#Yoongi stories

[mister0ctopus]

blame the government

One Shot - Min Yoongi

Pairings: GovernmentWorker!Yoongi x Reader

Summary:  "suck a d!ck and choke on it!” you told that annoying Min Yoongi guy. But why are you the one on your knees now?

Ratings: 18+ ONLY!!! Minors do not interact.

Warnings: Explicit language, Mature Contents, Swearing, Oral

Au/Genre: Small town au, Smut

Word Count: 4.3K

🐙 a/n: inspired by when i was processing some papers a few days ago and everything was just pure hassle ugh…anyway, this is just smut.. umm.. im ovulating lol sorry not sorry

🐙 Masterlist / AskMe!

You’ve always known you’re a city girl at heart, despite being born and raised on a small island. Although you look forward to visiting your parents at least once a year, you’ve never seen yourself settling into the slow, quiet life of your hometown.

The island looks like a postcard come to life—pristine waterfalls, lush mountains, and white sand beaches, it’s the perfect vacation destination. Everyone knows everyone.

And while you love the sense of community that comes with it, you’re not a fan of how everyone seems to know everyone’s business.

People tend to be nosy about everyone's life. You let Jake walk you home in the morning, and by lunch, everyone thinks you’re dating. By supper, you’re pregnant.

Life in the city has been everything y ou need—a good-paying corporate job that lets you work remotely, a cozy apartment nestled among great cafes, and a small but tight-knit circle of friends.

Despite the crowds, the city offers you something the island never could: anonymity and the freedom to just exist. Here, people are too busy minding their own lives to pry into yours, and that space feels more liberating than the island's open skies, ironically.

It’s a nice place to visit, but never a place to stay.

So when your parents called one day asking you to come home and take care of their small gift shop while your dad recovered from an illness, you hesitated. First, you’d miss the coffee shops around your apartment because, let’s face it, they don’t have those on the island. Second, you had no idea how long you’d be gone, unsure of how long it would take for your dad to fully recover and get back on his feet.

But you love your parents and would do anything for them.

So, you packed your bags, hoping a month would be enough—after all, that’s all you packed for. You handed your apartment keys (duplicates) to your friends so they could check in for emergencies, then hugged them goodbye. You promised to stay in touch through video calls and regular updates, but deep down, you knew it wouldn’t be easy. Between different work schedules and the island’s crappy reception, staying connected was bound to be a challenge.

The moment you arrived on the island, you took a deep breath of fresh, crisp air. You always did this—it was one thing you genuinely missed about the place. Your mom picked you up from the airport and hugged you tightly.

In a regretful tone, she said, “I’m so glad you’re here. I’m sorry you had to come, honey. Your dad’s condition is getting worse by the day, and I just can’t keep running the shop on my own—”

“Mom, it’s fine,” you cut her off gently. “I’m glad I’m here, and I’m sorry about Dad. He’ll be okay. Everything’s going to be okay, alright?”

She had been so apologetic about the situation, knowing how much you disliked staying too long.

The first few weeks were a whirlwind. Your mom showed you the ropes, and while you’d helped out in the past—manning the cashier or receiving orders—it was an entirely different challenge to actually run the gift shop. Thankfully, Namjoon, your childhood friend, your parents’ “unofficial son", and also your co-manager, had been helping you a lot. Working with someone close to both you and your parents made everything feel a little more bearable.

Managing the shop was exhausting, but when you were told you’d need to process some paperwork at the town hall, you realized things were about to get even harder.

After a grueling one-hour drive, you arrived at the town hall, immediately noticing the long queue at the Business Licensing Office. It took a frustrating 40 minutes before your number was finally called. Approaching the front desk, you explained the reason for your visit and handed over your documents.

The staff scanned them and, after a moment, informed you that your documents were no longer valid and that you would need to restart the entire process from step one.

You told her, "This doesn’t make sense.”

She glanced at it before replying, "It’s a new rule from the mayor’s office. I’m sorry."

A beat.

You couldn’t believe this. This was ridiculous. You weren’t one to make a scene, but it wasn’t unreasonable to ask for a manager when there was a legitimate issue, right?

Before you knew it, you firmly said, “I’d like to speak to your manager. Or your head. Or whoever is in charge of this department. Right now.”

The poor girl eyes widened with anxiety. “This is the process, ma’am. I’m sorry.”

“I understand,” you said, holding your ground. “But I still need to speak to someone in charge.”

She left and went to the door behind her. After a few minutes, she got back and told you to follow her inside the room.

When you step into the room, you see a man with a dark hair behind a massive desk, his attention absorbed by a mountain of paperwork. The sound of your footsteps barely registers as he flicks his gaze up briefly, then returns to writing, his face impassive.

"Please, sit down. I'm Min Yoongi, the head of this office. How can I help you?" His tone is firm but detached, like he's got somewhere else to be, like you're an interruption he’s forced to deal with.

You take a breath, steeling yourself, and sit across from him. "I understand you have a new process in place, but this doesn’t makes sense and its making everyone’s lives difficult," you say, voice steady but the frustration you've been carrying slipping into your words.

He doesn’t even look up. "Could you elaborate on which part of the new process is making everyone’s lives difficult?" His voice is flat, uninterested, as he continues to scribble.

You clench your jaw. "Your staff told me I need to go back to step one. When was this new process implemented, and why wasn’t anyone informed sooner?”

“This new rule is from the Mayor's office,” he replies, still focused on his paperwork, his tone detached. “If you have a problem with it, you can take it upstairs.”

His words hit you like a slap in the face. "No," you snap, leaning forward. "You are the head of this office, right? Then you take it upstairs." Your voice cracks with barely contained anger.

His eyes flick to you for a split second, then back to his papers. "I’m just following orders from above."

"Just blindly following orders? Even when they’re nonsense?" You’re seething, barely keeping it together. "Do you swallow whatever they feed you without question? No backbone at all?" Words spilling out before you can stop them.

This time, you have his attention. He sets his pen down, finally looking at you. His gaze is sharp, amused, as though he’s studying you.

"I'm sorry, I didn’t catch your name," he says, his voice almost calm, like he’s trying to reset the tension in the room.

"YN," you cut him off, not in the mood for pleasantries. You’re done with the small talk. "Let’s cut to the chase."

YN," he repeats slowly, almost savoring your name. "As I mentioned earlier, this new rule originates from the Mayor's office. It has been enforced by higher authorities, and unfortunately, it's beyond our control."

"But does it make sense to you?" You almost hiss the words. You are so frustrated you feel the heat in your ears. "If it does, then I’ll walk out of here and do whatever bullshit you’re telling me, but I need to know if it makes sense to you."

His gaze doesn’t waver, but something flickers in his eyes. "It doesn’t," he admits, his voice low. "But what I think doesn’t matter. My hands are tied here. There's nothing we can do. Trust me, we tried."

"So, you know it’s nonsense, but you still follow? And you call yourself the head of this department?" You feel acid in your throat. Your words burn.

"I am," he says, his voice suddenly colder. "Until the end of the week. After that, someone else will take over. You can come back next week and maybe get a different answer."

The indifference in his voice is like a slap. You stare at him, your mind spinning. Is this a joke? The sheer incompetence in this place is maddening.

You feel the anger rise. Before you can stop yourself, the words burst out.

"You know what?" You glance at the nameplate on his table facing you. "Min Yoongi? Suck a dick!"

You stand up, your pulse racing, and storm toward the door. But before you step out, you turn back, rage flooding your chest, and you spit the final words. "And choke on it."

You don’t wait for a response. You slam the door behind you, the sound echoing down the hallway, your heart still pounding, your hands trembling with the anger.

Min Yoongi is a sensible man. Always the voice of reason, with a clear head on his shoulders. He’s able to see every side of the story and offer solid advice when it counts.

And that's exactly why he's laughing now—like a damn madman—because his staff is still standing there with her mouth hanging open after you stormed out. And here he is, laughing.

It was almost as if a whirlwind had just swept through his office. He cocked his head, still trying to wrap his mind around what had just happened. He was caught between admiration for your boldness and disbelief at your audacity.

But to be fair, he could’ve been nicer when he was talking to you. He could’ve put on a more customer service-y tone, you know? But honestly, he was just done. Done with repeating the same damn thing over and over this week.

When he was first told about the new process, he went to the mayor and laid it out—how ridiculous it was, how they needed to delay it, give people time to adjust. Just like you said.

But if there's one thing working in government taught him, it’s this: You can’t stop a system built on corruption and incompetence. You can delay it, maybe make it more palatable for people, but you can never truly change it.

And that’s what he did. He tried to delay it, but the changes were final, along with many other decisions in the town hall. That’s why he resigned, and this week is his last.

Because honestly, they can all suck a dick and choke on it.

You went home that night and told Namjoon about everything that went down. He was wide-eyed the entire time, laughing at your boldness.

He offered to take care of the paperwork for you, especially since he knew almost everyone in town. You thankfully accepted, but you'd have to manage the shop alone while he handled it.

After a stressful week, you decided to go with Namjoon to a beach party to unwind. It was a cozy little bar with soft lighting and a bonfire. The moment you stepped in, you felt your stress melt away, the sound of music, laughter, and chatter filling the air. It had been so long since you allowed yourself to just relax.

As you talked to Namjoon and his friends, you caught sight of someone across the room. Was that… The guy from the town hall? What was his name—Min Yoongi?

He was sitting at a table in the corner, surrounded by friends, his eyes locked on you with a smirk that made you want to wipe it right off his face. He was wearing an oversized short-sleeve shirt with a tropical leaf print, paired with a black undershirt and accessorized with silver necklaces and bracelets. Ok??? Why he kinda look… hot??

Nah, you shook your head. It was just that you hadn’t been with anyone in a while, plus you were ovulating. You quickly pushed the thought away.

He remained looking at you as he drank from his highball glass. You squinted your eyes at him in mockery, then rolled them.

Childish? Yeah, but you didn’t think you’d ever be friends with him. Freaking rude!

But Yoongi’s gaze didn’t leave you. He watched you talk to others, sipping on his drink. His mind went back to that moment in his office. That filthy mouth.

There’s a town fair this weekend, so you decide to close the shop and finally experience it. You’ve never had the chance before, and you're excited.

You head to the town with Namjoon and wander through the bazaar, checking out every stand. The town is alive with excitement and vibrant colors, and you can't help but feel joy.

You wore a short white sundress, feeling the warm breeze against your skin. You’d bought flowers from one of the stands, excited to give them to your dad, and as you strolled with Namjoon, ice cream in hand, you couldn’t help but feel the energy of the fair all around you.

Then, you spotted him.

Again.

It's a small town, after all.

Min Yoongi. Casual in a black tee, jeans, and a damn man bun. His hair tied up like that made you feel warmer than you should. He was strolling with his friends, laughing and flashing that gummy smile, looking effortlessly cool and youthful. But then, his eyes met yours. The smile shifted, twisting into a lopsided, cocky grin.

He gave you a once over and you shot him the same look and rolled your eyes.

He’s annoying.

He’s hot.

Yep, you are definitely ovulating.

The night came, and after giving your dad the flowers and setting aside the things you bought from the bazaar in the corner of your room, you head back to the fair with Namjoon to enjoy the festivities.

The town fair was already beautiful in the daylight, but when night fell, it transformed into something even more breathtaking. Lights twinkled like stars and the decorations danced with colors. It felt as if you’d stepped into a fairy tale.

You couldn’t help but admire the effort everyone put in to make this happen.

Namjoon had gone off to grab more drinks for you, but he still hadn’t come back. He was probably swept away or cornered somewhere—bro couldn’t help himself when given the chance to yap. Left alone in the corner, you absentmindedly sipped from your red cup, lost in the festive buzz around you.

Then, you heard a voice. “I like this look on you.”

You’d recognize that voice anywhere. That deep, almost raspy voice, slow drawl, lazily dragging out each word. Like someone who’s drunk, but somehow his words are clear.

Ugh. Min Yoongi.

So you turned, eyebrows raised. “What look?”

“Mouth shut.” He said, settling beside you, sipping his red cup, eyes scanning around.

You rolled your eyes. “What do you want?”

“Seems like your tall friend left you.”

“Mind your business.”

“I am.” His gaze lingered on you, scanning your face.

You narrowed your eyes. “For someone who didn’t have much to say last time, you sure talk a lot tonight.”

He raised an eyebrow. “For someone with a lot of filth to say, you’re pretty stingy with words tonight.”

You sigh as you face him. "You know, I kinda like that look on you, too."

He smirks, that lopsided, cocky grin spreading across his face, like he already knows what you're trying to say. "What look?"

You lean in, your voice low but dripping with mockery. "Mouth shut."

You couldn’t keep your mouth shut. You tried to cover it, but good lord, you just couldn’t. Because Min Yoongi is devastatingly good with his tongue.

After the heated back-and-forth in the open field, a quiet, simmering tension lingered between you two. Then, everything blurred. The next thing you knew, he was striding toward his car, parked far from the light, hidden in the shadows. Without a second thought, you followed him. Every step was deliberate, charged with intent.

Now, his face is buried between your thighs, your legs draped over his shoulders as you both occupy the cramped space of the backseat. You don’t know how you ended here. All you know is that your dress barely clings to you, bunched up around your stomach, leaving your chest exposed, nipples hard and sensitive from all his sucking.

Your panties dangle desperately from one foot as Yoongi devours you with all his might.

 His tongue is relentless, lapping at your folds like a man on a mission, his grip on your hips so tight you’re certain it’ll leave bruises. He’s so incredible—so fucking incredible—that your mind spins. Sure, you’ve been eaten out before, but this? This is just–

“Oh my g-god!” Your fist tangle in his dark, silky hair as you grind against his mouth, desperate for more. He chuckles, the vibration against your core sending a shiver down your spine.

“So fucking sweet,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your slick skin before flattening his tongue over your clit. The pressure makes you buck your hips and moan, your attempt to control your sound failing miserably.

“F-fuck, Yoongi—holy shit,” you gasp, as he slides his middle finger inside you, curling perfectly upward, his lips never leaving your clit as he sucks and licks with maddening precision.

He starts slow, teasing, and your legs tremble with overstimulation.

“Yeah? That feel good, huh?” he rasps, his hooded eyes locked onto yours.

You can’t form a coherent response, his name spilling from your lips between moans and profanities.

When he adds a second finger, it has your head tilting back, a loud moan escaping as he pumps into you steadily, his tongue working in tandem with his fingers. Each curl, each flick, drives you closer to the edge, and you’re completely at his mercy.

“Ohh god, fuuuck—I’mmmngh close,” you mewl, your legs trembling as your fingers tighten in his hair.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even falter, just lets out a low, satisfied laugh as he licks up the slick dripping from your center. His fingers pump into you faster now, each thrust hitting that spot, and the knot in your core coils tighter and tighter.

“Gonna come for me?” he asks, voice husky and teasing.

You nod frantically, your breath hitching, unable to force the words past your lips.

“I asked you a question,” he growls, and gave you a sharp slap to your cunt.

“Y-yes! Fuck, please!” you cry, your voice breaking. This motherfucker. But holy shit—the sting makes you gasp, and before you can process the sensation, his tongue is back on your clit, relentless and unforgiving.

And then it happens. His fingers pump faster, deeper, curling just right, and with one last flick of his tongue, you shatter. You come hard, your body arching off the seat, thighs trembling uncontrollably as your climax takes over your body.

You haven’t fully gathered your thoughts when his lips crash back onto yours, and suddenly, you’re tasting yourself on his tongue. The kiss is deep and messy and before you know it, he’s pulling you up to straddle him.

That’s when you realize—he’s still fully clothed. The contrasting sensation of his rough jeans against your bare thighs, while you’re so exposed and undone, is making you want more.

His tongue leaves your mouth to trail along your jaw, hot and wet, before settling on the sensitive spot of your neck. He sucks and licks, his hands palming your breasts, thumbs circling your nipples, and you arch into his touch. Soft moans escape you as the heat pools more and more between your legs.

Your shaky hands reach for his belt, undoing it as he bucks his hips up to help you strip him. The moment his pants are out of the way and your wet, sensitive folds brush against his hardness, you instinctively grind along his length. The low hiss that escapes him is almost feral.

“Fuck,” he groans, his voice strained. “You’re gonna make me come like this.”

His head falls back, his eyes fluttering shut as his jaw clenches. His grip tightens on your waist, guiding your movements. You can feel every inch of his hardness pressing against your soaked core, and it’s almost too much. The heat, the friction—it’s unbearable. You grind against him with ease, your slick making each movement effortless, drawing shaky breaths from his chest.

The air is thick with the sound of your panting breaths and the faint creak of the car seat beneath you. Yoongi shifts just enough to reach for something, his movements deliberate. Then, there’s a pause, followed by a low, frustrated groan.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “I ran out of condoms, babe.”

Your body hums with heat, desire drowning out all reason. The words are out before you think.

“Then I want you to fuck my throat.”

His lips twitch into a crooked smirk, that infuriating cockiness flashing across his face as he sinks back into the seat, “Yeah? Thought you’d never ask.”

Without hesitation, you slide off the him and onto the floor between his legs. The space is cramped, your knees pressing against the unforgiving surface, but none of it matters. You need him. He adjusts, settling deeper into the seat, giving you more room as he stares down at you.

“Fuck,” he groans, his voice dropping an octave, his dark eyes following your every move. “Look at you. Knew you’d look so good on your knees.”

You don’t respond. Instead, you reach for him, wrapping your fingers around his cock—thick, heavy, and already leaking. Pre-cum glistens at the tip, catching the faint glow from a distant streetlight outside the window. So big, so pretty, and you can’t help but admire it before giving it a slow, deliberate pump.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, head falling back for just a moment before his hooded gaze snaps to you again. His hand finds its way to your hair, fingers tangling through the strands—not pushing—yet.

You flick your tongue against the head, tasting the salt of him, and his hips twitch in response. Slowly, you take him into your mouth, inch by inch, letting him stretch your lips as you hollow your cheeks. A shaky curse falls from his mouth, his grip tightening slightly as you take him deeper.

“That’s it,” he hisses, voice rough and dripping with disbelief. “Knew that mouth would feel fucking perfect.”

You hum around him, sending vibrations down his length, and a strangled groan rips from his throat. His hips jerk forward instinctively, and you glance up at him through your lashes, teasing as you pull back just enough to swirl your tongue around the tip.

“Don’t—” he chokes out, jaw clenching tight. “—fucking tease me right now.”

Your smirk is fleeting, because you’re already sinking back down, taking him deeper. You relax your throat, breathing through your nose as he fills your mouth inch by inch until he hits the back. His control finally snaps.

“Goddamn it,” he grits out, his voice strained. His hips roll forward, slow at first, as his hand holds your head steady. You let him take control, let him use you the way he needs. His movements grow harder, faster, fucking into your mouth until tears prick at the corners of your eyes and spit pools at the sides of your lips.

“You like this, huh?” he growls, eyes locked on you as your nails dig into his thighs for balance. “Fucking your face, letting me use that pretty little mouth?”

The words make your core throb, heat pooling between your legs. You gagged when he thrusts deeper, pushing your head down and holding you there. Tears streak your cheeks, your throat stretching as he groans, his voice rough and unrestrained.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, gaze dark and primal. “So pretty for me. Choking around my cock like a filthy little slut.”

His words make you moan around him, sending a fresh jolt of pleasure through his body. His grip tightens, his hips stuttering as his breathing grows ragged and uneven.

“Baby—shit—I’m gonna—”

With one final thrust, he slams you down onto him, his cock pulsing as he spills into your throat. A guttural groan rips from his chest, his body trembling, shuddering through his release. You take everything he gives you, swallowing every drop as he holds you there, panting hard.

When he finally lets go, you pull back, wiping the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand. Your lips are swollen, your cheeks streaked with tears, and you look up at him with a smug little smirk.

Yoongi leans back against the seat, his chest still heaving as he catches his breath. A dark, breathless chuckle escapes him, and his fingers find their way to your face, gently wiping away your tears and fixing your messy hair lazily.

“‘Suck a dick and choke on it,’ huh?” he murmurs, that cocky grin plastered across his face.

You roll your eyes, but you let him pull you up. He helps you to your knees, his hands surprisingly gentle as he tucks himself back into his pants and you adjust your clothes. You both make a hasty effort to smooth your hair, stealing quick glances out the window to make sure no one saw.

Once you’re both settled, Yoongi leans in, a cocky smirk playing on his lips. "I’ve got condoms at home, you wanna see?” he mutters, eyes glinting with mischief.

Exhausted, you roll your eyes again and flash him a playful grin.

You check your phone, and you see three messages from Namjoon.

Joonie: Wru? I got cornered by some friends Joonie: Yo! Cant find u! Joonie: Jimin saw u go with Yoongi to his car??? Are u guys fucking???

You almost choke on your own saliva when you read the third one.

Shit. This Min Yoongi guy is definitely going to be trouble.

[badbtssmut]

You go to an illegal underground sex party downtown and meet seven guys who fuck you too good.

Contains: Riding, missionary, crying tears of pleasure, pussy DP, overstimulation, mid air fucking, wall fucking, blowjobs, mention of other people having sex, rough sex, slow sex, y/n loves sex, anal with mention of it hurting before it feels good, one sentence of it ‘hurting good’, squirting, disassociating cause it feels so good, squirting, multiple members cumming in y/n, vibrator being used on y/n

Admin note: this is so fucking long, enjoy ;)

—

Jin

“Am I your first tonight?” The man, whose name tag said ‘Jin’ asked.

“Yeah.” You nodded. “First time being in this kinda place too.” You internally scolded yourself— why did you have to tell him that?

“You are beautiful.” He commented.

You laughed softly.

He smiled.

The two of you were alone in a small room. There were some sex toys and bondage equipment on the wall, and a massage table in the middle of the room. It was dimly lit and had a soft and sensual feeling to it. You were sitting on the older man’s lap on the red couch, his hands already exploring your body. You could feel his hardness beneath you.

“I’d love to see you ride me. Do you think you can do that for me, sweetheart?” Jin asked as he started to kiss your neck.

“Yes.” You breathed out.

