#BTS J-Hope AU

[namfinessed]

go around - j.hs.

genre: angst, fluff (childhoodcrush! brother'sbestfriend!) (8.2k)

summary: to everyone else, he was the sun but to you, he was always the moon, the light you grabbed onto when you could see nothing.

note: grief is something very close to my heart, i've always struggled with it but i'm slowly starting to learn to live with it, i hope everyone who's experienced loss feels like some kind of relief through this, thank you for reading <3

masterlist

-

hoseok was sixteen years old when it happened.

you were thirteen.

and he had thought he was too cool for you then.

you were sitting on the other side of the mary-go-round to him, it was the last but one day of the summer camp you were part of, and you looked at him as if he hung the moon in the sky.

and hoseok felt as high as the moon that night.

but he was also sick to his stomach.

"i like you," you didn't look at him as you said it but hoseok could feel that you meant it, that it took a lot for you to get on that mary-go-round with him, spin with him, build the moon in his eyes and then say the words that he believed were stuck in your throat since when you first saw him.

he knew that your brother wouldn't like that you were saying this.

but he knew, even as a kid, that this was the most honest thing anyone's ever told him.

but he was so cool and so close to your brother, who would kill him if hoseok said anything back.

so, he didn't say anything back.

hoseok pursed his lips and looked away. he swears that, to this day, the tears shining in his eyes were nerves and not the frustration that came with not being able to hold you to the moon too.

the silent rejection didn't yet hit your soft eyes and bare heart.

you kept looking at him, hands gripping the handles so tight that your knuckles changed shades between white and pink and your cheeks puffed, excited and nervous breaths still left your lips.

and hoseok didn't want to be cool for a second there, he didn't want to care about your brother at all, maybe he would just let you take him for a bit, just a bit.

but in your thin eyebrows, he saw your brother.

in your veiny hands, he saw your brother.

in your coily, curly hair, he saw your brother.

so, he got off the mary-go-round, he walked away quickly, not pausing to look at you and he sniffed his tears away, he hugged his jacket closer to his body.

tomorrow, he would be fine.

tomorrow, no one would look at him like he was the moon and he would be okay with it.

but hoseok turned around.

the biggest mistake of his life.

the moon you thought him to be, cast a glow on the tears gathering on your chin and his heart wrenched.

he would fix this, he told himself, he would fix all of this.

but the next day, your brother, his best friend, died.

and you never spoke a word to hoseok again.

-

everything was vibrant when hoseok stepped into your home.

the unkept gardens were now blooming with flowers.

the closed windows were now open and giving a glimpse into the light inside the house.

the home was back to being a home.

he’s seen the transformation take place with his own two eyes over the years and he could confidently conclude that the ten years that cloaked your family and home in darkness were finally nowhere to be found.

and hoseok felt both delight and unease at the development.

“oh honey, you came,” there were few people hoseok could recognize with how they breathed, and your mom, his second mom basically, was one of them.

he didn’t even get to greet her before he was wrapped in a hug that surrounded him with the scent of cinnamon, musky perfume, and somehow, still his best friend.

“of course i did, ma” he kissed the top of her head, his arms not letting her go even if he knew the time for an appropriate hug was up, and she knew it too but she stayed as long as hoseok held her.

and when he let her go, he had to look away from the tears touching her eyelashes.

he probably brought back memories of his friend, maybe he still smelt like his friend too, he doesn’t know but he’s glad if he does.

his best friend’s family was unlike hoseok’s, his own family was distant and cold, and when he became an adult, he cut off all ties with them, he simply couldn’t accept them as family and your mom never let him feel as if he didn’t have one.

“the place is really packed,” hoseok whistled, looking at all the new faces and your mom nodded, “she invited a lot of her friends, i don’t know them but it’s okay, they’re having a good time, you’re here, so it’s all good,” hoseok stiffened at your mention.

you didn’t see him once in the last ten years.

slammed the door on his face.

ignored him even when your mom screamed after you.

locked yourself in your room and never got out if it meant seeing him.

and hoseok learned to accept it, he wouldn’t hang out with him either, especially after what happened.

but it was your birthday and he was invited, by your mom or you, he has no idea but hoseok steels himself to see you at some point in the night.

then, he walks around, introduces himself, ignores the pity that people eye’s throw at him, ignores the sympathetic touches on his arm, ignores the pats on the back and the ‘he must’ve been wonderful to have as a friend’ and he nods because he can’t say that yes, his best friend was an incredible friend until he fucking died.

and suddenly, hoseok wants to punch his best friend, for leaving him with this room of people who didn’t know him but somehow had all the sympathy in the world to shove in his face, for leaving him with no option but to mourn and miss him.

but hoseok was never a good mourner, he was good at going about life normally, good at laughing, good at ignoring his feelings, hoseok wasn’t good at gathering tears in his eyes when he thought of his dead best friend.

after a while, hoseok excuses himself to the bathroom and finds himself in his friend’s room, which remains frozen in time. every poster he hung up, though peeling at the edges on the wall, still stayed, every photo he stuck on top of his bedpost was yellow and faded but again, they stayed.

he doesn’t know how long he stares at their photo, the one they took in the summer camp where hoseok’s head is too small and his arms too thin and wrapped around his friend.

when he ran his fingers over the photo, he didn’t feel anything, he was grazing over hazy memories that he was desperately trying to remember as he got older but they were all slipping away or holding on too tightly at times.

“what the fuck are you doing in jay’s room?”

and he snatches his fingers away from the photo.

as he turns around, he swears he feels his heartbeat in his feet, and no amount of time could ever prepare him to face you.

you’re standing at the door with your arms crossed so defensively over your chest that he’s scared to take a single step forward but something about you, as a sixteen-year-old back then and now, a twenty-six-year-old, always takes his breath away.

and you look so much like jay, from the eyes to the hair to the hands, that he has to look away to breathe again.

“hey,” is all that comes out of hoseok’s mouth and he knows he deserves it when you roll your eyes at him.

“you’re not going to slam the door on me?” he asks and to his surprise, you shake your head, “not this time, my mom might just kill me,” you say while entering through the door and hoseok awkwardly steps around the room to reach where you sit on the bed.

he’s not sure how to feel about your mom having to force you to meet him.

and he’s not sure if he will ever be ready to see you again.

maybe you should’ve slammed the door one last time.

“happy birthday, big numbers now,” hoseok sits five feet away from you on the same bed and he watches your face soften the slightest, “thank you, and yeah, twenty-four doesn’t feel real,” you weakly laugh, falling on the bed and letting your feet dangle off the edge.

“your friends seem fun,” he stayed alert on the edge of the bed, and you nodded half-heartedly, “i guess so, did you meet them?”

“yeah, i said hi and stuff,” hoseok played with his fingers as you sat up again, “they brought up jay?”

“um yeah, they seemed to be very...empathetic about it,” he said, he didn’t know how else to say that your friends' reactions almost made him want to leave the party.

“yeah, they don’t know how to react to dead brothers or best friends, they’re not too bad though,” you laugh again and hoseok just nods, looking away.

for a moment, there’s only silence.

there’s only your breath and his.

there’s only your heartbeat and his.

and hoseok had missed this, he had missed you.

“can you believe it’s been ten years?” he asks because he can’t, he still feels as if it was yesterday that he got the phone call from you.

“i can,” you whisper, “time has been slow for me, so i can,” you’re the one looking away this time and hoseok catches your eyes roaming on the photos stuck above jay’s bed.

“do you want to go downstairs?” you get up from the bed and meet his eyes properly for the first time since you entered the room and he can do nothing but nod.

just before you step out the door, hoseok grabs your hand, immediately dropping it as you stop, “a-are you okay?” he didn’t want to ask you the question that he knows everyone else did but he also wouldn’t sleep that night without asking.

but when you laugh and disappear downstairs, hoseok ends up not sleeping anyway.

-

“thank you so much for coming by,” hoseok shook his head at your mother with the broadest smile and sweat coating his forehead, “of course ma, you can call me whenever you need help,” he pressed a kiss on the top of her head as he passed her and she pushed her face into his arm.

your mom owned a local restaurant and usually, handled everything from deliveries to cooking to serving and hoseok had chastised her multiple times about it.

even now, looking at the full restaurant, hoseok knew he couldn’t leave her to it.

so, after pushing her into the kitchen, he manned the counter for a while and made light conversation with whoever came by.

it felt strange, after so many years, being back around jay’s family, being back in this restaurant where he spent many days and nights.

he shook his head, refusing to let the memories creep back in.

he was used to this, this was just a routine to him, he always helped out, and he knew jay would do it if he was here.

“she loves you a lot already, you don’t have to do all this,” your voice isn’t something he’s used to though, not here, and hoseok’s palms start sweating immediately.

fuck.

he didn’t even put on a good outfit today.

or even perfume, now that he thinks of it.

and he curses himself when you come into view.

“i do this because i love her a lot,” he says with a smile and you roll your eyes, “yeah i know, it’s annoying,” and he frowns, “why?”

but you just wave a hand at him and go into the kitchen.

and hoseok’s left with ten people waving their bills and money at him, so he plasters a smile on his face and continues working.

after some time passes, you come back out from the kitchen with a scowl on your face and hoseok knows this because he hasn’t stopped his eyes from flickering between the kitchen door and the counter in front of him.

“i’ve got it from here, move,” you bark at him as you reach him and hoseok’s frown deepens at you, “it’s only a couple of people, i’ll finish it, don’t worry,” he reassures you but it only seems to irritate you.

“this isn’t your job, hoseok, just move over,” the glare on your face makes hoseok throw his hands up in the air and step away from the counter.

and he goes to the kitchen, he hugs your mom goodbye and he doesn’t bother with saying anything to you while he leaves because he’s sure you will only curse at him. he’s too exhausted today.

but imagine his surprise when the clock strikes midnight, you are at his door with a few soju bottles, snacks, and a sheepish smile on your face.

what the fuck were you doing at his home?

“um, hi?” he adjusts his t-shirt as he greets you, suddenly too aware of his messy hair and pajama pants as his heart once again beats away from his body.

“can i come in?” you ask sheepishly, and he immediately moves away. as you look around his apartment, hoseok still finds it hard to believe that you’re here.

even as you set up the table with soju glasses and food, he can only follow you in a daze.

“come, sit,” you say as if it wasn’t his home, his table, and his chairs but hoseok obliges and sits down.

a few minutes pass with both of you just fidgeting, looking at and away from each other, scratching your necks, and rubbing your fingers together.

until you finally grab the soju bottle and inch toward him.

you take a deep breath in and hoseok lets one out, “i shouldn’t have been so rude at the store, it’s just,” you speak as you pour soju into a shot glass for him and he sits up in his seat, “jay used to be there all the time.” you swallow, moving the bottle away from him and pouring one for yourself too.

“i was there all the time too, you know that,” hoseok says gently, as if to a child and you nod, “yeah, but it was always you and him, not just you.”

always you and him.

not just you.

and the memories that hoseok tried so hard to keep in his head, started creeping their way onto his sneakers and jeans and slipping away like sand.

the nights they snuck in to steal the leftovers.

the days he spent munching down on snacks that your mom generously gave him and jay.

the evenings where they both fanned each other with rolled-up magazines.

the days he spent admiring you at the counter.

but he couldn’t remember the dates, he couldn’t remember the details like what he was wearing that evening when jay hit him with a wooden fan, what was jay wearing when he got dumped by his girlfriend and cried to hoseok, what would jay think of this moment right now, you in front of him with a couple of soju bottles that were bound to be empty soon?

he shifted in his seat, “i won’t come over anymore, i didn’t know you felt like this,” and you purse your lips, “don’t do that, hoseok.”

“do what?” his eyebrows draw closer and you put down your glass to stare at him straight, “be so understanding and nice, just tell me to fuck off and deal with my shit instead of taking it out on you, hate me a little bit because this isn’t fair to you and you know that too.”

hoseok is stunned to silence for a second.

and he has a feeling that these words weren’t just some sudden outburst, you never spoke without letting your thoughts settle so he knows you’ve felt this for a while.

when he catches your wobbling lip and the way you shove food into your mouth to stop the movement, he knows he’s right and his heart softens even more.

“i’m not going to hate you for missing your brother, y/n.” is all he says before he slides your glass towards him and pours you a shot too.

and for a second, you just eye the glass and then look at him with tears so heavy in your eyes that hoseok is surprised they haven’t rolled down your cheeks.

“i think you’re the only one who doesn’t,” you suck in a breath and take the shot, you barely feel the liquid burn down your throat or the tears that finally release from your eyes.

when he raises his eyebrows at you, you shrug with a sniff and look away.

for the rest of the night, hoseok tries to forget that this was exactly how you looked on the mary-go-around ten years ago.

tears on your jaw.

flushed cheeks.

the same coily hair.

for the rest of the night, hoseok stops himself from falling in love again.

-

“again!” your mom threw her hands up in delight after winning one more game of ludo that hoseok had brought over.

you groaned and complained loudly to her, face held up by your elbow and hoseok watched with warm eyes as you and your mom argued about the win.

but he also felt acutely, the empty cushion next to him.

“you’re just a sore loser, learn a thing or two from hoseok,” your mom brought him back to the world, unscathed from his best friend’s haunting.

and hoseok nods proudly, dissolving into giggles when you scoff at him and your mom high-fives him.

“you’re letting her win,” you stare pointedly at him as your mom leaves to bring more snacks and hoseok shrugs happily, “guilty as charged,” and ducks with a laugh when a shower of peanut shells gets thrown in his direction.

“i knew it!” you screeched and he fell onto the floor with a belly full of joy, “mom, i told you, he was letting you win,” you stomped into the kitchen and hoseok heard more sounds of an argument from the kitchen, he rolled his eyes in endearment.

that night, you drop him in your car, and the entire ride, you’re laughing, he’s laughing, you’re speaking nonsense, he’s speaking nonsense, you’re falling on the seat to cover your face and he’s pulling his hands over his eyes to cover his face.

and at his door, you look at him with a face so free of everything.

no lines of worry on your forehead.

no frown between your eyebrows.

no hesitance to smile.

just a hint of moonlight falling over the right side of your face and some of your hair.

and hoseok wonders if he looks the same, if he looks just as beautiful and calm.

but when you keep staring at him with those curious, those tender eyes that he feels you reserve just for him, as if he has the answer to everything, as if he was the answer to everything, hoseok’s heart races in panic and buried love.

both of you realize at the same time, that ten minutes had passed and you were about two inches closer than you were at the beginning of the ride.

he stumbles out of the car, you stutter a goodbye to him and he nods hastily, urging you to leave.

that night, once again, hoseok begs himself to stop falling in love.

-

you only called him once in the many years that he’s known you and it was to tell him that jay had died, it was a freak accident, no one could’ve done anything and hoseok had thought that it was all a dream but your voice, as always, rang true in his ears and he knew that his life, as it was, would change forever.

“hoseok, i-it’s jay, someone hit him with a bike, i don’t know what’s going on, they’re saying they can’t read his pulse, please just come here, p-please.”

your sobs had shaken him so badly that he stumbled out of his camp cabin in his pajamas and he held your mom’s hand the entire time they tried to resurrect jay in the emergency room but once jay flatlined, your mom crumbled in his arms and you ran out of the hospital, you refused to look at him after that night.

and he understands why, he should’ve been there for jay, he should’ve made sure that his best friend didn’t go out for a walk that night or he should’ve gone with jay and been the one to get hit instead.

but it was all over now, and all hoseok was left with was a heavy heart filled with enough guilt for all the years he would live.

so when hoseok’s phone rang in the middle of the night with your name flashing on his screen, his brain unearthed the entire tragedy, the entire night with its roots pulled out of him and he was gasping for breath as he answered.

could it be that something happened to your mom?

did something happen to you?

did something happen to him and everyone else knew but him?

“she’s not letting us call her mom but she said your name, can you come to pick her up?” and twenty minutes later, hoseok pulled up to the only nightclub in the neighborhood to pick you up.

he struggled to hold back a laugh as he saw you draped over your friend’s arms, blissfully drunk, giggling, and utterly exhausted. when he started walking over to you, all of your friends began groaning and complaining to him about you which only made it harder for him not to laugh until your entire weight was shifted onto him and hoseok closed his eyes when you buried your face in his neck, savoring the tender moment.

just like every other minute that he’s alone with you, hoseok can’t believe this minute either.

“i’ve got her from here,” he says, carefully shifting your body to make you more comfortable and you hum in your drunken state, pushing your cheeks further into his collarbones and hoseok tries not to freeze.

“you should join us next time!” your friends all chime in together, their enthusiasm and kind intentions bleed around them and touch hoseok’s heart, maybe he had been too quick to judge them and hoseok gives in, nodding unsurely and they all erupt in cheers which makes him smile.

you had good people around you.

and that made him the happiest person in the world.

as he waves goodbye to them, his hands hold your body closer to him when you start to slide off and all of them exchange looks which hoseok ignores.

he carefully puts you in the passenger seat and pulls off the sidewalk.

he turned up the air conditioner, feeling his body get warmer and warmer as the seconds passed and he forces himself to look at the road and not you.

“hoseok?” the red light glowed on your face when he looked towards you, “yeah, it’s me, just taking you back home,” he doesn’t stop his hands from moving your hair away from your face and caressing your temples with his fingers.

how many years have passed with him missing you?

how many years of loving you has he missed out on?

he doesn’t know how jay would feel about this, maybe he would gag at hoseok’s tender eyes at this moment, perhaps he would tease him but he knows jay wouldn’t hate it.

hoseok pulls back almost immediately as you start to shift, only to relax when your face melts into his fingers.

if it didn��t feel so wrong, hoseok would’ve sat the rest of the night just looking at you and letting the rest of the world pass by.

“don’t take me to mom’s,” you whine and he laughs at your scrunched-up face, “okay, where do you want to go?”

“your’s,” you mumble, and hoseok’s face goes red, it takes him a few minutes and several cars honking at him to come back to earth.

when hoseok carefully lays you on the side of his body and takes you to his bedroom, he bears the torture of your arms tightening around his neck and the torture of your lips accidentally brushing on his skin.

“you like me, right?” you whisper into hoseok’s ear as he covers you with blankets on his bed and he freezes.

when he doesn’t respond, your eyes flutter open, still soft and fuzzy from the alcohol and you ask again, “hoseok, you like me, yes?”

and he’s taken back to the you that asked him out on a mary-go-around, the you that gave him the most honest confession of love in his life, the you that looked at him as if he ripped your heart out.

he nods, “of course i do, we’re family.” and you frown at him.

then, you sit up on the bed and lean forward to hold his face in your hands, hoseok starts sweating under the thin t-shirt he wore, and your fingers touch his face in places that he’s sure didn’t exist before, and every nerve of his melts and burns.

“i’ve always wanted to ask you something,” he says, now that there was no distinction between his breaths and yours and you nod, urging him to go on, “i thought i was always the one who had something to say,” you giggle, falling on his shoulder and hoseok laughs with you.

“why did you start talking to me again? after all this time? it can’t just be because of your mother,” and your laughter vanishes from the air around him, your touch too lifts from his shoulder, and hoseok’s confusion and curiosity grow.

he knows he’s asked the wrong thing, and said the wrong thing, he always does, but why would this question make you so upset?

he just wanted to know why after so many years of ignoring his entire existence, you suddenly chose to come to his home, and suddenly back into his life.

but he also loves that you’re back in his life.

“you don’t have to tell me, go to s-“ he gets up from the bed but is stopped by a hand grabbing his wrist tightly and he sinks back down beside you.

“my reasons are selfish, hoseok,” your tears come back and hoseok is rushing to wipe them away before they ever leave your eyes which only makes them gather faster.

“i don’t care,” he shakes his head and he really doesn’t.

“you should.”

“but i don’t.”

use him, don’t use him, throw him away, or keep him, he’s okay with it all.

your eyes search in his face, any trace of a lie, any trace of dishonesty and you find none that urges you to say, “i need you.”

a strange rush of warmth and bashfulness washes over hoseok as your words run him over.

“it hurts so much and i can’t do this alone, i need you, i just want it to stop hurting,” and hoseok’s heart stops at your broken voice because he knows what’s hurting you and nothing in the world can fix that kind of pain, “i don’t know how to live anymore, every time i come home, i miss him in the space next to my mom, i miss him in the counter that you stand at now, i miss him everywhere and i can’t say this to anyone.”

hoseok barely feels your hands grabbing his as your sobs climb up your throat, “except you, hoseok. no one knows what i feel, it’s pathetic that i miss him still but so do you, i know you feel this too, right?”

and he knows, he knows exactly what it feels like and he also knows that this was building in you since over the past ten years, the same way it’s been building in him.

that sense of loss that never goes away.

that sense of waiting for the relief that comes with moving on, that never came.

that sense of having nowhere to go and cry it out because the rest of the world doesn’t see what it’s lost, only he can and only you can.

“i do,” he finally choked out and your cries grew louder, hoseok winced at the volume and tapped your arms to calm you down but he was barely calm himself.

years and years of his grief catch up to him, run him over, trample over him and his mind ignites with every single second he spent with jay, every single he spent missing jay and then ignoring his memory.

all of it grabs him by the throat and chokes him but he lets your head fall onto his shoulder, and keeps his own tears away from his eyes as your body breaks on him.

when you were kids, hoseok had held you when you were laughing, he had felt your joy go through him, spread onto him, he could feel your happiness as if it was his own.

when you laughed in the car with him, the sound jogged his memory on how to laugh, on how to feel happiness again, he felt it go in and out of him in waves that he couldn’t control.

it was a miracle to him that just by touching someone, you can feel what they feel.

but now, holding you when you were crying, feeling every tear on his own skin, the burden of it all sunk him deeper than he could pull out of but he held you, he wrapped a singular arm around you and buried his head in your hair.

if anyone was going to know that he cried about jay, it was you and if anyone was going to miss jay with you, it was him.

and that night, he let himself fall in love.

-

the next morning, hoseok woke up with swollen eyes but a happy heart, a less lonely heart, he got up from the couch and entered his bedroom where he spent several minutes just staring at your face and stopped himself from kissing your cheek.

he stepped out of the bedroom quietly, padding his feet as gently as he could on the floor, and started preparing pancakes, hot chocolate, and everything else he could remember as something you liked as a kid.

hoseok couldn’t keep the smile off his face the entire time he whisked the batter, stirred the hot chocolate, and put out the plates. every moment that passed reminded him of you in his bedroom, it made him feel fuzzy and warm and ticklish, as if the sun had come to sit on his shoulder.

finally, his life was falling into place.

he almost jumped in excitement when the sound of his bedroom door creaking echoed throughout his apartment. he peeked around the corner to see you dragging your feet with even more swollen eyes than his and he stifled a laugh.

“good morning, pretty,” hoseok sang and giggled when your groan came as a reply.

“what’s all this?” your eyes barely opened to see the spread of food in front of you and he shrugged, “just some breakfast for you, did you take the aspirin beside  the bed?”

you nodded and stood unsurely until hoseok got up and pushed you to sit down gently, “sit down, it’s all still hot, have it soon,” he kissed the top of your head and you stiffened under him.

hoseok quickly stepped away, laughing uncomfortably, and sat down as well.

for the next few minutes, he waited as you took in everything in front of you and his heart raced the entire time.

did he do too much?

was he moving too fast?

but he had already wasted so much time over the years, he wasn’t going to make the same mistak-

“why?”

hoseok frowns at your question, leaning forward to see if he heard it right but when he looks up, he sees your tear-filled eyes and he knows he’s fucked up somehow.

“w-what happened?”

“why are you doing all this?” he doesn’t know if you’re asking him or accusing him of something.

“what do you mean?”

“why.are.you.doing.this?” you punctuate every word with quick breaths and hoseok knows he’s pissed you off.

why or how he’s done that, he has no idea.

“i thought some food would be nice in the morning, especially with your hangover,” he stumbles over his words because he didn’t think he would ever have to explain why he made breakfast for someone.

you stay quiet.

he says your name.

once.

twice.

thrice.

then, you get up from the chair and look at him with both the most anger he’s felt in someone and also, the most pain, “i can’t do this,” you mumble and in the next minute, hoseok’s door is left wide open and your seat is empty.

he watches the food go cold and tries to hold himself together as he clears everything up, all the warmth he felt in the morning disappeared down the same drain that his food went.

and all he could was watch and let it happen.

-

weeks passed and hoseok dipped in and out of the restaurant, trying to see you, catch a word with you, and try to fix things, but whenever you saw him, you ran away.

whenever he waved to you, you would hesitantly lift your hand and then look away, engaging yourself with someone else.

whenever he called you, you wouldn’t pick up.

his messages remained on delivered.

and hoseok’s heart broke little by little as he saw you intentionally pull away from him.

he couldn’t understand why, you had such a beautiful night together, you had poured your heart out to him and he had done the same to you but somehow, it was as if that night didn’t exist to you.

maybe he read it all wrong?

maybe you just needed him as someone who felt the same as you, who experienced the same grief and here he was, his heart growing wings and the love he buried blooming again.

but you had loved him ten years ago.

and that confession was still fresh in his mind, still the most honest thing he’s heard in his life.

maybe he was stupid for ever thinking that you still felt the same love from ten years ago?

but as his mind replayed your words, ‘i need you’, it didn’t make sense to him that suddenly, you wanted to push him away.

