies in her stomach dissipate as she approaches the front porch. Before she’s able to knock, the door swings open, revealing a man stretching on the other side of the glass storm door wearing nothing but a pair of Calvin Klein boxer briefs.

She attempts to set her eyes on anything other than him, however, the familiar tattooed arm captures her attention. Her gaze trails down his arm extended above his head to his perfectly sculpted torso. Just as she’s giving in to the temptation to continue down to the waistband emblazoned with the familiar CK logo, the man clears his throat, averting her attention to his face.

“Can I help you?” He asks running his fingers through his chin length, wavy hair to pull it away from his face.

The brisk air doesn’t stop the sweat from beading above her lip, her knees begin to feel weak and she can’t find the words.

“I’m…Umm, I’m your neighbor, Gabriella. I live next door and wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood. I would’ve stopped by yesterday, but I wasn’t sure if you lived here. Do you live here? Of course you do! What a dumb question! You just opened the door, in your underwear, so this has to be your home. Anyway, I made a ready-bake no peek chicken casserole for you. I wrote the instructions for it, I just figured it would be easier to just throw this in the oven rather than go grocery shopping the day after you move in and I’m so sorry, I’m just rambling away, what’s your name?” She laughs nervously, deep down inside she wants to quickly set down the Pyrex dish and sprint back to her house.

He opens the door, giving her a clearer view of him, “Jungkook, my name’s Jungkook. Nice to meet you, Ella. It’s okay if I call you Ella, right?” She smiles and nods her head. “Thank you for the food. I planned on ordering delivery, but I can tell this’ll taste much better.” He reaches for the dish and shoots her a smile that nearly melts her – a sharp jaw and manly dimples, pearly white teeth, always the first features she notices about a man and he has them. He stares at her with his large doe eyes, still holding the door open, shivering and his teeth chattering.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry! It’s cold and I’m holding you up! You’re welcome, and again, welcome to the neighborhood! I look forward to getting to know you!” Without waiting for a response, she quickly turns and leaves his porch making a hasty retreat back to her house.  

Once she’s back inside her warm home, warm blood tints her cheeks and she cups her face in her hands. She’s well aware that it’s not from the warmth of the heat flowing through the house, it’s a feeling she hasn’t enjoyed in quite a while – desire.

She can picture his tattooed arm wrapping around her body, pulling her to him as he gazes into her eyes and kisses her aggressively. The way his muscular body would feel on top of hers, skin to skin, as he ravages her sense of reality with his manhood.

Letting out a deep sigh, she laughs to herself, because she knows very well that she has no time to get involved with anyone. Running her company occupies more of her time than she prefers, yet the long-term benefits outweigh a lack of social life. On the other hand, a couple of hours on a night or two getting hot and heavy with her new hot neighbor would be a convenient opportunity to satisfy her needs.

She pushes the thought to the back of her mind, keeping it there for future reference, if the opportunity happens to arise. Gabriella changes into something a little more comfortable, trading the ankle trousers for satin wide-leg pajama bottoms, hanging the cropped sweater back in her closet, and replacing her heels with her favorite pair of Pink slippers. 

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

After a long day of cleaning, she retreats to her backyard oasis, kindling a small fire in the stone pit and pouring a glass of wine. The wind whispering through the trees in the forest, owls hooting to one another, insects buzzing in the distance are what compose a relaxing atmosphere for her. She can escape the hustle and bustle of a lengthy commute, overlapping chatter at a restaurant and the constant ringing and dinging of her phone when she withdraws to her sanctuary.

She rests her head back against the patterned cushion of the patio furniture and closes her eyes, taking in the melodic singing of nature – until her serenity is interrupted by the loudest bass drop she’s heard outside of a concert.

“What the fuck is that?” She grumbles to herself. Following the sound, she’s led to the side of her yard where Jungkook just moved in. As she nears the fence, she can hear people laughing and talking louder than necessary.

Although it’s rather irritating to have her quiet night interrupted by his party, she decides to not piss and moan, he did just move in and she understands he’s deserving of a housewarming party. Walking back toward the patio, she grabs her wine and heads inside. 

“He could’ve invited me.” She pouts on her way into her room. Rather than dwell on the fact that he completely disregarded her kind gesture and left her out, she plays her favorite sleeping playlist and quickly falls into a deep slumber.

Gabriella’s business has been extremely busy, so she’s had to bring boatloads of work home, however finishing her tasks the last few weeks has not been easy thanks to her gradual irritation with her new annoying neighbor, Jungkook.

Every weekend since he’s moved in he’s thrown a huge party, ten to fifteen cars parked around the cul-de-sac every Friday or Saturday, music blasting until just before dawn. This morning was almost the final straw for her when she found a drunken party-goer peeing in between their houses, luckily for the idiot and Jungkook, he came outside and scolded the man for being a pig.

Nevertheless, her patience was wearing thin, but she figures she can give it the old college try and invite him to her holiday barbecue she’s having next weekend. While she assumes he’s still sleeping, she walks over to leave the invite at his front door.

Carefully opening the storm door, she drops the invite in and gently shuts it and attempts to make a quick retreat. Her escape is unexpectedly spoiled by a familiar voice.

“What’s this?” His hoarse voice barely heard through the storm door.

“It’s an invite, I’m having a barbecue next weekend and figured I should extend an invitation to my new neighbor. Just a friendly gesture from me to you.” Her smug tone isn’t as subtle as she thinks it is.

“Oh, thanks. I’ll try to make it, but I don’t usually plan my weekend in advance, I’m more of a go with the flow type of person.” 

She can’t help but find her disdain for this man dissipating as she once again ogles over his half naked body. Unlike the first time they met, he’s wearing sweatpants and it’s evident he has nothing on underneath them. Hanging on his hips, her eyes trail from the waistband to the hanging strings, noticing what appears to be the outline of his generously sized member. 

Biting her bottom lip, she lets out a sigh, “Well, I hope you can make it. Spring is the perfect time to enjoy the outdoors around here, our summers are short, hot and humid, so it’s difficult to enjoy the outside during those months…think about it and let me know what you like to drink, that is, if you decide to come.”

“Of course…and I want to apologize about the parties. If you ever have a problem, feel free to come over and let me know.” He shoots her that smile and she melts.

“Oh, it’s no problem at all.” She lies through her teeth and smiles, nodding her head before walking away.

Back at home, she can’t help but laugh at herself, “What the fuck is wrong with you ‘Oh, it’s no problem at all’ my ass!!! If that man wasn’t so damn attractive I’d give him a piece of my mind!”

Once again, rather than dwell on her obvious desperation to get laid, she gets busy focusing on the last few documents she has to prepare for her meeting with the board of directors Monday morning. 

Before the afternoon begins to fade into dusk, Gabriella finishes completing her preparations for Monday morning and settles in her backyard oasis once again. Replacing the wine with tea, she relaxes while listening to the tranquil evening song of the night wind.

Just as she’s about to retreat inside, a familiar voice calls to her, “Ella.” Jungkook’s voice is surprising, almost harmonious with the peaceful night sounds. 

“Jungkook, you startled me! I’m surprised to see you in my yard, since there’s not a huge party or anything.” She feels liberated using such a sarcastic tone.

Jungkook giggles, acknowledging he understands her mockery, “I was on my balcony and noticed you sitting out back by yourself. Just coming to say hi as my neighborly duty.” 

“Well, if you’d watched a little longer, you would’ve noticed I was heading back inside.” 

“Well, I see that now, maybe next time.” He begins to head back toward the open gate.

“Jungkook…” She waits until he turns back toward her, “would you care for a cup of tea?”

“Sure.” He replies nonchalantly and strolls over to her patio.

“Okay, I’ll only be a minute.” She disappears into the house, returning about five minutes later. She hands him his tea and sits on the patio chair across from him, blowing into her mug before taking a sip. “You didn’t have any plans for tonight?”

“I told you earlier, I don’t like to make plans. Today was one of those days I felt like relaxing, so here I am.” He sips his tea, lolling his head back to take in the view of the clear sky as the distant rays from the sun tint the sky with warm orange and soft pink tones . “It’s really peaceful out here. I’m used to living in the city, the hustle and bustle of feet shuffling along the sidewalk, noisy traffic, loud music…but here I’m able to attain serenity.”

“That’s why I chose this cul-de-sac.” Gabriella adds. “It’s…private, quiet and surrounded by nature. Aside from the fact there are only five houses and outside of it, there’s not another property for at least two miles.”

“Five houses?” Jungkook asks in confusion.

“There’s a house on the other side of mine, but you wouldn’t notice it if you don’t pay attention. It’s nestled deep in the woods with a gravel driveway, but it’s covered in leaves. It’s actually a beautiful house, it’s unfortunate it wasn’t for sale when I looked here, because I would’ve bought it.” She sighs and sips her tea.

“I never noticed it. It’s probably so peaceful, I’m sure the trees create a sound barrier.” Jungkook gazes off into the direction of the hidden home as he finishes his tea. “Well, I suppose I should get going. Thank you for the tea, Ella.”

“It was my pleasure,” she replies. “We should do this again, that is, if you feel the need for peace and serenity again.”

“Maybe.” His voice deep and seductive, Gabriella's body responds with a buzz of electricity that raises prickly goosebumps on her arms.

“Don’t be a stranger, we are neighbors after all.”

“I won’t,” he responds before heading back to his house. 

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

The week passes by in a flash, full of meetings and business dinners, making Gabriella that much more excited for the weekend to finally arrive. She loves holiday weekends and gathering with friends and family, she doesn’t feel so alone – but inside she’s secretly hoping Jungkook will attend.

Gabriella finishes setting up her outdoor oasis to accommodate her guests, gives her home a “once-over”, and prepares to welcome her guests as they arrive.

Car by car, her friends and family arrive, filling the backyard with cheerful banter. Everything seems to be perfect, except for one factor – Jungkook still has yet to show up. Gabriella continuously checks her watch, peeks toward the side of the house and even goes as far as to check out the living room window, all to no avail. 

She returns to her guests, pushing back the nagging irritation that began to settle in, that is, until the powerful bass drops from the other side of the fence. Her guests attempt to talk loudly over the music, but she insists they move the party into the house. Once everyone’s inside, she makes her move, slipping away on the side of the house, her adrenaline rushing as she approaches his front door.

She can see him through the storm window, entertaining a woman who clearly came for the attention with her barely there, strapless mini dress. He laughs at whatever the woman is saying, fueling her rage even more and she pounds on the tempered glass.

He excuses himself and begins walking toward the door, flashing that smile that can usually make her melt, but not tonight. 

“Oh hey, Ella,” he greets her as he steps out onto the porch. “Did you need something?”

She can’t believe the audacity of this man, not only did he completely ignore her invitation, but he also decided to throw another huge party on the same night as her get-together.

“Oh hey?” She snarls, her blood boiling with each passing second. “It’s one thing if you didn’t want to attend my barbecue, but to throw another fucking party on the same night is pretentious!”

Jungkook smacks his forehead, “Oh fuck! I forgot about it, I swear! A few of my friends from college messaged me the day after I received your invite and let me know they’d be in town. I wanted to come, but I haven’t seen them in a couple of years. I’m really sorry.”

“Sorry? Sorry?!” She yells heatedly. “I was okay letting you slide with the first eighteen billion parties you had every damn weekend since you’ve moved in, but this right here crosses the line! I work hard every day of the week! Seven days a week! I rarely get the opportunity to unwind with friends and family, this is one of two events I cater at my home every year, and you ruined it!”

“I ruined it?” Jungkook chuckles, “I didn’t ruin shit, you came over here of your own volition, am I right? You left your party to come over here! You ruined your own fucking party! As a matter of fact, I’ll get back to my party where we’re actually having fun, you can go enjoy your stiff ass guests.”

He turns and walks back in the house, making sure to slam the door behind him – now she’s furious.

“Game on, you annoying prick,” she sneers before returning to her home. She goes inside and puts on her game face, continuing to entertain her guests, plotting her next move in her subconscious.

A couple of weeks after her interrupted party, Gabriella sits in the backyard with her college friend, Taeyhung.

“So, how are things with the neighbor after your party duel?” Taehyung jokingly asks.

“It wasn’t a duel,” she scoffs, “I even invited him to the party, but he instead threw a party of his own. He’s so damn annoying, but that’s not what you’re here to talk about.”

Taehyung chuckles, “You’re right, back to business. Did you have a vision for the pool design, or do you trust my artistic instincts?”

“Tae, I know you,” she chuckles softly, “I don’t want anything extravagant. Simple. Elegant. Like me. A basic lap pool, with a seven, no, eight foot splash pad at the top for lounging and a mid-sized hot tub on the opposite end. Simple.”

Taehyung stands, taking a sip of his tea as he looks over her yard. Making a square with his thumbs and forefingers, he searches the yard for the best placement. She loves watching her friend when he transforms into designer mode, his eyes twinkle with excitement and he turns to her with that perfect boxy smile.

“There,” he points to an area of her large yard, “I think that spot would be perfect. There’s no slope, it leaves enough green space to gather outside of the pool and I can envision the beautiful simplicity of the pool.”

“Let’s do it! How soon can you start?” Gabriella shrieks in excitement. 

“I’ll get the approval to dig within the next couple of days, this has to start sooner than later, so you can enjoy your pool before the temperature drops. With only eight weeks of Summer here, the pool will be ready for use just a couple of weeks before fall begins.” 

“Tae, if it can’t happen until the spring, I’m okay with that. No need to put that much pressure on yourself.”

“It’s no pressure at all. I know you’ve been under a lot of stress, I’m even going to add a few upgrades for free.” He winks at her before finishing, “I’m going to make sure it’s heated so the water is always a pleasant temperature, an automatic pool cover and color changing pool lights. You’re my friend and if you hadn’t supported me in the beginning, I don’t know if my business would be this successful.”

“Tae, you really don’t–”

“I do. I’ll add a slide coming from your balcony if you’d like!” 

They both laugh and make their way back over to the patio and continue into the night reminiscing on the carefree days of college. As the evening sky begins to fill with stars, they finally decide to call it a night. 

“I’ll call you when I get the approval to dig and begin working on your pool immediately, until then, Goodnight Gabriella.”

“Goodnight Tae.”

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

With a few weeks left until summer, the digging for her pool and settling of the dirt is ready for concrete to be laid. Gabriella strolls around her future pool, imagining the parties she will have, even able to cater to her family and friends' children, her children one day, she’s enlightened at the thought.

Making her way back to the house, she hears loud machine noises coming from Jungkook's side of the fence. Her curious nature gets the best of her and she heads to the fence, peering through the small gaps in the wood. She can see a small excavator digging in the yard, but what she sees next bothers her the most – Taehyung and Jungkook looking over blueprints.

“What the fuck?” She curses under her breath. “Is he having a pool installed too? Whatever, it’s his property, he can do what he wants.”

Rather than make a fuss, she’s happy Taehyung is getting business and making money, supporting her friend is much more important than her own personal grievances.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Three weeks into summer and her pool is finally ready for use. She invites her siblings and their children to enjoy the pool. They come nearly everyday for a week, even while she’s at work and nothing could bring her more joy.

She invites some of her closest friends for a swim on the weekend and she’s ready to let loose. After a short dip in the pool they relax on lounge chairs in the splash pad and she gives them the latest update on her annoying neighbor.

“Then this douchebag installs a pool with waterpark amenities! He even has a slide that comes off of his balcony into the pool! If I didn’t know any better, I’d believe he was trying to upstage me every chance he gets, just fucking annoying!” Gabriella rolls her eyes and slams the remaining wine in her glass.

“Listen, Gabs, don’t fret yourself with the likes of that man! He’s clearly trying to overcompensate for his shortcomings, if you know what I mean.” Her best friend, Jisoo, laughs hysterically at her own joke.

“Ji, I don’t think he has any shortcomings in that department, more of just an immature outlook on life…one that irks my very being, but I’ll just continue to brush him and his childlike ways off.”

Their conversation is cut short by the sudden loud music coming from Jungkook’s yard, “So this is what you’re talking about,” Jisoo scoffs. “How the fuck are we supposed to relax poolside with–” Her eyes widen as she stares over the fence.

Gabriella follows her gaze and sees her neighbor, completely naked – and clearly well endowed – at the top of his slide. She can’t tear her eyes away from his body as the setting sun tints his sun-kissed skin with a pink glow, but as much as she’s enjoying this view she’s also filled with rage.

“That’s fucking it!” She immediately rises from her chair and runs to her neighbors to really give him a piece of her mind.

She bypasses the front door and heads to the other side of his house, opening his gate and running to the backyard just as he launches from the slide into the pool. To her surprise, he’s alone, but that’s not what’s important.

“Jungkook!” She screams his name as he emerges from the water, startling him and he just smiles.

He swims to the shallow end of the pool and gets out, quickly grabbing his towel and loosely wrapping it around his waist.

“Ella! I can turn the music down, I didn’t even realize you were in your pool.” He smiles as he gives her exposed body a once over. She feels naked having chosen the skimpiest thong bikini she has, clearly not expecting to meet him like this.

“I don’t give a shit about the music, I’ve become immune to it.” She snarls, “What I’m concerned about is the fact that you decided to come out onto your balcony in your birthday suit.”

“Did it make you uncomfortable or maybe it made you hot and bothered?” He jokes.

“I…ugh, fuck no! What if my nieces and nephews were over again to swim? Did you think about that? There are families in this neighborhood and your balcony is viewable from both backyards on either side of your house! You really need to grow the fuck up!” 

She storms off without another word and returns to her friends. They don’t say a word, but they’ve heard everything she’s said. They suggest moving the party into the house and to put this incident behind her in hopes that he’s learned his lesson and it won’t happen again.

Gabriella has spent most of the summer enjoying her pool and fall is beginning to settle in, luckily Taehyung installed a pool heater. It’s quite refreshing to leave the cool night air and blanket herself in the security of the warm water. Stepping out of the pool and back into the cool air is exhilarating.

Hurrying back into the house, she changes into warm, dry clothes and relaxes in her chaise lounge after her tea finishes steeping. While looking out at her front yard, she realizes it’s in desperate need of landscaping. 

She contacts a well-known landscaping company and schedules an overhaul of her yard – removal of all dead and dying plants, shrubbery upgrade from the dried up sprinter boxwood to Korean Spice Viburnum, petunias planted under the large weeping willow and a Tiered Versailles Fountain surrounded by winter boxwoods.

She excitedly hangs up the phone and begins picturing how lavish, yet classic and simple her yard will be. It’s been a few years since she last had the landscaping done, so it’s time for a change anyway

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

After a week of waiting, her new landscaping was underway. They’d installed the fountain first, as it was the most difficult portion of the design, and now they’re beginning the removal process of the old shrubbery and plants.

Once the yard work is finished, she thanks the workers and takes pictures to send to her best friend. In five years, she’s gone from a small business owner to one of the largest conglomerates in the Northern United States. 

Gabriella is proud of herself, proud of the woman she’s become – independent and carefree. Yet, the loneliness she’s begun to feel over the last year is almost too much to bear.

“Maybe that’s why I tolerate the gorgeous, annoying fucker next door,” she grumbles to herself. 

The last relationship she was in ended abruptly and she promised herself that the next man would be the type to appreciate a successful woman. However, she wasn’t so sure that Jungkook was that type of man either.

Why is he so competitive? She ponders. Whatever his reason, he’s still a douchebag.

She pushes her inquisitive thoughts to the back of her mind and returns inside to her home office to finalize a proposal. Oftentimes she feels as if her work never ends, that she’s drowning without water, nevertheless, in the end it’s all worth it. She always emerges above water and becomes stronger.

She’s exhausted from everything and goes straight to bed, allowing her pillow to absorb all of her worries.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

The next morning she stands at her kitchen island, sipping her coffee and checking her emails. There's a commotion outside and her first thought is that Jungkook is up to something.

She heads to the picture window and can’t believe what she’s seeing, “This motherfucker!” She rushes out the front door wearing only a satin robe and a short slip underneath.

Jungkook stands with his back facing her in his driveway, directing the landscaping company, “Move it that way about four feet and away from the house another two to three feet!”

“Jungkook!” Gabriella screams, startling him a bit.

He whips around, “Ella! You scared me! What brings you out here…dressed like that?” Once again he looks her up and down, admiring her curves as she realizes what she’s wearing and pulls the satin robe tightly around her body.

“It’s one thing to upgrade your landscape, but to go so far as to put that over-the-top marble statue fountain is a little much. I’m not saying you can’t have a fountain, but this is excessive?”

Jungkook laughs heartily, “I wasn’t aware that there was a limit to the type or size of fountain I could have installed in my yard. I didn’t see that in the neighborhood handbook?”

“My friends were right…” She snarls, “You must be overcompensating for your shortcomings.” 

“Wouldn’t you like to find out,” Jungkook snaps back, his cocky tone infuriates Gabriella.

“I wouldn’t fuck you with a pocket pussy!” A downright lie was the only comeback she could gather in that moment.

“Yeah, okay. Well…” He pauses and smiles at her with confidence, because he knows as well as her that he’s won this argument, “if you don’t have anything else, I’m fairly busy right now, doing what I want on my property. Have a great day.” 

“Rrgh,” she growls in defeat as she watches him walk away. Deep down, she wishes they could just get along – but is he really the problem?

Two months have passed, aside from the occasional eyerolls or flipping each other off, neither of them have spoken a word to one another. Gabriella could care less, winter is settling in swiftly, the sub-freezing temperatures have chilled her, literally. 

Winter there can be brutal, the numbing cold is only a small portion of the savage climate – it’s the unpredictable blizzards that create the utmost danger.

Fortunately, Ella has lived in this private cul-de-sac for three years and she experienced a monstrous blizzard the first year she lived here. After being stuck in her house for nearly two days without electricity, she made the logical decision to have a state-of-the-art generator installed for emergency purposes. 

As she waits for the generator technician to finish the yearly maintenance and test run on her generator, a thought crosses her mind – Jungkook's house doesn’t have a generator.

She laughs at her naivety, because he could probably care less about her well-being, so why should she give two fucks about his. Just then, the tech knocks at her patio door, letting her know he’s finished everything.

“You’re good to go. This generator will last you at least 30 more years, having the shed built to keep it safe from all weather conditions was a smart move. Honestly, more homeowners should do that.”

“I definitely did my research before purchasing this model, so I figured that would be the easiest way to keep it intact. Well, thank you so much! Have a great day and keep warm, it’s getting cold out here!”

Gabriella bundles up with blankets on the sofa, enjoying a mug of hot cocoa and browsing through the television channels. Across the bottom of all local channels is the same message – Blizzard Season.

Last year was the same, although it wasn’t as bad as the first and second year, she still gets nervous at the thought. After much consideration, she’d made the executive decision to have all employees work from home for the next three weeks. She isn’t willing to risk anyone having an accident or being stranded at the office, it’s better to be safe than sorry.

Over the next week, other than below zero wind chill, there hasn’t been a snowflake in sight. However, that soon changes as the forecaster predicts a snow storm with expectations of twelve or more inches, beginning tonight around 10:00 PM.

She prepares herself for the worst, immediately heading to the store and stocking up on hand warmers, bottled water, candles, flashlight batteries, thick socks and gloves and gas for her snowblower. 

As she arrives back to her house, the flurries have begun and she knows this is the “calm” before the storm. As she waits for her garage door to open, she glances over at Jungkook’s house, wondering if he’s prepared for the storm. For a moment, she thinks about being the bigger person and letting him know if his situation goes south he can come to her house. She knows the previous owners didn’t bother having a generator installed, since it was just a summer home for them it wasn’t necessary. Just as quickly as the thought crosses her mind, she dismisses it and pulls into the garage.

“If he needs my help, he can come and ask for it since he’s such a big man.” Instantly, all of the agitated feelings she had before rush back. Once inside the house she takes a couple shots of warmed brandy to ease the tension and soothe her chilled bones.

A couple of hours pass and the severity of the storm intensifies. As she peers out the picture window, the snow is a thick blanket on the ground, drifting snow has gathered down the dark road leading out of the cul-de-sac in mounds nearly four to five feet high and visibility is limited through the falling flakes.

She glances over at Jungkook’s house and notices his lights are still on, not that she cares, but she does feel a bit of relief. Even though she loathes the man, she doesn’t want him freezing to death, because they can’t get along. Going against her own best judgment, she decides that, in the event he loses power, she’ll extend the olive branch and invite him to her house.

Just as she’s about to settle on the sofa and check the news the wind and snow pick up, the eye of the storm has arrived and it’s only going to get worse from here. Rather than worry herself, she turns on her relaxation playlist and slowly drifts to sleep.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

A few hours pass and she wakes up to a frightening scene outside of her window – the street lights are either off or the snow’s so thick she can’t see them. She checks her generator on the interior monitor and sees that the autostart has engaged. Quickly running to her window she strains to see Jungkook’s house, from her view it seems to be pitch black, until she notices a faint light passing by a window.

“Fuck,” she mumbles under her breath. On one hand, she can’t stand the fucker and doesn’t want to travel through the deep snow to offer her help. On the other hand, her humanity is telling her she has to at least attempt to help him. “If he says no, I’m not going to beg him.”

She quickly throws on a pair of thick socks, her snow pants and boots, winter coat and gloves, grabbing a flashlight and hand warmers before walking out of her front door and making the treacherous trek to his house. Her cheeks burn from the frosty wind and she immediately regrets leaving the house without her scarf.

After what felt like an eternity she’s at his front door, banging loudly, not out of worry, but because she wants to get shelter from the wind. She sees a candle through the window and then the door opens. Jungkook lets her in, wearing jogging pants and a sweater with a throw blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

“What the hell are you doing? It’s deadly out there!” Jungkook scolds her.

“What am I doing? What are you doing? It’s freezing in here, I take it you lost power?” She asks sincerely.

“Obviously, otherwise I wouldn’t be standing here with a candle and you definitely wouldn’t have come to check on me.” He laughs heartily.

“How can you joke at a time like this?” Her frustration builds up, “People die in these types of situations!” She’s shaking with anger.

“Calm down, I was just joking,” his tone comes off timid, very unlike his usual cocky persona.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t come to start an argument, I came to tell you that if you wanted to, you’re more than welcome to take shelter at my house until it’s safe to return to your house.”  

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose, but I also don’t want to freeze to death.” His doe eyes pout at her, “But how do you still have power?”

“I’ll explain when we get to my house, now go and pack some dry clothes and pajamas, bring enough clothes for at least a couple days. Only because it could take them a day or two to get the electricity back up and running. There’s no need to run back and forth until then.” She nods for him to hurry. Jungkook scurries off into the darkness and comes back a bit later with a duffle bag following her out the front door and back to her house.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

JK changes into dry clothes and returns to the living room, still toweling his hair dry and drops onto the sofa on the opposite end from her. His long, wavy locks fluff up around his face, his biceps flexing with each scrub and she can’t help but stare.

“It’s crazy how different your house is from mine,” he says, his eyes gazing up at the vaulted ceiling, “My ceiling is high, but yours appears massive.”

“This isn’t an HOA, when the homeowners built their houses they were given free range to choose whatever style fit their taste. My house is nothing, the first house on the left is like a castle! There’s marble flooring throughout the entire place!” Her eyes sparkle as she talks about it, her small interior design business grew into one of the largest architecture firms solely based on her designs and visions. 

“Your house is pretty awesome, I mean, mine is decent, but the interior in mine is a bit outdated?” His face reddens with embarrassment.

“Oh, believe me, I know,” she jokes. “I had to update a lot of this home when I purchased it! I felt like the 80’s smashed into the 90’s when I first viewed this home, but I could see it had potential.”

“I’ll definitely need to update mine once the weather warms up and I hear there’s a well-known interior designer in the neighborhood.” He grins at her softly and she begins to see a different side of him.

“Well, maybe she can find time in her tight schedule to go over some ideas and get a little inspiration from that homeowner.” She replies coyly.

“If you don’t mind, can I have a tour? Maybe I can get some design inspo from this beautifully designed home?” His tone is curious and flirty.

“Of course, where would you like to start?”

“I typically like to start from the bottom and work my way up.” Jungkook asserts provocatively.

Gabriella’s cheeks warm with bashfulness as she forces herself not to smile. Instead, she heads to the kitchen, opening a bottle of wine, “Care for a glass?”

A half-grin forms on his face and he nods his head in acceptance. She pours the wine and slides his glass across the island, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

She walks toward the basement entry and he follows in stride, unable to admire the architecture with her tiny waist and round ass in front of him. He’s only had tiny glimpses of her perfect frame considering most of their encounters end in arguments, but tonight he’s going for a different approach.

Jungkook can’t deny the fact that he was captivated by her the moment he first laid eyes on her, since then he’s realized his approach to get her attention wasn’t going to work. He could tell she saw him as a man, nevertheless, he deciphered his body wasn’t the key to get him any closer to her.

Everytime she was near him, he wanted to pull her body close to his, his large hand on the small of her back, their lips meeting, flesh to flesh, but the opportunity never arose. Even when she was angry and yelling at him, he found himself turned on, desiring her even more. 

As she talked about the different areas in her basement, like her art studio, music studio and design room, all he could think about was laying her petite body on multiple surfaces.

“I know your house already has a media room in the basement, but there’s definitely room to expand it.” She turns to see Jungkook in a daze, obviously not hearing a word she’s said. “Your cheeks are a bit rosy, can’t handle the wine?” She teases.

“Huh?” His daze is broken, “Oh, no, I can handle my liquor, I was just thinking of different ideas for my…basement.”

“Well, I think expanding the home theater would be great, you’d definitely spend more time there…rather than outside.”

“About that,” his voice timid again, “Sorry about being so annoying. It’s just my first home and I wanted to enjoy the first year as much as possible, before life gets in the way.”

“I get it. When I first bought this house five years ago, I think I partied nearly everyday for the first few months! I mean, my parties weren’t as wild as yours and I made sure that after a certain time we moved into the house, but I understand. No explanation necessary.” She smiles and nods for him to follow her back upstairs, grabbing the wine from the kitchen they get comfortable on the floor in front of the fireplace.

A couple of bottles later, “While I attended Cornell University's Architecture program, I did interior design on the side. I had to pay for as much of the tuition after aid that I could, I didn’t want to finish college in debt. My network grew and by the time I finished college, I’d traveled to so many states doing interior design just from word of mouth. I was able to expand the small business I started from interior design to include architecture.”

“That’s pretty fucking awesome and an accomplishment worth bragging about. Cheers to Ella and her successful life she’s manifested!” They clink their glasses together and their eyes meet. 

Never did the thought cross her mind that she’d be sitting on her living room floor, enjoying a conversation with Jungkook. The more she learns about him, the more intrigued she becomes by his mysteriousness.

“Enough about me, what about you? I know you own the largest moving company in the United States, how did you begin?” She finishes her wine and fills her glass, emptying the third bottle.

“I’ll grab another one,” he suggests, quickly heading to the kitchen and bringing back a bottle. After filling his glass again, he begins, “I came from a normal family, nothing glamorous or spectacular, just a blue collar working father and a part-time waitressing mother. As the youngest of four, I always felt forgotten about, which for most people leads to bad decisions. Instead, I focused on school and getting into college, I wanted to make my parents proud…I wanted them to notice me.” Tears well in her eyes as she listens to the raw, pure emotion in his voice. 

“I maintained a 4.0 GPA throughout high school, senior year the offers were pouring in, but none of the colleges piqued my interest. I began applying to schools like Harvard, Yale, Columbia, major ivy league universities and a couple of them responded, but I realized the tuition was beyond my reach even with aid. I was about to give up, when I received an offer from Stanford University. A full-ride scholarship, but I had to write a full scale business plan in order for further consideration. While finishing high school, I switched one of my electives to an AP Business Class, where I quickly learned how to prepare a successful business plan.”

“What made you choose a moving company?” Gabriella questions, fully invested in his climb to success.

“I knew I wanted to run my own business and many ideas crossed my mind, but I also wanted it to be a business that benefited blue collar workers, like my dad. That’s when I decided on the moving company. We not only would provide pick-up and drop-off, we’d also provide storage for those that have sold their current home and were waiting to get into a new home or for it to be built. Before going to college, my parents had a going away party, since I didn’t get a graduation party. At the end of the night, after everyone left, they sat me in the living room and handed me a bank book. From the time I was born, until I left for college, they’d saved $100 a week, over $93,000, for me. I took a small portion of that money and bought a moving truck and started a small moving business, just to continue adding to the money. By the time I graduated college, my business had already expanded throughout the state of California, I had over twenty moving trucks and 80 employees. I guess you can say we both succeeded in the same fashion, from pure drive and motivation.”

“Fucking amazing!” She cups her mouth in embarrassment after she yelled out drunkenly.

Jungkook laughs, “Well, I think you’re pretty fucking amazing too.” Sincerity in his tone awakens something inside of her. She leans forward and kisses him on his soft lips, she quickly pulls away, but his arm wraps around and brings her face within centimeters of his. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve waited for this moment.” Desperation and desire explode as their mouths part and tongues meet, a warm explosion of want and need. Their hands touch and explore each other's warm bodies, yearning for more with each caress, but Gabriella breaks away from the kiss.

“Slow down, we’ve got time, neither of us is going anywhere anytime soon.” She points toward the window, where the since forgotten snow storm is still bearing down ruthlessly just beyond the glass. She stands up and reaches her hand out for him to grab, “Let me finish giving you the tour.”

He rushes to his feet and follows behind her, unable to keep his hands to himself, he gently backs her up against the wall halfway up the stairs. Lifting one of her legs, he lowers himself enough to grind against her warm core. His mouth is unable to stay in one place as his lips meet her neck, then her collarbone, until he gently nibbles at her erect nipple through her satin top.

The mix of pain and pleasure rushes from her nipple to her overstimulated cunt as his hard cock rubs against her clit through his pants. The sound of her moans hastens his needy instinct, his hips rotate in a frenzy until the crotch of his once light gray sweats are dark and wet with their juices.

She can’t hold back any longer, pulling the waist of his pants down and sliding the short satin shorts to the side, longing to feel him inside of her. Grabbing his thick cock with her tiny hand, she places it between her slick lips, “I need to feel you, become one with you, please,” she begs as her demand for pleasure intensifies.

His lips kiss her softly and he gently inches into her, feeling the stretch of her untouched walls the deeper he ascends. Gripping him tight, he focuses on pleasing her, fighting the urge to paint her walls with his sticky nectar.

He lifts her other leg and she wraps around him, hugging him tightly as he grips her ass and begins to stroke methodically in and out of her. She nibbles at his lobe, before burying her face into his neck, leaving marks of passion. He begins to feel her walls pulsate and a rush of warmth as she reaches her peak, slowing his stroke until she’s finished.

Lowering her shaking legs, his hooded eyes dark and burning with a fiery passion, she begins to lead him up the stairs, but he isn’t quite done. He leans up against her backside, lowering her onto the stairs and position her ass in the air. He easily slides back into her slick opening, spreading her cheeks as he pounds into her relentlessly, her body trembling as she quickly reaches another high. He pulls his cock out, stroking it slowly to keep his momentum going, but she lays there spent and needing a moment. 

Jungkook effortlessly rolls her over and scoops her petite body into his arms and carries her to the top of the stairs, “Which way to your room?” She points down the long corridor to double glass doors and he wastes no time taking her there.