Moments later, the both of you were undressed. “Mm, so big!” You shuddered as you pushed down on his length, his fingers squeezed into your sides as he guided you down.

Once he was all the way in, you placed your hands on his chest for balance as you started to ride him. He let out a groan, his hands roaming up and down your body, before finally cupping your breasts. He sat up and wrapped an arm around you, kissing your chest and sucking on your nipples. You held onto his head and kept riding him.

The older man started to thrust into you, and you cried out. His pace quickened, and his other hand found its way to your clit. He rubbed your sensitive bud, and you started to lose yourself to the pleasure.

You whimpered and moaned, the sound of his hips smacking against yours echoing through the room. In the distance, blaring music was heard, and it sounded like the couple next to this room were having a go at it as well.

“I’m so lucky to be the first to pound into this pretty pussy… you feel so good around me, baby.” He grunted, slowing down his pace to savor the moment.

You couldn't form any coherent thoughts, your body was buzzing, and your skin was tingling. Your nails dug into his back, and you were sure you left marks on him.

“Come here…” He nudged you off his lap. “Go lay down for me, mm, just like that.”

You laid on your back, legs spread apart. He moved himself between them, he held onto his shaft as he entered you again, slowly and teasingly. He watched as you writhed underneath him, his hand snaking down to your clit once more.

You arched your back, the sensation was almost too much to bear. His cock filling you up and his fingers circling your sensitive nub. The man had a devilish grin on his face, enjoying the view of your body wriggling under him. He started to thrust faster, his hips pounding against yours, his length going deeper and deeper.

Jin leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, his tongue slid into your mouth, and you gladly sucked on it. His other hand was on the side of your face, keeping you in place.

It was almost suffocating, the weight of his body on yours, his tongue dominating your mouth, his shaft buried deep within you, and his fingers stimulating you.

Your moans were muffled as the man above you kissed you, his hips not slowing down.

Jin let out a muffled grunt as he spilled into you, and you felt excitement rush through your body at the idea of him filling you up.

“Your cock feels so good! Mmm, please don’t stop. You feel so good inside me, fuck!” You winced, biting down on your bottom lip as you neared your release.

The man above you gave you one more hard thrust and rubbed your clit roughly, pushing you over the edge. You came, your body quivering as he continued to move inside of you, helping you ride out your high.

He slowed his pace, his length slipping out of you. He groaned as he rubbed himself, before he came all over your belly.

Yoongi and Hoseok

“Ah! Ah!” You winced, squeezing your eyes shut. Yoongi’s pace was slow, and the way he slowly filled your pussy drove you insane. Being filled up inch by inch was an amazing feeling. Your pussy stretched, but it felt so good. When you felt something poke against your cheek, you opened your eyes and saw a hard cock in your face.

You parted your lips and took in Hoseok’s cock. You moaned, sending vibrations through his cock. He groaned and tangled his hand in your hair, holding your head as he pumped in and out of your mouth. You sucked on him, hollowing your cheeks and using your tongue to lick and tease him.

Yoongi continued his slow thrusts. You clenched around him, wanting him to go faster. Instead, he just chuckled, enjoying your whine when he pulled almost all the way out and went back in. He teased you, slowly filling you back up. Your whine was cut off by Hoseok pulling out of your mouth. He rubbed the tip along your lips and you kissed it, letting your tongue slide against the head, before he pushed it into your mouth again. Hoseok’s hand roamed to your breasts and he started kneading it and pinching the nipple. You gasped and arched your back, pushing your breast further into his hand.

Yoongi continued his pace for a little longer. You could feel yourself getting closer, your walls tightened and your moans grew louder. His pace was torturous, it wasn’t enough. Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, his hips snapped into yours, burying himself completely inside of you. Your legs trembled and you could feel your orgasm coming.

Yoongi leaned down and nipped at your ear, before whispering, "I can feel how close you are. So fucking tight. So fucking perfect. You're being such a good girl."

“Gonna cum…” You cried out, letting go and releasing. Your legs shook as pleasure coursed through your body. It was a long orgasm, the feeling lasting.

Yoongi grunted, his hands holding you tightly. He fucked into you faster and faster until his hips stilled, a warmth spread throughout you.

You both were breathing heavily, trying to catch your breath. You felt Yoongi pull out of you, and Hoseok took his place.

You giggled when Hoseok pulled you closer and picked you up, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders before you leaned in to kiss him. You gasped into the kiss as you felt him slide into you.

Hoseok moaned. You were already wet from cumming, so he was able to slide in easily. His pace was quick, desperate. His hips were slamming into yours, the sound of skin slapping filling the room. A few couples were near you, fucking each other. You didn't know them, but that just added to the experience. You loved how public sex was accepted in the club.

Yoongi's cum dripped out of you, down your legs. Your wet pussy and Hoseok’s saliva covered cock made such hot sounds. The squelching noise was loud, and you blushed, loving how lewd it was.

“Mm, fucking another man while filled with cum already, you are so dirty," Hoseok smirked, heading to the wall and pressing your back against it as he started to wall fuck you. Your back rubbed against the cool wall, and you closed your eyes, taking in all the sensations. Hoseok was a rough lover, and his thrusts were so hard and fast that your head kept banging into the wall.

“Fuck, fuck…” You whimpered, feeling how sensitive your pussy was. You had just came, but it was so good. Hoseok was making you feel amazing.

“Fuck, you take this cock like a champ.” Hoseok was pounding into you, the sound of your bodies hitting against the wall was loud. It turned you on. You knew others would hear and look over. You felt Hoseok reach one hand between your bodies, and you looked down, watching him rub your clit.

You clenched around him and felt another orgasm build up inside of you. You threw your head back and squeezed your eyes shut. Hoseok's thrusts were rough, the way his fingers moved on your clit was rough, it all felt too good. You felt so sensitive.

You cried out, your second orgasm washing over you. Your legs trembled, and if Hoseok wasn’t holding you up, you would have collapsed.

“Oh, oh!” You whimpered when you felt Hoseok continuing to fuck into you. The pleasure was becoming too much. He was going too hard. You needed a moment to recover, but it felt so good. It hurt, it was too much, but it felt so good.

“Going. To. Fill. You.” Every word that rolled off his tongue was followed by a hard thrust into you.

"Ple-ease, oh, oh!" Your eyes widened and your toes curled as he released inside of you. His cum mixing with Yoongi's. It felt warm and full. You panted, catching your breath, and let your body go limp in Hoseok's arms. He held onto you, his cock still buried inside of you, before pulling out.

Namjoon

“Yes…” Namjoon grunted, head tilted back, his tongue resting over his bottom lip as he slid his cock in and out of your ass. His fingers were in your mouth, keeping you from speaking, you sucked and licked them, moaning around them, your own fingers clutching at the bedspread, trying to stay grounded against his hard thrusts.

The muscles in your body tensed and flexed, the pain from being stretched so wide mixing with pleasure that came when he pushed all the way in, your entire body tingling as you rocked with his hips.

Your toes were curling, you tried to moan around the fingers in your mouth, he kept the pace of his thrusts steady, a hand on your hip holding you still.

This all felt so dirty, you never would’ve thought that you’d let a man fuck you like this, but it felt so good, so intense.

Your pussy wasn’t lonely, Namjoon had pushed a vibrator in it. The buzzing sent waves through you, made the experience even better.

His fingers slipped out of your mouth, you gasped for air, feeling him shift his weight slightly. He gripped both of your wrists with one hand, keeping them locked behind your back, his other hand wrapping around your neck, squeezing as he pushed in deep.

You whimpered, your hips moving on their own, pushing back into his cock. You were losing control of your body, it felt so good, your pussy was clenching and quivering.

“You love having some stranger be the first, don’t you? Taking that cock so good, I’d think this wasn’t your first time, so fucking good. Get on all fours.” He was breathing hard, voice raspy, his words sending chills down your spine.

You scrambled to your knees, letting him move you, pushing your upper body down into the mattress. His hands gripped your hips, he pulled almost all the way out and slammed his cock back in.

You screamed, it felt so good, a deep throb of pleasure, you clutched the bedspread, your back arching, a whimper leaving your lips.

He fucked you hard, grunting with each thrust, you felt every inch of him inside you, every time he hit bottom it made you shiver, your mouth hanging open as you moaned and panted.

“Harder, harder!” You begged.

You were going to cum, you were right on the edge, you needed him to make you go over.

His fingers were in your hair, he gripped it and yanked, making your body bend, he thrust deep, your body tensing up, you bit your lip.

His fingers were around your neck again, his body leaning over yours, his chest on your back, he fucked you fast, hard, making the bed bounce.

You felt his breath on your cheek, a hand cupping your breast, a thumb flicking over your nipple.

It was too much, you were moaning, body convulsing as you came. He was still fucking you, hard, you couldn’t breathe, it was so intense, too much, but so good.

He was panting and groaning, his fingers squeezed your neck, you felt his dick swell inside you and then he came.

A loud, long groan, his cock twitched and filled you up, you shivered, feeling it leak out and run down your thighs.

Your body was weak, you felt him release your hair, you slumped down onto the bed, chest heaving, a thin layer of sweat coating your body.

A stranger took your anal virginity and you loved it.

Jimin

“Mm, just like that.” Jimin cooed as he placed a hand on your head, his eyes filled with lust as he watched you take his cock deeper and deeper.

He was sitting at the edge of his bed, and you were on your knees in front of him, pleasuring him with your mouth, your hands resting on his thighs for support.

You looked up at him with his dick in your mouth, and his eyes met yours. He smirked, running his fingers through your hair and tugging on it gently. You hummed in response, and you could feel the vibration of your throat against the tip of his cock, causing him to buck his hips, making you take his entire length. You gagged a bit, and he smiled, his hand still holding your head.

You soon moved to the bed, and he wanted to watch you ride him, so he laid on his back and watched you climb on top of him, his cock throbbing with need.

He watched as you hovered over him, taking his cock and rubbing it against your clit. You moaned as you rubbed him against your most sensitive area, and he could feel you getting wetter and wetter by the second.

Finally, you couldn't take it anymore. You positioned yourself, and slowly, you sank down onto his cock, moaning loudly.

You stayed like that for a moment, enjoying the feeling of being filled. “Your cock is so hard, filling me so nicely, feels so good…” You whispered as you placed your hands on his chest, and then you started moving.

Jimin watched as you moved on top of him, the sight of your tits bouncing turning him on even more, and the noises coming out of your mouth were music to his ears. His hands gripped onto your hips, pushing you down harder as you moved.

He was so deep inside of you, and the friction from his dick rubbing against your walls was making you dizzy. It didn't help that the room was starting to fill with the smell of sex, which only made you more horny.

Soon, the two of you were fucking hard, and the sound of your skin slapping together mixed with your moans and whimpers.

“Mmm…” You whimpered, circling your hips before you started to bounce again.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” Jimin breathed out as he reached up to cup your breasts, his thumbs rubbing against your hard nipples.

Your eyes fluttered closed as his touch sent sparks throughout your body, and you started bouncing faster. You weren’t sure how long you were riding him for when he stopped you. He pushed you down onto the bed, pinning your hands on the mattress before he wrapped his fingers around yours.

His body was pressed against yours, his cock buried deep inside of you, and he began to pound into you, hitting that spot inside of you that made your toes curl. You couldn't stop moaning and writhing beneath him, and he loved watching you become undone.

The pleasure was so intense that you thought you might pass out, but then he started rubbing your clit and you knew that you wouldn’t last long.

He leaned down and started kissing your neck, his tongue gliding along your skin. You tilted your head back, exposing more of your neck, and he took the opportunity to start sucking and biting it.

“You are hitting it just right…” You moaned, and he groaned against your skin, thrusting harder.

After a few more thrusts, he could feel his climax approaching, so he released your hands and sat up, pounding into you hard, his hands holding onto your ankles to spread your legs apart further.

You watched as his chest heaved, and his abs glistened with sweat. The look in his eyes was primal, and you knew that he was about to cum.

“Fuck, the way your pussy clenches around my cock, fuck, can’t get enough of you, babe, love fucking you like this, mmm, gonna make me cum.” Jimin’s hands now moved to your sides, holding you into place as he picked up the pace.

You reached up and grabbed onto his arms, digging your nails into his skin. The sound of his voice, the feeling of him deep inside of you, and his words, all brought you closer and closer to the edge.

Suddenly, your whole body started to tremble, and you felt a surge of heat run through your veins. You came hard, and you couldn't help but moan loudly.

Your walls clamped down around his cock, and he couldn’t hold back anymore. He came deep inside of you, groaning and growling.

When the two of you came down from your high, he collapsed next to you. He pulled you close and wrapped his arms around you.

Taehyung and Jungkook

Your hunger for cock was insatiable. Five cocks had already pounded your pussy, and you thought you were satisfied, but when one good looking man named Taehyung hit on you, followed by another good looking man named Jungkook, you felt your body ask for more.

Your head was tilted back, resting on Taehyung’s shoulder as you bounced your body up and down his cock, riding him. He gripped your hips, moaning your name, his face in your neck as his thick member slid in and out of your wet pussy.

The two males weren’t done with you just yet, Jungkook and Taehyung had taken you into multiple positions, you had sucked both of their cocks, and yet here you still were. Their staminas were amazing, and you couldn’t ask for a better way to end the night.

“Do you think she can take two cocks, Kookie?” You heard Taehyung ask his friend, who was sitting back and lazily stroking his dick while he watched the two of you fuck.

You gasped and pulled your head up, looking at the both of them in shock. Two? They wanted to fuck you at the same time?!

"Can you?” Jungkook asked you, and you felt both their eyes on you.

You had never had two cocks in you before, but you were so horny, you needed them, and you had a feeling that this would be the last thing you wanted to do tonight.

“I want to try, I want both of you in me, please." You begged, and the two males chuckled, they found you adorable and hot at the same time.

"You heard her, let's go Kookie." Taehyung said, spreading your pussy with his fingers. “Is this your first time?” He asked.

“Yes…” You nodded.

He chuckled.

"Good. You deserve two big cocks for the first time." He teased, and kissed your neck.

Jungkook positioned himself in front of you, and rested his one hand on your thigh while his other held his length into place as he pushed himself into you, making you gasp.

Your hand went over your mouth, and you felt him stop, waiting for your cue. You looked over at him, nodding for him to keep going.

“O-oh…” You whimpered as your pussy was filling with two cocks instead of one. It was an odd feeling, and you closed your eyes, focusing on the pleasure you were feeling.

Jungkook leaned in and captured your lips in his, kissing you deeply as he pushed into your dripping cunt, helping your body get used to the size of his cock.

“So full, so stuffed, ah!” You whimpered, desperately trying to grasp onto anything. Fuck, you felt like your pussy was stretched to the max. Their cocks felt so amazing, you squeezed your eyes shut and gritted your teeth as you felt Jungkook push further into your pussy.

Your walls were being spread as far as they could go, and it was so damn amazing. You didn’t even realize that something like this was possible, oh fuck, they were stuffing you so nicely.

You had only gotten a taste of what it was like to have two men fill you up at the same time, and now you were addicted.

Jungkook paused when he managed to fill you with his every inch, and the two men started to kiss you against the face, switching up from your face to your lips as they allowed your pussy to get used to the large intrusion.

After a few moments, you opened your eyes and nodded, letting them know that it was okay to move.

“O-oh!” You shuddered as Taehyung started, moving in and out of you in a slow pace.

His hands were wrapped around your waist, and your body was pushed back against his, allowing him to thrust up into you while you were sat on his lap. Jungkook followed a few seconds later, when Taehyung slid out, Jungkook slid in, and one and off they followed this same rhythm.

You couldn’t even close your mouth, drool dripping down the side of your lip as they fucked you. You could feel them, oh fuck, you could feel them hitting the deepest parts of your body, and it was making your body tingle. The drool fell on your chest, a puddle collecting.

“You like that? Dirty girl?” Jungkook purred.

You couldn’t even talk, you could only answer with a moan.

"You like having two cocks in your little slutty cunt, huh?" Taehyung added, licking his lips.

Oh fuck, yes, you loved it, you couldn't explain how much you were enjoying this.

You closed your eyes and focused on the feeling, feeling their large dicks move in and out of you, making you feel full, so very full.

“Doing so well for your first time, your body was made to take two big cocks at the same time, isn’t that right baby girl? So fucking sexy and slutty for us, yeah?"

“Love two cocks in my pussy, mmm, love it so much." You whimpered, throwing your head back as they started to go faster.

They switched it up this time, now they both pounded in and out of you at the same time, fucking you hard and deep. You were shaking, gripping the sheets as they pounded away at you, fucking you hard enough to make you scream.

The bed rocked under you, the mattress creaking as you were fucked hard by the two guys.

They didn't slow down, not one bit, and your screams were so loud that people from the next room could hear, and you didn't give a single shit. You had two cocks in you and it was the best experience ever.

You were a mess, you were dripping, soaking the bed with your juices, and your body was twitching with pleasure, oh fuck.

Taehyung took a break while Jungkook pounded into you, and he leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours, kissing you passionately.

When it was time for Jungkook to take a break, Taehyung thrusted into you, and you moaned against his mouth, his tongue slipping into yours.

Tongue against tongue, two cocks against one pussy, lips against lips, moans against moans. It was all too much, but at the same time, not enough.

“What is your favorite, babygirl? Tell us how you like us to fuck you.” Taehyung whispered against your ears.

You whimpered exactly how you wanted their two cocks to fuck you, and they happily listened to your wish.

“Ah! Ah!” Tears built up in your eyes before they rolled down your cheeks, you couldn’t handle it anymore. This felt so fucking good, having your pussy abused and used like this, sandwiched between those two men as they beat your pussy up, oh the way those long thick cocks filled your pussy to the brim, the way their cocks were stretching your pussy walls out, and the way they were abusing your g spot, it was all too much.

Your moans and whimpers turned into cries and screams. You couldn't take it anymore. You had been fucked by five other men before these two, and you had already cum so many times, and the overstimulation was really hitting you now.

"Fuck her harder, Kookie, she can take it."

They were going harder than before, if that was even possible, and you were seeing stars. You had never felt this amount of pleasure before.

Your toes curled, and your eyes rolled back, your mouth wide open as your body went limp against Taehyung, the room spinning as their cocks continued pounding into you without mercy.

The men knew that you were about to orgasm, and they kept going, knowing that you could take more.

Taehyung gripped onto your breasts, kneading into them, and he and Jungkook were panting heavily. You could hear their breathless moans, and they were whispering sweet things to you.

You were a drooling, twitching, sobbing mess, and the men were loving it. They loved seeing their slutty girl getting her pussy stretched by their cocks, they loved the way your pussy clenched around them, the way it dripped all over them.

Their dirty words, their hands all over your body, their cocks in your pussy, their mouths kissing all over you… You never wanted this to end.

“Cum… cum..” You didn’t know how to talk anymore, feeling light headed and delirious as your body was overwhelmed with pleasure. You didn’t even know where you were anymore or what your name was, the world was spinning and blurry, and all you could focus on was the feeling of their cocks.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes…” It felt so close, your whole body started to shake heavily, your eyes unable to focus on anything as your toes curled, and the intense pleasure washed over you. It took over your whole body and the heat washed through every inch as you orgasmed; it was the best one you had in your whole life, it felt like heaven.

The pleasure was too intense, and you were screaming as you were hit with wave after wave of pure bliss. You came all over their cocks, squirting so much, and you could hear them moan, the sounds of their voices sending you even higher.

Their thrusts grew sloppy and slow, both enjoying how you orgasmed around their cocks, yet eager to fill you up with their cum.

"That's it baby, milk our cocks with that tight pussy, yeah, fuck." Jungkook hissed.

Your pussy was still throbbing and squeezing around them, and the two men groaned.

Taehyung's arms tightened around your waist and he growled, pushing his cock in as deep as he could and released his seed, groaning in pleasure.

Jungkook picked up the pace and he did the same, digging his fingers into your thighs as he filled you with his seed.

They kept thrusting as they came, and the feeling of their hot, sticky, cum inside of you, and their cocks twitching inside of your sensitive pussy, made you squirt again, your body trembling.

You were left gasping and panting, trying to catch your breath. Your vision was still hazy and it took you a few moments before the room stopped spinning.

You were laid down on the bed, you weren’t even sure by who, as you laid there trying to catch your breath. You could feel the bed was soaked underneath you.

Fuck, this was the best day of your life.

[eclipsethemagic]

10 days to Christmas |MYG| |M|

Summary: One day you get a random friend request from a guy you don't know, lives across the the ocean and can play the piano. But what happens when the person you have been talking to isn't the person in the pictures?

Paring: NonIdol! Yoongi x reader

Genre: Smut, Angus, fluff

SW: Dirty talk, name calling ( slut), praise kink, oral ( m receiving and f receiving ), rough sex, sloppy sex, size kink, doggy, dry humping

WC: 4,974 ( it is a long one loves)

Song of the day: winter ahead by: V & Park Hyo Shin

[m.list] [ Yoongi m.list]

Love in psychology term is very simple. It's a deep, strong feeling of affection. It can be to a person or a thing. Truth be told, you don't think the love you know adds up to that. Every relationship you been on for the past 20 years you been living wasn't like this. You never felt that strong force to be with a person, a strong force to do anything they need you to do.

You have always forced yourself to be perfect. Force yourself to be in those relationships because that's all you have ever known. That's until you met Yoongi. He was everything in a man that you liked. From the way he talked to you, to the way he looked. He was your ideal man, and truth he honest you felt that strong emotion feeling whenever you did talk to him.

Your friend, Taehyung, had his doubts though. When you first got the friend request, it was out of the blue. You just got in the house, taking off your shoes and on a face time call with Taehyung and his boyfriend Jimin. Jimin was telling you two about work when you got the notification on Instagram. Looking back at it at the time you should of known how this would of turned out, the way the message was.

MR.SLEEPALLDAY: hello :)

You let out a little snort looking at the name, before you can even type back the person sends another message.

MR.SLEEPALLDAY: i'm sorry but ik its straight forward but you are so so so pretty

You do quickly respond back ignoring Jimin's story time.

You: well first, hello to you too. second of all you aren't bad yourself.