“take these when you go home,” your mom packed him multiple boxes of side dishes and rice and everything else she could cook throughout the day and he nodded, thanking her with a kiss on her head, and headed for the door.

until he heard your voice.

his entire body froze at your presence.

but he’s had enough.

hoseok turned around and started walking with loud steps towards the kitchen, and when you came into his vision, he didn’t feel the warmth or the love or any of the good stuff.

he only felt the hurt that blinded him that morning, he only felt the pain spearing his heart as he threw everything away, he only felt the loneliness that played with him until the late hours of the night.

hoseok knows he’s not the best person but he also knows that he didn’t deserve that.

“you asked me that day, why i was doing all that. let me ask you now, why are you doing this?” he glared right at you, and in the corner of his eyes, he saw your mom glance between the two of you and then duck out of the kitchen.

he will apologize to her later.

in front of him, you tilted your head at him and tried to appear tough by crossing your arms across your chest and staring back at him.

but hoseok is past this, he’s tired of being lonely but he doesn’t want this, he doesn’t want to feel lonely when he’s in love.

“look, i don’t know what’s going through your mind and i never will until you tell me, but you can’t do this to me, you can’t push and pull whenever you like, i know you’re hurting somehow but i am too, so figure yourself out and then come to me because i know that i’m not alone in this feeling, i know you feel it too.”

with that, hoseok marched out of the kitchen, hugged your mom on the way out and went back to his empty home, where he might’ve felt lonely but he at least didn’t feel miserable.

you will hopefully find your way back to him.

but if you don’t, hoseok’s just going to have to find a way to be okay with that too.

-

days passed again and hoseok tried to move on.

you didn’t call or message or try to reach him and he took it as a rejection, which was still okay, he would still be okay.

he busied himself with his work, with your mom’s restaurant, and tried to learn how to cook, tried to liven up his apartment with knick-knacks, he took up arts and crafts.

hoseok did everything he could think of and for the most part, he really was okay.

but he also really wasn’t that okay.

he drifted through the days, pushed you out of his mind, and drank a bit from time to time to forget you only to hover his finger over your contact every night, he still kept the blanket you slept on in the corner of his room and not in the laundry basket where it should’ve been.

but still.

he was okay, he told himself, he would go back to some version of himself which was okay.

hoseok walked to the restaurant with his head down, earphones in and counted his steps because he had nothing else to do.

when he reached, he still didn’t look up, he continued to his counter where he removed his hoodie and put on an apron, humming to himself and cleaning the counter up.

until your mom’s shoes came into his view and by the time he looked up, she had grabbed his arm and started shaking him which made him frown.

he looked up to see her tear-streaked face and echoes of her sobs that traveled from her hands to him and the desperate shouts he could only see with his earphones in.

his hands shakily reached up to remove his earphones and then he heard it.

the heart-stopping cries and yells.

hoseok’s eyes went round with panic and he immediately grabbed her body as she fell onto him, he tried his best to soothe her but seeing her tears, was already choking him up.

he tried to keep his panic at bay as he patted her back and tried to make sense of her babbling.

what if something happened to you?

he couldn’t deal with that kind of grief; he wouldn’t survive it.

“she hasn’t picked up a single call,” something did happen to you, and hoseok bit the inside of his cheek to hold back his sobs.

“ma,” he grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to look into his eyes, “please breathe with me,” she nodded, timing her inhalation and exhalation with him and when her sniffles subsided, she told him, “she ran away this morning, i’ve looked everywhere and i’ve called everyone, no one has seen her, i don’t know what to do and the police aren’t doing anything until she’s gone for a day but you know her, she never does this.”

she rambled endlessly to him and hoseok held onto her the entire time, feeling only a bit hurt that she never called him but that wasn’t a concern right now.

at the end of it, he offered her a glass of water, removed his apron, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head before heading straight for the door.

“hoseok,” he stopped at her voice, “i only didn’t call you because i know you two aren’t doing well right now, otherwise you know you’re like my son.” and hoseok melted, he smiled and took her hands as he said, “don’t worry about that ma, we’re family, you keep calling people and i’ll try to find her.”

he didn’t know what to feel once he stepped out of the restaurant.

in the restaurant, he could focus on reassuring and comforting your mom, he could place all his energy into caring for her but now, he was alone and he didn’t know what to feel.

hoseok got into his car only to realize he didn’t know where to fucking begin, you could be anywhere by this time, even a different city but he has a feeling that you were not too far.

but he didn’t know that with certainty either.

every thought he had only put him in a chokehold as his mind reeled with every worst-case scenario.

nevertheless, he put his fears aside and started the car.

the next few hours, he drove in every street, looked in every club and café, kept checking his phone some one million times, and stopped at the entrance of his summer camp where his life seemed to begin and end.

jay would’ve had a panic attack if he was here with hoseok right now, hoseok smiled as he thought of how worried jay would’ve been and how he probably would’ve cursed you out after finding you, how he would’ve hugged you and hoseok in relief, how he would never let it happen again.

jay would’ve been so many things if he was still there with hoseok and that killed hoseok every day.

he kept staring at the entrance where he ran out of the day jay died, where he held back his tears and shook his head and told himself that it was all a lie, that his best friend was still alive.

hoseok threw his head back on his car seat.

grief was so unfair; it took away so much and left him with so little.

if it was so hard for him, he couldn’t imagine how much more angry or sad grief would’ve made you over the years.

and just as he blinks back tears, his phone rings and he runs his hand over his face to answer it, “ma, i’m still out, don’t worry, we’ll find her,” he starts reassuring only to hear nothing on the other end.

“hello?” he frowns.

“hoseok?”

and he almost drops his phone in relief.

“god, are you okay?” he immediately sits up, starting the car again, “where are you? i’m coming to get you right now, what the fuck were you thinking?”

“why aren’t you home?”

“huh?”

“why aren’t you home right now?”

“are you at my place?” hoseok frown becomes even deeper and he knows your silence only means one thing, he sighs out, “stay there.”

and he’s turning the car, calling your mom to tell her the news, and feeling a hundred different emotions as he reaches the lane of his apartment.

right by his door, he finds you, sitting on the floor with your knees to your chest and the rocks slid off his shoulders, he feels air enter his chest at the sight of you, unharmed and safe and breathing and…alive.

he doesn’t know why he’d even thought as far as you being dead but he couldn’t help it.

it was midnight but the moonlight, as always, found you and your tears, and hoseok sat right next to you and stretched his legs out in front of him.

 “why didn’t you say anything back?” he hears you mumble and he frowns, “when?”

“that day in summer camp, when i told you i liked you, why didn’t you say anything back?”

and hoseok sighs, the secret he’s held in his heart for as long as he remembers, starts crawling up his throat, “i like you too,” and his lack of using the past tense has you sitting up straight, tears now reduced to sniffles.

“you do?” and the way you ask it almost has him hitting his own head, how did he ever let you think otherwise?

“i would be crazy if i didn’t,” he smiles weakly at you, his heart suddenly exposed and raw and beating louder than it ever has before, and you fall back on the wall, “but you just walked away then.”

and hoseok knows he can’t hide it anymore.

“i didn’t say anything because i went to jay,” hoseok recalls how cold the night was, how quick his steps were to reach his best friend and he watches your face light up and fall, all in just seconds.

“i needed to ask him if it was okay, i needed to tell him that i liked his sister and that i wanted to take care of her, and he didn’t like it,” hoseok shakes his head, a strained laugh leaving his lips, “we fought all night, but i guess he saw how much i meant it, so he gave me his blessing,” he looks up at you and you’re closing your eyes, letting your head fall back.

“he gave us his blessing, y/n, he did and that’s why i’ve never given up on you, he was so dramatic about it, you would’ve hit him if you saw him say it,” he laughs, the memory still so fresh of jay hugging hoseok and whispering to him that he would be dead the next second if he ever hurt you, how jay stopped himself from smiling as he thought of you with him.

he kept that close to his heart and never told anyone about it, it was for him and jay until today but now, it was for you too.

every time he felt bitter over the years that you avoided him, hoseok reminded himself that he loved you and he always will, and jay would love that hoseok loved you.

and you’re holding back sobs that still escape and tear into the world.

“i’m sorry,” he hears you say and he hums before placing your head on his shoulder, he tries not to cry when he feels your sobs, he sniffles and looks at his feet.

“i was so scared that morning, i told you everything i’ve never told anyone the night before and you still treated me with love, i thought you would tell me to leave, that you would finally have had enough but you didn’t and it still scared me. you shouldn’t be in my life hoseok, i will ruin you,” his heart sinks and hoseok moves closer to you because he doesn’t know where he belongs if it’s not beside you.

“i don’t want to be anywhere else,” he says and presses his hand to the side of your head.

“i can’t stop missing him, hoseok, i don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you shake your head and he sighs, feeling his throat close up.

“i miss him too.”

“but it’s been so long and i feel like i should move on by now, i don’t know,” you mumble, your tears falling into his shirt and skin.

“jay’s not some ancient history but i think he would hate both of us for being stuck like this.”

“i don’t know another way to live.”

“neither do i,” he shrugs, he knows how lonely he’s felt, how solitary his life was but, “but it will always hurt, sometimes a little, sometimes a lot, you lost a brother, a companion for life, i lost a best friend, my soulmate and it’s always going to hurt. but i don’t want either of us to be alone in that pain, we don’t deserve that.”

life can take everything away from him but if we had a few good people and he could love those people, that was enough for him.

“it’s about time we start living for jay, do everything he would’ve done, feel everything he would’ve felt, and keep him alive, don’t you think so?”

and when you nod, fall on his shoulder, and whisper your love to him, it’s just like the first time, the most honest words he’s heard in his life.

hoseok knows his life can sometimes feel empty but sometimes, like right now, it can feel so full that he wouldn’t know what to do with all the love he gave and received.

he whispers his love back to you.

until dawn, you cried on his shoulder, and in the morning, hoseok made breakfast for you, you kissed him and whispered your thanks, he kissed you and whispered his love again, and you smiled and ate the food he made.

and it was calm, normal, another day but everything had changed once again for hoseok.

because this time, he had you and you had him, and in both your hearts and minds, you had jay.

and you learned to live life again, with love, and not just regret, with happiness, and not just guilt.

you lived, not just to grieve and mourn, but to actually live and build a life, with hoseok right by your side. he lived, without

-

taglist: @blissingtaehyung @cuteipat @hobicorewhore @yoongleskitten @mrjeonghan @greenie-frog @avawants2havefun @an-ever-angry-bi @alyenorgondorwarrior thank you all so much for liking the preview, i hope you enjoy the full fic <3]

[kittyscupcakeandbunny]

My BFF is a Vampire

18+

BLOOD SUCKERS

Characters: ot7 x reader

Warnings: mentions of violence, described sex scenes, death, consumption of alcohol and blood, threesome, male and male intercourse, explicit sexual interactions, sharp objects, knife play, wax play, blood play, and more.

Genre: supernatural, fantasy, vampire, angst, reversed harem, best friends to lovers.

🩸My Master List🩸

Intro;

I knew something was wrong in the small city I’ve been living ever since I was born here and after I graduated from high school I was sure it had nothing to do with the fact that the whole year this small hell of a city called Spring Villa always rained every day.

Every god damn day.

Not that i was complaining, one summer during a high school trip to California was enough for me to realize hot weather was not for me. One day to be more specific, it was my first time and everything seemed so more alive and colorful. But all come to an end since i had to spend the rest of the trip at the hospital with an IV inside my arm due to being exposed to the sun for too long, just one afternoon which was the same as everyone else did but i was the only one who almost died that day for burning on the sun and end up looking like a hot Cheeto. After that i even started to enjoy the cold humid air hitting my face every day when i left to work, the only thing it didn’t change was my hatred for the rain every morning. Getting wet before work was not very enjoyable, everyone could agree on that note.

But the beautiful weather of the city was not the most uncanny thing about it, it has been almost ten years since a serial killer was circling around the Spring Villa. I was only a teen when everything became known to everyone in the city that something wasn’t right, so many bodies were found around Spring Villa along the years people began to stay at home locked away from everything. Some left the city for once and never came back, those who stayed were people who had nowhere else to go, like me.

My father was terrified of the accidents involving the serial killer in town and he too left before anyone else, leaving me and my mother behind. I couldn’t blame him especially after my brother ended up becoming one of the victims, when the police officer called for my parents to identify the body it didn’t felt real to me. I was not allowed to go since at the time i was underage but, I didn’t even got a chance to say goodbye either. My parents didn’t do a funeral for him, it was all too much to bear so instead he was cremated and thrown on a river on the west side of Spring Villa his favorite place to hide with his friends. Ever since that happened my parents have not been the same, I knew that sooner or later this was bound to happen. When father left it was the last straw of sanity of my mother, she became an alcoholic and well… not good.

I’ve been working at the Spring Grill ever since I graduated high school, apart from so many people leaving the city many others came from cities around the town to get a bit of incloser about the serial killer of Spring Villa, he was never caught and that mystery seemed to amaze many tourists around town.

People from all over came to my stupid silly little city to make videos about the killer of my brother, at first I was so angry at them I wished they just didn’t came at all but, over the years it became dull and empty inside my heart. I had more to worry about then that and since I needed money to pay the rent I was more then happy so many tourist came to Spring Villa.

After all I meet my best friend like that.

Notes: Hello readers! Here’s a new story for all of you I truly hope you guys enjoy this work as much as you all been enjoying my old works. This story has been going around my mind a lot and I thought what better time to write then now? So here it is! Taglist is open so leave your request in the comments and I’ll add you! Love all of you, Author. 🩵

[chimcess]

Time After Time || jhs (Teaser)

Pairing: Time Traveler!Hoseok x Time Traveler!ReaderOther Tags: Scientist!Hoseok, Author!Reader, British!Hoseok, Older!Hoseok, Age Gap!AU Genre: Time Travel!AU, Early 2000s AU, Strangers to Lovers, Idiots to Lovers, Angst, Fluff, Eventual Smut Word Count: TBD Summary: You're a young time traveler, drifting seamlessly between the past and present, living a fragmented life, never staying long enough in one time to form lasting connections. Everything changes upon encountering Hoseok, a brilliant scientist you had met in one of your adventures. Your journey takes a darker turn when you uncover the truth behind your mother's death, revealing a chilling connection to your abilities and the grim reality that your days are numbered. Determined to defy fate, Hoseok tirelessly searches for a solution to save you. As time becomes both an ally and an enemy, you face immense challenges, testing the resolve and strength of your bond. A/N: We have a new mini-series coming! Diving back into the fantasy genre has been really exciting, and I'm so happy to have this for you all. After spending the last year writing this off and on in between my other projects, it's finally finished and ready to start the final editing phase! I hope you love these characters as much as I do and enjoy the little world I crafted!

I had never given much thought to how I’d die. Two months, two years, two decades- it did not matter. Never could I have guessed this would be my final moments, body shaking and unable to stop myself from sizing as I watched my life flashing before my eyes. Every memory whip past me, body going in and out of the past and present in rapid succession until I could no longer breathe. Still, as afraid as I was, I never allowed my eyes to shut. If I was going to die, I wanted- needed- to see him first. My eyes rolled back, another powerful seizure overtaking my body.

“Y/N!”

I could not muster the strength to come back into my own body yet. On the inside I smiled. I wanted to tell him that I was sorry things had to end like this. That I would miss him. That I loved him. All the words that I was never able to say no matter the thousands of times they were on my lips. I felt hands grabbing hold of me. It was no use, I could feel my body bursting into another ray of light.

“What’s happening to you?” He sobbed.

Finally able to speak, I looked at him. I cemented him into memory. His thin-wired glasses, the color of his eyes, the curve of his cheek, the shape of his lips, and how wet his face was from his tears. If this was the last moment I had with him, I wanted it to matter. Reaching out, I could only hope I had enough time to say something- anything.

“I think I’m dying,” I croaked, head splitting open and body about to be taken somewhere else. Somewhere he wasn’t. “I love you.”

“I-”

But I never got to hear what he wanted to say. For my body was already getting sent back through time. Where? I was not certain, but I knew I was going to die at the end of this. There was no way my body could handle such violent changes. I closed my eyes.

At least I got to say it.

Coming September 2024...

Message/Ask/Comment to be added to the taglist.

[xjoonchildx]

kanalia | jhs x reader | chapter five: the king is a fool

banner by the amazing, incredible @kth1

⚜️summary: secrets and uncertainty plague a young queen in her arranged marriage to a kind but distant king. the farther she drifts from her husband, the closer she gets to one of his most trusted men.

⚜️pairing: queen!reader x royalguard!hoseok

⚜️rating: mature, 18+

⚜️genre: royal AU, historical AU, smut

⚜️warnings: infidelity (it’s complicated, y’all) mentions of pregnancy, fertility issues. OC struggles with depressive thoughts and episodes.

⚜️word count: 10K

⚜️notes: the queen is hot and bothered, literally & figuratively. the king puts several Ls in the disappointed but not surprised category, everyone gets drunk at some point. lord min is a terrible archer, yeona remains round and winning. the queen could melt steel with her sexual frustration, lord jung is not faring much better but at least he knows what he's doing, slightly awkward marital smut. the queen fights with everyone.

i could never have finished this chapter without these amazing authors & minds @miscelunaaa and @vyduan and one person who would probably level us all with her first fic if she decided to write one, @hobi-gif. please let me re-iterate how much it means to me that any one of you reads my stories, and it would make me endlessly happy to talk to you about it. you can talk to me here 💕

previous chapter final chapter

Hyeri is curious.

She examines the stains at the hem of your walking dress with narrowed eyes, pausing her thorough study of the red-brown splotches only to steal the occasional furtive glance your way.  

Her lips purse as she shakes dirt loose from the grooves of your walking boots. She watches the sediment fall to the floor with a raised brow, uncharacteristically quiet as she reaches for the broom to sweep the mess away.

But her bewilderment only grows as she draws closer.

The older woman’s posture stiffens as she regards you, lips pulling into a thin line as she takes in the state of your wind-swept hair and grimy fingernails. You must reek of the ill temper you’ve brought back from your ride, the smell of it as pungent as the sweat and horse on your clothes. She tests your temperament in much the same way as she tests your bathwater, query as feather-light as the fingertip she skims along the surface.

“Are you… well, this evening, Your Grace?”

“As well as I ever am,” you answer succinctly, accepting her hand and stepping carefully into the tub. Woven into the spaces between each of your clipped words is rebuke; a silent warning to proceed no further. Your handmaid, who is by no means a meek woman, has the good sense to heed it.

So Hyeri says nothing as she takes a comb to the tangles in your hair, working them apart with peach oil. She says nothing as she scrubs away the dirt embedded beneath your normally pristine fingernails. And she says nothing still when you wince at the ache in your thighs as she helps you from the bath.

When the heavy chamber door finally pulls behind her, shutting the stares and the questions safely out, you make your way to bed. You extinguish the lamp on your nightstand and welcome the shadows.

And then you succumb to the darkness that envelops you, inside and out.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Steamy heat has put an end to weeks of pleasant fall weather. 

You’ve sought refuge this afternoon beneath a tree at the edge of the castle’s sprawling open field. The oak, though grand, offers scant protection from the midday sun. A bead of sweat trickles down your neck and disappears into the linen at your décolletage. 

“Between you and me, I’ve always found hunting to be an appalling sport.”

Boram shakes her head at the scene in the distance. The King and his men claim to be training for an upcoming hunt, but by all appearances, there is little training taking place. Instead they look to be bandying about like mischievous little boys, scrambling for position in front of the straw targets with bows in hand. 

“I find it to be an exercise in vanity more than ability. Little more than male preening disguised as sport.” Boram dabs at her brow with a handkerchief and sighs. “What do you think?”

You don’t answer Boram’s question on account of your distraction. Try as you might to keep your eyes on the dashing elder Lord Kim or the charming young Lord Jeon or – heaven forbid, your husband – they wander to Lord Jung instead, over and over and over again. Your gaze pulled to his strong face as though drawn by a magnet.

He turns his head and his dark eyes find yours across the distance.

The butterflies you’ve felt in his presence before are not to blame for the unsettled feeling that comes over you now. The very sight of the man makes your stomach turn over, as though you can taste the vivid recollection of the last time you saw him. 

The memory of that wonderful ride – and of the horrible way it ended – are still bitter on your tongue. Like picking the most beautiful fruit in the orchard only to find it sour and decaying inside. 

“Your Grace?”

You blink.

“I say this to you as my friend and not my Queen,” Boram says, pausing to clear her throat. “You don’t seem yourself today. Is there anything you want to talk about?”

“Nothing at all,” you lie quickly, smoothing down the damp curls springing up around your ears. “I’m fine, truly. Though I suppose it is possible the heat is making me cross. I can barely think in such conditions.”

“Awful, isn’t it?” Boram laments, reaching over to give Yeona’s belly a tickle. The baby curls into herself like a starfish, giggling as she rolls around on the blanket. “Yoongi says it will take a rain to break it. But until then, we must all suffer.”

“And suffer we shall,” you echo under your breath, watching Lord Jung load his bow in the distance. He sets his lithe body in a precise stance then draws his arm back and releases his arrow. It flies in a tight arc and lands just below the bullseye on the target. The men erupt into raucous cheers. You resist the urge to scowl.

“As for the hunting,” you add, “I think men are just as guilty of the frivolity they so often accuse women of. Not that any one of them is likely to admit it.”

“No, I suppose not,” Boram laughs. “Men are not known to be skilled in the art of introspection.”

“They certainly are not.”

And why should they be? Men never have to stop and consider the consequences of their actions. They alone decide the rules of engagement. They are free to be as vain and as frivolous and as thoughtless as their hearts desire. Horrid, infuriating creatures.

Lord Min steps up to the target. His stance is uneven and his arrow is wild the very second he lets it loose. It flies yards from the target and lands off in the grass. The men jeer loudly.

“Poor Yoongi,” Boram winces as she watches the men tease him. “He’s never been much of an archer, I’m afraid.” But the good-natured Lord Min appears to take it all in stride, shrugging off their taunts as he trades his bow for a fresh tankard of ale.

The King takes his turn next – the lines of his body thicker and stronger than Lord Jung’s, but no less elegant. The men circle around your husband as he draws the bow back with one strong arm. He takes careful aim with his arrow and deftly plants it just above the target’s bullseye. The sound of the men’s whooping echoes across the field.

And so it goes for a while, with the men taking turns loosing their arrows to varying degrees of success.

Lords Park and Jeon both prove to be adequate archers, hitting the targets more often than not. The elder and younger Lord Kims are less skilled and spend the lion’s share of their time plucking arrows from the grass behind the targets. Lord Min quickly gives up on the endeavor entirely, opting instead to sit with his ale and heckle the others.

But the two best archers on the field refuse to be distracted by drink.

The King and Lord Jung set an arduous pace, loading and firing their arrows in quick succession. Even at a distance, even with your meager knowledge of archery, you can discern that both men are quite evenly matched in terms of skill. They load, fire, and strike their respective targets with precision.

On and on they persist – despite the brutal heat, despite the fact that the other men have begun to tire. One by one the other Guardsmen surrender, abandoning their bows and collapsing onto the grass to watch. 

“These two seem quite serious, don’t they?” Boram notes. 

They certainly do. The air of silly fun that’s sat over the group for much of the afternoon is all but gone now and what began as a diversion for all of the men has clearly become a challenge between just two. The other Guardsmen seem to sense the shift in atmosphere as well, their faces earnest as they watch the King and Lord Jung compete.

Physically, the two men are quite different. The King’s muscular arms and chest serve him well as he steadies his bow and fires. In contrast, Lord Jung’s body is lithe, sleek. He moves with an agility the King cannot. But both wear matching expressions of determination. And though this competition might have been amiable at the start, it’s now evident that neither man is willing to leave the field without a clear victor.

Lord Min calls out to them both – voice too distant for you to make out his words – and the men appear to nod in agreement. They both step back from the targets, increasing the difficulty of each shot. But it takes only a few more arrows to prove that the added distance is no hindrance to either man. Both set their stances again, both aim and fire, and both land their arrows with ease.

The Guardsmen sitting nearby fall silent, and in the absence of their racket the King’s answering growl of frustration echoes over the entire field. 

“Oh my,” Boram whispers. “I’d heard there was some tension between them, and it would certainly appear to be so.”

It certainly would. Right now, the King and Lord Jung look more like rivals seeking to settle a score than lifelong friends. 

The King’s agitation is apparent in every move he makes, in the way he jerks the arrows out of the straw targets and stalks back into position. Lord Jung’s agitation is equally apparent. He accepts a skin of water from Lord Min without so much as a thanks and hands it back once he’s drained it.

It’s a strange thing to see the handsome Guardsman challenge his King with the very same passion in which he’d defended him just days prior.

“Has the King spoken to you about it?”

“No,” you admit stiffly, “He has not. Are you determined to keep me in the dark, as well?”

“Heavens, no,” Boram protests, pulling Yeona into her lap. She hands the baby a rice cake and Yeona sets to gumming at it right away. “I would never want you to think that I’m speaking ill of the King, is all.” 

“I could never think that of you.”