He enters the large master suite, her bed lies in the center of the room, a king-sized canopy with sheer drapes hanging on all four sides. He moves one of the soft curtains aside and places her on the edge of the bed, lowering to his knees and spreading her legs, his warm, soft tongue flicks gently at her sensitive nub. 

The jolt of pleasure brings life back to her nearly limp body and she reaches her hands to grip her fingers in his wavy hair. He pushes her hood back and his mouth engulfs her clit, sucking and circling it with his tongue. She rolls her hips, fucking herself with his mouth, creating a buzz of electricity as she cums on his chin.

She scoots back on her bed and motions for him to join her. He frantically lifts his shirt over his head and steps out of his jogging pants, crawling to her, kissing her body as he makes his way up, settling his hips between her thighs.

Gabriella has other plans in mind as she wraps her legs around him and rolls them over, positioning herself on top. He reaches up and cups her plump breasts, kneading her nipples as she lowers herself onto his stiff member.

She slowly slides up and down his shaft, his toes curling as he tries to fight his high. Her sliding shifts to bouncing, her own desperation to cum again takes over her entire being. Jungkook can see the neediness in her eyes, gripping her hips and holding her steady, he begins to thrust upward into her. 

He penetrates her and stops, hurriedly rolling her onto her back and pushing her legs to her shoulders, hovering his face within an inch of hers before continuing the savage pounding. Their harmonious moans and the squelching of their mixed juices pushes them both over the edge. They never break eye contact as their peaks meet one another, like a volcano erupting he fills her with his warm cum, sweat dripping from his face, soaking the comforter beneath her. 

He finally lowers himself on top of her, spent, his stamina needing a recharge. She pulls the throw blanket from the end of the bed and tosses it over them as Jungkook slides to her side, she rolls over and scoots her ass against him, pulling his arm over her as they drift to sleep.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Gabriella wakes up with a slight headache, but the feeling of Jungkook’s warm, sleeping body next to hers is settling, relaxing enough to ease the pain just a bit. She attempts to get up and his arm tightens around her body, “Just a little longer, please.” His pouty voice almost wins her over.

“As much as I’d love to stay here like this, we need some coffee and I need to check the status of the electricity in the neighborhood.” He lets out a long sigh, before giving in, throwing the blanket from his naked body and stretching his limbs.

She gets up from the bed and admires all of the glory that is Jeon Jungkook, the man she once loathed, has now become the object of her affection…or desire. Whatever he may become, last night will be a memory she keeps nestled away for a long time.

She heats up the water and begins making the drip coffee, before checking her phone. Just as Jungkook makes his way into the kitchen, her phone rings.

“Hello?...Okay…Well that’s a good thing and very fast…I’ll go check on my neighbors since the street’s still inaccessible…Stay warm and have a good day…goodbye…”

She hangs up and pours their coffee, “The electricity is restored, so you’ll be able to go home, that is, whenever you’re ready.”

“I think I’ll stay for a bit, if that’s okay with you.” She smiles and they enjoy coffee and a small breakfast together. He leads her to the guest bathroom and they shower together, put on lounging clothes and lay together on the sofa until they fall asleep watching TV.”

Gabriella wakes up just as the sun’s setting, but Jungkook isn’t next to her. She gets up and looks out the window at his house and sees the lights are on, her heart begins to feel a little heavy, but she knows it was probably just a one time occurrence and won’t happen again.

She walks into the kitchen to get a glass of water and notices a piece of paper on the island under his coffee cup:

“Ella,

I’m not sure what to say, but I know I want to say ‘Thank You’.

I don’t know if I would’ve survived the night alone in my house, even after everything we’ve been through, you still offered me a safe haven, and I appreciate you for that.

Where we go from here, who knows, but let’s not make things awkward, we can go back to the way things used to be (minus the arguing) and start on a new foot, fresh, being normal neighbors.

I owe you for everything, and I mean everything.

Jungkook”

 She’s not sure how to feel, she wants to scream and cry from shame. She wants to run over to his house and tell him how she feels, tell him that she doesn’t want to be normal neighbors, that she wants more. 

However, she knows she’ll do neither, she’ll accept things as they are and continue living her life like she has been – accepting the loneliness.

It’s been over a week since that night and they haven’t argued, in fact, they haven’t spoken to each other either. Gabriella has returned back to her busy work schedule, so it’s been a little easier to ignore the nagging feeling in her gut.

Friday evening, as she returns from work, Jungkook is sitting on his front porch. She wonders if he’s waiting for her, so rather than pull in the garage, she parks in front of it. She hopes he’ll call out to her and she’ll run over there eagerly, but he doesn’t, he sits and stares at his phone, not even a glance in her direction.

Gabriella finally loses it, she can’t take the unknown, she needs to figure out what’s going on and why he hasn’t spoken to her in over a week. She silently storms over, determined to speak her mind and get things off of her chest.

“Why the silent treatment for over a week? I thought–” Gabriella is abruptly cut off.

“You thought what? We had something special?” The sarcasm rolls easily off of his tongue. “It was nice…no, it was fucking great, but it really doesn’t change anything, does it? You’d been at my throat constantly, one night of passion doesn’t change much.”

“Jungkook, we cleared the air, agreed to let bygones be bygones…are you saying we didn’t?” Irritation radiates in her tone, but Gabriella remains as calm as reasonably possible.

“We were drinking, we were basically trapped together, things happened, but when I woke up the next morning…” Jungkook sighs deeply, “I mean, what do you want me to say? Should we just call it a mistake?.”

“A mistake? Transposing numbers in your address, that’s a mistake. Forgetting to add an ingredient to a recipe, that’s a mistake. Fucking someone the way you fucked me?! That’s not a mistake!”

“Was it that good?” Jungkook teases.

“Was it…Fuck you, Kook! Fuck you! Is everything a damn joke to you? I thought you were different, but I guess I was wrong!” Anger flows through her blood.

“I don’t understand why you’re getting mad! Did we decide that we’re now obligated to speak to each other because we fucked? No! You’ve been rude to me since I moved in, but now you think we’re besties? It happened, it was phenomenal, but I don’t get why you’re so angry.” Jungkook’s usual bright doe eyes become dim.

“I’m mad because…” She’s unable to find the words, unable to express how she really feels deep inside, not anger but hurt. “I opened my doors to you, even though you annoyed the shit out of me, I opened myself to you and now I feel trampled on.”

He sees the tears welling in her eyes, moving his gaze from her to the quiet street, “I’m sorry,” He replies as he stands and walks toward the door, “but that wasn't my intention.”

“Then what was your intention?” Her voice breaks, the emotions building within her on the brink of eruption.

With his back turned to her, hand on the storm door handle, he mumbles nearly incoherently, “I don’t know.” He walks into the house, closing the door in her face.

“MOTHERFUCKER!!!!” She screams inside, but her pride can’t let him know how weak he’s made her.

Gabriella is livid, she wants to smash his windows, take a sledgehammer to his fountain, but instead she trudges back to her house in pure defeat. He fooled her, he played the role he needed to that night to get in her pants, got what he wanted and now she’s just another notch on his belt.

She slams her door causing the entry table to rock and her treasured vase to fall and shatter to the floor. Her overwhelming emotions tip over the edge and the tears stream down her face. She feels used, stupid, unworthy and unwanted, all because of her annoying ass neighbor, Jungkook.

She’s about to grab the broom when there’s a knock at her door. She isn’t expecting any guests, but when she opens the door, she’s frozen with shock.

“Fuck! I don’t even know why I’m here!” Jungkook stands there winded and sweaty, wearing only a tank top, basketball shorts and slippers, “I just know that I’m sorry. I’m not sure how to do this relationship shit! You’re the first woman I’ve ever longed for, desired, the few others I’ve been with were nothing to me, just something to do, but you…you’re special.” The tears run down his rosy cheeks as he shivers from the cold. 

Gabriella quickly opens the door, “Come inside. Why would you come here dressed like that?” She ushers him to the fireplace and wraps the throw blanket around his shoulders.

“I just don’t want to get left behind by you, you’re older, you’ve experienced more in life that I haven’t yet. I don’t want you to get bored with my curiosity, my interests, with all of the things you’ve already done that I have yet to tap into.” He sobs. “I don’t want to be the forgotten child again. Isn’t that how you view me? The immature, annoying guy from next door?”

Gabriella smiles, “From the day I met you, I viewed you as a man. Yes, you did shit that drove me insane, but at the same time, deep down, it made me want to get to know you even more. Now that I’ve gotten a glimpse into you, the real you, I want more. I would never get bored with you, you keep me on my toes, keep me striving for more out of life, more out of you.”

Jungkook sniffles and wipes his face with his shirt, “Then where do we go from here?” He looks up at her with his large, brown doe eyes.

“I don’t know where we go from here, but wherever we go, let’s go together.”

[joonslfttiddie]

Home

Chapter 49: Completion...

💜Fic Pairing: OT7 x OFC

💜AU/Genre: Reverse Harem/Polyfidelity/Ghosts/AMBW

💜Warnings: Adult Language/Adult Content/Murder/Blood/Attack by stalker/Strangulation/Magik/Spells/Rituals

💜Rating: MA

💜Word Count: 4,280

Jin’s POV

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?! Noona! NOONA!”

“It’s okay, Jungkook...she’s okay,” I try to reassure him.

“She’s not moving. Is she breathing? HOW IS SHE OKAY?!” Hoseok is obviously in a panic, and understandably so.

“Hoseok, she is okay. She seems to just be resting. I’m sure she’s exhausted after exerting so much energy fighting against whatever that was,” I try to reassure the men who are all gathered around us on the floor. “Y’all, please try to stay calm. This isn’t the time to freak out. We still have work to do. Could someone grab the remaining incense on the counter and the palo santo sticks from that drawer?” I ask no one in particular and realize that I have information in mind that I shouldn’t. I know nothing about this stuff. Hell, I shouldn’t know where Tia keeps her things or each of these men by name, but I do. “Burn it and smudge each room, especially upstairs.”

“Smudge?”

I don’t consider that the guys don’t know much about this stuff either so I look up to Namjoon and say, “I’m sorry. Burn the tip until it produces a good amount of smoke, then blow out the flame. Allow the smoke to move around each room. Get in every corner and closet. Make sure to open windows up there, too.” He nods his head in understanding, then grabs the mentioned items and jogs out of the kitchen. “JK and Hobi, could you go help Namjoon, please?”

“But-,” Jungkook starts. I already know he prefers to stay here with Tia, but I need him and Hoseok to occupy themselves, to help keep them composed. I can’t imagine what they are going through mentally right now, but I feel the desire to somehow lessen their load and their stress.

“I have her; I promise. Go.” This seems to appease him and, reluctantly, he and Hoseok follow behind Namjoon.

“How are you so sure that she’s okay?” The man next to me, with his piercing eyes, stares into mine as if searching for the truth in them.

“Honestly, I’m not sure, Tae, but I just know. I’m noticing I know a lot that I shouldn’t right now. I’m only assuming Tia gave me this information somehow before she lost consciousness.”

“What do you mean? What information?” Yoongi is kneeling behind me, I’m assuming, looking at Tia over my shoulder.

“Well, I know all of your names. We didn’t get an opportunity for introductions yesterday with all that was happening and then having to go to the station. She instructed me on what to do about that spirit thing, directed me to where the salt was, and gave me the spell, word for word. Also, the directions for smudging the house. I didn’t know what that was until a few moments ago, like, I had no knowledge of it, then I suddenly did.”

“She is truly amazing,” Jimin says, coming to sit in front of me as I’m still seated on the floor with Tia between my legs, her body draped across my thigh. “What is burning the incense and wood going to do?” He leans over his criss-crossed legs to caress her face with the back of his fingers, and then he pinches her cheek tenderly. The love he has for her is obvious, beautiful, and pure, so much so it nearly brings tears to my eyes.

“Basically, it will cleanse the space and us of any negative or evil energies. It’s for our protection and to balance the energies in the house,” I share my newfound knowledge. “Opening the windows allows the negative energy to escape.”

Despite the situation, this is the most whole I’ve felt in my entire life. I feel safe, understood, and seen. I’ve been going through the motions in life, just doing what I felt was expected of me. But here, with them, I feel that I have a purpose. I feel wanted. Needed.

Yoongi, still behind me, says with a quivering voice, “You’ve saved her twice within 24 hours. I don’t know how we can ever repay you.”

“Well, Yoongi, I have a feeling that we’ll have plenty of time to repay him,” Jimin says as he continues to pet her and watch her sleeping face lovingly. 

I guess I wasn’t able to get a good look at him yesterday at the station, but now I can appreciate his ethereal features. He’s so beautiful, I catch myself staring as if attempting to sear every detail into my mind.

“What do you mean, Mini? Is that what this is?”

“What, what is?” I ask Yoongi without looking back but before he can answer, Tia begins to stir.

“Jagiya!”

“Oh my God…beautiful!”

“T, are you okay?”

We all worry over her, trying to make sure she’s not hurt. Before she can answer, Namjoon, Jungkook, and Hoseok return and rush to our side.

“Little!” Namjoon comes over, holding his arm wrapped in a colorful fabric.

“I’m okay,” she says as she sits up slowly as if not entirely sure of her own words herself. Then, she looks at me and smiles. At this moment, I would climb up to gather the stars from the sky for her if she asked me to. I melt inside and the familiar feeling I’ve been feeling since I approached the house earlier today intensifies.

“Jin,” she says excitedly and reaches out to cup my cheek. “How I’ve missed you, my love.”

My love?

Namjoon’s POV

I’m not sure why but I feel that I can put all of my trust in Jin, even though we’ve only just met yesterday. Under his direction, I grab the incense and palo santo sticks, then rush to the foyer to grab the matches I’d seen on the side table. Just as I’m trying to strike the match with shaky hands, I’m joined by Jungkook and Hoseok.

“Here. Let me do it for you,” Hoseok offers and I give him the box. His face looks distraught but his hands are steady enough to produce a flame and light the sticks. When smoke begins to swirl, he distributes the stems between us. He then heads into the living area and I go into the library, sweeping each room thoroughly before meeting Jungkook upstairs where we do the same in each of the spare bedrooms, bathrooms, closets, everywhere. We save our bedroom and bath for last and when I cross the threshold, there’s an immediate heaviness in the air. A thickness that makes me feel like I’m doing something I shouldn’t and will get caught any second now. Nevertheless, we move forward, wafting the fragrant cloud through the murky energy.

Finally, I make it to the far corner of the room to let up the first window, where I’m met with resistance. I’m literally having to push with all my might, noticeably more compared to the others in the other rooms. I eventually get it all the way up and move to the next one only for the first one to slam shut on its own.

“What the fuck?!”

Jungkook is just as floored as I am and rushes over to assist me by reopening and holding the first window. I open the third, the second slams shut, and I see that Jungkook is visibly straining to keep his window open. By this time, Hoseok comes out of the bathroom and rushes over to us and follows suit by opening and holding the second one; I hold the third. Whatever doesn’t want us doing this is strong as fuck, causing my muscles and veins to pop, showing through my skin.

“Shiiiiiiiiiit!” Jungkook yells, using every ounce of strength he has left. Just then, something heavy seems to shoulder check me hard, pushing me into the glass before crashing through itself, sending glass to shatter on the ground below along with pieces of wood and window trim. With my hand on the window sill, I catch myself before I can fall head first out the second story.

“Namjoon! Are you okay?”

The entity is gone, allowing the other men to leave their windows unmanned. Hoseok rushes to check me over, frantically taking in every inch of my skin that he can see. Jungkook does the same, touching and squeezing here and there.

“You good, bro?”

I am fine, that is until he checks my right shoulder. “Ah! Fuck, that hurts,” I let him know.

“Can you move it?” His expression mirrors the concern in his voice.

I try to raise my arm up, and I’m able to a little, but it hurts like a motherfucker. “Ah!”

“Joon,” Hoseok says in alarm.

“Damn. Okay, you can relax. It’s not broken but may be dislocated,” Jungkook informs us, then goes over to one of the nightstands, returning with one of Tia’s satin scarves. He creates a makeshift sling to take some of the strain off my shoulder, which helps a lot.

“Let’s get you to a doctor,” Hoseok announces.

“I will go later, I promise. I just need to make sure Tia is okay first.”

We hear raised voices coming from downstairs and rush down, hoping everyone is okay.

Jimin’s POV

I love the connection that we all share and that it’s so strong and pure, there is no mistaking when we feel it. At the station, as soon as Jin was within ten feet, the pull was undeniable. I couldn’t wait to get home and tell everyone but I haven’t had the chance to, only being able to share the news with Taehyung thus far. I’m assuming that everyone has noticed it now that things have settled down, and Tia just confirms it when she gazes at Jin lovingly, addressing him as ‘my love’.

“Beautiful, are you sure you’re fine?”

“Oh, Jimin, darlin’. I am right as rain, especially now,” Tia says. While I am happy that she is unharmed, I’m taken aback by her voice. And, ‘right as rain’? What the fuck does that even mean? I look at the guys, who all seem just as confused as I am.

Her eyes. They look…different.

When she looks at me, her usual chocolate brown eyes are now speckled with hints of honey and hazel. She stretches her arms above her head, then reaches up to Jungkook. “Well, Koo, don’t just stand there looking handsome. Help a lady up.”

Jungkook takes Tia’s hands, pulling her to her feet and into his chest and just holds her there for a moment. When he releases her, just far enough to look into her eyes which must have flickered back to normal. Jungkook doesn’t seem to notice, barely able to hold her eye contact. Maybe I’m just tweaking. I’m probably just stressed, these past two days have been quite eventful.

“Noona, I’m so sorry,” he says into her hair before kissing the top of her head. “I’m so sorry for how I acted earlier, for not wanting to listen to you. I was so angry, both at you and at myself, but more so because I couldn’t protect you. I would die if he’d taken you from me. Baby, I can’t live without you. I won’t. I should have been here for you.”

He kisses her passionately, eyes closed as one singular tear escapes to trail down his cheek. When he pulls away, releasing her lips, and opens his eyes, opening the dam that was containing the rest of his tears.

“Oh, JK,” her voice is raspy again as she wipes his face, her own tears threatening to fall. “I know that I upset you, I upset you all,” she looks around at the rest of us, “but I couldn’t tell you because things would have ended terribly. I saw it. I saw each of you hurt, killed, imprisoned…I couldn’t allow that to come to fruition, to see that again. I know you all are pissed, and I get it. But I don’t care. I rather have you all here, living, breathing, and mad, than any alternative.”

“Jagiya, you could have given us some type of heads up. Please, try to see it from our perspective,” Taehyung adds.

“Babe, I get what you’re saying, but I would die a million times if it meant you’d be safe,” I add.

“Tae. Jiminie. I hear you, but this may just be a topic we just have to agree to disagree on. If I were put in this situation again, I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again this way. Because if something happened to you guys,” her voice trails off, and the tears spring from her eyes.

“Tia,” Yoongi says, reaching out to take her hand.

Still squeezing his hand, she places it over her heart as the tears trail down her cheeks and continues, “Fuck safety, fuck everything. I wouldn’t want to live if you guys weren’t here. Period!”

“Okay, okay,” Jin chimes in. “I know that I shouldn’t even have a say, but to offer an objective viewpoint, you all are saying the same thing, just in different ways. It’s beautiful, really, that you all would risk your own lives to spare the other’s and that only hints at how deep your love is. There is no true resolution here so try focusing on that love and empathize with each other. I’m sure Tia saw her decision as the best option for the well-being of everyone and you guys would do anything to guarantee her safety.”

“That’s exactly right,” she agrees. “I knew that I would get hurt but I would live. And you all would live. I swear my intentions were just that.”

“We understand that, Little. Like Jin said, we just want to protect you. We don’t want to see you hurting or suffering,” Namjoon says. “But you played us. You played me, and I walked right into it, trusting you blindly, only to be put in a position where I couldn’t get to you in time. I couldn’t help you when you were literally being attacked in our own home. Don’t do this shit again! Don’t put yourself in harm's way to save us. That’s what we are here for; to keep YOU safe.”

“Joonie, what’s the point of being safe if I’m unhappy,” she says weakly. “I wouldn't want to live without you all.”

“Okay, guys. That’s enough,” Yoongi says. “I can see both sides of this but arguing about who’s right or wrong is pointless. Everyone has made their points and each one is valid.”

“I agree. Let’s just focus on what’s important. We are all here, blessed to see another day with each other,” Hoseok says, ending the spat.

We all stop, taking a breather so as not to allow tensions to rise any further, not wanting to risk saying something we can’t take back.

“What happened to your arm?” Jin looks over to Namjoon and my eyes follow to see his arm hanging in the fabric sling.

“Whatever that thing was, when we were forcing the windows open, it slammed his shoulder against the glass. Speaking of, Tae, we’re going to need another window repaired,” Jungkook says, describing the events that happened upstairs.

“Oh my God, baby, are you okay?” Tia reaches out to touch his shoulder, arm, and hand gently, caressing him with care.

“Yes, Little, I’m fine. It may just be dislocated. I’ll get it checked out in a little while, I just wanted to make sure you are okay before I go,” he says and leans down to kiss her forehead.

“That was him, wasn’t it? That darkness. It was Jason,” I ask.

“Yes, it was. I could see his deformed face in my mind’s eye, the way he looked after being shot. It was so gory and his smile…it was haunting. He was enjoying torturing us one last time.”

“Mind’s eye? Like, a vision?”

Jin is fitting in so well, I nearly forgot that he is unaware of what Tia is and the powers she wields.

“Yes. She has many supernatural abilities, including the ability to see visions of the past and future,” I summarize.

“Yea, and evidently, she can fly, too,” Taehyung teases, which seems to lighten the mood even more.

“Supernatural abilities? That is amazing. So, is that how I suddenly had the knowledge of things that I previously had no idea of?”

Tia turns to answer Jin.

“Yes. I was able to telecommunicate with you so that you could finish the job. I have communicated with the others as well, but this time, it had to be you,” she says with a twang in her voice.

“What does that mean?” Jin is just as clueless as we all are.

“Completion.”

While we are not quite sure what she’s trying to explain, there's comfort in the word. A feeling of finality has filled the house since Jin came. It has me wondering if he may be the last puzzle piece.

“Wait,” Yoongi says, holding his hands up. “Is no one going to address how her voice keeps changing? Even her accent is different.”

“Beautiful,” I grab her by her shoulders and pull her to face me so that I can look into her brown eyes. “You’re not alone in there, are you?”

“No,” she says with a smile, “I’m not. She’s here, too.”

“Who the fuck is ‘she’?” Yoongi questions Tia, obviously on edge.

“Well, it’s an honor to officially meet you, fine gentlemen,” she says as her eyes switch, letting me know that I’m not tripping. “My name is Tilly.” She looks around at all of us, then reaches for Yoongi. “Are you okay, Suga’? Why, you look more nervous than a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. I swear, I don’t bite.”

Her voice is now smooth as velvet and her southern drawl sounds sweet as honey.

“Tilly…Tilly…Tilly,” Yoongi says, seeming to search the database that is his memory. “That name sounds so familiar for some reason! Where have I heard that name?”

“Tia has filled me in and let me know that the energy in the house is so high and we’re all vibrating at a crazy frequency right now which is allowing us to witness things we usually can’t,” Jin mentions. “But you used to know Tilly very well. Much like you now know Tia. Is that right?” Tilly just smiles, validating his statement.

“Well, yes and no, hun,” Tilly corrects him. “Tia and I are connected in a mighty special way. My time here on earth was many moons ago, but God saw fit to reunite me with my loves. You see, their lives were taken much too soon and we all suffered at the hands of a Burton, just like y’all. Because of that, the males in that family were cursed, having to wear a scar, a mark to symbolize their transgressions and they never find true love in their lifetimes. My soul was reincarnated in Tia and my loves are within you, which is why you may have fragments of memories, information, and may even dream of things you’ve never seen or experienced. Whenever a little voice has tried to redirect you or keep you out of harm’s way, sometimes it was us. We have protected you your whole lives and in return we have been blessed with a second chance through y’all. I’ve been able to tag along with Tia since she was born and can now communicate with her and you like this because of her familial gifts. I’m so grateful, darlin’, for you allowing me to ride along and for allowing me to tell my story in hopes of explaining some of yours,” Tilly says, with her hand over her heart as if speaking inwardly.

“That explains what I saw earlier! I saw them, like, inside of you two,” Yoongi says, pointing at Hoseok and Jungkook. “It’s like we were moving in slow motion, trying to get to Tia, when I saw you guys split into two people. Like a twin, but I could feel that they weren’t you.”

“I saw it, too! My arm split when I was throwing the salt, just like you’re describing. Jason was glitching as well, but it didn’t look like a twin,” Jin recalls. “Was that his reincarnated version?”

“No, that was his great-great-grandpa, the man that murdered my guys. The anger and entitlement in them two was so strong. They were able to manifest that creature in an attempt to claim us, Tia and me.”

“Oh my God, that is horrible. What happened to them?” The empathy and genuine concern in Namjoon’s eyes is comforting, even for me. 

“Well, we were upstairs, asleep in this very house, when he came over here drunk as a skunk. It wasn’t uncommon for him and his flunkies to come by some nights, yelling and screaming profanities and racist remarks. They even vandalized our property and tried to antagonize the guys, but that night was different. Long story short, he threw a homemade bomb through the living room window and the fuel he used lit the house up like Sunday morning.”

“Wait! That’s what Tony did with that boulder,” Jungkook adds.

“Yep. It was the same window,” Tilly verified before continuing. “When the fire started, it all happened so fast and the house was engulfed before we knew it. We tried our best to escape but only I made it out. Jin was the one to push me out of the window to safety after realizing we all couldn’t get out in time,” she says with fat tears in her eyes as if she’s reliving that day all over again. She looks at him and says, “That’s why it had to be you to finish all this.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that all of that happened to you,” I say, feeling so sad for her. For them.

“Thank you, baby, but it ain’t nothing to sit down and holler about now. It is right sad, but what’s done is done. Plus, I’ve been able to reunite with my hunnies. We’ve been able to watch over y’all as you grew up, matured, and came back together, which has been an utter delight to see.” Her smile warms my heart and I find comfort in knowing they have been looking out for us. “Now that everyone is here, we can all go in peace. I reckon our work here is done for now. We don’t have much time before we’re called home to glory,” she says.

“No, you can’t go so soon. We’ve just gotten a chance to talk to you,” Hoseok says to her.

“Bless your sweet heart,” she says, now holding his hand. “But with my girl on your side, we won’t be too far away.”

We watch as she steps out of Tia’s body, wearing a tan dress with beige kitten heels, and her natural hair is twisted to the back with a side part like Tia wears sometimes. Now, seeing her individually, I can make out subtle differences between her and Tia besides her eye color, which I'm sure most are due to the evolution of fashion over the centuries, though she is still just as beautiful, inside and out. She begins to walk away, holding Tia’s hand until the last second until only their fingertips are touching. They are smiling at each other like two sisters, not saying ‘goodbye’, but ‘see you later’ to each other. 

Tilly walks through our huddle, stopping to embrace each of us along the way, and once on the other side she says, “Come on fellas, let’s hit the road.”

We all gasp loudly while watching our counterparts pull apart from us and, much like watching Tia and Tilly, I’m able to take in their true features. Looking at myself in awe, I notice his outfit and his hairstyle, and I must admit, I’m fly. Well, he’s fly. We’re fly? Whatever, but I would definitely rock this fit even today! I look around at everyone else’s partner, and I’m thoroughly entertained. I wouldn’t believe this shit if I wasn’t witnessing it with my own eyes. 

“You’ve worked hard, brother. Please know that we are always here watching over you all as your spirit guides. If you ever need us, just give us a holler.”  I can feel the weight of his hand when he rests it on my shoulder and then gives it an encouraging squeeze before he floats over to hug Tia. He makes his way around the group, as they all do, spreading love, genuine care, and motivating words.

Not gonna lie. I’m sad to see them all go and watch as they leave the kitchen with arms linked, holding hands, or arms draped across shoulders. We all curiously follow them and watch when they travel into the library, heading straight for the far wall. I’m trying not to blink, not wanting to miss a second and watch as they dematerialize, abandoning their physical forms for a lavender-looking billow of smoke. It moves to slip under the bottom shelf of the bookcase with Jungkook and Hoseok following close behind.

“There’s something under here,” Hoseok says.

The guys come back over to us, Hoseok with what looks like a small, lilac-dyed, leather-bound journal and Jungkook with photos. “Holy shit,” he says, looking down at the pictures and then handing them to Jin.

We all huddle around, trying to get a better look at what looks like Tia wearing a flower crown. Then a picture of all of us.

“Wait a minute, is this-,” Namjoon starts.

“-their wedding portrait!” Yoongi finishes.

“Wow, this is so wild! They look just like us and are all dressed so nicely for their special day,” Jin adds.

“We should frame these!”

“And hang them in here!”

Taehyung and Namjoon speak in unison as if sharing a brain cell.

“Damn, this is so beautiful,” I say. “We should recreate these if we decide to have a wedding one day.”

Tia’s scruffy voice has returned when she agrees with me and says,“Oh, Jiminie, I love that idea. We absolutely should!”

A/N:

Y’all…have you heard/seen the TikTok where a lady says, “What fucking lady?!” after someone has her believing that a ghost is in the room? That’s what I thought about when I wrote Yoongi’s reaction to Tilly 🤣 Special thanks to @yoongiobsessed for beta reading this chapter for me! 💜

[joonslfttiddie]

—immortal lust |myg|

🧛🏻 pairing: vampire!yoongi x vampire hunter!reader  🧛🏻 au/genre: vampire au, e2l, angst, smut  🧛🏻 rating: M  🧛🏻 wc: 8,783 🧛🏻 warnings: mentions of parent death (off-screen). creepy themes associated with graveyards, vampires, and vampire hunting. explicit smut: fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, implied bdsm, implied orgy, biting, blood drinking (vamps, duh!), use of blood for lubrication (again, vamps!) 🧛🏻 an: thank you to my beta readers @downbad4yoongi and @lo1k-diamonds and @mrsparkjimin18. I know this ws rough at first, but I think it became a very enjoyable piece of literature in the end. @colormepurplex2, thank you for the prompt to write, and congrats on earning the most points for the network in the semi-annual tally! You earned it! 🧛🏻 summary: In the shadows of a world where the supernatural breathes just beneath the surface of the mundane, you are a skilled vampire slayer from a revered family harboring a secret desire that contradicts your very existence. 

🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻

This story is written for @colormepurplex2 as her gift for being the top leading point earner for our network, @bangtanwritershq and for our Quarter 2 event: Seven Deadly Sins

ᥫ᭡ AU Type: Lust — Vampire AU ᥫ᭡ Themes: Enemies 2 Lovers & Forbidden Desires ᥫ᭡ Inclusions: Bargains & Contracts, Confessions and Secrets, Explicit Sexual Content, Blood & Violence 

masterlist ❁ ao3

24 Years Ago

“Why are you crying, Uncle Sol?” Eight-year-old you stands in the darkened doorway of the study, bleary eyes struggling to take in the scene in front of you.

Soleil Belmont sits in the overly stuffed, brown leather armchair in front of the fireplace. Your uncle by choice, thanks to the life-long friendship between him and your mother, Valkyrie Blake, is how he came to be in your life. The hands that cover his damp eyes wipe furiously at his cheeks, as if to hide the evidence of his tears from your sight. You didn’t even notice how he looked—the mud caked on his boots, the tattered look of his shirt under his leather jacket, the small cut by his hairline or the bruises starting to appear along his face. 

“Come here, sweetie,” he asks, voice breaking as you walk in your thin nightgown across the wood floors, feet making quiet sounds with every step you take closer to him. Once within his reach, he places a clammy hand on your shoulder.  

“There’s been an accident.”

The funeral itself was one of the worst days of your life, watching the twin caskets of your parents lower into the rectangular cutouts in the  earth. The gleaming black lacquered wood was polished to perfection, only to be marred by the small handful of dirt you’d thrown before begging to be taken away from the graveyard, away from the scent of death and decay. 

That day is when you decide you never want to experience death. You never want to be so badly injured in a car accident that your family has to have a closed casket. That you’d never see your child grow up, and leave her abandoned in this world. You hate that death is the inevitable end to life, and that fear leads you down the path you’re on now.

You - Present Day

The dream begins much like all of the other ones you’ve had as of late. You’re in an old cemetery—gothic gravestones coated in thick moss with flora obscuring the names and dates of the not-so-recently deceased. Large tombs with crumbling marble and ivy-covered wrought-iron fences, the overgrown oaks with Spanish moss reaching eerily towards your figure in the shadows from the waxing crescent moon. The dirt beneath your feet feels malleable as you step quietly past the final resting places of all of the former slayers. You’ve traversed these grounds before, more than several times in your adult life, as you’ve learned about your family, the work that they did—that you are supposed to continue—and can name all of the family lines that take their final rest here. 

An eerie fog begins to rise from the ground, permeating the air until it covers your boots and ankles, weaving its way along the marble and stone placards, hiding the Lord’s Prayer epitaphs and angelic motifs from sight. A shiver raises the hair along your arms and the back of your neck and you sense him. He’s here, watching you with his luminous eyes and heightened, immortal beauty. You know he can hear the way your heart thrums in your chest, can smell the prickles of adrenaline that drip from the sweat at your hairline, and possibly the arousal as it seeps through your panties.

You attempt to refocus your thoughts away from the nervous energy, standing still.  You wonder if he believes that you are doing this so as to not trip or step on dead wood littering the ground to make too much sound. You know it wouldn’t matter. Quiet as a mouse or trampling like an elephant would make no difference to this being. He is well over three centuries old, exact years he has been alive though are not documented anywhere. No one has lived after a close encounter with him to document his life pre-turning, according to the various journals and tomes housed in the slayer library. 

All you know for certain is that the earliest records of the vampire known only as ‘Yoongi’ appear in the late 17th century, identify his maker as ‘Namjoon’, and his three known fledglings as ‘Heizi’, ‘Taehyung’, and ‘Hoseok’. Only one of his creations is dead—the one who killed your parents. A loud crack of lightning whips your head to the left, the flash revealing the amber backlit eyes embedded in the dark silhouette of the famed vampire crouched on the edge of the cremation tomb several yards away. Your amygdala reacts, heart rate spiking as he moves faster than you can capture—one second he’s atop the Van Helsing columbarium, the next he’s standing in front of you, strong hands clamped to your arms holding you tight, keeping you from moving. Your small but deadly sharp stake is rendered useless by your side.

There’s no time to scream, no time to do anything but hear the rush of blood through your veins as his mouth grows from a smirk to a downright smile, fangs glowing from the reflection of moonlight.

“You made it too easy, kitten,” he purrs, bringing his face closer to yours before dipping his face into your neck. He takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent as he scrapes the tips of his pointed teeth across the sensitive skin of your neck. “And to think you were able to kill Heize. I must do better at training my progeny. Oh well, another slayer to add to the crypt. You didn’t even last two minutes.”

Squirming in his grip, you try to disengage his clenched fists from your arms as his mouth descends to your thrumming artery. You wake with a gasp, hands flying to your neck to check for puncture wounds. 

🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻

Down in the gym at the bottom floor of your house—if you can call it that—you push your muscles to their extent, fists flying into the punching bag. You whip around, grabbing the thin bladed stake from the side pocket of your athletic leggings and plunge it into the second bag made for staking. 