And after a few months Yoongi and you became friends, he tried to win your heart somewhat from what you gathered after talking him for a long as you had. He made you feel complete, like you and him would be together. from the few pictures you did gather from him he was pretty, tan, had dimples, and the most beautiful eyes you have ever seen. "You sure he's real? Like not some type of catfish?" Jimin says to you one day when sits down next to you on his couch, handing you a wine glass. You chuckle and nod, giving him a small smile before bringing the cup to your lips. Jimin and his boyfriend had their doubts. I mean it wasn't every day you see someone refuse to face time. But one day Yoongi sends you a picture of him walking. which you showed Jimin, who showed Taehyung and they did end up backing down after that.

"So you can play the piano?" A yawn comes out your mouth while sitting on the phone with him one day. It was about 12 am on a Friday morning. Yoongi lets out a little hum and you hear him move around a bit. "Yeah." His voice was a little raspy as he had just gotten up earlier. "I mean- I'm not that good." His English was getting a little better from talking to you, only a few words would trip him up. "Yoongi, i bet you are amazing." He lets out a little chuckle, it makes you smile just a bit. "I can play...now? yeah I can play now for you, give me a minute." You hear him get up and disappear for a moment. After a while he comes back and you hear him move the phone and piano keys. At first you couldn't figure out the song he was playing until he started singing it softly.

"I wanna know everything there is to know, don't you dare leave me nothin' out, no I'm gonna love you completely. Oh, show me a map of your soul. Every second from now, I'm gonna love you completely." Yoongi voice was light as he sung the chorus, the piano keys playing beautifully behind his voice.  After a while he finishes the song and you start to clap. You hear his deep laugh. "Y/n it wasn't even that good, no good."

"No it was amazing! What song was it?" You reply to him. He lets out a hum for a second before answering. "Completely, it is by Jaehyun. It really reminds me of you. Everything about it."  He sighs. "I wish, you could be here for Christmas." December has always been a bit rough on you. It's supposed to be a joyful year but it always beings your mood down. Which when Yoongi brings it up? For the first time in years you don't feel sad about it, actually it gives you an idea.

So which brings you to the present. Standing outside his apartment door. You're arm raised as you go to knock on the door. Three soft knocks. Nothing. So you end up knocking again. "Who is it!?" A voice is heard behind the door, a deeper one you're used to. You don't know what the person says, but you do head the door being unlocked and open. Soft dragon brown eyes stare at you. "Who are you?" The male says in front of you. You stare at him, "um- is Yoongi here?" The tall male stares at you, which makes you wonder if he'll ever tell you. "Who's asking?"

"A friend of his.." you mumble and start looking down at your feet. The coat you had on was making your back sweat. Your cheeks heat up when the man in front of you grumbles something before yelling in his native tongue. "Namjoon-Ah why are you yelling- oh my god." Yoongi and you make eye contact. It isn't him. Matter of fact, the person that's in front of you isn't the guy in the pictures. But he has his voice, that low raspy voice that makes your stomach flip.

You don't know when the anger starts to build but the moment you stare at him again a laugh comes out of your mouth. "You got to be fucking kidding me." You could feel your stomach start to bubble and your mouth starts to water. If you throw up right now in front of these two complete strangers you might actually cry. Yoongi continues to stare at you, his mouth dry as he swallows some spit. "Y/n, can we talk? Give us a minute Joon." He looks at the younger male and pats his back twice. The guy, Namjoon hesitate for a moment, he looks at his Yoongi one more time asking him if he's sure. With a nod, he walks away and Yoongi comes out the front door and shuts it behind him.

"I knew you would look beautiful in person." He smiles softly while playing with one of his rings on his small bony fingers. His voice takes you out of your thoughts. "You lied." Yoongi smiles drops at your words. "You lied to me. And all you have to say is that I'm pretty? Like I'm supposed to smile and act like you didn't I don't know fucking catfish me!?" He flinches when you raise your voice. He looks back at the door and grabs your arm and pulls you far away from his front door. He sighs and lets go of your arm. "Idiot, you fucking idiot." He mumbles to himself in Korean and looks at you again. His hands on his thin hips.

The more you look at him, you notice that he isn't a bad looking guy. With nice looking thin pink lips, and a button looking nose, even if he used his actual pictures you still would pick him. Which brings you back to the question that you have in the back of your mind.

Why?

He doesn't even give you time to ask that either as he speaks again. "You must be tired, come on let me help you inside." As much as you want to say no, your body is screaming for some type of relief. "Fine. But you will explain everything tomorrow." He nods and grabs your suitcase and holds his front door for you to walk inside.

Yoongi's apartment was nice, it has a sweet smell of vanilla and a hint of that dark wood smell. He had pictures of his family on his wall, and a little bit of decorations here and there. As you go to take your shoes off, you hear tiny little paws tap on the wooden floor.  A brown toy poodle looks at you, it tilts its head and walks over to you. It sniffs your feet and walks away. "Well hi to you too?" You mumble. "I'm sorry that's Holly, he's a bit questionable at times." You give Yoongi a nod and he leads you to the living room.

"Hyung who was that outside- oh." Namjoon looks at you, then looks back at Yoongi. "She's the girl isn't she?" Yoongi clears his throat, you feel his hand move to your lower back and he nods before answering. "Yeah, Joon this is y/n, y/n this is Namjoon, he's one of my closest friends that's supposed to be leaving." Namjoon looks at him with his mouth open a little and points a finger to himself looking shocked. "I am?" Yoongi nods at him and smiles in a thin line and points at the door. He moves his hand from your back and leads Namjoon out of his apartment. When he shuts his door and locks it he looks back over to you. "Let's get you to bed."

When you wake up the next morning in a bed that isn't yours, everything rushes back to you. After you took a shower in Yoongi's bathroom, you two talked. And he basically told you everything you wanted to know.

"I didn't think you would like me if I used my own pictures, so I found some random guy off the internet and used his." Yoongi looks down at his hands as he speaks. "But if this makes you-want to leave and never talk to me again I understand."

And when he walks you to his room he tells you that he hopes you don't leave. As you think about it just when he said those simple words your heart starts to beat. You sit up and look around the room. Just like his living room, Yoongi room was the same, with dark black furniture and blacked out curtains. His sheets smelled just like him, that oak vanilla smell. The smell was addicting almost.

You sigh as you get out of his bed, walking to his room door you open it. A tiny Holly is standing there, with his tail wagging softly, begging you to pet him. With a smile you bend down and pet the tiny dog. Holly licks your finger tips and when you pull away he walks down the hallway, as if he's trying to lead you to his owner. When you reach the end of the hallway you see Yoongi at the stove. His back facing you and shirtless?

You could see every line of his muscles of his back on his pale skin. His PJ pants hang low on his thin hips. You'll give it to him, Yoongi was built. He didn't have a lot of muscles on his arms but he had one of those sleeper builds- which is why his nickname was grandpa because he slept all day long if you'll let him.

"Well good morning." Yoongi mumbles and hold up his mug. "Coffee?" You nod and walk over to the counter and watch him grab another cup and pour you some coffee as well. "Thank you, for listening to me yesterday." Yoongi gives you a small smile and taps his finger on his cup before lifting it to take a drink out of it. You two sit in silence for moments. It wasn't uncomfortable either, it was nice. It gave you more to look at, like the way his eyes were shaped like an almond, they were so easy to get lost in. You also noticed how long his hair was. His black hair looked so soft that you wanted to run your hair through it.

Yoongi clears his throat, "how long are you here for?" His voice brings you out of your thoughts and the thought of Yoongi knowing you were checking him out makes your cheek feel hot. "10 days, like you said you wished I would be here for Christmas and I made it happen. I mean I had to argue with Jimin and Taehyung about it. Had to also learn a few Korean words to get here. Also another thing, did your friend not know about me?"

"Namjoon? Yes and no. I like to keep what I do in private actually private." Yoongi tells you as he put his coffee cup in the sink and then points at yours. You get the hint and hand it to him. "So I have 10 days to show you the real me?" He says as you watch him wash the dishes. The question makes you tilt your head and you fold your arms. "What makes you think I want to actually continue a relationship with you?" Yoongi looks up from the sink and turns his head to look at you. "Well, 1- you haven't left yet. 2, if you give me a chance I can show you..so much more."

"Just 10 days?" You ask and he nods and holds his hand out. "Just 10 days."

You thought Yoongi was joking when he said he'll show you the real him in 10 days. On Monday he took you around Seoul, showed you all the cool places he been and wanted you to experience. He even took you to his favorite river. It had to be only 11 pm when he dragged you there. You two sit down at one of the bench that face the water.

"This view is nice." You say as you put your hands in your coat pocket. Yoongi nods and looks at you. "I come here all the time. It's so quiet, which I love. No one really comes down here unless they are on a date." He says and he speaks again. "So I'm glad I get to show you this, because this place means so much to me." He gives you a small smile and pats your knee as he gets up. "Come on, let's go back." Tuesday he doesn't take you anywhere, instead you two stay in and watch a movie.

You, Holly, and him sit on his nice gray couch, a movie you don't remember the name of is playing. But you seem so distracted by Yoongi as he laughs at a part of a scene. His laugh was also addicting. So was his smile. When he smiled his whole teeth would show giving it that gummy look. If this was Yoongi's way of making you fall in love then so be it.

It started to snow in Korea the night before, the roads were covered in pretty little fluffy snow and it fascinated you. It also fascinated Yoongi as well to see your eyes light up this morning. You let out the biggest giggle as you ran to the window. Yoongi had just got done getting dressed when he heard your giggle. He walks in the living room to see you running to the window and it was a sight to see that made his lips form into a smile. Which brings him back to the present, he takes his eyes off the television when he feels Holly jump down from the couch. He looks over at you, as you both make eye contact he smiles. "You do know I don't bite right? You come closer." He says and you laugh. "You mean you can come closer?" You end up correcting him and scooting closer to him. Your shoulders touch just a bit and it makes your body feel hot.

Yoongi doesn't say anything else through out the rest of the movie which you are grateful. Every now and again he would touch your thigh rubbing small circles. One thing about Yoongi that you noticed from being here for the past three days was that he craved physical touch. From leading you through the mall, or when you two would walk his hand would brush against yours. You did bring it up one yesterday as you two were walking. "Yoongi?" You say as you wait at the crosswalk. He lets out a hum before looking at you. "You can hold on my hand if you want." His face reacts before his mouth. His almond shaped eyes have a sort of twinkle in them when you mention it. "I rather earn it." And that's all he says as he walks across the street and it has you stuck.

And the week continues on smoothly, until Saturday when he gets an unexpected visitor. It had to he around 7 in the morning when you two hear Holly start to bark. You could hear Yoongi get up, and mumbling cuss words as he walks to his front door. You too get up, pulling down your sleep shorts you come out of his room and walk down the hall. Two voice is heard as you hit the corner. "Mom, what are you doing here?" You could hear the irritation in his voice as he sighs. You don't know what he's saying but from how he sounds you could tell he wasn't too happy. "Can't a mother not visit her son?" A woman's voice is heard as she walks in. Yoongi shuts his front door and you could hear Holly spinning in circles. "Mom I'm not saying you can't but I have never known you to come without dad, speaking of him where is he." Yoongi ask as he takes his mother coat from her and hangs it up in the closet. His mother chuckles and bends down to pick Holly. "He's out there parking the car. I love what you done with the place sweetie. You look so skinny son have you been eating?." Before Yoongi can answer her you come out from the corner and the floor boards creak bring their attention on to you.

"Sweetie why are you up?" Yoongi mumbles to you as he walks over to you. His mother watches you two and she places Holly on Yoongi's couch. "And who might this be?" Her voice brings Yoongi eyes from yours to his mother. He clears his throat and you feel his hand on the small part of your back. You take a good look at his mother, she looked just like Yoongi. From the smile, to the nose he was a splitting image of her. "Shit- mom this is y/n, the girl I told you about?" And he looks at you and smiles softly. "Y/n this is my mom." You nod and bring your hand out for her to shake it. She chuckles and pulls you into a tight hug, which takes the breath out of your lungs. For a small person she had so much strength that surprised you. "God she's beautiful in person son. So beautiful." She pulls back and her hands are on your shoulders. She gives you a smile and lets you go and looks at Yoongi. "Don't fuck this up." Yoongi lets out a little whine and says mom.

By the end of the day Yoongi and you were exhausted. The difference between Yoongi and his parents was that Mrs. Min had so much energy, different than her son. She talked and talked, and she even made you two breakfast. His dad on the other hand, he was handsome just like Yoongi. A charmer like Yoongi as well which made you know who he got his personality from. As Yoongi opens the door his parents, Mr. Min gives you a hug and he whispers something in your ear. "My son might be a handful but he loves you. So much in fact that I never seen him act this way towards any woman he's dated. so please, don't hurt him." And you won't. That very night you let Yoongi sleep with you in the same bed.

"Can I kiss you?" You hear Yoongi say randomly the following Monday. You choke on your hot chocolate and Yoongi eyes widen and you feel him pat your back. "I'm sorry that was random." He mumbles and rubs the back of neck. You don't know how to answer him, it was like he could read your mind. For the past few days you been with him all you could think about was his lips, and how they felt on yours. Would they be soft? Would they be chapped? Would they taste like tangerines? Or vanilla? Would his hands land on your cheeks to hold you or your waist? It made your head dizzy to think about it. So much so when he asked and you didn't answer he got more nervous. "I-I'm sorry for asking forget I said anything!" Before he knew it your lips land on his. Just a peck. Your lips wasn't even on there long enough and it had Yoongi melting. 

"A-Again?" He stutters out and clears his throat. His cheeks were bright pink on his pale sugar like skin. You laugh and nod before being your lips back on his. Yoongi sighs in your mouth before pulling you closer. Your chest touches his as your lips move slowly. You were right, his lips did taste like sweet tangerines on a warm sunny day.  It was so addicting. Yoongi tongue swipes your bottom lip and you open your mouth just a bit. His tongue slides against yours and you can taste the mint from his gum he had in his mouth.

Your lips were so addicting, if he could choose a way to die it'll be from your lips. Your lips molded well with his and he could taste that vanilla lipgloss you had on. His hand slides from his side to your hips, he squeezes the meaty flesh and you let out a little squeal making him laugh in the kiss. In a blink of an eye you sit on his lap, straddling him. He lets out a slow groan and pulls away from your lips and he starts kissing your jaw to your neck. You're eye flutter shut as Yoongi starts to leave big red and purple hickeys on your neck. A small gasp leaves your lips and Yoongi brings his lips back on yours roughly. You feel one of his hands leave your hip and to the back of your hair forcing you closer.

A whimper leaves the bottom of throat and your hips start to move slowly. Yoongi grunts and brings both of his hand to your ass and squeezes it softly before slapping it. "Fuck. You look so beautiful like this." You hear him say when he pulls his lips away from yours. You stare down at him, his eyes half closed as you grind down your hips. Your clit rubbing against his dick. Yoongi mutters something you don't hear before you start to kiss his neck. His shirt was in the way making you pout and looking back up at him. Yoongi laughs and sits up a bit on the couch before moving his hand from your ass to the bottom of his shirt and pulling it off.

The first thing you do is bring your hands to his chest digging your nails down his chest before you bring your lips back to his neck, bitting down on it. "All mine." You mumble under your breath. His pale skin felt hot to the touch when you being to kiss down from his neck to his chest. Yoongi watches, bitting his lip softly. Once you get on your knees you bring your hand to this crouch, you being to play with it slowly. Your eyes look at Yoongi face as he sighs and lends back, his eyes closed trying to feel the rhythm just a bit. The next thing he knows is that his sweatpants are down to his ankles and your mouth on his dick without warning.

"Shit- baby slow. I'm not going anywhere princess." But you felt like he would. Like he would disappear, melt and he would be gone from your fingers in a blink of an eye. You moan around him, bring him forward down your throat swallowing around him. You feel Yoongi's long boney fingers grip your hair, pushing you down making you choke. Yoongi thought about a lot of things, how he would die, when would he get married, would Holly have little Holly's running around, and he also thought about how your mouth would feel around his dick. Just like your kisses, your mouth was heaven. It felt like his body was being lifted, his soul being sucked out of his body and it was caused by you. His little angel. If you could die, he'll die like this. Your little lips wrapped around his cock, sucking it like a lollipop.

And you were taking it like a champ too. His thick long cock makes your jaw ache. But you didn't want to stop, you wanted to taste him, hear him moan your name. Because he was yours. No one could make him moan like you could. Spit drips down your hands as you continue to give the man above you the best blow job he's ever had. With an angle of his hips, and the hold of your hair, Yoongi moans lowly as he cums. You let out a whimper taking all of him down your throat.

The next morning you felt Yoongi's lips between your tights. His tongue flicks your clit, as his fingers work inside your sloppy center. Your hand finds his head, pushing him in between your wet cunt. Moans and whimpers leave your lips. "F-Fuck. Oh baby just like that. Please don't stop!" Yoongi groans at that, he brings your right leg on his shoulder and he continues to dig two of his fingers inside you, trying to find that sweet spot. "You taste so sweet." You hear him mumble in between your legs. You clench around his fingers as he goes harder and you see white. With one curl of his fingers you moan loudly cumming around him. Creaming around his pretty little fingers. He licks up your sweet juices before crawling back up to you and pulling you into a sloppy wet kiss.

You moan when you taste yourself on his tongue, your hands on the back of his head pulling him closer. "Open." Yoongi says when he pulls his lips away from yours, you do as he says, and he puts his two fingers that was once inside you, into your mouth. As you wrap your mouth around his fingers, sucking off your juices. "Good fucking girl." He praises you and takes his fingers out of your mouth.

Yoongi helps you on your knees, arching your back just a bit before you feel him slide in between your legs again. He groans as he rubs his tip against your wet, sticky folds. As he starts to slide in, a whimper leaves your lips, arching forward down and he starts fucking into you when he bottoms out. Each thrust takes your breath away. His thick cock hits every single spot you didn't know existed, splitting you open. "H-Hard. Please! Oh f-fuck just like that! Yoongi baby!" He starts to go harder, slapping your ass in the process. His hand pushes your head down just a bit as he goes faster. Yoongi could feel your warm walls clenching around him. "You like that don't you mamas? You like being my good little slut. Don't you baby?" You don't know what he said, but your body reacted like it knew what he said.

You two fit like a puzzle, a puzzle that craved the other one's attention. Yoongi could make you cum without even trying. It was like he knew your body better then anyone. "G-Gonna cum, can I cum?" You mumble into the pillow, a low moan leaves your mouth when you feel Yoongi roll his hips just a bit. "Go ahead baby." A few thrust later you and him cum together.

Waking up on Christmas morning was bitter sweet as Yoongi drives you to the airport. No words were spoken, and maybe it was for a good reason. The second you would open your mouth, the second you felt like you would cry. As much as the man next to you lied to you, he was everything you ever wanted.

When he helps you out the car, and with your suitcase. As you two walk to the front, you hear him mumble your name. He pulls you into a hug, a very tight one. "I'll miss you." And that makes your heart beat. "And I'll miss you too." He lets out a little chuckle before pulling away from you. "Did I do it? Did I make you mine in 10 days?" He tilts his head, giving you those dark brown eyes. You end up nodding at his question, before putting your hands on his cheeks. "Merry Christmas honey."

"And Merry Christmas to you mamas."

[trivia-yandere]

trivia-yandere/explicit-tae halloween masterlist

welcome to a spooky corny masterlist. some fics posted will also be a part of the alternate universe masterlist, as well, that fits the "spooky" aspect.

warning: will contain smut, non-con/rape, dub-con, violence, etc - warnings will be set in each fic uploaded. please read the warnings before continuing

2025

the executioner - (taehyung) - the city of magnolia is currently under attacked; terrorized by a darkness known as the executioner. (10.01)

phantasm - (hoseok) - a selected few adults in your life are refusing to tell you why you're being haunted in your dreams by an unknown demon. (10.06)

the feeling of being stared at - you and your friends are targets of a masked killer. (10.08)

agents of chaos - as an angel, what better place to go than hell to sin? (10.13)

achilles heel - (yoongi) -yoongi, an upper level demon, is sent to destroy your familiar lineage of witches. (10.17)

a tale of two sinners (jungkook) - the creator worked hard to separate you from your past life, but the devil works harder to get you back. (10.20)

2024

divine intervention - (taehyung) - you'll do anything to have your own baby one day - even to go against your morals and allow a wiccan to help you. completed 09.06 early release

autumn of terror - (seokjin) the small town of oakville is being taken over by a serial killer who goes by "the ripper" you, an out of town detective, team up with head detective of oakville, kim seokjin, to take down the ripper. completed 10.01

red pill- (hoseok/namjoon) while partying, you decide to take a mysterious pill called "hell on earth" that's said to take you to a whole different dimension; one of pure ecstasy, lust and pleasure. completed 10.07

sentient - (namjoon) you're gifted a high-technology android by an old friend who appears to know everything - even about you. completed 10.09

2023

two sentence horror story (jin) - it's been nearly five years since you last saw seokjin completed [will be released 10/01}

fertile (taehyung) during an annual camping trip with your parents, you venture off deep into the woods and find a man chained to a tree. completed {will be released 10/06}

moral dilemma (hoseok) - your morality is tested at a monthly family dinner that gets interrupted by two masked men. completed {will be released 10/08}

test your morality (jungkook) - jungkook's morality is tested when he's woken from his unconscious state to find you - his best friend - bound before him. completed {will be released 10/09}

metamorphosis (jungkook) - in which you encounter someone in the middle of the night seemingly hurt. much to your luck, you were wrong. completed {will be released 10/13) PART 2

word is bond (jimin) - in order to save your kingdom from perishing, you agree to give your body to the demon king. completed {will be released 10/17}

[mochii0park]

Don't speak; pjm (1/2)

Title: Don't speak

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Genre: angst I fluff

Pairing: doctor!reader x businessman!jimin

Warning: So far none but second part will contain smut

Word count: 13.8k

Taglist: @haru-jimiin @maruuchann @graydolan12 @fancypeacepersona @jiminismine4ever @talgiminmin @ukndtwme @purplebeebs @wobblewobble822 @jjkluver7 @polnaraffsrack @santhimariyanbu @bangtan4lifetypeshit @lanyia

(for some reason some tag work some seem to not work?)