There is hesitation in Boram’s face when she flicks her dark eyes back to meet yours. 

“Well, the details I have are few,” she starts slowly. “But what I know is that the King expressed a wish to see Lord Jung married again and Lord Jung, from my understanding was – ” she pauses, carefully considering her next words,“ – less than amenable to the idea.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Yoongi says they fought over the matter. Quite thoroughly, from what I’ve been told.”

“I see,” you say, taking great care to keep your expression impassive. “And did Lord Min explain why Lord Jung is so opposed to marriage? He’s still a young man. I can certainly see why the King would think it a logical proposition.”

Boram’s lips purse as she thinks.

“I do not know that I can say. Though I consider Lord Jung to be a dear friend, he can be terribly private about some matters.”

You cut your eyes towards the field to search for the man in question. 

Does she really know Lord Jung? Do you? Today there is no sign of the man who’d leveled you with a smile in the Great Hall, no trace of the man who’d teased you about riding clothes before helping you onto your mount. The man you see now wears a strained expression as he watches the King take aim, his energy volatile like a pot ready to boil over. 

Perhaps you’d been foolish to think him so different from the King. Perhaps they are as evenly matched in the art of duplicity as they are the skill of archery.

“So what will come of it?” you ask after a while. “Will the King – make him marry?”

“I don’t know,” Boram admits. “And therein, I suppose, is where much of the tension lies. Lord Jung has already taken a bride once in service to the Kingdom. I can’t imagine he’d be inclined to do it again.”

There’s a sudden commotion on the field then, an outburst that has Lords Park and Jeon on their feet. The younger men rush to meet the King and Lord Jung mid-field, nodding as the King speaks. Both take off running at once. 

“I’ve no clue what that is all about, but I do wish they’d end this already,” Boram grumbles, watching the young men disappear behind the tree line as they go off in search of whatever it is the King’s asked for. “I don’t know how much longer I can last in this heat.”

“Nor I,” you agree, watching the King and Lord Jung speak to one another. Both men look sober, the lines of their faces hard. “But it seems we’ll all have to endure it for just a bit longer in order to humor this contest of male prides.”

Some arduous minutes later, Lords Park and Jeon make their return to the field.

The dust kicked up by the horses they ride precedes them, the ground parched from weeks without rain. Both men arrive in a cloud of grime – Lord Jeon on the King’s mount and Lord Park on Lord Jung’s– and dismount without delay, handing the reins over to their elders.

So this is how they will decide the victor.

“Well, let’s hope they keep their wits about them,” Boram sighs. “Lest they both break their legs in the heat of competition.”

“Yes, let’s,” you mutter.

The King is first to take his turn, of course. 

He mounts Jeonsa with ease despite the horse’s grand height and takes his time warming the warhorse up. The King runs his mount in circles around the target until he’s satisfied with his plan and the timing of his shot. He steadies himself against the jostling with his strong thighs, pulling his bow back to fire. The arrow hits the target just below the bullseye. 

The men, who’ve spent hours now drinking in the hot sun, erupt into a chorus of ruffian cheers. 

Lord Jung wastes no time taking to his own mount. His horse is leaner and quicker than Jeonsa, and it’s clear that he commands complete control of the animal’s every step. Both horse and rider move as one as he urges his mount faster, straightening his back to fire. The arrow hits the target just above the bullseye.

The men are getting rowdy now, egging on both competitors as they circle on their horses. Their shouting is louder, more animated, and you would not at all be surprised if there were a few healthy wagers underway. You wonder which of the men they’ve bet on. 

You wonder which of the men you would bet on before pushing the thought away and reminding yourself that you’re not particularly fond of either at this moment. 

The King circles Jeonsa around the target once again, taking his time about it. He seems to consider every circumstance surrounding his next shot – the angle, the speed, the light wind that blows east. After a great deal of circling and thought, he rears back to release his arrow.

It lands on the target, just above the arrow planted by Lord Jung. 

The shouting from the men becomes a low roar.

Lord Jung pointedly ignores the commotion, rolling his shoulders as he stares down the target, brow knit in concentration. Soon he’s urging his mount to move, the pair fluid as they circle the target. 

Just like the King, Lord Jung circles longer for this shot than he had for the first. Twice he draws back as though ready to fire and thinks better of it. But after painstaking deliberation, he finds his stride. He pulls his arm back and sets his stance. Then he releases his arrow. 

And it misses the target entirely.

It flies off the end of Lord Jung’s bow with astonishing speed, gliding just to the right of the straw and landing off in the distance. The men are on their feet now, jumping and yelling and slapping one another on their backs. Lord Jung shakes his head in disgust.

“Well,” Boram reaches for her basket, loading her things into it with haste. “That’s settled now. I certainly hope at least one of them feels better. Let’s move into more liveable conditions, shall we?”

You open your mouth to agree just as you spot the King barreling towards you atop Jeonsa, leaving the men celebrating his victory on the field behind. 

You nearly stumble over the hem of your dress in your rush to rise to your feet. Your husband is grinning widely when he reaches you, stopping his mount long enough to extend one large hand. You place your hand in his and he dips his head to plant a kiss on your fingers.

“Well done, You Grace,” you demur, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “A hard-fought victory.”

“Thank you. I’m quite pleased with the outcome.”

The King acknowledges Boram with a smile before turning his mount to ride back to his men. You put a hand to your brow to shade your eyes and watch as they cheer for him – reward him with the adulation he’s clearly worked so hard for. 

But a thought occurs to you as you examine the scene in the distance. 

There is no sign of Lord Jung. 

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

The King comes to you that night – hair damp and smelling of fine soap, breath tinged faintly with ale. 

He coaxes you to your knees just as he’s done so many times before. His fingers slide against your most secret place, slippery just as they’ve been so many times before. And then he’s pushing inside you, hard and hot just as he’s been so many times before.

But there is something different about him tonight.

Your husband’s touch is rougher than you remember. His grip on your waist is harder than you remember, large hands moving from your waist to your backside to dig his blunt fingertips into the soft flesh. His thrusts are more forceful than you remember, more erratic, powerful enough to push you up the length of the bed. 

You fist your hands into the bedding and push back, refusing to allow your knees to buckle under the pressure. That earns you a low groan from the King – a sound that strikes a strange chord inside you; sends a shiver racing up your spine. You press your hot face into the sheets.

Perhaps Namjoon is still feeling the effects of an arduous afternoon in the hot sun. Perhaps he’s still in his cups after a night of drinking with his men. 

Or perhaps it is all just a trick of your mind.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Morning brings no improvement in your mood. Quite the opposite, in fact. 

You wake snappish, jarred from a fitful sleep by the sudden appearance of light in your chamber. Shafts of it – hot and harsh – stream through your windows, spill across your duvet, assault your eyes. You bury your face in the pillow in a futile attempt to avoid it, sweat beading at the nape of your neck until the uncomfortable warmth forces you to quit the bed.

But the rude manner of your awakening is only one reason for your irritation.

The other is the lingering tenderness between your legs, a dull ache you can feel with each careful step. The sensation is more an annoyance than a true discomfort, but it vexes you nonetheless. Each muted throb serves as an unwelcome reminder of your visit from the King, of the peculiar way he’d bedded you last night. 

Your face flames as you think of it.

What is he about, your husband? And what of the juvenile, chest-thumping nonsense you’d witnessed yesterday afternoon? The combative way he’d gone up against Lord Jung and the grand show he’d made of coming to you to fête his victory. Boorish, absurd behavior – all of it. 

You go about your morning ablutions in silence, unwilling to meet Hyeri’s eyes for even one moment. You are in no mood to withstand her meddling today – well-intentioned or otherwise – and so it is for the best that she helps you wash and dress in relative silence. 

If there is something the older woman means to say, she has the good sense to swallow it, murmuring only a quiet warning about the heat as you slip out the chamber door.

And heavens, how you are wholly unprepared for the heat.

It, too, has worsened overnight – the air around you nearly thick enough to drink. You hurry towards the aviary, spurred on by the promise of the shade beneath its trees, but by the time you are finally seated at your desk you are soggy and sticky all over. Slick with sweat between your thighs and beneath your arms and breasts. 

Perhaps you should have heeded Hyeri’s warning. 

The thought rankles you as you open your book and attempt to pick up your story where you’d left it. You start and stop the same sentence over and over again, the heat so tyrannical that you can barely breathe, much less think. Even the King’s prized birds refuse to fly under such conditions – opting instead to perch on the highest branches, wings lifted to cool themselves with the occasional passing breeze. 

The stillness unnerves you; makes your aggravation mount with each unbearable minute that ticks by and before long, you throw your novel down in frustration. This will not do.

Loathe as you are to spend another day confined to the castle’s thick stone walls, there is no avoiding it. You’ll not survive another half hour in this heat, which means you’ll certainly not be able to pass an entire afternoon in it. You huff as you throw your things back into your basket and stalk off towards the aviary’s entrance.

But perhaps you should have been more mindful.

Immersed as you are in this black mood, you don’t notice the brambles growing at the edge of the heavy gate. You brush past them in a hurry, only to be wrenched back by the thorns that take hold of your skirt. You tug at the material with your free hand, successful only at tearing a hole in the fine linen but unsuccessful at pulling yourself free. You drop your basket in the struggle and the contents spill out, an apple rolling to a stop at your feet.

It is then that you do something very unladylike, something that would have earned you an exaggerated gasp from your sister or a sharp rebuke from your mother. 

You swear. Loudly.

You summon all of your frustration and scream what is perhaps the most undignified word you know at the very top of your lungs, the vulgarity echoing in the aviary’s eerie quiet. And though it’s done nothing to solve your current predicament, there’s something truly satisfying about speaking the nasty word out loud, about shouting it into existence.

That is, until someone coughs.

“I take it you need some help, Your Grace?”

You clap a hand over your mouth as you whirl in the direction of the voice.

Lord Min approaches slowly, eyes sparkling with amusement as he takes in your sorry state. You’ve no idea where he came from, but at this very moment you’ve never been so horrified and grateful to see him, all at the very same time. 

“Yes, I – ” you start and stop, flustered by both your behavior. “ – I’m stuck. The brambles are caught in my skirt and – ”

“Oh yes, I see,” he says, leaning down to examine the mess you’ve gotten yourself into. He tugs at the bottom of your skirt and you wince at the sound of the fabric tearing. “You’ve got yourself quite tangled up here, haven’t you?” 

“I believe I have,” you admit with embarrassment. Lord Min gets down on his knees and begins plucking thorns and burs out of the fabric, brow knit with concentration as he attempts to extricate what remains of your fine linen dress.

You clear your throat.

“My Lord, I hope I didn’t – Well, rather, I hope you were not offended by that word you heard me say. It’s not a word that I usually use, not really. Well, not ever. What I mean to say is that I know of coarse language, of course, but I’m certainly not in the habit of using it.”

“What word?” Lord Min interrupts your rambling from his perch at your feet, eyes wide with feigned innocence. “Did you say something, Your Grace? I must not have heard it.”

The corners of his mouth curve into a cautious smile, which you return with a timid one of your own. His teasing is welcome. It brings badly-needed levity to your embarrassing situation and lightens the heaviness of this atrocious day.

“What’s this, Min?”

At once, the gesture dies on your lips.

Lord Jung comes into view by way of the same path taken by Lord Min, though his sudden appearance does not bring you the same kind of relief. Quite the opposite, in fact. 

The very moment he’s standing before you, critical gaze moving from you to Lord Min and back, you feel absolutely lightheaded with anxiety. You wonder what he must make of the scene he’s stumbled upon: Lord Min on his knees, at your feet, hands fisted in your skirts. 

“You Grace.” The lines of Lord Jung’s beautiful face are hard as he acknowledges you, his voice stiff and formal in a way that makes it foreign to your ears. He bows to you much in the same way, body rigid as he performs the required motion.

“My Lord,” you return with similar formality.

“Her Grace is stuck,” Lord Min explains, unaware or perhaps unbothered by the provocative position the two of you have been discovered in. “I’m trying to free her without ripping this linen to shreds. Could use your help, seeing as you’re standing there. Push that branch back for me?”

“Yes, of course.”

Oh, but now you feel a migraine coming on. Lord Jung squeezes into the space beside you, leaning over Lord Min to push the brambles back so that the older man may have both hands free to work. At this point, both men are too close, but he is far too close. Heat blazes a path up your neck and into your cheeks. 

Inhale, you twit. Exhale.

“Last few, Your Grace,” Lord Min announces, voice muffled by your skirts. “I think the linen will need a bit of mending, but not much more.”

“Thank you, My Lord.”

Lord Jung’s gaze connects with yours. His dark eyes, normally so warm and expressive, are flat as he regards you. In fact, everything about the handsome guardsman’s countenance is uncharacteristically severe today, from the deep knit of his brows to the way his bow-shaped mouth presses into a firm line. He looks away from you without so much as a smile.

Is he – is he angry with you?

Your mouth nearly falls open at the realization. What right would Lord Jung have to be angry with you? It was he who’d laid the trap with the promise of a perfect afternoon spent riding and he who’d sprung the trap by defending your husband���s dishonesty. 

If either one of you had a just claim to animosity, it would most certainly be you. 

The awful word you’d uttered at the very start of this ridiculous dilemma springs right to the tip of your tongue. If only you had the courage to spit it at him. Horrid, infuriating man.

“There now,” Lord Min announces. “I think we’ve got it. Hang on to that bramble for a bit longer while Her Grace steps away from the gate.”

You start forward slowly, steps mercifully unencumbered by gnarled plants. Though Lord Min has done his best to salvage the fine linen, your skirt is now covered in a fine dusting of grime, torn in places from your knees to your ankles. Hyeri will have a fit when she sees you, but you couldn’t care less about the state of your ruined dress. The only thing that matters now is quitting this place at once.

“Thank you so much, Lord Min,” you breathe, dropping to your knees to gather your scattered things. The elder guardsman helps you retrieve the wayward charcoals and papers, which you hurriedly stuff back into your basket. “I’ll be off now and won’t take up any more of your afternoon.”

With that, you rush to your feet and turn on your heels to leave. You try not to think about the scene you’re leaving behind – Lord Min puzzled by your sudden exit, Lord Jung affronted by the fact that you’d pointedly ignored him in your thanks. 

You make haste with those first few steps towards freedom, only to be pulled back once again. Only this time, not by jagged brambles.

“Your Grace.”

The hairs on the back of your neck stand at the sound of the gruff voice behind you. You turn around slowly, acutely aware of both men watching your every move. When Lord Jung steps forward, your eyes fall to the gently worn leather binding in his hands. 

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” 

You take great care to school your features, though the panic rising inside of you threatens to spill out. Your most private thoughts are inside that book. Fragments of poems and unsent letters and one horribly incriminating sketch of a man who is most certainly not your husband.

“Thank you, My Lord,” you mumble, resisting the urge to run to him and snatch the book right out of his grip. You can feel him watching your every move as you approach to accept it with unsteady hands.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

A storm is coming. You can feel it.

Never mind that the sun is shining – or that the sky outside is a perfect, crystalline blue. The clouds dotted across the horizon hang in the air, unmoving. There is no wind to rustle the leaves in the trees. The calm is ominous. Foreboding.

“... think none of the people in this kingdom have ever seen this kind of display before. I imagine they’ll be quite awed by it. I’ve only ever seen it once myself, in a village far North. A strange lot, those people are. After all these years, they still dabble in the dark arts.”

At the other end of the long dining table before you sits the King. He’s been prattling on like this for the better part of ten minutes now; far too absorbed in his grand talk of the festival to note that his audience of one has yet to engage with a word that’s come out of his mouth.

“It’s strange though, to think of celebrating a Fall Festival in this heat. Though I generally prefer the heat to the cold, these conditions are quite beyond the pale. We’ll have to have just as much water on hand as we do ale.”

You make a sound under your breath that you hope will pass for discourse.

“Of course, there’s still much to be done. But the stewards assure me that everything will be ready in time. And there will be much to celebrate this year as I’m told the crops in all our holdings are faring well. The wheat has – ”

The King’s jabbering comes to an abrupt stop.

“You’ve barely eaten,” he notes, in a sudden fit of awareness. He regards you over the rim of his wine glass, curious. “Is the jajangmyeon not to your liking?”

“It is to my liking,” you insist, pushing the wheat noodles around your bowl in a half-hearted attempt to appease him. “As always. I suppose I’m just not very hungry tonight, is all.”

“I find that surprising,” the King says, as though you’d asked his opinion on the matter. “I understand you were brave enough to venture out into that awful heat this afternoon. I would have thought you’d be famished tonight.”

Every muscle in your body tenses at once.

“Oh?”

“I spoke with Hyeri this afternoon,” the King elaborates, oblivious to his misstep. “She said she’d warned you against leaving the castle under those conditions, but you’d off and done it anyway.” He chuckles under his breath as he recounts the conversation. “I think you surprise her at times with how strong-willed you can be.”

Beneath the table, your hands ball into fists.

The thought of Hyeri disclosing the details of your day to the King, no matter how trivial, incenses you. You imagine them together over tea, sharing a laugh as they trade observations about your shortcomings. Or worse – meeting with one another somber-faced as they commiserate over your inability to produce a child. 

That thought is the most insidious. Your nails dig savagely into your palms.

“Do you and Hyeri discuss my comings and goings often, then, Your Grace?” 

Your husband shrugs, helping himself to another generous serving of noodles.

“Often enough, I suppose.”

“So am I then to assume that when you ask me about my day, you are merely standing on ceremony? Surely you must be, given that you’ve already had a full report from my handmaid.”

The King sets down his chopsticks to look at you, perplexed by the contentious turn in this conversation. But he’s careful to school his features as he considers what to say next.

“Of course not,” he starts slowly. “I ask after you because I genuinely want to know about your day. It’s a consideration that I would think customary between husbands and wives.”

Is he – is he toying with you?

What on earth would His Grace know about what’s customary between husbands and wives? He is the one who’s made this marriage into a farce with his deceit and adultery. He is the one who’s held you at arm’s length from the very start in order to protect the woman he truly loves. Your husband’s hubris is as astonishing as it is aggravating. Horrid, infuriating man.

“Well I, for one, would genuinely like to know about your day, Your Grace,” you say, unable to keep venom from seeping into your every word. “So tell me then – as is customary between husband and wives – how did you pass the afternoon?”

The color drains from the King’s face. 

You should shut your mouth now and say no more, you know it – but by now you are far too consumed with anger to give much thought to the consequences of sharp words. You push the bowl of jajangmyeon away and get to your feet.

“Nothing of interest to share, then?” You raise a brow as you stare down at your husband, unwilling to look away for even one moment. “What a pity. Perhaps tomorrow.”

The King’s eyes narrow but his mouth stays shut. He says nothing in his own defense, says nothing to attempt to placate you. 

And he says nothing as you turn your back on him and walk out the door.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

The first crack of thunder sounds just as you’re readying for bed. You stand at your window and watch the storm roll in. 

Black clouds build off in the distance, discernible only by the occasional flare of lightning. Each bright flash is followed by an earth-shaking rumble that satisfies you somehow, as though you’ve manifested this squall with your thoughts. The violent wind and rain it carries with it a mirror of the tempest inside you.

“Do you require anything else, Your Grace?”

Hyeri’s voice comes from behind, timid and small. She’s been tiptoeing around your chamber all evening, clearly disquieted by the cold reception you’d given her upon your return. The well-bred, well-behaved woman inside you whispers that you should turn to her, do something to reassure her, but you refuse. 

Fortified by your anger, you keep your back to Hyeri and go on staring at the storm clouds.

“No,” you say firmly. “You can retire for the night.”

“But I – ” Hyeri starts, stops, and then sighs. “Very well. As you wish, Your Grace.”

And you do wish. You wish for Hyeri to leave you – not just tonight, but every night. And you wish not just for Hyeri to leave you – but all of them. You’ve grown quite tired of humiliating yourself in this kingdom; of placing your trust in people who’ve made you into a fool time and time again. 

There is rustling as the older woman hurriedly gathers her things, then a brief pause before she slips out the door. The heavy thud that finally announces her departure brings you some small measure of peace, but it does not last.

Your bath-damp body is warm when you slip beneath the heavy duvet. Too warm. Though the storm raging nearby brings with it the promise of cool rain, it is still too far off to displace the humid air in your chamber. You toss and turn beneath the heavy covers for a while, your thin nightgown soaked through with sweat by the time you finally kick your bedding away.

So you lie there in the dark, close to feverish with heat and unable to settle down. Every time you close your eyes, you’re taunted by images – of Hyeri, of the King, of the child that never comes. What you would give to be able to quiet your mind, to have some respite from the reality of your circumstances.

But there will be no respite, not any time soon. The thunder outside is close enough now to shake the castle’s heavy walls with each new blast that rips through the sky. You feel the tremors right down to your bones, the sensation causing goosebumps to scatter across your skin. 

In spite of the heat, you shiver. 

There’s a prickling that starts at your scalp and goes right down to your toes. It makes you itch with the desire to drag your nails down your arms and legs. It makes you want to squeeze your thighs together, tight and tighter still until your agitation is gone. Perhaps that is the solution. 

You cup your breasts through the damp, thin material of your nightgown. They feel sensitive, tender — and the very moment you brush your fingertips over your nipples they come to life, pebbling against the gauzy fabric. 

You close your eyes and try to imagine that your hands are not your own. That the fingers that close around the aching buds, teasing and testing, are not your fingers. That the dormant pleasure the pressure rouses inside you has instead been roused by someone else. 

In your mind, the hand that steals between your thighs is not your own. It’s larger than yours, the fingers longer and rougher than yours. You imagine that hand parting your legs, coarse fingertips slippery against the wetness gathered at your entrance. And you imagine it caressing you there, expertly stroking the spot that makes the air leave your lungs. 

What would it be like to be touched like this? To have a lover’s lips at your neck and his hand between your thighs? To have the weight of him pressing down on you, the scent of him enveloping you – to feel his warm breath fan over your skin?

These thoughts only serve to make the ache between your legs more pronounced. But the more you attend to it, the sharper it becomes. Pleasure blooms with each inexpert pass of your fingers over that place, but in its wake your desperation grows, too. 

You whine under your breath as you touch yourself harder, faster – a heaviness building at your core that makes you feel full, overripe. There is relief on the other side of whatever this is, and you know it. 

But can you reach it? 

Your imaginary lover would know how to help you reach it. He would take you in his arms and in his mouth and leave no inch of your body untouched. He would fuse himself to you, skin-to-skin, and show you how to beckon your pleasure at will, help you realize its full potential. 

In your mind’s eye you can see him – legs and arms strong and lean, golden skin illuminated by firelight. The mouth he sets to your aching nipples would be soft, lips pretty and bow-shaped. And his hair would be dark and his eyes would be a rich chocolate and his face would be – 

A clap of thunder explodes in the sky. 

Your eyes fly open – unseeing – as you gasp from the shock of it. It leaves you trembling, body slick with sweat and limbs tingling from the sudden fear. You lie there in the dark, panting as you wait for your heart to stop racing. 

And just like that, the pleasure you’ve been chasing is gone. Quick as a rabbit. 

Outside your window the heavens weep, the rain beating against the ground like a hail of arrows. 

The dry earth enjoying a relief that always seems to elude you.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

“Magnificent, Your Grace.” 

Hyeri passes a hand over the embellishments in your bodice, chest puffed with pride as she examines the dressmaker’s handiwork. Though her brown eyes have long gone dull and gray with age, they shine as she steps back to take you in from head to toe. “Just magnificent.”

It is magnificent – far and away the finest garment you have ever worn. 

Rich, plum-colored velvet embellished with gilt thread, the plunging neckline and bliaut sleeves lined with pressed bezants. You hardly recognize the woman looking back at you in the mirror, the one with her hair swept off her neck in an intricate braided bun, eyes darkened with kohl, ears and neck adorned with sparkling gold. Whoever that woman is, she is far bolder and far more sophisticated than you.

“There’s nothing like his work,” Hyeri muses, running a thumb over pattern pressed into the hem of one sleeve. “Frail as he is, it takes him ages to complete a dress. But he’s worth it. Worth the wait and worth every single won.”

You study the intertwining gold patterns stitched into the bustline. No doubt the King has paid dearly for this dress and all its fine accoutrements. The thought of your husband spending an obscene amount of money on it nearly puts a smile on your face. 

“You look remarkable in this dress,” Hyeri remarks quietly, wrinkled mouth lifting at the corners with a cautious smile. “Well, of course, you look remarkable everyday, but especially tonight.” 

Her expression is bittersweet as she reaches for you, gently tucking a strand of hair that’s fallen loose of your braid behind your ear. This newfound emotional distance has been hard on her, you know. It’s been hard on you, too. And though holding her at arm’s length has proven difficult at times, it feels somehow vital to your self-preservation.

“Don’t forget your shawl,” Hyeri says softly. “It’s gotten quite cold out there.”

It certainly has. The storm that ripped through the kingdom just days ago took the insufferable heat with it, leaving behind a pure, crystalline cold. The night sky is clear enough to see for miles. 

So you accept the shawl from Hyeri with a quiet thanks, avoiding her eyes as you slip out the chamber door.