With a deep breath, you step onto the bag to pull your weapon loose, watching small bits of fluff flutter to the mat beneath you. Wiping the sweat from your brow, you check the time on the clock, noting it’s near lunchtime. Sheathing your weapon, you head up the staircase to sunlight. 

On the ground floor, your eyes easily slide past the neoclassical designs along the hallway, high ceilings with blank walls, and columns lining the open floor plan with large arched floor-to-ceiling windows. The protein shake you prepared earlier sits on the top shelf in the fridge, and you grab it along with the jelly to make yourself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. You’ve just finished when Soleil Belmont walks into the kitchen, a gentle squeeze to your shoulder as he bypasses you to the fridge.

“Can we talk?” he asks you, but you don’t want to argue with him, not when tonight could be the last time you ever talk to him. 

“Sol, I have to do this. You can’t change my mind about this. He sired the vampire that killed my mom and dad. He’s killed countless people for sport, leaving behind orphaned children like me.” You hope the finality in your tone will keep him from prying or asking more questions. 

It works.

“I love you. And I won’t try to change your mind. You’re much like your mother, stubborn to the very end.” Your mother’s best friend and your legal guardian until you turned 18 joins you at the table with a bowl of grapes, a look of acceptance in his eyes. “You know, if anything happens to you, I’m selling this house. It’s much too big for me and I’m getting older.”

Your eyes gaze across his features: the greying hair at the edges of his hairline, crow’s feet meeting the creases of his eyes, the weariness in the undereye circles and fine lines. He’s nearing 60, an age you don’t think you’ll live to see. An age your parents never got to be. At 32, you live on your family estate alone, with Soleil in the pool house you had renovated years ago as a Mother-in-Law suite once you turned 21 and gained your inheritance—and learned the truth about your parents’ death. 

Just as much as you probably could have lived without ever knowing the truth of your parents’ lives, and their demise, you didn’t need all the space he was trying to give you, but he wanted to allow you the chance to be an adult, have a social life and you assume a sex life without having to hear it. You appreciated it in the moments you brought men back from the bar or campus library, but other times, it was just…lonely. 

As a Belmont, Soleil knew about vampires. His family is well known across Europe for their work in Romania slaying creatures of the night, and Soleil’s great-grandparents moved here in the early 1800’s to spread their knowledge to others to continue hunting as the new world grew and vampires spread to the new continent. This is how your families came to be friends and fight alongside each other. Until Heize killed three of the four hunters tasked with taking her out, leaving you and Sol as the only survivors of the Belmont’s and the Blake’s. 

“I think you should. I only keep it because it has everything I need to train. I could practice in peace without worrying about people judging me for all of my weapons. Most people think it’s a little weird to have wooden stakes and crossbows when working out.”

Sol chuckles, making a joke about how between the gym being littered with staked bags and the UV lights that line the entire property at night, people would be confused when purchasing, but then the light leeches out of his eyes as he looks you over.

“Remember to keep your wits about you, okay? I never wanted kids because I knew that hunters' lives never end happily, and when I lost…we lost your parents and my fiancee, I wouldn’t have had a reason to keep living if it weren’t for you.”

You decide now is best to give him the ticket and the envelope.

“Sol, I think…I think it’s best for you to go away on a trip. I think I’ll be able to focus better knowing you are out of harm’s way if you leave.” You slide the ticket across the table towards him, the envelope underneath it. “It’s a one-way ticket to Paris and enough money to be comfortable for as long as you want.”

“You don’t think you’ll survive this, do you?” Sol asks, eyes searching yours for clues, but you remain steadfast.

“Don’t worry about me, Sol,” you say and he makes to interrupt you, but you don’t let him, dealing the killing blow. “I’m not your daughter, so you don’t have to stick around anymore. Go live your life. I want you to go and live your life.”

The hurt in Sol’s eyes is visible, but your plan works. His hand reaches out to grasp the ticket, leaving the envelope of money where it’s at. 

“I don’t need Blake money; the Belmont’s have enough of their own.” He takes a moment to pause, eyes locking back all emotions as he stands. “I’ll pack and leave town. Don’t be distracted.”

Soleil walks to the hallway, turning back just once. “Goodbye.”

🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻

The past 11 years seem to be coming to a head. You’ve spent all of your time after graduating from college training for today. Ever since you learned the truth of how your parents and Sol’s fiancee died, you’ve been plotting for this moment. 

As a member of the famed Blake family, vampire hunting is in your blood. As a child, you obsessed over vampires because of the ability to avoid dying, and as an adult, that obsession helped you with your training. You knew more about vampires than one would expect having been brought into the fold so late, but you put your head down and studied more, learning all you could from previous journals and occult texts to gain insight into the vampires with ties to the one called Min Yoongi. 

Several years ago you went out to avenge your parents, trapping Heize in a classic bait-and-switch. You didn’t think it would be so easy since she was estimated to be around 200 years, but she fell for it simply because Soleil was the only one she didn’t kill, and in her blood haze, she underestimated you. A simple ‘accidental’ dropping of a message from Sol that said where to meet, coupled with thoughts that you and Sol made sure to keep in your head to continue the ruse allowed Heize to willingly walk into the decrepit mausoleum that was booby-trapped with the thinnest of steel wiring criss-crossing the doorway several yards inside with you and Sol on the other side. 

In her haste to grab Soleil, she blurred—her speed too fast to stop her from splicing herself into pieces and effectively decapitating herself was a pleasure to watch. Grabbing the blow torches stashed in the room, her body quickly lit up with flames licking the marble walls as you made your exit. 

It’s been over 5 years since then, and every second since has been spent planning for tonight. 

Min Yoongi - Present Day

Laying in the coffin in his home, Yoongi awaits dusk. His body is antsy for the moment the sun is below the horizon; even in his slumber, he knows that you are out there waiting. For him. He’s followed your movements since the death of his fledgling, Heize, watching to see how this novice of a hunter could have overpowered one of his chosen flock. Imagine his surprise when it turns out that it was you—the last remaining survivor of the Blake family who knew nothing of vampires true existence until you were an adult. 

But over time, he realized as novice as you were, you were skilled. Your lithe movements and ability to track his kind was a novel experience for him to observe. You took down creatures of the night in preparation for what you expressed to your guardian as training for taking out him. Yoongi laughs to himself. 

He admits you’re smart, the plan you laid out is a good one, but you forgot to block your mind from thoughts of the plan several times, which allowed Yoongi to plan his counterattack. In the light of the midday sun, even from outside of his home, he sensed you as you approached and left a note. He could hear your heartbeat, hear the rustle of the paper as you placed it through the mail slot of the front door.

His eyes shot open the moment the sun fell below the horizon. Yoongi hated that he was not yet able to avoid the forced slumber that overtook his kind when the sun rose, nor that he was not averse yet to the fatigue that set in beforehand, warning him of the lack of time remaining to the night. Elder vampires, of which he’s only met two who had lived over a thousand years, were almost immortal. The ability to walk in the sun and thus are not affected by the need to sleep when it rises. Yoongi envies them, but he plans to join them one day. 

He flits to the main hallway, hand reaching for the note and taking in your handwriting in seconds. 

I know what you are. I want to be one of you. Please meet me tonight and turn me, or I will tell everyone vampires exist. 

An address is scrawled at the bottom of the note, but he doesn’t need it. He can follow the heady scent of you to wherever you are. Even in sleep, he sensed when you drew near and his subconscious couldn’t help reading the thoughts that lay in your mind. You truly thought this ruse would work? Hell, it would’ve worked on Heize, or his other fledglings, had they not known who you were. There is fear to be had with mortals knowing of their existence; vulnerability lay in the moments that the sun is out, and a house fire could destroy a whole flock in minutes if their kind is not careful. Yoongi cursed their inability to wake while the sun was out, and now that he knows you know where he resides, he must find a new place to live out his days. 

A glance at the old grandfather clock in the hallway shows him that the sun is now well and truly gone, allowing him to slip through the entrance of the home and out onto the sidewalk. He takes a deep breath, searching for your scent through the others that encompass the air around him; the grass along the road, the burnt rubber of tires in traffic, the lingering warmth of the sun before its descent, and then the faint smell of jasmine flowers after a fresh rainfall. You. 

Blurring into motion, Yoongi travels several miles towards the city, slowing once other scents begin to emerge. Thin crust pizzas covered in meat and cheese, overflowing trash and body odor, and a desperation that covers the city’s nightlife with a humming buzz. The fading jasmine keeps him moving, though now at a human pace as he approaches what appears to be a dance studio. The sign above the door confirms as much, and he’s not surprised that the glass door is unlocked despite the red and white closed sign hanging at eye-level for passersby. 

The floral scent grows tenfold, as if Yoongi has stepped into what he assumes your bedroom would smell like. There is a strange undercurrent that he isn’t used to associating with you, but he assumes it’s just lingering from the studio. As he walks past the lobby area, the shadows of the fake potted plants and the empty chairs intrigue him. Why you chose this place is beyond his comprehension, as a dance studio such as this one, owned by the Blake family—your family—for years, is in the middle of the city and one of the few places not related to the hidden career path of hunting. Unless you count using dance as a way to build agility for fighting those who cannot die, well at least not die easily. 

Yoongi’s cockiness as he meanders closer to the hallway towards the various dance rooms leaves him caught off guard when the sound of whirring behind him causes him to move unnaturally before going eerily still. The slightest misstep is only noticed by Yoongi, whose barely beating heart seems to pick up minutely—not that anyone living or dead would be able to tell. He chuckles at your meager attempt to lock him in; a motorized grate lowering across the lobby door and windows. 

His strength could easily rip the grate off of its frame, but this little game you’re playing is just too good to walk away from without seeing what you’ve planned with his own eyes. It only pops into his thoughts once he’s walked through the back studio where your scent is the strongest, that the grate lowering was not part of the plans his Mind Gift overheard from you. 

So it’s only to his own surprise when the undercurrent rises to an overwhelming level and he realizes what his hubris blocked out. The mirrored room before him is splashed floor to ceiling with blood. 

You - Present Day

With the scent of your blood so overwhelming to the centuries-old vampire, you watch from the corner of the room as he drifts towards the mirrors and closer to where you need him to be. Your fingertips itch on the small switchboard you hold, ready for your plan to unfold. He looks almost dazed, eyes unfocused as his fangs poke his bottom lip. He looks so different, from the way the journals make him out to be, in person he’s much more attractive, and you have to really focus to make sure you don’t miss your mark. 

When Yoongi enters the area you’ve marked off with tape, you release your hold on the button that allows two things to happen simultaneously: a set of low UV flashbang grenades are set off, the mirrored walls reflecting the blinding light with a cacophony of sounds to drown out any thoughts he might try to detect, and a 4x4 cage made of the thinnest wire springs into place trapping him within its confines. 

You watch him through your military-grade glasses, the lenses preventing the bright lights from disorienting you as his brilliant eyes shut against the danger they sense. He is a few centuries old, and you know that despite the direct hit of the UV light, which only lasts for a split second, the slight damage dealt to his skin heals seconds later. 

But your aim wasn’t to kill him. He laughs, a loud bellyful that sounds almost joyous until you flip the second switch, which sets the alkali metal aflame. His laugh is silenced almost immediately, a growl rumbling lowly in his throat. 

“What game are you playing at, little mortal?” His voice carries an edge, and you shiver with delight. You’re sure that it’s never been this easy to capture a vampire that is several centuries old, but sometimes the best laid plans are the most simple. You step forward from the corner you were in, no longer hidden as the flames light the room and you pull off the tinted lenses.

“I’m not playing any games at all.”

He glares at you, the slits of his eyes glowing an intense amber shade—an enhancement to what you predict were originally beautiful brown eyes—and you bravely take a step closer. 

“Then what, praytell, would you call this,” his hand waves gingerly towards the room around him, “smoke and mirrors set up you have me in?”

“I…I want to experience being bitten.”

This time, the vampire does laugh fully, his head thrown back exposing his fangs and the long lines of his neck from his sharp jaw. His milky white collar bones are barely exposed in his black, button-down, long-sleeved shirt.

“No hunter,” he spits the word as if spitting a foul taste from his mouth, “would willingly subject themselves to a bite, to risk becoming that which they hunt.” 

“I would.” Your answer rings with sincerity, at least to your own ears, and you hope that the vampire can see the longing in your eyes.

“What reason would I have to give in to this request? The promise that you’ll let me out of here before daylight comes to burn me into ash? That you’ll let me out of this fire prison you’ve created? Do I look like a fool, mortal?”

“I think you’re desperate enough to make sure tonight is not your last night on Earth, and you should know that you hold all of the cards.” You take a deep breath before sharing your deepest secret with the immortal being before you, your voice rushing with a frenzied speed. “I only learned of your existence once I was an adult. Before that, I prayed to whatever gods would listen to find a way to avoid the inevitable—to escape death. You know I grew up without parents, right?” 

Yoongi only stared at you, glowing embers following your every move.

“Of course you know. I killed your progeny for their murder once I knew the truth.”

He hissed at you then, fangs extended fully as his eyes deepened with rage. He looked as if he had half a mind to grip the flame-laden cage and come after you, but held back—barely. You wait, quietly assessing him as he reins in his anger, chest no longer rising and falling in unbidden anger.

“That was a death that I deserved, and your anger will not sway how I feel about it. But it also doesn’t change what I am requesting of you. I want you to bite me.”

Min Yoongi - Present Day

Min Yoongi doesn’t believe the predicament he’s currently in. A fool! He curses himself. A damned fool to walk right into the trap you laid out for him.

The flames entrapping his body are low, but still, the heat has him on edge. His search of your mind as you speak shows no pretense, but he remembers how easily you fooled him with your thoughts just earlier today. The scent of your blood sang to him, luring him deeper into the dance studio until his mind couldn’t handle the amount; it overwhelmed him just long enough for you to pounce. 

Now that the flames have had time to thrive, the smell of burning metal drowns out the worst of your scent, and he asks you questions to buy himself time to think. But he can’t understand you fully. Your actions and words do not align with what he knows of hunters, of what he knows of you from afar. To hear you earnestly wish for him to bite you, despite knowing how hard you trained to kill his fledgling, contradicts everything he thinks he knows about the prominent hunting families. 

And still, your request piques his interest. The calmness of your body belies no deceit, no racing heart or skittered words as you barter with him as if discussing what to have for breakfast with a partner. And he’s studied your body, unbeknownst to you. He’s watched as you brought home men to fuck, heard the way your body reacted to their attempts at pleasure, the way your nervous system changed when you lied about seeing them again. Has smelled your jasmine scent and can’t lie that he’s wanted a taste…if only to then rip your pretty throat out.

He realizes in that moment that you do not know fully and truly what it is you are asking for. There are mysteries yet hidden from the mortal world about vampires, about their bite and the effect it has on the living when not immediately drained. 

Yoongi grins, finally deciding to answer your request after long moments of thought. 

“I accept your demands, hunter. I shall bite you in exchange for sparing my life.”  

You - Present Day

Your heart beats loudly in your ears as you walk away from his gaze to shut the door to the dance studio. You take a few deep breaths before turning around to walk back towards the switchboard, where you activate another switch. 

A low hum reminiscent of fluorescent lights quietly fills the quiet of the room, to which Yoongi questions. 

“Another precaution?”

You glance at him over your shoulder with a smirk.

“Just my way of making sure that you stick to your end of the bargain. Should you harm me against my will, I have a way to activate those lights lining the room, which are high-powered UV lights, and not just the ones that last for a second.” You look back at the switchboard, finger searching for the one to shut off the fire and disengage the cage. “The only way out of here safely is with my blessing.”

“Afraid of me, hunter?” His query has you pause your movements.

“Afraid of you? No. You’re my best bet at getting what I want.”

Facing the vampire, you maintain eye contact as you grip the hemline of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head in as fluid a motion as you can to leave you in just a simple underwire t-shirt bra and your denim jeans—you assume his bite will still be messy, and walking out of here covered in blood seems like a sure way to attract police attention. Again, you see Yoongi take on that supernatural stillness that only creatures of the night can achieve. His eyes are like focused lasers on your body, and you feel a thrill as you reach behind you to release him. 

With unnatural speed, he blurs into your space, forcing you back towards the wall—a cold hand on your exposed hip and the other leaving a dent as it braces against the wall by your ear. 

“Any of my kind could’ve given you what you wanted. It need not be me,” he murmurs as his nose trails along your jawline seductively. But in the next moment, his fingers tighten into your skin as he growls. “So why strip and offer yourself to me?” 

You squirm in his grip, a sense of deja vu taking over as you remember the dream you had a couple of nights ago. “Because,” you gasp out, “you’re the oldest vampire I know in existence. Newer vampires have no control, killing almost immediately.” You arch in an attempt to create space off of the wall—you hate the way you feel trapped. You question whether you should have trusted your instincts about Yoongi. 

“Flattery will get you nowhere. Why would a hunter want to be bitten?” His hand leaves the wall to grab your chin. A chill sweeps down your body from the points of contact, sending goosebumps along your exposed skin. His eyes flash a luminous amber. “Tell the truth.”

Your mind feels hazy from his command, almost as if you’ve stepped outside of yourself to watch your mouth open. “I’ve always been fascinated by vampires,” your voice sounds dreamy, a wistful look upon your face, “ever since my parents died. I want to escape that fate, I want to master death.”

A low hum from Yoongi helps break the spell as his eyes ever so carefully appear to peel back the layers until he sees through to the real you. The little girl who cried at her parents funeral and vowed never to meet her maker. You sense when he makes his decision, his eyes growing lighter and his hand tilts your head to the side.

“There is much you do not know, and you know not truly what you ask for.” He inhales a breath he doesn’t need, and his voice changes, a different tone taking over. “But your body reacts—it longs for this, does it not?” he teases. “I can smell your lust, your desire.” He presses his body to yours, firm planes and muscle meeting your softer curves. You feel the closeness of his lips as they graze across yours.

A small whimper escapes your mouth. “Please,” you softly beg so your lips caress.

Yoongi’s tongue slips between your teeth in a kiss of seduction. There is no rush to his movements, only a controlled, steady pace as he meets your tongue with his. You feel his teeth prick your lip as his hand moves to cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer. There’s no sound, except for the hum of the device and your heavy breathing. Yoongi doesn’t need to breathe. 

You gasp for air when he trails featherlight kisses along your carotid artery, his hand sliding along your side and over your covered chest and onto your shoulder. Once there, he pushes your bra strap down and removes the fabric covering your breast, freeing it from the holster. His thumb circles the peak of your breast, taught from the friction. He must be enjoying the way he’s building the tension in your body, and you wonder if humans taste better to vampires when they’re aroused. 

You don’t get a chance to ask. The insertion of his fangs into your neck is nothing like your dreams. The prickle of pain as they lance open your skin fades almost instantly when you feel the first pull of your blood through your veins and into his mouth. 

You gasp, astonished as the euphoric feeling settles over you like a warm blanket and Yoongi’s arms wrap around you as he drinks from you in deep swallows. He’s taken in a few mouthfuls before he pulls away with a shudder that shakes his whole being. 

“Divine,” he whispers, blood trailing along the sides of his chin as his hands move to fully free you of your bra, then trail along your curves. The contact is exquisite, the coolness of his hands doing wonders for the flames licking underneath your skin. 

“More, touch me more, please,” you sigh, wanting nothing more than the creature who holds you in his arms. The feeling of him seems to burrow under your skin to the very depths of your soul as if he’s leaving a permanent stamp embedded. 

His deft fingers cup your breast, causing you to moan with barely any movement. “Not enough!” you whine, uncaring at your petulance. Yoongi chuckles at you. 

“Where do you want me to touch you, kitten? How do you want me to touch you? Under your jeans? Gentle or rough? Perhaps you want much more than that?”

You blink coquettishly, nodding yes and begging him to take more of your blood from you. Your hands reach for him, fingertips pulling at the edge of his clothes as if to free him of them. You’re rewarded with his alabaster skin, the light dusting of hair below his navel leading into the very pants your fingers fiddle with the button on. 

His tongue laps at your heaving chest, and you watch as he cleans away the blood that ran from the bite he left. His fingers tug at your nipples, and you give up tugging at his pants as the sensation causes your head to fall back in a breathy whine. Your fingers have worked efficiently enough though—his pants fall to the floor and he kicks them aside to join the growing pile of clothes, and you add your jeans next in haste. 

Another mewling sound leaves you when his tongue toys with your pert nipple, fangs scraping along the soft contours of your breast as he chases the last of your blood. When you feel your back hit a mirrored wall behind you, you welcome the cooling feel of the glass, though unsure of when you moved. Yoongi’s leg pries apart your thighs, hand dropping to the heat between as he presses against your still-clothed core in search of your clit. When his fingers push your panties aside and he begins to rub slippery circles against you, he chuckles lowly. 

“How wet you are, indeed, pet. Yes, I think you want much more than just my bite.”

In your own mind, you agree with his words. You want so much more than just his bite because you want all of him—his bite, his touch, his cock filling you over and over as you crest in shuddering waves of insurmountable pleasure—for all of eternity. His lips drag along your neck as he speaks, leaving small kisses between his sentences. His fingers dance along your slick opening, teasing but never broaching. Not in the ways you want him to fill you. 

He hikes up one of your legs so that it rests on his forearm, opening you up to him and at the same time that he plunges his fingers into you, he returns his mouth to your skin, placing a bite in the swell of your breast and drinking deeply. Your body thrums, blood pulsing slower to be in sync with Yoongi’s at every swallow of your life force. 

You’ve never felt this way—no one has ever finger fucked you like this, and through the roaring of your blood in your veins, you distantly hear your own voice begging him for more. The heel of his hand makes contact with your clit, and you keen when he holds the position, fingers deep inside you to rub against the spongy patch of nerves as his wrist makes circular movements to stimulate your clit. Your hands work at the buttons along his shirt, pulling with haste and faintly recognizing the ping of the buttons as they ricochet free. Shoving the cloth off his shoulders, you’re exposed to delicate collarbones, a lean torso with blush nipples and a toned chest that tapers into a narrow waist. A small smattering of unruly black hair leads a path down the center into the briefs low on his hips.

You see starbursts behind your eyes as you cum, hard, walls fluttering rapidly around his long fingers. The air in the room is thick with need, desire running so deeply in your veins that you feel lightheaded. All you want is more, more, more. It’s not enough that he bit you, not enough that he brought you to ecstasy with just his fingers. You crave everything he has to give you. As if not of your own volition, you rock against the fingers still inside you, hands reaching to pull Yoongi’s face back towards yours. 

Fingers twine with the hair at the nape of his neck, and with reckless abandon, you kiss him hard. The metallic taste of your blood mixes with a taste all his own and you relish the way the two mix into a delightful cocktail on your tongue. His fingers thrust shallowly into you as he slowly makes to remove them from your body. Your hips cant towards him, chasing the feeling until he drops your leg from his arm and you’re left empty and wanting. 

The hollowness he’s left you with makes you want to cry, but when you try to pull away from the kiss and complain, he chuckles against your lips. “Hush, kitten, we’re just getting started.”

It seems like an eternity that he’s abandoned your pleasure, but with his supernatural strength, it takes mere seconds for his hands to rip your panties from your body, rid himself of his remaining clothes, bend his knees for access to hook his elbows around the backs of your knees, and lift you up. Your back slams into the glass mirror, and you feel the way it shatters around your body, but you feel no pain. Not when the new position has your core exposed to him and his velvet, steel cock is positioned at your entrance, teasing you with what’s to come. 

The view of him between your thighs is amazing. Your eyes trail down his body, showing no shame as you rest them upon his cock, a blushing hue color fueled from your blood now pumping in his body. It’s erect, his lust for you is apparent as he flexes his hips. The tip sinks inside you with help from your first orgasm lubricating his entry, but he doesn’t let it get far before pulling back. He edges you with languid pumps, and you watch in anguish each time he retreats from your warmth. His cock glistens farther up each time he dips inside of you, and the unhinged, sex-craved and cock thirsty being inside you wants him covered in you, the smell of sex so overwhelming that people on the street can smell it. 

“Oh, yes, kitten, everyone will know all of the depraved and debaucherous things I’m going to do to you.” He thrusts in with one fluid movement, and you swear you feel him in your chest. The fullness his girth offers splits you open like you’ve never experienced before, while his length reaches deep inside you. 

A glance at Yoongi's face as he takes in your naked body proves that he too feels the snug way he fits inside of you, and is also expecting to see the bulge from the tip of his glorious cock pressing against your skin. A flash of disappointment when it doesn’t happen flits across his face, and you realize he was not joking about the depraved things he wants to do to you. 

A press of his palm to your lower abdomen has your mouth open in silent pleasure as his hips swirl delectably; the pressure provides the perfect grind of his flexing muscle against every part of you that squeezes him, and the sound as he slips through you just to thrust in again only makes your lust rage more. It’s sinful, everything about the way he’s fucking you roughly is. 

Gasping out sensual curses mixed with your name, Yoongi’s eyes flash an intense color, and as if reading your deepest thoughts, he pulls out of you and shifts away from the pane of shattered glass to one still intact. He flips you so that your breasts press to the mirrors. His fingers dig into your hips as he pulls them backward, his feet nudging your own apart. You brace yourself with your hands on the glass, breath leaving a hazy fog with each shuddering exhale of air as you find reprieve from the fire beneath your skin with a pressed cheek to the reflective wall. 

“Fuck…me…” you moan out the curse when he seats himself fully inside of you, his pelvis pressed tightly against your ass cheeks as he lets out a low, throaty growl. 

“I thought I was,” he replies smartly, but the shake to his voice shows how much restraint he’s showing. You press your ass into him as much as you can, rising onto your toes for leverage. Your eyes stare at his reflection behind you, watching as he curls his body around yours to lick at your earlobe. “I had plans of killing you, dreamt of the way I would torture you before I snapped this pretty little neck of yours, did you know?”

You didn’t know for certain, but you feel like all creatures of the night have the goal of killing humans one way or another, so it doesn’t really bother you. In fact, his words make you clench around him, because the way he’s worded it seems like these are no longer his plans. He confirms as much as his hips rock back and forth in a teasing rhythm that barely sates your needs for him. 

“I’ve decided that this pussy is just too good to go to waste, kitten.” His head drops into the crux of your neck, breathing deeply. “Your sweet blood calls to me, and will taste even more decadent when you cum around my cock,” his tongue swipes over your skin before his fangs burrow into you with such an all-consuming lust, you nearly sob with how good it feels. His hips begin a punishing pace as he wraps his arms around you, one hand going to hold your right breast as the other hand drops between your thighs. 

The pads of his first two fingertips slip around his thrusting cock, stimulating your weeping core before moving back up to strum along your clit, matching pace with each press inside of you. “You will make such a lovely creature, don’t you think? Cum for me, kitten, and I will make sure of it.” His words trigger a deep need inside you, words that soothe an ache you’ve carried since you were a child. 

Your orgasm bursts from you in an earth-shattering explosion, so heady and rippling that you fear you will black out from the strength of it. You barely feel when his teeth sink into you again. He takes a deep pull from your artery, and your high gives him exactly what you think he was searching for. It’s almost shameful the way he moans against your skin as he drinks you in, but you’re so lost to his thrall that it only makes your desire for him deeper. 

His thrusts stutter until he is no longer able to hold back, and he fills you as he rips his fangs from you. His head is thrown back as he growls through his ecstasy, and you blink slowly at his reflection, eyes tracing the veins in his neck now running red with your blood trailing from his mouth. 

With more restraint than you thought he had left, he turns to you and you feel a fog take over as he asks you a series of questions about getting out of this room safely. You answer them each methodically, as if you have no control over your words. 

You feel yourself growing more and more tired, watching every few seconds when your eyes decide to open again from each blink, bleary-eyed as Yoongi dismantles the failsafes you put in place should things go wrong. Your chest aches for him, wanting him closer to you, touching you, drinking from you. 

“Soon, 달달한 피.” He kneels before you, dressed once again, hiding his body from you. You hate it. “It’s time for us to go somewhere safe.”

He pulls you into his arms and you preen, if you could purr, your chest would be rumbling in the pleasure of the feel of him. Your head rests on his shoulder and you try to stay awake; some part of you wants to pay attention to where you’re going, but blood loss wins as you sink into a deep slumber. 

Yoongi - Several Days Later

Pain. 

Your body thrashes with pain as the blood you just consumed spreads throughout your system. The last few days after leaving the ballet studio and entering Yoongi’s…home, for lack of a better word, has been full of the most exquisite satisfaction your body has ever experienced. You told him as much each night since arriving.

He’s reveled in giving into his most debased fantasies, and your body is covered in the proof; bruises littering your skin, chafing around your wrists and ankles, blood staining the rug beneath his feet where he now stands, watching you. 

Yoongi hasn’t turned a mortal in almost 200 years—not since he turned the one you killed. You make a better replacement for her in many ways, he thinks. Your beauty, your mind, your 달달한 피, or sweet blood, which he can’t wait to taste once you’re resurrected. And because this is the longest he has gone since bestowing the Dark Gift upon a being, not to mention that he is closer to 400 years than he likes to admit, he is sure you will be powerful beyond belief. 

He heals his wrist and glances at the time; he chose to turn you at sunset so he had time to prepare before he needs to rest. The marble walls that surround the underground basement bedroom of Yoongi’s home echo with your sounds of pain, so Yoongi leaves you in the bed as he ventures towards another wing. He knows that when the sun sets again, you shall be ravenous, and he needs the help of his brothers to bring in enough sustenance for when you wake. 

His maker, Namjoon, lounges in his study with a beautiful woman straddling his hips. Her skin tone is darker than his, and their coloring makes a beautiful picture of caramel and chocolate swirls. She is draped over him, arms wrapped around Namjoon’s neck as she bucks her hips slowly against him, no doubt riding his cock now for several hours. Yoongi doesn’t hesitate to enter and approach him; he’s used to such displays.

Namjoon licks his lips as he pulls his mouth from her neck, and then smiles up at Yoongi from his couch. 

“Well done, enthralling the last of that hunter family. One less family we need to worry about.”

Yoongi focuses on Namjoon’s face, trying to ignore the whimpering moans from the woman getting off in front of him. It’s making his own cock stir, and he’s tempted to join in, but then he wouldn’t have time to gather the blood you need. He indulges for a few moments longer though, watching the way her supple breasts press against Namjoon’s firm chest as she kisses along his neck. 

“You can join, brother. Would you like her mouth or her ass?”

Yoongi shakes his head but continues to enjoy watching the beautiful woman as she rides his maker. He’s tented in his jeans, but that’s also a normal occurrence for all of the men living here, since you can always find someone having sex at any moment. 

“I wanted to let you know that I will be inviting a few mortals over. I plan to head out with the others and gather a few.”

Glee arises on Namjoon’s face. “You’ve given her your blood, brother? Oh, this is brilliant. Another one to add to our flock! We haven’t had anyone else in years.” He sighs out in content and then murmurs something into the woman’s ear which has her shuddering. He sinks his fangs into her to enjoy her orgasm before turning back to Yoongi. 

“I can’t wait to meet your newest fledgling, Yoongi. I must know though…will you be possessive or is she one we all can share?”

Yoongi smiles, his fangs poking into his bottom lip as he grins at his maker over the shoulder of the woman who is now leaning away, head thrown back as she bounces on Namjoon’s cock with a fierceness of someone chasing a fourth or fifth orgasm.

“I think she may be open to sharing, brother, she should awake tomorrow at sunset.”

Yoongi turns away with a chuckle as he heads to find any of the other five of their flock to accompany him to the bar.  

You - The Next Sunset      

It’s disorienting how clear everything looks to you. You gasp as a hunger you’ve never felt before takes you into its grip and takes over your mind. Lurching out of the bed you’ve been fucked in every which way since arriving, you clutch at your neck. The hunger burns. 

“Come here, kitten, I’ve got what you need right here.”

You turn to the voice, and a bright splash of scarlet comes into view. You don’t even think about it, you just bring it to your mouth and drink messily. You latch on and slurp down as much as you can, wanting every last drop to sate the intensity, but the voice tugs you away. You feel anger but then you’re given another warm mouthful of scarlet and indulge gluttonously. 

This time, when the voice calls to you, there is no anger, only a need to follow, to go to the voice and await more from it. From him. Yoongi. Your memories flood you all at once, a pulsing thrum as your pussy throbs now that the blood from the drowsy humans is in your veins, and you search for him. 

When you find him, you stumble up from your knees away from the bodies and throw yourself into his arms. You realize you’re still naked when he maneuvers your body so that your thighs are on either side of his, bulge from his jeans rubbing your core from the friction. Leaning into you he kisses you languidly, tongue cleaning up some of the mess you left behind before swirling with your tongue to share the taste of the humans in a kiss. 

Your hips grind against him, the kiss turning sexual in moments and Yoongi growls in response to your libido, now heightened after death. 

“Fuck,” he groans as you unzip his jeans and reverently pull his cock from his boxers, and using a combination of the blood dripping on your chest and your spit, begin to stroke him with firm movements.  

Moments later you return to your first position, straddling Yoongi as you sink onto him repeatedly, one hand gripping your ass and the other in your hair, keeping your mouth on his. 

‘Just like that, beautiful, he likes when his cock is buried deep inside a pretty girl.’

You gasp as you hear a melodic voice in your head, turning your head behind you to see six men watching you take Yoongi’s cock as his lips trail down your neck and chest.

You cock an eyebrow at the men, all so beautiful, you could cry at their jaw lines and angles, broad shoulders and dilated eyes. 

“Yoongi, I didn’t realize you liked an audience,” you tease as you slow your movements and put on a show, pushing Yoongi’s shoulders down to the mattress so that when your chests meet, the view of how well you take him, how well he splits you open as you sink down and envelop him to the hilt, is visible to all of them. 

“I like an audience, kitten, and sometimes I like when the audience joins in.” The look he’s giving you as you continue to ride him lets you know the question he’s asking you. 

“With this new immortal lust of mine, I think I’d like that too.”

Sealing your decision with a bite to Yoongi’s neck, you take a deep pull as you feel the bed dip with the weight of the others joining you for what you hope will be the height of immortal lust that will last an eternity.  

The END

달달한 피 (daldalhan pi)- “sweet blood”

↣ all rights reserved © hisunshiine 2024. please do not repost. translations & modifications are not allowed.

[joonslfttiddie]

Home

Chapter 48: Split...

💜Fic Pairing: OT7 x OFC

💜AU/Genre: Reverse Harem/Polyfidelity/Ghosts/AMBW/Supernatural

💜Warnings: Adult Language/Adult Content/Murder/Blood/Attack by stalker/Strangulation/Magik/Spells/Rituals/Evil Spirit

💜Rating: MA

💜Word Count: 3, 812

Chapter 48

⚠️⚠️⚠️WARNING⚠️⚠️⚠️ 

If you scare easily or are uneasy with the idea of supernatural events and blood, you may want to consider skipping this chapter.

Okay, love you, byyyyye!

When the group wakes up the next morning, it is apparent that no one slept well, if at all. Even after being completely drained, mentally and physically, sleep did not visit any of them for long. The last thing Tia remembers is laying down to rest her eye on top of the covers, not even realizing she’d not taken her bath to completely rid herself of the darkness that is the Burtons. Waking up with the sun beaming through the windows is bittersweet because she knows that the guys, even though they were upset, took time to still handle her with care by tucking her in. The bitter part is that she sits up in a completely empty bed.