Author's note: I am sorry for the huge delay, I am just shit with deadlines to be honest. I wrote this and realized making it a two piece would be better because of details. Anyway I hope you like :)

Songs to listen to: Wildflower (Billie Eilish), Number one girl (Rose), No sad song for my broken heart (K. Will), Love wins all (IU), My all (Mariah Carey), Hate you (Jungkook), Cindy lou who (Sabrina Carpenter)

Masterlist

The hospital at night transforms into a realm all its own; hushed yet vibrantly alive. The rhythmic beeping of monitors punctuates the air while the soft murmurs of nurses fill the dimly lit corridors. In the on-call room, you lie on the narrow bed, your body spread out but unable to find a comfortable position. Staring at the stained ceiling, sleep feels like a distant luxury, fleeting and just beyond your grasp. 

The ghost of the surgery you performed just hours earlier looms heavy in your mind—the intricate dance of sutures held taut, the charged atmosphere as you clamped a vessel, narrowly averting disaster at the last moment. You can still recall the fleeting panic when the patient’s heartbeat faltered, an alarming silence before the reassuring thrum of stabilization coursed back through the monitors. Even now, the phantom weight of the scalpel rests in your hand, the memory of urgent voices from the operating room echoing in your ears like a haunting lullaby.

You turn onto your side, then back again, as the stiff pillow offers little relief from the weight pressing against your chest. The air is a mix of antiseptic and dirty socks, while exhaustion clings to your bones with an intensity that feels overwhelming.  Despite your body's weariness, your mind races in relentless circles. In the operating room, there was a moment—a flicker of hesitation—when you thought of him, an unwelcome intrusion into your focus. 

Just as you begin to sink into sleep, your phone vibrates against the bedside table, shattering the silence of the night. Heart racing, you reach for it instinctively, glancing at the unknown number that flashes on the screen. “Dr. Y/L speaking,” you manage to say, your voice thick with fatigue yet clinging to a thread of professionalism. A pause stretches on the line, heavy with unspoken words.

 Then, a voice cuts through—deep, familiar. “It’s me, Y/N. Namjoon.”

Your fingers tighten around the phone, a lifeline in a sea of memories. Namjoon. The golden boy of The Seoul Main Hospital, renowned neurosurgeon with hands so steady they could perform miracles. You remember those late-night coffees in the residents' lounge, the way you both argued playfully over patient charts as fatigue gnawed at your resolve. You would swap tired smiles at dawn after long, demanding surgeries, a bond forged in the fires of shared exhaustion. Once, he was a friend, a confidant. But that was two years ago— a different hospital, a different time, and a version of you that feels as distant as a fading photograph.

“Namjoon?” you echo, tasting his name, trying to ground yourself. “Why are you calling me?”

"I—" His voice falters, hesitant, each word seemingly laced with nervousness. He exhales sharply; the sound weighted with the kind of gravity that instantly raises the hairs on your arms. "I didn’t know if I should call you, but I figured you needed to hear it from me." a cold dread settled in your stomach. 

"Hear what?"

There’s a pause, heavy and deliberate

Namjoon's sigh feels like it carries the weight of the world with it. You can almost visualize him, pinching the bridge of his nose in that familiar gesture, a sign that something terrible is about to be revealed. "It’s Jimin. He was in an accident tonight."

Your heart stumbles, a lead weight dropping into the pit of your chest. Jimin's name lands like a devastating blow, stirring emotions you thought were long buried. It’s been a long time since you allowed his name to pass your lips, longer since you permitted yourself to dwell on it. The world outside blurs and tips sideways. You force yourself upright, fingers digging into the fabric of your scrubs as if that might anchor you.

“A bad one,” he continues, his voice taking on a softer tone, laden with what feels too much like sympathy. “Blunt force trauma to the head. He woke up... but he doesn’t remember the last five years.”

Five years.

Your mind races, scrambling to connect the dots, counting back through the years. Five years ago, you were still at Seoul Main Hospital, lost in the chaos of residency. Five years ago, you were still signing your name as Park Y/N—still tethered to him, still his wife. Five years ago, he still loved you with a fierceness that colored every moment you shared.

Your grip on the phone intensifies to the point where your knuckles whitening from the pressure. “What do you mean he doesn’t remember?”

It takes all in you not to cringe from the simplicity of the question, after all you are a doctor yourself, a surgeon nevertheless so you knew what memory loss meant but in such situation, you let the mundane side of you speak.

“He thinks it’s 2021.” Namjoon’s voice is careful, each word measured. “In his mind, you two just got married. He doesn’t remember the divorce. Doesn’t remember you leaving. The hospital, his friends— even himself, to some extent— are all fragments he’s struggling to piece together. But there’s one thing he’s certain about.”

You already know the answer before he says it, and still your chest tightens painfully when he does.

“You.”

A sharp breath escapes you, shaky and uneven. Your free hand rises, pressing against your forehead as if that might stop the flood of memories rushing in. The late-night drives with music too loud, the stolen kisses during shifts, the whispered promises that turned brittle and broke. The fights. The silence. The emptiness. You had buried it all— stitched yourself back together with time and distance.

But now?

Now, Jimin is waiting for you. Calling your name in a hospital room you swore you’d never set foot in again, a place that feels like a ghost haunting from the past.

Namjoon speaks again, his voice softer this time, as if to cushion the weight of his words. “I know this is a lot. I wouldn’t bring it up if it wasn’t necessary. But he’s struggling, Y/N. And right now, the only person who can make sense of this for him is you.”

You shake your head, even though he can’t see you. “I don’t—” Your voice catches on the rawness in your throat. “I don’t know if I can do this, Namjoon.”

There’s a moment of silence and when he finally speaks, his tone is imbued with a gentleness that makes your chest ache all the more. “I get it. But I also know you. You’d never turn your back on someone who needs you, no matter how hard it is to face the past. And like it or not, Jimin needs you.” 

Your eyes squeeze shut, but it does nothing to stop the burning behind them.

The call ends, but the silence left behind is deafening. The weight of Namjoon’s words settles into your bones, unraveling years of carefully built distance. Pulling you back to a time and place you swore you’d never return to.

Jimin doesn’t remember.

To him, you are still his wife.

You press the heels of your palms against your forehead, willing yourself to breathe, to think. But how can you, when the past has just clawed its way back into your life without warning? You should say no. You should stay here, in this hospital where no one calls you Miss Park. Where no one looks at you and sees only the action that led to your downfall. 

But Jimin needs you. And despite everything, despite the years and the pain and the reasons you left, you don’t know how to turn your back on him.

It takes a long time to come to terms with it, long enough that dawn begins to creep into the night, washing the world in pale blue light. You sit on the edge of the bed, staring at the wall, the decision forming in the spaces between your breath.  Before you can change your mind, you grab your coat and keys, pushing the sane part of your brain as you make your way to the parking lot.

The drive to hospital is painfully familiar. Each turn, each street, each stoplight carries the ghosts of a life you abandoned. The café where you used to meet Jimin between shifts. The intersection where you once argued about something so trivial you can’t even remember it now, but you remember the way he pulled you close afterward, murmuring an apology against your temple.

With every mile, the ache grows heavier. By the time the hospital comes into view, it feels like it’s sitting in your throat, impossible to swallow. Seoul Main Hospital looms just as it always has—tall, pristine, a monument to both miracles and tragedies. You sit in the car for a moment, gripping the steering wheel, trying to steady yourself. But there’s no preparing for this, no way to brace against the flood of memories pressing in from all sides. Then, before you can convince yourself to turn around, you step out and walk through the entrance.

The scent of lavender hits you first—so achingly familiar it almost knocks the breath out of you. The same nurses at the front desk, the same hum of machines, the same too-bright fluorescent lights. Time has moved forward, but Seoul Main hasn’t changed. And neither have the people.

You don’t make it far before you nearly collide with someone rounding the corner. Strong hands catch your arms, steadying you before you can stumble, and then—

“Y/N?”

Your heart drops.

Taemin.

Of all the people to run into, it had to be him.

His dark eyes widen, surprise flickering across his face before something softer takes its place. His mouth parts as he takes you in, two years apart condensed into a single-breathless moment. He looks almost the same. Sharp lines, composed stance, but there’s weariness there now, a carefulness in the way he regards you. 

You try to speak, but the words catch in your throat. Because Taemin isn’t just an old friend. He isn’t just your former coworker.

He was there.

He was with you that night, standing there as the world came undone. He saw it all. The moment you hesitated, the precise second the weight of it all crashed down on you. The moment you lost not only the battle, but your husband. Your career. The life you had built from the ground up.

And now, standing in front of him again, it feels like no time has passed at all.

“Y/N,” Taemin says again, softer this time. “You came.”

You swallow hard, barely nodding. “I… I heard about Jimin.”

His expression shifts to sympathy. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “It’s… complicated.”

You huff out a bitter laugh. “It always is, isn’t it?”

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The hospital buzzes around you, doctors and nurses moving past, conversations blending into background noise. But between you and Taemin, the past stretches, heavy and unspoken.

Then, finally, he sighs. “Come on,” he says, tilting his head toward the elevators. “He’s been asking for you.”

And just like that, there’s no turning back.

The elevator ride to the third floor is silent, but the weight of it is deafening. Taemin stands beside you, his hands tucked into the pockets of his white coat, his gaze forward, unreadable. You don’t ask questions, not yet. You’re still trying to steady yourself, still trying to make sense of the fact that you’re here at all.

The doors slide open with a soft chime, revealing a hallway much quieter than the rest of the hospital. You immediately notice the difference, no nurses rushing between rooms, no patients wheeling IV stands across the linoleum floors. It’s eerily still. Private. Of course it is. Jimin’s parents wouldn’t allow anything less.

As Taemin leads you forward, your eyes land on the small group gathered just outside a room. Namjoon stands among them, his voice low and tense, a worry etched deeply across his brow. Beside him, Mr. and Mrs. Park cling to each other, their faces drawn and weary, shadows of concern weighing heavily on their features. Yet it’s the woman slightly apart from them that causes your breath to catch in your throat.

She’s around your age, long blond hair, dressed in a simple blouse and skirt, her hands wrung tightly in front of her. There’s an unmistakable sadness in her posture, the way her shoulders shake just slightly as Namjoon speaks. Taemin slows his steps, as if sensing the exact moment, you realize who she is.

 He exhales, rubbing the back of his neck, before saying, carefully, “That’s Rose. Jimin’s girlfriend.”

The name hits harder than it should.

Rose.

Your fingers tighten around the straps of your bang, a thousand emotions colliding all at once. It’s not jealousy—no, it’s something messier, something you can’t quite name. You’re trying to understand her, this woman who loves the same man you do, the woman who is grieving him in a similar manner you had two years ago. She has every right to be here. More than you do, even. And yet, the moment your eyes settle on the way she wipes at her tears, the way Namjoon’s expression remains firm but gentle, something uneasy knots in your chest.

“He doesn’t remember her,” Taemin says quietly, as if reading your mind. “He only remembers you.”

You don’t know what to do with that.

Before you can even process it, Namjoon looks up and sees you. His lips part slightly, relief flickering across his face. Mr. and Mrs. Park turn next, their expressions unreadable, a mix of emotions so tangled you can’t decipher them. Then Rose looks up and everything stills.

For a moment, it’s just the two of you, staring at each other across the distance, across the years neither of you shared but are now inexplicably tied to. Her eyes, still glistening with unshed tears, widen ever so slightly at the sight of you. Yet, there is no animosity in her gaze. No fury lies beneath the surface. Instead, you find an unexpected understanding, aa quiet sorrow.

She knows who you are. 

Of course she does.

And yet, none of them say anything at first. The air between you all is thick with grief, resentment, and lastly relief. His parents stand rigid and unreadable, their gazes flickering between you and the closed door. His mother’s lips are pressed together, her hands clutched in front of her as if she doesn’t know whether to reach for you or recoil. His father, ever the composed figure, only nods stiffly in acknowledgment.

It has been years since you last laid eyes on them since that fateful night when you signed the divorce papers, convinced that walking away was the antidote for both you and Jimin. You had hoped, perhaps naively, that he would find his path to happiness without you. Yet, here you stand, summoned back into a life you both loved and hated.

Finally, Namjoon sighs and glances toward the door. “We had to sedate him. When we tried to explain what happened these past five years, the divorce and all. He just wouldn’t accept it and completely lost it. We had no choice.”

You understood but you couldn’t help but feel sadness and pity for how it all went down. You prayed, as you drove to the hospital, that in a far lighter scenario he would just accept the current situation.  You steal a glance at his parents, searching for something—blame, sorrow, anger. But all you find is exhaustion, their shoulders drooping under the weight of the current events. Jimin’s mother finally speaks, her voice quiet but raw. “He keeps asking for you.”

There’s no accusation in her tone only an invitation, laced with the heartache of a mother witnessing her child suffer. Your love fell apart. Harsh words were spoken, one that tore the matrimony you once swore by. However, in the fractured corners of his mind, you are still the person he reaches for.

A sharp ache stabs at your chest, unfamiliar and unwelcome. The hallway feels smaller, the walls pressing in. The past and present fold into each other, tangled and inescapable. A long time ago you had so much to tell them, beg for their forgiveness but now it all felt empty. Stretched and overdue. 

Finally, you exhale, forcing down the turmoil clawing at your ribs. “Take me to him.”

Just as Namjoon reaches for the door handle, a soft voice cuts through the tension. “Y/N.”

You freeze.

Jimin’s mother steps forward, her face carrying years of quiet strength, but now, it’s lined sorrw. A sorrow that is not just for her son, but for you too. Her lips tremble slightly as she looks at you, and when she reaches out, her fingers barely graze your arm, hesitant, unsure if she still has the right.

“Thank you for coming,” she says, “I know this isn’t easy for you. And I know… I know how things ended between you and Jimin. But you were my daughter once. And I never stopped—” She cuts herself off, pressing her lips together, shaking her head as if willing herself not to say more.

You stand there, awash in her words, unsure how to respond. Each syllable settles in your chest like stones, weighing you down into a part of yourself that had once ached to hear such affirmation. You had lost so much more than a husband; you had lost a family, a sense of belonging. You try to speak, but nothing comes out.

And then there’s Jimin’s father.

He hasn’t said a word. Hasn’t even properly looked at you except when you arrived. But you can feel it in the way his gaze remains fixed somewhere beyond you, as if acknowledging this whole charade would be too much. But he doesn’t leave. He doesn’t dismiss you. And that, in itself, is enough to tell you that despite everything, despite the past, despite the divorce, he is grateful. Even if he will never say it.

You swallow against the lump in your throat and give Jimin’s mother a small nod before turning back to Namjoon. “Let’s go in.”

The door opens with a quiet creak, and the moment you step inside, the air shifts.

The room is dim, the soft glow of the heart monitor casting faint shadows against the white walls. It’s quiet, save for the steady rhythm of beeping machines and the slow, measured breaths of the man lying in the hospital bed.

Jimin.

For a moment, all you can do is stare.

He’s changed.

The last time you saw him, he had been drowning in anger, exhaustion present on his face, coldness in his eyes cutting you in half. Certain bitterness laced in every word he threw your way just to break you apart. He had been a man hardened by betrayal, by the weight of something that neither of you had been able to fix. His once short black hair has grown out, falling just past his ears, dyed a striking silver. The very color you had once told him would suit him. You don’t know if it’s a cruel coincidence or some distant echo of your past influence, but the sight of it makes something in your chest tighten.

He’s thinner, but not in the way that suggests neglect. His features are more refined, more mature, as if the years have shaped him into someone softer, calmer. He looks—

Healthy.

Happier.

Or at least, he had been. The thought makes your stomach twist. As you step closer, the slight movement stirs him. His brows knit together for a moment, and then, slowly, his eyelids flutter open. You barely have time to brace yourself before his gaze lands on you. And just like that, time stops. For a single breath, neither one of you move. You expect confusion. Uncertainty. Maybe even the remnants of sedation dulling his awareness but instead, what you see makes the air leave your lungs.

Love.

It’s clear, as bright as day, as if the last five years never happened. As if the last time he looked at you wasn’t with coldness and hate, but with the warmth of a man still deeply, undeniably in love with his wife. And it’s that, more than anything, makes your chest ache for the contrast is too much. The last picture of Jimin that nested itself in your mind, was of him turning his back and walking away with a lawyer hot at his tail, not even sparing you a second glance.

But now?

Now, he’s looking at you like you’re his world. Like he still belongs to you, and you to him.

Your hands tremble at your sides.

And all you can think is—

What the hell am I supposed to do now?

The moment Jimin’s gaze fully registers you, his entire face lights up, and a breathless, disbelieving laugh escapes him. His eyes sparkle as he laughs again, wet and shaky, before turning to Namjoon with something akin to relief, as if he had been drowning and was finally coming up for air.

“You see? You see, Namjoon?” His voice is hoarse, thick with tears that haven’t yet fallen. “I told you; you were crazy. You were all crazy! How could you even suggest that Y/N and I divorced? Look at her—” He turns back to you, drinking you in like a man who had been lost in the dark for years and had finally found his light. “She’s here. Standing right in front of me. Like an angel.”

The way he says it, with so much conviction, so much certainty, grows buds of sadness in your chest.  Jimin doesn’t know. 

Jimin doesn’t remember. 

You try to remind yourself when he blinks suddenly, as if something just occurred to him, his brows furrowing slightly. “But… why aren’t you wearing scrubs?” His fingers brush against the fabric of your coat, as if checking to see if his eyes are deceiving him. 

“Did you come from home? No, wait, that doesn’t make sense. You work late night shifts. Why would you? Wouldn’t you visit me soo—”

And before you can stop him, before you can pull away, he takes your hands in his, pressing them firmly between his palms as if to ground himself. The warmth of his skin sears through you, and then—

A kiss.

Soft. Reverent. Planted right on the top of your embraced hands.

You nearly recoil, but you can’t. You can’t.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” Jimin murmurs, his voice thick with emotion, his lips still lingering against your skin. “I missed you.”

The storm inside you rages, but you force yourself to smile, to swallow down the nausea creeping up your throat. Because this isn’t about you. This is about him.

He rambles, his words tumbling out one after another, unstoppable, like a dam breaking. His love is overwhelming, suffocating, because it doesn’t belong here, not now, not anymore.

And then—

“How’s your residency going?”

The question slams into you like a freight train.

Residency.

Your mind reels, trying to piece together the timeline, trying to remember who you were five years ago, who you were when Jimin still loved you, when he still saw you as his wife. Because the truth is, you’re not a resident anymore. You’re a fellow now. But if you tell him that, if you let him realize how much time has passed, how much has changed, how much more will he break? So, you lie.

Or at least, you shape the truth. “The job is… going well,” you say carefully, forcing a small smile. 

Jimin hums in agreement, nodding sleepily, his grip on your hand loosening. “Yeah… I know. You’ll get through it, though. You’re brilliant. You always were.” His eyes flutter shut for a moment before he forces them open again, his body betraying his exhaustion. “I feel a little… out of it.”

You exhale, instinctively reaching up to brush his hair back from his forehead. “That’s normal. You just had surgery. Sleep it off. You’ll feel better after some rest.”

Jimin sighs, content, as his eyes finally slip closed. And then, just as he’s teetering on the edge of unconsciousness—

“I love you.”

You stop breathing.

It takes everything in you not to yank your hand away, not to rip yourself from the room and run. You feel sick. You feel trapped. You feel wrong because Jimin isn’t saying those words to you, not really. He’s saying them to the ghost of who you were, the woman he still thinks you are.

You don’t say it back.

Instead, you wait until his breathing evens out, until the slow, steady beeping of the monitor tells you that he’s truly asleep, and then without a word you step away and leave the room.

The moment the door closes behind you, the weight of everything crashes into you all at once. The air is too thick, your chest too tight, and suddenly, you can’t breathe.

“What the hell am I doing?” The words spill out in a choked whisper before you even realize you’re speaking. You stagger back against the wall with your hands trembling and your heart hammering against your ribs like it’s trying to escape. “This… this was a mistake.”

Namjoon steps forward cautiously, his eyes laced with concern. “Y/N—”

“No.” You shake your head frantically, the panic rising and the nausea clawing its way up your throat. “What’s the point of this? What do you want from me? Am I supposed to just—just lie to him until he recovers? And then what? Watch as his entire world crumbles all over again?”

“Y/N—”

“And—and how the hell are we supposed to tell him about that night?” The memory is a gut punch, slicing through the panic with something even worse grief. “He doesn’t even know that, Namjoon. He thinks we’re still married. If he knew the truth—” Your voice catches, and you shake your head, pressing your knuckles hard against your lips to keep yourself from sobbing.

Namjoon looks like he wants to say something, but for once, he doesn’t have an answer. Because there is no answer. There is no right way to fix this.

Taemin, silent until now, finally steps in, placing a firm hand on your shoulder. “Come with us,” he says, his voice calm but unyielding. “You need to sit down.”

You let them guide you away. Your legs are unsteady beneath you while your mind still spinning, still screaming at you to leave before you get sucked in too deep. Behind you, in the hallway, Jimin’s parents remain rooted in place. Mrs. Park clutches at her husband’s sleeve, her heavy breaths of worry, while Mr. Park stares at the floor, unmoving. Rose stands just beside them, her eyes red and puffy, but fixed firmly on you.

Because they all know. They all know that the only thing holding Jimin together right now, his only anchor in this storm is you.

And if you break…

He will too.

The walk to Namjoon’s office is silent, the weight of everything pressing down on you like a boulder strapped to your chest. Each step feels heavier than the last, your mind occupied with everything that just happened. Tlook in Jimin’s eyes, the way he said I love you, the way you couldn’t even breathe in that moment. You feel sick, hollow, like a stranger in your own body, but you keep walking, following Namjoon and Taemin as if on autopilot.