By the time you make your way to the great hall, the revelry is already well underway. You can hear it pulsing through the slats of the heavy wooden doors, the music and commotion contained within powerful enough to stir the ground beneath your feet. The footmen posted at either side of the entrance bow deeply as you approach, then move to pull the doors open.

You raise a hand to still them, wanting a moment to steel yourself before entering the fray.

“I’m not – If you’ll just give me – ”

One of the guards steps forward to speak when your words falter.

“No need to explain, Your Grace,” he says earnestly. “Just let us know when you’re ready.”

“Thank you.” You take as deep a breath as your elaborate gown will allow. “Truly.”

You already know what awaits on the other side of those doors. Artificial smiles that hide whispers about your empty womb, honeyed and hollow words of praise from your exasperating husband. Pity too, perhaps, from those connected enough to be privy to the true state of your marriage. 

But you’ll bear it. You must. Because it’s what’s expected of you and because your political survival in this kingdom depends on it.

“Well then,” you say, smoothing down your velvet skirt with trembling hands. "I believe I've had time to collect myself."

The very same footman that had spoken to you just moments earlier gives you a sympathetic smile as he places one hand on the door’s ornate wrought iron handle. He pauses to look at you before signaling to the other footman, one brow raised as if to say are you sure?

You swallow thickly and nod your affirmation.

Slowly, the heavy doors are pulled open, creaking as they part. You step forward to enter, feeling a rush of cool air at your heels. The brief hush that falls over the great hall makes your heartbeat quicken.

But then the King stands. 

He rises to his feet and bows to you, and every person inside the great hall follows suit. You return his bow and then straighten, holding your head up high as you set off to fulfill your duty.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

The King makes no mention of the tense meal you’d shared just a few nights prior. Not that you’d expected him to. If anything, your husband’s predilection for avoidance has been one of his most consistent traits. And if he’s harbored any ill feelings about the curt words you’d spoken that night, surely they’ve been washed away in a torrent of ale.

He’s already a bit drunk when you take your seat beside him – pleasantly so, if his ruddy cheeks and leisurely smile are any indication. His dark eyes are glassy as they sweep over your form, taking in the grandeur of your dress. But they linger at your bust for just a heartbeat too long and it takes all the self-control you can muster to not kick him beneath the table.

“You look fetching in that dress,” the King notes, reaching for his tankard. “The color suits you.”

“Oh? Then you’ll be pleased to know I’ve dozens more just like it on the way.”

You startle a laugh from the King just as he’s taken a drink and he splutters on it, coughing until tears gather at the corners of his eyes. “Very good of you to warn me before the bill comes due,” he wheezes.

“But of course, Your Grace.” You infuse your words with cloying, contrived sweetness, putting a hand over your heart for emphasis. “It is the very least I could do.”

The King chuckles as you turn to look out over the room. 

The tables below the raised platform on which you both dine are teeming with people, their long wooden benches bowing beneath the substantial weight. They are littered with food and drink, tankards and platters and goblets scattered for as far as the eye can see. 

You sip your wine and watch partygoers reach over one another for noodles and steal dumplings from their neighbors’ plates.

It takes a minute for you to spot Boram. She and Lord Min are tucked into a corner, cozy and close. Your dear friend is the very picture of contentment; resplendent in a royal blue gown, glowing in the torchlight when her husband presses a kiss to her temple. Your heart aches as you watch them. What you would give to have what they have – to know the fulfillment they’ve found in one another.

In fact, the Mins make for such a compelling tableau that you nearly overlook the one behind it. Lord Jung is dressed in an arresting black and gold tunic, dark hair styled away from his face and a tankard of ale in his hand. And he is not alone.

Seated close to him – so very close – is a woman. A beautiful woman, as best you can tell from a distance. Her dark red dress in perfect contrast to her shiny fall of dark hair, the garment cut to accentuate what can only be described as a generous bust. She leans in to Lord Jung as she says something, décolletage on full display when she throws her head back to laugh.

Your grip on the wine goblet in your hand tightens.

The woman is brazen, that much you can tell. Her proximity to the Guardsman is far too close to be proper, her scandalous –  if stunning – manner of dress far too self-indulgent to be benign. And though you cannot make out clearly how she’s been received by Lord Jung, the very fact that he has not sent her away is telling. Is this the woman he intends to marry, then? Or just a diversion for the night? 

You drain the wine that remains in your goblet and signal for the serving girl to bring you more.

Moments later Lord Jung, too, flags down a passing servant to fill his tankard. For a man who once took great pride in extolling his discipline with spirits, he seems to be exercising very little of it tonight. In fact, he looks to be indulging as much or perhaps even more than his fellow Guardsmen. Perhaps that is why he does not he does not move to distance himself when the alluring woman at his side places a hand on his arm.

You swallow another large sip of wine.

“It’s nearly time for the evening’s entertainment,” the King says. “I think you’ll be impressed by what’s in store.”

You cannot tear your gaze from the scene before you. You cannot stop staring at the comely woman at Lord Jung’s side – stiffening in your seat when she leans over to whisper in his ear.

“I’m looking forward to it,” you say absentmindedly, lifting your wine glass to your lips once again.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

When you were a girl, barely ten years old, your father had come home from a long journey with a fantastic tale. 

He’d spoken of fire – in shades of red and green and gold – launched into the sky, embers raining down on the earth in a magnificent display. You’d been spellbound by the picture he’d painted for you, wishing desperately to see this phenomenon for yourself.

And now you have.

The King’s promise of a surprise well exceeds your expectations. Each new flare sent up over the open field is met with a hush from the crowd, followed by loud cheers and applause as it explodes into color.

“I brought them back from a village up North,” the King explains, preening at the crowd’s reception. “And though I wanted to show them right away, I made myself wait until the most advantageous time. What do you make of them?”

“They’re splendid,” you answer earnestly. “I’ve never seen anything so grand.”

The King hides a satisfied smile behind the rim of his tankard. By this point in the evening, he’s crossed the line from agreeably drunk to good and well soused – as have many of the others in attendance. You, too, are feeling the effects of your wine, experiencing that strange weightlessness that can only be brought on by drink.

And you are glad for the distraction of the fire display. 

It’s helped pull your focus away from Lord Jung and that woman. Though each time there is a brief break in the presentation, you cannot help but search the throng for any sign of them. You wonder where they are right now. What they might be doing. But then you drown the bitter thoughts with the wine in your goblet.    

The night wears on and the crowd around you becomes rowdier, louder – the ale barrels slowly disappearing one by one. Even the King is looking a bit worse for the wear. He’s sagged into the chair beside you, heavy-lidded as he watches the bright detonations that light up the sky.

You are not faring much better. A dull throb taps at your temples, no doubt the consequence of drinking too much wine, and you suspect that it will be far more pronounced come morning. You ought to retire for the evening now, while you still have some of your wits about you.

You open your mouth to say as much to the King at the very same time you catch sight of a slim man ambling away from the crowd. Though he’s hundreds of yards away and though there’s little light beyond the torches and the occasional embers in the sky, you recognize him right away. 

You would recognize him anywhere.

Impulsively, you get to your feet and utter a rushed goodbye to the King. He bids you farewell with a sluggish smile and not a moment later he’s gone back to gazing skyward, mesmerized by the lights. Just ahead, Lord Jung slinks off into the shadows, moving with an unsteady gait. 

And you follow him. To what end you cannot be sure.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Clearly, you’d given no real thought to this course of action. 

If you had, you’d not be scurrying across damp grass right now, struggling to keep your balance in your beautiful velvet dress. The heavy fabric weighs you down with each step, making each footfall precarious. In fact, if you’d stopped for even a moment to consider the implications of stealing away to pursue a man who is not your husband, you’d have ended this lunacy long before it even began.

But here you are in the dark, chasing after Lord Jung. With only the moon to light your way.

The slender man moves quickly, unburdened by the trappings of women’s formalwear and assisted by his long legs. You lift the hem of your dress off the ground and do your best to keep up on the shadowy path. Just a short distance ahead you can make out the lines of a thatched roof and wooden fence. 

It’s the stables, you realize, and the pieces start to fall into place.

He’s come here to meet that woman. The two of them must have agreed to leave the festival and come here for a secret tryst. Were you a woman in your right mind, that realization would stop you cold and send you running straight back to the castle. But you are absolutely not in your right mind. You are dangerous tonight; fearless from the wine flowing freely in your veins.

As such, the very thought of Lord Jung arranging for a passionate liaison with this woman has the opposite effect. It infuriates you. And you’ll not be satisfied until you can see the proof for yourself and then end this fixation once and for all.

Overhead, a flare of light illuminates the darkness just as you’re nearing the horse stalls. It’s followed by the sound of sizzling gunpowder, and it draws your attention skyward. You look up just in time to see wisps of fire tumble back to the earth. But when you fix your gaze forward again, Lord Jung is gone.

What on earth?

You’ve barely begun to consider your next move before your body is moving of its own volition, jerked right off the walking path by a hand that wraps around your arm like a band of steel. Lord Jung drags you behind the horse stall with one hand and claps the other over your mouth to smother the sound of hysteria that threatens to escape.

“What. Are. You. Doing?”

He hisses the words, one by one, his low vibrato thrumming with barely-contained anger. You’ve yet to recover from the shock of being accosted in the dark and so you stare at him, bewildered and mute.

He releases you, dropping the hand covering your mouth to walk to the edge of the stables. You watch as he ducks his head around the corner to check the walking path. Once he’s satisfied you’ve not been followed, he rounds on you.

“Anyone could have seen you.”

“No one saw me,” you scowl, finding your voice. You rub your forearm where his fingers dug painfully into your flesh. “They’re all far too drunk to see anything, I assure you.”

The Guardsman shoves a hand through his dark hair and exhales deeply.

“What are you about tonight, Your Grace?” 

A fair question, and one you ought to have considered before dashing off into the night. But you’d been so hellbent on hunting the man down that you’d given no real thought to what you’d do if you actually caught him. You hesitate for so long that he grows impatient, closing in on you.

“What,” he repeats slowly, “Are you about?”

“I don’t know,” you admit.

“Well, you ought to know,” he growls. “You ought to know damned well exactly what you’re about before you go off following men into the dark.”

But it’s not as though you’ve followed just any man into the dark, is it? You’d followed him. The admonishment riles you, bringing your temper back to a full boil. You straighten your spine and sear him with a withering look.

“That woman tonight. At the feast. She wants you to bed her.”

Lord Jung’s dark eyes go wide just before they narrow. He stalks towards you slowly, forcing you to retreat until your back is flush to the stable’s rough wooden slats. Slivers of moonlight play off his angular face, making the shadows in the hollows of his cheeks more pronounced.

He’s beautiful – even like this – even when he’s so irate that he can barely stand still.

“I know what she wants,” he murmurs, voice sinking to an octave that raises goosebumps on your arms. “What I do not know is what you want. What I do not know is why you are here.”

“So you intend to bed her,” you challenge.

Something dangerous flickers in the man's expression as he regards you, gaze potent enough to almost make you regret your sudden bout of daring. Almost.

“No.”

And so there is no tryst. No agreement between secret lovers. Adrenaline floods your veins, bringing with it a clarity that you’ve not had since you began drinking tonight. You’ve been reckless – so, so reckless – and now there is no undoing what you’ve done. 

“I’ve answered your question and now you will answer mine,” Lord Jung warns, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “What. Do. You. Want?”

All the fire has left you now. Whatever force possessed you to confront this man in this way has disappeared, leaving behind only a sickly taste in your mouth. You’ll feel more than just the wine in the morning, you know it. 

“Brave enough to follow me into the dark, brave enough to demand I explain my plans for bedsport,” he continues, brows knit as he stares you down. “But somehow, not brave enough to tell me what you’re doing here in the first place.”

“I – ” 

“Tell me then,” he goads, growing more agitated by the minute. “Open your mouth and speak. Tell me why you’re here. Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to kiss me.”

You ought to have slapped him across the face. At the very least, you would have earned the look he’s giving you right now – this frozen mask of incredulity that’s come over him. He backs away from you slowly, as though poised to run. But he doesn’t.

“You’re mad.”

“I am not mad,” you say evenly, with a poise you’d not thought yourself capable of. “You asked me what I want and I’ve told you. I want you to kiss me.”

Another burst of color explodes in the sky. A loud cheer goes up over the field nearby, a disquieting reminder of the hundreds of people milling about just a short walk away. The commotion seems to sober him.

“Go home, Your Grace.” His words are strangled, forced. “You are playing with fire. You have no idea what you’re doing here.”

You stiffen, lifting your nose in the air. 

“I know exactly what I’m doing,” you lie.

Your insistence only serves to make him even more agitated. He begins to pace back and forth, glowering at you as he moves.

“Go back to your castle, Your Grace. Go back to your fine life and your fine things and no one will ever be the wiser.”

“I will not,” you refuse, petulant.

Lord Jung delivers his last blow, the fatal one, in a voice so graveled it sounds as though the words are spoken by a stranger. And perhaps he is a stranger, this man you’ve been so infatuated with. Perhaps he’s nothing like what you’ve made him in your own mind.

“Go back to your husband,” he growls. “Your King.”

Your humiliation is instant and acute. You burn with it, the embarrassment so all-consuming that it nearly makes you see stars. You can hear the blood rushing in your ears, feel your heart pounding in your throat when you finally manage to speak.

“The King doesn’t want me,” you say stiffly. “Though I am certain you already know that.”

“The King is a fool!” he explodes, surging forward and slamming his hands down on either side of you. The outburst is violent enough to shake the horse stall and the venom in his countenance nearly makes you come out of your skin. His mouth hovers terrifyingly close to yours, so close that you can nearly taste the ale on his breath. You stop breathing altogether. 

Then he wrenches himself away from you, staggering backwards as though he’s been burned.

“And so am I.”

i’d love to hear from you about this chapter! you can talk to me here. otherwise, i hope you enjoyed it and only the final chapter is left 💕

[luvismenu]

Boyfriend Hoseok — texts

m.list — ♡⁠˖

permanent taglist: @wnteraezz @letmekookk @whoa-jo @blaricee @wobblewobble822 @jkslvsnella

note: just some cute stuff (that i kept in my drafts for a while now) !

[lo1k-diamonds]

Soul Palette Series 💜

In this soulmate alternative universe, there are no marks, no strings, and no traces to guide them to their other half. But if they listen carefully, destiny is just around the corner patiently waiting to mix them in the soul palette and create universes - together.

PAIRING: idol!BTS member x (f)OC

GENRE: Soulmate AU (s2l)

RATING: R (for the most part)

Crossposted on AO3 | Should be read in order 💜

✔Carnation

PAIRING: idol!Jin x OC

SUMMARY: In early 2018, BTS were at a crossroads: after working so hard to set foot in the music industry of South Korea, their sudden jump into stardom became something they never anticipated. Jin believed in his dongsaengs but was just as lost as them when his soulmate entered the picture.

WORD COUNT: 25.3k (total)

WARNINGS: mild angst for talks of disbanding, burnout, financial struggles, sickness, society pressures, low self-esteem

The corners of his lips rose the second he predicted she would crash into him, which he absolutely wanted for some reason, but she subverted his expectations. His features went from cheeky to slumped when she dodged him expertly and just walked right past him without even looking up. He turned to widen his eyes at her in a complaint, but she was walking steadily and quickly away without looking back. Well, he scoffed, how could she just focus so hard on her call or whatever that she didn’t see him standing right in her way? One should pay attention to their surroundings instead of— He gasped, Wait!

AO3 | [1st Chapter - Tumblr]

✔Seeking the Sunrise

PAIRING: idol!Hoseok x OC

SUMMARY: Haesun was adrift, her life was happening but she had no idea where she was going. Finding her soulmate was on the wishlist, but it was by no means a priority. Cue in the cutest guy who happens to be a household name in the music industry with his whole life figured out. He's her soulmate, isn't that great? If only he wanted to find love like she did...

WORD COUNT: 32.1k (total)

WARNINGS: angst, tragedy, comfort, minor character death, sickness, grief, tension, smut (in the last chapter: dry humping, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex)

If he was unavailable, why did he yearn for her? Hoped to see her? Was done early just so he could go to her earlier and wait for her with a smile on his face? Went out with his friends at the same time she was at a soulmating party so that he wouldn’t think about it? Wanted to touch her all the time? Stared at her photo and tried to remember her laugh, sighing at the memory of it? Looked at her jaw and wished to brush it softly with his thumbs? Looked at her gorgeous lips like that? Why did he wonder… about what her lips would say next? Or how they felt? Or how they tasted?

AO3 | [1st Chapter - Tumblr]

🚧Monochrome

PAIRING: idol!Namjoon x OC

SUMMARY: ...

WORD COUNT: ? Outline 🚧 15 chapters

WARNINGS: ...

...

AO3 | [Tumblr]

✔Call You Mine

PAIRING: idol!Yoongi x OC

SUMMARY: Freya despises everything soulmate-related, but one day her soulmate shows out of nowhere and turns everything upside down. A slowburn rejection soulmate story to make you fall in love with Min Yoongi (again).

WORD COUNT: 297k (total)

WARNINGS: angst, huge ass story that is an emotional rollercoaster, rejection (happy ending), OC has a strong personality and flaws (all my characters do really), desperation, explicit sexual content, soulmate bond is inescapable and shit happens

She turned around like a tornado, “Why the fuck would I change my life for you?!” He nodded, looking at the floor while choosing his words carefully. “Well… it might be a little selfish of me, but—” “A little?!” “— there isn’t another way, not that I can see,” he finished stubbornly. That stunned her for a moment. She stared at him in utter disbelief. The audacity—! “We don’t have to be together. We don’t know each other!” She closed her fists, voice shaking in anger. “Why should I have to move across the world for you? Why! Cause you’re famous?”

AO3 | [1st chapter - Tumblr]

🚀To Blossom

PAIRING: idol!Jungkook x OC

SUMMARY: ...

WORD COUNT: ? Writing 🚀 Chapter 17/62 (~90k) ➡ snippets

WARNINGS: ...

...

AO3 | [Tumblr]

🚧The Shade of the Cosmos

PAIRING: idol!Taehyung x OC

SUMMARY: ...

WORD COUNT: ? Outline 🚧 9 chapters

WARNINGS: ...

...

AO3 | [Tumblr]

🚧Choice and Destiny

PAIRING: idol!Jimin x OC

SUMMARY: ...

WORD COUNT: ? Outline 🚧 10 chapters

WARNINGS: ...

...

AO3 | [Tumblr]

The Tapestry of Fate

PAIRING: each couple from the previous stories

SUMMARY: ...

WORD COUNT: ? Oneshot

WARNINGS: ...

...

AO3 | [Tumblr]

[raplinesmoon]

Après Moi, Le Deluge (JHS x F!Reader)

pairing: Hoseok x afab!reader genres/au/rating: angst, smut, some fluff, mafia au, sort of arranged marriage au, exes au, 18+ summary: It was one night. One night where Hoseok sought refuge from the storm outside, from the life he led, from the past that haunted him. And where else does fate lead him but back into your arms?

word count: 8.2k

warnings: the mafia, mentions minor character death, cursing, smoking, alcohol use, use of weapons, strained relationships with parents, mental health issues, mentions threats against people Hoseok cares about, brief, non-graphic depiction of blood and injuries, breakups, makeups, a cameo by one Xu Minghao, Hoseok and OC are both very closed off and bad at communicating, Hoseok is lowkey an asshole for most of this, happy-ish ending, smut warnings: making out, fingering (fem receiving), nipple play, unprotected sex, marking, teeny bit of cockwarming

a/n: Hello it is me, profusely apologising because there is no reason this should have taken this long to write, other than I had the worst case of writer's block ever, but I missed Hoseok and I needed to see this through. This fic is set in the same universe as Doom Boy, my Namjoon mafia fic! You don't necessarily have to read Doom Boy to read this, but it may help some of the moments mentioned here make sense! The title is a reference to a famous saying by King Louis XV of France, or if you're me, season 1 episode 11 of The Originals. I hope you all enjoy &lt;3

listen to the playlist here!

The rain slams down on the pavement, rendering the soles of Hoseok’s shoes even more sodden than they’d previously been. A cold, sticky feeling settles across his spine, and he heaves for breath, wishing he could just stop and take a break. But he can’t. He has to keep moving. Resisting the urge to shiver and warm himself up, he rounds the corner.

The day had started off normal enough. Hoseok had been assigned patrol duty for the day by Namjoon, a task he was more than familiar with. After the collapse of the Kim empire and his father’s death, Namjoon had returned to clean up the family business. And he was doing a damn good job at it, training the younger ones like Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook in how to run a business.

But there was more to this than a business, and Namjoon knew that well enough. Someone had to be around to air out the dirty laundry, to clean up the streets. And who better for the job than Hoseok? 

He was used to it anyway, more comfortable around knives and guns than he’d ever been around people who weren’t Namjoon, Yoongi, or Seokjin. It was partly the reason he’d been sent out tonight, to monitor the slimy activities that took place under the cover of night. 

Yet sometimes, the downpour got the best of Hoseok. He hadn’t been expecting the Choi cronies to spot him, much less for them to be armed. Luckily they were as thick-skulled as Hoseok expected them to be, and he’d been able to craft a quick escape. For the time being.

But it wouldn’t last for long. Hoseok knew the men would be on his tail all night, and as much as he wanted to call for backup, he didn’t feel like bothering Namjoon, Yoongi, or their families, at this time of night. He wouldn’t have had a problem bothering Seokjin, but that fucker had run the moment he’d shot up Namjoon’s father. 

Looking around, he falters. The buildings around him loom ominously, stretching much taller than he’s used to, the lights from the highest floors creating artificial stars against the cloudy backdrop of the sky. Hoseok gathers that he must be in the swanky part of town. He scoffs, knowing from personal experience the rich were no better than the mobs and gangs they pretended to look down upon, licking at their bootstraps whenever the necessity arose.

Still, he decides it’s better to take cover. He spots the sleeping security guard from outside one of the buildings, and slips in, shaking the raindrops from his hair. Making his way to the elevators at the end of the lobby, his mind ran with plans of how he’d clean up the mess with the Choi men in a way that Namjoon would approve of. 

Which is why he misses the other person entering the elevator at the same time as him, instead collapsing against the railing and letting out a loud sigh, rubbing at his eyes.

“H-Hoseok?” the voice that calls out to him is quiet, barely above a whisper. But its familiarity sends a chill down Hoseok’s spine. It’s a voice he thought he’d never hear again.

His eyes open slowly, and he sees his shocked reflection mirrored in the ones directly across from him, eyes that he’d never been able to forget. The way they look at him now is the same way they’d been the last time he saw you, on a similarly cloudy day.

The eyes of his former fiancée.

The doors of the elevator screech shut, the sound doing nothing to drown out the pounding of your heart. The soft tiny plops of raindrops echo on the grey floor, falling from Hoseok’s hair as he freezes at the sound of your voice.

You suck in a breath, lungs desperately searching for air, unable to squeak out anything beyond his name. Brows furrowing, you check him for any signs of injury, relieved when you find nothing but his blank eyes blinking back at you. You didn’t have to ask him where he’d been tonight. Both of you already knew.

It infuriates you that even after everything, after all this time, he still manages to have this effect on you. You hate how you can’t take your eyes off the lean curve of his neck, or the tiny mole above his heart-shaped smile.

A chill runs down your spine, despite having never stepped foot out in the rain. 

“Why are you…” your throat feels heavy, struggling to get the words out, to ask him why he ended up here of all places. Especially when you made it clear you never wanted to see him again after the last time.

“Choi’s men were tailing me, I had to get them off my back,” he barks, immediately regretting his harsh tone when he looks into your weary eyes, on the verge of tears.

“I’m sorry,” he adds on, more gently this time. “If I’d have known, I would never…”

Never what? Never managed to infiltrate the one place you thought you could be free of him, from the past the two of you shared?

Your shoulders slump against the panel, and you realize you’d never pressed the button to go up, too consumed by his presence. Finally managing to muster up the focus, you turn away, hearing the elevator creak to life.

“You’re always sorry. How can I be sure that this time, you mean it?”

Hoseok is annoyed. First of all, this damn elevator is taking nearly too long to go anywhere, and he longs for escape from this metallic box that’s imprisoning you both. Second of all, your words cut at him, sharper than any knife and hotter than any bullet any of Choi’s men could have sent his way tonight.

As far as he remembers, you’d been the one to end it. You’d been the one to walk away from your arrangement.

He doesn’t know why he grits his teeth, biting down to combat the throbbing pain in his temples. You were supposed to be gone, your goodbye delivered in the same way the designer bags and packages piled up at your doorstep - neat, polished, shallow, the ties that had brought you together unraveling before they’d even had a chance to be joined properly. 

Unfinished business. That’s what you were. And Hoseok hated unfinished business. But somehow, he’d never managed to hate you. You’d never given him a fair chance.

. . .

Hoseok shrugged the wife beater over his head with a grunt, immediately turning around to see if he’d woken up his sleeping companion, but she remained unfazed, her soft snores echoing into the pillow. 