Where are they? 

She can hear mumbles of good mornings, filled with resentment, being exchanged as the men walk past the door to make their way to the stairs to disperse to do their own things. Well, I guess I’ll just have to be satisfied with their mumbled greetings. No one is mentally capable to even begin to discuss the events of yesterday. Tensions are so high in the house and everyone in their own heads and not taking the time to even look up that they don’t notice how washed out Tia looks. Her caramel complexion has taken more of a grayish hue and is looking casket ready.

Tia’s POV

It’s a struggle to get downstairs, but I finally make it to the kitchen and I try to prepare a mug of the already prepared coffee. I need something to wake me up. I need energy. Yes, I’m tired being that I didn’t sleep well, anxious about things between the guys and thinking about the man that saved me, but I also feel off. Something is not right as my body feels weak and my mouth is warm and super watery. I feel like I’m going to vomit and think that I may feel better after having a drink.

Maybe you should have water instead of coffee today.

I ignore the sudden thought and when I pick the mug up to take a sip of the brew, it doesn’t make it to my lips when my hands go limp, and the mug crashes against the kitchen floor. Everyone is outside or in the pool house, leaving only myself and whomever the fuck seems to be within to handle this.

Fuck. Don’t pass out. I can’t pass out.

Deciding against trying to pick up the fragments of the cup, I grab the mop I used the previous night to at least try to sop up the liquid from the floor. When my hand touches the mop handle, my mouth begins to speak that same spell from before, but it’s not my doing. I’m just trying my best to not pass out and the words are flowing from me effortlessly. Even my thoughts, hell, even my voice doesn’t sound the same as the words being spoken. I feel like someone or something is stowed away, catching a ride within my body.

My mind is racing, nearly in a panic, trying not to lose consciousness while my mouth is still speaking incantations and banishments. I wasn’t sure before, but now I know for sure that this is someone else, an unknown passenger. Counterclockwise strokes of my mop meticulously chasing behind the streaks of coffee on the floor, just like I had done to the footprints. 

Did I miss some of the prints? Did I not do it correctly? What is happening?

“Spirit guides, ancestors far and near,

Remove all spirits who don’t belong here.

Ancestors and descendants of the Burton family,

All further attempts to harm will evade me.

No evil to them shall I render,

But their tricks of wickedness, return to sender.

All versions of evil and harm, I banish thee,

As I will it, so mote it be!”

My companion repeats their spell with more fierceness and vigor each time. I find that I’m able to focus more on dispelling the energy and hold on to my awareness if I concentrate on her voice. The hoarseness of my own voice is no longer heard, but the sweet, southern twang of hers sings through the space. The coolness of the breeze from the still open kitchen window plays through the room, unaware of the direness of my current situation, and swirls through my hair and prances along the hem of my shirt. It feels nice, running up the trail of sweat along my back. I welcome it, a delightful distraction that seems to provide a lightness, my heavy limbs now more relaxed. I feel weightless.

Once all of the spill and the shards of the cup are moped to the side, I notice that I’m obviously still not feeling well as I’m dizzy and things look off. 

Is this what an out-of-body experience looks like? 

I find that I have cleaned myself all the way to the edge of the kitchen and the living room. I’m at ease and this feels like the end of whatever trance I was under, but my mouth is still speaking, better yet, yelling the words to the spell. The breeze is noticeably stronger, causing my clothes to flap against my skin and my hair to thrash violently across my face. The basement door opens and the wind causes it to slam hard against the wall, revealing Yoongi, Hoseok, and Jungkook, both with stunned expressions. 

The smile that adorns my lips is one of pure love and happiness as I’m in need of their comfort. Their expressions, however, do not mirror mine, each wearing looks of concern, perturbation, and astonishment. Are they still that pissed with me?! What’s with those faces? As they are frantically making their way to me, it’s as if they start to move in slow motion like they are running underwater as their clothes and hair flutter and wave slowly. Admittedly, I am confused but also amused, having never seen anything like this before. I chuckle lightly to myself until my eyes begin playing more tricks on me. I’m starting to see double, each man seemingly glitching, splitting from their heads down to their torsos to show a different version of themselves. Just as quickly as I notice it, the alternate snaps back to be hidden within.

What the fuck was that?!

I blink my eyes, squeezing them tightly before opening them again, trying to adjust my vision but it’s no use. It keeps happening! Yoongi is on the left side when I see his other version split away again. His companion is definitely Yoongi, wearing the same concerned expression but he’s not him. He looks older, not in age, but in time, if that even makes sense. Old fashioned. Jungkook is in the middle with Hoseok dodging one of the dining chairs to fall in line behind him, both men malfunctioning to reveal their other selves.

Only when the mop handle slips out of my hand and crashes onto the floor do I realize that I’m levitating, hovering inches away from the ceiling, which would explain my current viewpoint. Even with my fear of heights, dangling at nearly 10 feet in the air has no effect on me. It’s not until I see Jason; better yet, I feel him and see the dark figure reaching up to me from under my feet. His face appears in my mind, the sinister expression is obvious even with a quarter of his head blown away, and the remaining eye glows red like the footprints I cleaned last night. Blood drips heavily down his face to run down the white teeth of his diabolical smile. I feel that he’s not alone and his head shudders violently, showing a completely different man. There are similarities, like missing their left eyes, but that’s not him; not like it is when I look at my loves. I try to scream but nothing comes out, the chant still flying from my lungs.

Jimin’s POV

I feel so much better after talking to Taehyung yesterday, a comfort that I’ve not felt from anyone other than Tia covers me like a cozy blanket. Thinking of Tia, Taehyung, and the stranger who saved Tia, I hang my towel on a nearby hook and hop in the shower. My mind wanders from what our family meeting may look like, to the possibilities of our future with the nameless hero, to regretting not holding Tia this morning. I wanted to pull her in, to hold her close but my pride wouldn’t allow me to. I then think back to the conversation I just had with Tae, leaning against his sturdy frame and the smell of him. My fingers trail down my skin, chasing the streams of water to find my penis, fully erect and bouncing, tapping lightly on my stomach.

What the fuck am I doing? I shouldn’t be feeling this way…not now.

I begin to caress myself, daydreaming about burrowing deep into Tia’s sweetness while Taehyung’s chocolatey voice, rich, smooth, and creamy melts down my spine. I imagine myself following his command as he uses me as a puppet to make love to Tia. 

“Just like that, Jiminie. Long…slow…and deep,” he instructs, the warmth of his breath on the shell of my ear. “Look at her pretty face, completely fucked out of her mind because of you.”

I can’t suppress the whimpers that escape me when his arms creep around my torso, pulling me tight against his chest. My body is already beginning to jerk as my muscles spasm from the immense amount of pleasure.

“Good job, Mini. Look down. Look at how your fat dick stretches her pretty pussy. All that sweet cream she’s making, all the beautiful sounds are all for you,” he praises me in between the warm, open-mouth kisses he’s placing on my nape. The light suction he creates when he detaches his mouth, along with the way he just barely grazes my skin with his tongue, is driving me insane. With my brows furrowed, I can’t help but trap my bottom lip between my teeth as I continue to pump into my hand, imagining it’s Tia.

“Oh my God,” I hiss through clenched teeth, biting harder on my lip.

“Does it feel good, Mini? You look so fucking amazing,” Taehyung says, trailing his hand up to fondle my nipples, his touch feather-light.

“Hmmm,” I moan as I’m nearing my climax.

“Are you ready to show me how hard you can cum for me,” he says, his voice seeming to fall a few octaves. The vibration from his chest against my back and the warm kisses he trails over to my shoulder pushes me over the edge, and I begin to pump my hand up and down my shaft even faster with the imagery of Tia’s breasts bouncing each time my fist makes contact with my pelvis.

“Fuck!”

I cum long and hard, squirting my seed along to float on the steam of water and down the drain. I give my member a few more slow, lazy strokes while still coming down from my high, panting heavily while still holding my dick in my hand. As my mind is returning to reality, I notice the arms that are still encasing my body. There is also a warmth against my ass, hard and fitting snugly between my cheeks.

“Do you feel better after getting that out?”

Yoongi’s POV

The exhaustion is starting to catch up to me as I’m trying my best to pump my legs, trying to run as fast as I can. It’s like trying to move through cold grits, and I’m going nowhere fast, that’s for sure. I’ve never experienced anything like this in my entire life, looking up at Tia and then at the dark figure under her feet. Her angelic appearance in contrast to the sinister figure, is like heaven and hell right before my eyes. I can’t even take time to be afraid of whatever the fuck that is; more concerned with trying to help my baby. I know she mentioned that she was coming into her powers, but I never would have guessed levitation to be one of them.

My heart is pounding so hard I can hear my blood whooshing in my ears. I must really be tired because it seems like I’m missing fragments of time, my vision going in and out. I’m thinking it may be some type of residual power in the room coming from Tia or that thing. When I glance over to Jungkook and Hoseok, their appearance is telling and lets me know that they are struggling just as much as I am, and they are going so slow. I don’t know what’s wrong with my eyes because I notice the two men split partially into four! What in the entire fuck is going on?!

We finally start to circle the island and I’m able to get a good look at the dark mass. It is dividing just like Hoseok and Jungkook! I can feel its desperation like the words Tia is screaming is causing him panic.

Why does she sound like that?

Another POV

“Good morning. Namjoon, right?”

“Hey… yea. What’s up, man?” He allows his tool to fall to the ground, brushes his hands clean on his pants, and then shakes my free hand; the other hand holds a bag full of food for everyone as they were unable to have my food yesterday which was ruined. “Things got crazy yesterday so I wasn’t able to thank you for what you did for Tia. For us.”

“No problem…no problem at all. I just did what anyone else would have. I don’t usually carry my weapon on me, but something told me to bring it yesterday. I’m glad I did.”

“Damn. Well, I’m so glad you did, too! Lord knows what would have happened had you not been here and prepared. I owe you my life, bro,” he says with his voice cracking. His eyes look like he has been crying and is about to start again.

I’m not sure why but I take him into my arms, wanting nothing more than to take the hurt away. I’m standing here, embracing a grown-ass man, and his large frame leans against me with his head on my shoulder. I just want to protect him from the world. I just want to love him. 

“Don’t cry, it’s okay now. It’s all over,” I try to reassure him as he sobs into my jacket. “It’s all over.”

I’m confused, not knowing what this feeling is or what it means, but I allow it and continue to hold him until he composes himself, wiping his face on the inside of the neck of his t-shirt.

“I’m sorry,” he says with a chuckle. His face is now a pretty shade of pink.

“No worries at all. Yesterday was traumatic for all of us. There are some things people should never have to witness. How is she? How is Tia?” I say as the sweetness of her name falls comfortably from my lips. It feels like I must have spoken her name for a lifetime before.

He takes a few deep breaths and looks up to the heavens in an attempt to stop the tears from falling. “Ahem,” he says, then looks at me again with tears resting along his lash line. “See for yourself. Go ahead inside. I’m sure she will be so excited to meet the man who saved her life.”

“How long have you been out here? You’re not coming in?” I ask these questions as I’m looking around the yard. The lawn looks perfect so I’m unsure as to what he needs to do now. Shaking his head, he informs me that he's just finishing up some things he didn’t finish last night and would be right behind me.

He gives me the door code and I make my way down the driveway to the door. So, it’s obviously not just me that feels this pull, this connection, as if I belong here. I belong with them. I tried before, but I can’t deny the pull that I feel towards this house and the people in it. I felt it yesterday but quickly disregarded it when I saw the man attacking her, not having time to explore these feelings. When I saw him, straddling her small body, it’s like my world went red and I sprang into action with only one thought in mind. Save her.

When I finally make it to the door, those feelings are still there but something else is sprinkled in. That red-hot anger floods my body once again, a strong tug to protect that woman one way or another. The hairs on the back of my neck stand and I’m thrown into intense feelings of fight or flight. Of course, I’m not going anywhere and punch the numbers into the keypad as fast as I can while yelling out to Namjoon. 

“NAMJOON! SOMETHING’S WRONG!” The man across the yard drops what he’s doing again and bolts toward me. I’m trying not to panic while I place the food on the porch and try to concentrate, still fumbling while putting in the code Namjoon provided. As soon as the door opens, a specific aroma floods my senses. It smells like fall, sugary, and comfortable; definitely a scent I’ve smelled before. It’s so strong, I can taste it. I dash inside with Namjoon hot on my heels.

“TIA! TIA!!!” Namjoon yells for her at the top of his lungs with no answer. I can hear something that mimics the sound of a tornado and a woman shouting. We rush into the kitchen where the noise is coming from, and gusts of wind blow fiercely, jolting us back a bit. Even with my arms up in an attempt to shield my face from the debris riding the rush of wind, I’m still able to notice three of the men I recognize from before but their movements are strange and unnaturally slow. They are running, yelling, and grabbing out for Tia, but at a fraction of the speed they should be moving. While that is strange, nothing could prepare me for what I’d see next.

There she is…but she’s floating?! And with a fucking demon nipping at her bare feet?! I’m hesitant to jump in, unlike before. Yea, I have my piece on me but I don’t know if bullets affect supernatural entities the same way as humans. When I glance over to Namjoon, he is moving like the others, struggling and slow like moving through quicksand. There is shuffling coming from behind me and the other two men come running around the staircase at a frantic pace, only to slow down drastically when they reach the threshold of the kitchen.

It must be that thing trying to keep them at bay and away from Tia.

I have no idea what to do! WHAT THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?! I look up at Tia and her eyes meet mine. Her expression, while screaming the same words repeatedly and thunderously, softens. The winds whirl around even more ferociously, causing objects to slide from the countertops and crash to the floor. Smaller bits are carried on within the storm, flying up to nick and cut at her bare skin and face. However, she looks calm, too calm considering what all is happening right now, her eyes and the lower half of her face completely out of sync.

Salt.

It’s like she’s right next to me, whispering in my ear, though I’ve not heard her voice; only the sound of her screams, whimpers, and cries of yesterday. I can even feel the warmth of her breath against my skin which causes me to snap my head back, knowing that she’s not there but I had to be sure. My hands are visibly trembling but I storm in, nevertheless, and feel directed to a specific drawer. I pull it open and find a plethora of spices, but instinctively grab the coarse kosher salt.

Good. Throw it while repeating after me.

I trust her with every fiber of my being, though I don’t even know this woman. Still, I take a handful of the salt and pelt it toward the shadowy figure. The fear is obviously getting the best of me because after releasing the granules from my hand, my arm splits down to my elbow into two before snapping back. I don’t feel it, like, it doesn’t hurt, but I am freaked the fuck out. Even still, I don’t stop, continuing to hurl the grains. 

The words Tia is shouting begin to spill from my lips, even after never hearing them before now. We repeat the words over and over, yelling in unison:

“Spirit guides, ancestors far and near,

Remove all spirits who don’t belong here.

Ancestors and descendants of the Burton family,

All further attempts to harm will evade me.

No evil to them shall I render,

But their tricks of wickedness, return to sender.

All versions of evil and harm, I banish thee,

As I will it, so mote it be!”

With each strike, the entity folds into itself and blood gushes from it to spatter on the freshly mopped floor. The salt causes the blood to sizzle and spark. With a deep, demonic voice that chills me to the bone, it screeches, “MINE! MINE! MIIIIIIIIIINE!” 

“SPIRIT GUIDES, ANCESTORS FAR AND NEAR,

REMOVE ALL SPIRITS WHO DON’T BELONG HERE.

ANCESTORS AND DESCENDANTS OF THE BURTON FAMILY,

ALL FURTHER ATTEMPTS TO HARM WILL EVADE ME.

NO EVIL TO THEM SHALL I RENDER,

BUT THEIR TRICKS OF WICKEDNESS, RETURN TO SENDER.

ALL VERSIONS OF EVIL AND HARM, I BANISH THEE,

AS I WILL IT, SO MOTE IT BE!”

Just as the last words are spoken, the shadow reaches up to grab at Tia’s ankles, pulling her down with it. 

FUCK NO!

I throw the entire box of salt at it. run over with the last fist full, and attempt to punch this motherfucker, shoving my fist down its throat. With each hit, blood sprays from the figure, spraying up on my clothes and face. I keep punching and punching and punching and punching and punching…

“Jin.”

I notice that the room is still and silent before I look down to see the puddle of blood that I’m kneeling in, and the splatter on my hands and shirt begins to burn away. Quickly, I stand to pat at my shirt and pants to exhaust the flame, but it doesn’t burn and vanishes like it was never there. When I look up, Tia is looking down at me smiling, then, her expression loses life, her eyes roll to the back of her head, and her body begins to plummet from the air. The sound of the other men scrambling, obviously now free from their trap, rush closer behind me. I catch her with an ‘umph’ and fall back to the ground with her limp body cradled in my arms, holding her close to my chest.

A/N: 

Special thanks to @yoongiobsessed for beta reading this chapter for me! 💜

[joonslfttiddie]

HOME

Chapter 47: Blindsided...

💜Fic Pairing: OT7 x OFC

💜AU/Genre: Reverse Harem/Polyfidelity/Ghosts/AMBW

💜Warnings: Adult Language/Adult Content/Murder/Blood/Attack by stalker/Strangulation/Magik/Spells/Rituals

💜Rating: MA

💜Word Count: 6,544

Another POV

“Are you going to tell him?”

“Tell him what exactly? What is there to tell? I’m going to pursue Tia…point, blank, period. It’s common for younger siblings to have a crush on older siblings' partners, so he’ll get over it. Plus, I don’t have to explain myself to Tony. Judging by our conversation the other day, I think he knows how I feel about her.” There is a short pause before Jason asks, “So, is there something you want to tell me?”

Their family had warned Brandon that his hatred for Tony would come back to bite him in the ass. He was warned that Tony would get enough of his mistreatment and eventually get his lick back. It seems like Tony accumulated all of the licks he’s ever owed Brandon and hit him all at once. He knew exactly what he was doing when he dropped that bomb, telling Jason about things he’d witnessed. He told him all about the shit Brandon was saying to his crew, all about the text messages and pictures, and about the videos Brandon and Tia exchanged.

“Bro, what?” Brandon’s heart is thumping hard against his throat, and he’s getting noticeably uncomfortable. Jason's tone clearly indicates that he’s not himself right now. This is the side of him that Brandon doesn't like.

“Don’t ‘what’ me, bitch. Was there anything going on between you and Tia? Is there any truth to what Tony said?” 

“I mean, we spoke a bit, but it wasn't nothing crazy. Why? What did the motherfucker say?”

“If you’re innocent, why does what he said matter?” Jason stands up from Brandon’s bed, circling him like a lion prowling on its prey. “If you’re innocent, let me see your phone. Let me see for myself,” he says as he stops, standing close to Brandon’s face. Too close… he can feel the warmth of his breath on his skin. His breathing is deep, flowing through flared nostrils.

“Jason, why are you acting like this, man? Did you take your meds?”

“I’M NOT FUCKING CRAZY, BRANDON!”

“Hey, hey, hey…whoa! Okay, man,” Brandon says with his hands up in surrender. “I’m not saying you are, I just asked a simple question.”

“I told you, I don’t need that shit. It makes me feel numb, like I’m not living…just existing. I’m fine…I feel better, and I think even more clearly without it. JUST BECAUSE I TAKE IT SOMETIMES DOESN’T MAKE YOU BETTER THAN ME!”

“Alright, man. I’m not better than you. You got it. Let’s just drop it, okay.”

“Don’t tell me what the fuck to do!” Jason pushes his brother hard, his back slamming against the edge of the door’s frame. “Let me see your fucking phone, B.”

“Jason, stop this! There’s nothing to see on my phone, bro.” Brandon, reaching back to soothe the ache in his back, lies knowing that he’s stupidly saved every message and attachment, and if Jason catches a glimpse of anything between him and Tia, he will flip completely the fuck out.

It is rare to see Brandon afraid, shrinking under the scrutiny of his brother’s demented gaze. Even more rare for him to concede for that matter. But this has always been their dynamic; Jason would stop taking the medicine he was prescribed as a teenager for his ‘episodes’, for when he gets angry. During this time, he seems to target Brandon, bullying him and treating him the way Brandon treats Tony. With Brandon still refusing to surrender his device, Jason says, “Bet.”

That one word sends a terrifying chill through Brandon’s body, knowing how unpredictable, impulsive, and violent Jason can be when he is unmedicated. If Jason saw the filth he had sent to Tia or received, no matter how long ago, he would die today. Even though he hates Tony, Brandon is thankful he is not here, being sent away to his mother’s side of the family the day after nearly being caught at Tia’s house again. Jason is damn near uncontrollable when he gets like this; leads to someone dying, or  someone being murdered.

Before Jason can act on his unspoken threat, sirens can be heard coming closer to the house. The flashing lights from the police cars streak across the bedroom walls as the cars kick up dirt to park in front of their residence. Jason makes a break for it, dashing up the hall, out the back door, and through the wooded area behind their house. Brandon, more afraid of what Jason is capable of, stays at the house and waits for the barrage of policemen to move in as he chooses to deal with them rather than his brother.

Jimin’s POV

The house has been eerily quiet and seems to have come to a standstill. Everyone is home, but as I’m gathering evidence from Namjoon and Tia’s bloody clothes and the doorbell camera footage, no one can be seen or heard. I guess that’s to be expected because of the way I’m feeling right now. I can’t really blame the others for being distant either. Downstairs, everything's in its place, no longer showing any proof of the traumatic event that took place just hours ago. I text the family group chat, not really expecting a response, but I let everyone know that I’m leaving.

Jimin: I’ll be right back. Running down to the precinct to holla at Detective Lopez.

There is no response, but everyone acknowledges by giving a thumbs up. This feels so strange. The love between us seems to be suspended in the air, and how it will fall is unknown. I feel so heavy, and I’m admittedly pissed. I can only imagine how everyone else must be feeling.

Should I have said something? Should I have mentioned what Tia told me to the others? Maybe we could’ve prevented all this shit. Maybe they would’ve been able to prepare and feel less blindsided, at least mentally.

As if attempting to empty the thoughts from my mind, I shake my head to grab my keys, and then I walk through the foyer. At the front door, I pause, taking in the details of the wooden floor beneath my feet. It’s as if nothing happened, but I take notice of the feeling that comes over me while in this area. Nausea, pride, horror, anger, relief…all at once. I gotta get the fuck out of here.

Once I’m at the station, I have to sit and wait for Detective Lopez after handing off the evidence to the police evidence technician. The crime scene investigators trusted that I would bring Tia and Namjoon’s bloody clothing untampered with, satisfied with the pictures they were able to get of the two still wearing them while at the house. Jason and his brothers are sloppy criminals, making this a pretty open and shut case; that and Tia’s quick thinking to alert officers before things went down.

“Park,” the detective calls as she rounds the corner. “Sorry to keep you waiting. How is she doing? I can’t imagine what she’s just been through.”

“Honestly, I don’t know. She doesn’t want to talk about it,” I say, then I grit my teeth to avoid saying something else I may regret. Just hold it in. Hold it. “This has been a rough year for her, that’s for sure.”

“I bet. Thanks again for bringing over the clothes and footage. And, of course, this stays between us as this is not protocol. Jungkook asked for a favor, and I didn’t want Tia to have to come down here after everything.”

“Yea, yea…no problem. We appreciate your consideration. So, what’s gonna happen to the guy that shot him?”

“Well, we had to bring him in for questioning, but the footage from the doorbell cam and the statements you all provided will clear him. Today has been wild! Officers brought Brandon in as Jason was going to Tia’s place…your place?”

I am usually amused at people’s reactions regarding our untraditional relationship and thankful when they are understanding, but I’m too shaken to acknowledge it this time.

“Wait, what?! What has he said?”

“Just that Jason was off his meds. He said he figured he would be going to your house but didn’t expect him to attack her like that. He is usually pretty violent when unmedicated but said that Jason had a thing for her.”

“Again…what? I thought it was Tony.”

“Your girl is popular. All three brothers were interested.”

I stand there wide-eyed and speechless while Lopez nods as if reiterating her last statement. Poor Tia. While I am the angriest I’ve been in a hot minute, I gotta let this shit go. I need to get back to her. 

“Damn. Alright, thanks again. I’m gonna go ahead and get back to the house. I’m sure JK will be in contact with you soon.”

“No problem. I hope you all can finally get some rest with one brother gone, one here, and the other being picked up right about now.”

“I hope so too-” I start before I’m interrupted by Lopez.

“Hey, here comes our hero,” she whispers to me with a nudge of her elbow.

I look toward her gaze and see a tall, broad-shouldered man with his head hanging low as he’s wringing his jacket nervously in his trembling hands. He flashes a somber smile that only reaches one corner of his lips. Something in the pit of my stomach flips, and my heart pounds. I just want to hug him and protect him. To make it all better.

Is this gratitude for saving my girl or something else?

Tia’s POV

The house is quiet, but I know everyone is here except Jimin. I feel weird, or maybe this is normal after a traumatic event, but I don’t feel like myself. I’ve been sitting here in the theater for a while…not looking at my phone or the projector screen. I'm just staring into nothingness, mind empty, unsure if this is real life. I feel like I’m here, but I’m not here; teetering on the edge of reality and someplace else. Not that I’m having auditory hallucinations, but I’m hearing something. No, I’m feeling something, and it’s on repeat. I can’t quite make out the signal, and the more frustrated I get while trying to decipher whatever this is, the more encrypted it gets. I’m nearing the fringe of tears before I give up.

FUCK IT!

“Tia.”

“Mom?!”

When I look up, I’m back under that tree whose branches twist and coil like the curls in my hair, and I’m sitting next to my mother. I instantly burst into tears and lay my head on her lap.

“I know, baby, I know,” she says and begins petting my head. “It’s been a tough day, and I’m sure it’s been traumatic, but you’re not done. You’ll need to do a couple of things, and then you’ll be all done. You’re right at the end, and you’re doing so well.”

“Please, help me, mom. I don’t want to do this anymore. I can’t.”

“Yes, you can, and I am right here…I’m always with you. And, my dear, you already know what to do. But, I will sit with you for a bit longer, then you have to finish this.”

“I don’t know… I don’t know what to do,” I sob into her dress, shaking my head.

“Tia, you do. Now, you can cry and let it all out, but then you have to get back to it. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, and only you can end this. It has to be you.”

Laying in my mom’s lap, I slowly come back to myself and stop crying but remain there. We don’t speak as she caresses my hair, and we just sit in comfortable silence. I look up to her as she smiles down at me. I notice a woman appears behind her, adorned with a similar expression that beams down at me from over my mom’s shoulder. The woman is me, but she’s not me. She looks like me, almost identical, but I can sense she’s someone else; someone I feel very strongly connected to. 

She winks at me, and in what only seems like seconds, I find that I’m waking up on the theater chair, fully rested and filled with determination and calm. ‘Limited power. Do the work. Unstoppable.’ This message, clear as day, is on a loop, but I do not know what it means. However, there’s suddenly an epiphany…knowledge that I didn’t know before that is coming forth. I know what I need to do at this particular moment. 

Immediately, I grab my phone and text a list of items to Jimin in hopes he can grab them before coming home. He replies back to me, letting me know he will grab the items, so I run up to the kitchen to prepare what I already have. 

After filling a large pot about halfway, I turn on the flame. As it’s heating up, I sprinkle in a bit of sea salt before moving to the side to slice a lemon and a grapefruit, adding half of each to the water. Then, I drop in a large tea bag that I’ve filled with basil, thyme, a few bay leaves, rosemary, cloves, mullein, and cinnamon sticks. I put the remaining slices of lemon and grapefruit into the air fryer to dehydrate them. The smell that fills the kitchen is sweet and familiar, even more so after I add in a few drops of lavender and bergamot essential oils to my cauldron. I allow the concoction to simmer for approximately 25-30 minutes, until the water begins to take on an amber hue. I turn off the fire, allowing it to steep and cool for just a moment.

As that sits, I add the same herbs to a cup I use to blend smoothies. Just as the air fryer beeps to signal that the lemon and grapefruit are done, I hear Jimin coming inside, the bag rustling in his hand.

“Babe?!”

“I’m in here,” I attempt to yell back to him, but my voice is more gruff than usual, and my throat is sore.

“Something smells good,” he says when his handsome face emerges into the kitchen. His smile seems disingenuous, and his mood is noticeably flat. He places the bag on the island next to the stove while peering into the pot. What are you making, tea?”

“It smells like it could be, huh? But no, I’m making a floor wash,” I push out, voice cracking like a prepubescent boy. “I need to clean the foyer,” I tell him as his arms wrap around my waist, squeezing and pulling me in tightly against his body.

He clears his throat and says, “The professionals cleaned it earlier. It looks spotless.”

“Yea, I know. They cleaned the surface but I need to do a deeper cleanse. A spiritual cleanse.”

“Oooooooh, got cha. So, is this what you needed this other stuff for?”

I reach for the bag and pull out some of its contents: dried calendula flowers, hyssop, Epsom salt, dried eucalyptus, nettle, and dried lotus flowers. Thankfully, the old metaphysical store my mother frequented isn’t far from our house.

“I’m going to do a spiritual bath to cleanse myself with this stuff and make a smoke bowl with some of it.”

“The lady at the shop told me to tell you everything will be fine,” he informs me while resting his chin on my shoulder. “I asked how she knew, and she said that she could tell by the items you requested. She even put a few incense sticks in for free.”

“Awww… how sweet,” I say, loving how gifted individuals in these areas can understand each other on another level. Taking the items from the bag, I lift the sticks up separately to my nose, then allow Jimin to smell. “Sage, dragon’s blood, frankincense, and myrrh. She definitely knows the vibes.”

With him still attached, I add the eucalyptus, lemons, and grapefruit to the cup and blend them down into small fragments. Then, I pour that into a large mason jar before blending the nettle, calendula, bay leaves, hyssop, and lotus. After adding most of that to the jar, I cover the ingredients with the Epsom salt, a few drops of the essential oils, and give it a good shake. I reach into the cabinet to grab a smudge bowl that mom used to use to burn herbs. It is small, maybe the size of one cupped hand, and put the rest of the herbs in it.

Pushing that all aside for later, I carefully remove the sachet from the hot liquid while speaking my intentions over the water, followed by an incantation that I don’t think is coming from me. The words seem to flow, as if being spoken through me by someone or something else, but I close my eyes and relax, allowing it to come over me as my breath wafts into the mixture blowing the steam as I speak.

“I call upon my ancestors and guides from north, south, west, and east,

Protect our home from evil; send it back and away from me.

I banish all negativity, curses, and dangers seen and unseen,

Spreading love, protection, and positivity over my home and my family like the water as I clean.

As I will it, so mote it be,

Àse.

Thank you,

May you go in peace.”

“That was beautiful, baby,” Jimin says, then kisses my neck, staying there for a moment. He sniffles then says, “So beautiful.”

“Thanks! I don’t really know where it came from, though. They don’t seem like my words. They just sort of flowed out.”

“Maybe it was just your heart overtaking your mind. Don’t you always say to lead with love?”

“Now that…that was beautiful,” I say, and we both let out a half-hearted chuckle, although my intent was not to be funny. “I needed to hear that.” His statement makes me feel more confident about getting out of my head and following my intuition.

“Are you about to clean now? Is this something I can help with?”

“No, I think I got it.”

“Yeah? Okay.” He detaches himself from me to lean against the adjacent countertop, arms folded across his chest as his eyes trace the floor, avoiding eye contact. “Look, I know you said earlier that you weren’t ready to talk. I understand, but I was hoping to speak with you about today. It’s just that-.”

“Baby, I know. I can feel the same frequency coming from all of you. Let me do this first, and then we can all talk as a family,” I request, still riding the high of my new-found mission, completely immersed in my task.

“Yeah. Okay,” he says, sounding different from his previous response. This one lacked tenderness and care and oozed with sarcasm and resentment.

“Jimin, I know you’re upset. You all are in some way, shape, or form, but let me do this first. Please,” I beg while being pulled to complete my tasks.

“Do what you gotta do, Tia.”

Tia??? Not beautiful? Wow, so, he’s MAD mad.

“Wow, are you serious right now?”

“What? I said go ahead. Be careful. I’ll be upstairs if you need me,” he announces before pushing himself from the island to go upstairs. 

I can’t help but scoff as he walks past me, knowing his statement is not half as carefree as he’s trying to portray. The vibes are apparent. Please, I could feel the tension in how he held me, in the tone of his voice, all in an attempt to mimic his typical self.

Are you fucking serious right now?! Ain’t no fucking way he’s mad that I’m not ready to talk. I know he had a traumatic day, but mine wasn’t exactly a walk in the park either. I’M the one that was stalked. I’M the one that was attacked. I’M the one that was pinned under a man as he had his fucking head blown off. I mean, it didn’t come off, I don’t think….bitch, focus.

I continue what I’m doing while ranting to myself, becoming noticeably more irritated the more I think about it, wanting nothing more than to storm up the stairs and curse him the fuck out for treating me this way. But I don’t. I’m trying to do better…be better, not only for myself, but for them. I’ll finish up here while keeping my thoughts to myself.

Bitch, calm down. They’ve been through a lot, too! Not only today, but dealing with all my shit this whole time. THEY were here for me when I was stalked. THEY were here for me when I was poisoned. THEY were here for me when I was attacked. And they took care of me the whole time. I gotta stop being selfish and be more considerate of my loves.

Lead with love… lead with love… lead with love.

I repeat this mantra mentally while doing breathing exercises. Still breathing and chanting as I grab my mop and bucket from the supply closet near the basement door. Slowly and carefully, I transfer the sweet, light brown water to the bucket. After returning the pot to the stove, I made sure to grab a couple of the incense from the counter, place the bottom of the stick between my teeth to free my hands, and lug the bucket into the foyer. Here, I grab the matches from the console table drawer and light the incense sticks the shop owner gifted. 

Then, I begin to repeat my incantation as I swish the mop around in the water, taking notice of how my body is reacting to being back in this area. My throat is already scratchy, uncomfortable as I force my raspy voice out, but I’m having to work even harder than just a few moments ago. I feel hot with sweat beginning to cause my shirt to stick to my back and my mouth is extra moist. I feel like I’m going to be sick. It feels like my throat is tightening and it’s getting harder to breathe, just like I felt earlier with Jason straddling my frame, attempting to choke the life from me.

Something doesn’t want me to do this. It knows my intentions.

Nevertheless, I spin the excess water from my mop and plop it on the hardwood. Ignoring my lightheadedness and the way my face has begun to tingle as if losing blood circulation, I continue and swirl the mixture counterclockwise, ceaselessly speaking the spell:

“I call upon my ancestors and guides from north, south, west, and east,

Protect our home from evil; send it back and away from me.

I banish all negativity, curses, and dangers seen and unseen,

Spreading love, protection, and positivity over my home and my family like the water as I clean. (x9)

As I will it, so mote it be,

Àse.

Thank you,

May you go in peace.”