Once inside, Namjoon moves with practiced ease, filling the electric kettle on his desk and preparing tea. The office smells faintly of man’s cologne and old books, the same as it always did back when you worked here. It’s strange how nothing about this place has changed, yet everything about you has.

“Here,” Namjoon says softly, pressing a warm mug into your hands. He sits on the chair opposite of you, hands rummaging through a stack of papers on the desk between you. He fishes out a smaller bundle of papers, pushing the rest aside. Your eyes catch Jimin’s name, and it doesn’t take long for you to connect the dots. He was looking for his chart. You divert your stare to the tea as he begins to explain. 

“Jimin was out drinking,” he starts, running a tired hand through his hair. “It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but he was… out of it that night. More than usual. He got behind the wheel and crashed into a pole. Luckily no one else was hurt, but he hit the steering wheel hard enough to blank out on the spot.” He exhales, shaking his head. “He needed surgery, his lungs bruised; his pelvis broken but we thought his head was fine. The CT scans didn’t show any major trauma. So, when he woke up with amnesia… it was a shock. A huge one. What puzzles me is the way the amnesia presents itself.”

Namjoon rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture of his growing confusion as he tried to sort through the complexities of Jimin's amnesia. 

“It’s strange,” he said, glancing between you and Taemin, his brow furrowed in deep thought. “In most cases I’ve dealt with amnesia presents itself in similar pattern—patients either lose all their memories or they can’t recall the details surrounding the accident, or sometimes they struggle to store new memories entirely. But Jimin... it’s like he’s stuck in this limbo where just these five years are just... faded, while others remain.”

You skim the chart from afar. “You’re saying you don’t know if he’ll ever recover his memories?”

He shook his head, frustration bubbling under the surface. “It’s not typical retrograde amnesia. It’s…” He sighs. “I was going to explain, but I forgot—cardio surgeon or not, you’ve been under my supervision before. You probably already know.”

You nod slowly. You remember those long, exhausting nights during your residency, when you rotated under Namjoon’s department, learning about neurological cases even though your heart was always set on cardiothoracic surgery. You remember studying memory loss, trauma-induced dissociation, the way the mind protects itself in moments of deep distress.

“I know,” you murmur.

For a moment, Namjoon smiles, almost nostalgic. “Right. Back then, you used to be stuck to my side like glue. And then Kwon stole you.”

You let out a soft, breathless chuckle, the memory of your old mentor pulling you away from neurosurgery flashing in your mind. But it’s fleeting, disappearing the second Taemin shifts beside you.

“We should focus on Jimin,” he reminds.

Namjoon’s expression sobers as he nods. “Right. The best path to recovery—for now—is to let him live in the past. Physically, he needs time to heal, and mentally… we must be careful. If we overwhelm him, it could do more harm than good.”

Your stomach churns. “So, we just…. lie?”

Namjoon exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know it sounds awful, but think about it, Y/N. Jimin values stability. If we tell him everything now about the divorce, about the past five years. I fear he’s going to spiral. He’s already been sedated once today because he couldn’t handle the truth. Do you really want to put him through that again?”

You don’t have an answer.

Because of course you don’t want to see Jimin suffer but this doesn’t feel right either.

Jimin has always valued honesty, even in the worst possible moments. He never liked sugarcoated words or half-truths. He would rather face the brutal reality than be protected by a lie. If he knew what the three of you were deciding right now… would he ever forgive you?

“I don’t think this is the right choice,” you say finally, voice quiet but firm. “Lying won’t get us anywhere. It’ll only hurt him more in the end.”

Taemin, who has been mostly silent, suddenly shakes his head. “I disagree.”

You turn to him, surprised. “Why?”

But he doesn’t answer. Not fully. He just looks at you, something unreadable flickering across his face, before glancing away. Namjoon watches the exchange, then sighs. “For now, let’s just focus on what we can do. We need to make sure Jimin’s body recovers first. His memories… that’s something we’ll deal with later.”

You nod, even though unease lingers in your chest. This felt like a slippery slope, one mistake could create a domino effect that might of a greater scale than you three anticipated. You thought two years could easily be filled but now you struggle with one simple question that slips out. 

“Where is he staying?”

Namjoon hesitates, and it’s Taemin who answers.

“His apartment.”

Your throat tightens. “Our apartment?”

Taemin looks away. “No. He moved out. Last year.”

You stare at him, pulse pounding. “Then—”

“He moved in with Rose.”

The words hit you like a slap. For a moment, you can’t breathe. He really moved on. You saw it a few minutes ago, or rather you saw her.  You knew that, had accepted it immediately or at least, you thought you had. But hearing it now, in this context, after the way he had looked at you just minutes ago, makes something inside of break.

Taemin shifts uncomfortably, as if realizing how much his words hurt you. “He… he was planning to sell the apartment. He told me he would. But I don’t know if he actually did.”

You barely know what to do with this information. It seems like it was Taemin’s mission for tonight to leave you speechless. 

Namjoon watches you carefully. “Y/N… can you do this?”

You don’t know but the worst part is, you don’t think you have a choice. You were a goner the moment he his lips laid a kiss on your touch starved body. You never even knew how much you’ve missed his gentle touch until you felt it, and now you were eager to prologue it. Like an addict. 

You take a deep breath and forces herself to come to terms with the situation. There is no other way. You already came, he saw you, the decision was already made, and you must see it through. As much as it twists your insides, lying to Jimin is the only way to ensure his recovery. Namjoon and Taemin stand beside you, unwavering in their support, and for a moment you feel a sliver of comfort in knowing you are not alone in this.

Together, the three of you return to Jimin’s parents. The tension still lingering in the air like an unspoken burden. Taemin brings up the apartment, cautiously testing the waters, and before anyone else can speak, Jimin’s father interjects.

“His old apartment?” Jimin's father frowned, his brow furrowed.

“Are you sure this is the right choice?” Jimin's mother asked, concern etched on her face. “What if it brings up things he isn’t ready to face?” Taemin locked eyes with her, resolute. “I promise we’ll take it slowly. We won’t push him past what he can handle. But I believe he needs this familiarity to help guide him back.”

Namjoon butts in adding a blanket of security to the sudden decision. “The familiarity of the old place could trigger something in him, jolt his memories.”

You notice Rose take a deep breath before she interjects. “About the apartment…” she said, her voice steady but soft, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. “I know Jimin hasn't sold it.” 

Jimin's mother looked at her, surprise flickering in her eyes. “He didn’t sell it? Why would he hold onto it after everything?”

Rose shrugged before continuing, her voice laced with mutual confusion. “Jimin had a change of heart at the last minute. He was supposed to tell me why that night… before the accident.”

Her words settle heavily between you all. It’s clear that even she is struggling to comprehend everything unfolding before her. She recognizes the silence as an offer to continue so she does giving more information. “He told me he gave the keys to Hoseok. I’ll ask him.”

The mention of Hoseok jolts something inside of you. The last time she saw him was at the funeral. He had stood beside you, quiet but present, offering you words of comfort that you never truly understood. You did the right thing, he had said. Your friendship had always been a strange one—good, but distant. 

“I’ll reach out to him,” you say, surprising even yourself.

Rose blinks clearly caught off guard. For a moment, there is nothing but silence between you before Rose simply nods. Namjoon feeling the tension growing with each question, suggests that Jimin’s parents and Rose head home for the night. They have been here all day, exhausted and overwhelmed. Reluctantly, they agree and begin making their way out, though you can sense their hesitation.

Once they leave, you turn to Namjoon. “I’ll talk to Hoseok in the morning. Right now, I need to go home and pack. If we’re going to do this, I need my things there.”

Taemin offers to help, but you decline, needing space to process everything alone. Namjoon, understanding, gently takes you hand, his touch warm and steady. “Thank you,” he murmurs, echoing the gratitude of Jimin’s parents.

As you step outside, ready to leave, you are startled to find Jimin’s father waiting by your car. You hesitate, expecting coldness or arrogance, but instead, he awkwardly thanks you. The words are strained but sincere. “I’ll call Chief Leeteuk tomorrow and arrange for your transfer back to Seoul Main Hospital,” he adds. “Until Jimin recovers.”

The weight of his words crashes over you. Only now do you fully grasp the scale of this situation, the immense disruption not just to your life but to the lives of so many others.

You shake your head. “I’ll figure something out. Maybe take time off work—”

“That won’t be necessary,” he cuts in. “You know this hospital inside and out. You can continue your work here.”

You want to argue, but you see the resolution in his eyes. Eventually, you sigh, nodding. “I’ll think about it.”

He hands you his business card. “Call this number when you decide.”

With that, they part ways, and you drive home with a mind drowned in thoughts.

When you reach the apartment, you pull out three large suitcases and begin to pack. There was no point in postponing the inevitable. The simple act of folding clothes and placing them into bags feels mechanical, almost numbing. At some point, you open a bottle of red wine, pouring yourself a glass to steady your nerves. Then, it dawns on you that you never informed her hospital of the sudden departure.

Grabbing your phone, you dial your best friend’s number.

“Y/N! What the hell happened? You just disappeared!”

“Something came up. A family matter. I’ll tell you more about it tomorrow.” It’s not a lie, not entirely, and explaining further requires energy you don’t have.

Wendy hums, suspicious but doesn’t press. “Well, good thing Yoongi covered for you. Took in your cases without a second thought.”

That catches you off guard. “He… did?”

It wasn’t surprising that Yoongi stepped in occasionally but for him to do on his own accord without refusal at first was strange. He seemed stand offish at times, opting to keep to himself for dealing with others was too much for him so he rarely took on other’s shifts or cases.

“Yeah. Honestly, I don’t know why you two never explored the waters.”, Wendy teases. “He’s totally your knight in shining armor.”

You sputter, face heating up. “It’s not like that.”

“Oh, please.”

You and he shared an undeniable chemistry that others noticed right from the start of your fellowship. While you both excelled in different fields, you worked exceptionally well together when cases required collaboration, often finishing each other's sentences and actions. The two of you were described as a "twisted duo," a description you felt fit Yoongi far better than it fit you. However, Wendy insisted that you were unaware of how spookily well the telepathy between you and him worked. Hence the twisted duo name.

As Wendy continues to tease, you suddenly feel overwhelmed, thoughts spiraling back to Jimin. The contrast between past and present is suffocating. You offer her a poor excuse and hurriedly end the call, gulping down the rest of the wine.

You continue packing until your hands brush against a familiar box. You catch your breath, knowing exactly what’s inside before you even open it. Old photographs stare back at you. There’s Jimin smiling on your first date, pulling you close during your trip to Rome. There’s a picture of him at Hoseok’s wedding, so drunk that you barely managed to get him into the car afterward. That memory is one of your favorites; despite his intoxicated state, he was utterly smitten with you and the way you looked in that dress. He couldn’t keep his hands to himself all night, making you feel embarrassed when an elderly couple shot you a disapproving look. But all of that faded in comparison to his love confession when you helped him into the seat and buckled him up. At first, you ignored it, thinking it was just the alcohol talking, but he repeated it over and over, even going so far as to open the window and shout to the car next to you just how much in love he was.

Memories flood you all at once, raw and unbearable. You trace the images, fingers trembling. And then—you break.

Tears spill freely, chest heaving with sobs. Now when you are face with all of mess, with the cruel irony of Jimin’s memory loss, you realize just how deep the wounds still run.

As you cry and cry until you have no tears left to shed.

-

When morning comes, you wake up and immediately spring into action. Searching through your phone, you scan for Hoseok’s number. One of many you rarely dialed after the split. When your fingers land on his name, you press the call button, heart pounding as you wait. A few seconds later, a familiar voice answers, your name spoken in disbelief.

You greet him, albeit awkwardly. Two years have passed since you last spoke but there’s no point in skirting around the issue. “Have you heard about Jimin?” you ask.

Hoseok sighs. “I heard about the accident. Last time I checked with his parents, he was still in surgery. I wanted to call again, but…” he trails off before explaining that his twins have been sick, keeping him and his wife occupied. “I was planning to check in this morning.”

You pause at the mention of his children. Memories of Hoseok and his wife’s struggle to become parents resurface, and for a moment you forget why you even called. Regaining your focus, you congratulate him before quickly summarizing the situation.

Hoseok listens in silence before finally speaking. “And what’s the plan?”

You hesitate but tell him the truth about making Jimin live in the past until he fully recovers. To your surprise, Hoseok much like Taemin, agrees with the idea of you taking care of Jimin.

“You’re the only one who can do this,” he says simply. “I’ll leave the key at the front desk at hospital after I visit Jimin.”

You thank him, and the call ends. With a deep breath, you load your suitcases into the trunk of your car and then dial the number Jimin’s father gave you. He picks up in mere seconds.

“I’ll take the transfer,” you tell him, knowing there’s no point in resisting. Working at another hospital wouldn’t make sense under these circumstances.

His father sounds relieved. “I’ll handle all the paperwork and reach out to your chief.”

After thanking him, you drive to your hospital, needing to wrap up loose ends. As you pull up to the entrance, you spot Yoongi outside, cigarette in hand. He smirks at you and wordlessly offers a cigarette despite knowing you don’t smoke. It was a going on joke between you two. A mockery of your statement that “The fault in our stars” wasn’t as corny as Yoongi describes it. After that he never lets you live down the quote about the cigarette. 

You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile. Yoongi still doesn’t ask why you weren’t there last night, instead giving you space to explain on your own terms. And so, taking a deep breath, you do. You tell him about Jimin’s accident, the amnesia, and the transfer. You half expect him to be upset, but he only nods in understanding.

Your relationship with Yoongi has been… complicated. It started a year ago, the result of one too many drinks after celebrating a successful surgery. Since then, you’ve kept things casual, just two people filling each other’s lonely nights. There were no expectations, no strings. However, when he agrees with Taemin and Namjoon, supporting this decision, you feel an unexpected pang of something you can’t quite place.

As you both step inside, Yoongi teases, “Maybe this is exactly what you need.”

You frown, trying to decipher his words but there’s no time to dwell. Almost immediately, nurse Layla rush toward you, handing you charts. Your mentee, San trails behind, listing off patients and conditions until you stop him.

“There’s been a change of plans,” you say, glancing at him. “I’m being transferred to Seoul Main for a while.”

San’s face falls. “But…. but I want to keep learning under you.”

You sigh, touched but resolute. “I’ll be back.”

He doesn’t seem convinced, but there’s nothing more you can do. Handing him the charts, you instruct him to wait for Dr. Schuber’s call before heading toward the chief’s office. When you step into his office, Leeteuk’s on the phone, his usual stern features softened with amusement. His laughter echoes lightly before his tone shifts into something more serious. "I understand," he says into the receiver. "I’ll help as much as I can." His eyes lift to yours as he gestures for you to take a seat. You settle in waiting for him to finish.

When he finally hangs up, he leans back in his chair, eyes filled with something akin to sympathy. "I spoke with Mr. Park," he begins, "I heard what happened. I’m truly sorry about Jimin." He doesn’t linger on the subject, respecting the weight of it, and instead moves on, pulling out a piece of paper and scribbling something down. "The official reason for your transfer is the lack of fellows at Seoul Main. They’re understaffed, while here we have three people under each mentor. It makes sense."

You exhale, nodding. "Thank you, Chief. I won’t let you down. I’ll do my best at Seoul Main."

Leeteuk’s lips curl into a proud smile. "I expect nothing less."

A warm sensation spreads in your chest as you leave his office. The bittersweet feeling of leaving, of change, settles over you.

You make your way to the surgeons’ rest lounge, where you spot Wendy sprawled on one of the beds, her scrubs wrinkled from exhaustion as she focuses on a post-op chart. "General surgery is a pain in the ass," she groans the moment she spots you. "Should’ve been a dermatologist."

You chuckle, taking a seat beside her. "Rough night?"

"Try night from hell. Some teenager came in with severe abdominal pain. His parents were a nightmare, demanding every test possible. Turns out, the kid had something shoved up his ass but was too ashamed to admit it. Can you believe that?" She rubs her temple in frustration. "Yoongi tried to warn him that after surgery his parents would know – I mean who wouldn’t notice their child can’t sit on their ass – but the kid begged us to come up with a cover story."

You wince in secondhand embarrassment. "And this is exactly why I chose cardio."

Wendy snorts. "Please, like you don’t have weird cases. Didn’t you start in neuro before switching?"

You shrug. "At least no one’s shoving things into their brain or heart."

Wendy grins. "Tell that to the kid who inhaled a whole ass ball and had to have it surgically removed from his nasal cavity."

You shake your head with a laugh. "Still better than a sex toy in their ass." You pause, a smirk tugging at your lips.

“Not gonna lie, trauma surgeons are saints. I could never stand there, get a CT done and see an object, clearly intended for pleasure, inserted where it shouldn’t be. And keep a straight face.”

You wanted to explain to Wendy that unlike other surgeons, any topic related to sex only made her laugh her ass off – pun fully intended. If you had to list any flaw of hers on the resume, that would be the top one, laughing during awkward moments. You could start listing of all the times that go her in trouble but then you’d be staying here until the next year.

Then, shifting gears, you exhale and tell her about your transfer, detailing everything that happened last night. Much like with Yoongi, you recount how Namjoon called, the accident, and then the part that makes you hesitate, Jimin has a girlfriend. 

“Y/N,” Wendy said, leaning in closer. “It’s understandable but you know it’s been two years, right? Life keeps going, even when we’re not ready for it. It’s only natural that he would have moved on.”

 “Yeah, I get that,” you replied, voice thick with frustration. 

Wendy studies you, a thoughtful expression on her face. “And what about you, Y/N? You’ve been hanging out with Yoongi a lot. I know you I turn a blind eye often, but you’re sleeping together. ” 

You roll your eyes knowing well enough how the situation between you two was vastly different. For starters no labels were used and heck you didn’t even know where Yoongi lived, most of the time you hung out at your apartment. “It’s not like that with Yoongi. We’ve just found comfort in each other’s company, nothing more.”  

 “Come on, don’t tell me knowing his dick size and meeting his brother is just keeping each other company” Wendy teased, attempting to lighten the mood. 

Okay so you knew the ins and outs of Doctor Yoongi, and perhaps you had the chance to meet his brother but, in your defense, it was a total coincidence. His brother had a mild heart attack and Yoongi ever so praising of your skills directed him to you so in conclusion you knew his brother as Mr. Min, your patient not as Yoongi’s older brother Yeon. 

“It’s just messy. Here I am, dealing with Jimin’s memories and feelings, and I can’t just ignore that. It feels wrong.”

 “Life is messy, sweetie,” Wendy said, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “But you’re strong enough to figure it out. You just need time.”

 “I know I need time,” you sigh, staring down at the bed. “I’m just sorry for leaving my shift. I didn’t mean to abandon you.”

Wendy shrugged, a playful twinkle in her eye. “Please, don’t worry about it. Yoongi and I have your back. Trust me, we covered for you. Just take things easy, okay? You have enough on your plate without stressing about work.” 

“Thanks, Wendy,” you said, a small smile breaking through your worry. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

Just as you were about to yap a bit more about the situation your phone buzzes. Namjoon’s name flashes on the screen. Jimin is waking up. You should be here. A wave of nerves rolls through you. You quickly type out a response, telling him you’re on your way.

Wendy watches you carefully. "So, are we postponing girls’ night?"

You nod. "Until this whole mess settles."

She smirks. "Figures. Just promise me you won’t take any shit from anyone at Seoul Main. You know how male-dominated the field surgery is."

You chuckle. "I was expecting a speech about Jimin."

Wendy shrugs. "Honestly I feel like my emotional capacity is reaching its limits. That little sucker used most of it and you got like 20%. Anyway, don’t forget about us while you’re there."

A lump forms in your throat at the thought of leaving again, of facing Jimin again. Wendy nudges you toward the door. "Go. I need sleep before I start hallucinating."

As you were about to leave the room you heart Wendy half-whisper. “If you see any hot dudes, be sure to send me their pictures.”

You chuckle, steeling yourself before heading out. 

When you arrive, Namjoon is waiting at the front desk standing beside a man you don’t recognize. As you approach, Namjoon greets you with a small smile. "Y/N, this is Dr. Kyungsoo, neurosurgeon. I asked him to consult on Jimin’s case."

Kyungsoo stands by your side, noticeably a head shorter than Namjoon. His short black hair frames his face neatly, and his plump lips give him a slightly prominent and inviting look. His big doe-like brown eyes seem to take in everything with a serious intensity, giving him a contemplative aura. However, as he greets you, a big smile breaks across his face, instantly softening his demeanor and making him appear much younger than the serious expression that lingered just moments before. 

You shake hands with him before Namjoon hands you a pager and a key card. "This will give you access to the third floor, where Jimin is, as well as the surgeons’ lounges. Only a handful of nurses know about Jimin’s condition." He hesitates for a second. "You’ll be happy to know that Jisoo is one of them."

A strange feeling twists in your gut. It reminds you too much of seeing Taemin again, Jisoo had been there that night. You school your features and nod, absorbing the information. Namjoon starts explaining the layout of the hospital, but you cut him off with a teasing grin. "I left two years ago, not twelve."

He chuckles. "Feels like twelve."

The three of you step into the elevator. As it ascends, Kyungsoo and Namjoon discuss the possible causes of Jimin’s amnesia. You listen but focus on steadying your nerves. When the doors open, a rush of déjà vu washes over you. Jimin’s parents are there, his father on the phone, his mother sitting beside Rose, their hands clasped tightly.

You greet them, but your gaze barely lingers on Rose. There’s an unspoken tension between you, a mutual uncertainty on how to act around each other. Namjoon introduces Kyungsoo to Jimin’s parents, giving you the perfect excuse to slip past them and into the room.

Jimin is standing by the window, watching the sky shift outside, the colors melding like the emotions swirling in his heart. There’s no television, no phone. Namjoon thought too much information at once might overwhelm him, but Jimin has one focus: you. When he turns and sees you, his face illuminates with an almost otherworldly smile, as if your presence alone brings warmth to a cold room. His eyes, usually bright with mischief, are now filled with deep adoration, crinkling at the edges as he stretches his arms out, eager to embrace you. 