He lets his eyes linger over her body appreciatively one last time before he slips on his leather jacket and is out the door. For a brief moment, his hand twitches, yearning to reach into his pocket and call Namjoon for old times’ sake, detailing every last detail of his lascivious romp. The thought is abandoned immediately, Hoseok’s mood souring at the thought of his former best friend. Namjoon had no trouble leaving all of them behind, so why should he even bother? Instead, he reaches into his other pocket, his frenzied emotions finally calming down when he pulls out the lighter. Ducking under an awning, he checks his surroundings for anything suspicious before affirming that the coast is clear, lighting up and taking a drag. The smoke drifts away on the nighttime breeze, and Hoseok follows, roaming the city streets. 

It’s lonely at this hour, not another soul in sight, but Hoseok prefers it that way. Gone are the days when he and his friends would run through the city, stealing cars and honking horns at everyone for fun. Now, shit had hit the fan big time, and there was no room for fun anymore. With Namjoon gone, Hoseok, along with Seokjin and Yoongi, had been sucked into the tangled web of duties he’d left behind, each stepping up in their own way.

Holding a gun in his hands for the first time had been a sobering experience for Hoseok. It rattled him that if he pressed down on the trigger, so many things could change in a split second. He’d heard the higher-ups in the organization rave with glee about how much fun it was putting the city’s other families in line, Namjoon’s father at the head of them. And for a brief moment, Hoseok understood what it was that Namjoon had run away from. That didn’t mean he wasn’t still pissed off about it though. 

His lips turn up in a smile when he takes in the graffiti on the building in front of him, thinking back to his younger, more rebellious self, before faltering. Someone else was there. 

He wonders if you’re cold, the thin satin gown doing nothing to protect you from the chill, and he wants to laugh at the contrast between his well-worn leather jacket and the jewels dripping from your ears. They must cost a few thousands of dollars, money he’d never had in his pocket. His eyes scan around for someone, anyone – a boyfriend, or a husband maybe. But you’re alone.

Nobility has never been Hoseok’s forte - Namjoon and Seokjin had always been the womanizers, and poor Yoongi had been in love with the same woman for over ten years, but he clears his throat, prompting you to turn around, eyes widening at your company.

If he catches a glimpse of unshed tears in your eyes, he doesn’t say anything. 

“Kids these days, huh? They’ll do anything to cause a little chaos,” he quips, a sinking feeling building up in his chest when you don’t respond.

“Ma’am,” he grapples with whether he should ask for your name, “do you need me to walk you home?”

“Did you read it?” your voice is quieter than he expects, yet he draws closer, wanting to hear more of it. Coming to stand beside you, he takes in the captivating features of your face, made all the more alluring by the shadows cast across them.

Following your gaze, he looks at the mural on the wall. A giant wave, Hosukai-style, crashing into a set of words. “After me, the flood,” your voice whispers, and Hoseok feels a rush of emotion at the way you say it, his mind circling back to everything that had happened in the past few years - the dark cloud that had settled over all their lives with Namjoon leaving, the city’s underbelly coming to life, crawling out of the woodwork. 

“I have to go,” you interrupt him, heels clacking against the pavement, before Hoseok’s gaze turns sharply on you, the desperation in his eyes begging you not to go. Come sunrise, he’d be forced back into the same grim routine, but right now, it felt nice, standing here with you.

“Will you be okay getting home alone?” he asks, grappling for any chance to prolong the moment.

“My driver is around the corner,” you tell him. “Thank you for keeping me company, –”

“Hoseok,” he fills you in, his chest aching with the desire to ask for your own name, but you’re already gone.

. . .

Hoseok wakes up the next morning to the rattling of the blinds, the sunlight causing him to immediately shut his eyes and bite back a groan. There was only one person who’d have access to his apartment at this hour – and exploit it.

“Eomma?” he rasps, burrowing his head further into the sheets. “What are you doing here?”

“Did you forget Hoseok-ah? Hurry up and get dressed, everyone’s waiting! You have five minutes.”

Forget what? His mother’s fussing continues in the background as she leafs through his closet, no doubt trying to find him a suitable outfit amongst the many pairs of ripped denim and oversized shirts he prefers on a day-to-day basis. Hoseok wracks his brain, trying to remember what could have called for such an occasion, but comes up empty, his mother’s stern warning echoing in his ears. 

As per usual, if it had anything to do with the organization, he’d do best not to ignore it.

Slipping on the stark white shirt and tie she’d chosen, the fabric itches against his skin, and he rakes his fingers through his hair, attempting to comb the mess into something somewhat presentable. He’s sure there was little to be done about the bags under his eyes, and the faint smell of tobacco emanating from him, and hoped that whoever these important guests were, they wouldn’t catch onto his late-night activities from the previous day. 

Stumbling into the hallway, Hoseok hears the faint chatter of voices, his father’s bellowing laugh a stark contrast to his mother’s delicate titter, and is immediately confused. Conversations with the bosses of the organization weren’t usually so… enthusiastic. 

When he rounds the corner to his living room, he stops in his tracks. Sitting next to his mother and father is another older couple he doesn’t recognize. They reek of wealth that his family could never even imagine, he notes, the polished Italian leather of the man’s shoes and the older woman’s massive diamond ring speaking for themselves. But he could honestly care less. Because to their left side, sitting on his favorite armchair, is you. The woman from in front of the mural. You’re clad in a simple sundress today, but you still manage to be nothing short of breathtaking against the backdrop of the sun’s rays. 

“There you are, Hoseok!” his father beckons him over jovially, but Hoseok remains frozen. “This is Mr. and Mrs. ____, and their daughter ____.”

Hoseok’s turns his gaze to his father, watching him recoil at the sharpness present in his son’s expression, a thousand unspoken questions lingering on his lips as to why these people were here, what purpose they had in his home, his space.

“We’d like for the two of you to get to know each other,” your mother speaks up with a smile so wide, he’d assume it’d been plastered onto her face. 

“Why?” he finally manages to whistle out in between grit teeth, looking only at you. But you don’t meet his eyes. Instead, your gaze is looking out his window, at the city beyond, the same loneliness from last night ever present in your eyes. 

“Because,” his father continues uncertainly, fidgeting the glass of wine in his hands, “___ is going to be your wife.”

You can feel Hoseok’s eyes glaring into the back of your head as he follows you wordlessly down the hallway. Moments pass before you come to a stop outside your apartment, and you hear the faint stumble of Hoseok’s boots as he stops unexpectedly in his tracks. His warm breath fans against the back of your neck for a brief moment before he straightens with a grunt, and you resist the urge to shiver, despite having never stepped foot into the rain.

The lock clicks, and he follows you inside. You can hear him rustle behind you as he struggles to remove his coat and boots, but you look straight ahead, hoping the darkness can hide how your fingernails are digging into your palm. 

“I won’t stay long,” his low voice breaks the silence. “Just until the storm passes.”

“Please,” you manage to muster up your most polite sounding voice. “Have a seat. I can get you something, maybe some water, o-or a cup of tea…” 

You want to curse your voice for wobbling in his presence, hating the way he still affected you even after all this time apart. Your brain bades you to walk away instinctively, and so you pad into the kitchen, wanting to put distance in between you and Hoseok so he can’t hear the rapid fluttering of your heart. The noise pounds in your ears as you rattle around in the cupboards, cursing when you realized you’d forgotten to turn on the light. It seemed embarrassing to do it now, and so you reach aimlessly, looking for some coffee. 

The pot bubbles, and in mere moments, you’re clutching two steaming mugs, finding your way back onto the living room. Hoseok has settled himself onto your couch, taking extra care not to rest his soaked shirt against the back of it, instead hunched over and dangling an unlit cigarette from his fingertips.

“Sorry, I didn’t know if you’d be okay with me…” he gestures to it, twirling it around in his fingers. “I know you don’t like the smell.”

You’re unsure whether to be touched that he remembers, or uneasy at the way he says it so monotonously, as if you’d still judge him for something so mundane when so much else had happened in between you.

“Here,” you set down the coffee in front of him, taking the seat directly opposite. “It’ll help take the edge off.”

The warm liquid burns your throat as you rush to take a sip, and you nearly sputter trying to keep it down. Over the rim of your cup, Hoseok remains frozen, his own mug steaming and untouched. His dark eyes bore into you, studying your face, and you feel your cheeks begin to burn.

If he notices the bags under your eyes, he says nothing. The same way he says nothing when he probably remarks at your simplistic clothes and lack of jewelry, a far cry from the expensive dresses and diamonds he’d been used to seeing you in. 

“Were you about to go out?” Hoseok asks, and the question catches you off guard. “I’m sorry if I stopped you from going somewhere.”

“Or meeting someone.” The last part is a hushed whisper, mumbled underneath his breath, in the hopes that you wouldn’t catch him. But you had. You wish he’d stop apologizing. It makes you feel guilty when you shouldn’t be, like he’s trying and you’re shutting him out, when in reality it’d been the exact opposite. 

All of a sudden, your phone buzzes to life, a text message lighting up the screen. You freeze when you see who it’s from, quickly snatching your phone and cursing in your head. Minghao was a friend of a friend, the two of you running into each other a number of times over the past couple of weeks, before he’d finally plucked up the courage to ask you for a coffee date.

You’d told him you’d think about it, and now here he was, lighting up your phone to ask you about your decision. Of course, how was he supposed to know that the reason you’d been holding off was the very man sitting in your living room, whom you’d almost married, and still couldn’t seem to let go?

Clutching your phone to your chest, you turn it to silent, setting it down beside you. Hoseok’s eyes are alight with curiosity, his lips turned up in a faint smirk, as though he’s remembering his statement from earlier. 

You take another sip, willing the caffeine to give you some strength, to rein in the bare threads of this conversation back to your control.

“How are your parents?”

Hoseok is taken aback by the question. He hadn’t expected it from you. There had once been a time where you’d been bright eyed and eager, wanting to know everything about him, bombarding him with question after question every time you were together. And yet somehow, he’d never managed to give you the time of day, always giving brusque answers and half-hearted excuses that there were other things that needed his attention.

He knew it was just a poor attempt to fill the silence, but his heart lurches at the thought that there’s so much you don’t know anymore. Namjoon coming back, Seokjin running away, the life that Hoseok knew being turned inside out. What’s more unsettling is the fact that he yearns to tell you, despite knowing he’d lost the privilege to do so.

“They’re okay. Doing well,” he lies through his teeth. “We all are. How about yours?”

He thinks it’s an innocent question, but he watches your fingers blanch as you grip the mug so tight, he thinks it’ll break. 

“I wouldn’t know,” you whisper out softly, and his heart stops. “I haven’t spoken to them since– you know.”

Hoseok feels dizzy at your confession. What do you mean you hadn’t spoken to them? Suddenly, it all begins to make sense in his head. The fact that he hadn’t expected to run into you tonight, because he hadn’t expected you to live alone, with your austere clothes and hair tossed up into a messy bun. It was so different from the woman he’d known, the dazzling one he’d written off as hollow in his mind, the one he was incapable of forming a real relationship with. 

And here you were, living the exact opposite of the cozy life he’d painted for you in his head. He thought you’d be fine, that you’d move on, your family offering you up to the next prospect that came along. And you’d accept them, like you’d accepted Hoseok with all his flaws, not caring that he could barely give you what you deserved.

His thoughts flash back to the last conversation you had, tears streaming down your face as you sobbed.

I can’t live like this anymore.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, and he watches annoyance flash across your face. He knows he’s done nothing but apologize this entire time, but it probably isn’t even worth a damn. No consolation would ever make up for losing someone that meant everything to you. He’d known that when Namjoon had run away.

“Hey,” you set the mug down, leaning over the table. For a brief second, he sees your hand reach out blindly in the darkness, almost as if it’s searching for his, but you withdraw just as quickly. “I’m okay. I really am.”

“I wish you’d stop pretending,” Hoseok blurts out, and he watches you jolt in surprise. “Why do you always have to pretend like everything’s okay, like nothing affects you? Is it the society training? Or do you really just not care about what happened at all?”

You chew the inside of your cheek, mulling over Hoseok’s words in your head.

“The same way you can pull the trigger on someone and be able to lie in your bed and fall asleep,” you seethe, a venom that Hoseok has never heard in your voice. 

“I knew who you were Hoseok. I knew what kind of man I was marrying. You think it didn’t affect me? You think I wasn’t scared out of my wits because of what you did, what other people could do to you?” 

You rise up, palms quivering as you open and close them, strolling over to the window. Hoseok watches your shoulders shake before they slump completely, and he knows that you’re crying.

He’s up before he can stop himself, feet ready to walk out the door. He’d fucked up the moment he’d stayed in the elevator with you, all the ugly feelings between you coming to a head, ones he’d struggled so hard to keep buried. 

But his body betrays him, instead leading him right behind. He pauses until he’s just close enough that if he reaches out, he’d be able to grab your arm and turn you around to face him. But he waits instead.

“I did what I did because I realized I was chasing a ghost,” you huff out, resignation in your tone. “I wanted you to be someone you weren’t. I wanted you to care so badly. But you didn’t. I don’t want any part in whatever you’re caught up in, Hoseok. Whatever has a hold on you so badly that you couldn’t even look beyond your cynicism to give me a chance.”

“I just want to survive.”

Hoseok grips the bathroom sink, knuckles turning white. His cell phone clatters on the counter beside him and he has to keep from heaving. This whole thing was a mess – no one had counted on Namjoon coming back. Even less so on him refusing to take up his father’s mantle. And so the threats continued – the words from the anonymous phone call still ringing in his ear, your name echoing across the line.

While he didn’t know what he felt for you, or whether he could even marry you, Hoseok knew you were an innocent person. You didn’t deserve to be the victim of your parents’ greed, them using you to bury their secrets in the hands of even more powerful people. You deserved gardens full of flowers and meals together every night, not coming home to an empty bed. Or a fiancé who couldn’t spare a moment during the entire night to even dance with you. 

He’s so lost in his brooding that he doesn’t hear the door the click behind him, the soft tapping of heels on the floor coming up behind him. 

“Is something wrong?” you ask him gently, and he feels the bristle of your hand on his jacket. 

So much was wrong. You couldn’t even begin to understand. 

“It’s fine,” he clears his throat, straightening up to adjust his jacket. “I’ll need to leave soon. I can have the car stay behind for you.”

The farther away he got from you, the better. That way no one could hurt you – or him. 

“I can go with you,” your voice echoes from beside him, “I was getting tired anyway.”

Hoseok turns to face you, watching you recoil at the red rimming his eyes, the bags underneath them becoming even more prominent in the dim lighting of the bathroom.

He doesn’t know what possesses him to reach for the single strand of hair that has managed to escape your polished bun, but he watches you suck in a breath, lips parting in surprise.

Before he knows it, your face is drawing in closer, and he can smell the rosé on your breath. Your lips barely ghost against his, and he has to fight every nerve ending not to grab your hand and run away from here, somewhere where he wasn’t Hoseok, and you weren’t ____, and you didn’t need protecting from everything around you – most of all him. 

His paralysis slowly melts away and he’s pushing you away without realizing, the door to the bathroom suddenly materialising in front of him. 

“Like I said,” he doesn’t bother turning around, knowing his heart would twist at whatever expression he found on your face. “I’ll have the car stay behind for you.”

Before you can wrestle with the weight of your confession to Hoseok, a hand is clamping over your mouth. Caught in a silent scream, you turn your eyes to see Hoseok lifting a finger to his lips, willing you to stay quiet. And that’s when you hear them. The voices.

Raucous laughter echoes through the hallway, tinged with malevolent glee. The air around you feels cold, a breeze at the base of your spine, and you instinctively curl into Hoseok.

“Come out, come out,” the disembodied voice cackles from the hallway. “Are you hiding from us, Jung? Found some poor rich girl to use as a body shield?”

Your hand seizes Hoseok’s wrist clamped against your mouth, nails digging into his arm, the fear taking over. Slowly, his wrist lowers, slipping to take your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I won’t let anything happen to you. Do you trust me?” 

He’s so quiet you almost can’t tell he’s said it at all. You nod reluctantly, eyes continuing to dart to the door.

“Go hide underneath the bed. Lock the door. I may or may not come back but please stay inside. Don’t come looking for me.”

His voice is clipped, the faint hint of nerves colouring his tone, but his eyes are filled with a resoluteness you know all too well. You’d spent the better part of over a year staring into them, hoping they’d look back. And now they finally were. 

“Be safe.” Your voice comes out louder than you’d intended, but there’s no anger in Hoseok’s expression. All he does is nod, and then you turn, stumbling down the hallway to your room, never bothering to look back until you hear the door click behind you.

. . .

Hoseok’s heart pounds in his chest, a strange pain settling in his ribs – he never expected to be in this position again. His sense of duty had always been his biggest downfall – and while you were no longer his, he owed it to you to make sure he gave you exactly what you’d asked him for – the chance to survive, to come out on the other side of this. That’s why he had to settle this once and for all.

Choi’s cronies linger at the other end of the hallway, too dumb to notice Hoseok slipping out of your door, reaching for the revolver he’d kept hidden in his coat pocket. A chill settles in his bones as he runs his fingers over the metal.

The brief events of the night play over in his head – the rain pounding against the pavement, the ding of the elevator, the now-cold mug of coffee that sat on your coffee table. And then there was you – your eyes, the softness of your skin, the faint smell of gardenias that lingered on your skin.

And it hits Hoseok that while he was very much alive – he’d been in mourning. Mourning for the friendships he’d never be able to recover, for the youth that had been taken away from him. But most of all, Hoseok’s heart mourns for the relationship he’d never gotten to have with you. The glass walls he’d so carefully put up around himself shatter, making way for a torrential deluge. 

After me, the flood.

He remembers the first night you’d met, how he’d been drawn to you without even trying, the portrait of the wave. He remembers the months that passed afterwards, where you drew closer to him and he drew back. He remembers the regret he’d buried deep in his heart for not kissing you back the night of the gala, not knowing he’d never get another chance.

But most of all, he remembers the somber expression on your face the day you’d ended things, pressing the engagement ring back into his hands, the very same ring that was still sitting in the first drawer of his nightstand. 

Choi’s men finally perk up, noticing Hoseok’s solitary figure lingering at the end of the hallway, smirks twisting on their grotesque faces. A shot rings out, and Hoseok thinks of you now, hiding under your bed. And then he charges.

The alleyway was grim at this time of day, the sunlight barely able to reach beyond the towering skyscrapers, the clouds casting everything in grey. Rain fell softly from the sky. You clutch your coat tighter around you, unable to stop looking at the mural of the wave.

So much had changed since you’d first seen it. And yet it was still the same.

You know Hoseok from the thud of his boots against the pavement, coming up beside you. His head turns, an eyebrow raised in your direction, wondering why you’d asked to meet him here of all places.

You avoid his eyes, fingers clasping around the blue velvet in your pocket. His eyes widen with surprise when he sees the box, confusion marring his handsome face. 

A knot forms in your chest when you watch the confusion turn into alarm as you press the box into his hand, the dazzling diamond no longer on your left finger.

“I don’t understand,” he grunts, breath visible in the cold air.

“We can’t do this anymore, Hoseok. I can’t do this. I can’t live like this.”

“Was it something that I did?” he questions you, desperation creeping into his voice.

You scoff, watching him flinch, pain on his face. 

“No, it’s the opposite. It’s what you haven’t ever been able to do. It’s been an entire year, Hoseok. I’ve watched you answer every phone call that comes your way, disappear into the night to do god knows what, run whenever your friends call. And in that entire time, have you ever thought about us? About the future?”

You take a deep breath.

“I know that neither of us chose this, but Hoseok, we were engaged. Did that mean anything to you?”

He squares his shoulders, fists clenching at his sides, a tick in his jaw.

“You don’t understand. I-I’m not good for you, ___. I dont think I’ll ever be. There’s too much that’s happened, too much I’ve lost. But please don’t walk away like this.

“I thought it’d be enough,” you whisper, and Hoseok freezes. You didn’t know he’d heard you.

“I thought me loving you would be enough for the both of us. But it’s not. I need more. I need someone who I know will come home to me every night. But what I need even more than that, is for you to let me walk away so I can breathe again. So I can be myself.”

Your eyes are just as sad as the first time Hoseok saw them, and all of a sudden, you remark at how stagnant the two of you had been together.

“Hoseok please, I know I can’t ask you to do it if you love me, but if you’ve ever cared about me, even the tiniest bit, let me go.”

You watch him open the box, gazing at the ring. Moments pass by before he slips it into his own pocket, his eyes flitting to the wave as he gives you a small smile, the most genuine one you’d ever seen.

“Goodbye, ____. 

Hoseok’s fist rattles against the door, before he slumps over, heaving for breath. The pain in his side licks at him like the flames of a fire. He hisses when he presses a hand to it, eyes widening when it comes away covered in blood. Those fuckers had managed to get him. Shit.

His eyes are about to close when the door springs open, the wide eyes of Kim Namjoon taking in his battered figure. 

“Hobi, what the fuck?” Namjoon seethes, offering him an arm and pulling him inside. Slinging an arm around Hoseok’s shoulder, the two of them hobble to Namjoon’s kitchen, the burning in Hoseok chest causing him to let out a loud groan.

“Hyun is sleeping,” Namjoon chastises him, and Hoseok bites his tongue, remembering that this Namjoon was dealing with a pregnant wife and a toddler. “You gonna tell me what the hell happened, or do I have to force it out of you?”

“I made a mistake, Namjoon. I went somewhere I shouldn’t have tonight. I fucked up, but I-I didn’t mean to I swear…”

Hoseok feels himself shake as the words pour out, the ruined mission the furthest thing from his mind. He tells Namjoon everything – from being tailed to running into to you, to how he’d left, not knowing whether you were okay or not. 

“That was a dick move,” Namjoon huffs.

“Excuse me?” Hoseok looks up at his best friend, who looks more pissed off than he’s ever seen him. 

“I said what I said. That was a dick move, just leaving her like that.”

“I don’t need a lecture on running away from you, Namjoon-ah.”

Namjoon wipes away the blood on his side, and Hoseok bites his tongue at the sting of the alcohol, before slumping into the chair next to him. 

“You’re an idiot, Jung Hoseok. You’ve been so afraid of letting yourself feel things for so long, and I know it’s because you think that everyone around you is going to leave, or that you’ll lose them. But I’m telling you right now, that’s the stupidest thing you could ever do.”

“You have to let yourself just be, Hobi. Just let go. Enjoy things - life, your friends, your family. Be open to the possibility of love. It’s the only thing that can keep the darkness away.”

Namjoon’s voice shrinks when he says the last line, and Hoseok knows his friend is far off in his own mind, battling the demons that plague him. 

“I think I’m too far gone for that, Namjoon,” Hoseok tells him. “Maybe some of us weren’t meant for happiness. Maybe some of us needed to make sacrifices so others could live the lives they wanted to.”

“That’s a damn lie if I’ve ever heard one, Hoseok.” Namjoon striaghtens, rising up from the chair. “I know you’ve been angry at me for leaving, for keeping you all in the dark. I know how much it hurts to not be able to share your happiest moments with people you love. And I’m sorry for that. But you have a chance to change things.”

“Listen Hobi,” Namjoon crouches down to his level. “I want to be the best man at your wedding – I want to be there for you in all the ways you didn’t get to do for me. This is my way of making amends, but you need to fix whatever this is between you two.”

“What makes you think she’ll even take me back? I was awful to her… god, she didn’t deserve that Joon. She deserves so much better.”

“Do you love her?” Namjoon asks him, and Hoseok is shocked when he doesn’t even have to pause to think about it. He wants to start over, to be by your side, to have a chance to love you properly this time around. 

“Second chances come when you least expect them, Hobi. Think about what would have happened if you hadn’t stepped out into the rain last night. And don’t let it happen again.”

The knock at the door startles you, your phone clattering to the floor. Swearing under your breath, you pick it up, perusing the message from Minghao once again. He was nothing if not persistent. And Hoseok was never coming back. You’d convinced yourself of that.

It’d been over a week since he’d left you that night - the promise to keep you safe burrowing its way into your heart. And then radio silence. You’d heard the gunshots in the hallway, but when you’d opened the door, no one was there, the only evidence of the showdown being the faint splatters of blood on the wall. When the police had questioned you, you’d left Hoseok’s name out of it – those words echoing in your mind, instilling a false sense of loyalty in you.

Why did you think things would be different this time around? It’d been foolish to assume that Hoseok thought anything more of you. But you couldn’t forget the look in his eyes, the gentle touches, the way he’d promise he would never let anything happen to you, and you fell for him all over again.

Throwing your phone aside, you grumble as you make your way to the door, making a mental note to respond to Minghao later, agreeing to the date.

Swinging it open, you freeze when you see who’s on the other end. Hoseok, looking worse for wear with bruises on his jaw and a nasty cut on his forehead, nervously twirling a tiny bouquet of flowers in his hand.

You’re dumbfounded - unable to speak as you take him in, his dark, inquisitive eyes gazing into your shocked ones. 

“You better let me in, ____,” he says with a grin. “Or the neighbours are gonna think I did something really bad this time.”

Wordlessly, you open the door to allow him to enter, watching as he slips off his coat and shoes, an exact repeat of a week ago. You watch him, trying to open your mouth and say something, ask him anything, but nothing will come out. 

“These are for you,” Hoseok nearly shoves the bouquet in your hands and you watch him rub at the back of his neck, his ears reddening.