Again, dunking the mop into the steaming water, then I begin to mop the entire foyer, only moving counterclockwise to dispel the dark, heavy, curse-like energy out of our house. Suddenly, my mind shows me where the men have been in my home. My vision goes dark, only able to see a silhouette of where Jason’s body was on the floor and footprints from their previous visits glowing neon red. Fervently, I begin to clean with purpose, targeting the indicated areas and with each swipe of my mop, I watch the figure and footprints ignite into flame before disappearing; only a small cloud of smoke is left in its wake.

A calming energy seems to be here with me and words are spilling from my mouth, my body seems to be moving on its own. Whatever or whomever is here is helping me, giving me more energy and strength to fight. The pressure on my windpipe is damn near insufferable and I find myself panting and becoming more light headed by the second. 

Dunk. Swish. Spin, Mop. Even as I’m almost gasping for air, I make my way into the kitchen, cleaning the shoe prints from the ceramic tiles, removing all of the negative energy those men brought into our house.

Taehyung’s POV

The scents coming from downstairs smell comforting and sweet. Judging by how Jimin stomps up the stairs, I’d say his mood is quite the opposite. Laying on the bed in our shared room, I ask, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What? I’m fine.”

Anyone could see that he is upset from the flush of his cheeks, how his nostrils dilate, and the redness of his eyes; as if he’s been crying.

“Okay, if you say so. You definitely don’t look fine.”

“Fuck,” Jimin says, plopping to sit next to me on the bed while wiping his face.

I immediately sit up and put my phone down. I want to let him know he has my attention. Admittedly, I’m a bit caught off guard that he’s sitting on my bed after working out in the dance studio, but I’ve also never seen him this way.

“What’s up?”

“It’s Tia, bro, or it may just be me,” he sniffles. “I’m livid, but I don’t want her to feel worse, so I’m trying my best to act normal. I kinda just snapped at her. Why is shit so cryptic with her? Why do we have to wait until she’s ready to talk like we haven’t experienced something traumatic as well? It just feels a bit selfish, I guess,” he confesses, head down while fiddling with his fingers. I watch as a single teardrop travels from the inner corner of his eye and over to his nose. It stalls for a moment before it falls from the tip of it and onto his lap.

“I get it, I really do, but we just have to be patient with her. Yes, what we saw today will haunt our dreams, no doubt. But, she’s been through so much,” I say and place a reassuring hand on his shoulder before I continue. “I’m not saying you’re wrong, Jimin, and I get where you’re coming from, but we have to think about Tia, too.”

“I’m always thinking of her. She’s my number one priority, always. Hell, just seeing and hearing the effects of her being attacked; her throat seems sore and her voice is so fucking hoarse. As soon as I heard it, it’s like my heart broke for her all over again. I should have done more.”

“Look. We are here for a reason. We all love Tia and want to cherish her while keeping her safe, not just physically but mentally, too. You did what you could do, there’s nothing more you could have done. I know you’re upset she didn’t tell you that was going to happen. Shit, we all are, but we know she’s not the type of person who would hurt us intentionally. So, let’s find comfort in that. She had to have her reasons for doing things like she did. Let’s just wait and hear her out.”

“You’re right. I’m just in my feelings. I was here, right here at the house, and I couldn’t keep her safe. What good am I? You know? Do I even deserve to be here?” He covers his mouth with his hand and sits like that for a moment with tears dancing in his eyes, threatening to fall.

“Honestly, I feel like that’s a normal reaction to have. We’re all having similar thoughts and doubts right now. I would be concerned if you didn’t feel any way about it.”

He chuckles a bit then wipes his face again before pushing his hair from his face. Finally, he allows himself to relax, leaning back against me.

“Yea, I feel you. Thanks for letting me vent, Tae. Today has been rough.”

“Of course.”

“Where is everybody?”

“Jungkook is in the gym with Hobi down in the dance studio. Yoongi found some art supplies down there and is painting by the pool. Namjoon is still in the library.”

“It’s so neat that we’re able to feel each other's presence. I can feel that they are all here, just not exactly where. Can you feel their exact locations?” He turns to look at me over his shoulder, fascination and wonder in his eyes.

“I hate to burst your bubble, but no. I went for a stroll earlier while you were out, and I saw them,” I say with a snicker.

“Oh,” he says with a smile and rests against me again. “Well, speaking of being able to feel each other’s presence…”

Jungkook’s POV

I’m so fucking pissed. I hardly know what to do with myself. I’ve been in the gym most of the day, torturing myself and this punching bag. Even though my fists ache, I continue in an attempt to punish myself. Maybe I’m trying to beat the anger that I have towards Tia. I don’t take my role as her man lightly, so I’m livid that I wasn’t there to protect her. I wasn’t there when she needed me most. I didn’t have a choice in the matter as she knew and didn’t tell me. I’m pissed at the Burton brothers and the fact that I didn’t get the chance to kill Jason myself. 

*thump*

I’m a fucking police officer! I should’ve trusted my gut.

*thump*

I should’ve been here. I should’ve protected her.

*thump*

What if he had hurt her worse than he did?

Exhausted, I hug the bag. My body is dripping with sweat, and my nose is starting to run due to my overheating. My throat is dry from breathing heavily, but this isn’t enough. I need to suffer at least a fraction of her suffering. Thinking back on how she looked when we got back, shaken, battered, and bruised, her face and clothes soaked with blood. I’ve seen a lot in my line of work, but that image will be seared into my memory to haunt me for the rest of my life. 

She wants to explain why she couldn’t tell me, but I can’t hear it now. I can’t trust that my words won’t do more harm than good to her, and I don’t want to hurt her more than she’s already been. Reluctantly, I release the bag after one more hit and then allow myself to collapse onto the floor. The coolness of the hardwood helps to regulate my body’s temperature. I know I should head back to the house to shower, but I’m not ready. I’m embarrassed to see the guys because I couldn’t protect her. I don’t want to see her because I’m angry, and the bruises around her throat are a physical representation of me failing her.

Namjoon’s POV

I don’t know who I’m trying to fool, sitting here with my nose in a damn book, unable to even comprehend the words. I trusted her and allowed her to lull me into a false sense of security. I had a feeling that something was up with her. I knew it! But I allowed my trust in her to override my own intuition. I can't hold back the tears that well up in my eyes when I hear her calling out to Jimin. Her voice is hoarse and rasping, being forced from her throat, nothing like the sweet tone that usually drips from her lips. My heart aches for her, even though I am so upset. Thinking about it has me unintentionally balling up the cover of the paperback book in my fists.

“Ugh, I can’t do this. I need some air,” I say to myself.

I place the book on the couch and stand to head outside, knowing that I will be able to find some kind of peace out there. When I reach the front door, multiple feelings come over me all at once and cause the hairs all over my body to stand on end. I can’t seem to get out of the door fast enough as I fumble with the lock. It’s like the air is thick here, causing me to struggle to breathe. Finally, I’m out and lean my back against the door, thankful for the fresh air and cool breeze. I know that it won’t fix everything, but I grab some equipment from the truck and get started on the lawn. There’s not much to be done as I’ve already taken care of everything, but I just need a distraction. Even if only for a moment, doing something that I enjoy and can get lost in, I need something that doesn’t require me to think or feel.

Hoseok’s POV

Lying here in the middle of this floor, I can feel the bass from the sound system booming through my body. I’m at the point where I don’t think I can dance another step as I’m panting, my chest rising and falling to the beat. I feel like coming down here was an attempt to push the negative feelings and thoughts out of my mind, but they are all rushing back to me now. Fuck…what have I gotten myself into? Of course, this shit would pop off as soon as I’ve finalized all my shit back in Bangtan. Am I making the right decision to move in?

Now, not to be mistaken with me regretting committing to Tia and the guys, it’s not that. However, the uncertainty of whether my feelings and the respect I have for my loves will be reciprocated is concerning. Ain’t no fucking way I should have come home, blindsided by finding a dead man lying in the middle of the foyer. As if that shit isn’t disturbing enough, ain’t no way my lady should have known it was going to happen and not felt the need to inform me.

I sit up with a huff, pissed and unable to hide it even if I wanted to. There is no way I will ever be able to scrub the visual of Tia, sitting on the edge of the couch, stiff as if trying not to transfer the blood and flesh from her face and clothes onto the fabric. Her face; blood and tear-stained and her expression of horror and shock. Jesus. Just thinking about it has tears welling in my eyes. My poor baby. Even though I’m mad, I want nothing more than to have her in my arms.

After turning off the music and the fans, I leave the studio and go into the gym. I find Jungkook, soaked with sweat, sprawled across the floor.

“You good, Koo?”

“I will be, bro. You?”

“Same. I will be.”

“Yea. You heading back in?”

“Yeah, I need to see Tia. I’m pissed, don’t get me wrong, but I just need to see her. To hold her, you know?”

“Absolutely. I’m trying to get out of my head first. I don’t want to act in a way or say something that will hurt her further,” he confesses as he sits up, remaining seated on the floor.

“That makes sense and says a lot about the love you have for her. Honestly, I don’t even know if I’m really upset with Tia for real.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know if I’m upset with her or if I’m upset with myself and taking it out on her. I’m mad that I wasn’t here for her AND the fact that I didn’t even get a chance to choose whether to be here or not. But, ultimately, it’s more because I feel inadequate,” I admit and shrug my shoulders. “I think I’m just going to let this shit go and focus on the good. She’s still here. Today could have ended much differently.”

The look on Jungkook’s face is as if I’d cracked some type of code. His expression can only be described as one of enlightenment, as if he’d not thought about the alternative ending.

“Bro-” he says with a quiver in his voice, then takes his bottom lip between his teeth. 

Fuck, did I say something wrong? I didn’t mean to make him cry! Instinctually, I rush over to his side and wrap him up in my arms.

“Koo, I’m so sorry. Is it something I said?”

He shakes his head against my chest as he silently sobs. We stay this way for a while, him leaning into the comfort of my embrace as I’m stroking his back through his sweat-soaked shirt. He sits up when he’s ready and wipes his nose on the back of his bandage-wrapped hand.

“You didn’t say anything wrong. You’re right. I was so focused on my anger towards Tia and didn’t even take into consideration that I could possibly be projecting my feelings on her when I was just mad at myself. I’m pissed because of what he did to her and I’m embarrassed that, as a police officer, I couldn’t even protect my own girlfriend, you know?” Still squatting down to his level, I nod, completely understanding him. “He really came to our home, our safe haven, and attacked her in broad daylight. I’m down here, making this about me when I should be taking advantage of the opportunity to hold her in my arms again. I should be comforting her. Like you said, today could have definitely ended differently. I could have lost her.”

I stand up and reach down to pull him up with me.

“Let’s go see her.”

Yoongi’s POV

I’m so glad I happened to find some paint supplies and canvases in the storage closet of the pool house. I grab what I think I’ll need and decide to set up here at the pool, not wanting to disturb Jungkook and Hoseok from what they are doing but also not brave enough to go into the main house. My feelings are all over the place, and my mind feels so cluttered I don’t want to be around people right now. The past 24 hours have been insane, and I’m trying to wrap my head around it all while also giving Tia space to process her own thoughts. 

I am just going to take this time to paint my thoughts and feelings in hopes of clearing them out of my head and putting them on the canvas to help me process. I’ve completely relinquished control over this creation and am allowing myself to subconsciously dip into the different colors, placing them here and there without thought. I’m imagining this is what meditation is like: allowing my thoughts to come, acknowledging the thought, then allowing it to pass. I continue to do this until I have nothing else to think about, my last thoughts being, ‘What can I do for Tia? How can I help her? Are the guys okay?’

When I hear the door to the pool house open, I look up and see Jungkook and Hoseok walking toward me. Their sweat has drenched their shirts, causing the area to become darker than the rest of the fabric, creating nearly perfect triangles down their chests. I also realize that I’ve zoned out and I’m unaware of how much time has passed, but my canvas is now completely covered.

“Hey, did you paint something pretty?” Hobi asks before coming over to take a peek.

“Ummm… my intention was to clear my mind, to get all the crap out and onto the fabric.”

“Damn,” Jungkook says when he looks at it. “Do you feel better?”

“I do, actually. I typically love to paint but I kind of spaced out with this one. I don’t even know how long I’ve been at it.”

The guys help me pick up the supplies, putting some back where they belong, and taking others into the house to be cleaned. I take the artwork and easel inside, deciding to leave it in the basement to dry.

A/N:

So so so sorry for the long wait but this chapter is extra long to make up for that. Life has been crazy, but in a good way. I hope that you all have been well, happy and healthy.

Thanks so much to @yoongiobsessed and @heathfritillary for beta reading this chapter.

[joonslfttiddie]

Home

Chapter 46: You Mean Nothing...

💜Fic Pairing: OT7 x OFC

💜AU/Genre: Reverse Harem/Polyfidelity/Ghosts/AMBW

💜Warnings: Smut/Adult Language/Adult Content/Murder/Blood/Attack by stalker/Strangulation

💜Rating: MA

💜Word Count: 4,844

Chapter 46

Tia’s POV

Not only have my ancestors given me a peek at the passion the guys and I will hold dearly, but they have also informed me of the best way to navigate situations to keep us all safe. I had told Jimin that I was keeping something from them to prevent a situation that could harm us physically and mentally. However, I couldn't reveal more details as it might negatively impact our timeline. I know that if I told him, he would immediately tell the others in an attempt to keep me safe. Because of that, I also couldn’t let him know of today’s events.

“Y’all, I’m starving! We don’t have anything to cook for lunch,” I whine while sprawled across the couch, my head resting in Taehyung’s lap. Even though we did have a late breakfast, it’s well past lunchtime and my belly lets me know by rumbling loudly. This is just another reason to put some fire under these guys.

“We, literally, just had breakfast,” Jungkook chuckles while rubbing my calf, his eyes fixed on the TV screen. “There’s no way you’re hungry again already.”

“It’s okay, my baby,” Taehyung says sweetly yet teasingly while stroking my hair. I pout up at his handsome face, which makes him laugh, then offer, “We’ll go as soon as Yoongi gets here, okay?”

“There are still chips in the pantry. Do you want a bag to hold you over?”

“Joonie, you’re so sweet but I want meat,” I say, declining his offer, not even realizing I’d inadvertently walked myself into a joke.

“Well, if that’s the case, I just might have something you can snack on,” Jungkook teases.

I can’t help but laugh out loud and kick at him playfully.

“Wow, Koo. While that sounds appetizing, I’ll save that for later.”

Our laughter dies down before Jimin can ask, “Did Hoseok say what time he’d be back from Bangtan?”

“He said it’d be later this evening, most likely,” I answer him without looking over at him lying on the floor near Namjoon’s chair, scrolling on his phone judging by the Tiktok sounds I hear.

“So we really do need to leave as soon as Yoongi gets here so that we can make dinner before he gets back,” Jungkook realizes.

“Or we could just do takeout tonight? Seems like that would be the easiest thing so you guys won’t be rushing,” Namjoon suggests.

“That sounds good to me,” Taehyung says, smiling down at me.

“You know I don’t mind that at all. Maybe we could get food from that new restaurant Tia wanted to try,” Jimin adds.

“Bet, that sounds like a plan then. Since we’re in no rush now, how about-,” Jungkook says as he runs his hand up my thighs to glide his finger under the hem of my black shorts.

“Koo!” I giggle as he leans across the couch, slithering his body to lay on top of me.

“Damn, this man never quits,” Namjoon says to no one in particular with a snicker.

“He is quite insatiable, huh?” Jimin laughs, answering Namjoon.

“I swear,” Taehyung agrees with a chuckle, joining the other men. “I don’t see how he does it. I guess I’m getting old cause my back is still sore from helping move those mattresses last night,” he retorts as he fondly runs his fingers through Jungkook’s hair, who is now kissing me deeply. Jungkook parts my legs with his knee, making room to rest his semi-erect manhood against my mound.

My giggles have long turned into moans and I find myself fighting the urge to allow my mind to cloud over with lust. I can’t. I have to get them out of this house. While I wish this make-out session could continue, I gently push Jungkook away by his shoulders.

“Babe,” is all I manage to say, thankfully being saved by the bell.

“That must be Yoongi,” Namjoon says, about to get up to answer the door.

“I got it,” Jimin offers, getting up to run out of the room.

Jungkook kisses my lips one more time before dismounting my body with a grin on his face. Taehyung leans over to kiss me, too, then helps me up from the couch to rush excitedly behind Jimin to meet Yoongi at the door. On my way to him, I suddenly see blue and red lights flashing in the peripheral of my mind’s eye, signaling that trouble is on the way. I have to get them away from the house…NOW!

Yoongi’s POV

I smile involuntarily when I’m met at the door by Jimin, Tia, and the sweetest smell of caramel or vanilla. Fighting the urge to pounce, the scent, along with the boyshorts that hug Tia’s hips and thighs, is triggering something primal within me. I remember the distinct aroma from yesterday, but it is inebriating coming from outside to be consumed by it again. When I come in contact with her soft body as she rushes into my arms, I bury my face in her neck and strands of her hair tickle my cheek.

“YOONGI!”

She continues to squeal my name, pulling me into her even tighter. I’m not usually a fan of loud noises but the way she screams my name sends chills down my spine. Not even realizing that I’d begin to squeeze her tighter, I relax my fists to release her shirt from my grip and my grip on her.

“Geez,” she says lightheartedly, slowly pulling away. “I couldn’t breathe for a second there. Are you okay?”

I’m slightly embarrassed by the effect she has on me, or rather my inability to control myself. I reassure her that I’m fine and apologize while Jimin caresses her back and checks to make sure she’s okay. After a moment, she seems to speed walk her way back through the foyer and disappears into the kitchen.

FUCK! She must be pissed at me.

Before I can mentally spiral, Jimin is there to talk to me.

“Bro, breathe,” he says and I exhale a breath I didn't even know I was holding.

“I didn’t mean to hurt her. I don’t want to hurt her, I swear. It’s just-,” I try to explain before he finishes my sentence.

“It’s her scent. I know. I get it. We’ve all been there, I promise,” he reassures me, his hand on my shoulder. “It does get better with being around her more. Come on,” he says, leading me through the kitchen and into the living room where the other guys are. They all extend warm welcomes, taking turns coming to hug me. My heart feels so full, I could cry.

“Ahem,” I clear the lump from my throat, “what are you guys up to?”

I try to discreetly read Tia’s expression from where I’m standing. I watch while her eyes dart here and there, also, taking notice of her shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

I thought she was upset with me for hurting but she seems more tense than angry now. Anxious, even. Maybe I’m reading too much into it.

“Waiting for you to get here. Grocery run, remember?” Jungkook answers, then grabs his hoodie from the back of the couch and puts it on.

“Dang, he just got here,” Namjoon says to Jungkook, his sulking evident by his expression.

“I know! I feel the same way, but let's think of it this way,” Tia says. “The sooner they leave, the quicker they’ll be back, right?”

She stands on her tiptoes to kiss his lips which seems to appease him for now. Taehyung gathers his things, Tia passes out kisses to him, Jungkook and me, then we’re out the door.

Namjoon’s POV

I don’t know if Jimin noticed before he left to go to the dance studio, but Tia seems a bit on edge. Something ain’t right. I can tell that she’s trying to downplay it, but as I’ve mentioned before, I feel like I’ve known her forever. I know her little quirks, habits, and mannerisms. And right now, she seems rigid and tense…almost robotic.

“Little, you good?”

You would have thought I yelled at her by the way she flinches.

“Huh? Oh, sorry. I was in my head for a moment,” she tells me, which could be true. I understand that she’s still getting a handle on her gifts. I can’t imagine how she must be feeling trying to navigate that on top of all of the excitement surrounding our new living situation.

“I just asked if you are okay. You seem off.”

“I’m okay, really. I’m just a little tired, I guess. Do you want to nap with me?”

I agree, a little drowsy myself, and follow her upstairs. We snuggle up under the sprawling duvet and the bed seems even larger with just the two of us in it. Once in the middle, we cuddle up against each other, her tiny frame fitting perfectly with mine. When I feel her body fully relax and her breathing deepens, I’m able to succumb to my own tiredness, knowing that she’s safe in my arms.

Jimin’s POV

In the studio, I connect my phone to the speakers and play one of my playlists. I allow my body to move instinctively, no particular choreography in mind. Even though I’m enjoying how light and effortless my movements feel, my mind is congested with thoughts of Tia. I’m worried about her but decided to come down here to give her some space. I’m going to have to talk with my baby. I feel obligated to let her know that she’s terrible at hiding her feelings. As if on her sleeves, they can be seen in her movements, her touch, shit, even the way she squealed Yoongi’s name didn’t sound right.

I’m assuming the change within her has something to do with what she shared with me yesterday. It has to be. She said it was something she couldn’t go into detail about in order to protect us. I’m dying to know what she’s talking about, but I know that if she has to keep it close to her chest, it’s for a good reason. I just wish there was something I could do to help her. The thoughts are haunting, but I know better than to tell the others. I don’t want Tia to question her trust in me, and I would hate to have the guys feel like I am right now.

After dancing for nearly an hour, I’ve worked up quite an appetite. I take the initiative to place an order of different dishes from the spot we agreed on. They should deliver the food in approximately 30 minutes, which gives me enough time to dance for a few more minutes before I go up and shower.

Tia’s POV

And the Academy Award should go to me for the act I just put on, or so I thought until Namjoon questioned me. I feel slightly guilty, like I’m being deceptive, but I have to be in this case. I have to in order to save us all. I’ve been focusing on keeping my feelings inside and not transmitting to the guys this entire time.

When he believes I’m sleeping and dozes off himself, I wait until he’s snoring and in a deep sleep before I slink from under his arm and inch my way out of bed. With my phone in hand, once I’m downstairs, I dial the number the female detective had given me the night she and her partner interrogated me, Taehyung, and Jungkook in the bedroom.

She answers quickly with, “Detective Lopez.”

“Hi, Detective Lopez, this is Tia Monroe. I’m not sure if you remember me from the stalker case at 1959 Honeysuckle Terrace.”

“Of course. Yes, I remember you. You’re Officer Jeon’s girlfriend, right?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Of course. How may I help?”

Her friendly tone turns serious when I begin to give her the details I’ve acquired. Thankfully, she takes my word for it, maybe because of my relationship with Jungkook, and doesn’t press to know how I know these things. She pauses each time I say something of significance, repeating it in a whisper, letting me know that she’s writing down the important parts. She is just as relieved as I am to know that Jungkook is not here, understanding how hot-tempered he can be, especially when it comes to people he cares about.

“So, there are already units at his house looking for Tony, and the brother is coming for you right now?”

“I believe so, yes.”

“Got it. I’m on my way.”

After hanging up, I quickly take a peek outside from the balcony door, hoping that Jimin will be dancing for a little while longer. This has to play out just right so that we ALL survive.

Narrator POV

Tia hangs up the call with Detective Lopez and quickly makes her way to the balcony door. She is relieved that Jimin is not on his way back to the house and that Namjoon is upstairs sleeping soundly.

While walking the aisles, Jungkook, Taehyung, and Yoongi chat about nothing of relevance while placing things into the cart until Yoongi speaks up.

“Is it just me, or did Tia seem…different?”

“Holy fuck, I was literally thinking the exact same thing,” Taehyung answers, placing his things in while Yoongi pushes.

Jungkook feels it too but doesn’t say a word, now pissed at himself for not following his gut. Something seemed to be nagging at him, like a gnat in his ear, telling him to stay with her.

“Let’s finish,” he says, and they find themselves moving with haste, trying to grab everything on their lists. They try to ignore the uneasiness that rests between them, but they seem to have made a silent agreement to grab what they need and then get back to the house. It hasn’t even been an hour since the men left the house, but each minute feels like an eternity, knowing that something is off with Tia.

They finish up, check out, and rush to load their bagged items into the car. Taehyung shifts the car into drive, looking behind him to back out of the parking spot. Before he can press the accelerator, Yoongi touches his hand.

“Umm, you’re in drive,” he points out to the younger man.

“Fuck,” Taehyung says, his mind obviously somewhere else at the moment.

“Here, I’ll drive,” Jungkook offers before getting out from the backseat to switch seats with Taehyung.

After tying up all of the loose ends in Bangtan, Hoseok hops in his car, excited to head back home.

At this moment, a man can be seen walking toward the house, his construction boots leaving imprints as he walks through the grass. He doesn’t even have time to ring the bell when Tia opens the door, almost as if she’s expecting him.

Jungkook’s POV

Fuck, fuck, fuck! I knew something wasn’t right. I fucking knew!

The thought seems to be on a loop, repeating in my head, the only thing I can hear due to the silence among us. Yoongi’s foot taps against the floor at an unnatural speed as he’s staring out the passenger side window at nothing in particular. Taehyung seems to be on the verge of a panic attack, clearly out of it at the moment, his breathing is erratic with sporadic deep sighs. I can’t say that I blame these guys being that I’m sure I would have similar reactions if not for my training.

I must admit, I am taking advantage of that training at the moment, speeding and dodging in and out between the cars in traffic, relying on the security that my badge will afford me if pulled over. I wish my instincts as an officer would have convinced me to stay with Tia. I pray this gut feeling is wrong for once in my life.

Tia’s POV

“Twin, where have you been?”

I joke with the man at the door, even though my heart is pounding in my throat. And judging by his expression, he’s not really in a laughing mood.

“You think you’re really funny, don’t you?”

“I do, actually. Don’t you?”

“Bitch, I don’t even know where to start with you.”

“Excuse me? What the fuck did I do? What is happening?”

“You know what the fuck happened. Why are there cops at my fucking house? I know your hoe ass is behind it.”

“Whoa! What are you talking about? That’s your house. I ain’t got shit to do with what goes on in your home, sir,” I say, trying to act like my normal, sarcastic self.

“You know, don’t you?”

“Know what, Brandon? Matter of fact, why are you even here? What makes you feel as if it’s okay for you to pop up at my house unannounced, yet again, with the nerve to talk to me any kind of way?”

“You know that Tony is our little brother. Why else would you tip off your bitch ass boyfriend?”

“Yea, I know he’s your brother but I haven’t tipped anybody off about anything. And my boyfriend is far from a bitch.”

“Hmm,” he says, scratching at his beard. “I wonder what else you might know. Are you a witch? I heard stories about your whore of a great-great grandmother and how she seduced my great-great-grandfather with her tricks and spells. I see it runs in the family…black magic AND being a fucking slut.”

It’s no surprise that Brandon can be a dick, but I’ve never experienced him speaking to me this way. I must admit, I am caught off guard and I don’t feel that any vision could have prepared me for this.

“Brandon, you’re going to fucking far. You need to leave now.”

“Since you know every fucking thing, do you know who was texting you? Who was watching over you and protecting you? Do you know why your wine was extra delicious?”

I am just standing here, trying to read whatever is behind his eyes from this distance, which is making things even harder than usual. His questions cause the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end; my gut is telling me to dig deeper. Looking into his eyes, all I can see is evil and death.

“Protecting me? Wine? What are you talking about?”

“It was me. I’ve loved you from the first day we met—way before meeting you here. You remember, don’t you?” He speaks proudly as he admits this to me and seriously expects me to remember some previous encounter.

“Ummm,” I say as he’s taking steps towards me.

“At your old office. I remember it like it was yesterday. I’ve been checking on you ever since, only having to keep my distance so that I didn’t get caught or connected to Tony’s dumb ass.” He stops just at the threshold of the door as he continues to reminisce. “And I’m so sorry for what he did to you that one day. I had no idea he was talking about you when he asked me for dating advice. I should have just killed him then for hurting you. I’m so sorry,” he reaches out to touch my face and I pull away.

“Stop, Brandon. You need to go.”

“I’m not going no fucking where. Not until you admit that you feel the same way I do. I know you do. You always have. I can tell by the way you look at me. The way you smile at me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never looked at you any kind of way after we had that talk. I only remember you from when I hired you to do my renovations. Sure, we flirted in the beginning and did some senseless stuff, but we ended that. That’s how I met you and I don’t remember anything about us meeting before then. I only recently found out that you and Jason used to bring Tony to his appointments sometimes but we never met or spoke to each other for that matter.”

“So, you’re telling me that you don’t remember me? You haven’t missed me at all? Do you even love me? Do you not feel the way I do?”

“Brandon, what the fuck. No! No, I don’t. What about anything I’ve said are you not comprehending? I don’t love you and I never have. You mean nothing to me.”

“Stop calling me that,” he says, becoming increasingly upset as his face takes on a new shade of red.

“Stop calling you what? By your name? You are crazy and delusional, Brandon. It’s time for you to go.”

“I said don’t call me that. AND I’M NOT CRAZY!”

As if my last remark was the last straw, the man lunges at me, causing my body to slam against the hardwood floor, his body weight on me making the impact that much worse. I’m coughing while trying to catch my breath, having the wind knocked from my lungs. I’m trying to crawl away as he straddles my body, only for him to pull me back.

“You don’t know what I’m talking about, huh? Well, riddle me this…let’s see if you have an answer for this one. YOU SAY YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND, SO WHO THE FUCK ARE ALL THESE OTHER MEN COMING IN AND OUT OF HERE, YOU FUCKING SLUT? I HAVE SACRIFICED SO MUCH TO MAKE SURE YOUR DUMB ASS IS SAFE, BUT YOU’RE IN HERE LETTING ANY AND EVERYBODY CRAWL BETWEEN YOUR FUCKING LEGS. I’VE TRIED TO BE UNDERSTANDING BUT THE WAY YOU’RE ACTING RIGHT NOW IS LIKE YOU DON’T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT ME. AND I’M HERE STILL TRYING TO FUCKING LOVE YOU.”

Profanity, obscenities, and spittle fly from between his clenched teeth to spray onto my face. I’m trying to wiggle and kick my way from under him, but my efforts are futile as I’m easily overpowered. Just as I’m able to get a full breath in, he wraps his thick, massive hands around my neck, cutting off my air supply. “Brandon,” I barely get out as I claw at the skin of his hands and can feel when my nails slice across the smooth, scarred skin on his left hand.

JASON!

I’m beginning to see spots floating in front of my eyes, my kicking and scratching is becoming noticeably weaker. I can feel myself on the verge of passing out, but suddenly I hear commotion coming from all sides. Everything seems to be going in slow motion and even though my ears are ringing, I hear the muffled voices of my loves, Jimin and Namjoon. I can feel their fear; their anger. Their footsteps sound like thunder, booming in my ears and there is another voice that I can’t place.

“HEY, STOP! GET OFF OF HER!”

Jason continues administering force and his surge of obscenities. “I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN BETTER THAN TO CHASE SUCH AN UNDESERVING SLUT LIKE YOU. YOU’RE PROVING THE REPUTATION SURROUNDING YOUR FAMILY NAME TO BE TRUE. EVEN AFTER YOU TRIED TO SEDUCE MY BROTHERS, I STILL TRIED TO LOVE YOU. EVEN AFTER YOU IGNORED MY CALLS, TEXTS, AND ADVANCES. YOU’VE CONTINUED TO SHIT ON ME OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER,” he says the last part of his statement while applying more pressure as if to emphasize the words, tears falling from his face. “AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER, BUT THAT ALL ENDS TODAY. SAY HELLO TO YOUR MOTHER FOR ME,” he adds the last part with a smirk which is the last thing I see.

“CLOSE YOUR EYES,” the new voice yells.

I don’t know if I ever close my eyes or if I temporarily lose my vision as it begins to narrow, clouds of darkness moving in from the edges of my line of sight. Suddenly, there is a loud bang, then warm liquid and pieces of flesh splatter onto my face and into my hair. With the weight on my throat now gone, I gulp in oxygen. Jason collapses partially onto my legs as I continue to gasp for air and begin to cry, flailing in another attempt to get him off of me. Something hard is pressing against my shin, digging into my skin.

“Tia, don’t open your eyes, baby. Come on,” Namjoon says, and I feel him trying to pull me free while lifting the upper half of my body.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Jimin says, his voice coming from down below. I can feel Jason being rolled off of me.

“Go ahead,” the new voice instructs and Namjoon pulls me to my feet, then picks me up to cradle my body in his arms as my legs are much too weak to support myself.

I can hear sirens coming closer, tires screeching, then, the voices of my other men.

“TIA! TIA!” Taehyung’s voice follows us through the house.

“WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED?” Yoongi is not far behind, obviously confused.

“FUCK!!!” I can tell that Jungkook is upset, which is understandable.

With my eyes still closed, Namjoon leads us to the living room where he begins to wipe my face with paper towels being handed to him. Someone else hands him a wet cloth that he wipes my eyes and mouth with, then switches back to paper towels. He repeats this process while the other person helps by running off to refresh the cloth with warm water. He removes my shirt and replaces it with a hoodie and I can smell Jungkook all over the fabric. Detective Lopez and other officers enter the room and I can hear her speaking with Jungkook and the shutter of a camera in the foyer. After a few moments, I can finally open my eyes and the light is blinding. I immediately fall into Namjoon’s arms, tears still forming in my eyes.

“It’s okay, Little. It’s okay.”

Detective Lopez comes over and gives her condolences, not for the dead, but for what I’ve had to endure. She asks me to recount what happened. I give her all the details I can think of right now, and she’s very empathetic to how I’m feeling.

“I can imagine that what you’ve just gone through and what you’ve had to deal with for the past few months is traumatizing. Get some rest. Please, reach out if you remember anything else.”

“Check the truck. You’ll find evidence to connect him with Tony there,” I tell her. She pauses for a slight moment before writing it down and whispers something to a uniformed officer.

“Thank you for your help. Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.”

She goes to get statements from the guys and Namjoon leaves me for a moment to give his. I look over to see Hoseok in the crowd, unsure of when he arrived due to the chaos. The shock and concern are evident in his expression. Jungkook comes over to take Namjoon’s place, his brows furrowed confirming his anger.

“Jungkook, I-,” I begin but he cuts me off.

“Nuh uh. Not now,” he just hugs me, not wanting to hear an explanation or anything right now.

I don’t know how much time has passed, everything feels surreal and moments seem to drag along. Finally, the commotion dies down and all of the officers have gone, leaving only us and the cleaners to do their thing. Namjoon leads me up to our room and into the bathroom.

Once in the bathroom, I look at him and can see blood splatter on his shirt and when I try to look down at his pants, he doesn’t let me, pulling my face to look at him. The tears return as I begin to sob into my hands, covered by the long sleeves of Jungkook’s hoodie.

“Shh shh shh,” he tries to comfort me. “It’s over now, Little. I got you.”

He strips me of my clothes before he shuffles out of his own, then the sound of a trash bag rustling gets closer. Jimin opens the door to collect our soiled clothing, then he closes it again without a word

We step into the shower and allow the warm water to wash over us. In silence, Namjoon rubs at my skin with just water to remove any spray and residue before leaning my head back to rinse my hair in the same manner. He washes my hair several times before he uses my facial and body washes to cleanse me from head to toe to fingertips.

While I can assume what just happened, due to limited vision during the incident as well as in my spiritual vision, I’m not in a place to talk about it. Not right now. I need to sit with this to allow my mind and spirit to catch up, so I’m thankful Namjoon is quietly focused on cleaning me up. I take this time to transmit that thought to everyone else and I know it’s received when Namjoon quietly says, “Okay.”

A/N:

Damn, Tia is going through it! 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨 Did you expect this to happen to her? What are your thoughts? Let me know in the comments!

Thanks, again, to @downbad4yoongi for beta reading this chapter!

[joonslfttiddie]

Rules: Post the last seven sentences you've written, then ag seven people.