Your heart clenches, a mix of longing and fear tightening within your chest. You step forward, surrendering to his pull into a hug that feels like home. He buries his face in your neck, inhaling deeply, a low sigh escaping his lips. "I could never get tired of your scent," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. 

You freeze for just a second.  If he notices your stillness, he doesn’t say anything; instead, he tightens his hold on you, as if afraid you might slip away. 

His breath mingles with yours, creating an intimate rhythm that seems to soothe the chaos within. "I was scared when I woke up and you weren’t here," he confesses, his voice trembling, vulnerable. 

You silently wish you could promise him everything would be okay. "It felt like my world was falling apart when Namjoon told me it’s 2026, not 2021. That we’re—" his voice breaks, fragile as his eyes shimmer, "divorced. That you left Seoul Main Hospital."

The words pierce through the vulnerability of the moment, leaving you breathless. Warm tears soak into your skin as Jimin pulls back slightly, his puffy red eyes searching yours with an intensity that makes you feel as if he is looking straight into your soul. 

"Y/N, I—I don’t know how to do this without you," he says, each word laced with desperation and love that binds your heart in a vice. His weakness shatters something deep within you, the weight of it heavy and consuming. Logic tells you that the truth would be kinder in the long run, but looking into his tear-streaked face, filled with fear and longing, you realize in that moment you can’t tell him. Not yet. The love reflected in his gaze is a tether that keeps you from breaking apart entirely, and for now, you choose to hold onto the fragile warmth of this bittersweet reunion.

You and Jimin don't notice between your emotional exchange that the doors have opened and that Jimin's parents and Rose have entered the room, accompanied by Namjoon. The soft click of the door closing barely registers in your mind, too caught up in the warmth of Jimin’s embrace; in the way his body fits against yours like a puzzle piece that was never meant to be separated. It isn't until Namjoon clears his throat, a deliberate interruption, that your awareness sharpens. 

Your gaze flickers to Rose, who stands frozen near the door. Her expression is an unreadable mix of hurt and anger. You see the way she blinks rapidly, as if trying to hold back tears that threaten to spill. Guilt twists like a knife in your stomach. You shift, instinctively trying to create space between yourself and Jimin, but his fingers tighten around yours. The weight of his touch is grounding, but in this moment, it feels suffocating.

Jimin frowns at your movement. "Where are you going?" he asks, his voice laced with confusion. You hesitate, casting a glance at Namjoon before answering, "I just thought I’d stand with Namjoon and the others." The words sound weak even to your own ears.

Jimin’s frown deepens. "Why? You're my wife. You're supposed to be here, with me." His words land heavily in the room, unchallenged yet piercing. Rose stiffens before she abruptly turns on her heel and rushes out. The sound of her hurried steps echoes down the hallway. Jimin’s mother exhales softly, her gaze darting between her son and the door Rose just exited through. For a moment, she seems to contemplate following her, but then she looks at Jimin, at the desperation in his eyes as he holds onto you and stays.

Namjoon, sensing the growing tension in the room speaks up shifting the focus on him. "Jimin, we’re keeping you here for three more days before discharging you. After that, Y/N will take care of you at home." His words are measured, calm as if carefully weaving a delicate bridge between reality and the illusion Jimin still holds onto. Then he subtly nods at you, a silent prompt for you to begin adjusting Jimin to the truth of your present.

Jimin’s grip on your hand is unrelenting, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a way that should be comforting, but all you can focus on is the fire creeping up your spine, the overwhelming pressure of his expectations.

You gently take Jimin’s hand, placing a small mirror in his hands. As he gazes into it, a look of confusion flickers across his face, then deepens into disbelief as he sees his reflection. The familiar shape of his face remains, but the long, silver hair cascading down his shoulders is a stark reminder of the years that have slipped by. “Since… since when did I dye my hair?” he murmurs, running his fingers through the silken strands, as if trying to grasp the time that has passed.

You can see the wheels turning in his mind, the realization dawning on him. “Five years did pass by, Jimin. Namjoon was right, it’s 2026 now,” you explain, your voice tender. The mirror reflects more than just physical changes; it mirrors the essence of the man he was and the man he has become.  Jimin stirs his gaze to you staring at you intently, his dark eyes searching yours as if trying to latch onto something solid amidst the whirlwind of news. 

"The president now is Yuk Seongu. I completed my residency a year ago," you continue, carefully choosing details that might make the reality easier to digest after the sudden shock.

For the short amount of time you were under Namjoon’s mentorship he highlighted the importance of stating the current president when assessing a patient for amnesia. Back then, and even now, you felt as if that question was misplaced. In midst of an emotional breakdown and coming to terms with years being stolen from you why would anyone care about politics?

Jimin processes your words, his brow furrowing. He hurriedly places the mirror onto the nightstand as if it burned him. "Is that why you weren’t wearing scrubs yesterday?" 

His question catches you off guard, but you recover quickly, nodding. "Yes, I’m currently a fellow under..." You trail off, glancing at Namjoon for help, and he promptly supplies, "Doctor Junseo."

You repeat the name, your gaze returning to Jimin, who seems lost in thought, his lips parted slightly as he tries to absorb everything. Everyone in the room expects him to ask something logical, something about the time gap, about his medical condition or about what happened. But when he finally speaks, his question catches you totally off guard.

"Where’s your ring?" His eyes drop to your bare fingers, the absence of the silver band suddenly feeling like an accusation. "Even when you were busy in your residency, you always wore it. You only ever took it off during surgery."

Silence falls over the room. Your breath catches in your throat, your heart pounding so loudly you wonder if everyone else can hear it. How do you even begin to answer that?

You try to recover from the question, but the words stick to the back of your throat. It had never occurred to you that Jimin would notice the absence of the ring and honestly it had never even occurred to you to put it on.

Jimin proposed to you on your fourth anniversary. At the time, you were only twenty-four, young and ambitious. Initially, you felt hesitant about marriage because your career required many sacrifices, and you worried that you would only hold him back. However, Jimin believed that everything was perfectly aligned, especially since you were doing your residency at his parents' hospital, where he worked in the finance department. 

You remember the excitement and joy you felt at the thought of calling him your fiancé, and eventually husband. Despite the challenges you faced and the uncertainties ahead, you accepted his proposal. You can still picture the moment he lifted you into the air, twirling you with pure happiness as you held his face in your hands. In that instant, time seemed to stop, marking one of your many victories.

The ring had been a family heirloom, passed down through generations of Park men. It was always given to the eldest son to propose to his prospective wife. Jimin hadn’t needed to plead for it; his grandmother had a soft spot for you. She admired your unwavering commitment to two things: your career and Jimin.

When your marriage fell apart and you both reached the heartbreaking conclusion that divorce was your only option, the ring became a painful reminder of everything you had lost. You had wanted to return it and give it back to him, but Jimin refused. His voice was filled with bitterness as he declared that the ring was tainted with misery, and he couldn’t bear to return it to his grandmother after failing her. You understood his anger, you had always understood Jimin. Deep down, however, you wished he could have set aside his pride just once to understand you in return.

Unfortunately, the weight of hatred and hurt was too great to overcome. So, you took the ring and locked it away at your family home, putting as much distance between you and it as possible. 

Standing before Jimin as he awaits an answer, you wonder how to explain all of that in just a few words. After a moment of silence, you explain, "I lost it once during a complicated surgery. I had to change into fresh scrubs after getting soaked with a patient’s blood, and I was rushed into another procedure immediately afterward. By the time the cleaning crew came through, it was misplaced. When we finally found it, I decided to leave it at home as a precaution." 

Jimin studies you carefully for a long moment before finally nodding. Then, in a gesture that feels achingly familiar, he lifts your hand and presses a lingering kiss to your palm. The warmth of his lips sends a wave of comfort through you.. He then asks, "Can we have some time alone?" 

Jimin’s father shifts uncomfortably, his posture rigid afraid that you might slip. Before he can voice any objections, Jimin’s mother intercedes, her voice soft yet firm. "Of course." With that, she gently ushers her husband out the door, with Namjoon trailing behind them. Once alone, Jimin watches you intently for a long moment before reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. "What more did I miss?" he asks.

You hesitate. "What do you mean?" 

"Your hair is longer and darker. You used to wear glasses during residency, but now you don’t. Did you switch to contacts or? Did you finally learn to parallel park?” His voice is light and teasing, but there's genuine curiosity beneath it. 

You exhale, adjusting to the way his touch still feels like second nature. "Mochi passed away four years ago. She lived with us towards the end of her life, and her favorite pastime was knocking glasses off the counter. You had to clean up way more than you liked." 

Jimin chuckles, a sad yet fond sound. "And your career?" 

"I tried neurosurgery, but..." You sigh. 

He smirks knowingly. "You never had the patience for it." 

You swat his arm playfully. "I could have if I had Namjoon’s mind of steel,” you smirk before softening, "I went into cardiothoracic instead." 

Jimin grins. "Good choice. You stole my heart; you better learn on how to take care of it." 

You groan, hiding your face behind your hands, laughter bubbling up despite yourself. With him, it was always easy. Then, Jimin’s faces becomes letting you know that whatever he’s about to say has been bothering him for a while. "Namjoon told me I lost control of the car and hit a pole. He didn’t want to tell me, but Taemin let it slip that I was intoxicated. What happened that night?” 

You feel at loss for words. You don’t know the reasoning yourself and the only person who could cast some light on the situation probably would rather punch you in the face than help you. “I wish I could help you, but I am unsure myself.”

Jimin frowns looking to the side, silently playing with your fingers. Something he started doing absentmindedly whenever he was stressed. He stops for a second, still not looking at you as he speaks. “I was relieved that nobody was hurt but I can’t help but feel confused by my own actions. I know I would never drink and drive. It just doesn’t seem real. It doesn’t seem like me.”

He looks at you, his eyes a mirror to his emotions. He was fighting an internal battle which he kept to himself more so to not overwhelm you, sensing that you were already on the edge. 

Instead of further grilling for information he smiles and quickly changes the topic. "At least get me a TV. I’ll die of boredom." 

You felt like you can breathe again so you chuckle trying to mask the fear that lingered. "I’ll talk to Namjoon." 

A nurse knocks on the door. "Time for some tests." 

The nurse walked to Jimin's side, offering him a reassuring smile as she gently lifted his arm. You positioned yourself on the opposite side, carefully sliding your hands beneath him to provide additional support. Together, you lifted him into the wheelchair, ensuring he was comfortable before she starts wheeling him out.

As they were about to exit, he asks "Will I see you later?" 

You nod. "Of course."

You watch Jimin disappear down the hallway, a strange hollowness settles in your chest. This is going to be harder than you anticipated. Jimin has lost two years of which you know nothing about. As much as you want to help, you feel just as much an outsider to that time as he does. 

You wanted to dwell more on it but, the sharp beep of your pager shatters the silence. Front desk. You don’t waste a second, opting for the stairs over the elevator, your heart pounding from more than just exertion. The hospital is a world of cold, sterile air, and yet, as you rush through it, you feel like you’re suffocating.

At the front desk, a familiar figure stands. Jung Hoseok is dressed in a neatly pressed suit, though his tired eyes and slightly disheveled hair tell a different story. He looks older and worn out, as if the weight of sleepless nights has carved itself into his face. You notice how his hair is shorter than you remember, and how tiredness clings to him like a shadow, no doubt a result of his children’s relentless energy. 

He waves at you, offering a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. "Y/N," he greets, his voice tinged with fatigue as he hands you a set of keys. "How's the situation?" 

"The same," you reply, catching your breath, "We’ll see if he’ll remember more once we get to the apartment and visit some places." 

Hoseok nods, but then his expression turns serious. "Do you plan on telling him about you know?" His voice is quiet and cautious, as if saying the name might shatter something fragile in the air. 

A shiver runs down your spine as you shake your head. "No, there was no right moment. Honestly, I don’t know if there ever will be. It would just reopen old wounds. And right now… isn’t the time." 

Hoseok studies you for a moment before exhaling slowly. "Yeah, I get that. Is there anything I can do?"

You bite your lip, contemplating. "If you have time, could you help me fill in the gaps? I don’t know much about Jimin’s job after the divorce. It’s hard to navigate conversations when I have no idea what changed."

He agrees immediately. "Of course. I’ll drop by again tomorrow or the day after. I just need to check my schedule. I only saw him for a minute or two, the clients are ruthless. They keep pestering me as if I was the well of all information about the stock market."

His words offer some relief, but then he says something that throws you off balance. "I haven’t seen the apartment since Jimin gave me the keys. That was two months after the divorce." 

Your brows knit together in confusion. "I thought he moved in with Rose?"

Hoseok’s expression shifts when he realizes what you’re thinking. "Yes and no, he and Rose only started dating last year. He left the apartment because there was too much sadness there. He said he needed a change, so he rented a place near the company instead. He gave me the keys because Dae and I wanted to expand our family, but… I couldn’t live there. It was too tragic. Therefore, I never used it."

Rose’s words echo in your mind and before you can stop yourself you say it out loud, wanting to be certain. "He was planning on selling it, right?" 

Hoseok nods. "Yeah. He even found a buyer, but… they backed out." 

"Did he say why?" you ask, but he shakes his head. "No. He just said to keep the keys. No new owner, no reason to bring them back to the company." 

"Do you know what happened the night of the accident?" 

"No, no one does. His family doesn’t even know." Before you can explain further, movement catches your attention. 

You turn and freeze. 

Seonghwa.

The young resident stands a few feet away, his expression a mix of shock and disbelief. The papers he was carrying slip from his grasp, fluttering to the floor in a scattered mess. You watch as realization dawns on him as he continues staring at you as though he is seeing a ghost.

Hoseok turns at the commotion, narrowing his gaze as he studies the younger man. There is something familiar in Seonghwa’s features, and you see the moment recognition flickers in Hoseok’s tired eyes. But before he can say anything, you are already moving, kneeling beside Seonghwa to gather the fallen papers with quiet urgency.

Although he stutters, he manages to greet you and Hoseok. Once the papers are collected, he looks at you and attempts to start a conversation, awkwardly asking how you have been. Like Seonghwa, you find yourself at a loss for how to navigate the moment, so you settle for small talk, giving him a polite smile. "I’m well. I hope you are too."

Hoseok, who has been observing quietly, suddenly pieces it together, the young resident from the that night. Recognition flashes in his eyes, but he says nothing, only checking his watch before turning to you. "We’ll talk later, Y/N. I’m already late for work.

You nod, clutching the keys in her hand. "Thanks again."

As he walks away, Seonghwa exhales slowly and shifts on his feet. "Namjoon told me I would be working under someone new," he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. "I just… didn’t think it would be you." 

You blink at him, slightly taken aback. "Namjoon never mentioned this to me." 

Seonghwa nods, as if that makes perfect sense. You take a deep breath, adjusting to the reality of your new professional dynamic. "Well," you say, straightening up, "there are a few patients we need to check on. Let’s get to work." 

Sensing the awkward atmosphere lingering between you, you quickly assign him a task. "Check on each patient and inform me when you're done. I still need to change into my uniform and greet the chief." 

Seonghwa furrows his brows. "Greet the chief? Why?" 

You tilt your head. "It’s common courtesy to greet your boss." 

His lips twitch slightly. "You’ve already seen Namjoon." 

You stare at him, processing his words. "Wait… what?" 

"Namjoon became the chief just a little over a month ago."

Although perplexed at information that Namjoon decided to keep from you, you can’t help but feel a bit proud. “Then I guess we immediately go to work.”

Seonghwa smiles as he begins to scan through the list of patients. He explains their conditions, the procedures that were performed, and the potential checkups. As the two of you walk, you’re reminded of the old times when he used to trail behind you. However, instead of the nervous first-year resident who once cowered under your stern gaze, you now see a confident future cardiothoracic surgeon completing his final year of residency.

After a long day in the operating room, you find yourself transitioning from the upbeat environment of the hospital to the familiar weight of anticipation as you make your way to the car. The drive through the bustling streets of Seoul reflects your mixed emotions. 

As you step into the apartment you once shared with Jimin, the soft glow of the overhead lights illuminates the elegant surroundings. Located in an upscale neighborhood, the entrance welcomes you with its polished wooden floors and high ceilings that make the space feel both expansive and intimate.  

In the air lingers a faint floral scent, suggesting that someone has taken great care to maintain the place. You glance around, noticing the carefully arranged furniture that echoes memories of laughter and shared moments. The black sofa, draped with a soft throw blanket, still stands at its familiar angle, as if waiting for you to sink into it once more. 

You can’t help but smile. The same sofa has once sparked a playful disagreement between you and Jimin, who thought its color was too dark for a room designed to catch the morning sun. The large windows allow ample light to flood the space, creating a striking contrast with the sofa.

Setting down the three suitcases, you stroll through the living space, taking in the memories. It’s as if time has stood still; nothing has changed. A wave of nostalgia washes over you, mingling with an unsettling sense of estrangement, as the apartment feels like a memory frozen in time. What truly catches your eye are the photos of you and Jimin, still proudly hanging on the walls of the living room.

Taking an en route to the photos, you catch the lingering feeling of confusion wash over you slowly then all at once as you come near. The photos are in pristine condition, a contrast to what you last remember seeing them. The vision of Jimin lingers as he yells smashing each frame against floor. Shards of glass spread all over the floor. He stomps over it, further crumpling the photos. You trace the wooden frame, fingers stopping at your carved initials. 

Why did he put them back? The question floats in the air, and suddenly you feel like you’ll choke if continue searching for the answer. Instead, you proceed into the bedroom and the sight that greets you is a comforting one.

The bed is neatly made, and not much has changed. But as you stand there, you feel an overwhelming urge to explore further, to delve into the past. Yet, given the emotional roller coaster of the past two days, you pause feeling that venturing too deep might stir up memories best left undisturbed. Instead, you make your way downstairs to the kitchen hoping to find some semblance of normalcy in a cup of coffee. 

You recall that Jimin always kept basics stocked, and you hope he didn’t throw all out. As you reach for the cabinet above the sink where you used to keep the coffee, your movements feel almost instinctual, as if you haven’t lived in another apartment for two years. To your surprise, nestled beside the bag of coffee is a package of white tea, one of your favorites.

But it’s not just the tea that catches your eye. The cabinet seems to be a curated collection of your favorites. It is stocked up on all the items you once adored, from the German chocolate Riesen—Jimin would always tease you about your peculiar liking for them—to your beloved brand of coffee, and even the soy sauce you preferred for your ramen noodles. It’s as if the cabinet had become a small shrine to your favorite things.

As you stand there, staring at the familiar items placed in the cabinet, you feel a new wave of confusion washes over you.  You’re left wondering why he hadn’t removed them entirely. Was he holding onto these memories, or had he simply pushed them aside to avoid the hurt they might bring? The realization that living in this once-shared space might be too much for him sinks in, leaving you conflicted. Part of you wants to cherish these tokens of your past, while another part grapples with the understanding that he likely sought to create distance from reminders of you, leaving you uncertain about what to do with the unraveling emotions swirling inside.

Pushing the emotions aside, you decide to take a quick shower, hoping the warm water will wash away some of the tension that has built up throughout the day. Afterward, you sit down to make a list of things you need to buy for the apartment in order to transform it into a space in which you and Jimin had been supposedly living for the past five years. 

You jot down groceries, hygiene such as shampoos, razors and all the trivial essentials that make a home feel complete. But then you pause, a wave of realization washing over you. All Jimin’s clothes are at his apartment with Rose. You feel your emotional limit approaching as you wrestle with the idea of having to call her and ask for his things. It feels like too much, especially considering your last encounter. Though Jimin may currently see you as his wife due to his amnesia, you are painfully aware that you are, in reality, his ex-wife. 

You started to feel lost and uncertain about what to do next. It was ironic that as a surgeon, you often must make decisions so quickly that you rarely have time to think them through. Yet now, you were struggling to make even the simplest choice. In a moment of clarity, you decided it might be better to ask Hoseok or Namjoon to handle the situation, letting them do the heavy lifting while you figure out the rest.

You decide that tomorrow is a fresh start, hoping things might feel a little better. As you turn off the lights in the living room, the quiet envelops you, and it dawns on you just how tired you are. Climbing upstairs, you hesitate in front of the doors of the bedroom. It feels too soon to sleep there, so you opt for the guest room instead. 

As you settle onto the unfamiliar sheets, just as you feel yourself drifting off, your phone buzzes. You glance at the screen to see a message from an unfamiliar number. 

Sweet dreams—don't let the bugs eat you and think of me. 

P.S. Namjoon finally gave my phone back. 

You stare at the ceiling for a while, the words piercing through the cozy haze of sleepiness. You know it's Jimin, yet confusion washes over you. Why would Namjoon hand Jimin his phone back? Did he go through it? Did he erase the photos of Jimin and Rose? The thought leaves you feeling unsettled, and frustration bubbles beneath the surface.

 It seems like everything is a tangled web of emotions, and you can't seem to catch a break. With a sigh, you grip your phone and type back, "Sweet dreams too," tacking on a heart emoji before switching off the screen entirely. Resting your head against the pillow, you let the silence absorb your thoughts, hoping for clarity in whatever tomorrow might bring.

[bubmyg]

474/638 posting a picture every day until yoongi is home

[aliceintheworld]

PURE ATTRACTION | JJK | TATTOO ARTIST

Pairing: TattooArtistJungkook X NaiveReader

Summary: "I shouldn’t be watching a man undressing, specially not from the house next door."

Warning: Angst 🥺 conversation about suicide, depression, uncertainty about oneself, Misuk being the best character of all 🫶 Namjoon finally makes an appearance (he appears a little, but then a little more, I promise) Jungkook being an idiot – forgive him, for he doesn't know what he's doing.

A/N: I'm back!! First, I wanted to thank you all for the affection I've been receiving. Thank you so much for the messages and interactions! If you want to send non-anonymous messages, I even prefer it, because I can follow you 🥰 Pure Attraction is a not very elaborate story, I know, but it has become an important part of my life, so I thank you for reading all these chapters, you don't know how much this means. Without further ado, here is the chapter.