“Are you okay Hoseok?” you finally manage to ask him, setting the flowers on your coffee table. Your concern wins out over your confusion once again, but the whole scene is odd – him, smiling in your apartment, the late afternoon sunlight casting half his angular face in a mysterious shadow.

“Just a little nick to my side,” he lifts his shirt up, your eyes widening at the bandages on his abdomen. “But actually, I’m not okay. I haven’t been okay since the day I let you walk away, and I can’t live with it anymore.”

You take a step back, unable to breathe. The space in between you seems to have lessened considerably, and you can make out every delicate detail of his face. Dizzy, you put some distance in between the two of you.

“Everything hurts, ___. It hurts because I look at you and I feel like I can’t breathe anymore, knowing how much pain I put you through. It hurts knowing that you’re so kind, so understanding of someone like me, when I don’t deserve it at all. And what hurts the most is knowing that I love you, and I’ve been lying to myself this entire time because I’m afraid you’ll leave just like everyone else, but I lost you anyway.”

Hoseok’s voice cracks on the last words, and you watch him sway, gripping onto your counter for support.

“I thought it was just me this entire time,” you finally manage to look him in the eyes, tears spilling out of your own. “I thought I was crazy, because ever since you walked out that door a week ago, all I’ve been doing is waiting for you to come back.”

“I’m here,” Hoseok closes the gap between you, arms wrapping around you. You breathe in the faint scent of tobacco on his leather jacket, mixed with the spice of his cologne. “And I’m not leaving. Not this time.”

You grip his lapels, before your arms come up to wrap around his neck, running your fingers through the soft hair at his nape. 

“What if it’s not different this time around?” you whisper into his neck. “What if nothing changes?”

“What if it is?” his low voice rumbles into your hair. “Can you trust me, ___? One more time?”

You take his hand in yours, bringing it to your chest, his lips parting in awe at the fluttering of your heartbeat.

“Only you can do that to me,” you say softly, a smile gracing your lips. 

Before you know it, Hoseok’s lips are crashing against yours, and you can feel him release a euphoric sigh, groaning into your mouth. It’s slow, tentative in the way he waits for your body to respond, never pushing more than you’re comfortable with. Eventually, even the small bit of distance in between you becomes too much to bear. You card your fingers into his hair, pulling slightly at the strands, warmth blossoming in your chest.

It feels too short when he pulls away all too soon, lips tinged with red and eyes dark with something that sends a shiver down your spine.

“I’ve wanted to do that ever since the night of the gala,” he rasps, warmth blooming in your chest at his confession. “You were—, I mean you still are, breathtaking.”

You can feel the rapid beat of his heart, his pulse point right there below your fingertips, and you reach for his hand, watching his entire body soften at your touch. 

“Come with me,” you ask him, eyes turning down the hallway to your bedroom. “We have a lot of lost time to make up for. 

Hoseok tries to ignore the rapid rushing of blood in his ears, his focus narrowing to your head resting on his shoulder, the two of you looking out at the city together for the last little while from your bed. It’s somewhere he never imagined he’d be, but he’d felt the ice around his heart melt the moment he’d finally kissed you for real, warmth filling his veins.

And despite relishing in your presence, it was spiking to a fever pitch. He’d tasted you, and now he couldn’t get enough. All it takes is a brief moment for you to look in his eyes, and he’s pulling you into him once again, mouth hard on yours, unable to resist the desire for more, more, more. 

You whine into his mouth, hands fisting at the edge of his shirt, struggling to pull it over his head. He uses one hand to pin both arms behind you, reaching over with the other to hike your dress up to your stomach, finally peeling it off, and you lie back, eyes alight with desire as you take him in. 

He kisses you again, his lean body hovering over yours, hands roaming everywhere – your arms, up your neck, and on your thighs. He inches higher and higher, fingers ghosting over your core.

“Hoseok please,” you whimper, digging your nails into his shoulder blades. “I can’t wait anymore.”

You part your thighs for him, and he wastes no time, pulling your soaked underwear to the side and dipping his fingers into your arousal. He presses another hard kiss to your lips, catching your moans in his mouth while he works you open, leaving you trembling underneath him.

You whine when his fingers leave you, clenching around nothing, coming up to cup your exposed breasts in both hands while he licks and sucks at your nipples.

“Fuck,” he groans against your chest. “How are you so perfect? How are you even mine?”

His voice breaks, and you mouth at his jaw, mirroring his actions until purple bruises begin to bloom in the spots where your lips previously were.

“I’m yours,” you nip at his bottom lip. “Whether you like it or not.”

“Believe me,” he smirks. “I like it. I like it a lot actually. Let me show you how much.”

With adept skill, he manages to remove your panties in seconds, throwing them to the wall. The clinking sound of his belt drives you mad, and your hands join his, the two of you awkwardly fumbling to remove it.

You feel your mouth go dry when his cock springs free, and he chuckles at the depraved look in your eyes.

“Some other time, love,” he whispers, voice lowering a few octaves. “Right now, I need to feel you.”

You gasp when he pushes in, and he pauses, wondering if it’s too much, but you nod, letting him know it’s okay. He thrusts shallowly, before pushing in all the way, watching you squirm underneath him while rutting your hips.

“Move, please,” you beg him, and he obliges, hiking one leg up over his shoulder to open you up for him, the wet sounds of your pussy accompanying the fluid snap of his hips. His knuckles grip the headboard, turning white while he pins you underneath him, unable to take his eyes off the way your tits bounce with every thrust. His hands grip at your ass, every jerk of his hips an excuse to hold you tighter, until he can see your skin redden underneath his fingers. 

“Oh my god, Hoseok, I can’t–, it’s too much,” you groan, rocking against him in an attempt to quell the sparks underneath your skin, lighting you up like a livewire.

“Come for me,” he grunts, trapping your clit in between his fingers, rubbing tight circles until you snap, seeking his lips once again, your orgasm flooding your entire body like a wave. Hoseok speeds up his thrusts to join you, roaring when he feels himself explode, before slumping against you, chest heaving with the weight of his breaths. 

Moments pass like this, him remaining inside you while he burrows into the crook of your neck, his warm breath fanning your damp skin. Eventually he pulls out of you with a soft whine, brushing away the sweat-soaked strands of hair at your temple, before rising. 

You trap his wrist in your hand, panic settling in. He watches your expression change and immediately stiffens, cradling you against his chest.

“That expression you always talk about, the flood. I-, I looked it up. And I know the life I have isn’t ideal, and maybe things will only get harder, but I promise I will do everything in my power to keep you safe. I don’t want to live out the rest of my life not caring anymore.”

“Do you know what I was thinking of that night, looking at the wave?” you mumble in his ear, and he gazes at you inquisitively, watching the way your skin glows under the moonlight as you take a breath.

“My whole life, people have forced me into this box, this image, of someone they want me to be – the perfect daughter, the perfect wife. It’s been suffocating. All I wanted that night was a taste of freedom - that feeling of happiness you have on a beach, feeling the waves crash at your feet. And then I saw you.”

Hoseok leaves a kiss in your hair, his fingers intertwining with yours. Briefly, his heart drops at the absence of the ring he’d given you on your finger, but he knows when you’re ready, it’ll be waiting for you. He’ll be waiting for you. And the two of you will step into the flood, together. 

a/n pt. 2:  Okay long ending note here. First, please visualize this Hoseok with the undercut ;) Second, I don't normally say this but the writer's block really got me good with this one, so I apologize if it's not up to my usual standards (pls be kind tho). And third and last, this fic definitely would never exist if it weren't for the wonderful Guarded series by Ana (@xjoonchildx). I think about it more than is necessary and this is definitely my tribute to the impeccable Captain Jung.

As always, any comments or feedback are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi &lt;3

taglist (pls let me know if you want to be removed): @jalexad @secfir @hobi-love @back2bluesidex @temptingempress

[forever-once-gone]

Day 4: Hoseok - Your cat, unfortunately, picks favourites </3

Part of the Love, Amour, Aur Pyaar drabble series for February! (what a joke lol)

Word count: 2.7k

Content and Warnings: soft? yandere au, gn! reader, Hobi dearest is an intruder, your cat loves you but loves Hoseok more, knives, threats, attempted murder (not to you), dark content, cleaning, too much cat talk, reader is mad like really mad, house break-ins, unsafe housing ig, I couldn't bare to make Hobi too evil in this even though I probably should have considering the context... but it's Hobi :(

Author's Note: Hi! Another one for you guys. You guys got this cause a few kind anons and @comingupwithacoolnameishard were nice enough to let me know that they would like me to continue posting this series. Which I'm so touched by. So this is dedicated to them! Thanks for being so kind dears! This is unedited as per the rules of this drabble series/challenge. Anyways, enjoy!

You would often hear the shuffling of your cat in the dead of night. The little guy would often run around your house with his heavy flops and little pitter-patter footfalls. It didn't wake you up when you first got him, when he was just a little kitten enjoying the various rooms and halls of your house. He was so small that you barely ever noticed him running around until he’d get bored of the emptiness (usually around 4:30 am, when the birds would begin to sing) and make his way back to your room to scream up at you from the floor, asking to be let back up into the comforts of the bed with you. Then he would purr right into your neck contently until he’d wake up with you at 7:30.

But with his growing age, he had become larger and more disruptive in the night. And more mischievous as well. In the dead of night, since the past 8-9 months or so, you’d been hearing clacking of dishes, cabinets, and doors. Auguste knew he wasn’t allowed on the countertops from when he was just a little kitten, fresh from the shelter, and he was good at not opposing you when it came to his limitations. He wouldn’t climb into cabinets like other cats did and he didn’t show any attempts of trying to sneak his way in either. But it seemed when you were asleep in your room, his confidence would rise and he’d begin breaking all the rules. Maybe he was going through his teenage rebellion phase.

Nonetheless, you were often now roused from your sleep to the sound of Auguste going wild downstairs. You’d pause for a second, straining your ears to hear whether the little man had gotten himself hurt or stuck in the cabinets, but when the sounds of his heavy walking around would resume, you’d relax, turn, and fall back asleep. You knew he was fine, as every early, early morning he’d still finish his little rebellious session by appearing at the side of your bed, meowing for you to pick him up and pull him into bed with you. At this age, he was more than capable of getting on the bed himself, but you think he’d made it part of his routine to have you, specifically, pull him into bed. Even if in the day he’d happily jump up and down from your bed as he pleased.

Maybe you’d spoiled him too much when he was a baby.

Only on the nights that he wouldn’t make it back to your room by 4:30 would you begin to worry that he had gotten himself trapped in a cabinet or something of the like. You’d wait no more than fifteen minutes before getting out of bed and calling from your door out into the hall for Auguste quietly, only getting louder as the time went on. But every single time, he’d trot up the stairs, calling back to you with his me-ah noises. He’d finally run up to you when he’d see you standing by the door, arms down stretching, ready to scoop him up. He’d circle your legs for a turn or two before flopping into your hands, gleefully accepting the kiss you placed between his ears with a small mmerp.

You’d reprimand him jokingly. Asking him what devious crimes he’d been up to only for him to purr as you tucked him under the covers beside you. It was funny though, even though you joked about his “devious crimes” the house was never really out of order when you’d wake up after his active nights. Okay, maybe some things were shifted, out of place, the paper towel holder an inch to the left of where you kept it, the wash cloth haphazardly thrown onto the sliver between the two sides of the sink, but nothing disturbed. Nothing broken, nothing ruined. It was like even in his most mischievous of moods he could never be too bad.

It was another such night when Auguste trampled around the house, creating the ruckus that would cause you to stir. When you checked the time, you saw that it was nearly 4 am. You looked around you, but couldn’t find Auguste. He must be downstairs messing around.

But that’s when you noticed just how cold it had gotten overnight. Even while bundled up in your duvet, you were still shivering. Was it supposed to get this cold tonight? It was barely even close to winter, this is too much. Your poor little cuddlebug was probably freezing his paws off downstairs. If it was cold up here, it was probably freezing downstairs!

You managed to pull yourself out from the warmth of your bed thinking of your cat. You pulled a throw blanket that sat at the foot of your bed around your shoulders to try and protect your warmth. You tried to call for him, but just as you were about to, you heard a crashing sound from downstairs. 

You immediately startled, taking a step back before taking for the stairs, not even bothering to turn on the hallway light. You made it halfway down when you heard a noise coming from behind you. It grew louder and louder until it was right behind you. You just managed to jump to the side in the dark to barely make out Auguste sitting beside you on the step, his eyes practically the only part of his that you could see in the dark.

“Auguste?” The cat let out a meow in acknowledgement. “Aren’t you freezing?”

You scooped him up into your arms, under the blankets you had wrapped around yourself. He felt cold against you. Maybe it had gotten much too cold overnight. “Let’s go turn the heating on, hmm?”

Auguste only pulled his head out of the blanket in reply, looking out in front of the both of you, with only his head peeking out.

You hummed a little song as you made your way down the remaining steps. The thermostat was at the bottom of the stairs, right by the front door. With the moonlight streaming in from the window beside the door, you were able to locate the thermostat on the wall. You cranked the temperature up, and the furnace roared to life from below your feet.

“Let’s get back to bed, eh?” You pulled the blanket tighter around you with the arm not holding Auguste up. You pressed a kiss against his head, before turning back to the staircase. But when you turned to the stairs, you saw a faint yellowish light against the stairs that you hadn’t noticed before. Following the line of light, you saw the kitchen door cracked open, soft light making its way down the hall.

You must have left the light on earlier. Better turn it off before your electricity bill skyrockets. You pushed open the door and immediately froze.

There was a man.

A man.

In your kitchen.

Illuminated by the light from under the exhaust fan.

Wiping down the stove.

In your kitchen.

A man.

Auguste jumped from out of the blankets, landing with a thump on the ground before skittering over to the man. You wanted to grab him and run, but you couldn’t. You were frozen to your spot, watching your precious cat approach this stranger.

Auguste ran between the intruder’s legs, purring as he rubbed his face and body against his ankles. Between the various thoughts coursing through your head, you had one neuron notice that the man was wearing your guest slippers. Auguste bumped his head against the man’s leg, before meowing his grievances up at him.

The man just chuckled quietly, before whispering, “give me one second, Auguste. I’m almost done with the last of the cleaning.” He continued to wipe up the counters and stove for a few more seconds before finally rinsing the washcloth in the sink and putting it to the side to dry. In the same spot you always put it. By the window. Wait, why was the window open?

He washed his hands, drying his hands against his shirt before picking Auguste up. He pressed a kiss against his head, between his ears just as you do. “It’s getting late, shouldn’t you be running up to Y/n, hmm? Cuddling up to them? Making me all jealous?”

Auguste purred in his arms. You could see him moving Auguste around in his arms, bouncing him in his arms like a baby. “You should go up. Don’t want ‘em to come down and look for you, do you? What would we do if I was caught, hmm? Then I’d never be able to come and see the two of you?”

Auguste meowed up at him, pawing at the man’s face.

“You’re right. Maybe it’s time that I finally introduced myself to your parent. Then I could win them over and finally take both of you away with me.”

Auguste let out a disgruntled noise, before licking at the man’s cheek.

“Okay, okay,” the man relented. “I’ll move in instead, happy? Then all three of us can live happily ever together in this beautiful, clean house. Think you could cuddle up to me when I come over for the first time when they invite me over for the first time? If they think you just instantly loved me, then I might win them over even quicker!” The man laughed quietly. 

“You, me, and—” he turned around and locked eyes with you. “—Y/n.”

The two of you stared at each other. Both frozen in place as if your bones and flesh had turned into marble. Auguste looked between the two of you, seemingly confused. He began to fidget in the man’s arms, causing the man’s arms to tighten around him. Auguste let out a frustrated hiss before the man jumped, releasing him from his arms and finally pressing play on the two of you.

“Y/n, I can explain—” 

“Who the hell are you?” You demanded.

“I’m, um, I’m…” His hands balled into fists as he shifted from foot to foot. Almost like he wanted to run away.

“Your name,” you stressed, taking a step into the kitchen from the doorframe. “I’m asking for your name.”

His lips were pursed together. “I don’t, um… I don’t think I’m supposed to tell you that…”

You raised your eyebrows, an incredulous scoff passing through you. “But you’re supposed to be in my house?”

The man could see your expression even though his shadow was covering you, but even if he couldn’t, your tone made it clear that you weren’t happy.

“I was… just cleaning.”

“Oh! Just cleaning? Oh that makes it so much better. Now I’m not concerned at all with this stranger standing in my kitchen!”

He winced. The man knew he’d said the wrong thing.

You moved to grab a knife from the knife block near you, pointing it at him with both hands. With your hands preoccupied, the blanket had fallen from your shoulders, pooling at your feet, just missing Auguste. “You have five seconds to tell me your name and why you’re here before I kill you.”

The man’s eyes widened, slowly raising his hands in alarm. Why is it that he was in your house uninvited, but he felt like the one who needed to call the cops? “Uh, come on, Y/n. We don’t have to go that far,” he tried.

Your eyes darkened, taking another step towards the man. “Don’t say my name. Don’t you fucking dare say my name.”

The man backed up until he was pressed against the counter, his hands coming back to steady himself. You continued closer to him, until you had the tip of the blade pressed against his adam's apple.

“Tell me your name before I slit your throat!” you screamed at him, eyes crazed.

“Fine! Fine, my name is Jung Hoseok. I met you once, at a bar.” Hoseok had turned his head slightly away from your knife, eyes screwed tight. Hands clenching tightly to the counter for dear life.

“Who the fuck cares how I met you? All I care about is that I have a name to give the police when they come to collect your body!” You pulled the knife back and straightened your aim for his jugular. But just before you could bring the knife down on his flesh, your cat began meowing like crazy at your feet. 

He was on his hind legs, his front paws clawing at both your legs as he cried, wheezing his little heart out at the both of you. You’d never seen Auguste so stressed. You’d always kept him so happy.

You took a step back from his sharp claws, pulling your calf up to try and soothe the marks Auguste had scraped onto you.

You watched as Hoseok, given the room to move around freely now, scooped Auguste right up into his arms, pressing hisses to Auguste’s upset face.

“Hey there,” he sweetly spoke to your cat. “Now, now, your parent isn’t hurting me. It’s okay. Shhh, shhhhhh, it’s okay. They are just a bit surprised, okay? They won’t hurt me. See, I’m not hurt.” He raised his chin to show Auguste his neck. “See, I’m a-okay.” You watched Auguste relax in Hoseok’s hold, moving to lick all over his face as if he was trying to heal him.

“Now why don’t you ask your parent, not to kill me, hmm?”

You let out a disbelieving laugh. “Are you trying to use my cat to manipulate me?”

Hoseok just shook his head, Auguste still curled up in his arms purring. “No, just trying to get him to talk some sense into you.”

“You’re talking about a cat right now.” You brought the knife back up, pointing it at him as he took a step forward. Auguste immediately straightened up, hissing at you.

“Did–Did you just hiss at me?!” You asked your cat, only for him to swipe at you with his claws. Even though you were out of reach for him to scratch you, the damage had already been done. “You’re choosing the intruder over me?!”

Auguste hissed at you again.

Hoseok laughed sweetly, too sweetly for the fact that you had a knife aimed right at him while he had nothing to protect himself with. It only made your anger heighten. “Don’t you know, you’re talking to a cat right now?” he threw your words right back at you.

“Oh fuck off!” You moved to cut him with the knife, only for Auguste to hiss at you again, this time his claws actually landing on you, cutting open your forearm. “Auguste! What the hell?!” You dropped the knife, narrowly missing your foot as you stepped back in pain.

Hoseok gasped, pulling the cat back from you. “Auguste! You can’t do that to Y/n! No matter what they do to me, you don’t hit them!”

Auguste only made a smug sound as he stared at you from his place in Hoseok’s arms.

“What black magic did you do to him?! Why does he like you more than me? Why is he protecting you and not me!”

Hoseok immediately tried to reassure you. “Oh no, Y/n, you misunderstand! Our baby doesn’t pick favourites! He loves you just as much as he loves me. He only did that ‘cause you had a knife! Now that you put it down and he knows you won’t hurt me, he’s fine, see?” 

He held Auguste out into your face by his armpits. Auguste only stayed silent as he stared into your soul. He had never seemed so upset with you.

“Come on, Auguste,” he coaxed your cat, your baby into being kind to you. “Give them a kiss so they know you love them just as you love me.”

Auguste refused to lick you, but with some more of Hoseok’s sweet encouragement, he pressed the pads of his paw against the tip of your nose. Seemingly, the most affection he was willing to give you after you almost killed his second favourite person. Or maybe his first, you weren’t really sure if you were still number one in his eyes with the blatant aggression he’d shown you tonight on Hoseok’s behalf.

“See, Y/n.” Hoseok brought Auguste back against his check, only for him to instantly start purring again. “He doesn’t hate you. Do you, Auguste?”

You watched as Hoseok fussed over Auguste and how Auguste, in turn, revelled in his affection just like he always did with you.

You were never gonna be able to get rid of Hoseok now were you?

No you will not lol

In case you're wondering, Hoseok broke into your house by the window in the kitchen. Which is why it was open, and also why your house was getting so cold so quickly. Like yeah, the night was cold anyway, but it was made worse by him leaving the door open.

Auguste does love the two of you equally... at least that is what Hoseok thinks. But after Hoseok making it routine to come into your house to wipe the counters, sweep, reorganize your pantry, snoop through your things and watch you while you sleep, and give Auguste plenty of pets and give him company during his nightly walks around the house, he'd quickly become number one. But you were still a very close second.

Oh yeah, also, Auguste was not the one who was making all that noise the past 8 or 9 months, it was Hoseok. Auguste just inadvertently took the blame lol

Anyways, let me know if you enjoyed. Hearing what you guys think is why I post anything in the first place, so please do comment. It lets me know that I'm not wasting time posting my silly ramblings.

Take care!

[writersrealmbts]

Treasured Hoard: Part 6

Part 5

Description: Dragon Hoseok! You’re spelunking when you come across a dragon, and suddenly your life is a lot more complicated as he adds you to his hoard.

Posted: 04/20/2024

Tags: Dragon!Hoseok, Shapeshifter!Hosoek, Hoseok X Reader

Hoseok was going to have a coronary.

You had ventured outside because it was a beautiful day and waiting for him to get home in the evening was making time pass so slowly that you decided to explore the area, just a tiny bit!

You were lost.

And quite possibly concussed.

This didn't look like your home cavern, but there were dragon tracks that looked like the right size for Hobi's.

And there was a dragon hiding in the shadows of the ceiling.

Could be Hobi pouting because you weren't home when he got back?

Continue Reading on Ao3...

Part 5 ~  Part 7

Masterlist ~ Hoseok Masterpost

Tagging: @alex-awesome-22 @missmoxxiesworld​  @bryvada​ @knjhe​  @i-dont-even-know-fck​ @sinceritythatcouldntbedelivered

[kimtaesss]

OUR BELOVED HOME | JIN.2

Summary: your relationship wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough for both of you. Yet that all changes when you caught your sister and husband in bed.

Pairings: Jin x reader

Genre: angst; slight fluff?

Warnings: poor y/n going through it 😭. Everyone is bipolar! I mean it! Jin is a dick and so is the sister! Mentions of father; mentions of death? Just lots of breakdowns and cursing. Also, I apologize for the wait! Ik it’s been sooo long, but life has been hectic. And lots of my writing got deleted. So, I also apologize for this short and confusing chapter. Thank u for the patience and love 🤍

first chapter > Jin. 1

No amount of apologizes or excuses were going to make up what you had just witnessed.

It's never easy seeing the man you love, the one that you promised to share your life with, and all the craziness included, being in the arms of someone else. Or in this case, laying on his back, while your sister was straddling him.

Your sister?!

It wasn't a stranger. It wasn't even an acquaintance. It was someone you grew up with and admired. You always thought that you and her had a special bond, but you guess it was perhaps a way to get closer to your husband.

It's embarrassing to even admit this to yourself; in your mind. And the worst part is that you witnessed it all. There was no erasing or denying that can be done on your part, when you saw everything. And heard the lies, and no care from their very mouths.

You're not even sure where you are at this very moment. You're just standing in front of a bunch of lights that are slowly fading away, as the night grows closer. While your hand carries your sandals, and your cheeks carry your tears.

Once you saw that incident, you had to leave. You had to run away from your thoughts, the lies, the betrayal, and the hurt. But something's just can't be avoided. No matter how fast or far you run.

"Now, now. Stay close to me dear, we don't know how that lady is" you heard a mother attempt to whisper to her daughter, while she stared at you with such disgust, that it made you scare to look at your own reflection.

You wanted to go up to them, and say you aren't a bad person or even scary for that matter. Your mascara had just wandered all over your face, as your heart began breaking into tiny pieces.

But you get it. You get her. She's protecting the person she loves the most.

You're a bit embarrassed to admit you're jealous of a little kid. After all, she had someone who cares for her, and isn't ashamed to show it. While you just have a signature on a piece of paper, with a man who keeps anything but his promises.

It was strange. Your mind has so much and so little going on. It was as foggy as the weather, and as confused as you were walking into that.

A buzz kept bothering your state of mind. And you know it's them, or at least one of them attempting to silence your truth. And you want to ignore it, them. But you couldn't hide the love and care you still possess for both of them. It's not something that can be erased with a snap of a finger.