I'm late af but ty @downbad4yoongi for the tag!

[Sneak peek at chapter 46 of Home]

Not only have my ancestors given me a peek at the passion the guys and I will hold dearly, they have also informed me the best way to navigate situations to keep us all safe. While I did admit to Jimin that I was keeping something from them in an attempt to prevent something that would end us all, both physically and mentally, I couldn’t go into detail as that would negatively impact our timeline. I also couldn’t let him know of today’s events. 

“Y’all, I’m starving! We don’t have anything to cook for lunch,” I whine while sprawled across the couch.

“We, literally, just had breakfast,” Jungkook chuckles while carelessly rubbing my calf. “There’s no way you’re hungry again already.”

“It’s okay, my baby,” Taehyung says sweetly yet teasingly while rubbing my hair.

I'm tagging @heathfritillary-blog @magicshopaholic @lunarelle1013 @roxyjean82 @13lov @btskitten7 @jessikahathaway (Sorry if you were already tagged.)

tyty for the tag, @emelkae!

rules: post the last seven sentences you've written, then tag seven people.

this was actually never supposed to see the light of day (didn't even make it out of my notes to a doc lmao) so no title for this

How long until he himself is slain in the name of peace across the nation and finally laid to rest in waters marred by his own blood and for once not that of others? Surely the blood should be gone by now. But he can feel it, splashing up to his shoulders. Pouring down his lungs. He is wading in it. How much blood is on his hands? Too much.

open tag ofc!! buuuut for the challenge rules i'm tagging: @perpetualcynicism, @minhxiao, @frankenjoly, @legend-of-cupcake, @thirdleaflogic, @cocrante, @airbluest

[joonslfttiddie]

Home

Chapter 45: Piece of Happiness...

💜Fic Pairing: OT7 x OFC

💜AU/Genre: Reverse Harem/Polyfidelity/Ghosts/AMBW

💜Warnings: Smut/Adult Language/Adult Content

💜Rating: MA

💜Word Count: 4,175

A/N:

Compersion (noun): A feeling of joy when a loved one invests in and takes pleasure from another romantic or sexual relationship. The opposite of jealousy and typically is used in reference to nontraditional or polyamorous relationships.

Yoongi's POV

"No, I'm okay for now. Y'all go ahead. I'm almost done," I tell Tia when she asks if I'd like to come down while she prepares dinner. Don't get me wrong, I am definitely starving but I really want to get this bed done so that she and the guys can rest comfortably tonight. My guys bring up the last few boards, and I send them home for the evening after thanking them for their hard work. Once I'm done nailing the last slat board down, I start to assemble the drawers that will serve as storage in the footboard. When they are complete, I install them on the drawer slides, opening and closing them several times to make sure they have smooth movement. This sprawling bed is equivalent to two king size beds put together, taking up the entirety of one wall, only leaving room for the night stands to fit snuggly between it and the adjacent walls. Thankfully, there is more room in the bedroom, almost like a whole other bedroom is attached. This place is incredible, from the high ceilings, to the gold sconces, beautiful color palette, to the awe-inspiring floor plan.

The way that I've built this bed allows for a platform feel with no need for a box spring to support their current mattress and the new one that was delivered yesterday, being able to rest on the slats. I am a man that knows my limitations and realize that there is no way that I'll be able to get this mattress on the frame or bring the one from the garage up alone. When I'm finished cleaning up my mess and gathering my tools, I head downstairs to ask the guys for help. My foot hits the bottom stair when I overhear their cheerful conversations and joyful laughter. It's a sound that I wish could be bottled up and saved for later, I imagine that this is what heaven sounds like. I drop my things onto the floor after rounding the staircase and head into the kitchen. As if waiting for me to join them, they all greet me with such excitement and so much love.

"Yoongi, come join us," Jimin offers, reaching for my hand while Jungkook reaches for the other.

"Are you finally done? We've been waiting so long," Taehyung adds.

"Yeah, I just finished up and was actually coming down to ask for a hand or two putting the mattresses on."

"That can wait. Come. Sit," Namjoon says.

"You really should eat something. You haven't eaten all day," Tia mentions, putting me on blast.

"WHAT?!" The guys all speak in unison, clearly upset that I've not had a meal.

"No, I did. I had a few tangerines, some water, and-," I say nervously rubbing the back of my neck. I don't even get to finish my sentence before multiple hands are pulling me to sit at the table.

"Why haven't you had a proper meal," Hoseok asks with a frown. "You have to make sure you don't miss meals so that you won't get sick. Here," he says as he places a plate of spaghetti in front of me, grabs my hand, and slides a utensil into it. Even though I love this bunch, it is still awkward to have everyone's focus on me, worrying over me. Before it gets too uncomfortable, everyone goes back to what they were doing as if on cue. Some are bringing food to the table while others are bringing more dinnerware and utensils, napkins, and taking drink orders. They are all busy doing this or that, except for Hoseok, who hasn't left my side since I sat down.

Once everyone's task is done, they come to join us, sitting comfortably around the table. The sound of dishes clinking, more conversations, and laughter fill the space. This is not something I'm used to being that I live alone. Even my dog, Holly, is with my parents as I've been too busy to properly care for him, too swamped with jobs.

"Wow, everything looks delicious and this spaghetti is the best I've had," I compliment before digging in for another bite.

"I'm glad you like it! It's a simple meal but is still one of my favorites," Tia tells me.

"It really is so good. Here, try this too," Namjoon says, placing pieces of steak on my plate.

"Me, too," Taehyung says, wanting Namjoon to share with him as well and he does as Taehyung reaches over to put a piece of fried chicken on my plate next to the steak tips. "Here. You don't have any chicken."

"Sorry about all the random sides. I know they don't really match but we wanted to make sure there was enough for everyone," Tia says. "Speaking of which, who wants to do the grocery run tomorrow?"

Jungkook and Taehyung volunteer, then Jungkook asks, "You coming, Yoongi?"

Even though I understand what this relationship is and its logistics, I'm still caught off guard by the question.

"Huh?" I ask for clarification while almost choking on my drink.

"My bad, I just thought..." he trails off, looking around at the others seemingly afraid that he's made a mistake.

"We didn't get a chance to talk about the next step," Tia tells everyone. "So, we talked about our relationship, things that the rest of us have experienced, and the things that have led up to this point. I didn't get a chance, however, to get your opinion on living arrangements. Of course, we all want you to stay with us, but what is going to make you the most comfortable is what matters."

She is sitting directly in front of me, peering at me while everyone else goes back to their meals. It's like they know how to treat me, understanding that I get uncomfortable under pressure, without me having to say a word. When she offers to speak with me privately, I find my courage and decide to talk as a collective.

"Is that truly something you all want? I really don't want to intrude or be in the way."

"You wouldn't be," Namjoon says, and goes into further details regarding accommodations. "We all have a separate bedroom outside of Tia's, though we don't sleep there, preferring to cozy up together in Tia's bed."

"Our bed," Tia corrects him with a sly grin.

"My bad. Yes, our bed," he says, giving her hand a squeeze. "Our clothes and other belongings are in those bedrooms, though."

"There are, also, bathrooms upstairs that we've used if the main one is occupied. There is another in the basement as well as a couple more bedrooms," Jimin explains.

"So, the bed was built so that we could all fit but there is plenty of space around here and things for you to do if you ever need some alone time," says Jungkook.

"We are in no way trying to talk you into doing something you're not comfortable with, but I think I can speak for everyone when I say we would be thrilled to have you here," Taehyung says, placing his hand on my shoulder.

"Have you decided what you want to do, Hobi?" Jimin asks Hoseok, taking some of the heat off of me.

"I have. Actually, I mentioned to Tia earlier that I would love to stay if you all would have me," he answers. "I would just need to tie up the loose ends back home which will be easy since the lease on my apartment will be up this month. I can probably get that done tomorrow."

"Nice!" Namjoon begins, followed by similar sentiments from the others.

"What are you thinking?" Hoseok asks me.

"I don't know. It's all happening so fast. I told Tia earlier, it all seems too good to be true. Do you guys never get jealous of each other? Is everyone dating each other? I have so many questions right now."

They speak more in detail and patiently answer any of my additional questions. I do, really, want to stay but I also value my time alone, being more introverted than the others. The lease on my apartment ends this month as well, so the timing would be perfect. It's just so much happening at once. Tia is so patient with me and shares more of the knowledge she has acquired regarding polyamorous relationships.

"Polyamory, of course, is being in a relationship with multiple, consenting individuals at one time. Being that there are seven of us now, we are considered a polycule. You guys are not required to do anything you don't want to, including dating or being physical with each other. The guys are used to and understand the pull that brings more love into the house. Correct me if I'm wrong guys, but they seem to experience compersion seeing me meet new people."

"Absolutely! She is so damn cute when I watch her with the other guys or meeting new people. Her joy brings me so much joy," Taehyung confirms and the others agree with various hums and nods.

"So, Tia is like an anchor, being our 'home' of sorts. She is the reason we are all here and is our primary priority," Jimin adds. "There are rules that we choose to abide by," he says while pointing to the other men, "and that is that the relationship is closed. We have no desire to find love or other romantic relationships outside of this polycule. Did I use that word right?"

When Tia nods, his eyes disappear when he smiles with pride. Taehyung winks at him as if congratulating his feat. They are so fucking adorable.

"So, these guys have decided to be my nesting partners," Tia says with air quotes, "who will live here with me. We will share our lives fully, from living arrangements to finances."

"No pressure. I get it if you need to think about it a bit more," Jungkook comforts me. "And solo poly is an option, right, Noona?"

"Of course. You can choose to live independently to come and go as you please."

The way that my true feelings burst out of my mouth is borderline scary, both because it seemed to pop involuntary and because I'm saying it aloud, "I want to!" Fuck, that was loud. I pause for a moment to compose myself. They have not given me any reason to keep this hypothetical wall up and I must admit, I've never felt this secure in a romantic relationship before. "I want to stay, too."

"Yay!" Tia practically jumps from her chair and skips around the table to me. Standing behind my chair, she drapes herself over my shoulders to take my face into her hands, freckling one side of my face with kisses before she kisses my lips. I hear Jungkook and Namjoon whoop loudly while Jimin and Taehyung clap their hands with excitement. Hoseok gently places his hand on my thigh under the table before I take it into my own hand. They sure have the ability to make a man feel wanted, and I've never been more certain of a decision in my life. I guess I'm home, sweet home.

Hoseok's POV

Meeting Yoongi was like looking into Tia's eyes for the first time; comfortable, loving, and magnetic. The grip on my heart is like a vice and the lust I have for them burns, scorching my body from within. I'm not saying that I love him more than the other guys, but it is definitely different. I could have orgasmed just from touching his hand earlier, the feelings so overwhelming and intense. I'm so glad that he's decided to stay with us. I was afraid for a moment that he was going to decline.

After dinner, I volunteer to do the dishes which are in a hot, soapy bath that Taehyung prepared. Even though Tia mentioned that he did the dishes this morning, he still offers to stay and help me while the others do their own thing.

"You really don't have to help me. Tia said that you've done the dishes today already. I just want to help out, you know? Earn my keep around here," I say jokingly but also meaning it wholeheartedly.

"No worries. I want to. Doing the dishes is therapeutic for me, plus, I get to spend some one-on-one time with you. I can't turn that down."

Not me blushing, now knowing that Taehyung has been wanting to spend time with me.

"Yes, it does seem like we haven't really been alone. I'm sure it's because I just joined you all and was in the introduction stage. Do you usually get to spend time with the other guys?"

"Yes, we all get to spend quality time together. Me and JK play video games and I watch movies in the theater with Jimin. Earlier, I was able to chill with Namjoon in the library," Taehyung shares.

Curiosity eats at me and I can't help but question him, "Do you guys ever-?"

"Ever what? Are you asking if we have sex?"

"W-well," his directness along with his deep voice and piercing stare makes me feel bashful under his gaze. "Yes. Do you guys have sex? Are you attracted to the other men?"

"No, we've not had sex but we are intimate when we're with Tia. I am, absolutely, attracted to the others and you. You are all so beautiful, how could I not be? There is no rule saying that we can't be together if we want, it just hasn't happened yet."

We finish up our chore while speaking about this and that. The conversation is comfortable like talking to an old friend. I rinse the last of the dishes that he then places into the dishwasher. We wipe down the countertops and stove, then sweep the floor as this is what 'cleaning the kitchen' consists of, Taehyung mentions Tia's statement from a previous conversation.

"She's super chill and doesn't ask for much, but I notice that her mood can change a bit if things aren't clean. I think clutter makes her feel overwhelmed and frazzled. That's another reason I don't mind cleaning; I want to do my part to keep her happy. She's been through so much and deserves to live a soft life."

I'm falling in love with the look in his eyes as he's mentioning Tia and I want him to be just as happy as she is. I consciously vow to make sure that I also do my part to keep that expression on all of their faces.

Jimin's POV

I am the type of person that observes, clocks things, but keeps it all to myself until others are ready to express themselves. So when I see Hoseok reach over to rest Yoongi's thigh, I look at Tia. She saw it too, judging by the knowing smirk on her face and that twinkle of mischief in her eye. I wonder what is going on between them and when she looks over at me, I raise a questioning brow to which she smiles fully.

When we finish our meals and clear the table of its dishes, Hoseok and Taehyung stay behind to clean the kitchen, Jungkook goes upstairs to shower, and Namjoon takes Yoongi on a tour of his new home. I am so excited that there will be more people to share my love with, but right now, I need to talk to Tia.

"Come here," I whisper to her and lead her down the stairs into the basement.

"What? Boy, what are you doing?"

"Well, there are a couple of things I'm curious about," I confess once we make it to the bottom of the stairs, while rubbing the back of my neck, suddenly nervous to bring this up. I really don't want to make things weird or disrupt the peace we have in this house. At the same time, she is the love of my life and I've decided to dedicate my life to her and the fellas. I should be able to be my true self and be honest with them all. "Fuck, I'm gonna grab a drink. Would you like something?"

"Honestly, I've been craving some red wine," she mentions while making her way to the theater area, taking a seat on one of the comfy chairs. "I don't know if I've developed an aversion to it after being poisoned, but I'm afraid to drink it. Does that make sense?"

"That makes perfect sense," I say while making my way to the bar area. "I'll pour you a glass from one of the bottles I brought from my house if you want."

"Yes, let's try that. If it's coming from you, I know I'll be fine."

"I figured you'd be reluctant to drink anything from the cellar. I hope you don't mind, but I threw all of the wine bottles and liquor bottles that looked tampered with away. Also any bottles that looked like they could be easily contaminated. I did bring all of the bottles I've been saving from home and I plan on replacing the ones I tossed."

"I don't mind at all. I'm touched to know that you thought about me and wanted to make sure I felt safe. You are so stinking sweet and I love you so much."

I round the corner with two glasses and the bottle of wine, nearly prancing from the affection she's expressed for me.

"Awww, babe. I love you, too!" It's not the first time I've heard it, but it makes me giddy just the same. I lean over to kiss her glossy lips before I take my seat next to her and open the bottle. "Here you go," I say and hand her the stemless glass. My heart warms when I watch her take a sniff of the liquid and close her eyes before bringing it to her plump lips. Watching her savor the drink as it washes over her tongue is damn near orgasmic and I'm trying not to drool at the sight.

"Oh my God, Jimin. This is so good and it's been so long, I could cry," she says jokingly but there is some truth behind her eyes.

"I'm glad you like it. I know how you love a good red wine so I can imagine it being tough being afraid to drink it. I'm glad I could bring you a little piece of happiness."

"A little piece? Just you being here fills my heart with so much joy," she says and leans over for another kiss.

Fuck! I want her so bad right now. Her lips, her skin is so fucking soft! Oh shit, I hope she doesn't notice.

I swear that she could just breathe in my direction and my dick would stand to salute her. I really hope she doesn't realize there's a bulge in my pants from just a little kiss. I've gotta stay focused as there are things I want to talk to her about. Taking a swig from my own glass, I think of the best way to approach the topic.

"I wanted to talk to you about last night. When we were watching that shit movie Jungkook picked, I noticed that you were a bit out of it. Your expression looked troubled, pissed even, and for some reason I feel like you're hiding something from us, like there is something you're purposely keeping from us."

"I can't sit here and say that's not true, Jiminie. There are things that I've seen in visions that I'm trying to prevent from happening. Please trust me on this and know that I will tell you all eventually, just not right now. I promise."

"I trust you baby, with all my heart. I just don't want you to struggle or suffer alone. That's what we're here for; to love you, care for you, and lessen your stress the best we can. If that means something as small as me sitting here so that you can vent, I'll do that."

"Jimin, baby, I really do appreciate you being concerned but just know that everything will be okay. I've seen things, heartbreaking things, and the only way I can stop those things from happening is to remain silent about this; at least for now. I hope you understand, in no way am I trying to be secretive," she rambles, trying to explain herself.

"Babe. Babe...shhh. I get it. You don't have to explain yourself. If this is the process you have to take, then do that. I am not questioning your honesty, I'm just worried about you," I say, placing my glass next to my feet before turning my whole body to face her, cupping my hand around hers which are still wrapped around her glass. "You don't have to share anything that you're not comfortable with, whether it pertains to your visions, your knowledge, or anything else. And with that being said," I pause a moment, looking down at our hands. "You saw it, too, earlier."

"Why, whatever do you mean?"

I look back into her eyes, amused at her trying to skate around my statement.

"You know exactly what I mean. So, is that a thing or...?"

"Hey, it's not my business to tell but I will say that I've seen that they both will be very happy here with us."

"So, you knew Yoongi would decide to stay?"

She just smiles, remaining tight-lipped, before saying, "I would hate to spoil the ending for you", then winks before kissing me one last time. I don't consider myself nosy or a gossip, so the information, or lack thereof, that she's provided will have to do. As long as they are happy, I'm fine with anything and honestly I'm just taken aback being that we've not experienced another couple within our relationship. If I'm being truly honest with myself, I've had similar thoughts. I know I could have just talked to her about it but all of this still feels weird to me. I wonder if she's seen things about me. About my desires.

Tia's POV

Yes. I saw it, but way before Jimin did. When I looked into Yoongi's eyes, I saw that he will experience a beautiful love with Hoseok. While the love we share is strong and the love they have for the others is undeniable, their love will be something special. I am over the moon and so excited to be able to experience it with them. I think by answering Jimin the way I did, it will provide privacy for Hoseok and Yoongi while also answering the questions that rest unasked beneath his eyes. I have not seen what lies ahead for him, but I can feel his hunger as well as his uncertainty. I want to maintain the trust amongst us all, allowing us to feel secure and safe to be our authentic selves. And I will do the same for Mr. Sassy Pants if he decides to date within our relationship.

Jimin has my heart and I don't think he realizes how big of a gesture and how much he touched my heart by cleaning out the wine cellar. While it may have been a small act in his mind, for me it means so much more. As a mental health professional, I can definitely see signs of PTSD within myself from my experience with those brothers, but knowing that my men care so much for me and are attentive enough to recognize and want to combat the symptoms melts me.

I've not spoken to the guys about my past before meeting them, only focusing on our present and future, but I've not had a partner to care for me or treat me so tenderly before. And if I'm being sincere, it is taking some getting used to.

I can understand what Yoongi meant when he said that this all seems too good to be true. If I hadn't seen glimpses of our future, I would be skeptical, too, waiting for the other shoe to drop. I guess my ancestors know me better than I know myself and knew that I would need to see at least a peek of the intimacy and love we will experience for each other. Even when I have my moments of doubt or possible self-sabotaging actions, a comfort comes over me that allows me to lean into the love the guys are providing instead of pushing them away out of fear of getting hurt. Every time they kiss me,all of my doubts and worries disappear, being replaced with excitement and anticipation for our many days to come.

A/N:

Thank you so much to @downbad4yoongi for beta reading this chapter!

[joonslfttiddie]

THE CASTLE

💕Pairing: Taehyung x Female Reader

📝Summary:

A resting time becomes a game of seduction that has you almost wanting to crawl walls.

✏️Genre/au: Canon, Romance, Smut, Married life

✏️Rating: PG 18+, explicit

📝Wordcount: 3005

⚠️Warnings: Smut, explicit smut, breeding kink, trying to conceive, frustrating seduction

Hii! Did you stumble a cross this work? Glad yo're here 😊 Please, let me know your thoughts once you are finished. Feedback keeps me motivated to write 😁

Note that English is not my first language, so please if you find grammar mistakes, let me know. :)

You look at yourself with the inner camera of your phone as you apply some colour at the center of your lips to make them look more appealing while lying on the fake grey, fur carpet, next to the crackling fireplace. You lean slightly on your side to show off he curve of your hips as you dab on the lipstick accurately, then lean back on your belly and bounce your feet, crossed at the ankles, knowing his full attention is on you. His white tee pressed over your curves in that position, being all you are wearing over the intricate grey set of lingerie that he gifted you randomly before the trip, probably the ones to blame for keeping him focused.

Still, you don’t look at him.

There's no need to. You know he’s sitting with one leg over the other, with a neutral demeanour, those big eyes perceiving your every move. The tension, a vibrating danger in the dead silence room, only interrupted by the background sound of the fire and the metallic sound of a spoon repeatedly hitting the walls of the ceramic cup he holds in his hands, is making your body stay on alert. 

You know he won't move; not yet. But your awareness of your surroundings makes you sensitive to each one of his slight movements. 

Through the corner of your eye, you catch the image of him sitting down on one of the plain upholstery, nineteenth-century chairs about eight feet away from you. He is dressed in tight-fitted black trousers and a combo of patterned, loose-fit shirts inspired by the 00s with an open chest and a matching hairband from the 60s or 70s, keeping his hair away from his face. Even with that slight glimpse, he’s breathtaking and your skin sizzles.

You thank the stylist for her pick of a mullet for his black hair, this time. He looks stunning with any change but black makes him look especially good, more intense and mysterious. Just as if his unpredictable personality could get accentuated by the shade of his hair.

The power he’s letting you hold over him at this very moment is also kind of unexpected. But, he knows you’ve earned a little teasing revenge after all he’s been doing to you since you’ve arrived at the castle-looking cottage. 

For things like his hands roaming over your body, pressing his hardness against your sweet cheeks or one of your thighs, without moving, but still tormenting you in your sleep. Staying there, until the whole sexual energy emanating from him wakes you up; only to leave as soon as your lashes flutter and your eyes slowly open to chase his retreating figure.

Maybe, for cornering you around the house, acting as if he wants to kiss you but he then turns and leaves without a word. Or when he makes you sit on counters, bureaus or tables to tease with his hands underneath your clothes, only to inspect and acknowledge which set of lingerie you were hiding. 

Or the cherry on top, when this morning he has imprisoned you against the kitchen counter as you prepared some rolls for lunch, pressing his hard-on against your ass, once more making your body ache. Finally managing to surrender your cool with you abandoning your task, rolling your hips against his body to create as much friction as possible. And your hands still dusted on flour, undoing the front buttons of your dress to reveal your underwear; a satin purple set that he normally can’t resist.

Your need leads you to take his hands away from the counter and place them over your boobs, causing him to lose his breath and involuntarily close them to feel the breasts, noticing the fabric of the only set you have in that material. Without ignoring it but not letting your pride feel satisfied with it, you've made him explore, guiding his hands over your ribs and waist until he finds your pelvic area, sliding one of them over your core to indirectly ask him to claim it. This time, a low grunt has escaped his throat and you’ve thought you got him. 

His hands have gone up your waist, bending you over the counter while grinding against your covered core from behind. Low sounds still coming from him, making you want him so badly that you moan in need yourself; you really thought you did. Not giving a damn about the rolls, that surely were going to get ruined if he was to take you in that position, all you have been able to think of was him taking you right there and then. 

Against your deepest desires, he’s done exactly the same as he has since you arrived. He leaves while taking a deep breath and pushing his hair backwards. Without even looking back; enraging you, frustrating you.

It feels like a bad joke that he rented a whole damn look-alike castle for a week to be alone and play you around, instead of fucking you in every room possible. Yet, he has been acting like that for the length of four days during the time he hasn't been working, only stirring your unwillingness to beg and it's exasperating. So you have decided to make him pay. 

You’ve waken up this morning with a mission. You’ve waved him goodbye through the open door as he went inside the car and as soon as you’ve closed the door behind yourself with a huff of air, you’ve run upstairs. You’ve taken a short shower with cold water to help your skin stay tight and give a boost to your boobs. After using hydrating products for your body and face, you have sat in front of the vanity completely naked. You’ve used the most fainted make-up possible and done your hair using its natural form with products that make it shine bright under the light of the fire. You know after working on yourself for the almost two of the three hours he’s been out you look at the level of a goddess.

You’ve also had time to prepare his favourite cocoa and left it on one of the adorned jars provided in the kitchen with its lit, over a silver tray, right next to where he’s sitting before he messaged you that he was coming back. However, before he’s gotten to this side of the cottage, you’ve had him following notes from the entrance, showing him around the house with a trail of candles; leaving your clean underwear visible with the drawer open, in your room. You've taken your sweet time placing them to guide him to this spot and to find you here, on the floor, ignoring him.

Done with the waiting, that still feels eternal, you throw the lipstick away and lick your finger to clean it up seductively, then roll to your back looking at your phone above you. You know how tempting you look and extending your arms to the sides, you let the phone fall from your grasp with a sigh before you turn around again; upper weight on your elbows and hands locked together as you let the side of your head lean on them while looking down. You let a few seconds pass by, flicker your lashes and take a deep breath before looking up at him in that almost innocent pose. 

He puts his cup aside immediately and you know you’ve won.

Ceremoniously, like stretching you get on your hands and knees to crawl to him, feeling like a panther. His head go slightly backwards and his Adam’s apple moves up and down, letting you know you hold as much power over him as you feel you do.

As you reach him, you put your hands over his knees going slowly up as he leans toward for a kiss but your chin goes down opening your eyes before he reaches you, making him open his too, surprised. A dark look in them calls a warning on your behaviour, yet you tease him once again acting as if you were going to kiss him, closing your eyes and then moving away the moment they are about to touch. 

Fed up he grabs your face with both hands and kisses you fiercely, his tongue sliding into your mouth very fast when you gasp, making yours surrender. You lose your breath and he uses your moment of weakness to lower you to the floor, leaning over you with his hands at the sides of your shoulders. 

When his mouth goes down your chin and he allows his weight over your body, leaning his forearms above your head, you gasp for air; aching for his ministrations, breath soon turning into moans as he nibbles on your jawline and kisses your neck wetly, open-mouthed. By the time he grinds, you're already a mess and a high-pitched, low-voiced moan escapes the back of your throat.

"You look so beautiful like this," he whispers into the crook of your neck while a hand makes its way through your body and pushes up the shirt before leaning back a little bit to see what you're wearing. That same hand massages your boob on that side while he grinds on you repeatedly, while making push-like grunts, playfully. "Makes me... want to... be inside... of you… so bad..." 

With your hands, you reach in between your bodies and unbuckle his belt. "Do it…" you demand, against his ear. Then you feel his hand trace your waist from the ribs to the hips before it reaches to grab your shameless one and pin it at the wrist above your head, putting his weight on the elbow as he moves his other arm to do the same with the other. He keeps both your hands there with the left, while the right moves between your bodies to end what you started as he hums to every movement playfully against your ear and you can feel his eyes on you during the process.

With that, he leans against your core. The skin of your thighs raising goosebumps at the touch of his bare manhood. You spread wider involuntarily and you feel his wide smirk against your jaw before he starts kissing and biting your neck again. His hand then reaches to your covered core, a smirk never leaving his lips.

"So wet…” he whispers with a raspy tone. “it has transferred…” then points out, satisfied. “Hmmm… so mine…" he says before love-biting your neck. But the roll of your hips up against his hand to feel a little relief stops erases his smirk and he scolds. "Patience…" he says in a low tone as if bothered, warning you.

"Patience??" you fight back underneath him, he leans backwards to look at you darkly. "Four days-!" you start but can't continue as you feel him pulling your underwear from the middle to the side and his member intrude past your entrance, making you gasp.

Even with how wet you are, it stings a little but the delight of his form pressed against your walls numbs it. His eyes closing as he slides inside, lips parting, feeling you with his body, it's a sight that fills you and hits somewhere in your ego. The way he leans his body against yours, using the contact as a stimulus, while feeling every little detail of you with his form stretching your inner muscles with its thickness, a bliss.

His knowledge of you, very well played, as he pushes himself to reach the edge of your body, making you speak. "Taehyung…"

His efforts then are put against your throat as he tries to calm himself down from the peak that those four days have made him reach so quickly. He's had to hold himself back from fucking the life out of you with every breath you took around him during those days and it’s not been easy. It was as if he was not only aware of the days that were getting near but also sensing them like a wolf scenting his female’s heat. 

His wish to be a dad had been the reason for him to rent the luxury home, out of the hotel, away from the members, just for the two of you to have some time out of your stressful lives and give yourselves a better chance to conceive. He'd been looking at your period app to know your fertile days since you two talked about starting to try for a baby, but despite his effort to be especially enthusiastic during those times, within six months nothing has happened yet. 

He takes one deep breath before he starts to move inside of you and your hips go up involuntarily to ease his access, eager to let him do fill you to the brim. With his arms holding his weight above your head, he kisses you as he moves inside, every time more intensely as he tries to figure out the right pace for you but soon loses control over himself with the moans escaping your mouth to his. He groans in frustration, taking a little pause breathing in and out, trying to get his head somewhere else, away from the idiotising sensitivity of his member being wrapped around by your walls.

When he starts to move again, your body feels powerful underneath him as his shaft moves in and out of your body but at the same time, his size makes you feel fragile, as if he could split you in two through the pressure. His sweetened mouth plays an extra to your senses, making your eyes stay closed involuntarily, overwhelmed, as your mind tries to process it all. 

As he separates his lips from yours, you can't avoid opening your eyes and looking down the way his tummy is against yours, preventing you from seeing the union but as he notices you peeking down, he raises slightly to let you see; noticing the way you bite your lower lip at the sight. 

“Kinky…” he whispers in your ear as he smoothly leans over you again, pushing harder inside of you. You can feel his smirk in his words against the skin of your cheek and your whole face tingles. 

With your hands still above your head, you feel a vulnerability that’s addictive with him. You’ve learned some of his patterns but sex always seems like a brand new thing when he decides to be especially dominant. And even with his thrusts being slow, the intensity put into them makes you gasp little moans.  Both his hands take each wrist and he puts them at the side of your head, using his forearm to hold his weight as he pushes as further, as deep as he can. 

“Tae-” you say, after a low moan that you tried to muffle by closing your mouth.

“Hm-” he mutters in your ear, letting the need of you breathe out his tone. Both of you with your eyes closed, only allowing yourselves to feel. “Fuck-” Blinded by the lust, he pushes himself inside of you fiercely, catching a pace, and you moan again, almost letting your body limp to the sensation. 

“Tae…” you mutter between his pounding, reassuring him.

Once more his head hides in the crook of your neck, while burying himself deep in your core repeatedly with a low set of grunts, you start moaning open-mouthed, motivating him to hit your spot more precisely and make you reach your end. He kisses you, pulling your lower lip as he keeps his agonizing pace, making you wrap your legs around his waist since you can’t hug him; the sound of flesh against flesh filling the room. His lips move down to your throat again, marking a hickey on it and your collarbones, making you press your eyes tight by the little sting. He stops doing it but his lips are part against your skin, raising your awareness of his gaze from underneath, as if expecting something. 

You know the kind of look he must have because it’s stuck in your memory like a piece of art. He suddenly locks any space left between your bodies letting your wrists go and putting his arms above your head as his hips keep colliding against yours with a precision that overwhelms you; having to put your hands on his back and shoulders from underneath as a response, to take hold as you feel like falling.

Like breaking you from inside, taking your breath away making your eyes grow wide, it hits. For how much he knows the way your body reacts when you're unravelled, he sets himself loose and keeps thrusting in you without holding his own release back; really needing it. Hopes put on his aim.

When your orgasm's pleasure decreases, you ease his efforts by raising your hips and latching a leg over the back of his thighs; making him show his teeth completely lost on his effort and his desire, a sudden slow down on his pace and a warmer sensation inside of you being self-explanatory. His thrusts turn deep and precise, making you feel him at your cervix while his seed spills directly into your womb. 

You hug him tightly, kissing his neck and jaw lovingly even when he stops moving; unwilling to get out and off of you, he caresses your thigh and kisses your forehead, with the same sentiment. 

After a couple minutes, he allows himself to fall at your side but drags you with him making you lie down next to him over the fluffy carpet, with one leg over his hip after he pulls up his underwear. A shower would do both of you some good but the sound of his breath and his heart through his chest to your ear is soothing; the touch of your hair against his long beautiful fingers tricks him into slumber too. 

In your dreams you see a white tiger leave a yellow pumpkin in front of you before he sits to be patted.

I hope you enjoyed this. Let me know your thoughts and reblog to let it spread 😊 See you soon! ~

I want to thank @colormepurplex2 for helping with the banner 💜

I also want to thank @abitjess and IzabellePark for the beta work 💜

[joonslfttiddie]

Home

Chapter 44: Nice to Meet You...

💜Fic Pairing: OT7 x OFC

💜AU/Genre: Reverse Harem/Polyfidelity/Ghosts/AMBW

💜Warnings: Smut/Adult Language/Adult Content

💜Rating: MA

💜Word Count: 3,862

Tia’s POV

At this point, I’m nearly salivating, worse than Pavlov and all them fucking dogs. Like yeeeeeeees! Talk to me rough, but handle me gently, Mr. Min!

“Well?” Yoongi pulls me from my thoughts, laughing at my reaction.

“Huh?”

“I asked, what would I do in your bed? You have like 15 boyfriends already. I’m sure they keep you busy,” he teases.

I scoff but can’t help laughing at his smart-ass mouth. “I have four, for your information, possibly six. I honestly don’t know yet.”

“Oh, excuse me!”

Seeing that bright, gummy smile on his face makes me so happy, and I pray that I will be able to see it forever, with me only adding to his joy. We continue to giggle and jab at each other for a moment longer before I take the conversation on a more serious route.

“But for real, there is something about us, about me, that you don’t know.”

“What? Are you a witch or something? Have I been bewitched by you?” I know he’s joking but he doesn’t realize just how spot-on he is.

“Umm, I wouldn’t call myself a witch but I am definitely…different. So, whenever I met each of my boyfriends, my body knew that we belonged together before I did. It’s as if my intuition nudges at me, signaling that the men I’m fated to love are near. I’m not trying to scare you away, but I already know that you know what feeling I’m talking about.”

He stares at me blankly, only giving himself away by his mouth falling open in shock.

“Yo, what the fuck? Yes, I felt this love-drunk-like excitement as soon as we pulled into your driveway. It damn near knocked me over when Namjoon opened the door. It was so overwhelming. And you,” he pauses as if trying to collect himself. “Fuck, Tia, I thought I was going crazy. As soon as I laid eyes on your face, I knew that I wanted to love you, nah…I needed to love you; I needed to be loved by you. And when you touched me…oh my fucking God. It’s like the world stopped and it was only me and you in that moment. You, the guys…you feel like love personified. Like home.”