P.S.: Later, still today, I will post the next chapter 🤌

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter 10

The journey back home has never felt so long. Minutes pass, yet it feels as if the clock's hands are stuck. I try to take a deep breath, but I can't. My head is filled with memories, occasions when I could have done something different. I was so foolish, so stupid. Filled with regret, I can't even look at myself in the reflection of the window. I remember my father, my mother, and I wonder what they would say if they knew I made a mistake with no way to turn back. My eyes fill with tears, almost instantly, for the fourth time today alone. Mrs. Jeon remains silent, looking through the coffee table of her house.

She sighs and gaze at her own hands before locking eyes with me, as if she understands me in some way. But I don’t know if anyone could comprehend what I’m going through at this moment. I feel... used. As if, even with my consent, Jungkook took advantage of me, of my innocence and of my inexperience. At the same time, I can't place all the blame on him. I made a mistake, I should have been more cautious and I let him inside of my life.

"Are you okay?" Misuk asks, almost in a whisper. I try to shake my head and force a smile, but I can't. She sways her hair and clicks her tongue nervously. "I can't believe Jungkook did this to you, dear. He’s my son, but I don’t agree with any of this."

"He’s not the only one to blame," I deny; I barely recognize my own voice, weak and trembling.

The last time I saw myself this way was when, during a difficult year, I didn't want to visit my father's grave, and my mother opposed it. The anguish is different, but equally overwhelming.

"Can you explain how you two got so… close?" she questions. "I mean, it hasn’t been long since he came to Busan. Did you have many opportunities to talk?"

"A few." I shrug. That doesn’t matter now. I’m angry and don’t want to talk to anyone. I want to lock myself in my room and pretend everything was a terrible nightmare. "Sorry, I don't even know where to begin. I feel awful."

"You can talk to me."

"You’re his mother."

"I am." She smiles, placing a hand on mine, gently caressing my skin. I immediately feel a maternal love and care I haven’t experince in years. My crying intensifies as I realize that the person I need right now isn’t with me—my mother. Even if she were here, she wouldn’t help. She would judge me, make me feel bad about my mistakes, just as she has done in the past, and I don't need this right now. "Y/N, I’m Jungkook’s mother, but I understand what you’re going through. You have no idea."

"What do you mean?" I frown, confused. Her dark eyes fill with tears, just like mine.

"When I was around your age, I fell in love with a man. He was two years older, and so handsome. He seemed like a dream, someone so different from me, yet so similar—almost like he was a part of me." She tells me looking ahead, as if she could see the memories playing out before her. "He is Jungkook’s father. He was my first love."

"What do you mean?" I whisper. "Mr. Jeon isn’t Jungkook’s father?"

"He isn’t." She shakes her head. "That’s why I say I understand you. It was the first time I fell in love with someone. It was also the first time my trust was broken. When he found out I was pregnant, he left. I was alone, working a part-time job I didn’t even like, that paid poorly and had no support. Those were the worst years of my life."

"Misuk, I don’t know what to say," I respond, with a knot in my throat. She had never shared this while we talked about the past. But I understand her, in a way. It must be hard to relive those memories, and even harder to confide them to someone.

"You don’t have to say anything. I, after all this time, have moved on. The fear of being abandoned, however, still hasn’t healed, even with twenty-six years gone by." She smiles again, but I know she’s more hurt than she wants to show. "Dear, I care about you. I love you like a daughter, even. You’ve been with me during these days, and we’ve grown so close. I see parts of myself in you. The way my mother treated me, the absence of my father. It’s all so similar. That’s why I say I understand you."

"It all happened so… suddenly." I comment to myself, looking down. The shame of crying, and the shame of what I did, prevent me from looking her in the eyes. "I know I should have been more careful, but I was so happy... I don't get it."

"Jungkook, being more experienced than you, should have talked to you, asked what your expectations were, and told you what his intentions were. If he didn’t want something serious, a commitment, he should have warned you." She argues, not letting me continue. It’s as if she wants to lift the guilt I’m feeling, and I'm really thankful for that.

"Yes, but I was so naive. I was a fool to think he could like me the same way I like him." I groan, covering my face as more tears come. My chest hurts just remembering him. His kisses, his touches. He was so gentle with me, treating me like no one else ever had. He listened to me, and that was enough for me.

"Did you... did you have sex?" Misuk asks, running her hand along my back in a comforting gesture that soothes my pain, at least a little.

"I-I... Misuk..."

"It’s okay. You can trust me. You can open up and tell me." She smiles, without judgment. I just shake my head embarrassed, exposed, somewhat humiliated.

"We did it last night. It was very sudden." I try to explain, even if I don’t have many words to do it.

"Was it your first time? Is that why Eunji thinks you slept at my house? She said that yesterday, and I didn’t understand."

"Yes, but that night was the first time I slept at his apartament and we hadn’t done... you know."

"You hadn’t had sex, just other things." She concludes with a smile, tucking my hair behind my ear.

My cheeks burn, even when I try not to. It’s very difficult to talk about this kind of subject, even with Misuk, because I never had anyone to talk to when I was a teenager. My view of sex always came from books, whether educational or romantic.

"That’s it." I confirm, shaking my head.

"Are you in love?" Mrs. Jeon asks me when a silence falls between us.

I take a moment, reflecting about the question as if it were the most difficult one of my life. What does it mean to be in love? Is it feeling a flutter in your chest every time you see the person? Is it having a wild rush of energy that courses through your body uncontrollably? Is it standing still and feeling your heart race a thousand miles an hour? Is it missing that person and wanting to hear from them every day? If that’s the case, then yes, I’m in love. The realization of this fact hurts me even more. It makes me feel weaker. How could I be so foolish? How could I think someone would be interested in me when no one else had?

A flood of memories overwhelms me. If I had known I’d feel this pain, I would have never gotten close to Jungkook. I would have shut my window the first time I saw him, and never opened up again.

"It’s okay." She reassures me, hugging me. I hug her back, trying to purge the feeling of rejection that’s almost lodged in my chest.

"He just turned his back on me. He didn’t even see me when I left. It’s as if he got what he wanted and then I wasn’t worth the effort anymore." I vent, hurt, too wounded to stop the words pouring out.

"Jungkook is a fool." She shakes her head, pressing her lips together. "At the same time, he’s stuck in this messed-up relationship. I’ve told him millions of times that they’re not good for each other. I told him that true love doesn’t hurt, doesn’t deceive, but he’s stubborn like no one else."

"Does he really talk to his ex?" I ask, hoping it’s not as I imagine. That maybe they talk, but not as much as I’ve put in my head.

"The last time we talked about this was two days ago. He told me Namjoon called him, and they had a conversation for twenty minutes. He’s very deluded." She shakes her head, angry. Two days ago we were texting. I know we had no commitment and hadn’t established anything, but to me it’s worse to know he didn’t respect this moment. That it didn’t mean anything to him. While I melted over our messages and smiled like a fool for his attention, he was with his ex, doing the same with someone else.

"Did Namjoon really cheat on Jungkook? Why does he still try? Why does he still talk to him?"

"Namjoon was his first boyfriend. They were together for almost five years, and at one point, they practically lived together. When Jungkook was alone in Seoul, working in a tattoo studio, he met Namjoon and fell in love almost at first sight. He was very shy, introverted, with few friends in the new city. I think that helped them form a strong connection." Misuk explains. She seems to know a lot about the situation, as if she followed everything in detail, even from a distance.

"Have you ever met him... I mean, have you met Namjoon?" I ask, hesitant. My heart races for some reason. My hands feel cold with anxiety.

"Yes." She nods, sighing. "He’s a great guy, I can’t deny that. He works at a book publishing company, very intelligent and kind. I think that’s why Jungkook fell for him. At the same time, Namjoon is someone who wants more. He wants to achieve other things, and when the relationship got in the way of his goals, he didn’t think twice before stepping on everything they built together. Jungkook was devastated."

"How long ago was that?"

"About three months." She says; her body suddenly tenses. "That’s when I tried to take my own life."

"Mrs. Jeon... Jungkook told me what happened." I say, not really knowing if it’s right to tell her the truth. But it’s the first time she’s opened up about the subject, and I don’t think it’s fair, especially now that she told me so much about her past, to hide this from her. Her eyes widen, and then she smiles awkwardly.

"He really is an idiot. He must have told you to keep an eye on me." She says, shaking her head as if recalling her son’s actions, however she doesn't seen to hold any resentment towards him, regarding this. "He’s always been very careful. Always very protective. Jungkook has his flaws, but I think I understand why you fell for him. He’s stubborn but takes care of those he loves. I feel guilty for, even unknowingly, adding this weight to his shoulders. I’ve been feeling better now."

"Are you really okay?" I ask, somewhat uncertain.

"I am. I’m taking my medication, going to therapy, and visiting support groups once a week. Sometimes when I feel bad, I seek comfort. I know that ending my life isn’t an option. I don’t want to leave my son alone." She states. I search her eyes for any hint of untruth, anything that tells me she’s not okay, but I find nothing. I’m glad to know that, at least she, is evolving and improving. "But you know what’s making me feel better, Y/N?"

"What?" I ask, eager to know the answer. Whatever it is, I need an urgent dose of what is making her feel better.

"You." She smiles; more tears appear in her eyes, this time from happiness. "You’ve made my days better. I want you to know you can count on me. For everything." She confesses. Her voice deepens as I break down again.

"Thank you so much." I say sincerely. I have a friend. I have someone I can count on, and that brings me such a great relief that it feels like I could die.

"It’s okay. No more crying Y/N." She gets up from the couch, smiling. She raises her arms and wipes her face with her shirt. "Dear, tell me. Did you use protection? Did you take precautions?"

"No." I flush at the confession, feeling like a child who has no idea of the consequences of her actions. "He went out to buy a morning-after pill, but you arrived and..."

"It’s fine. Don’t worry." She holds her hands up, as if all of this doesn’t matter. "You don’t need to explain. I know that in the heat of the moment, you don’t think about anything. That’s why I had Jungkook when I was twenty." She laughs, making me feel even more embarrassed. "I’ll buy you a pill. Don’t worry; everything will be fine."

"Mrs. Jeon, you don’t have to. I'm going to do it."

"I don’t want to be a grandma so young, Y/N." She jokes, making me laugh too. "And it’s not a problem at all. I want to see you well, and that’s what matters."

"Thank you." I express my gratitude. Not just for the pill, but for everything. Even though it hurts, being here with her alleviates, at least a little, the torment I’m feeling.

"You don’t need to thank me. Everything will be okay." She assures me, and I accept it. I pray to God that all of this I’m feeling will soon come to an end.

"Y/N, what are you doing here?" I hear a voice behind me. I don’t look right away, afraid to fall.

Since the library shelves are very high, I usually use a mobile ladder to organize the books, so before I make sure who it is, I carefully step down the rungs. When I finally reach the ground, I regret coming down. It’s Hayun, Jungkook’s friend. Not because of her, of course, as I enjoyed meeting her, but because of him, who has kept me awake for the past three days.

"Are you okay? It’s been a while since we last saw each other." She smiles. She approaches and kisses my cheek suddenly. She seems to genuinely like me, and I’m grateful for that. Her outgoing personality couldn’t be better right now. My energy, ever since that argument happened, has been dwindling.

"I’m okay." I say, putting on my best smile. "And you? How have you been?"

"Busier every day. With the move and everything."

"You’re moving?" I ask, curious.

"Yes, didn’t Jungkook tell you?" She asks, and just the mention of his name makes my chest ache. The crying and tears have passed, but I’m far from normal with everything that happened. He hasn’t sent me any messages, and I can’t stop thinking that somehow, I was just a conquest for him. A night of sex that is already forgotten.

"No, he didn’t tell me. We haven’t... talked."

"Seriously? He’s been talking a lot about you." I raise an eyebrow, startled.

"What do you mean? What has he said?" The words fly out of my mouth before I can control myself. Hayun laughs, as if she notices my sudden interest.

"He says random things. That you like to read, or that you’re in college and you cook well. Random stuff like that." She comments, approaching one of the shelves to take a look at a book. "Anyway, I’m moving soon. Me and the guys, we’re all going to Seoul."

"With Jungkook?" I bite my lower lip, intrigued.

"Yeah, I’m from Seoul and wanted to go anyway, but we’ve been talking about everyone moving there for years. We were just waiting for Bora and Taehyung to finish college." She closes the book and puts it back, shrugging. I nod in agreement. Good for them. It feels like I’ll be the only one stuck here, stagnant for the rest of my life. I feel bad. I should make a list of topics I can’t discuss without feeling like a fraud. Damn it.

"That’s great... Hayun, I have to go now. I’m working. But it was nice to see you again." I say sincerely. It’s like seeing her again makes me a little closer to Jungkook. I don’t want to think about him, yet simultaneously, I can’t get enough of him. I’m going to go crazy.

"It was nice to see you too, really." She says, smiling. "I don’t want to bother you or anything, but before you go... I wanted to ask, are you going to the party tonight?"

"What party?" I frown, confused.

"The celebration. The studio opened, and we’re having a party at Yoongi’s house. It’ll be the last one before we move to Seoul. What do you think?" She grabs my arm, full of excitement. I shake my head immediately, flustered. Jungkook probably hasn’t told his friends what happened between us, and I don’t know if I should be sad or happy about that.

"I can’t, really." I respond, trying my best expression.

"Come on! Let’s go, Y/N, it’ll be fun. It’s for Jungkook. It’s important to him."

"It’s precisely because of him I’m not going." I whisper to her, softly. Hayun stops smiling and glares at me intently.

"Did something happen? You can tell me. Did the idiot do something to you?"

"He didn’t do anything." I half-lie, half-try to hide. Him sleeping with me while still talking to his ex isn’t exactly a huge thing. We hadn’t established anything serious yet. Though, in my head, he is wrong in any case.

"If he didn’t do anything, you should go. He’s really happy about the studio. He worked for about four years to save the money he needed."

"Hayun..." I sigh, embarrassed. "Actually, something did happen. I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to go. It’s to avoid ruining his night that I’m saying no." I finish, somewhat nervously. My body trembles with sadness and bitterness.

"Hey, you can count on me. I won’t tell the idiot anything you say. I’m a jerk, but not a bad friend." She rolls her eyes, clapping her hands together. I chuckle helplessly. She’s funny. I had forgotten this little detail.

"Alright, but I’ll be brief. I really need to get to work." I say. Hayun nods silently in agreement. "Jungkook and I did have a thing."

"I knew it!" She exclaims, in the middle of the hallway. Since it’s a library, her loud voice echoes throughout the place, drawing the attention of the few customers to us. I laugh in despair, covering my mouth with my hand. "Sorry, I spoke too loud. But I knew it! the way he talks about you... he likes you."

"I don’t think he likes me that much." I whisper, losing my smile. "He doesn’t want commitment, and that’s why we drifted apart. He still seems to care a lot about his ex."

"Namjoon." Hayun grunts his name without enthusiasm, rolling her eyes. Her once cheerful face, suddenly tightens. "I know. I liked him until I found out what he did to Jungkook. No one has spoken to him since."

"Yeah. Well. That’s why I think it’s better not to go. I want this to be a good moment for him, anyway. I don’t want to cause any discomfort." I vent, gathering my hands that get sweaty, every time I think about this topic. I have to swallow hard to avoid more tears and appearing like a fool in front of his friend.

"I still think you should go. You won’t ruin anyone’s night; I’m sure of that. And it's Yoongi’s house, it’s not like you can’t go." The brunette argues.

"Even so, the party is for him."

"Y/N, Jungkook won’t be in Busan for long. Don’t you think it’s better for you to talk, whether to end whatever it is you have, so you can both move on without resentment?" She suggests, making me think.

I shake my head for the tenth time in this conversation. I don’t know if it would be a good idea. It’s the first time I’ve ever had feelings for someone, and I don’t know if to end what I feel, I should talk to him. My romantic experiences are based on books, and in books, the heroines are never rejected. Just imagining even for a second, if I go to this party Jungkook will show discomfort or indifference, makes me panic. A strong shiver runs through my whole body with the thought.

"I don’t know if it’s a good idea." I reply, shrugging. Hayun sighs, tapping her boot on the wooden floor.

"Okay. Let’s do this: you’ll go. Stay for five minutes. If you see it’s better not to force things and forget all of this, I’ll take you home myself." She says, putting her hands together as if in prayer.

"You’re quite persistent, huh." I murmur, laughing. I roll my eyes, reflecting. Should I talk to him? Should I give myself a chance to hear him out and maybe understand his side? Even if we don’t end up together, and I end up sad, wouldn’t it be better to finish whatever it is we had, so I can move on?

For the past three days, all I could think about was him. There hasn’t been a single hour where I could relax, read, or watch something like I always did. I sigh, groaning. Then I nod my head, still unsure. My mother is still out of town, and that gives me a little more freedom than usual. Hayun lets out a high-pitched scream and bounces around, hugging me. It’s as if with my decision alone, I’ve made her day happier.

"You’re going to love it! Yoongi’s parties are always so much fun." She assures me with a confidence I don’t have. I went to a party once, and I remember hating everything. Both the music and the people.

"I hope so." I laugh, not very sure about what I’m doing. I want to give up on this idea because it makes no sense, and at the same time, I want to show that I’m brave. That I can face my fears. I don’t want to run away of everything forever.

I can do this!

I can’t do this. I can’t do this!

I look at my outfit and feel like going back outside, running after the taxi I took to get here. My long dress, made of thick fabric, has nothing to do with what these people wear. It’s as if I live on another planet, literally. The music is upbeat, playing from two speakers in the middle of the room. It’s good, considering the bizarre things I’ve heard out there. The lights are all purple, giving the place a sensual and enigmatic look. There are many people, and none of them I know. On one hand, I thank God for not running into Jungkook. On the other, I wish he’d appear before me out of nowhere, just so I could put an end to all of this, once and for all.

But what would I say? You’re a bastard, Jungkook. You didn’t promise me anything, but actions speak louder than words. Your actions didn’t show me you still loved your ex. I could say all of that, but how would it help me? Being honest with myself, I came because I felt afraid that, that morning, three days ago, would be the last time I would see him. The last time I could look into his eyes and feel his presence. I am truly in love, and I don’t want to hold onto another regret in my life.

I look side to side, trying to find Hayun, but in the middle of so many people, it’s hard to recognize anyone. I walk through the room, bumping into a few women. They don’t mind, though. I don’t know the environment very well, but the further I get from the crowd, the more I can enter the open backyard, which has a huge pool. Hayun sent me the address an hour ago; maybe if I called her, I could find her more easily. When I take my phone out of my small bag, determined to complete the call, I spot a red-haired figure that catches my attention. Yoongi. It must be him. I walk slowly towards his group of friends, feeling apprehensive, afraid of accidentally colliding into Jungkook.

"Y/N! Over here!" I confirm my suspicions when Hayun waves her arms in the air, as she recognizes me despite the low light. I smile faintly, walking closer to everyone. They all seem unbelievably beautiful, well-dressed, with an air of excitement that I don’t possess. "You made it! I thought you got lost."

"I took a taxi. It’s just far from where I live." I apologize, shrugging.

"Don’t worry. I haven’t had anything to drink. If you need anything, I’ll take you home, okay?" She smiles, placing her sunglasses on the top of her head. Hayun looks prettier when she does that. "Guys, look who’s here. Y/N!"

I shake my head, greeting them. They seem happy to see me, which relieves 50% of my worries. My stiff and tense shoulders, from imagining scenarios where none of them wanted to see me. I’m relieved to realize that this isn’t happening in reality.

"Y/N, how are you?" Bora kisses my cheek, just like the other girls. Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung nod, sipping something from their cups.

"I’m good." I smile, feeling awkward. I look around for Jungkook, but he’s nowhere in sight. At least not as far as I can see. "It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other."

"Right? What have you been up to, Y/N?" Yoori, Taehyung’s girlfriend, asks. I open my mouth to respond, but I don’t have much to say.

"I’ve been working a lot." I say, honestly. Partly because it’s true, and partly because I don’t know how far I can tell. Do Yoongi, Jimin or Taehyung know that I was with Jungkook? I’m so paranoid about this I can hardly look them in their eyes.

"She works at the Dongseo University bookstore. When I went to pick up some books, I found her there." Hayun circles her arm around my shoulder, smiling. I nod in agreement. "Y/N, Jungkook is around here; he went to get something to drink." She whispers the last part in my ear, trying to keep everyone else from hearing, and with all this noise, it’s not too hard.

My breath catches when I think I might run into him at any moment. My heart beats like it’s going to burst out of my chest, and my legs feel like jelly from so much nervousness. When I think of a mantra to calm me down and finally face things like a normal person, head held high, I see him coming toward his friends, not really seeing them. It’s as if he’s so lost in thought that he can’t see anyone a foot in front of him. Hayun beside me suddenly gasps. She mutters something near me, and I only feel her tense body, because she is pressed against mine. Everyone looks at Jungkook with expressions of discomfort that I can't quite understand.

"Y/N, I’m sorry. I didn’t... I didn’t know." She says, shaking her head. I frown, confused. What’s happening?

"What’s wrong? Is everything okay?" I ask, anxious, feeling all kinds of emotions at once.

"That guy next to Jungkook." She says, discreetly pointing to a very handsome man, just a few inches taller than him. "That guy is..."

"Namjoon? What’s he doing here?" Jimin questions, crossing his arms over his chest, interrupting his friend. My eyes widen as they approach. My whole body pulls back, and I want to disappear. To be swallowed by the earth and never inhabit this world again. But it’s too late. Jungkook is already here. And his dark, big eyes grow wider when they see me.

"Y/N?" He asks, confused.

Fuck.

"J-Jungkook. Hi." I nod my head. The fear of making any move and embarrassing myself in front of everyone, is overwhelming. The fear that he might just ignore me and pretend I don’t exist, is even greater. I swallow hard, frozen in place. I can’t even greet him properly.

Jungkook doesn’t move either. He stares at me in a static way, and everyone in the group seems to notice. Even Namjoon, his ex-boyfriend. He’s handsome. With his black hair, lean strong body, and a masculine perfume that exudes confidence. My insecurities about myself intensifies. If I had known he would be here, I would have never come. I was a fool to think this would be a good closure. Jungkook hasn’t wanted to talk to me for the past three days. Why would he want to talk to me now? The urge to cry returns, and I’m tired of this situation.