You're not sure what triggered you most. The fact that your sister is texting you. Or the fact that she was texting you?!

She didn't even have the decency to attempt to call you. Or blow up your phone. Or even follow after you. Especially considering that her betrayal hurt you the most. The only difference was that it was so unbearable that you don't even want to attempt to feel or think of the pain she caused you.

Mia: I'm sorry.

That's it? She must really not give a single fuck about you. You should ignore her.

You: You should be.

Yeah, that was never going to happen. You staying silent that is. At least not when it came to her.

You noticed another notification and realized Jin, your dear husband, had sent you a message, minutes before her.

Jin: I'm sorry! Please just let me explain! I thought that was you! I swear, it's nothing like that. Babe please text me back! I'm worried.

You: Worry about yourself.

You shut your phone. And stare up at the building in front of you.

After yesterday, you could have sworn that you would not end up here today. But here you are, stupidly falling back to your old habits. Which you suppose, could be worse. Or maybe not.

Jin could have not had a more horrible week planned out even if he wanted to.

When he woke up that morning he wasn't expecting it to start the way it did, or end the way it did.

He knows that what he did was wrong, he can admit that. And he can also admit that he's known for awhile now but that never was enough to stop him from having sex with his wife's sister.

It’s been a couple of days now, that he’s been released from the hospital. After all, it wasn’t anything major. He had a couple of bruises and swelling, he shouldn’t have been there in the first place.

He supposed you freaked out because you just cared that much about him. Or maybe you just felt guilty since technically speaking it was your fault not his.

He has chugged three beers so far, while he's been at his apartment. He figured he should have a separate place for his shenanigans. That's why, he hasn't been over to the shared house.

There was just no words that could come out of his mouth in this instant to get him out of this mess. None.

He's also been waiting on his food to be here for what seems like hours, but there have been no signs, nor updates about it. He's starting to lose hair from all the stress he's undergoing this week.

However, once he opened his front door he was unaware of how much more stress he was able to handle again.

"What are you doing here? Haven't you ruined my life already?"

"No." She says with a proud smirk on her face. "That was all your doing." She ends off her little talk with a shrug. As she enters his home, with no regards to his feelings. Even hits his shoulder a little on the way inside.

He stared at her with confusion and annoyance. He even tends to headache by massaging his forehead with his fingers. But decides he might as well get this over with.

"How? How is this my doing?"

She takes no time to answer. Almost as if she had rehearsed this whole speech and interaction. God, was she exhausting.

"It takes two people to have sex. And you loved it as much as I did before she entered the room. I made sure you did" she sent a wink your way, and even has the nerve to bite her lips. If she wanted to look sexy, she's failing. She just looks constipated.

"Stop doing that face. It's gross."

"Yet you loved it when you texted me the other night. What was it that you said? You wanted to ruin my pretty little face?"

He gulped, as he watched her continue her rant. It's not like he could butt in and deny it. It's exactly what he sent her. He was drunk, horny, and annoyed of the previous argument or lack of, he had with his wife. And he knew she would cave in, she just loves the attention.

"I was drunk and horny I would have said anything to get laid. But then again, you would just about accept anything, to get laid as well. I don't have to try hard when you give it up so easy. Talk about having no love for yourself."

"Oh! I love myself just plenty"

Her comment only made you giggle. Who is she trying to convince? Cause she sure as hell won’t convince you.

"I'm not your mirror. You don't have to lie to me. Everyone who sees you knows you don't love yourself. Maybe that's why you're always invested in your sister's life?"

"Maybe?" she gulps, as she pretends his words had no real affect on her. When in reality, they ran through her veins like blood. And cut deep like a knife. "But you don't love yourself either Jin."

"I don't?" He was taken aback by her comment, simply because he never truly thought about this, himself. Did he love himself? Maybe.

"I mean if you did why would you lose someone like my sister? I mean she loves you so much, she's taken on a second job to help you with the bills! Aren't you the man in the marriage? Sure doesn't seem like it."

He simply rolls his eyes, as there's not much that can be said to defend his honor. Although, he hates how someone as dumb and useless as her, is making him feel like shit.

"Why don't you do all of us a favor and man up. Huh? Maybe then, you'll realize that the only real loser is you."

And with that she left. She didn't care to hear his response nor worry about how her words were hurting him. She knew she did. Jin may not ever have the balls to admit it, but she knows him like the back of her hand. There's also the case that he's predictable.

Her sister would have noticed sooner if she stopped thinking with her heart, and stop seeing him through her love lenses. She was as they say, "blinded by love".

He, however, was slowly realizing one thing.

She was right about everything.

Your phone kept buzzing but your mind was more busy and bothersome than any other noise. It felt like there was town full of people, swarming your mind.

You wanted to stop all the noise you kept finding, even without looking. You wanted to think of all the misery your husband had brought you throughout the years, so you can just leave him behind. With all the past broken promises, and you suppose now the present ones included.

You wanted to let go of your childhood, of all the memories and times you felt blessed to be surrounded by a caring and beautiful sister like yours.

You wanted to pinpoint when your whole life was beginning to become a lie.

Were you too busy thinking about yourself to notice when things were slowly slipping away from you? Were you too cocky to believe that you wouldn't be betrayed by the people you love and adore the most?

It seems silly to even dwell on things like this. You shouldn't have to carry such burden and guilt, for being the victim to their games.

You scoff wholeheartedly, as you stare at the pictures with hand made frames, that held every moment of your life, with people who only managed to brighten it up to later cover it with pure darkness.

"Y/n! Please open the door!"

You heard the knock but your body was too busy dwelling on the pain, that there was no strength nor thought to stand up and open the door. It's not like you wanted to either way.

Or maybe you did.

Maybe you wanted to hear their excuse so you can move past this nonsense. Maybe it was a prank to make you feel guilty for what happened earlier with Jin and Jimin, that stranger who made you feel more like a human and less like an object.

How you wish you could find a solution to this problem.

"Please.." his voice was slowly becoming faint, weak. And it spoke directly to your heart, the way it jumped a beat, and broke to tears.

"Just leave.." you answer back, as you're unable to see him face to face.

It's been a few minutes, and there's still no silence from the other side of your door. Which has lead you to have an internal turmoil.

Should you let him in? Or should you let him continue humiliate himself?

Well at the end he's humiliating you, as your neighbors are becoming aware of his affairs, and your troublesome marriage.

Therefore, you made the decision to let him inside. Even though, you're afraid of the outcome. You're weak there's no doubt about it.

As you slowly twist the door knob to let him in your home, your shared home you suppose. You look down afraid to make direct contact right off the bat. Because like you said, you were far too weak to even attempt to be strong.

And once he enters inside your home, he takes no time to talk his heart out, as he falls down to his knees, hands colliding, rubbing against eachother as he begs for his forgiveness. There's tears falling down his cheeks, and although it breaks you to see him in this condition. Your mind automatically wonders if any of this is real or an act to save his ass.

Because he sure as hell doesn't want to save this marriage. He had plenty of time to go to couples therapy, as you recommended him to do, for years now.

"It didn't mean anything to me. But you do"

"I don't" You scoff, as your eyes fall anywhere but his. You know that you're already too weak to avoid his calls or texts, or to not let him inside your place. As you eventually caved in.

And you know it's partly because you still loved him. But there was also this part of you, that hoped he was telling the truth. That all of this was just a dumb and stupid mistake. How badly you wanted that to be true.

But as you close your eyes to flee his stare, your mind wanders to the very reason as to why this is even happening. You see your sister on top of him, moving in a way, you wished you could. You see his smirk as he runs his hands all over her perfect body.

You mouth begins shaking attempt to cover a whimper that was slowly building confidence. You slowly start to build that confidence as well, as your eyes catch a small glimpse of his. And like your marriage, you broke down in several different ways.

You cover your face with your hands, again believing that you'll be able to erase everything that you witnessed, but instead making it harder. Because as your eyes closed, the images just came back stronger. You had more space to think of their affair. You had more space to think of how lonely you've felt throughout your whole marriage, and for some stupid, stupid reason you can't help but blame yourself.

"Y/n... please don't cry. I- I only want the best for you. I hate seeing you hurt."

You glared at him. You couldn't believe the audacity or the words that came out of the very mouth that promised you a lifetime of happiness and love.

"If you hate seeing me hurt so much, then why hurt me? Then why sleep with my sister? And why do it when I'm in the same fucking place?! I- I can't believe I ever loved you."

I can't believe I still do.

"It was an accident?! Why can't you fucking understand that? Huh? Accidents happen and not everyone is perfect. I'm human. I'm flawed, and you knew that before we got married. So just deal with it. This is who I am"

You scoff, shake your head, and laugh a little at his comment. " Was it an accident when your dick slipped in my friend? Or how about that waitress on our 3rd year anniversary? And I'm sure I'm missing a couple more..."

"This again? Are you serious?" He pulls his hair out of anger. And slowly starts getting up from the floor, he was previously begging for forgiveness. Guess, he’s abandoning that too.

"You're paying thousands of dollars for therapy, just so you can stay in the same place? You said you forgave me, so why do you keep bringing it up?!"

"Because I can't forget!" Your anger is slowly turning into exhaustion. You feel defeated, and unheard. How could possibly forget everything he has done to you, during your marriage? Nothing made sense anymore.

"I can't forget that you always found a way into someone else's arms and not mine!"

"It's not-"

"Don't!" You place your hands in front of you to prevent him from stepping closer.

"I vowed to be with you through sickness and health and I meant it. I meant every single word that night, but I can't keep fighting over the same thing, over different people. I can't keep making myself at fault for something you did. I- I can't keep feeling like this. I can't."

"Like what? What exactly are you trying to say?"

Typical. He only answered a bit that was insignificant.

"Like I'm just invisible. I want to be seen! I want to be able to feel you with me. I want to be... me. I don't know who I've become but I hate her. I hate me." You look down and start thinking.

"And it's stupid because I hate me more than I hate you. And I don't deserve that. And you don't deserve me."

"We deserve eachother." He immediately butts in as if it would confuse you, and make you agree with him.

"We probably did at some point. But we don't anymore."

"Y/n... just think about what you're about to say.."

There’s nothing to think about. He cheated again. He lied again. He choose someone else over you again.

"I want a divorce as soon as possible."

And with that you grabbed your purse, and walked out of your own house. You couldn't breathe if you had stayed longer.

And you hate that those words escaped your mouth, you were taught better. You were taught to fight for as long as it is needed, if it involved someone you loved.

And in a way you did abide by that. Because even though you love him more than yourself, the person that needed that extra love was not him but you.

You're not sure what else happened that night. And you chose to keep it that way.

Because the only thing you are sure of, is the headache you are currently possessing.

"Where the hell are my pills"

Unfortunately because of the fucking sun hitting your face, you can’t see anything. Leaving you to throw your hands around every spot until you feel a bottle, and hope it’s the one with the pills you need for this headache. Seems like you’ve been having more lately.

"Right drawer" a man with a deep voice comments, and you immediately jump, as you’re clearly startled by this random voice in this random setting.

You begin rubbing your eyes, and then shift to placing your hands onto of your eyes, hoping it blocks the sunlight. And gives you more access to the person in front of you.

But as you squint your eyes, and do all sorts of sports to have a clear view. It seems like your view only seems to be more out of focus.

"Dad? What are you doing here?"

"You accidentally butt dialed me. Figured I should come check on you, once I heard your argument with Jin." As he’s explaining everything to you, you slowly hide behind your blanket, or pillow. He’s simply laughing to your nonsense behavior, as he always does.

You’re sort of glad it was him over your mother.

"Oh." You begin sitting up on your bed. "That's embarrassing...."

"It's not." He answers with sincerity, that it almost makes you feel more at ease. But then you cringe, remembering the argument you had with your husband, and your father hearing everything.

You glare at him. Because of the position he put you in.

"It's not!" He attempts to assure you again.

"You know how many times, me and your mother had the divorce talk?"

That’s one way to bring you back to your senses.

"I don't know. How many?" You question, but also slightly shifting to avoid his gaze. You don’t like to make eye contact, it makes everything real.

"Too many times! We talked about getting divorce so much, it took time out of our days, making it impossible to actually go get it." He chuckles, as he starts imagining those days, the arguments, the threats. And a sad smile forms on his face, knowing that his marriage was ever at a point of ending.

"Well that's always nice to hear dad. I love how open you are about your lack of love in your marriage. While mine is also crumbling."

"I'm not bringing it up to hurt you. I'm bringing it up because well honestly speaking. I enjoyed the arguments with your mother more than I've enjoyed any normal conversation with anyone else."

"That doesn't make sense. You're not making sense."

He laughs. "What I mean is it's easy to want to give up on a marriage when it's hard or you know, serious offenses are being made like cheating. But sometimes it's important to realize that every human has a flaw, and with marriage we are supposed to accept that and even embrace it."

"Dad you're going all traditional on me."

"Y/n-" He attempts to cut you off and even begins remembering the speech he had prepared beforehand.

But you didn’t let him.

"No! Look I appreciate that you came all the way here to speak to me about your marriage, and what not. But this is mine. And I'm just not sure I can get passed this betrayal. I've forgiven enough."

"He just doesn't love me.." You lowly say, afraid to be judged by him. He was never fond of him, but here he was defending him instead of you. Maybe, you were asking him to talk all the shit he’s been holding in.

Of course, you’re never lucky.

"He does. Just speak to him." He placed his hand onto yours to give you some comfort. But you don’t feel it. You don’t feel his hand, his warmth, or comfort.

It makes you think of many things, but you attempt to shake it off and continue with your.. therapy session, you suppose.

"I already did. Trust me he doesn't."

"Well, I can't make you do anything but I'm always here. You know I'll always be your guardian angel."

Guardian angel? That’s a weird way to say he’s always going to protect you. You would have thought he would have said something cringe like a bodyguard. That was more on brand for him. But it’s getting sentimental, so you just go along with him.

"I know dad.. I know."

And with that you woke up. This time you woke up with all the lights turned off, with sweat pouring down your forehead. And your breathing becoming uneven.

You let out every single tear or emotion you held back, and release it. You had another dream about your father. And usually it's forgotten, but this time its not.

You look up and attempt to form a smile on your face, even if it was more on the sad side.

“My guardian angel”

Taglist: Tag list: @mwitsmejk @ikonsiconic @pretzelssbangtan @evafrechette @taelici0us @bjoriis @sukakakakakakkq @laylasbunbunny @belovedsthings @kimxhanbin131 @got7usernames @bambamsthings @rainfprest @whipwhoops @bloodline1632 @sevenlives07

[aphroditelovesu]

what about yandere!bts reaction: they accidentally kill you or you kill yourself after they punish you?

❝YANDERE!BTS Reaction: They Kill You/You Kill Yourself:

❝💜— lady l: this is darker than I thought it would be, please read the warnings to make sure none of this bothers you.

tw: yandere themes, possessiveness, death, description of death and violence, suicide, murder, gun and knife.

word count: +2,k

Kim Seokjin

At first, Jin wouldn't even realize what he was doing. He was so focused on his anger, on his jealousy and his desire to hurt you that he didn't realize he was going too far. He didn't realize until it was too late.

He only noticed when you stopped fighting him.

And it was too late.

Jin panicked when he realized you weren't breathing anymore. That your life was gone.

He dropped to his knees as he took hold of what he had done. He had never gone so far in his punishments, he had never thought of killing you. How could he have killed his soulmate?

He refused to leave your side, refused to let go of your lifeless body. He didn't care if he starved to death, nothing else mattered, he would do whatever it took to get you back.

Jin languished for days, weeks and refused to do anything but hunched over your body, muttering weak words of apology.

Even in death, he would never let you go.

Min Yoongi

Everything happened so fast that Yoongi didn't even have time to breathe properly. One moment he was by your side and the next you were dead.

It wasn't his fault. At least that's what he said to stay sane at a time like this.

But he knew the truth, he was the one who caused your death. Even if it wasn't intentional, he was to blame for you not being alive anymore.

You were arguing for a silly reason in his head, about Min's absurd overprotection and when you threatened to leave him, that's when Yoongi lost his mind. He grabbed you by the neck and slammed your head so hard against the wall that you passed out, or so he thought, but after checking on you he realized you weren't breathing anymore.

Yoongi screamed and cried desperately, he was tempted to call an ambulance but he knew it was too late. You were gone.

From that moment on, Yoongi decided to become more elusive. He has become a shadow of his former self, he has become nothing more than a silent worshiper. He cried every day when he woke up and when he went to sleep.

Just waiting for death to come and get him and he could be reunited with you again.

Jung Hoseok

It was all an unfortunate accident. Hoseok told himself that none of this would have happened if you hadn't challenged him. If you were a good girl/boy you would still be here.

It was all your fault.

You had tried to run away from him for the second time and this time Jung would not leave you unpunished. He yelled at you and hit you hard in the face, leaving his finger prints on your cheek. But you didn't back down and say you'd never stop trying to run away from him.

And that was the last straw for him. He knew you needed to learn a lesson and you would.

And Hoseok regrets so much what he did afterwards. He threw you to the ground and squeezed your neck so hard he nearly broke it and maybe he would have if he hadn't choked you to death.

When Hoseok realized what he had done, he went into denial. He started crying and screaming your name like crazy, as if that could bring you back to life. But nothing happened and he fell into despair, feeling all hope in him disappear.

You, the sun of his life had died and he couldn't do anything to bring you back.

Jung would try his best to redeem himself for what he had inflicted on you. He would be forced to live with this constant pain and remorse for what he caused you.

His only hope is that when death overtakes him, you have already forgiven him and you can live happily together. In death, at least.

Kim Namjoon

He didn't want that. That wasn't in the plans. Your death was never planned by him, so why did it happen?

It was a flaw in his plan.

You lying before him dead was not something he wanted. It was never something he wanted.

But it was real and he didn't know what to do with himself.

This whole tragedy happened after you decided to disrespect him by going out with a friend of yours and Kim does not tolerate any form of disrespect. And you going out with another man was a big disrespect.

So when he found out where you were and who you were with, Namjoon went after you and murdered your friend in cold blood in front of you. And you collapsed. And your boyfriend just ignored it and pulled you up, trying to drag you back home.

But you didn't accept that and started hitting him violently and cursing him. Namjoon's first reaction was instinctive, he pushed you away from him. You lost your balance and fell, but unconscious to Namjoon, you landed right on top of the gun he had used to kill your friend and the gun had the trigger pulled and the bullet went straight through your heart. You died instantly.

Namjoon stood there, trying his best to remain calm, but he couldn't, he loved you so much and now you were dead. He clung to your lifeless body, crying and stroking her face.

He always planned everything from how you would fall in love with him to the day you two would die together. And he couldn't believe you were dead. He needed to fix this and he would.

Then Namjoon took the gun that had killed you and pointed it at his own head. He was going to do this, he had to. You two were meant to die together and it would come to pass.

And then he pulled the trigger. Kim Namjoon wouldn't let you die without him.

Park Jimin

When he realized what had happened, Jimin collapsed. His strength was gone and he fell to his knees while screaming and crying desperately.

It all happened because of your family. They were to blame for this tragedy.

They were to blame for your death.

If only they hadn't meddled in the two of you's relationship, you'd still be by his side, alive and happy.

How you should be.

But instead, you were lifeless, lying in your boyfriend's arms.

You two had gotten into an argument that had been caused by your parents. They didn't accept Jimin, they thought he was weird and unreliable. And you trusted your parents' judgment and that's why you decided to break up with Jimin.

And it really upset him.

Jimin went crazy, he screamed, threatened and threw himself at your feet, begging you not to leave him. But you tried to leave, you tried to leave him and he wouldn't accept it.

When you turned to go to the door, Jimin got up and threw himself at you and in a fit of rage, he started to choke you with all his might. You tried to fight but you couldn't break free. Your vision went dark and the last thing you saw was Jimin's insane look.

When Jimin regained his senses, he finally realized what he had done. Your neck was purple and you were no longer alive. And he started crying once more as he begged you for forgiveness. He didn't want that, you have to believe, he didn't want to hurt you.

But he did and Jimin couldn't live with that, so he decided to follow you into death. But not before killing the real culprits of your death and when he did, Jimin could finally follow you in peace.

Kim Taehyung

Taehyung could never imagine what could have happened. He could never imagine what he would do to you. That he would be the cause of her death.

An accident, that's what had happened. That's what he told himself, but deep down, he knew he was the real culprit.

You had died because of him. And Taehyung felt like throwing up just thinking about it.

But it was true and he should never lie to you. Even if you are just a lifeless body.

Everything happened very slowly for him, he never realized the pain he had caused you. He never noticed your pain when he killed everyone you ever loved, he never noticed yours screams asking him to stop slaughtering them one by one.

He never noticed any of that. How could? He was so focused on being the one to be loved by you that he never noticed how much he was hurting you. Even though he said he would never hurt you.

You came home alone that day, crying and sobbing after having another one of your dearest friends murdered by your boyfriend. It was an addictive cycle, it wasn't the first time Taehyung had killed someone you loved and you knew it wouldn't be the last. And he killed every single one of them for you.

This had to stop and there was only one way to make it stop. You went to the cause with a dark but necessary thought. Tears flowed uncontrollably, but you managed to muster up the courage and grab a knife from the kitchen and slit your wrists where you knew it was fatal. It was painful, but you took comfort in knowing that people would be spared if you died. It was with this thought that you took your last breath.

When Taehyung got home and found you, he broke down. He cried and clung to you. When he noticed the knife you used to kill yourself, he decided to do the same. He would meet you again.

He would rather die a thousand times than live without you.

Jeon Jungkook

He would never admit that he was to blame for her death. Even under torture, Jungkook would blame the whole world but never himself. He was too arrogant for that.

If there was really anyone to blame in this situation, it would be you. The more he thinks, everything is your fault.

If you weren't so stubborn none of this would have happened. You wouldn't be dead if you hadn't had the audacity to challenge him.

How could you be so dumb? Did you really have a death wish?

Apparently you had, because that's how you were, choking blood from your mouth while Jeon held you tight.

Chaos erupted very quickly. One minute you were standing next to Jungkook and the next you were lying lifeless in his strong arms.

He didn't remember why you were so angry, but he didn't care. It was something about him not giving you space and being so possessive. Something stupid.

And when you noticed that he wasn't listening to you, you dared to slap Jungkook across the face. A big mistake. He was livid when he felt the sting and grabbed you by the hair, throwing you hard against the floor. Your head hit so hard you were stunned.

But Jeon didn't look satisfied. He towered over you and stomped on your neck hard. He didn't want to kill you, it was never his intention, but he didn't calculate well the force he put and he broke your neck. Killing you instantly.

When Jungkok finally noticed what he had done, he staggered away. All confidence and anger vanishing and a feeling of desperation took over his body. He had done it! He had killed you. Jungkook fell to his knees beside him, sobbing his name a few times, but you didn't answer him. He felt empty and desperate. And afraid, he was so afraid of what he had done to you.

He knew he couldn't undo what he'd done, but he couldn't live with it. He had already done you a lot of harm and he couldn't leave you alone in death, so he shot himself.

He just can't leave you alone.

[pandorasword]

Chaeri as the 8th and youngest member of BTS.

CHAERI'S MASTERLIST

Chaeri's relationship with BTS

Maknae line

ꕥ Taehyung | V

If they were a song lyric:

✦ Twin flames type of love

「 A "twin flame" will always change your life. And that is exactly what happens to both of them when they met. Not immediately, but a gradual rise to total trust and respect for one another. If twin flames relationships could be summed up in one word, it would be intense.

Chaeri was able to put Taehyung back together just as Taehyung was able to do it too for Chaeri. In this process they realized to be each other's halves, platonically and not romantically. This isn't something that the other members can fully understand as they are unaware of the fragile state of mind the two kids were in during bangtans' early days.

They are always together, literally. They are likely shutting themselves in their own world and not letting anyone else in when they are hurting, or overwhelming everyone with their high spirits and complicity when they are at their best. They often wear matching clothes, attend the same parties and are mistaken for an engaged couple more times than they like. They enjoy, however, teasing those people who strongly believes the rumor about their relationship. How? By acting as if they were really a couple at one moment and denying it completely at the other.

So many armys are convinced that TAERI love each other madly, with all that pda, always mutually picking when teams are formed, sitting next to the other at every event. The hashtag #TAERI is always number one after a concert, correlated with many pictures of interactions of the two. 」

ꕥ Jimin

If they were a song lyric:

✦ Ride or die type of love

「 Chaeri and Jimin are the physical representation of the 'ride or die' concept.

A 'ride or die' relationship is when you are willing to do anything for someone you love or someone you really appreciate in your life. The person who you stand by in any problem and vice versa.

Chaeri knows that there is no such good and kind individual as Jimin in this world so she decided that her personal life mission is to defend him from anyone who tries to take advantage of his good heart. On the other hand, Jimin has always felt great love for the youngest of the group, admiring how bravely and frankly she faces every problem or difficulty, no matter how big it is. It's common knowledge that Jimin has said more than once that although the male members of BTS are older than Chaeri, each of them has a lot to learn from her.