“Wow, you described our love so beautifully. That’s how the others have explained their experiences as well. They also say that the feelings remain genuine and strong, but they aren’t as overwhelming the more time we spend together.”

“So what does all of this mean? What does it mean for me? Like, am I also a chosen one?” He chuckles but I know he’s dead serious, only using his humor to lighten the mood.

“I would say so, seeing as we all can feel the tug; can feel you. This means that we are likely fated to love one another, and if you decide to accept our feelings for you, then we live so we love. Please, don’t think that there is any pressure, but we would love for you to become a member of our little family.”

I continue, letting him know about how things have progressed with the other guys, reassuring him that we will have our own special connection and relationship. As he’s still working, I even tell him that the others have done some sexual things when we’re together but not alone. Basically, just filling him in on how things have been thus far.

“We are just dedicated to being honest with each other and always lead with love. We have thrown societal standards out the window to follow our hearts, which are pulling us all here, with this house sort of acting as a hub.”

I go on to share my experiences thus far with the gifts I’ve recently gained, explaining how it runs in my bloodline and things that I’m doing to harness them better.

“So, you saw that you would meet Hoseok, and it played out exactly as you saw it. Does that mean you saw me, too?”

“No, actually, my last meditation session was shorter than I would have liked but I’m sure had I stayed tapped in, I would have.” We stay silent for nearly half an hour with him mulling over what I have shared and me not wanting to sell him this fantasy, wanting him to choose this for himself just as the others have. I just watch him work, moving around the floor on his knees until he speaks up.

“Tia, this all seems too good to be true, you know? I’m apprehensive only because I want this with you…with the guys. I’ve wanted this type of happiness for so long, but I’m afraid that I’ll let my guard down and give you my all, only for the happiness to be snatched away from me.”

My intuition tells me that he’s fighting with his inner thoughts and demons.

“Say more. Talk to me,” I reassure him by placing my hand on his back, using my fingertips to rub small circles along his muscles through the thin fabric of his shirt. 

And lo and behold, he opens up, telling me all of the things I already suspected. I let him speak and get all of that negativity out before I move to kneel in front of him, and he pauses, arranging himself to sit back on his heels, focusing on me. I take his face into my hands, just like mom used to do my sister and me, and I gaze past his eyes. This is my first attempt at trying to land in a place most people can’t see. It’s like looking at layers of an onion, and I explore each level until I’m in the right area. Here, I can see him with a lotus flower blooming in his chest, where his heart would be. This signifies that by finally speaking out about his past, his heart is now clearer, softer, and more open. 

“Wow,” I can’t help but murmur, experiencing this new ability.

I appreciate his honesty as I’m the first person he’s opened up to like this. I can also see so many happy days in his near future and so on, the feeling is so strong. I make a conscious effort not to go too far into this void, not wanting to see the details of his life. I would rather live and witness those moments alongside him. I try to stay on this frequency, only detecting his mood and how his heart will feel.

Wait… is that-?

I can’t help but chuckle now after knowing how much joy he’s about to experience.

“Oh, baby. I can tell that today will be your last day of uncertainty, and there is so much love and happiness waiting for you. All of the love you deserve and the individuals who are worthy of the love you’re ready to provide are right at your fingertips,” I reassure him, unaware of my own tears until he wipes one away. He sets the nailer onto the floor and now takes my face in his hands, leans in, and kisses me so tenderly yet passionately. His tongue technology extracts more of my essence, which leaks to settle in the crotch of my panties; I can only imagine what else it can do. My desire for him is burning a hole through every fiber of my being. I pull him closer, moaning into his mouth. I need him so badly, and when he moves his hands to rest on my hips, he’s clenching my dress in his fists, letting me know he feels the same way.

Completely inebriated off of each other, we are not concerned about the possibility of someone walking in on us. He pulls me with him as he takes a seat on the floor. I follow, moving to straddle his lap, but he shifts me to mount just one thigh. While I am confused, I stay there, kissing him deeply. I can feel his penis rock hard against my leg. I can imagine how good he will feel deep inside my walls and the heat that has gathered in the pit of my stomach begins to ignite. He grazes the roof of my mouth with the tip of his tongue, again, and again, and again, causing me to moan even more. My arms are wrapped around his neck and my grip on his body strengthens as I’m beginning to lose every ounce of self-control. I’m at the point where I’m willing to do almost anything to be able to cum. 

“Are you still horny, love?” Yoongi speaks into my mouth between kisses. “From what I saw earlier, you’ve cum several times today.” 

“More,” I answer hungrily.

Without a word, his hands on my hips guide me to rub my thinly covered pussy on his leg, and I do so without hesitation. He continues the motion with one hand while the other reaches up to fondle my breast through my clothing. Yoongi moves to suck vigorously at my neck, then licks a stripe up my throat, sending shocks to my core over and over again. Moaning and holding on for dear life, I continue to grind against him. I’m almost there.

“Okay, love, it’s time to cum for me. Are you ready?”

“Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Please,” I answer as the friction against my clit is about to push me over the edge.

He holds my body securely against him, providing a feeling of safety with his face buried in the crook of my neck, and then begins to do something I’ve never experienced before.

“I’m going to count you down,” he says before continuing to kiss and lick my skin. “I’ll start at 10,” he smooches, “and when I get to 1, you get to cum,” he informs me. “But not a second before that,” he says against my neck, then resumes hungrily sucking and tasting me. “Understand?”

“Yes. Yes.”

He smacks a firm hand against my ass and I whimper. My pussy clenches around nothing as he now caresses my booty cheek, soothing the spot he has just slapped.

“Whenever we’re together like this, you will respect me. Maybe I’m starting out too easy on you.”

“No, no! I’m sorry. Please,” I’m begging at this point as the finish line is approaching and he has yet to start counting, the sting on my ass only exacerbating my current state.

“Do you understand, Tia?” He hisses through clenched teeth.

“Yes, sir, Mr. Min. I understand,” I moan out.

“Very good, love. So you can listen.”

He, then, begins slowly counting backward, interrupting the sequence only to sing my praises. His breath tickles and cools the places already painted with his saliva as I’m riding him faster and faster, chasing my high.

“10...Good girl. 9…Ride my thigh, just like that. 8…You’re doing such a good job. 7…You’re almost there. Hold it for me. 6…You’re doing so good, love. 5…You sound so fucking pretty. Louder. 4…Not yet. Not just yet. 3…You’re listening so well. Almost there, baby. 2…You’re so fucking wet. You hear that? That pretty pussy sounds so juicy. 1…Give it to me. Cum, baby.”

“Holy shi-,” I attempt, being interrupted by a guttural moan that is released before I even realize it.

I would have never thought that I could cum so hard from a man’s thigh, yet here I am, now collapsed on his shoulder, trembling and shaking on Yoongi’s lap. He’s rubbing his hand up and down my back as I’m coming down.

“You did so good, love…so good. I’ve got you,” he says, pulling me to sit up so that he can kiss my lips slowly and softly. His tongue grazes against mine. Releasing my lips with a smooch, he allows me to lie back down on his shoulder. “Was that too much? Did I hurt you?”

“No, I loved it,” I answer. “That was amazing and I must admit, I have never done that before.”

“Well, I’m glad we are able to share something that’s new for the both of us. This can be our thing from now on. That is if you will allow there to be another time.”

“What?” I perk up, sitting upright now and can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. “Are you saying-?”

“Yes, the feeling is undeniable and after coming here, I don’t think I can live another day without you in my life.”

Yoongi comes off timid and quiet at first, but that demon I’ve only gotten a glimpse of will be hell, and I can’t wait to see him at his worst.

“So, does this make you my girlfriend now?”

“If that’s what you want me to be, then yes.”

“How the fuck am I going to explain that I fell in love with a client and she became my girlfriend in the same day? There’s no way anyone will believe this.”

“Explain it to who? You and I both know that your parents will be ecstatic just to see you happy. Outside of them, who cares what other people think? If anyone asks, just tell them you don’t want to discuss your private life; no need to put a label on things to make others comfortable.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Wait…how do you know that my parents will be happy?” I can see when he mentally answers his own question. “You saw it, didn’t you? In my eyes?” His eyes are full of wonder, hoping for another fact about his future. “What all did you see?”

Hoseok’s POV

I am filled with pride as I explain to my parents that I’ve met someone, which is the reason I came home in the wee hours of the morning. While we’re on the topic, I let them know that they shouldn’t wait up for me tonight, either. Still gushing over Tia, I refrain from going into much detail about the guys at the moment. It is not because I’m ashamed of the situation, possibly entering into a poly relationship, but rather because I want to make sure this is really real. It is for me as I’m ready to jump in head first, throwing caution to the wind.

I opt to leave Mickey home today in hopes of really getting to know everyone without the responsibility of caring for him…or burdening Taehyung with it. Since the house is only a few doors down, I throw on a thin shirt, jacket and hat before leaving and walk over. As I’m getting closer, I notice workers out front cutting and sanding boards.

Are they here to build the bed Namjoon had mentioned?

When I ring the bell, Namjoon answers and hugs me once I’m inside, the embrace and the amazing sweetness that fills the air cause my heart to race. 

“There’s no need to ring. Just come in next time. The code is 0613,” he says.

“Will do, thanks. Is someone baking cookies?” I ask him, not trying to be humorous, but the statement causes him to laugh out loud, nonetheless.

He calls out for Tia, who comes beaming and bouncing happily down the stairs. Her dress is made of a light fabric that dances and sways as she moves. In combination with her cute little bare feet thumping against the hardwood, she looks so beautiful,  adorable, and carefree.

“Hobi!!!”

My name jumps from her lips with a shriek of excitement, which is extremely contagious, causing me to smile even bigger. She crashes into me, causing me to jolt slightly, and then she molds against my chest as if God created her to fit perfectly against me. She then wraps her arms around my torso and I hug her back. When she looks up at me, I squish her cheeks between both palms, which causes her lips to pucker like a fish and I take the chance to place the gentlest smooch against them. Standing on her tiptoes, she returns my affection, sweetly peppering my face with kisses…at least the parts she can reach.

I hug her again, holding her against my body before joking, “What kind of welcome is this? I thought you would be excited to see me.”

The three of us laugh at my sarcasm before Namjoon, as if out of habit, grabs her ass from behind her, then trails his fingertips along her side to hold her hip. Like the most powerful laser, his stare burns into me, making me hot in more ways than one. He kisses the top of her head and then disappears into the library.

“I am very excited to see you! I missed you so much,” Tia says, still obviously excited. “Was that you that rang the bell? Please, feel free to just come in next time,” she reiterates what Namjoon said and repeats the code.

We’ve detached from each other, but only briefly, as I remove my coat and fuzzy hat.

“I will do that, baby girl, thank you. I missed you, too. You and the guys have been on my mind since I woke up,” I confess. “Where is everyone else?”

“They are all around here somewhere,” she lets me know.

After a short pause I ask, “So, are those guys outside here to make your bed?”

“Yes! I’m so excited. Come with me, I want you to meet someone,” Tia says, then drags me behind her up the stairs, and once we’re at the top, that familiar feeling comes over me even stronger than when Namjoon hugged me. “Yoongi! This is Hobi, who I mentioned to you earlier.”

The man puts down his tool and stands to greet me, clapping his hands together to remove any debris before reaching out for mine. I can’t help but notice a wet spot on his pants, but I don’t call attention to it. How can a man look so small yet so fucking sexy at the same time? I can feel the love I have for the other guys, but there’s something different with him.

“Hobi, what’s up? Nice to meet you,” his deep voice travels into my ears and straight to my dick. We shake hands and when he touches me, I feel like I could melt into the palm of his hand. I can only assume he feels the same, judging by how his eyes go wide and the gasp that escapes his throat.

Fuck.

“Yoongi,” I say, savoring the taste of his name on my tongue. “Nice to meet you, too,” I say, then look questioningly at Tia who nods as if confirming what my eyes are asking. I let go of his slightly callused hand to place my own over my heart in an attempt to stop it from leaping out of my chest. I’ve been here less than 30 minutes and have decided to tell my parents about them all; meeting Yoongi has sealed the deal for me. He looks like he wants to either run out of the room or jump out of the nearest window, that is, until Tia gently takes his hand into hers. His ‘deer in headlights’ expression vanishes within the blink of an eye. Then, she reaches over and scratches her nails into the nape of my hair, then grazes her thumb against my cheek…just like that, I’m just as calm and cool as ever, better able to manage these big feelings.

We all startle at the sound of a shutter, looking over at the door to find a smiling Taehyung looking down at the display of his digital camera. Once he’s done examining the photo with a gleam of adoration in his eyes, he rushes over to us.

“Hoseok, you’re here! I missed you…not as much as Tia, but still,” he picks at Tia, then wraps me up into a bro hug.

“Anyways! Did you get some good shots?” Tia asks Taehyung as she’s reaching over to grab his wrist, pulling the camera closer to her.

They continue to talk about his pictures and Yoongi goes back to work, nailing and gluing boards together.

“You’ve gotten a lot done already. It’s coming together nicely,” I compliment him, moving closer to admire his work.

“Thanks. Yeah, I’m over halfway done now,” he says looking down at his watch. “We should be done within a couple more hours since we’ve been at it since early this morning. It’ll be fine to sleep in tonight.”

“Wow…it looks really good. You’re so talented and good with your hands, I see.”

Still working, he doesn’t even turn around but I can tell he’s amused as his shoulders are visibly bouncing in laughter.

“Hobi, are you over here being a little slut? I thought that was my role,” Tia teases me, now standing right behind me. 

I quickly turn on my heels and scoop her up to straddle my body, holding her with hands full of her ass. She squeals and holds onto my shoulders as I spin her around the room.

“Am I being a slut?”

“Yes,” she says between laughing and screaming.

I stop spinning and lessen my hold on her butt, allowing her to slide down my body. I follow her down, leaning slightly to kiss her forehead.

“Maybe,” I admit, to which we all burst into laughter.

I’m not sure how much time has passed, but since I got here, one by one, the guys finish with their individual tasks. Everyone is chattering with each other in the kitchen while helping Tia prepare dinner for all of us. Being that she’s not used to feeding so many hungry grown men, we decide to cook several meals that we can all share.

“Okay, we’ll need to go grocery shopping tomorrow. We have enough for breakfast in the morning but that’ll be the last of it,” she announces to no one specifically.

I’m still finding my place within the group but I love the way Namjoon, Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung seem to float around Tia effortlessly; it almost looks choreographed. They take turns hugging her from behind while she stirs this and that, kissing her neck, cheek, hair…anything they can reach, really. She dips her spoon in different pots, letting the men taste what she’s preparing.

“Where’s Hobi?” Tia asks, looking around the kitchen until her eyes land on mine. “Hobi, come here. Would you like to taste it?”

She asks me that as if she can read my mind, and I’m grateful for her acknowledging me. I accept and make my way over to her, wrapping my arm around her waist as she feeds me.

“How is it?” Her curious expression is so cute, waiting in anticipation for my answer.

“Mmm…it’s good!”

One would think I just offered her a million dollars the way she beams, happy that I’m satisfied. When I move to go back to my seat at the island, she applies pressure to my hand, asking me to stay without saying a word, and so I do. Before I even realize it, I’ve been added to the dance, moving around the other guys and helping Tia with whatever she needs, just like I’ve always been here, perfectly in sync.

[joonslfttiddie]

Falling In Love At A Coffee Shop | MYG

▻ Falling In Love At A Coffee Shop ↳ ArtProfessor!Yoongi x Artist/CoffeeShopOwner!f.Reader ⤜ Strangers to Lovers, Cozy Romance ⤜ Coffee Shop/Art AU | fluff, smut ⤜ Rating: MA ⤜ WC: 8,028 ⤜ Summary: It’s like clockwork; you receive the same online order every weekday morning at eight o’clock: large decaf iced Americano, picked up promptly shortly after. His face has become familiar, as a part of your routine as the hiss of the espresso machine. Until, one day, that routine takes an unexpected turn, and you find yourself getting familiar with more than just his face. ⚠️ Very mild language, panic over student/teacher potential date (reader is a student, but she's the same age as Yoongi, just taking classes later in life than most), oral m receiving, fingering, kissing, mild dirty talk, cum swallowing, confessions of the heart

A/N: This is part of my 'Heartbeat Melodies' mini-series, where I write fics that are inspired by songs. If you'd like to hear the song that inspired this, you can find it here! A special thank you to @downbad4yoongi & @moonleeai for their amazing beta services!

Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad

“Large decaf iced Americano,” you call out, barely glancing up from behind the counter.

A deep, familiar drawl pulls your attention, “That would be mine.” It’s only familiar for the fact you’ve heard that voice nearly every day for the last six months.

Your eyes snap up from the tablet, where the next online order has come through, to meet warm brown ones. “I should have known,” you reply before you can think better to bite your tongue. Heat suffuses your cheeks. You pull your lips between your teeth to stifle the groan of embarrassment that begs to be released.

The man chuckles, absently using a knuckle to push up the hornrimmed glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know if I should be offended or honored by that comment. But, I guess I do come here a lot.”

Nearly every day for the last six months, at least. That’s how often he comes here—to your coffee shop. It’s tiny, barely big enough for a handful of small tables and chairs. But it’s yours, and you’re proud of it.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean for that to seem…” you trail off. Not sure how to finish that thought because you’re not entirely sure how you meant it or why you said it other than the fact you’re a bit frazzled this morning and apparently forgot your mouth filter at home. It was a late night last night for you. It's not an excuse, but still.

He waves a large hand in the air, dismissing your apology. “Please, it’s quite alright. I’ll take it as flattery; could use a little boost to my confidence anyhow.”

That almost makes you sputter in disbelief. There’s absolutely no way this man needs any flattery. Surely, he comes by it in droves. Because, well, he’s honestly so gorgeous it should be criminal.

His hair is fluffy, somewhere between charcoal grey and black, though the warm lighting of your cafe gives it a golden honey halo effect. The eyes behind his black-rimmed glasses are dark swirls of espresso that match his coffee order—a straight nose sitting above soft, pink lips that have a light glossy sheen to them.

As usual, he’s wearing a pressed slack and jacket combo, a cream-colored collared shirt underneath with a bold print tie. His choice of ties is what drew you to him in the first place, and made you pay a little closer attention to the mysterious man behind the large decaf iced Americano.

You clear your throat, daring to be bold, while it seems you’ve no filter to stop you. “Well, if you ever need further flattery, you know where to find me.” It’s clear that you give him an assessing once over, his eyes locked onto yours as you do so.

“Do you paint?”

The question throws you off, nearly making you drop the tablet in your hands. Your fingers flex against the case, your thumb brushing along the glass screen. Busying yourself with reviewing the next order on the screen, you turn, giving him your back as you decide how to answer his random question. You’ve never actually had a conversation with him; this man that you feel like you know yet is a complete stranger.

“Why do you ask?” you deflect as you go through the motions of scooping grinds and swapping out the portafilter for a freshly filled one. However, you know it’s not always polite to answer a question with a question; you’re just not sure how to decipher his curiosity or where it came from to begin with.

The bell above the door rings, and you wince as the espresso machine gurgles and hisses loudly as you mechanically pop a cup in the machine and hit the brew button. The noise fills the quiet space of the coffee shop. It’s not until the cup is filled, you’ve added two lumps of sugar, and you’re grabbing a lid that the man responds.

“There’s paint under your fingernails. Or, at least, what I would guess is paint.”

Glancing down at the cup in your hand, you take in the colorful myriad of flecks coating your skin. The colors fill the grooves of your knuckles and hug around the bed of your nails.

“Double espresso with two sugars,” you announce, ripping your gaze from your hand to the interior space of your cafe. A woman steps around the man, giving you a hurried smile as she holds out her hand to receive the cup. You hand it off. “Have a good day.”

Giving the cafe's inside a quick glance, you ensure all the customers within are taken care of. A college student is busy pounding away at their laptop keyboard in the corner, utilizing your free wifi. A half-empty cup of hot cocoa sits cold and abandoned beside them. A trio of friends sit at your only table big enough to seat more than two people, laughing softly and sipping hot lattes and teas. No one seems to need your attention; except the man still standing there, large decaf iced Americano in hand.

You lick your lips, a nervous habit you picked up after endless stressful nights pouring your heart, soul, blood, sweat, and tears into opening the small cafe. Most believed it would flop; others rallied to your side and helped your dream come true.

“Look, sorry if I’ve overstepped somehow,” he begins, but you shake your head, letting him know he’s not.

Gesturing at the wall behind the man, you finally answer, “In my spare time.”

He glances over his shoulder, eyes zigzagging across the giant unfinished mural covering the windowless back wall of the cafe.

“That?” he asks. “You’re painting that?”

It’s hard to decipher if that’s disbelief or awe coloring his voice.

“I am,” you answer a bit hesitantly.

“Wow!” he exclaims, a giant grin spreading across his face, crinkling his eyes at the corners. “I’ve been meaning to ask after the artist every time I come in and see something new added, I just uh,” he brings his free hand up and rubs it across the back of his neck, eyes dropping to the floor under his feet, “well, could never bring myself to.” It’s pretty, the way his cheeks take on a flush of color as his eyes cut to you from over the frame of his glasses. “It’s wonderful work.”

“Thank you.” You can’t help your own flush of shyness at his praise.

“So, uh,” he lifts his cup and gives it a swirl, the ice sloshing around inside, before taking a small sip through the straw, “I know you probably see it on the order, but for the sake of propriety, my name’s Yoongi.”

Min Yoongi, to be more precise, you know. It’s a name you’ve read so many times it’s ingrained in your mind. However, it’s still nice for him to offer it to you. Willingly establishing your connection one step further than his coffee order.

You feel so silly tapping the name tag on the front of your apron, but you do it before you can think better of it, mumbling your name as if he can’t read it for himself after you brought direct attention to it. “Sorry, I’m not normally so weird,” you give a shaky laugh, willing yourself to shut up before you chase him off from how awkward you’re being.

Something changes in his demeanor, his eyes taking on a light twinkle that sits somewhere between mischief and wonder. “I like weird,” he offers casually as if that doesn’t make your stomach swoop and your heart beat a little harder. “Maybe we can talk more about your art sometime. Maybe over dinner? Or lunch if dinner is too forward.”

If you were a cartoon, you’re confident your tongue would actually be tied into a jumbled knot right now with you frantically trying to talk around it, a comical scene for sure. Yet, there is no knot, just a thick feeling that you have to swallow past. “Um, yeah, sure. That would be great. Dinner…or uh, lunch. Both. Either one. Though, dinner might be better considering my hours.”

Yoongi glances at the vinyl hours printed on the front window by the door. They’re backward from his vantage point, but you assume he has no issue reading them, considering he turns back to you and asks, “How does seven work for you?”

“Tonight?” The beating of your heart lurches again, and you can barely hear him over the rushing in your ears.

“Yeah, if that’s not too soon. Perhaps next week, if that’s better? I don’t want to come on too strong. Or well, rather, what I mean to say is, don’t feel pressured.” You can tell he’s feeling hesitant now, trying to backtrack and offer you a way to politely decline his offer for dinner tonight. You didn’t mean to come off sounding so put out. You just weren’t expecting his request to be for tonight.

Mentally, you dig through your schedule. You’re not closing today. Marvin comes in at noon to help with the lunch rush, and then you leave at four to make it to your five o’clock class. It would be today of all days that your new art class starts. It’s the beginning of the fall semester at the local university, and you just so happened to decide to take a few art classes they were offering, the first of which starts tonight.

The class should only be around an hour long, with plenty of time to get home and change before the date. Is it a date? Or just strangers getting together to talk about art? Isn’t that what a date is anyway, though?

“Seven. Tonight. That would be great.”

“Okay, perfect. Can I pick you up? Or we can meet here if that works better.”

It’s endearing he’d offer, both picking you up and meeting in a familiar place. Considering you live above the coffee shop, though, it makes no difference. Though, he doesn’t necessarily know that.

“Here is fine.”

“Wonderful. Have you tried that steak house on the corner yet?”

“The new one that opened last week?” He nods. “I haven’t, no.”

“Perfect.” Yoongi smiles. “Here, at seven. Consider it a date.” His smile falters, and his brows pinch, forming a line between them. “Not that I…well, it’s not that…it doesn’t have to be…if you don’t want this to be a date, that’s—”

“It’s a date,” you confirm, giving him what you hope to be a warm smile to ease his mild panic. “I’ll see you then, Yoongi.”

“See you then,” he responds, tacking your name on at the end in his deep drawl. The way it sounds coming from his mouth should be added to one of those spicy erotica audiobooks you may or may not have downloaded on your phone.

Just as Yoongi is leaving, it’s like the world finally takes a breath, and the exhalation that follows brings with it a rush of early morning commuters seeking their morning fix. The everyday bustle and hubbub of the day filter back in, and you’re soon lost to the sway of the shop, coffee, tea, and cocoa. It all comes alive beneath your nimble fingers, much reminiscent of the way holding a brush makes you feel: a thrill of the soul with each pour.

☕☕☕

Yoongi

In all Yoongi’s years of teaching, he’s never been late to a class, especially on the first day of the semester. Yet, he’s nearly fifteen minutes late getting into his classroom this morning. Students are already filled in and scattered around the theatre-style seating. No one says anything. It’s far too early in the morning for smart mouths and snarky remarks about his tardiness. Not that he would expect that from any of the students anyway.

“Good morning, welcome to Art 320. I’m Professor Min.” He drops his bag and coffee off on his podium at the front of the classroom. Turning to the large chalkboard behind it, he scrawls his name to the side and then begins to write directions. “We will begin with Chapter 1, ‘Mediums and Forms’, in your textbook. Please read quietly, and I’ll be with you all in a moment.”

The day goes on, class after class, and the familiar monotony of it brings Yoongi a sense of peace. This is familiar territory; he’s in his element, not like this morning in the coffee shop. He felt totally out of control and swept up in the swirl of uncertainties and possibilities.

To say he’s relieved you agreed to go to dinner with him would be an understatement. From the moment he decided to change up his routine to check out the cafe Namjoon wouldn’t shut up about, he’s been hooked not only on the impeccable decaf iced Americano, nor the beautifully decorated and painted interior but on the smiling face behind the counter.

Yoongi feels a bit self-conscious thinking about how much he thinks about you. He’s always been too intimidated by the idea of speaking more than a few passing words to you. It’s like every time he gathered up the courage, it would abandon him at the last moment. Namjoon calls it a crush, Yoongi calls it frustrating.

The whole conversation this morning is a bit of a blur to him. Yoongi swears once he opened his mouth it was nearly impossible to stop the word vomit from gushing out…and the next thing he knew, you were agreeing to a date with him tonight.

The day's last class rolls around, and Yoongi feels much lighter as he steps out of his adjoining office and into the classroom to welcome the new students. A few offer him quiet hello’s, some he’s seen from other art classes he’s monitored across the entire department and fine arts program. 

Turning his back as the last few students filter in, he makes the same spiel he has at the beginning of every class. “Good morning, welcome to Art 320. I’m Professor Min…”

And so it begins, the beautiful dance of teaching and introducing fresh minds to the concept of forms and mediums. Yoongi is sure he could recite the entirety of Chapter 1 from memory now, with as many times as he’s gone over it today.

“What if you decide you don’t like your form or medium halfway through the project?” a student from the front row asks after Yoongi explains the medium and forms requisite for the final project for this class.

“We’re going to spend plenty of time during the first part of the semester testing out different mediums to know which best suits each of your individual tastes and needs. Regarding the form, I recommend choosing something you most likely won’t tire of. Something that means something to you but also isn’t so complex that you frustrate yourself and burn out before you can complete the project. You’re welcome to, at any time, bring me an idea of the form you’re considering, and we can talk about the intricacies and any potential issues that might arise with using it.”

Another question comes from somewhere in the middle, “Can we choose people, too?”

“A form can be anything that inspires you. If that happens to be a person, then of course. However, note that portraiture isn’t covered until Art 322, but I’ll do my best to help if that’s what you choose.” Yoongi glances at the clock, noticing there are only a few minutes left of class. “Let’s take the last few minutes to wind down, pack your things. If you have any further questions concerning your final project forms and mediums, please don’t hesitate to email me. Also, my office hours are open Tuesdays and Thursdays from two to six.”

As Yoongi turns to begin putting his things away from his podium, his eyes slide across the faces of his last class students, trying to cram them into his mind for the sake of remembering. He always likes to be as personable and approachable to his students as possible; knowing names and faces is always a good place to start.

He has to do a double take as his eyes flick over the very top row. The shock is felt throughout his entire body. It’s not that he’s surprised to see a face he already knows. It’s just that he wasn’t expecting it…wasn’t expecting to see you. Mild panic makes him jerk around, hands gripping at the papers on his podium, shuffling them mechanically.

The first thought that crosses his mind is he can’t possibly be going on a date with one of his students. Surely you’re just here to…to what? He turns over one of the papers, quickly scanning his roster that he hadn’t bothered to check yet. It doesn’t take long for his eyes to snag on your name.

Unease settles across his shoulders. He hates to cancel the date, as he was really looking forward to it, but it’s just…not right, right? There’s a line he shouldn’t cross with his students, even one who he is sure is his age and not the typical college freshman. Yoongi knows this because maybe, perhaps, he might have spent his lunch hour googling you and the cafe. You’re in your early thirties, given the birth year that was viewable on one of your social media pages, and own the coffee shop, have for several years now…a full-ass grown adult—the perfect person to date.

Except now you’re his student. There’s some moral code there somewhere, something about the skewed power dynamic. The thought of going on this date should have red flags flashing in his mind. Yet…yet, no matter how much he tells himself to cancel, he honestly doesn’t want to. Surely, it wouldn’t hurt that much, right? A harmless date.

That’s what he’s still telling himself as he dismisses the class a few minutes later. He intentionally avoided looking in your direction, unsure if you’d be comfortable with him acknowledging you as one of his students or not.

Much to his surprise, as the bubble of sound dissipates, a soft voice reaches his ears from a few feet behind him, “Fancy meeting you here.”

Yoongi has been so consumed with his own feelings about going on a date with a student that he hasn’t even thought about how you might feel. Are you about to cancel on him? Does he try to convince you not to?

He slowly turns, the stack of papers clutched in his hands, glasses slipping down his nose, yet he doesn’t want to pry his fingers from the bundle to fix them. “Look, I understand if you’d rather not—”

“I’m fine as long as you are.”

He’s relieved for your interruption, for keeping him from saying those words out loud. “Are you sure? If I had known this morning that you’d be one of my students…” he trails off, because he’s not so sure that would have stopped him after all. Considering he’s wanted to ask you out for at least the last four months.

“I’m glad you asked me. Student or not. I promise not to make it weird if you don’t.” You give him a brilliant smile, coy and full of mirth but light enough to make his heart jerk inside his chest.

“No weirdness, got it,” he agrees, unable to help his own teasing smile.

“So, I’ll see you then?” you ask, hefting your canvas bag on your shoulder. His eyes flick to it, noting the splashes and swirls of fabric paint that cover the outside. Yoongi wonders if you painted it yourself.

He nods, letting his eyes drink you in one last time before you turn to go. You’re still wearing the same jeans and thin cable knit sweater from the coffee shop this morning. Even in such casual clothes, you are stunning. A work of art all your own. He doesn’t stop staring until the door to his classroom shuts behind you.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath. It’s not out of irritation or anger, just an acknowledgement of how truly and utterly he’s got it down bad for you.

☕☕☕

Seven can’t come soon enough. It only took you thirty minutes to get ready, putting on a simple black dress and flats. It’s not too fancy, but it makes you feel far more put together than just jeans and a t-shirt.

At five til, you make your way down into the coffee shop from your upstairs apartment. All of the main overhead lights are off, leaving only the warm accent lights that line the menu board and the display case lights on. Even now, the space smells delightedly of coffee.

It’s kind of funny, the fact that you’re not a coffee drinker. Everyone finds it odd that someone who doesn’t drink coffee would aspire to open a coffee shop. What they fail to realize is you love the smell of coffee. The warm, roasted, mildly sweet notes are what you thrive on, better than any shot of espresso in your mind.

There is a street lamp right outside your shop, flooding the sidewalk with a pool of yellow light. Standing just within the glow is Yoongi, his back to the shop door. You watch as his head swivels, looking down both directions of the sidewalk, completely unaware that you’ll be coming from behind him instead.

The sound of the lock turning over startles him. He jerks around and laughs softly, taking a step back, hand to his chest, as you pull the door open. “Can’t say I expected you to come from inside the cafe.”

“I would have been down sooner had I known you would be a bit early,” you say, locking the door behind you. “I probably should have given you my number or something.”

Yoongi eyes you, his gaze sliding up and down your body like he’s drinking you in. You hope he likes what he sees. “I think I was so excited about the date that I forgot even to ask,” he admits, giving you a sheepish smile when his eyes finally land back on yours. “You look,” —he gives you another quick once over, shaking his head and sinking his teeth into his bottom lip— “gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” you preen under his praise. “You look quite handsome, yourself.”

You’re not just saying that to return the compliment, either. Yoongi is wearing the same thing he was this morning, except the tie is loosened, and the top button of his shirt is undone, giving you the slightest peek at his prominent jugular notch.

“Shall we?” he asks, offering you his arm.

You slip your hand into the bend of his elbow, falling into step beside him. The walk to the steak house is short, just enough for pleasant exchanges. He asks how your day at the coffee shop went, and you ask after his first day of classes. Neither of you bring up the fact that you were part of one of those classes.

“I’ve been meaning to check this place out. I’ve heard excellent things.”

Yoongi hums, nodding his head at your words. “I’ve also heard good things, though it might perhaps be biased considering all the praise I’ve heard has come from the owner himself.”

“You’ve spoken with the owner?”

“He’s one of my best friends, actually. This will be the first time I try it out. I kept telling him I’d stop by, but it always got away from me.”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up. “I can’t believe you know Seokjin.”

“Wait, you know Seokjin?” Yoongi asks, surprised.

“I’d say know is a relative term. We get deliveries from the same produce truck. He tried to take my apples one time. I had to set him straight.” That makes Yoongi laugh along with you. “We chat sometimes, mostly about the quality of produce and the best places to get ingredients. I had no idea he was your friend.”

“Small world,” Yoongi says. His smile is warm and inviting. You’re sure you could get lost in it if he’d let you. It makes you wonder what his lips taste like. They have a slight sheen to them like they did this morning. Cherry chapstick? Maybe mint? A nice subtle vanilla?

You’re not sure the last time you laughed so hard you had tears in your eyes. But Yoongi has your sides in stitches and your cheeks aching from smiling and laughing so much during dinner.

“Oh gosh,” you wheeze between fits of giggling, clutching your stomach. “Ow, ow. Don’t make me laugh again. I can’t take it.” It just makes you laugh even more, the huffs trailing off as Yoongi reaches across the table toward you.

You pry your hands from your abdomen and slide them into his. His fingers are warm against yours, his thumbs rubbing across the backs of your knuckles. It’s a gesture he’s done several times tonight, silently asking for your hands any chance he could.

“Sorry, you just have such a beautiful laugh,” he says. “I could listen to it all day.”

His flattery hasn’t stopped. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think the two glasses of wine he had with dinner were going to his head. But, he speaks so assuredly and looks in your eyes like you’re truly something special.