"I didn’t know you’d come, Namjoon." Hayun says beside me, still with her arms around my shoulders. I lower my head, embarrassed.

"I decided at the last minute. I had to come to support Jungkook." He smiles, and he’s even more attractive when he does, forming charming dimples on his cheeks.

"Wonderful." Yoongi grins, but I have the feeling it’s not very sincere. His dark eyes show feelings far from happiness. "I hope you came to stay for a short time. I don’t want certain people in my house."

"Yoongi!" Jungkook scolds his friend, and my throat tightens. Is he defending his ex-boyfriend? Doesn’t he realize the gravity of what Namjoon did? He cheated on him!

"Don’t worry." He places a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder and squeezes it with an intimacy that makes me extremely uncomfortable. "I came just to see you; I won’t stay long, anyway."

"He was kidding." Jungkook clarifies to him, his voice somewhat hoarse. Then he lowers his head and looks at me again. His eyes are so intense that I have to take a deep breath, struggling to breathe normally. "Actually, I need to talk to Y/N."

"What?" I ask, surprised. My body tenses up again, stiff. Hayun lets out a small smile that everyone notices, and shakes her hair, almost as if the whole situation were a movie, and she’s the spectator.

"I told you it would be a good idea for you to come." She says, and her voice is so loud that it’s as if she wants everyone to hear, especially Namjoon, who bites his lips and watches me. His gaze is enigmatic. I can’t tell if he feels anger or discomfort. Or neither.

"Hayun, please..." I whisper. "And Jungkook, I was actually leaving."

"You weren’t." Hayun argues, furrowing her brow. "You just got here, and you’re staying. You’re welcome here."

"I don’t know..."

"Please, Y/N, I wanted to talk to you. Stay a little longer." Jungkook whispers, biting his rosy lips. His face looks sad, but I can’t believe it’s because of me. If he liked me, even a little, he wouldn’t be standing next to his ex with almost an intimate proximity. I can’t understand him. Not at all.

"Okay." I agree, uncomfortable with everyone watching us, as if we’re animals in a zoo. I don’t want to imagine what they’re thinking.

"Namjoon, I’ll talk to Y/N. I’ll be back soon." He smiles faintly, looking at the dark-haired man. Namjoon just nods and gaze at me one more time.

"Okay. No problem. I’ll stay here with your friends." He says, and I catch a glimpse of Jimin sighing as he takes a large gulp of his drink.

We move away from the group in silence. His hand approaches the end of my back, but he doesn’t touch me. My brain feels like it’s going to fry. There’s so much I want to say, and at the same time, so much that isn’t worth saying. I feel so bad. The way he said he would return to his ex is one of those reasons. Why does he stay in this relationship? Doesn’t he realize he would be happier if he just distanced himself from Namjoon? But that’s my opinion, and he clearly doesn’t think that way. We approach a tree, further away from the party, in the backyard. I lean my back against it, fearing I won’t have strength in my legs. I can’t even look him in the eyes. I don’t have the courage for that. We stand in silence for a few seconds, but it feels like an eternity.

"Are you okay?" He asks me quietly. If he weren’t so close and we weren’t so far from the music, I wouldn’t be able to hear him.

"I am." I respond, trying to form a smile that isn’t real. "And you?"

"Yeah." He smiles too; he tosses his hair back, closes his eyes and sighs, watching me. "You look very beautiful."

"Thank you." I say, feeling awkward. I don’t feel beautiful; I feel terrible.

"Y/N, I don’t know what to say." He says, placing his hand on the trunk of the tree, behind me. His scent invades my nose whether I like it or not. I have to use all my self-control not to respond to any of his movements. "I haven’t been well since that morning. I don’t feel good."

"You don’t feel good." I repeat his words, finding it amusing. He doesn’t feel good? Seriously?

"You may not believe it, but I had to hold myself back from calling you."

"You could have called." I shrug, speaking. My voice sounds ironic, but I can’t be any different. I’m angry. So angry and sad. It’s as if all the bad feelings are inside my chest right now.

"I could, but I shouldn’t. I wanted to take some time to think, and you needed that too." He argues, furrowing his brow. "I want you to know that Namjoon is here, but I didn’t know he would come. It was a surprise to me too."

"You must have been thrilled." I respond with a not-so-happy smile. Jungkook runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek, and tightens his jaw, irritated.

"I wasn’t thrilled. I’m not happy, if that’s what you're saying."

"Jungkook... I get it. You want to be with him. I may be inexperienced, but I can read the situation. You don’t need to explain yourself to me. There’s nothing to explain. I just came because I wanted to say I’m happy for you. To congratulate you. Just that."

"You didn’t come just for that." He says in denial. "I can see it in your eyes."

"You know me so well, don’t you?" I respond ironically, trying to hide the extent to which I’m affected. I want to leave. I shouldn’t have come to this party. I shouldn’t be here with him.

"Y/N, please..."

"Jungkook, what are you doing here with me?" I lose my patience, finally reaching my limit. I push away from the tree, my stomach churning. "Why aren’t you with him? With Namjoon? I’m not important to you, so why are you pretending like I am?!"

"I already told you to stop acting like you know me better than I know myself." He grunts, his face reddening with anger.

"It doesn’t matter what you say. I’ve already told you: actions speak louder than words, and you’ve proven that to me since that morning. You didn’t call me for three days simply because you didn’t want to!"

"Y/N..."

"You don’t want to be with me, and that’s fine. You don’t have to be. I already understand where your limits are; just... just don’t pretend to like me if you don’t care about me!" I finish, trembling. My eyes fill with tears, and I feel so vulnerable, anxious. Jungkook has always brought out the best in me, and now I don’t even recognize myself.

"I care about you." He moves closer, furrowing his brows. His dark eyes grow bright. If it weren’t for the lack of light, I could swear he’s about to cry too. He gets even closer and touches my cheek with his hand, gently caressing my skin, sending chills down my spine. I want to pull away from him, but I can’t. "Y/N, I really like you. I didn’t call because I needed some time."

"Stop..." I plead, in a whisper. Both for his words and for his touches. I wrap my hand around his wrist, but I don’t halt him from continuing. I don’t move, half weak, half uncertain, afraid he’ll stop and nervous he’ll keep going.

"I missed you." Jungkook says softly in my ear. His body almost fully pressed against mine. His breath hits my neck; his strong chest touching my breasts. And I don’t know if it’s his heart or mine, racing a thousand miles an hour, so fast and strong.

"Jungkook, stop." I beg, but I can’t pull away myself. He takes his face away from my neck and looks at me once more. His pupils dilate, and they go straight to my mouth. A shiver runs through my entire body as he moistens his lips with his tongue, with a desire so exposed that I can’t mistake it for anything else. And I let him come closer, so damn slowly, as if we’re in slow motion. When I finally close my eyes, surrendered, hypnotized, I hear someone calling him.

"Jungkook?"

Ask for a TAGLIST in the comments

@joonwater @ane102 @ttipa @kookienooki

[misbangtan]

DAMN JUNGKOOK 🔥🔥🔥🔥🥵🥵

[taestykookie]

title: people pairing: brother's best friend! yoongi x reader genre: smut | angst | fluff | brother's best friend! yoongi rating: explicit ; m ; you name it...MDNI!!! warnings: will be stated at the beginning of each chapter! summary: "yoongi, answer me this. are people the ones who change, or is it just you?"

[thatgoddamngingerundercut]

the most in character thing this man has ever said actually

[bts-trans]

230806 RM’s Instagram Story

감사합니다!

Thank you!

Trans cr; Annie @ bts-trans © TAKE OUT WITH FULL CREDITS

[lvsrqu]

Flower Girl

pt1/?

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Summary:

You owned a small florist shop in the local area, you were known for always being bright and bubbly. You handled your flowers with such love and care that it was almost as if you were mothering them. Then, right across the road facing you, moved in a new shop, it took over an old desolate building. It was a tattoo studio, a small one but it seemed to be rather popular. You had barely spoke to the owner but had seen him, but he wasn’t hard to spot.

Warnings:

Angst, Fluff, Enemies to lovers (sort of, the reader isn’t very amused whenever Yoongi speaks), no smut currently but Yoongi is a flirtatious little man.

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This is my first ever publication on Tumblr, so while I’m not new to writing I’m very new to writing on here so please bear with me :) I hope you enjoy!

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You were outside your shop with a couple of flower arrangements in front of you, watering can in hand as you hummed mindlessly to yourself as you watered the arrangements. A small smile was on your face as you looked down at the arrangements after watering them, you were being paid a handsome amount of money to make some flower arrangements and a bouquet for an upcoming wedding. The colour theme was white and pink, and you knew just the flowers for that. Placing the water can down and gently picking the arrangements up you were about you go back into your shop before a voice spoke, it was Yoongi. He worked in the studio right across the road facing your shop, and it definitely clashed. His studio was dark, almost vampire esque; while your shop was rather bright, practically the complete opposite.

“Who are these for?” Yoongi asked, leaning against your shop wall on his shoulder as he took a drag of his cigarette. The smell almost nauseating as you turned your flowers away from him, as if to protect them from the smoke. “Mr and soon to be Mrs Jones,” You replied while looking at him. “They wanted a white and pink theme so I’m in charge.” You hummed. Yoongi nodded, finishing his cigarette and putting it out on the ground, the smoke leaving his lips and you could have sworn he had done it purposely in your face. Coughing slightly and swatting the smoke away from your face before speaking up. “Why can’t you smoke in front of your own shop?” You questioned as your hand went onto the door handle. He shrugged and leant off the wall, standing straight as he looked at you with such a smug grin you could have smacked him. “Well now because I wouldn’t get to see my favourite flower girl if I smoked somewhere else.” You rolled your eyes in response, opening the door and walking inside your shop, Yoongi quickly following behind as he looked around and whistled. “Very you isn’t it?” He hummed, looking at a bouquet in the shop window. You placed the arrangements you were working on in some water and turned to face him. “Don’t you have a job to attend too?” You asked, your arms over your chest. Yoongi thought for a moment before looking at you with a smirk. “Why don’t you come in? I can probably fit you in,” He began, taking a few steps over towards you. “And you can pay me, by letting me fit in you.” He purred with a wicked grin on his face. You scoffed and went behind your register, sitting down and looking at him. “I’m not into tattoos, and I’m also not into smug little shits like you.” Yoongi laughed, placing a hand over his heart in mock despair as he looked at you. “Ouch, and here I thought we were finally getting along Y/N.” He grinned. You grimaced and rolled your eyes, placing your arms on the counter in front of you and looking up at him before he spoke once again. “Okay, okay. I’ll go back to work, but I’ll definitely be back flower girl.” He hummed, walking towards to the door before looking over his shoulder and smirking at you. “Don’t miss me too much~” He purred, and with that he left. You watched him through the shop window as he made his way back to his studio, rolling your eyes as you mumbled incoherent curses before turning some music on. It definitely wasn’t going to be the end of Yoongi, it was barely the start.

[seokiescans]

[SCANS] BTS Original Soundtrack ’BTS World’ - Another Story Photobook (SUGA)

[yoonmoonn]

the jersey | myg

pairing: basketball capitan!yoongi x art student!reader

summary: after your crush confessed his feelings for you, loving him was the easiest thing to do. but what happens when you realise that he doesn't want to be seen with you ?

genre: college au, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: language

taglist: open (drop an ask or a DM if you wanna be added !!)

★ chapters ★

⋆ lover boy │coming soon...

★ drabbles ★

⋆ coming soon...

please don't claim or copy any of my work !!

[joonmon]

Day 15 pt. 2✨

yoonjin are here to gag you🤪

[teenietinytangerine]

THE TRUTH UNTOLD part 1. "lust at first sight." chapter 2.

prev > chapter 1 content disclaimer: smut, fingers play, f receiving, bath setting, overstimulation. pairing: gumiho!yoongi x oc (saein, a slayer from btvs universe) author's note: finallyyyyyy, this is so out of context for you guys, though i promise there's more history between them than meets the eye. I hope you like it, and if you do, don't hesitate to tell me, my asks are open!!

He opened the door and, when he turned back, half expecting to see her gone, the Slayer was removing her leather coat and setting it on the coach as she walked towards him, throwing him a what are we waiting for look and passed in front of him inside.

He had led them into the bathroom, but it wasn't any bathroom. The sun in its dying hours was coating through the large windows a washroom made of wood and dark stones, with the bath as its center piece surrounded by plants and multicolored vials that she had no desire to figure out what was inside. She also spot a pile of silky clothes neatly folded by the sink. The fox truly made this house his, uh. She would almost feel bad about making him leave if she hadn't know the real owner, and the few horrors enacted to terrorize poor onlookers so he could keep it out of sight.

Out of nowhere, water began flowing into the bath and steam spiraled up in the air. Saein shot him a look. "That's your ritual?"

"Don't you clean your food?" His tone was irritably too innocent about it. With another flick of the wrist, the wooden curtains gently fell and the candles lit to compensate for the loss of the light. "So you want me to take a bath?" His hands gripped her hips from behind and his index teased under her tee-shirt, leaving goose bumps on her flesh. He leaned. "You spend your nights chasing cadavres in cemeteries, can you blame me?" "Alright now,  that's part of the whole schtick, it doesn't mean I'm not familiar with soap and-" Her protestation was blown out like a candle flame as he placed a chaste kiss below her ear, and profited from her confusion to remove the piece of coton out of her, leaving her bra as the sole protector of her bust.

She tried to turn around, avid to dive in the dance but he held her in place. "Don't. Let me." His voice had changed, deeper, authoritative, as if the mask of the Man was fissuring, and something else was echoing.

His digits were tracing thoughtless patterns on her neck, her shoulders, her back, while she was biting her lip down, fighting every instinct to stay put, to let him play with her, ravaging her with the most innocuous motions while every fiber of her being were screaming for permission to pin him on the floor. A silent sigh when he suddenly undid her denim button and the baggy jeans dropped to her ankles. She felt him so close behind her but he was careful to never let his body brush her more than a few seconds, here and there, only in the most benign parts of her, while he was removing every single pieces of clothing on her, always gently pushing her away when she was trying to speed up the process, and leading her inside the bath at the same time.

By the time she sank in, Saein was losing the threads of her thoughts in the sensitive mess he had made of her skin, and the heated water over her millions of pins and needles felt like an healing balm. So distracted by the relief, she only heard him shuffle something in her back and before she could glance back at him, he had removed his drapery robe and freed his arms but nothing more.

In her bubbles, she was starkly naked while he stood dry and fully dressed, sitting himself down by the edge of the bath as a smile was floating on his lips, absorbed in his admiration. Still, some part of him was waiting for her to stand up, throw a punch at him and leave, but there she was, the mighty Slayer, her eyes coated with a hazy nitescence and her jet hair swaying in the wake of the waves. Beautiful.

"How you feeling?"

"Hm, warm." She pulled on his shirt. "Come." With care, he removed her fingers to interlace theirs and, with an embrace, brought her easily closer to him, keeping her back against the edge of the bath and therefore removing himself from her vision and yet invading her space, his mouth straying right by her ear. "No, thank you. I like the view from here better."

Out of thin air, Yoongi pulled a sponge already foaming and began bathing her, washing properly her arms, her feet, her thighs, brushing innocently over her chest, hovering prudishly between her legs... When she strayed too far ahead in the water, the gumiho had to bend over to bring her back with a firm pull.

"Hajima", he murmured to her ear and the sensation of his breath sent a pulse in her belly. "Stop teasing me, then." She could hear him hold back a chuckle. "Already?" He was worse than a cat with a mouse, the anticipation was killing her. "Alright, then." And he took a nibble at her earlobe while his hand abandoned the sponge to travel with purpose on her breasts. He readjusted himself to be able to see the way his palm cupped under her flesh, how her nipples reacted to his touch and how her breathing grew deeper. His thumb was exploring her sensitivities, circling with precision and mirroring on the other, wondering how they would feel between his teeth... Focus.

Every tremor of hers was improving his aim and soon she came to regret the time he only teased for now he seemed to only care about finding the most sensible inches of her. Through his fingertips, the nine-tailed fox could sense the wave of pleasure rising in her, a slow churning he was spurring, only when it reached the tide he craved for that one of his hand slip along her skin all the way down to the warmth of her intimacy and let the surge build.  

She held back a gasp as he began exploring, gently wondering around at the rhythm of her twitches, stroking her piano keys and figuring out her harmony. It's only when she dropped her head back on his shoulder with a contained groan that he noticed something was off and froze.

"Are you holding back your voice?"

"Uh? aniyo,"

He scoffed, she was not even trying to lie properly. "You are, and you're trying to come fast!" The Gumiho couldn't tell if he was outraged or amused. "I thought you wanted to feed me, what kind of lukewarm meal is that?" Ceasing coldly all his movements, leaving her oh so lonely, "Don't-" She stopped herself. Since his assaults had taken hold of her, this was her first chance to properly breathe among the steam that was now completely enveloping them. "Maybe, I'm just not the loud type" Shameless, the huntress that had made herself a willing prey wouldn't even turn her head to see the disapproving face of a man that was not buying any of that bullshit. "Oh, really?" Thank goodness she could not the glint that had lit up in his pupils. Without warning, his fingers took back hold of what they had abandoned and, neglecting the gentleness they had showed previously, ferociously threw her back into such a tidal wave that he nearly defeated her right here and there and a moan escaped her lips and fell with the taste of candy into his ear. "Sorry, what was that?" That lil bastard ..

But he doesn't gloat further, he knows he opened the gates he meant to open and Saein showed no signs, despite her annoyance, to close them again, getting louder and louder as his fingers slipped deeper and deeper, with an expert cadence and making her forget why she ever felt embarrassed, or even where she was.

Her toes curled, the tsunami announcing in her now reflected in her unrest body making their own real waves. She reached for the bathtub for support but instead found the back of his hair. Getting the silent message, with a kiss in the nook of her neck, he kept her pinned against the tub with one hand on her stomach while the other was bringing her closer and closer to the edge, but knowing when to slow down to only push her further, scaring her with the height and the desperation for it she was reaching. The faster her heart beat, the higher the wave was building in her, the more energy was pulsing from her to him, clouding his judgment and restraint. The kiss on her neck turned into frenzied licks, his tongue tasting the salt of her skin. Feeding through the touch of his fingers felt like slurping a fine wine, but it was through his mouth the Gumiho truly felt the whole meal, and the hunger being satisfied.

Another va-et-viens and -

"I'm there, I'm there!"

Her toes curled, every fiber of her being tensed as the pleasure flooded in and out of her. He barely slowed down for a minute, letting them both ride it, until he felt her hand try to push his away, but he held on. "Not yet. More." He groaned, that bass in his voice more guttural than ever. His movements picked up and the Slayer that wasn't even properly done riding her first orgasm, nearly squeaked as the second came on the horizon. Softly, this time, he coddled her "You can go further," but his velvety tones did not align with the manner in which he was ravaging her clit with his thumb while the index and major were arching in her without mercy. She kicked the water and cursed his name in unspeakable languages. Yet, it took no time at all for another tsunami that made the first one pale in comparison took her in an interminable spiral, as he was guiding her through it, driving her through the surges until, little by little, they became ripples.

Then only, he withdrew, as well as his grip on her and let her slip down further in the water... Only to immediately catch her again when he noticed she was slipping down too fast and too low. "Oi careful there."

Her eyes rolled back.

"... damn..."

It was so hot in there, so hot and her heart was pounding so hard in her ribcage it was the only thing she could hear. She was on the brink of passing out

 And yet it felt like heaven. A steamy heaven.  

He laid her back up in the bath, more securely, and after making sure she was holding her own, he let go of her to lean back on the edge, his chin in his palm, watching her come back to earth, fascinated. If he was honest, he also felt a little more light-headed, distracted, (aroused), than he had expected but he put it on the account of not having this kind of full meal in quite a long time. He was just out of practice.

She was watching him too, in a haze. He hadn't let her sneak more than a peek of his face while he was playing with her and now there he was, almost glowing in the steam, a look of pure satisfaction on his fine lines. Her gaze fell on his milky skin, the sharp shape of his eyebrows, the round curve of his nose, and then longed on his lips, his full, enticing, slightly apart lips, ready for reaping. "Pretty."

She didn't realize she had been moving, nor did he understand her intentions until, with barely a touch, with the softest of collision, her lips locked themselves with his. His eyes widened as hers close shut, impervious. A smile of hers broke it. "That was nice"  

Taken aback, the mythical creature blinked.

He would have stayed there, frozen, if she hadn't almost slipped down in the bath again in her attempt to return to her previous position, before he caught back her arm, and his senses.

"Alright, time for a nap." And with a swift movement, he got her out of the bath and into his arms, grabbing a towel he snuggled her into, and led her out to the bed.

EPILOGUE

He sat  her on the mattress, handing her an old tee-shirt, as she mumbled.

"I'm not sleepy."

"Your eyes are still close."

Crunching her nose, she opened, with difficulty, her eyes and slipped into the white tee. As he was about to leave, she said "How about you?"

"What about me?" She reached for the rim of his pants to turn the fox to her.

"Don't you want me to take care of you?" The cocky smile he drew on his face was not quite as confident as he would want it to be, still rattled by earlier.

He gently removed her hand and, holding her shoulders, laid her down forcibly on the bed. "It's your pleasure that feeds me, not mine. So... I need you rested, and comfortable, and happy. Sleep, I'm begging you."

Nobody could deny the exhaustion that had taken over her, not even her when she could scarcely get back up now that she felt the softness of the comforter. Still, she grabbed his shirt before he could back away.

"But it still feels good, right?"

This time, he almost laughed. "I guess it's not too bad."

Now, her smile, that was a cocky smile. She pulled, and he suddenly remembered her strength as he nearly smashed into her if he hadn't caught himself with an elbow, inches away from her face.

"I'll sleep, if you sleep."

"I don't-" But every protestation died in his throat as she was already rolling and pulling his arm around her waist, finally letting herself sink into a pillow and in rest. I guess i could use a nap. Giving up, the Gomiho made himself comfortable and soon slipped into Morpheus arms.