CHAEMIN is not a particularly romantically shippable couple for the armys, but endless are the videos on social media about the two being close and adorable on and off the stage. 」

ꕥ Jungkook

If they were a song lyric:

✦ Meant to be type of love

「 Everyone knew that Jungkook and Chaeri would've get along well. Both the youngest, danger-loving, physically active, competitive and joyful. There are so many things that make them similar and so many more that make them totally different. All this leads to the effect of them filling in each other's missing parts. So, it is easy to figure out that no one was surprised when the two started spending most of their time together but, what the group members would not have expected at all was that, at some point, they would see them fall in love with each other. Every day a little more. Irremediably, with no turning back, against every rule imposed from day 0 by their managers. They fell in love without being able to control it.

When they met, despite being older, Jungkook felt reassured that he had found a friend with such a strong temperament, someone who wasn't afraid to speak their mind.. even if they had one of the head of the company in front of them. This gave him much to learn from and take guidance about, a model to build on to overcome his shyness and fear of saying the wrong words at the worst times. One memory he will always hold dear in his heart is when, not long after the debut, he admitted to her that he was afraid of how silly or inconsiderate his thoughts might be if said out loud. She told him that she would always care and consider what he had to say, so whenever something came to his mind he had to say it without thinking too much.

All of her first times were with Jungkook. Growing up in the entertainment industry means giving up so much about childhood as much as having big restrictions on almost everything you do; with him, tho, she always found a way to live her teenage years to the fullest.

They managed to keep their relationship a secret for a while, even enjoying the exciting feeling of doing something forbidden, making their outings more arousing.

Everything fell apart when someone of the staff reported Jungkook and Chaeri's situation to the managers. Even today, for the other members, it remains unknown what the managers told them during that urgently scheduled meeting. What is certain is that they both went through a long and difficult time after that day, showing themselves only as friends in the sight of the other bts members, nothing else.

CHAEKOOK is the most loved unofficial couple in the KPOP industry. Armys are firmly confident that there is something more going on between the two. Supporting their thesis is a video of Jungkook apparently in tears right behind the newly formed pair of Chaeri and Ateez's captain Hongjoong. 」

Had to repost because the old post is broken and doesn't appear in search results. I think I will still leave them on the profile for those who left a heart

۵ Pandora

[7brownsuga7]

Can you please write BTS members reaction when they and their crush go on a picnic in a flower field and she makes them a flower crown? Thank you 😊❤️🤗

Here ya go 💜

Namjoon -

He will examine it thoroughly and compliment it, pointing out all the things he likes about it. He can’t help but to blush and will have a big grin on his face. Will probably tell you all about the flowers you picked and give an in depth history behind them. He will definitely compliment your skills. And will be embarrassed to put it on but will do it because he knows it will make you happy. He’ll get you to help him make one but he won’t be able to focus as he’s so fixated on you. He’ll be shy, but happy nevertheless.

Jin -

Will probably get excited and parade around the field showing it off. Won’t stop talking about how good it is and will joke about how good it looks on him (he’s not lying). He’ll make it his right to gift you something in return.

Yoongi -

He’ll instantly get shy when you give it to him, but will try to play it off. He’ll play it off by teasing you and will surely make comments. Deep down inside he’ll be all warm and jittery and will appreciate your kind gesture.

Hobi -

Definitely will get excited and will take a picture straight away. He won’t get over it and will keep on mentioning it throughout the date. This really means a lot to him and he’ll always look back at this and smile at the memory.

Jimin -

He will hold it/wear it throughout the whole date. And will compare you to it, “it’s pretty just like you”. He won’t make a big deal about it out loud but just know he’s going insane on the inside. He will be very grateful though and will constantly thank you.

Taehyung -

Will sulk and pout because he didn’t make you one and he feels bad. He will insist on buying you something in return. He’s so happy that you made this for him and will bring it up every chance he gets. Will tease you for it and probably will tickle you. Flowers will get thrown at you!

Jungkook -

He’s so shocked because he has also made you one. Will constantly tell you that yours is better than his (you know how hard he is on himself). He will blush hard and won’t be able to hide his toothy grin. He will call you cute etc. And will definitely stay up at night thinking about you and your crown.

[mrcleanheichou]

Wolves Are (Not) Scary Chapter 13

Pairing: Werewolf!BTS X Female human reader

Genre: Fluff, smut, angst

Warnings: There’s smut in this chapter :) some brief pussy eating and doggy style (wolfie style?) also Jimin is a bit of a jerk.

Word count: 3,028

Summary: All Y/N wants to do is find her creativity and motivation but she finds 7 werewolves instead.

Author note: Everyone please get your tomatoes ready to throw and boo at me because I’m a liar and I deserve it. Remember when I said this chapter was gonna be 5k? Welp that didn’t happen. BUT this is my longest chapter. The dang smut scene tripped me up so if it seems rushed please know I threw in the towel for my own sanity and said fuck it Joonie is a 2 pump chump today.

Taglist: @dustyinkpages @thickemadame @moonlitehunter @thedarkwinterrose @momoriki @iistrangers @openup-yourmind @sinceritythatcouldntbedelivered @lovelyseokjinnie @scuzmunkie @bjoriis @maddypool31 @tfkp0p @blubearxy @stealth-liberal @potaetopic @zae007live @totallynoalien @dvoz-writes @purplelady85 @uniquelyabnormallyoriginal @blushyrawrz @skyys-universe @harmonie-writes @gamer-mask @savagemickey03

Chapter 12 //  Chapter 13 // Chapter 14

1 year ago

If you had to pick a favorite room in the spacious house your pack resides in it would be the library. Before you came along it was mainly Namjoon’s refuge away from the rest of the members. After many years together the younger wolves have learned that if Namjoon is reading to only bother him when its an emergency. Reading and gaining knowledge on many different subjects is one of life’s many pleasures for Namjoon. Getting lost in a good book lets him escape his many responsibilities even if it’s for a short while.

That all changed when you showed up. Namjoon saw you fall in love with his sacred dwelling and he let you carve your own little space within it. He reluctantly let some of his philosophy books be replaced with your beloved romance novels. With you spending a large portion of your time within the space eventually led to the three younger wolves coming in too. That lasted a week until the alpha’s patience wore thin and once again banished them from the room. It may or may not have been partly due to Jimin’s constant pestering to read the smut scenes in your novels with you. You offered to lend him your Kindle so he could read the ‘Ice planet Barbarians’ series on his own but he said it wasn’t the same without you.

In the relative darkness the only light emanating in the room is from a tall floor lamp next to the comfortable red suede sofa you’re sharing with Hoseok. Who was currently softly snoring, splayed out on his back in wolf form, paws in the air and head your lap. You ran a hand through the thick tan fur on his chest and held a thick vampire romance book in the other. You were finally getting to the ‘spicy’ scene after 500 pages of slow burn enemies to lovers when a hand on your shoulder made you jump slightly.

“Hey, it’s late lets get you to bed.”

“What time is it?” You ask stretching your arms and groaning. Time always seems to fly when you read.

“Midnight” He answered while helping you carefully maneuver out from under Hoseok. Learning from experience that the older wolf does not like being woken up and will curse out anyone indiscriminately for doing it.

Once your other mate was situated you followed Namjoon up towards your room.

The house you lived in was huge so every original member had their own bedroom. The royal pack allocates housing funds based on amount of pack members. The bigger the pack the bigger the housing fund was. They often build houses for packs before they’re even finished being formed. For as inclusive the moon goddess is, it seemed the court hasn’t upheld that value when it comes to making space for potential children. Adoption is definitely a thing in the werewolf world, and many packs that are all the same sex do still have parental desires. Unfortunately room isn’t often accounted for them. The sale of original pack houses is permitted it’s just a long process but many packs seeking extra space will jump through hoops to buy and trade housing to get what they desire. Often child free packs are willing to move or packs that decide to relocate to other cities or countries all together. It’s like the human world with more (annoying) rules.

All of that meant there was no room for you in the beginning. Instead of packing up and buying a new place that no one including you wanted to do, Jimin ended up giving up his room and voluntarily moving in with Taehyung. The pair sleep together the majority of the time anyway.

Although often the members preferred to sleep with a varying number of other members together rather than alone, but having a personal space to themselves where they can be alone is also important. Since you were human and not used to pack living they all definitely wanted you to be able to have your space as to not overwhelm you.

You always wondered how the higher ups got a hold of so much money. Yoongi said that they do lots of dealings with Governments around the world and some officials were actually werewolves. They operate behind the scenes and take steps to make sure human and werewolf relations remain civil.

The public may not know of their existence but the international elites and the chaebols of Korea know of their existence. Back in the age of royal dynasties many kings used werewolves as close body guards. Even when not shifted a werewolf is more powerful than a normal human. Enhanced hearing and sense of smell were huge advantages which made their existence beneficial and solidified the safety of the werewolf species as a whole.

Opening your covers and helping you into bed Namjoon gave you a quick kiss before turning to head out.

“Can you sleep here tonight?” you ask grabbing his wrist before he could leave, giving your best attempt at ‘puppy dog eyes’ you could muster.

He let out a fake exasperated sigh and an exaggerated eye roll before flashing a dimpled smile, “I guess.”

You let out a noise of triumph before scooting over to make room for the large man. He got comfortable wrapping himself around you from behind and relaxed his seemingly always tense muscles. After thirty minutes you could tell by his breathing that he wasn’t asleep. Knowing he was awake was keeping you awake so you deciding to do what you know could have any man sleeping afterwards.

Starting to slowly push your hips back into his you smirked when his hold on you tightened.  A few well practiced circles had resulted in his unmistakable hardness poking into your butt.

“What are you doing?” Namjoon asked in a voice that implied he knew exactly what you were doing.

“I’m helping you sleep.”

“You’re doing the exact opposite,” He teased while moving to give you room to lay on your back. He snorts as he sees you rush to pull down your pajama shorts and underwear. “Someone’s eager.”

“It’s not everyday I get to have my alpha like this.” You say as you open your legs for him to slot between them. This causes Namjoon to frown and lean down to look in your eyes and gently stroke your cheek.

“Do you feel like I neglect you?”

“No, no it’s not like that,” You stammered trying unsuccessfully to get Namjoon to back up so you could sit up. Giving up when he wouldn’t budge you sighed, “It’s just that… I know I've already been here for a while so I should be used to it by now but I’m still trying to get used to the whole pack thing.   Living with seven men with different personalities it sometimes feels like someone gets lost in the fray. I feel guilty for spending so much time with the maknaes and not enough with everyone else. When you came home and I went upstairs with Hobi I did feel bad for going with him.”

Namjoon frowns a little before moving back and grabbing a pillow to place under your hips to elevate them to his liking.

“Let me see you.” He says rubbing your outer thighs as you rush to pull down your shorts and panties. The articles of clothing were unceremoniously tossed behind him landing near your dresser. He uses his fingers to spread open your lower lips and stares at your warm inviting hole as if he wanted to eat you whole like the big bad wolf he is. “Pretty girl.”

You sigh happily as he scoots down the bed to lay on his stomach and then licks a slow swipe up your pussy ending at your clit. The feeling had your spine arching up off the bed as Namjoon’s lips create a delicious toe curling suction. “Oh shit!”

As an alpha Namjoon liked to be in control at all times, that included during sex. You found that out the first time you tried to straddle him. It’s in his nature to take that as a dominance challenge. That action resulted in one of the roughest fucking in your life. You finally found out what Ariana Grande was talking about in the ‘Side to Side’ song. You also learned that Jimin loved doing that to him because he was a little glutton for punishment.

Unfortunately alphas can be exhausting to deal with as a whole and practice a bit of toxic masculinity pushed by their inner wolves. So keeping that in mind you were actively trying to not tangle your hand in his hair and grind onto his face. You were gonna get what he gave you, the way he wanted to give it and you were going to like it.

That was the complete opposite of Yoongi who loves for you to use use him to get off. If asked you’d say the best orgasm you’d ever had was the time he had you sit on his face while Jin sucked him off. All of his needy whines and groans against your pussy while he forced your hips down in a vice like grip. In the beginning you hesitated when asked to ‘suffocate’ him with your thighs. That wasn’t something you had ever done with your human exes but you grew to love it and crave it. He was the best out of your mates at eating you out and according to Taehyung he was the best cock sucker too. Yoongi called it his ‘Tongue technology’.

Namjoon working two fingers into you and immediately finding your G spot, brought you out of your thoughts. “Focus on me. Or I’ll leave you here.” He growls lowly.

A shiver runs through you in not a wholly unpleasant way. His attempts at using his alpha voice always got on your nerves except when in bed. This is the only time you willingly submit to the werewolf.

“No, please fuck me alpha.” You whine as he removes his fingers only to add a third in an attempt to prepare you for what was to come. It’s always futile, no matter how many times you have sex with any of the pack members you always have to psych yourself up in preparation of taking their knots. Over the past few years it’s definitely gotten easier but when it comes to you they all know to try to ease it in slow unlike the animalistic way they shove their knots into each other. The human body just wasn’t built to take a toll like that, much to your annoyance.  

Namjoon gets off the foot of the bed to remove his pajama pants revealing the fact he was going commando. Giving his large leaking erection a few strokes as he waited for you to turn over onto your hands and knees. Another alpha quirk you’ve learned is his favoritism of this submissive position.

“Back up,” he commanded gesturing to the edge of the foot of the bed. “Good girl.”

Aligning himself with your entrance Namjoon pushes in his girth all the way in with a groan. Rubbing circles on the sides of your waist where he was holding onto you he stayed still giving you time to adjust. You turned your head back after a minute and nodded to him to give the okay to start moving but he didn’t.

“Move, please!” you whined desperately.

“No, I’m tired.” Namjoon says with a smirk. “If you want it you do the work.”

He lets go of you and proceeds to fold his arms at his chest waiting for your compliance. With a pout you start moving your hips starting off slow before picking up rhythm. You give one good slam back which causes the headboard of your bed to smack the wall loudly.

“It’s late, don’t wake anyone up.” Namjoon chastises with a light smack to your ass.

You roll your eyes but decide not to argue. Your obedience was rewarded as you felt your alpha lean over you with one hand on the bed and the other slipping between your thighs.

“Oh fuck!” you gasp and lose the strength to hold yourself as he expertly plays with your clit. Namjoon enjoys the way your velvety walls clamp down on him as you orgasm. He takes this opportunity to ease his knot in and spill his hot cum with a loud drawn out groan of your name.

You were both flying high on an endorphin rush, it was over quickly but you didn’t care. Namjoon stayed holding himself up trying not to crush under his weight.  He very much didn’t want to move because every movement pulled on his sensitive knot. Knowing you would be stuck like this for twenty minutes he wanted to be comfortable. Wincing, he pulls you up to awkwardly carry you back to the top of the bed.

You settled in under the blankets with him spooning you from behind. Even though you were tired you still couldn’t sleep. The feeling of his knot throbbing was distracting so you decided to ask a question you’ve been thinking for a long time.

“Hey Joonie? Can I ask you a question?”

The man just hummed a noise that you took to mean yes.

“How did you become the alpha?”

“Every last full moon of the year there’s a large festival where all of the packs in the country that have young wolves who have turned eighteen converge. It lasts the full three days of mandatory shifting. Pack members are added to each forming pack every time the festival comes around and the minute the future alpha is found for each pack they are immediately put in charge. I wasn’t the original alpha it was actually Hoseok hyung who was chosen. Since he’s older than me he was added to the pack before me.”

Your eyebrows went up, It takes a special type of werewolf to run a pack and you couldn’t envision Hobi doing that. Although the older wolf definitely kept the younger three wolves in check he was really sweet the majority of the time.

“When my pack was chosen for me after five other wolves I met Jin hyung and Yoongi hyung and him. We were making plans with our respective families when all of a sudden the moon witches made an announcement that there was to be an alpha switch. It was actually a bit of a controversy at the time. It’s rare for the moon goddess to change her mind. The witches thought it might be because of my lineage. I come from a family line with three alphas. My great grandfather, grandfather and father were all alphas of their packs.”

“Was Hobi mad about it?”

“He was definitely resentful, he rarely spoke to me the first couple months I lived in the pack house but he eventually got over it. He has since told me multiple times he is so relieved it’s not him because he feels like he wouldn’t be as patient and might have strangled the maknaes by now.”

You laugh at that, Namjoon’s breath hitched as your core squeezed him rhythmically.  Satisfied with his answer you tried again and succeeded in falling asleep. You didn’t feel when Namjoon’s knot released or when he got up and cleaned you up with his discarded shirt before settling back behind you and drifting off as well.

Present Day

“None of you can look me in the eyes and tell me you’re okay with this! You know what’s gonna happen to them!” Taehyung yells exasperatedly at the rest of the wolves who were sitting in silence in the spacious hotel room. The tension so thick all it took was this outburst to make it boil over.

“It’s what Namjoon wants so drop it.” Hoseok says lowly as he lays on one of the two king sized beds, stroking Yoongi’s fur. The older wolf was still transformed and unconscious after Yoona fixed his arm. The witch gave him a potion to stay in that state to aide in healing.

“Drop it? You expect me to drop it?! How can you be so fucking heartless?” Taehyung’s voice shakes as he’s fighting to stop from breaking into a sobbing mess. “You’re the one who could talk the most sense into him.”

Hoseok drops his gaze and turns his head away.

“Please just try!” Taehyung grabs onto the older wolf’s shoulders shaking him and finally letting the tears escape.

“Taehyung,” Jimin grabs the back of his shirt and pulls him away. “You’re thinking with your heart and not your brain. Jungkook is dangerous, it may have been an ‘accident’” he emphasizes with air quotes, “ but this has been a running theme with him. He is not a pup anymore, he’s had years to start acting like an adult and he can’t manage to do that so now we’re all suffering for it. It was only a matter of time before he fucked up enough to get unmated.”

Taehyung looked at him incredulously not believing his ears that Jimin could just say those things about their other mate. Jimin pushes him back into the wall and looking into his eyes with their foreheads almost touching.

“Get. Out. Of. My. Face.” Taehyung snarls.

“I’m right and you know it. You just can’t handle the truth. Both Jungkook and Y/N are detrimental to the health of this pack. She continuously babies him and feeds into his behavior. Our alpha knows what’s best for us, it’s about time you realize that, fall in line or get out.”

“Jimin! Knock it off.” Jin growls walking out of the bathroom. “You’re not helping.”

“You know what?” Taehyung snaps, “I’m leaving.”

Pushing away from Jimin and bumping into the smaller wolf’s shoulder he practically runs out of the room completely ignoring Jin calling out for him to wait. He knew the minute the door slammed behind him he might have made a mistake but he just couldn’t live with Namjoon’s decision. Even if it means going through the unmating process too.

[yonkimint]

Without You [Yoongi x Reader, Hobi x Reader]

25. Betrayal ✎

Jin rushes to the driver’s side of Yoongi’s car, sliding between his group mate and the metal death trap he’s about to climb into. Meeting the rapper’s glare, Jin flashes his brilliant, self-effacing smile and says, “Maybe you should let me drive.”

He holds out his hand expectantly for the keys, holding the smile until Yoongi relents. He all but slams the keys into Jin’s hands before stalking around to the passenger side and clambering inside. Jin arches his neck back, stealing a calming breath while he stares up at the glowing moon, and then slides into the driver’s seat.

“Do we actually need to go to the studio?” he asks, starting the ignition.

Yoongi lets out a scream instead of answering.

Jin nods, as if this is exactly the answer he was expecting, and backs out of his in-laws' driveway. He might as well head back to Seoul but he figures they’ll probably end up at Yoongi’s apartment rather than the studio. He still hasn’t totally pieced together what set Yoongi off but he knows it has to do with Jay provoking him about y/n.

The silence stretches between them as they get on the road but still Jin doesn’t push. He’s learned that it’s best to let Yoongi stew on things and then speak when he’s ready. He knows it’s hard for Yoongi to put his feelings into words but he finds a way eventually.

After what feels like an eternity, Yoongi sighs and drops his head into his hands. Jin keeps his hand steady on the wheel but takes a moment to look Yoongi over. His shoulders are shaking and barely audible over the whir of the air conditioning he sniffles.

Jin returns his attention to the road but reaches across the center console to pat his friend’s shoulder.

“Did you know?” Yoongi hiccups.

“Did I know what?” Jin counters.

“I know you knew about Seojun. There’s no way y/n kept her child from Irene and there’s no way Irene would keep that a secret from you but did you know he was mine?” Yoongi asks. He’s pulled his face out of his hands now and is staring pointedly at his hyung.

Jin swallows hard. So that’s what this is all about. He’s honestly more impressed that Yoongi didn’t have a more dramatic reaction. y/n and Jay survived and that’s surprising considering how scathing Yoongi can be when he wants to be. That’ll probably come after Yoongi has come down from his shock.

He nods, “I knew.”

“Hyung!” Yoongi moans, falling back in his seat, “How could you keep that a secret from me?”

“It wasn’t my secret to tell you,” Jin says. It’s a flimsy argument considering that Yoongi really did deserve to know. Everyone had had misgivings about y/n’s decision, of course, but they had respected her wishes at Yoongi’s expense.

“Why does everyone keep betraying me?” Yoongi sniffs, “You’re supposed to be my best friend, Seokjin.”

His words wound Jin. He’s right though. For Yoongi, the people that he has loved and trusted the most have all left him without hearing him out. They’ve ignored him or lied to him and now Jin is included in that list of people. He wants to be angry at y/n for making him complicit but he knows there was no clear right choice.

“I know, Yoongi, I’m sorry,” he says, “How did you find out?”

Yoongi scoffs, the sound so bitter, so pained, that Jin worries for y/n when he eventually lets it out on her. “Jay told me.”

This surprises Jin. Jay had been firmly in y/n’s corner this whole time. She might kill him for it.

“And you know, that’s understandable. It’s so obvious that he’s in love with her so it makes sense he’d try to drive a wedge between us but when I realized he was telling the truth? I feel sick, hyung,” Yoongi confesses.

“I’m surprised you didn’t rage at both of them right then,” Jin says.

Yoongi shakes his head, “In front of her parents? In front of…” — his next words come out strangled — “the baby? I wasn’t going to humiliate myself like that.”

“I guess that’s a good call. You are reacting way better than I would have if I found out the love of my life hid a child from me,” Jin says.

“Love of my life,” Yoongi scoffs again, “What a joke.”

Jin grimaces. He has no right to be disappointed about Yoongi reacting this way but a part of him had held out hope that Yoongi and y/n would find their way back to each other eventually. Even now, he still hopes they’ll find a way to heal but there’s bound to be a lot of pain first. And with Jay back in the picture, it might be too much all at once for Yoongi to move past.

“I guess a secret child does put a damper on things,” Jin tries to say lightheartedly.

Yoongi’s tone is dark, “Do you think she ever loved me?”

“She loves you right now,” Jin says but Yoongi shakes his head.

“If that were true, I would have known that I was a father two years ago.”

“Yoongi, it’s more complicated than that. Take some time to wrap your mind around things but I think you should talk things out with y/n before you go jumping to conclusions,” Jin says.

Another silence falls over them. Jin can only imagine where Yoongi’s thoughts have taken him. He has to consider the fact that he has a son now. y/n lied to him but he has to reconcile that with the fact that he absolutely still loves her. Jay is back in his life, another person that he has loved for a long time, another person that left him behind and hurt him.

He needs time and Jin will stay by him as long as he needs him.

They pull into the parking garage for Yoongi’s apartment and even though Jin is the one behind the wheel, the parking attendant knows to open the gate. All the members have open invitations to park at each other’s places. He slides into one of Yoongi’s open spots and turns off the car.

“Am I the only one who didn’t know? You know, that Seojun is my son? Did the rest of BTS know?”

“Jimin was the first to know,” Jin says, “And I only got to know because Irene knew. And Jay knew because, well, because he lived in LA and they reconnected.”

“And that’s it?” Yoongi asks.

Jin bites his lip, “Well, no. Jungkook knew too because of Jimin.”

“But not Namjoon and Tae?”

Jin shrugs, “Not until a few days ago.”

Yoongi’s shoulders slump, “But I was the last one to find out?”

Jin nods apologetically. Yoongi just sighs and pushes the passenger door open, “So everyone took y/n’s side. I guess I should be grateful to Hobi. At least he kept it real with me in the end.”

“Yoongi, that’s not fair!” Jin calls as Yoongi steps out of the car.

The rapper stoops back down to peer into the car, “You can take my car for the night. Go back home to Irene. I just need to be alone tonight, I think.”

Jin is not about to let Yoongi be alone though and he chases after him to his apartment. Yoongi doesn’t really protest. He lets Jin camp out on his couch while he stumbles around the apartment in a daze, fixated on all the spaces y/n used to take up, lost in all the memories when he should have told her how he really felt.

He imagines all the signs of her that would be here if she had stayed. A lump rises in his throat when he realizes that there would also be signs of their son too. His spare room would be a nursery now. Toys would be scattered across the place. A high chair at the dining room table. Bottles and baby clothes.

That must be what her apartment with Hobi looks like now.

A sob escapes him and Jin is instantly at his side, wrapping strong arms around him and pulling him close. “I’m so sorry, Yoongi.”

Yoongi just sobs. He’s supposed to have y/n. He’s supposed to have Seojun. But his apartment is empty, barely even a space for him to inhabit. There’s only a huge hole now where his life was supposed to be.

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