Feeling so intimately connected with someone you barely know might be absurd. Yet, you can’t help but feel drawn to him. If you’re being honest, the attraction started long ago, and tonight has just made it blossom into something so much more.

Yoongi has been the perfect gentleman. He’s not tried to railroad the conversation or make decisions for you like other guys you’ve gone on dates with. Whenever a server approached the table, he would defer to you and your needs before his.

“You’ve been so wonderful to me tonight. Please let me repay you with coffee and dessert. If you’re up for it.”

Yoongi squeezes both your hands before letting them go and sitting back in his chair. “There is no need to ‘repay’ me,” he says, emphasizing the word repay. “But, I wouldn’t say no to a date after this date, say in fifteen minutes, coffee and dessert?”

“Fifteen minutes? Coffee and dessert?” You give him a thoughtful look, tapping your fingers against your chin. “Hmm. I think I’m available.” You both break into more fits of soft laughter, contrasting so highly to the high energy from before; it’s intimate, if laughing can be such a thing.

It’s easy being with Yoongi; he’s attentive and curious. “What made you want to open a coffee shop?” he asks as you unlock the door to the cafe.

“I liked the idea of having a space that could cater to people from all walks of life. Businessmen in a hurry? Get it to go. Students needing a place to study? I have a quiet corner for that. College professor looking for his daily decaf Americao fix? Would you look at that? I got that covered, too.” You usher him inside, closing and locking the door behind you. “It also doubles as a great place to have a private coffee and dessert date after a lovely dinner date.”

You watch as Yoongi looks around the cozy space, his attention ending on the mural wall. “What’s your favorite kind of coffee?”

“Would it be weird if I said I don’t like coffee?” you ask.

He glances at you from over his shoulder. “Really?”

You shrug. “I love the way it smells, though.”

“Acrylic?” Yoongi asks, nodding toward the mural.

“Good eye,” you assess, stepping behind the counter to start making the coffee. You grab two pecan cinnamon twirls from the dry storage where you keep extra treats to take up to your apartment at the end of each shift and pop them into the small convection oven along the back wall. “You teach art, but it might be presumptuous of me to assume you also create. So, do you?”

“Not nearly as much as I’d like to. Pastels and charcoal are my favorites to work with. I like the mildly messy, chaotic feel of them. There are few things better than the feeling of taking something so uncontrolled and turning it into a thing of beauty.”

“Charcoal, huh?” Your mind instantly goes to the framed collection of pieces you have in your apartment upstairs. “I can appreciate that.”

“Maybe I can show you sometime.” Yoongi turns from his appreciation of your mural to watch you work behind the counter. He gestures to a few frames hung up on either side of the giant menu on the wall. “Arfé, right?”

You glance up, moving with automated motions to load the portafilter into the espresso machine. “Oh,” you laugh. “Yeah. An experiment. I wanted to try something new and needed some new decor. I thought it was appropriately on theme.”

The half-dozen pieces are all made with swirls of various shades in brown and tan and depict a mix of cups, mugs, bags of grinds, lumps of sugar, and piles of roasted coffee beans.

“Very appropriate. They’re lovely. You’re an exceptional artist.” You’ve lost count of the amount of compliments Yoongi has paid you tonight. You might have been the one flattering him this morning, but it seems he’s making up for that now.

“Thank you. Truly. That means a lot coming from you.” The hiss of the brew machine fills the air, and the soft gurgle of espresso trickling into the small mug follows. “One decaf Americano for one of my best customers,” you say, carefully carrying the steaming cup over to a table beside Yoongi. “Please, sit.”

Yoongi settles at the table, bringing the cup of coffee up to his nose and giving it an appreciative sniff. “Wonderful,” he murmurs before taking a tentative sip. “Thank you, that hits the spot.”

“If you think the Americano is good, wait until you try this,” you say, scooping the twirls out of the oven and onto a plate. They’re perfectly warm and gooey. “You’ve never tried any of our pastries, have you?”

You sit across from him. The table is small enough that you could reach out and cup his cheek if you wanted, and set the plate on the table before Yoongi. He whistles low, “Wow, these do look amazing. Maybe I’ll become a pecan twirl and coffee guy every morning instead.”

Your eyes track his movements, watching as his fingers pinch and slightly sink into the edges of one of the twirls. Some of the warm glaze and cinnamon sugar filling squishes from between the layers.

Yoongi’s lips part and the tip of his tongue peaks over his bottom teeth as he brings the pastry up to take a bite. The moan he lets out surprises you both. His eyes flutter before landing on you and going wide. He chews methodically, his gaze not leaving yours. His tongue darts out, swiping over his lips before he swallows.

“Well?” you ask, settling your elbows on the table and leaning into him, expectant.

The smile that tugs at his lips is coy. “Might be one of the best things I’ve ever put in my mouth.” There is a heat in his gaze as his eyes search yours. “What other surprises do you have up your proverbial sleeve for me?”

“Now, if I told you, they wouldn’t be surprises anymore, would they?”

That makes him laugh. “Fair point. You know,” he glances around the coffee shop, “I never knew just what it was about this coffee shop I loved so much, but I think I’ve figured it out.”

“Yeah?” you say, feeling positively giddy.

“Mhm. So,” he mirrors your pose across the table, his elbows nearly touching your own, fingers toying with yours where they’re folded in the air in front of your face, “is it too soon to ask you on a second date?”

“I thought this was our second date.” You raise a teasing eyebrow, a smile quirking on your lips.

“A third then,” he offers, eyes hopeful.

Of course, you want to say yes. And in the spirit of trying to be coy and playful, you lean in with the full intent of showing him instead of telling him how much you want to go on another date.

Yoongi’s eyes flicker to your lips, watching as you deliberately lick them as you lean in a bit closer. Acceptance lies within their dark depths, a flash of hunger at the impending response that’s only a breath away.

As you advance, your elbows slide on the table, accidentally knocking the coffee cup. Liquid goes everywhere; it floods over the table and pours off the side…right into Yoongi’s lap.

“Oh fuck!” you yell, jumping up from the table and rushing around to his side. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay? Do I need to call an ambulance? Does it burn?”

Yoongi pushes back from the table, holding his arms up off his lap as he assesses the mess. “No harm done. It was already cooled off. It's just a bit of a mess, that’s all. I’m fine,” he laughs. “Truly, I promise. Do you have any towels or anything?”

“Oh god, your shirt, it’s going to stain,” you lament, staring at the dark splotch soaking through above his trousers. “Towels? Yes. Yes. Okay. And some baking soda. Come on, let’s hurry. Again, I’m so sorry!”

“Should we clean this up first?” he asks, motioning at the coffee-covered floor.

“I can mop in the morning. Please,” you fret, guilt making you a bit frantic and flustered.

Yoongi lets you lead him up the stairs in the back that go to your apartment. “You live here?” he questions. “No wonder you were coming out of the coffee shop earlier. That’s very cool.”

You make a noncommittal sound. “It’s cool if you like the smell of coffee and don’t mind rising early every day to open shop.”

It’s so hard to think right now, your mind solely focused on cleaning up the mess you’ve made of Yoongi’s clothes. That’s what you get for trying to be sly and answer his date question with a kiss. You’ll be lucky if he still wants that date now, surely.

The bathroom is barely big enough for the two of you. You insist Yoongi sit on the lip of the tub while you dig under the sink for the baking soda that you use for cleaning and removing your own coffee stains.

“Hey,” Yoongi says softly, grabbing your attention. You glance at him over your shoulder, bottom lip clamped between your teeth in an effort not to fall apart entirely. “I promise it’s okay, alright? You don’t have to stress over it. It’s just an accident. It's a pretty funny one if you ask me. If I’d have known we were getting wet on the first—I mean, second date, I would have planned accordingly.”

His words hang between you, full of static and charged with intention. He’s trying to lighten the mood…and it’s working. It’s also making you feel a certain kind of way. Words shouldn’t have the power to do that. Yet, here you are, flustered for a whole different reason now.

“Date’s not over yet,” you respond, unsure where the bold attitude came from, but you’ll take it. His eyes flicker with something like surprise mixed with desire, though it’s gone before you can really be sure. “Do you mind?” You gesture to his shirt. “It’ll be easier if I can soak it in the sink.”

Slowly, Yoongi undoes the buttons on his shirt, starting at the top and working his way down. Somehow, you weren’t expecting him to be naked underneath, but every open button reveals another swath of flesh. He shrugs out of the shirt, revealing a toned chest and taut belly. His nipples are hard, dark chips, standing out in contrast to his smooth, creamy skin. Yoongi is absolutely breathtaking.

In fact, you have to remind yourself to breathe, taking in a large lungful of air that’s so much it makes your chest ache. He holds the shirt out to you in offering. Your fingers tremble lightly as you take it, quickly turning back to the sink and the distraction of scrubbing at the stain.

Reading over the garment tag quickly, you make sure what you’re about to do is okay. You can feel Yoongi’s eyes on your back, like heated dagger points pricking beneath your skin. You turn on the water, letting the tap run until it’s hot, before quickly swishing the area of the shirt covered in coffee under it. The hot water alone makes a world of difference, the dark liquid swirling away down the drain.

“Do you want my pants, too?” Yoongi asks, startling you.

Your eyes flick up to the mirror, looking at him through the reflection. He’s talking to you, but his attention is zeroed in on your backside. Suddenly, you’re intimately aware that your dress has ridden up dangerously high. You can feel the cool air of the bathroom kissing the crease between your thigh and asscheek.

Turning off the water, you slowly turn to face him. Your chest rises and falls as you try to take deep, even breaths, but with the way your heart is revving inside, it’s impossible to do so. “Let’s see the damage,” you say lightly, raising an eyebrow in question, giving him a chance to call you off.

When he doesn’t comment further, you close the distance to where he’s sitting and ease down onto your knees. You mentally tell yourself it’s so you can get a better look at the coffee that’s saturating the dark fabric, but you know better than that.

Being so close to him, you can feel the heat of his body. His chest rises and falls as rapidly as yours, and when you look up and meet his gaze, there is no mistaking the fire that you see blazing there. “Don’t think I forgot you still haven’t answered my question,” he murmurs, lips barely moving as he watches you.

You lift a hand, hooking your index finger under his chin and using it to angle his face toward yours. “I’d love that,” you respond, your lips brushing over his with every syllable.

He kisses you. Or maybe you kiss him. It’ll be something you tease each other over for many years to come. You open yourself to him, welcoming the glide of his tongue against yours. The kiss tastes mildly of coffee, yet for the first time in your life, you don’t mind the flavor.

“For me to take my pants off, or the date?” he teases, alternating between nipping and consuming kisses. Yoongi’s hands frame your face, holding you to him as he continues to ravage your mouth.

“Mm, both,” you manage to get out. “Definitely both.” Sliding your hands down his torso, you marvel at the softness of his skin and the already very prominent bulge that your fingers dance over as you try to get a grip on the button to his slacks.

Yoongi breaks away from the kiss long enough to help you with his pants, standing up from the edge of the tub and bringing you up with him. He toes off his shoes, leaving his pants puddled on top of them. “Good answer,” he chuckles.

You let out a tiny squeal as he wraps his hands around the backs of your thighs and hauls you up, your legs automatically winding around his waist. Thick erection pressed right against your panty-covered pussy, he slowly walks you out of the bathroom and into your adjoining room. You land on the bed with a soft oomph, Yoongi following you down. His weight is a comfort, settled over your body in a warm, hedonistic embrace.

“I’ll change classes,” you pant, flexing your hips against his. “As long as our next date is to an art gallery.”

“Is it weird for that to turn me on?” he responds, groaning as you roll your hips against him again. “The art part, not the dropping classes part. You don’t have to do that if it’s too much trouble. I know your schedule must be pretty set with the cafe.”

You press your hands against his chest, giving him a gentle push until he’s rolling over and you’re hovering over him. “I’ll make it work. I want to make it work. Everything tonight,” you pause and sit back on your heels, dragging your hands along his torso as you do, “I want more. You’re driving me crazy in the best of ways.”

“Says the woman who’s been running through my thoughts for the last several months now.” Yoongi’s lips part in a gasp, turning his last word into a breathly plea as you trace the tips of your fingers over his straining erection. The fabric of his grey boxer briefs is slightly sticky when you brush your thumb over the head.

“It reminds me of making art,” you casually say, curling your fingers over the waistband of his underwear and tugging until he lifts his hips and lets you drag them down. You toss them to the side, marveling at the glory now resting against his belly. Yoongi’s cock is a gentle upward curve, all smooth steel and thick veins. It throbs, bouncing against his stomach, leaving behind a thick smear of precum. “The way you make me feel.”

“Art?” he asks, breathless. His eyes flutter behind his glasses, his chest hollowing as he sucks in ragged breaths.

“Being with you gives me the same feeling as viewing a Duncanson or a Matisse, calm and full of joy. Though, you can also make me feel the chaos of a Kandinsky when you touch me.” To emphasize your words, you wrap your fingers around his girth, angling it up, watching the emotions on his face. The tip of his tongue works at the corner of his mouth, lips parted with every pant and soft moan. “Is this okay?” you ask, leaning down and gently blowing over the leaking tip before tentatively giving it a kitten lick.

“More than,” Yoongi moans. His eye slide closed as you wrap your lips around the head and suck. The flavor of him bursts across your tongue. You can’t help but moan yourself at the idea you’ve made him like this, hard and leaking.

Working as much of his cock into your mouth as you can, you delight in the shuddering convulses you can feel from his body as he loses himself in the sensations you’re bringing him. Yoongi always seems like such a collected individual. He still appeared so well-kept even when he stuttered over his words asking you on the date this morning. Now, though, he’s unraveling into a puddle of debauchery.

It’s a satisfying feeling, similar to when you get into a perfect rhythm when working on a project, bringing him to the edge. You work your mouth and hand in tandem, never leaving an inch of his cock free of your touch.

“Mmm,” you moan, the head of his cock resting in the back of your throat. Yoongi jerks under you, half raising onto his elbows, his eyes zeroing in on where you’re wrapped around him.

His fingers twist into the duvet, bottom lip puffy and flushed as he worries it with his teeth. “I’m going to cum,” he grunts, throwing his head back and moaning his pleasures, deep and throaty.

You quicken your pace, hollowing your cheeks as you suck in earnest. Yoongi cries out a second before liquid warmth floods your mouth. It’s greedy, the way you swallow and continue to lave your tongue over him, eliciting tiny tremors and more moans.

“Just like art,” you whisper, finally letting his cock slip from between your lips. You’re riding your own high, wet and throbbing between your thighs. You can feel the ache in your clit, begging to be touched. All it would take is a few seconds, a few well-placed swirls of your fingers, and you know you’d be floating in orgasmic bliss.

Before you can even think of bringing your hand between your thighs to find relief, Yoongi is sitting up and urging you backward. Your back hits the mattress, and he settles on his side beside you. Somewhere between there and here, he pulled off his glasses. Despite having just found his release, his eyes are still so full of hunger and desire.

“May I?” he asks, pressing a hand against your inner thigh. You nod, eyes locked with his as he slowly trails his hand upward until his fingers brush over the soaked fabric of your panties. “You are so beautiful,” he whispers, leaning in to capture your mouth in a languid kiss. Your lids flutter closed, consumed as you are by his touch.

Yoongi takes his time, toying with the edge of your panties before tugging them down past your knees. They pool around your ankles as he pushes your thighs apart, exposing your weeping pussy to the air of the bedroom.

“Yoongi.” His name is half moan, half curse as he brings his hand back up and cups your heat. The meat of his palm rests against your clit, right where you need to be touched, but the pressure isn’t enough to satisfy.

“An exquisite work of art.” His lips strum against yours, plucking and teasing just the way his fingers do through your wetness. The tips of his fingers briefly kiss your clit, dancing away before returning; a slow build of decadent pleasure.

It’s not above you to beg. “Please. Yoongi, please!”

“Open your eyes, look at me. Let me watch you fall apart so I can brand it into my memory.”

You snap open your eyes the exact moment he slides two slender fingers into your pussy, thumb finally giving the needed pressure to your clit. You’re so worked up that your body pulses around the intrusion, a tiny fluttering orgasm rippling through you.

“Fuck,” you whimper.

Yoongi gives you a wicked, knowing smile. “It’s not over yet, beautiful,” he assures you in a whispered promise.

His fingers are long, able to reach the perfect, special place inside you. As he strokes his fingertips, moving them in an undulating wave, his thumb swirls in a circle around your clit.

The next orgasm is less surprising, building to a heightened peak that has you crying out as you careen over the edge, entirely at Yoongi’s mercy. “Yoongi, fuck!” you babble, your whole body alive with sensations of pleasure.

“That’s it,” he coaxes. “So beautiful.”

Your body shudders around his hand, his fingers slowing down their rhythm until you finally recover. The slide of his fingers along your walls as he withdraws makes you wish he’d put them back in…or maybe something else. The bereft feeling lasts only a moment before Yoongi gathers you into his arms. He’s completely naked, and you’re still wearing your dress, but you feel just as exposed as he is…only, it’s your soul on display for him instead of your body.

You wait for the feeling of vulnerability to filter in, that broken feeling of uncertainty. But, it doesn’t come. The only thing you feel is complete and utter content. It’s not even the post-orgasmic bliss that’s clouding it, either. No, there’s plenty of that, but it feels different; he feels different.

“Yoongi,” you begin, resting your cheek on his chest. You want to confess to him, but the words get choked in your throat. Is it too soon? Are you completely crazy? What if he doesn’t feel the same way? Fuck. Here goes nothing. “This feels good, really good. Is it too soon to say…?”

“Too soon to say?” he prompts.

You absently trace haphazard swirls and lines across his chest, trying to think of how to word it. “I, well…”

“Too soon to say that I think possibly, maybe, I’m falling for you?” You look up at him, surprised by his words. Yoongi looks at you with so much warmth and affection in his eyes. “Because that’s exactly how I feel, too.”

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️   2023-12-30 ColorMePurplex2

[joonslfttiddie]

Home

Chapter 43: You Aight...

💜Fic Pairing: OT7 x OFC

💜AU/Genre: Reverse Harem/Polyfidelity/Ghosts/AMBW

💜Warnings: Smut/Adult Language/Adult Content

💜Rating: MA

💜Word Count: 3,830

Namjoon’s POV

This explains the feeling I have been having since their trucks pulled up. When I open the front door for the carpenter and his team, I can immediately tell it’s him. The carpenter, the smaller man wearing the low cut, plain, white t-shirt and black cargo pants, with his hair falling carelessly onto his face; he’s one of us. There is nothing special about his outfit, but he looks so fucking good in it. I already know that Tia is going to love him. After introducing ourselves, I call out for Tia. We’re ascending the stairs and again, I yell out for her with no response. I’m sure she’s either listening to music with her earbuds in, or she’s a bit busy and not alone in the bathroom. When her sweet aroma floods my senses, as I’m standing at the threshold of the room, I’d say it is the latter.

I watch as Yoongi moves around the room, taking notes on his clipboard that doubles as a binder. There’s something sexy about his sternness. He comes off a tad unfriendly at first, his face expressionless and focused, but there is something in his eyes that hints that he has a kind heart. I notice he has a habit of licking the corners of his mouth when he’s concentrating.

Cute.

My eyes follow him when he moves to another area. He jots on the paper and the veins in his hands are pronounced under his pale skin. Just then, his pencil stills and he glances toward the bathroom. He looks back at the paper for less than a millisecond before he looks back through the open door, eyes wide. Bingo!

He continues to peer inside from the corner of his eye, trying not to be obvious, but I already know what he sees. Like a moth to a flame, he moves closer to the entrance for a better view and he’s completely transfixed. He barely blinks and his lips are parted, like a man who’s not eaten in weeks; salivating and hungry to be a part of what he’s witnessing. I notice his Adam's apple bob when he swallows while his chest rises and falls, and then I see his penis twitch beneath the fabric of his pants.

He covers himself with the binder but his side profile is still revealing his lust to me. Tia’s scent is getting increasingly stronger by the second, which means she’s close…very close. Based on the carpenter’s body language, I’d guess he’s not far behind.

Another POV

Walking into the expansive room, I can already envision the building design and placement for the bed. My guys are still outside prepping the boards and getting the tools set up. I’m taking notes, jotting where there are outlets, and looking at the placement of the existing bed, but I feel…off. I guess that would be the best way to describe it. Since we pulled into the driveway, I’ve had this feeling that’s almost nauseating, but I love the sensation. It resembles the way I felt when I had my first kiss like there was a lump in my throat. Hot and  incredibly aroused, it got even more intense when the door opened to reveal a tall, broad-chested, honey-skinned man. Namjoon.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

He lingers at the bedroom door, not hovering but clearly interested. Is he interested in the process of building the bed or me? I’m not sure, but I hope he misses me stealing glances his way. He’s trying to make small talk but I’m a little reserved. It’s not him, I’m just confused about why I’m having these feelings toward him. He’s still talking and joking and when I look over at him, he smiles. Oh my fucking God, I could melt right into one of those deep dimples. He is so fucking fine, and I bet he gets tons of women…or men… whichever. He traces my body and moves his focus on the necklace resting between my pecs, and then his gaze returns to mine. He flashes a half smile  and I damn near drop my shit before I quickly look away.

We continue chatting a bit, though it’s mainly him, as I’m moving over to the nightstand that’s next to the current bed, which has been stripped of its linen. Suddenly, I notice movement in my peripheral vision.

Holy shit!

Through the reflection of the shower door, I see three people moving. I begin to salivate when the sweet aroma of warm vanilla wafts under my nose. Upon further observation, I see a woman who’s facing the door with a man licking her exposed breasts. Another man is kneeling behind her and it seems he’s eating her out. Their moans fuse into one delicious melody swirling around in my ears. 

So enchanted, I forget that Namjoon is even here. Unable to help myself, I move closer to the door to get a better view.  She is stunning, even with her hair coming undone, she’s perfect. I admire her features, from her eyes down to her parted full lips. Noticing little things like how her bottom lip is just slightly plumper than her top. Her nose looks like a button that God booped onto her face, and her caramel-complected skin looks so smooth and soft. Her body is curvy and my eyes travel from the fullness of her breast cupped in the man's hands to the way her dress hugs her waist, to the little pooch of her belly. Many women may feel self-conscious about that, but I love it and can already picture myself lying my head there while I taste her fruit underneath.

I lick my lips as an overwhelming hunger takes over me and I wouldn’t say I’m jealous, per se, but I definitely would like to be involved; to touch her, to love her, and be able to make her make those pretty sounds for me, too. The scent grows stronger with every step I take. I know I shouldn't be snooping, but I can’t fight the urge to see more of her body, the way she moves, the way her face looks as she’s about to orgasm. I’m not a creep, I swear…well, not usually though my current situation is definitely giving voyeuristic vibes. My eyes dance from here to there, taking in the obvious passion they have for one another, clenching the fabric of each other’s clothes in their fists and digging nails into each other’s skin. The scene is nothing less than tantalizing.

Judging by the way her brow is furrowed, I’m assuming that her climax is near. I can’t tear my eyes away from her and find myself covering my manhood with my binder as it is pressing firmly against my cargo pants; hiding, as I know that I shouldn’t be watching them. I would want nothing more than to be inside of her, to feel the warmth and wetness of her walls wrapped around me. Imagining this, I could release without being touched. The moment is so intense I can hear my heartbeat pounding and my blood whooshing in my ears. I'm panting hard as fuck like I may be on the brink of death right now and I’m okay with that. Just being here and witnessing this scene fills a void I’ve felt for so long, but I’d be lying if I said I don’t want more.

The woman opens her eyes to look directly into mine. I’m frozen in place, my breath catches in my chest, and fight or flight mode is initiated. Unsure of what to do, I look to the floor, but as if instinctually, my gaze finds her eyes again. I’m lost in those beautiful, sinful almond-shaped marbles, shaded a dark mocha brown. We stay this way and I swear she smirks at me.

So, you like to be watched, Love?

And I love to watch her but would rather be with her. Without breaking eye contact, I nearly crumble when I hear her whisper to the man now nibbling at her neck that she’s about to cum. She comes undone when her eyes squeeze shut. She whines, squirms, and moans while her pretty little nails dig into the skin of the man’s neck, as he continues to lap at her skin. I want nothing more than to see this every day for the rest of my life. She is already beautiful but even more so at this moment. She sings praises to the men then takes her bottom lip between her teeth. Her expression resembles anger but I know she’s far from it. The men lick and nibble at her viciously, only slowing as she begins to come down. And only then am I able to break free from my trance.

Namjoon is now standing next to me and gets my attention when he touches my shoulder, catching me off guard. I flinch under his touch. With a knowing smirk, he says, “Mr. Min…you aight?”

I honestly don’t know how to answer his question, but I nod before  rushing out of the room and then out of the front door. Unsure of how to handle this situation, I go to my truck to remove myself for a moment to cool off and catch my breath. 

“Boss, you good?” One of my guys asks and I reassure him I’m fine before moving to the front of the truck, out of sight. The crisp breeze helps calm me a bit, and I rub my cool hands across the heat of my cheeks for more relief. Embarrassment is not the word for what I’m feeling right now, and as much as I want the ground to swallow me whole, there’s a fervent pull urging me to go back and remain there.

What is going on with me?!

“Mr. Min? Hey, I’m Tia.”

That angelic voice pulls me back to the present, calming and grounding me. My heartbeat slows, I begin to cool down, and my mind goes quiet, which is oddly disturbing after becoming accustomed to the constant rambling. When I turn I discover the woman from earlier, now neatly put together and smiling. The world stops for a bit. The stillness is peaceful, something I’ve never experienced before as the anxiety that usually looms around me dissipates, creating a place of tranquility. I could stay here forever.

There is something about this woman. She can drive me crazy one minute and then soothe my anxiety the next; my cause and cure. This close-up, I can see the rest of my life in her eyes. She feels so comfortable, like a safe haven, blocking all of the negative thoughts and feelings I store within. 

“Are you okay? I’m sorry if that was too much for you. I honestly didn’t hear you come into the room.”

“No. Ahem… I mean, yes, I’m fine. No, it wasn’t too much. You don’t have to apologize for what you do in your own home. I should be the one apologizing. I’m not a creep, I promise. I just couldn’t seem to tear my eyes away from you. That was completely unprofessional and disrespectful of me to intrude on such an intimate moment. If you want to fire me and cancel the job, I will completely understand,” I ramble on.

She reaches out to touch my cheek, which I’m assuming is still red. Her palm against my skin sends tingles through my body and cools me so quickly I shudder. I have no thoughts now, nothing but her.

“I’m so sorry,” she responds, obviously misreading my body’s reaction, and goes to move her hand away.

Instinctively, I immediately grab her wrist, not wanting this feeling to ever stop. It’s not like me to be this forward or comfortable with people, especially someone I’ve just met. We are standing in the middle of her driveway like this, just staring at each other, until another man comes out of the house and walks over to us. I experience the same feeling from him as I did from Namjoon earlier. The feeling Tia elicits is similar but different. It’s magical.

“Jagiya, is everything okay?”

“Tae! Say hello to Mr. Min,” she says. I release her hand to take his, shaking it gently to greet him. His touch makes my dick jump again and lava flows through my veins, heating me from within...again. “Mr. Min, this is my boyfriend, Taehyung.”

“Please, call me Yoongi.”

“Nice to meet you, bro.”

Oh, shit! Boyfriend?! Then who are those other three…

“And the other guys upstairs are also my boyfriends, Namjoon, Jimin, and Jungkook.”

Ooooooooh.

“Oh, okay! I got you. That sounds interesting.”

I must admit I’m a little taken aback by that revelation. I didn’t expect it, but I’m genuinely interested in their dynamic. We chat a moment longer before she leads us back inside and into her bedroom where she introduces me to the other guys. After greeting them all, I’m still a little nervous but I’m getting more comfortable, especially with her. They all radiate that familiar feeling as if I’ve met them before. 

We begin to discuss the design and I sketch out how they want everything. Knowing their situation, I can now understand the dimensions I’ve been given. This bed is going to be huge, one of the biggest I’ve built. All four of her boyfriends are involved, giving their thoughts and opinions on the build, and their energy seems to flow so seamlessly. There doesn’t seem to be any jealousy or difficulties compromising with each other. I am envious of it, but why? Because I’m here to do a job and will leave once I’m done. They get to stay here together. Fuck. Will I ever find happiness like this? Like them and with her?

Jimin’s POV

As I’m licking up the last bit of Tia’s essence, I notice a man looking at us before abruptly walking away. I was already confused at the nagging pull I felt while playing with Tia and Jungkook, but even more now. I’ve never seen that man before but once again, I get the same feeling from him as I did from the others.

“Is he…” 

“Yes. It feels like it,” Tia answers me before I can get the question out. “But for some reason I didn’t see him like I saw Hobi.” She hurriedly rights herself by fixing her clothes and finishing her hair.

“Who?” Jungkook, having his back to the door, has no clue what happened.

Before I can answer, Namjoon peeks around the corner. 

“Should I go talk to him?” He asks Tia, his expression is a mix between concern and amusement.

“No, baby, thank you. I’ll go,” she says before kissing us and then disappearing out of sight.

“Who?!” Jungkook is still oblivious. While Tia is trying to de-escalate the situation, we inform him on what is going on. “Holy shit. So that’s why everything suddenly got so intense,” he realizes.

“Yeah, probably so. He’s definitely one of us,” Namjoon adds. “I could tell before I even opened the door for them. I feel bad that I didn’t stop him. I knew you guys were in here being freaky. I could smell her.”

“I guess that was for the best, though. May as well rip the bandage off,” Jungkook tries to comfort Namjoon.

“Fuck. I wonder how many of us there are,” I ponder.

“I wonder, too. Also, have you noticed we’re all drawn to Tia and met her at this house? It’s like parts of us were already here before we stepped foot in the door.”

Jungkook is right. We’ve all been near or inside this house when we met Tia and it has always felt like home; like we belonged here. It’s as if finding a piece of ourselves that we’ve been unaware was even missing. I honestly don’t remember how I’ve lived before finding them. Was I living or just existing?

Tia and the carpenter come back upstairs accompanied by Taehyung, who stretches his eyes wide at us, making us aware that he knows what’s up, too. We all introduce ourselves before Yoongi gets us back on task. He sketches and measures, listening to our feedback but he also gives suggestions regarding the design. Tia offers we move the bed against the wall furthest from the bathroom.

“I like that too. If it’s there, there will be no obstructions for Namjoon to run into while going to the bathroom in the middle of the night," Jungkook notes, flashing his bunny-like grin to which Namjoon tries to poke his finger into Jungkook’s side. We are all aware of how ticklish that spot is for him.

“That, and the sun won’t be shining in our faces early in the morning,” Tia suggests with a chuckle.

“Yeah, I agree. Especially when JK has to work the night shift. I’m sure it’s hard to sleep during the day with the sun beaming in,” Namjoon adds, now rubbing Jungkook’s back affectionately.

“Maybe we should still keep our clothes in our own rooms just so we won’t wake anyone else if we have to start our day early,” I offer.

“Hmm,” Jungkook agrees with a nod.

“All those suggestions are good, but I’m just imagining being able to see the shower from bed,” Taehyung teases.

“Boy,” Tia laughs, playfully pushing Taehyung. “Stop it.”

Is that a smile I see? I swear that Yoongi has been straight-faced this entire time, but to see him smile, even if it was for a split second, warms my heart. However, there’s also a glimmer of sadness in his eyes. I wonder what he’s thinking, but I can just feel that he’s going to be a tough nut to crack; one who holds his feelings inside.

I had already stripped the bed of its linens earlier, which is what I came up here to tell Tia when I found her with Jungkook. With that out of the way, we help by taking the bed apart and move the pieces into one of the vacant bedrooms. Once the area is clear of the chairs and the mattress, which we’ve moved against the opposite wall, Yoongi gets to work.

We leave the room to busy ourselves with various things, feeling comfortable leaving Tia with Yoongi to have some time alone with each other. Jungkook crosses the yard, heading to the gym, while Namjoon immerses himself in one of the many books in the library. Taehyung, after finding several cameras in the library, has gone outside to take a few shots while I go down to the basement to arrange the bar Tia hasn’t had the chance to tackle. I hope she doesn’t mind, but I get rid of the bottles of wine the police didn’t take for evidence, only keeping the old bottles of liquor that are still sealed or too high for anyone to reach. We haven’t talked about it, but I don’t want to take any chances of them being contaminated. Just the thought of remembering how sick and helpless she looked when I first met her, makes me shiver.

Tia’s POV

I have a thing for power tools. I’m not sure why, especially with that not being something I shared with my father growing up. However, I’m like a kid in a candy store looking at everything Yoongi has brought to build the bed.

“This is a nailer, right? I’ve never seen one this quiet,” I ask, pointing to the tool in Yoongi’s hand.

“Yeah, it’s also called a Brad nailer. I use this one, which has an ultra-quiet air compressor, mostly when working indoors,” he answers, so patient as I continue to ask questions.

“Ah, that makes sense. So, do you usually do everything on-site? Is your saw downstairs?”

“For the most part, we work on-site unless a client calls with definitive dimensions that we can have precut before we go out. The saw is outside since your build is unique. We’ll cut the boards and sand them outside, wipe them down really good, then bring them up. I love that you decided to keep the natural wood aesthetic.”

“Yeah, it’s just so beautiful. I would hate to cover it with paint.”

“Are you wanting it stained or…?”

“I’m not sure. What do you think?”

“Personally, I think the natural color of the wood will look nice with the gold hardware you have in the bathroom and the door knobs. Also, it’d be a nice contrast against the darker hardwood floors and the whites and grays of your decor. But, honestly, once you put the bedding on, you probably won’t be able to see much of the frame.”

“Okay. Well, do whatever you think is best.”

“I mean, this is your bed. You guys have to live with it, not me,” he says with a chuckle.

“Well, I want you to like it, too.”

His questioning gaze lets me know he’s wondering exactly what I’m trying to say. A tense silence fills the room before he speaks again.

“Tia, you have boyfriends. I’m not trying to overstep here or think too much into what you’re saying.”

“What do you mean? What do you think I’m trying to say?”

I’m intentionally playing coy, trying to let him know that he can speak openly with me. I would send him some positive vibes, emitting how my heart feels, but it doesn’t seem right to use my gifts when he’s unaware of them. He seems a bit more closed off than the others initially were, so this connection is a little different for me.

“Why would it matter if I like the bed, Tia?”

The way he looks at me and his directness catches me off guard. My heart begins to race, and I feel the overwhelming urge to submit to this man. I’d be on my knees barking in a second if he told me to do so. Peering at him from under my lashes like a puppy, I’m sitting so close to him on the floor with my hands in my lap, as if waiting for instruction. He goes back to working on the bed, nailer in hand.

“Answer,” he demands without even looking at me.

Period. One word is internally driving me crazy.

“I was just thinking…” I begin, mumbling.

“Speak up,” he stops to look at me daringly.

Oh my fucking GOD!!! The tone of his voice is deep, lazy, yet commanding. Like a fucking boss.

“Ahem. I-I’m just thinking that it will be nice if you stay over some time. You should like the bed, too, if that were to happen.”

“Hmm,” he huffs while licking  the corners of his mouth.

Should I act on my body’s desire and lean over to suck his tongue into my mouth? To kiss him, right here and now?

“Is that what you want? What do you want to do with me in your new bed?”